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lune-de-miel-au-paradis · 1 year ago

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Face to face -Maul's pow

Summary: When Maul woke up, he found himself in an interesting situation. The green eyed young woman comes and he has some questions. Is this all a part of his master’s newest plan? Or is it a new obstacle that he must overcome in order to prove himself worthy of his master?

Pairing: Darth Maul x OC Nina Cerasus

Warnings: Mention of wounds, medication, anxiety, mutual pining, idiots in love, angst, violence. (Let me know if I left out something.) Minors DNI! Italics means inner thoughts.

AN: This fic means a lot to me and I worked on it a lot. If you have any advice or comments, please share them with me kindly. I'm posting for the first time in years and I don't want nasty comments to discourage me from posting again. If you don't like it, please go to another blog. I did my best to translate it, so pls forgive me, English is not my first language.

Please enjoy reading!

dividers by Saradika

previous chapter

Maul woke up alone. Fresh dewy night air hit his nose, mixed with the scent of sweet jasmine bushes, and some salty water mixed with mold. When he opened his eyes, he saw the endlessly empty sky, framed by the leaves of a few trees, and soft grassy ground beneath him tickled his toes. As he slowly sat up, he felt the previous spasms slowly loosen in his muscles. He knew that all he needed was a little movement to relieve the feeling of numbness in his muscles as the acid fluid trapped between the muscle fibers was released. He grunted as he stood up, but he felt the familiar weight missing from his utillian belt. He looked around with feverish nervousness, but his fierce warrior hearts found peace.

He found the saber in the soft grass next to him.

The light of the three moons glittered on the cold metal as he picked it up. Such beauty from such a lethal weapon. He still admired it every time he hold it in his hands.

He looked around, someone had definitely been here. He noticed a black material with a neat square shape. It was his upper robe. Someone took it off and put it under his head. His gloves and boots were also lying next to him. This annoyed the male zabrak. According to the signs, someone touched him while he was unconscious.

He put his boots back on and looked around, but he didn't see anyone, he only could sense only the nocturnal animals of the forest and the lake. Suddenly he heard a rhythmic noise. Soft, quiet steps that didn't seem sneaky, but rather quick. He sensed from the rhythm of voices that a humanoid was approaching. So he did what he had to do, he became one with the darkness and walked in the coal of the night shadows using it as a camouflage. Taking advantage of this, he found himself in the halls of the old abandoned villa as an observation. It was a young female. Maul watched the woman silently, like a surveying animal in a situation of danger. To Maul's surprise, the female walked confidently and fearlessly in the moonlight. She was wearing black light material pants and a matching black soft blouse, the moons shined on the silky material. Her movements were graceful and light, she almost glided. It was as if she was like a spirit being stuck here haunting the abandoned ruins. Maul couldn't see her face, but for some reason he wanted to.

He soon learned that the woman had no weapon, her clothes were ordinary, so she was neither a Jedi nor an assassin.

“Would this also be a test from my Master? What should my next step be?”

The woman stood with her back to him, her dark shiny hair braided down on her back, and she opened a bag, she put it on an old ornate but worn table.

She was humming some melody that sounded like something that would be graciously played on a piano.

Then she stopped and began to listen. Presumably she felt that she was being watched. Maul saw her posture stiffen, as she looked around several times and headed straight for the lake, where Maul used to lie. So she came because of him.

Maul continued to watch, feeling rage rising through his veins. Curiosity also mixed in his feelings, he knew that the woman had no chance of winning against him, so he was also a little amused.

"What are you planning, lady? Is it really a test? Should I just kill you? Or did you come to deliver some message?”

The woman did not step out of the ruins, she stopped and looked out in the broken colored stained glass windows and silently noted that Maul's former place was empty. The only evidence of a body lying there was that the grass had fallen under the previous burden of his body. She started back to the table without saying a word, but Maul decided it was time to act and took advantage of the surprise to pounce on her.

He moved quickly, like an apex predator, he didn't have to exert much strength, in fact, it was more stressful to hold back his bloodlust.

He pinned the woman from the table to the nearest half-collapsed wall. The brick edge pressed directly on the female's spine, she tried to hold on to the two edges of the wall with both hands, thereby easing the unpleasant "spine support". From the outer side of the wall, the leaves of tall fern and leander bushes caressed their knees. The rays of light from the different positions of the moons shone directly on this point, so Maul could finally see the female's face in a very good lighting.

She tried to resist him, it was almost amusing to Maul, this feeble little struggle in the hope of freedom. Maul's left hand crossed her, pinning her against the wall with his forearm at the top of her chest by the soft column of her collarbone. With his gloved right hand, he grabbed her chin and turned it towards him, lifting it up.

When their eyes met, her eyes didn't widen with alarm or fear, but instead glinted coldly in the moonlight with some surprise and some annoyance. For a quarter of a second, Maul just watched the face, which he had only seen once and yet was mesmerized by it. The woman was doing the same, scanning his face, so he did it without shame. The freckles on her pale skin made her face look youthful, and Maul wanted to connect the light brown dots with his fingers to see what kind of constellation they formed on that pretty face of hers. Her eyes, however, were even more captivating, the iris shone like a cold jade stone, the edge was a few shades darker, as if it had been edged with pieces of lush green emerald. Now they were glinting at him a little defiantly, so Maul looked down at the mouth, which opened slightly to facilitate breathing, since his grip was strong. Tiny vibrations of fear-laced gasp trembled against his hold.

Between pink lips he saw interestingly placed teeth, between the first two front small pearl-colored bones there was a small but regular gap, when she talked it was definitely noticeable. A flaw that made her more unique and served her beauty well.

Those seductive lips began to move, and in a firm voice, as much as the restraint would allow, she spoke.

"As much as I'm enjoying this staring contest, how about you get off me?" Let's say, now!"

Maul was surprised, he didn't feel fear in her voice, well maybe a little, but he definitely didn't see any signs of panic. He didn't feel an overly intense heartbeat under his arm either. Despite the request, he didn't let go, he just loosened his grip a little.

A tendril of anger worked its way to his nerves.

"Who are you? Who sent you?" he asked.

"So you can talk. For a moment I thought you were just communicating by grunting. No one sent me, I came myself, and I mean no harm to you." she didn't collapsed beneath his weight of heavy stare as others did,

“Is that so?”

He leaned closer to her, he was almost chuckling.

"How cute of her. She thought she would have a chance against him."

Nina could almost smell the scent of smoggy city air and salt on his clothes.

He intended his movement as an intimidation, it seemed to work, the young woman uncomfortably tried to back towards the wall, this only made her clothes more dirty, but her gaze was cold and she defiantly resisted, she did not plan to show fear to him. Maul absentmindedly took her braid, his hand amusedly stroking it in his gloved hand, he bet it felt silk soft. He liked this little game, it's much more enjoyable with such a pretty creature.

"Tell me, little starlight, why should I leave your life? Hhmm?"

He not failed to notice her reaction for the nickname he gave her.

"First of all, because I helped."

"That's not good enough." Maul answered and leaned down to inhale the scent of her neck. Sweet cherries, almonds and a hint of mint hit his nose. Delicious! He noticed the goosebumps running on her skin, for his closeness, for his touch. He definitely felt smug, which annoyed her, he can see the glint of annoyance in her captivating irises.

"They're going to look for me.."

"Insignificant." Maul whispered this into her ear. "Little starlight.. Do you know how many stars disappear in a single second?

“Twenty to sixty thousand." She answered surprisingly quickly.

"Very clever one. So answer me. Why should you live? What makes you special? Are you better than those stars? Or are you meant to fade away by my saber?"

He didn't wait for her to answer, the intense eye contact said it all.

“For me, you are rather negligible, small, average.”

It ignited a spark in her. Leaning forward and smiling mockingly, she spoke:

"Oh, really? If I'm so negligible to you, then what was that little scene between us at the club last week? You felt it too, didn't you? I bet you feel it now. This pull between us."

This seemed to have an effect on him, he moved away from her and stormed at least three paces away. He didn't answer, but let out a small growl at her. Now it was Nina's turn to be smug. She began to dust off the debris from her clothes.

"I see we're facing a situation we can easily help. How about a hearing instead of an interrogation? You have questions for me, and I have questions for you. How about exchanging a little information?”

Maul just started then suddenly said:

"I could beat the answers out of you if you'd prefer. "

"Charming offer. That might make me talk, and I will tell you things, and enough of it'll be the truth to make it difficult to weed out the lies. But you won't hurt me. And I'm not kidding, they're really going to be looking for me, which I don't think would be in your best interest."

“And what makes you believe in that? What is my interest?”

"Oh, please don’t try to offend me. I don't need to be a genius to figure out that you're either hiding or either trying to get low from something. Not many people come here to this old mention, nor has a ship that just turns invisible with a device."

Maul noticed that the woman's dress was actually pine green and not black; he also noticed that the white stones on the top edge of the high neckline sparkled, as did the belt of the pants. He also noticed the milky skin on her stomach exposed by the short top. She was such a pretty thing. It would be extremely easy to end her life now, nevertheless…

“So what do you think? Mysterious guy from the club?”

Maul held out a gloved hand to help her down to the level next to him.

"That you are brave enough to act when you are about to die."

She accepted his hand. If Maul was expecting the feeling of the warmth of the hand, he was to be disappointed, freezing cold fingertips smoothed over his glove.

She was shorter than him even in heels, but she didn't have to raise her head too high to look into his eyes. Finally, she walked back to the table and sat down in one of the gothic style chairs, beckoning Maul to the one across from her, like if she’s the host in this castle. When she noticed Maul is not gonna sit down and just stays in silence, she began.

Mood board made by me, pictures are from Pinterest.

next chapter

Taglist: @stardustbee @hellhound5925 @cloneloverrrrr @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @firstofficerwiggles

Let me know if you want to be added 💖

#star wars #darth maul #oc nina cerasus #nika's writing #darth maul x oc nina cerasus #maul x nina #original character #backstory #my fic writing #naboo #romantic story #star crossed the fic #star crossed lovers #star-crossed #tragic love story #before the phantom menance

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angryschnauzer · 4 years ago

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The Dark Wolf

Summary: The Dark Wolf hadn't picked an Omega yet, it had been three months since the Spring Equinox and still the omegas that had been selected hadn't been successful. With your heat approaching you could only however think of the gentle Alpha that would visit you at work, distracting you from your impending heat... and you selection as the Omega for the Dark Wolf.

Pairing: Adopted Stark Omega Daughter Reader x Alpha Bucky Barnes

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, ABOAlpha/Omega, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Werewolf, Mating Rituals, Ritual Sex, Heat Cycles, rut cycles, Full Moon, Witchcraft, Unprotected Sex, Mating, Breeding, Knotting

I do not run a tag list but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites and put that blog onto notifications to get alerts whenever i post new stories. Oneshots will be posted on Tumblr and AO3, Multichapter stories will be AO3 exclusives. Masterlist is now AO3, link HERE.

The Dark Wolf

It was springtime yet a keen wind swirled at your ankles as you quickly made your way home. It was late in the day and the sun was already dipping below the horizon, the thick forest that surrounded the village making the days shorter with their tall canopy. A group of girls around the same age as you ran past, laughing and joking as they made their way towards the tavern, unaware of you as you carried the heavy basket from the market. The stalls had been packing away by the time you got there, your job at the bakery keeping you busy most of the day.

As the girls passed by, their scent was thick on the air; cloying and sickly as the synthetic heat pheromones they had added to their perfume to make them more attractive to any Alpha’s at the tavern assaulted your senses, making you quietly sneeze. Their voices were high pitched and clawed at your ears as they squealed and laughed;

“Maybe that dress will be enough to convince the Dark Wolf to take you tonight!”

“Ooh do you think? He hasn’t chosen a mate yet this season, do you think he’ll do it soon?”

“It’s coming close to summer, usually he’s chosen by now”

“Who do you think the Dark Wolf is?”

“I don’t know, but the full moon is in two days’ time, and if you want to get chosen, you’ll need to bring your heat on pretty soon”

“I just need a big dumb Alpha that’s about to Rut to trigger my heat!”

“Well keep an eye out for the red paint on your door, you know that’s how the Dark Wolf chooses his Omega”

They all laughed as they went, and you could smell arousal in the air, little did you realise it was your own.

The wind blew their scent away as quickly as it had brought it, and pushing against the gusts you pulled your cardigan tighter around your body. You had always dreamed of an Alpha to take care of you, to help bring his pups into the world, have a whole pack of little ones. Shaking your head you tried to rid yourself of the thoughts that wanted to enter your mind of the Alpha you pined for, knowing if you got distracted it would only make you feel worse.

Finally the tall eaves of your father’s house came into view, giving you a sense of relief as you made your way up the pathway and into the house, closing the old black door behind you.

Your Adopted father was in the kitchen, preparing dinner for the two of you, his arms still covered in soot from where he’d been working all day at his forge, if there was one thing Tony Stark knew how to do, it was fix anything made of metal. Dropping the vegetables he was peeling he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead;

“Hey Sweetie, are you doing ok? Get everything you need?”

“Yeah, thanks Dad” you replied awkwardly.

Tony had raised you alone, doing his best to raise a girl - and now a young woman in her early 20’s - and had done his best to help you with the more feminine side of things. He had never suppressed your urge to learn your mothers art of witchcraft, helping you where he could, and when it came to the time when you had started to feel the Omega Heat, he had encouraged you to deal with it however you had felt right.

Setting the heavy basket of herbs and produce onto the table, you set about resting the fresh herbs into little vases with water to keep them fresh, and opening the package of freshly roasted coffee beans to let them cool enough to store them in jars;

“I’ll make an elixir tomorrow, the bakery had me run ragged today… I’m not feeling great”

“If you’re sure Honey. Why don’t you go take a bath and I’ll have dinner ready in an hour”

“Thanks Dad”

The next morning you woke and felt the first pang of pain in your stomach, telling you that your heat was closer than you thought. You had slept fitfully, dreams marred by a large wolf; the Werewolf that haunted the village and wanted to claim a mate. You’d felt fear but also something else, something you couldn’t place, and in the dream when the wolf had been close enough to touch you had seen a familiarity in his eyes before suddenly you were awake.

Drenched in sweat you knew you needed to get your elixir made unless you wanted to try and cope with a heat without an Alpha to knot you, so you dressed quickly in the previous days clothes and quietly made your way downstairs, moving around the kitchen as you set the large pot of water onto the stove to boil before starting to add the herbs you bought the day before. Stirring the aromatic mixture you suddenly stopped;

“Rosemary!” you muttered quietly to yourself, before stepping out of the front door and crossing the garden barefoot, the dewy grass cool on the soles of your feet. Plucking a handful of sprigs you raised them to your face and inhaled their fresh scent, smiling as it hit your senses as you turned, and that’s when you saw it. The red paint.

“NO!” you screamed, frozen to the spot.

Seconds later your father appeared at the doorway, looking around wildly before seeing you and rushing to your side;

“What? What is it?”

You pointed, your hand shaking and he followed your gaze before sharply inhaling; there it was, a wide and vivid swipe of red paint on your black front door;

“Daddy… please… get a rag. It still looks wet”

“Honey… ok honey…”

His reassurance was interrupted by a quiet cough at your garden gate, causing you both to turn and that’s when you saw him;

“Constable Rogers…”

“Tony… you know its Steve, not Constable”

“Steve… really? The pack chose my Little Girl?”

Steve set a large hand on Tony’s shoulder;

“It’s the choice. She won’t be harmed. But you know it’s the ritual and it's the law” Steve paused, and you could see the conflict on his face as he spoke; “She’s not a little girl anymore Tony, she’s a beautiful woman”

Tony stood partially in front of you, trying to protect you;

“I get that Steve… but it should be her choice. This seems so… so… barbaric…”

“Maybe so, but I’m not here to argue with you… you know my job…”

Tony nodded. He knew the laws. He’d done his best to bend them or influence them as much as possible, but the rules of the Werewolf that lived in the woods called for a mate once a year, his chosen Omega would spend the first full moon after the spring equinox with him, and if she was suitable she would bear his child and become his wife… and yet no-one knew the face of the man who was this wolf, just that it was one that walked among them. And for the last three months the chosen women had been returned to the town at the end of the three nights of full moon. Each said the same of their time away; it was not to be spoken of; they were unsuitable.

The Constable - Steve - held out his hand for you and you paused, still grasping your fathers’ hand before he spoke to you;

“It’s your choice. I will fight it for you if you don’t want to go”

“It’s ok Dad. I haven’t been able to make the suppressant elixir in time, there isn’t any other way to deal with this Heat that is coming”

Tony nodded before he glanced at your feet;

“At least let me get you some shoes. Barefoot in the forest is not as enjoyable as barefoot on a soft lawn”

Standing on the cold stone slab in the clearing you watched as Steve tied the rope around your wrist to the solitary tree that stood in the centre;

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

He froze. It was the first thing you’d said since you’d left your father’s house. He had almost forgotten you had a voice you had been so quiet. He cleared his throat;

“You know it’s the way. And as the village constable have to uphold what it written”

“Is this not… not archaic? To leave me out here to be taken against my will?”

Steve stood straight and looked at you, his hand softly cupping your face;

“It’s not like that. When the Dark Wolf appears, you will know if it’s right. He will know. He will approach you and if your scent pulls you from his Lycanthropy, he’ll know you are the right Omega”

“What if… what if it doesn’t trigger his Rut? What if I’m not the right Omega?”

“Then he will try again tomorrow night”

“And leave me here to suffer my Heat? Alone?”

Steve took a deep breath, looking away and unable to meet your gaze;

“You will not be alone”

He had finished tying the ropes and had tested them to make sure they were secure before stepping away, and with a sigh he turned and quickly made his way out of the clearing and into the dense forest. You had seen him flinch each time you’d screamed out his name, your throat finally becoming hoarse and you let out a pitiful sob as you fell to your knees. Curling up against the side of the old oak tree, you tried to clear your mind, your fingers drawing patterns in the soil, trying to remember some of the old magic you knew. The full moon was setting in the sky above you as morning broke, the sequence of the phases seemingly out of sorts.

Suddenly you felt a pain in your stomach, you knew exactly what it was; your Heat was fast approaching. The sweat started to bead across your chest, your breathing getting heavier, as the first spasm shot through you something suddenly moved in the thick brush at the side of the clearing. Your eyes darted in that direction but saw nothing but ferns and undergrowth. As another wave of Heat pains started to build, movement out of the corner of your eye distracted you from your impending heat. This time whatever it was stood still, yet all you could see was a glowing pair of eyes in the darkness of the surrounding forest.

Forgetting about your Heat and your incantations you were trying to draw in the earth, you instead focused your attention upon the rope that tied you to the tree. When Steve had said you would not be alone, was this what he meant? Your scared fingers worked on the knot in the rope, trying to loosen it.

A quiet growl echoed from the darkness and as the panic set in you felt a rush of power surge through you, grasping the rope that tied you with both hands you pulled it harshly and it snapped at the tree.

You did not wait, you were running, running as fast as your feet could take you. Blindly rushing through the dense forest, you could hear creatures chasing after you, the growls and gnashing of teeth. The surge of energy your heat was giving you powered you on, deeper into the forest, further from home. A shrill howl sent a chill down your spine, but you continued your sprint. The sounds of the creatures behind you were getting closer, ahead the forest floor rose steeply, the sharp incline slowing you as your feet slid on the dry pine needles that had fallen from the tall spruce trees that towered above you.

You slipped, your smooth and simple slippers giving no traction and your fingers dug into the forest floor. You fell to your knees and squeezed your eyes shut, doing what little you could do to prepare yourself for whatever happened next. But… but the growling stopped, the forest fell silent. Opening one eye then both you slowly turned, letting out a cry as you saw the pack of wolves surrounding you, but none were looking to you, their attention fell upon the rocky outcrop above you.

Turning you looked up and gasped, he was there; the Dark Wolf.

With a loud snarl he jumped from the rocky outcrop and over you, landing gracefully at your feet as he growled loudly at the baying pack that surrounded you. Circling around he trod silently, the hairs on his spine standing on end as he bared his teeth at the pack as they kept trying to approach, before standing beside you. He seemingly paused before pointing his snout to the sky and let out a powerful howl.

You watched, dumbfounded as each wolf sat. It was clear that the Dark wolf was in charge; that he was the Alpha of the pack. He turned, his icy blue gaze directed at you before he reached his head down and took the rope in his mouth that was still tied to your wrist. He tugged it gently and you pushed yourself to your feet, the smooth soles of your shoes slipping on the loose pine needles that covered the dirt, and he rested the side of his body against your thigh, steadying you. Resting your hand on the coarse fur to steady yourself as he led you down the slope, you found yourself surprised by how soft his fur was, almost as if it was spun silk.

The pack parted like a tide, letting the Dark Wolf lead you into the darkness of the forest by the rope between its jaws. You could hear the pack following, keeping its distance, yet somehow you weren’t afraid; you felt safe with the Dark Wolf.

Through the dense trees a solitary cabin came into view, its windows black as if abandoned, yet deep red geraniums had been carefully planted around the doorway. The soft forest floor made way for sandstone paving, and you let Dark Wolf lead you to the entrance.

Arriving at the porch he sat beside you and whined like a dog would, looking from you to the door and back again.

“Oh, right… no opposable thumbs in your paws”

If wolves could roll their eyes it would have, and as you reached forwards for the door handle you tested it, the door swinging open on its creaky hinges. Looking to Dark Wolf you smiled;

“Whoever lives here needs to do some maintenance”

The wolf let out a snort before standing, gently leading you by the rope that still hung from your wrist. He paused in the hallway before pushing his behind against the door to close it, leading you into the cabin through dark hallways, finally coming to a single room, surrounded on three sides by floor to ceiling windows that looked out to the forest. Pulling you onto the bed he sat on his haunches before you tumbled onto the soft mattress.

Only then did you realise how tired you were, exhausted from not only the chase through the forest, but also the drama of the morning on top of a poor night’s sleep. As if on cue you felt the cramp in your stomach; remind you that your heat was starting, and without thinking you curled up onto the bed, clutching at your stomach in the foetal position. Screwing your eyes shut you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips, the surge of heat flowing through you. And yet… suddenly you felt a cold nose press against your neck, before a heavy snout rested on you. It calmed you. Curling your fingers into Dark Wolf’s fur, you screwed your eyes shut, the waves of heat tiring you, until you blacked out and a deep sleep took hold.

You could feel your mind pulling you from your deep sleep and you snuggled into the soft pillows a little further. You felt movement against you and your hands sought out the soft fur that was pressed to your chest, curling it between your fingers. There was something calming about the beast that lay beside you, even with your eyes closed you could hear its breathing was steady and strong;

“You’ve helped, you know?”

At the sound of your quiet voice it shifted slightly, and although you hadn’t yet opened your eyes you could sense it was looking at you as you continued;

“For whatever this is, you calmed me. I was so scared, not just of the pack, but of what would happen. I had been waiting… hoping… you see at the bakery there is one man that visits, I had been hoping he would ask to court me, but he always seems so shy…”

The wolf’s breathing caught before you heard a voice;

“I think it’s time you opened your eyes Omega”

No. It couldn’t be… your eyes were squeezed shut but you wanted to look… yet you didn’t… you knew that voice, you’d heard it the day before when the soft and quiet Alpha you’d always pined for had visited the bakery the and had ordered the last of the cinnamon buns you had coveted so much, the ones you always ordered right before your heat arrived, that were your comfort food.

“Omega…”

“James?”

“Open your eyes”

Meekly you did as he asked, and he was there; in front of you. Your fingers were curled around his long dark hair and his face was inches from your own, his pale blue eyes staring straight into your soul. After what seemed like an eternity you finally found your voice;

“You’re the Dark Wolf?”

He nodded;

“For the last few months, yes”

Frowning at his response, you didn’t understand what he meant.

“It is a different member of the pack each year… For the last three months whenever an Omega was brought to the clearing, they weren’t a match…”

“A match? But, surely it’s just the nature of an Alpha and an Omega?”

“Not for Werewolves. The right Omega will pull a werewolf out of its cycle. It’s why I’m here, like this, now…”

You thought over what he’d said, your eyes going wide in the realisation of what it meant; that you were meant to be his;

“Is this why you never said anything? At the bakery? Or when I would see you in the market? You were saving me for this barbaric ritual?”

James’s face dropped, the hope seemingly leaving his body at your words;

“I… I… I would be made to choose. If it’s your ‘year’ as the Dark Wolf, if you choose a mate before you have taken part in the ritual, that mate is rejected… I didn’t want that to happen to you…” he looked up at you through watery eyes; “When Steve told me that another Omega had been selected this month, I hoped so much it would be you…this is my final month, my final chance...”

His words trailed off and you didn’t want to think what would have happened to him if he hadn’t of picked a mate this month. Cupping his cheek with your hand you gently stroked your thumb over his stubbled skin before closing the distance between the two of you and your lips met.

The kiss was soft at first, but as you both became bolder and Bucky’s arms wrapped around your body to pull you flush with his, you found yourself relenting to his charms.

You were mid kiss when you felt the first pang of cramp in your stomach, this time you whimpered loudly, James pulling away and started to strip you of your clothing;

“C’mon Omega… let me help you…”

“James, it hurts… its hurts so much…”

“I know, let me at your skin and I can take the hurt away. And please, call me Bucky… the pack leader calls me James when I’m in trouble…”

You let him move you, quickly unbuttoning your dress before pulling your underwear off, finally untying the rope that was still around your wrist, and he moved back so he could take in your naked beauty… and yet you felt ashamed, embarrassed, trying to cover yourself with your hands until he gently caught your hands in his own large grasp;

“Omega, what is it?”

“I have never…”

“You’ve never been with an Alpha?”

You shook your head, and Bucky leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to yours;

“Oh, my sweet Omega, I am here to help you, we can do as much or as little as you want or need”

He settled you against the soft pillows and rested his head against your chest, listening to your heartbeat as you wound your fingers through his long hair. Finally, he felt your pulse slow and he started to press kisses down your torso until he reached your soaked core. Running his fingers through the copious slick that coated your folds, he hummed his appreciation at the sweet scent that filled his senses, before leaning forwards and pressing a kiss to your swollen clit;

“You smell so good Omega, can feel you trembling, let me taste you, make you cum with my tongue”

“Bucky…” you whined, and you felt more than heard him chuckle as you wanted him to stop talking and start doing… something, anything.

He got the hint and with one long lick he covered your entire pussy, tasting you, groaning at your sweetness. Hooking your legs over his wide shoulders he gripping onto your thighs, burying his head between your legs as his long tongue delved deep within you, fucking you with the strong muscle and you could feel the heat pains ebbing away and being replaced by those of pleasure. His fingers found your clit and he strummed against the sensitive nub, making you scramble for something to grip onto. With your legs shaking and your fingers curled through his soft dark hair you were coming hard, and he relished every drop, drinking your slick as it gushed from your core until you were spent.

When your legs went limp and your hand fell to the sheets he slowly pulled away, pushing himself up to sit as he used the back of his hand to wipe the shining slick from his chin. Reaching the other hand he pressed his warm palm to your stomach tenderly;

“How do you feel now Omega?”

“Good… oh my god, so good…”

“Wait here, I’m going to go get you some water”

You lay there on his soft bed, eyes closed and listening to nothing but your heartbeat until you finally heard him approaching, pushing yourself up to sit only to let out a squeak of surprise;

“You’re naked!”

He stopped in the doorway and looked down as if it was a surprise to him too;

“Yes? So are you?”

“But… you’re naked!”

You couldn’t draw your eyes away from his body, your gaze raking up and down as you tried to take in every chiselled plain and curve. From his wide shoulders and muscled arms, down his torso and stomach where his abdominal muscles tapered down in a deep v to his crotch. The thick thatch of dark hair that surrounded the thick and heavy length that swung between his legs, to the powerful thighs that looked bigger than you could ever have imagined;

“Omega…” he gently laughed; “I literally woke up from being a wolf half an hour ago… I haven’t left your side…”

He closed the distance between you, sitting on the side of the bed before handing you a glass of water and a plate. The scent of the treat the plate contained drew your attention, and you instantly recognised what it was;

“The cinnamon buns from the bakery! I always have these as my heat starts!”

He smiled and as you ate you couldn’t help it, but your eyes continually strayed to his crotch, watching as his thick length would twitch and slightly swell the longer you looked at it. When you had finished eating, he silently took the plate from you before handing you the glass of water which you gratefully took, downing it quickly before handing it back;

“Thank you”

Setting the glass and plate onto the floor Bucky turned back to you;

“How are you feeling now?”

“Sleepy still, hot… yet cold…” you looked away shyly; “It makes me want to curl up but have you here with me…”

“That we can do… scoot over, unless you want me to climb over you…”

Laughing you moved to the centre of the bed watching in the pale light that still came in the large windows that surrounded the bedroom as the sun set having slept through most of the day. Bucky grabbed the oversized quilt as he shuffled in beside you, pulling it over your naked bodies as he curled his arm over your stomach and pulled you flush with his chest. Turning until you were the little spoon to his big.

It felt natural to be there in Bucky’s arms, to have his breath on your neck and his hands on your stomach. You could feel your body getting hotter and whimpered, you knew the heat hadn’t been sated, that you needed more, and your Alpha picked up on the change in your scent immediately. His lips found you bonding mark and he pressed kisses to the skin, soothing your body as he rubbed at the spot with his nose, his lips brushing against your shoulder as he felt you push your ass back against him. His dick was growing harder for every second he held you in his arms, and with you rubbing against him he couldn’t help but to rut against the soft globes of your ass, your voice startling him for a moment;

“Bucky… Alpha... I need you…”

Bucky knew what you needed, and before he had even moved a muscle you were turning, getting to your knees;

“Omega… are you presenting for me?”

Looking over your shoulder you nodded;

“Please Alpha… I need you… need your knot…”

Bucky positioned himself at your soaked core, the feel of your hot slick against his dick almost overwhelming, and as he breached your entrance, he let out a low growl as he sank into your swollen channel. Moving his hips fluidly he coated his heavy girth in your slick, and with each thrust he knew he was in heaven. This was it; he was never going to find an omega better than you; you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his days with;

“Fuck, Omega… you feel so good…”

“Bucky… Please… make me yours”

His hands gripped your hips as he fucked you, stretching you out so beautifully that he feared he would cum far too soon, but as you rocked back with each of his thrusts he regained control. Putting more power into each push, his powerful thighs became coated in your slick as it spilled out of you around his dick, filling the room with your combined scent.

You were crying out his name, begging, pleading for him to let you cum;

“Please Alpha…”

“Omega, you want me to cum? Want me to fill you with my seed, let you grow full with my Pups?”

“Alpha! Please, I want your Pups, want your knot…”

With a final flurry of thrusts he sent you over the edge, your body squeezing him so tight it triggered his own orgasm as he filled your fertile body with his potent seed.

As his orgasm ebbed away, he bent over and wrapped his arms around your torso, pressing kisses to your back as you trembled beneath him. When you finally spoke your voice was hoarse;

“That… that was amazing…”

“That’s nothing Omega…” Bucky muttered, shifting slightly and your eyes went wide when you felt he was still hard inside you.

“Alpha? How…? You haven’t knotted yet?”

He chuckled lightly;

“An Alpha can only grow a knot once he is spent… I got a good two or three more goes before that happens… and trust me; you’ll know it when I do my sweet Omega”

“Oh…” he moved within you, setting off aftershocks of your orgasm; “OH!”

Bucky moved you, somehow twisting and sliding you onto your side before pulling one of your legs up flush with his chest, all with his hard length still snug inside you. Pressing kisses down your calf he started to rock his hips back and forth, the added lubrication of his own cum adding to the sensations.

It was starting to get dark now, and without any light in the room the only illumination was the rising full moon, casting its pale glow over the pair of you as you rutted together like wild animals. As Bucky threw his head back the moonlight caught every muscle, his skin gleaming with beads of sweat that looked like a thousand jewels.

Looking down you watched as this meaty girth split you open and you welcomed him into your fertile womb. With one strong arm gripping your leg, the other hand found your centre, rubbing this thumb against your clit as he teased another orgasm out of you, fucking you through it and chasing his own release. With each new thrust his attention was drawn to your chest and you found yourself being bent in two as he pushed your leg ever higher until he shifted it to the side and was able to take your breasts in his hands as he continued to fuck you;

“These titties, they’ll look so beautiful when full of milk for our pups…” he reached forward and took one peaked nipple between his teeth, sending shockwaves through your body. The pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach again, and as you shut your eyes and let the sensations take over, your imagination gave you a glimpse of the future, of a future with Bucky.

The summer breeze blew warm air against your bare legs, the lace trim of your light summer dress brushing against your skin. Smoothing your hands over your swollen belly, your pup kicked inside you and you smiled. Looking out over the garden you saw your husband, your Alpha, your Bucky playing with your two-year-old twins, smiling as you heard their squeals of laughter as he chased them around the soft grass…

As you came back to reality you felt the sudden rush of pleasure that told you your orgasm was imminent, you were completely surrounded by Bucky and you felt yourself surrendering to the pleasure he was giving you as you came again, this time with a low groan he filled you with another heavy load of his fertile seed.

You held each other for the longest time, Bucky resting his face against your neck and you doing the same to him, rubbing your nose over his scent gland and picking up on the slight change in his scent. Before it was as simple as dew on soft pine, but now there was a warmer tone, cinnamon and coffee. Running your hands through his hair you spoke softly;

“Bucky?”

“Mmmm”

“Bucky, your scent…”

He pushed himself up on his strong arms, looking down at you and that’s when you realised what was happening;

“Omega…” his pupils were blown wide, pools of dark arousal as he took in your naked form beneath him; “You’ve triggered my Rut…”

Your bodies were still joined, and as he ducked his head down to kiss you, you could feel him still hard within your aching body, a body that was desperate for more, for his knot. Clouds moved across the night sky and momentarily blocked out the moonlight, and that’s when you saw it; movement outside the windows. With a gasp you pulled away from Bucky, your eyes wide as you searched the shadows, trembling as you saw eyes, glinting in what little light there was.

Bucky pressed his lips to your bonding mark, surrounding you, protecting you;

“It’s the pack… they’re here to watch”

“They what?”

“It’s part of the ritual, the pack needs to see me knot you… only then will they allow you to be mine, and for me to be yours…”

His lips were driving you crazy, and as much as you wanted to fight it, you were also excited by the prospect of being watched as you were claimed;

“Let’s do it Bucky… make me yours…”

Above you Bucky was shaking with need, his rut starting to take hold and he looked almost feral with need. Pulling out he quickly moved you into position on your knees, and you found yourself parting your legs and arching your back to present for him. Looking down at your soaked core, your slick pouring down your thighs whilst mixed with his cum, he let out a growl and thrust forward, filling you completely.

He held himself deep within your welcoming body for the longest moment, before with a surprisingly gentle grip took hold of your shoulders and pulled you upright, your back flush to his chest as his lips brushed against your ear;

“Show them, show them that I am yours and you are mine”

Bucky held you, his arms encircling your torso as he held your breasts in his large hands, all whilst thrusting up into you with powerful grind of his hips. This time felt different; you felt fuller, and that’s when you realised what it was; his knot was starting to grow, to inflate. Even though you were practically melting, from your heat and from the energy being expended by your lovemaking, you shivered. The realisation that it was happening; you were about to be knotted, claimed. Bucky picked up on your nerves, the slighted change in your scent;

“Omega, you’re doing so well, I could never have wished for a better mate…”

As he spoke his teeth brushed over your bonding mark and you felt yourself rocking down harder with each of his thrusts until you felt it, his knot just slightly caught then slipped out again, causing you to whine like an animal denied its favourite treat;

“Nearly there Omega, near-ly th-ere…”

Each syllable was punctuated by a thrust, your body trembling, on the precipice again with your orgasm, until you heard his words;

“It’s time Omega…”

“Claim me Bucky, make me yours”

With one final thrust you felt his knot notch inside and this time stick just as your orgasm crashed through your body. The added tightness of your body gripped his made Bucky let out a howl, roaring up at the sky as he bared his teeth, and with a rumble in his chest he brought his teeth down to your neck and claimed you.

You felt the skin break, his teeth digging into your bonding mark and the warm trickle of your blood down your neck and chest. The moment seemed to be frozen in time, noise filling your ears before you opened your eyes and saw the pack outside; all wolves, all howling simultaneously as they celebrated the pack leader having claimed his Omega.

Pulling his teeth away from your skin Bucky gently licked over the wound, helping it to heal, all whilst your bodies were still joined. You felt weak, exhaustion taking over, and with careful movement so not to jar his knot within you, Bucky moved your pliable body until you were lying on your side, Bucky’s strong arms wrapped around you. The forest fell quiet and you heard the gentle sound of paws retreating into the distance, and the last thought that went through your mind as the pack retreated was that you were complete.

For three days and nights you spent it in Bucky’s arms. After that first night the drapes were pulled across all the windows, Bucky laughed that the pack had their show, now it was time for a private performance. And oh boy did he perform; your body was tired and aching but in the most beautiful way, you had a glow to you that both of you already knew was the first sign that Bucky’s seed had taken, and already you in your mind could feel the pups within you start to grow. Bucky gently laughed when you’d told him;

“Surely it’s too early Omega?”

“I just know Bucky…”

You’d been in the huge tub at the time, your bodies joined yet again, warm water lapping at his knot as you let the scented water wash over your bodies for some interesting lovemaking, straddling him as he lay back against the side, you took his hands and rested them on your stomach;

“Do you feel it? Can you sense it?”

Bucky paused for a moment before his eyes went wide;

“There’s something… I can feel this heat, this power coming from you…” he laughed happily and pulled you to him, wrapping his arms around your body and burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as he sobbed tears of joy.

Walking up the path to your father’s house you gripped Bucky’s hand tight, nervous about what you were going to say. As you approached the porch the door opened and you saw him, standing at the doorway as he watched you. For a moment his face was neutral as he took in the two of you, and then he sensed it and you could see his eyes starting to water. Rushing to you Tony wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight before finally stepping back;

“Will you look at that, my baby is gonna have her own baby…”

“Dad! How do you know?!”

“Honey, a father knows. Plus, I can pick it up on your scent” Finally he turned to Bucky and extended his hand; “It’s good to finally meet you…”

“Thank you, Sir. Its James, but everyone calls me Bucky”

“Please Bucky, call me Tony”

“Well Tony, I guess I’d better ask for your permission to marry your daughter?”

Laughing Tony let go of your shoulders;

“I thought that was a given… seeing a you’ve already knocked her up?”

The two men laughed and you rolled your eyes, letting your father lead you into the kitchen. Over pancakes and bacon, you worked out your future, your dark wolf beside you the whole way.

#alpha bucky barnes #alpha bucky x omega reader #werewolf bucky barnes #abo dynamics #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction

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okthatsbad · 4 years ago

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Bring Me a Dream

(Written for @analogicalweek 2021 ayyy)

Day 3: Nightmares/ Dreams

Word count: 2292

Summary: When Virgil finds himself trapped, he accepts help from an unexpected stranger. But if Virgil doesn’t know this person, why does it feel like they’ve met before?

Read on [Ao3]

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Virgil is alone in a room full of people.

Because that’s what they are, right? Though the light is dim and he can’t make out any real details, he can tell that they’re people, just shuffling aimlessly around in the dense fog. And yet…

Virgil treads closer, keeping his steps light, pulse thrumming in his throat.

The way they move- their jerky, stuttering steps, the way their limbs creak and click with every slight shift of their bodies… It’s enough to make him freeze in place, hoping they wouldn’t notice him.

He hurriedly takes in his surroundings. Nothing helpful behind him, nowhere in sight where he can hide. He scans for an opening, any clear path to the door he sees on the other side but the only way across is through them.

His throat tightens at the thought, but that door is the only chance he’s got. He needs to move. Now.

Painstakingly slow, he creeps towards the mob, doing his best to keep his breathing steady, fixing his eyes into the middle distance. He scrunches his nose as he passes by a few stragglers, at the faint sour smell staining the cool air, wondering if it was coming from them or the damp fog.

He’s close enough to touch them now. So many bodies, so many “people”, but it’s only getting colder, only more obvious that he’s the odd one out.

The door is only several yards away.

Gritting his teeth, he pushes through.

He brings his arms close to his chest, trying to make himself smaller, but it isn’t enough to completely avoid them. Cold, pulpy bodies brush against him as he ducks and weaves through the crowd, his skin crawling with every touch.

Some stop to gaze at him as he passes by. He swallows down the lump in his throat, praying they couldn’t hear the harsh thumping in his chest.

The hairs on his neck stand on end as the creaking and clicking resound in his ears. He thinks he can hear whispers behind him, but he doesn’t dare look back, keeping a steady pace to the exit.

The door is only a few yards away.

He’s in the thick of it now and the smell coats his insides, he could practically chew on it. The freezing fog clings to his shallow breaths, and the whispers only get louder and they’re not moving around him anymore, they’re moving towards him, they’re pressing in on him.

Heart in his throat, he moves faster. Trembling hands cover his mouth, hiding his traitorous breaths.

He only just holds back a scream when one of them pushes their face towards him, desperate to get a look.

It only has waxy, gray skin where its eyes should be, only swollen, twisted flesh in place of its mouth. It looks just like a neighbor of his.

He scrambles back, frenzied whispers roaring in his ears and he sees familiar faces everywhere. Neighbors, coworkers, family. Pushing and clawing, crowding to see him.

One of them suddenly grabs him and he just as quickly shoves them away. The body topples over and bursts open at the seams, Virgil’s handprints still visible from where they’ve sunk into its flesh.

Virgil chokes on the spoiled stench that erupts from it, gagging at the greasy, slimy film it leaves behind on his hands.

Lungs burning, he makes a mad dash for the exit, shoving and pushing away curious hands that try to tug on his clothes and hair.

He runs but the door is never closer than the few feet away it teases to be.

Another hand manages to snag his elbow and he yanks it back before slamming it right into its chest.

Except it… grunts.

“Please- I’m trying to help,” it wheezes.

He whirls around to see a person, an actual human-looking person, wincing and rubbing their sternum. They reach out again, “I can help you, just come with me.”

Without a second thought, Virgil grabs their hand, warm and sturdy in his own.

The stranger pulls him close and they run so fast, they’re practically flying. They flee back in the direction Virgil came from, tearing through the crowd of bodies until they’re finally alone.

“We need to leave. Think of a place,” they say.

“A place?” Virgil pants.

“Preferably somewhere you feel safest, got it?” They dig around in their pockets for something.

A kind memory flashes in his mind. “Got it.”

“Good.” They flick what feels like sand into Virgil’s eyes.

Virgil instantly recoils. “What’d you do that for?!” he hisses, rubbing viciously at his eyes.

“Stop,” they gently put their hands on his, “Just blink.”

Virgil growls but obeys anyway. He blinks once, twice, and he’s not in that awful room anymore.

Instead, he’s in the backyard of his old house, the setting sun still giving enough golden light to warm a fresh night. Fireflies begin to dot the sky, wafting along a rain-scented breeze.

Virgil takes a deep, shuddering breath and crumples to the ground. Closing his eyes, he picks at the dewy grass and takes a moment.

He’s not running anymore.

He’s not dying.

He’s not going to die.

The grass next to him sways as the stranger kneels down next to him. “Can I touch you?”

Virgil nods and leans into their hand as they steadily stroke his hair.

He’s home.

He’s ok.

He’s safe.

Virgil exhales. He’s home. He’s ok. He’s safe. He’s home. He’s ok. He’s safe.

He opens his eyes and glances at them. They’re looking at him, not with pity or indifference, but with bright eyes, like he’s something worth admiring. “Thanks,” he says hoarsely, his stupid little heart thu-thumping away.

“You’re welcome,” they nod.

They both stay like that for a while, the rustling grass filling in the balmy silence.

Normally, Virgil would’ve been on edge trying to handle a stranger’s presence, hating to sit in awkward silence but unwilling to deal with more awkward small talk.

But this feels so sincerely different from any kind of interaction he’s had with other people. It’s nice. It’s gentle. He looks over the field, feeling light as air. It’s just as beautiful as he remembers it.

He sneaks another glance at them. Their hand is still in his hair, just lightly scratching his scalp and giving him little goosebumps, but their eyes are unfocused, almost glazed over. He doesn’t cozy up to people this fast, he swears, so why now? Why them?

He takes a moment to study them.

Broad shoulders and a firm chest. Dark hair that curls just the slightest bit at the ends. A sharp jawline leading into a strong chin. A straight nose and high cheekbones. Perfectly shaped brows framing vivid eyes. Pouty lips.

Virgil swallows. He sees the bits and pieces of the person next to him, he knows he’s seen them before, but when they’re all put together he can’t recognize the bigger picture.

They run their fingers through his bangs, sweeping them to the side. Virgil is torn between asking them to stop and begging them to never leave. This kind of patience, this type of care is so rarely shown to him these days that he isn’t quite sure what to do with himself. He just hopes that if they notice how hot his face is, they wouldn’t mention it. “Are your eyes still bothering you?”

Virgil, still heady from their touch, blinks, “Uh no actually, they’re fine now.”

They stop stroking his hair, much to his dismay, and move to sit criss-cross next to him. “Well they’ve always been fine, this sand can’t harm you and I sincerely doubt you felt any actual pain,” They pull out a simple pouch from their pocket and tie it to their belt loop, “You just seemed to have such a reaction to it, I thought it best to ask after your well-being anyway.”

Virgil rolls his eyes but is trying not to smile, “Oh so you’re calling me extra for having a normal human response to something being thrown into their eyes?”

“Extra?” They tilt their head.

“Yeah extra, like dramatic, y’know?” he shrugs.

“I see. Well, I certainly didn’t say that but I wouldn’t disagree with you if that's what you think,” They say, pushing their glasses up with a wry smile.

“Whatever, you smartass,” Virgil chuckles, “Warn a dude next time, yeah?”

They nod, “I’ll take it into consideration.”

Virgil decides they’re not actually trying to be sarcastic and scoffs, “What’s your name anyway?”

“My name is Logan,” they say simply, except it’s not at all simple because now that Virgil thinks about it, this stranger’s name is Logan because he has Logan’s bright eyes, he has Logan’s sculpted face, he has Logan’s dorky glasses, he has Logan’s ridiculous pouch of blue sand that weirdly smells like berries.

His name is Logan and it has been all this time. Why did he even think to ask this of someone he already knew?

“I… I know you,” Virgil says hesitantly.

“Nice to meet you again Virgil,” Logan smiles.

“H-How do I know you? Why couldn’t I remember you?” Virgil asks.

“You were in trouble, so I came to help,” Logan gazes at the sunset.

“That’s not an answer,” Virgil retorts.

Logan’s brow furrows but says nothing. He keeps his eyes steady on the horizon. It would be dark soon.

Virgil pauses, fiddling with the grass. It looks strangely blurry.

He glances over to Logan. The glowing light dances over his features making him softer, almost ethereal. Virgil wants to know more about him, needs to, but maybe he’s not asking the right questions.

“Do I get into trouble often then?” he mumbles.

Logan sighs, “Unfortunately yes, more often than either of us would like.”

“Do you save me each time?”

Logan shakes his head, “Only if and when it’s necessary.” His eyes gleam, “Though sometimes you manage to get out just fine on your own. It’s an impressive feat to witness truly. It’s not something many people can do.”

“Do you do this with others too?”

“Help them?”

“Talk with them. Take them somewhere nice,” Virgil nods to the scenery. The fireflies are glowing brighter the lower the sun sets.

Logan clears his throat, “No.”

Virgil would like to think he sees a slight flush bloom up on Logan’s cheek but he tells himself it’s just the lighting, even though the sun is completely hidden away now.

He decides to ask again.

“Why don’t I remember you?”

Logan sighs, slumping in on himself slightly, “I’m not designed to be remembered, I’m only meant to assist you. You’ve only been getting a few meager hours of sleep these past couple of nights and what little sleep you have gotten has been abysmal in quality, no doubt because of those nightmares. It’s… troubling to see you in such a state. So I intervened.”

“My sleep? What does that...” Virgil trails off as the puzzle pieces begin to fall in place. The night becomes darker than it naturally should, even the fireflies are gone now, but Logan’s pouch seems to faintly glow.

“I advise you not to overthink this one too much. Most people don’t remember their dreams, it’s perfectly normal,” Logan picks himself up and dusts himself off, signing off the conversation. “Have a good morning, Virgil.”

Instead of saying goodbye, telling him to stay, or even demanding more answers, Virgil changes the script. He lunges forward, snagging the pouch, and grabs a pinch of sand.

“If I don’t remember you, remind me,” Virgil quickly smears it on his palm, “Keep reminding me until the day I can say ‘hi’ to you first. Promise?” His heartbeat feels heavier now, more solid in his chest. It’s so dark now, he can barely see his own hand in front of him.

“Virgil I... y-yes, okay. I promise,” A voice says faintly.

Virgil blinks once, twice and he wakes up in his bedroom.

He shifts around to get more comfortable, maybe catch a few more minutes of sleep, but the bleak sunlight filters through the blinds in the most annoying way.

Strangely though, it wasn’t as obnoxious as it’d been the last couple days. Seems like he’d actually gotten some decent sleep this time.

Sitting up, he wipes his bleary eyes when he notices something that’s very out of place.

A big letter ‘L’ on the palm of his hand, smeared on with what looks like… sand?

It definitely wasn’t there last night, so what the hell happened?

He tilts his hand this way and that, when he catches a hint. Quickly getting up, he holds his hand up to the light. If he shifts it at just the right angle, he can see it gleam a brilliant cobalt blue.

Blue sand?

Blue sand...

A memory surfaces but it just as quickly begins to slip away and Virgil scrambles for a pen and paper before it’s completely gone.

“L” the Sandman

Blue sand in a pouch (smells sweet?) (edible??)

Glasses (does he need those?)

Kinda hot but whatever

Friend...

Virgil tries to sketch out what he thinks L’s face looks like, but with only a fleeting memory to go off of, he isn’t particularly satisfied with the result and the vagueness of it all.

He closes his eyes, trying to go back, trying to remember what they were doing.

They were... outside on some grass… watching a sunset. Virgil had felt… content.

He smiles softly and glances over the list again. It definitely isn’t a lot, but it’s a start and he can only hope he sees “L” soon.

He spends the day eager to go to sleep again, if only for a chance to add more to the list.

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#analogicalweek #analogical #i haven't written anything in such a long time so this was fun #thank you for reading <3 #hope y'all liked it!#drop a comment and/or a kudos on ao3 if y'all want #my fic #my fics

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jem-2096 · 4 years ago

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Brunette from Mars - (Peter Parker One shot)

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of fighting/abuse, FLUFFY AF!

(This could be read as ftm!peterparker and/or regular MCU Peter Parker)

This one shot is inspired by the song mars by Yungblud. Go give it a listen if you haven't!

You and the brunette haired boy with deep honey coloured irises quickly became good friends. You commuted to school each morning together after learning you lived in the same apartment in Queens while your first day of highschool in homeroom. You were paired for some lame icebreakers to get to know other students. He had nervously blabbed to you about how he had moved apartments with his aunt over the summer and as you got to know him better over time, he let you know the reason why they moved.

You quickly learned that the brunette was a great listener, quick witted, fairly thoughtful, determined with his studies, had a passion for tinkering with programming and computer tech and secretly kept a picture of Daisy Ridley as Rey from Star Wars in his desk that you won't let him live down.

Two summers ago, the brunette had quite the glow up that to be honest made your stomach do flips. After returning from a trip to Detroit with his Aunt May to visit family, the brunette came back to school with his braces off and a nice build to him compared to the lanky string bean he was when he had left in that June.

With this overnight glow up also came this new habit of him flaking on you and really everyone without reasonable explanations. He would come to school with bruised knuckles, scratches on his face, and more often than not bags under his eyes. Although he seemed exhausted, his smile and upbeat self usually didn't seem to waver. His eyes did however seem to say otherwise whenever his honey brown irises met yours.

Unless he flaked on an important commitment, you didn't display emotions or words for his lack of presence. His world didn't revolve around you and you accepted that. You reminded yourself to try not to hold him back from what he loved because you were a good friend and wanted what was best for him, even if it was draining him.

"I'm free to study for algebra after dinner tonight." You stated to the brunette, looking past him out the city bus window as the buildings, and trees whirled past you. You weren't looking for an answer at this point, just giving him an open invitation to come over if he had nothing better to do on his Thursday night. You saw him nod out of the corner of your eye as he leaned his head against the pole you both were holding onto and closed his eyes. The bus was quiet this morning as you watched the orange sunrise dance over the brunette's features and could hear the beat of whatever song he was listening to through his headphones.

A GPS like voice came over the bus intercom as you turned the corner. "Grand Central Parkway at 65th Avenue". You pulled the chord on the side of the bus for the bus driver to stop and gently shook the brunette's shoulder. As you saw his honey coloured eyes once again, you nodded in the direction of the door for you to both get off.

You were early to school today seeing as you made the transfer bus in time for the first time in forever. Walking through the dewy grass on the field together, you pointed at an open picnic table near the tennis courts.

Setting your backpack down, you opened it grabbing out two granola bars and an apple. The brunette slumped down beside you to face away from the sun. As he set his coffee on the table, his head immediayley went into his folded arms. You placed one of the granola bars infront of him, and sat facing the courts. Stretched your legs out and crossing your ankles, you flipped through one of your novels, quickly finishing up your AP lit reading before class.

"Thanks." You heard him pipe up in a monotone voice as he shoved the granola bar in his pocket. You nodded, nose still in your novel. He knew by now that he didn't have to put on an act around you. "We gotta go in, in 20. I'll wake you in 15, kay?"

He nodded as his head was back in his arms, facing away from you. You heard him let out an audible sigh as you finished up the last of your notes.

"Pete?" You ask hesitantly, resting your hand on his shoulder. He didn't respond. "You know, you can tell me anything right? I won't push you. The offer still stands. No judgement. Alright?" You say quietly, softly rubbing your hand down his jacket clad back and let it drop off to collect your things and pack up your bag.

The alarm you set on your phone goes off as you see him prop his head up and wipe his eyes on his sleeve out of the corner of your eye.

'Oh Peter. Sometimes, as close as we are, I wish it didn't feel as though there was a cement wall between us.' You thought to yourself as you scrolled through your phone. As you both stood to walk up to the school, to your surprise, as cold and distant as he had been recently, he pulled you into his side. You wrapped your arms around his torso giving him a quick hug.

After taking attendance in home room and catching up with MJ about her latest find in the school library, you were dismissed to your first period class. "Leave your window open at 6." You heard the brunette pipe up at your lockers. "Always." You nodded, giving him a small smile before parting ways to your classes.

You quickly glanced at your alarm clock on your desk reading 8:30 pm. Quickly realizing you were running out of graph paper in your notebook as you flipped to a fresh page, you scribbled down the next practice question. Your headphones blasted one of your new favourite songs as you disconnected them from the bluetooth on your phone to play out loud. "Do you feel like your irrelevant, do you feel like your just scared as fuck.." You quietly sang along, writing a note to get more graph paper in the near future, as you heard a thud from the window beside you.

Swiveling in your chair, you look up to see the silhouette of the brunette. As he steps into the light of your desk lamp and sits on your bed you can see his eyes are red and his knuckles are beginning to bruise again. He kicks off his sneakers as you hesitantly stand from your chair to go and to sit beside him.

He immediately buries his face in his hands as he quietly cries. You try your best to not show the hurt on your face from seeing him like this as you gently rub his back. You go to sit behind him up against the wall. You bring your hands around his waist gently holding him, letting your legs dangle on either side of him and rest your head on his shoulder.

When you no longer hear uneven breathing, you sit back up and one hand goes to the hair on the nape of his neck, softly playing with his locks, while the other gently rubs circles on his back.

"I'm sorry." You hear him sigh out. "Im so fucking sorry." He pleads as he begins to cry again. "I'm here. Just breathe Pete." You say calmly as you wrap your legs around his waist and hug him tighter. You take deep breaths for him to mimic to try and calm him back down.

"I keep fucking up Y/n/n, and I don't know what to do anymore." He painfully lets out. You take in his words and quickly think of an appropriate response. "Everyone I try to become close with has ended up hurt or passed away, I feel like I have the weight of the world on my shoulders and have to fill his shoes. No matter what decisions I make I still always end up letting someone down. I'm just so fucking tired Y/n." Although his words are a jumbled mess to you, you nod. You let go of the tense brunette and sit beside him. "Take your shirt off and go lie on your stomach." You say to him as he looks at you somewhat confused but does as he's told and props his head up on his folded arms.

You can see the faded scars and healed wounds on his arms, shoulders and back, wondering who gave these to him. As you sit straddling his waist, your hands go to his shoulders and back massaging his tense and knotted muscles. He lets out a big sigh of relief after realizing what's going on. He softly mewls as you gently work the knots out. Once all the tension in his back and shoulders is gone, you lay close beside the half awake brunette.

"Thank you." He states sincerely, as he rolls to face you. You know that his words of gratitude are for more than just the back massage. You nod, reaching your hand up to run your hands softly through his locks to relax him further as his eyes flutter shut at your touch. "We're all only capable of so much Pete. Please, don't set yourself on fire to keep others warm. It's a hard pill to swallow but its impossible to win every battle and win everyone over. I know it's easier said than done, and it'll take some time to figure everything out, but I'll be here every step of the way though alright?" You whisper softly, and reach for his hand giving it a squeeze as he nods. "I'll let you get some rest." You sigh out, sitting up, bringing the blanket at the end of the bed over his larger frame and bend down giving a kiss to his temple. "Goodnight love." You whisper.

After another hour and a half of battling through algebra questions, you quietly change into some sweats and open up your netflix account to get your mind off your math problems and your worries of Peter. Picking up your laptop, your half empty waterbottle falls to the floor with a thud. Your gaze darts over to your bed to see the naturally curly headed brunette sound asleep. Your heart flutters as you catch him pull the covers up to his chin and nuzzle his nose into the pillow and blankets while he curls his legs up into the fetal position. You sit on the floor beside your bed as the light from the movie on netflix illuminates your bedroom. You have the subtitles on and the movie on the lowest volume as you rest your back against the bed frame.

After a few minutes you begin to hear the brunette stir and roll over to face the movie. "Is this that BoxTrolls movie?" You hear him croak out in a deep voice that makes your heart flutter. "No, this one's Paranorman. It's in my top 5." You respond, your gaze still on the screen. You feel his fingers playing with the ends of your hair softly, trying his best not to disturb you even though you've seen this movie more times than you can remember.

He pushes all of your hair over to one of your shoulders and rests his chin on the opposite one. "You know, you don't have to sit on the floor right? I don't bite Y/n." He states sleepily in your ear. You quickly catch your breath at how close he is as you comprehend the words coming out of his mouth and nod standing. You place your laptop on your desk chair and wheel it over in front of the bed. Looking over to the brunette laying confortably in your bed, he holds the blanket open for you to get in. "One sec." You say as you take off your hoodie, revealing your white tank top underneath that clung to the hills and slopes of your natural curves. You had ditched your bra long before the Brunette had arrived, remembering that it's laying in the clothes hamper and not on your body. You looked back down to see the brunette's arm still holding the blanket open, his honey eyes on you. They slowly wandered down your silhouette to see the loose sweatpants hung low on your hips and back up to meet your gaze. The dark room concealed the deep blush you felt on your cheeks from his gaze. 'Too late now..' you thought as you climbed under the blanket. Your back rested up against Peter's larger frame. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Is this okay y/n/n?" The brunette questioned. You nodded, trying your best to calm your breathing as you felt his warm, gentle touch on your skin. You hoped and prayed he couldn't hear your heartbeat pounding in your chest. 'I feel so safe and at home in his arms but the last thing he needs right now is a girlfriend. And why would he want to be with me anyways. We're just friends and he probably just needs physical affection from someone right now.' You thought to yourself.

You let out a soft sigh at your thoughts. "You okay sweetheart?" He asks softly, as you feel his warm lips peck the back of your exposed neck. Your face is on fire at this point. 'He's just tired Y/n. Calm down. Dont say anthing stupid' "Yeah, I just feel safe in your arms." You murmur loud enough for him to hear. 'Idiot. You ruined it. Shit shit shit.'

It became deathly quiet between you two. You could hear his breathing, the rain hitting your bedroom window, the cars driving on the street below, your upstairs neighbour walking around their apartment and the dull volume of the movie playing from your laptop.

"Y/n/n?" You heard him whisper.

You rolled over to face him, burying your face in his chest, breathing in his warm cologne and body wash as you wrapped your arm around his waist and tangled your legs in his. Although you didn't have all the answers you were looking for, this the closest you two had been in over a year and you were happy that he was finally starting to let down his walls.

He stroked your hair, planting a kiss on the crown of your head. "Goodnight love." He mumbled before all the sounds around you in the silence of your bedroom coaxed you to sleep.

You had woken up to your alarm at 6:30am to find the spot beside you empty.

The brunette swore that was the best sleep he had had in months he thought, reminiscing as he climbed down the fire escape after quickly showering and getting ready to meet you before catching the bus. You heard a knock on your window before he slid it open and sat on the sil. He fiddled with tge metro card in his hands as a small smile crept onto his face watching you concentrating on finishing your eyeliner and mascara. You take a step back to look in the mirror to see if your wings are symmetrical, seeing the brunette looking at you with a sheepish grin in the reflection. He looked well rested for once, his eyes kind and soft, glancing at you in adoration. Your heart beats out of your chest as you spin around to look at him.

"One sec." You say quickly rushing out to the kitchen to grab some food before packing up your bag. Pulling on your coat and beanie, as you walk towards the window sill the brunette is lounging on.

"Before we go, I uhm... forgot to tell you something.. last night." He says looking down at his hands as you reach out gently hold his larger ones. "Y/n.. I uhm-" he looks up at you, scanning your features, trying his best to read your emotions. You see him glance down quickly at your soft lips. 'I can't take this. Screw always being a good friend.' You thought as you leaned in, placing a hand on his cheek and a soft kiss to his lips. Your thumb stroked his cheek as he leaned back in for another. Your forehead rested against his. "Was that what you wanted to tell me?" You asked in a hushed tone, looking down at his lips again. He nodded before giving them another peck. "Uhm.. we better go before we-" "oh.. yeah, your right. Shit!" You say, quickly checking the time on your phone.

As you dashed down the fire escape and towards the bus stop, his hand never left yours as you jogged behind him giggling at his antics of repeating "Shit" as he saw the bus waiting for you at your stop as you both jogged towards it. You couldn't see it but for the first time in a while, a genuine smile adorned the brunette's face and through whatever he was battling with, knowing you were by his side, there would be plenty more to come.

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years ago

Text

Promises Not Kept Part 21

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 21: Everything seems alright if only just for a moment.

It was so easy to block out all the noise from the reception below. Once the door of the bedroom was closed, Tommy and Leah cast aside the outside world. In that space and in that moment, they were the only things remaining.

Leah hastily worked at undoing the buttons of his suit. Her worries about keeping their guests waiting weren’t even in the back of her mind. She simply wanted to express her physical love for her husband.

But Tommy set the pace. His fingers wrapped around her wrist to slow her down. Kissing her languidly, he murmured affectionate words against her lips. “So beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”

“Please…” Leah gasped softly.

He didn’t relent and kept his steady pace. Taking his time, making her wait. “Turn around.”

She did so without hesitation. A soft sigh slipped off her lips when she felt his hands carefully undoing the ties of her dress. Every touch was lasting, burning through the fabric and just kissing her skin. Her toes curled when she felt Tommy’s breath on her bare shoulder. His lips grazing over the skin. He paused beside her ear. Playfully tugging at her lobe with his teeth before whispering to her.

“You’re mine, Leah.” His deep voice had her reeling with lust. “No other man will ever touch you this way again. Only I’ll get to see you like this. Undone.”

“Tom,” She whimpered. “Please don’t tease me any longer, please.”

“Say it.”

Leah knew what he wanted her to say. “I’m yours, Tommy. Forever.”

In a flash, he grabbed her by the waist and turned her so she was facing him again. But this time, she stopped him before he could kiss her.

“Now you say it.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Say it, Tommy.” His lips parted, small pants of want all he could muster. “Say it.”

He groaned with desire and pulled her flush against him. “I’m yours.”

“No other woman will touch you the way I touch you. Make you feel the way I do.” She ghosted her lips over his jaw causing a sharp jolt of electricity to travel down his spine.

“Yes.” He responded. It was difficult to hide the breathiness in his voice. He was too far gone to even attempt it.

“Then take what’s yours.”

Tommy didn’t need to be asked twice. He picked her up and brought her to the bed they shared. He pressed into her, letting her feel his weight. One hand hitched her thigh up to his hip, simply rocking together as they kissed.

Leah was dizzy with desire. For as many times as he’d kissed her before, somehow the feeling still overwhelmed her.

Tommy pushed himself up so he could get rid of the rest of his clothing. After he tugged his undershirt over his head, Leah saw the fresh bandages that still covered his side. Though it had been some time since his confrontation with Alfie on the beach, he was still healing.

Wordlessly, his wife grazed her fingers down his abdomen. Just barely touching the edges of the white gauze. She traced back up, dipping between the planes of his ribs and flattening her hand over his chest. Her palm resting over his tattoo. “This is the end of this, Tom.” She whispered. “No more. I can’t take you getting hurt again.”

He didn’t look away from her even if he couldn’t outright promise her he would never get harmed again. There were far too many people who would love to get a crack at him. “I’ve got more important things to focus on.” He responded, hoping it was enough to keep her satisfied on their wedding day.

A soft smile spread across her face. “Like?” She prompted.

“Like raising a family with you.” He lowered down, leaning on his elbows. “How’s that sound, aye?” His nose brushed over her jaw, his hair tickling her cheek.

She squirmed with want and looped her arms around his neck. “That sounds nice.”

He drew back to give her a devilish smirk. “Then I’ve got to get you pregnant, Mrs. Shelby.” He replied coyly.

His wife giggled and chewed on her lip. “Cheeky boy.” She accused before attacking him with kisses.

~~~~~~

As they attempted to reassume their put-together look of wedded bliss, Leah and Tommy lingered in the bedroom.

“So I was thinking about things we could do while you’re taking a break.” She said from her spot at the vanity, trying to fix her hair as best she could.

Tommy was sat on the bed putting on his cufflinks and arm garter. “Yeah, any ideas?”

“Well, I know how much Charlie would love to take the horses out. Find somewhere to picnic. I think you ought to take him out riding at least every other day. It would make him so happy.”

“Yeah, alright, I will.” He nodded in agreement. Spending time with the horses and his son sounded relaxing enough.

“And of course you can go hunting. Maybe even try to golf? Sort of posh but…” She laughed softly and shrugged. “You owe it to yourself to relax.”

The idea made Tommy absolutely sick to his stomach. But he faked a complacent look as he stood up. “Be nice to try new things.” Of course, he wanted to try new things. Wanted to try his hand in politics. Wanted to show those rich bastards that a workingman could speak just as eloquently as they could. Wanted to see changes he pushed for put into action.

But he wasn’t meant to be doing anything while on his holiday.

Tommy stood behind Leah at the vanity, resting his hands on her shoulders. She glanced up at him in the mirror. “I can’t tell you how happy I am right now.” She touched his hand. “Not only being married but…but being able to see you relax for the first time well…ever.”

The smile on his face was detached. Still, he bent down to kiss her cheek. “Take your time getting ready, I’ll stall for you.” He murmured and went to leave the bedroom. He was surely going to be sick if he had to keep talking about the holiday he was dreading.

~~~~~~~~~

And things were okay for about a month. Tommy and Leah bickered a little bit about the duration of his holiday. Eventually, she convinced him to wait out the summer. Three months of doing nothing but relaxing. No work. No business. No politics. Nothing.

Tommy was grateful for the memories he’d made in that first month. Charlie and Leah kept him busy enough that he didn’t feel like he was sitting around and twiddling his thumbs.

Together they took long rides out into the pastures. Charlie’s little pony tied up alongside Tommy’s gelding. Sometimes they went out to the stream that fed into a crystal clear pond or up to the glens to find the perfect meadow.

On shorter trips, they took Cyril along who liked to romp around the tall grass, chasing butterflies and rabbits in the thicket.

On a particularly sunny afternoon, the three, plus Cyril, went out to the pond. It was a warm day so they decided to take Charlie so he could swim. For a brief moment, Tommy was serene.

He lounged in the grass by the pond, legs outstretched, resting on his elbows. Cyril was sat near him, the mastiff paying close attention to Leah and Charlie. Leah had hitched up her skirt so she could wade into the water with Charlie who was swimming around like a little frog. He kept chirping at her to watch as he practiced ducking his head underwater. Leah praising the little guppy every time he resurfaced with a triumphant grin.

The hazy summer day felt like a romantic dream. The opening of a novel or a play. When everything was just perfect and airy. The mesmerizing blues and greens of the lush forest sparkling with mystique. The sun reflecting off the water and shining a façade. The laughter of his son and wife sounded too melodious. They appeared to glow in the summer shine.

Something in Tommy’s gut twitched. His forehead creased and he looked down at his hand resting in the dewy grass. It was shaking.

~~~~~~~~~

“Frances?” Leah called into the other room.

“Yes, Mrs. Shelby?” The maid entered the doorway.

“Is Tommy still out fishing?” She checked the clock a second time. Her husband had been due to be home half an hour ago. He’d promised that they would all have lunch together on the lawn. When he left, he seemed to be in a daze but Leah assumed he would keep his promise and arrive home at the time they agreed on.

“No, Mrs. Shelby. I haven’t seen him arrive home. Should I ask one of the stable boys to go and fetch him?” Frances asked politely.

“No need.” Leah stood and set aside the letter she was writing. “I’ll go get some fresh air, it’s not too long of a walk.”

“It’s a bit chilly out, let me fetch your coat.”

“Oh,” Leah stopped her before she left. “fetch one of Tommy’s riding coats, I don’t want to get any of mine dirty. It’s awfully damp out there.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

~~~~~~~~

The walk to the pond took Leah around the back of Arrow House’s property and into the trails. She often took walks on them with Charlie, so she was familiar with the route. Although it wasn’t raining out, there was a heavy damp feeling to the air. The sun had barely made an appearance all day but Tommy still insisted on going out. After all, he was meant to be relaxing.

But Leah could tell he was on edge. Strangely, even more so than when they were all under threat from Luca Changretta. It obviously seemed backward, but Polly mentioned the possibility of a change in Tommy’s demeanor. So Leah did her best to watch for the signs and act accordingly. He was entering his third month of holiday. But Leah couldn’t see how that would contribute to his uneasy behavior. How could anyone on a break get so anxious?

Leah arrived at the pond and found Tommy still there. He noticed her coming but didn’t stand to greet her. His eyes stared out across the marshy pond, glazed over in deep thought.

“Caught anything?” She asked softly.

His head barely shook to the side to answer.

Leah touched his shoulder and cleared her throat. There was tension radiating from him but she couldn’t understand why. He was simply sitting there, sitting by a peaceful pond, no enemies holding guns at his head. No danger in sight. “You’ve gone quiet the last few days. I’ve been worried.”

The muscles in his jaw flexed but he still didn’t say anything.

“Tommy, if there’s something bothering you…”

He heard it before she did. And he heard it differently than she did.

Planes.

German planes.

German bombers.

Tommy reacted quickly. He grabbed Leah by the waist and dropped them both to the ground. Tucking his head under his arm, he braced for the impact.

Leah hardly could react in time. “Tommy!” She pushed him off. “Tommy, they’re just hunters!”

His ears stopped ringing when he heard another gunshot. Then another accompanied by the cheerful rejoicing of hunters and a bark of hounds. Slowly, he released his hold on Leah.

She stood up in disbelief. “What the hell was that all about?” She demanded and took in her now mud-covered dress.

Dazed, Tommy looked around and then up at her. He tilted onto his side and remained there for a second. “I heard planes.” He whispered.

Leah looked up at the gray sky. “Well, I hardly think there are any planes flying that low.”

He shook his head. “Bombers. I heard bombers.” The soldier stood up and held out his hand. “I’ve got the shakes now.” He’d known for weeks now. Couldn’t seem to get control of it even when he dug his fingernails into his palm or sat on his hands. Still, he had yet to tell Leah about it.

His wife took his hand, resting it gently over her palm. Indeed, his hand was trembling violently beyond the man’s own control. “I’ll call the doctor.” Her irritated tone softened. “He’ll be able to see you on Monday. Maybe sooner if you need it.”

“Don’t need a doctor.” He muttered and began to pack up his fishing gear.

“I’ve heard about this, men who came back from the war suffer…”

Tommy cut her off. “Don’t need a doctor.” He repeated in an icy tone and turned his back to her.

Leah wrinkled her nose and crossed her arms over her chest. “So now you’re not going to listen to me at all?” She kept at him even when he gathered everything and started walking down the trail. “Even though I’m your wife and I’ve got every right to be worried about you?”

His strides were much longer than hers and he didn’t slow his pace. Instead, she had to jog a few steps to keep up with him. “Leah, I’m not having this conversation. Forget about it.”

“Forget about it? I’ve heard you up all hours of the night. You drink all day and all night. You’re always angry!” She snapped and slogged her way through the muddy path to catch up. “Charlie’s terrified you’ll be upset with him. He asks after you because he has no clue what’s gotten into you. Neither have I!”

“Leah…” Tommy spoke her name in a warning tone but didn’t stop or slow down.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for weeks, being able to relax and live without the worry of being killed. But now you’ve changed so much and you won’t even talk to me!” She wouldn’t relent. Too many times she’d sat back and stayed quiet. No more. Polly had given her more than enough wisdom on how to deal with a Shelby man at his worst.

So she stopped in the middle of the path. “Thomas Michael Shelby you fucking stop and speak to me this instant!” She shouted.

Tommy’s gait stuttered. It was so seldom that Leah raised her voice that it caught him off guard. But it didn’t relieve the building tension inside. So he kept walking and left her there.

~~~~~~~~

It was a good thing Arrow House had so many rooms. Because Leah did not want to be in the same room as Tommy for at least the rest of the day. She was already deciding which room to sleep in because damned if she wanted to sleep in the same bed after what he’d done that morning.

To spare Charlie, she did her best to conceal her anger. There was no need for the little boy to worry about both of his parents.

But when Charlie asked where Tommy was, Leah instructed him to go find him. She stayed behind, tidying up his room so she wouldn’t have to see her husband.

Not much time passed before Leah heard glass shattering. She got up and hurried into the hall, worried Charlie might’ve fallen and hurt himself. Instead, the little boy was rushing upstairs in tears.

“Something’s wrong with daddy.” He whimpered.

“Oh dear.” Leah mumbled under her breath and scooped Charlie up. “He’s alright, poppet, he’s just…sad.” She walked downstairs to find Mary so she could watch after the trembling child.

Another loud noise came from the big room and when Leah stormed in, she was met with a disaster. Self-Destructive chaos that Tommy inflicted on himself. Several glasses had shattered on the ground. Some books and papers were knocked off the desk that Tommy was using to try and stay upright.

No matter how much he drank, he did have a limit. And it appeared he had reached that limit about three glasses of whiskey ago.

Not noticing Leah’s entrance, Tommy fell to his knees, gripping his hand. He let out a sob and hunched over. Such a powerful man with such an air of confidence had resulted in nothing but a drunken mess on the floor.

It stabbed Leah right in the heart to see him in such a state. She didn’t think he was stupid or being silly. He was hurting.

“Tommy, what’ve you done?” She sighed and picked her way over the broken glass to get to him. She knelt down and reached for his hand.

“Lee…” He groaned and lurched forward a little.

She let him lean on her shoulder and grabbed his injured hand. The broken glass had sliced open his palm and blood was beginning to trickle down his pale skin. “Goodness.”

“Doesn’t hurt.” He slurred and slumped against her shoulder. “Can’t feel it. Can’t feel anything.”

Leah pinched his arm making him yelp. “You feel that? That’s your bloody wife about to take care of you.” She said firmly. “Now sit still and wait. Don’t be touching anything else.”

With some help, Tommy leaned against the back of his desk, legs outstretched and slouching like a petulant child. But he obeyed and stayed put while Leah grabbed a cloth to apply to the cut.

The two of them sat surrounded by glass in the rich carpet. The sunlight was starting to fade and they were left in darkness soon enough.

“M’sorry, Lee,” Tommy whispered after his wife grabbed a bit of gauze to wrap around his hand.

“Don’t apologize. You can apologize to your son in the morning when you’re sober.” She replied tersely.

He nodded sloppily and let his eyes slide shut, his head resting against his desk. “D’you still love me?”

Leah scoffed. “That’s a ridiculous thing to ask, Thomas. And now’s not the time.”

“Do you?” He didn’t seem to hear how peeved off she was.

“Of course I still fucking love you.” She huffed. “If I didn’t love you then I wouldn’t be here putting your pieces back together, now would I? If I didn’t love you then I’d’ve taken your Bentley and disappeared. But I’m still here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah.”

Finishing with a knot in the gauze, she let Tommy’s hand go limp in his lap. “I don’t know what goes through that big brain of yours.” Her eyes were steady on him. “But I know that you’re hurting. And you can’t continue to live this way. Maybe I’m not the person who can help but I need you to know that I’m always here for you.”

He grumbled in response and leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of her neck. She wrapped her arms around him and cradled him close.

“It’s okay to be hurt, Tommy.” She soothed. “It’s okay to cry, it’s okay to have emotions. It’s okay not to be okay.”

He shuddered against her, the substances in his blood causing him to lose the calm demeanor he was so proud to keep even in the worst of situations. Years of suppressing emotions had finally caught up to him. He was able to ignore them in the fast-paced life he kept. The life or death situations keeping the dark thoughts at bay.

But after three months of living quietly, he couldn’t continue pushing them away. The things that haunted him, creeping over his shoulder and whispering in his ear, were now standing in front of him and screaming in his face. The men he watched die, the earth burying him, the song they all sang together, the sound of the enemies approaching. The men he had killed. Grace’s death. The moment he realized Leah and Charlie had been taken.

Tommy’s fingers curled around Leah’s shoulders, gripping onto her. “It’s too much.”

“Sh, let me take it then. Let me handle it. For a moment.” She whispered and pressed her lips to his hair. “Give all the thoughts, all the burdens to me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After reassuring Charlie that everything was okay, Leah got Tommy to bed. She practically had to undress him; he was still thoroughly fucked up by the whiskey. But eventually she got him under the covers and he passed out seconds after hitting the pillow. Before long, he was snoring away.

Leah stayed up reading, her hand gently rubbing Tommy’s back as he slept. She was emotionally exhausted after the day. It scared her seeing him so out of control. But there was little she could do to put him back together. That was up to him. All she could was be there for him and try to support him.

With a sigh, she realized she wasn’t really absorbing any of the words on the page. Instead, she had been reading the same paragraph over and over again while her mind ran amok. She put the book aside and reached over to turn off the lamp. With the room swathed in darkness, she was left alone with her thoughts.

She knew she was pregnant. Had known for almost a month. There were suspicions when her period was late and then Polly confirmed it for her. Leah was ecstatic to tell Tommy, but couldn’t bring herself to. Not when she noticed the decline in his health and behavior. What would another child do to him? Scare him? Anger him? Cause him more stress? Anxiety?

He seemed so unstable; there was no way of knowing. And yet, Leah knew that she needed to tell him soon. Before she began to show and he accused her of lying.

She also needed to go to the doctor. But Polly warned that the second she did, Tommy would know. He knew all the doctors in Birmingham and they all answered to him whether they liked it or not.

Leah rolled over and wrapped her arms around Tommy, pressing her forehead against his back. “Tommy, I’m pregnant.” She whispered. She wanted to hear the words, test them out on her tongue. Even though she knew he was out cold, panic bubbled inside. What if he suddenly waked and demanded to know what she was talking about?

She waited for a beat, but Tommy’s breathing didn’t stutter and he didn’t stir.

“I’m pregnant.”

Nothing. The whiskey had done its job of knocking him out for at least another few hours.

Leah lifted her head and pressed a kiss to the bullet wound on his shoulder blade. “I’m pregnant with our child, Tom.” She whispered. Once she said it, she couldn’t stop. “Polly thinks it’s a girl. I want to go to the doctor and hear the heartbeat. Think about it. A sister for Charlie. A beautiful little girl with your eyes. She’ll be here soon. Soon enough.” She swallowed and rested her head back onto the pillow, her arms withdrawing from Tommy’s waist. “I’m pregnant.” She said aloud one more time before pressing a palm to her abdomen.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy woke up the next morning with an unbearable headache. He could hardly see for a moment and his body groaned with protest as he sat up. The bed beside him was empty and bright sunlight shone through the curtains. So he naturally assumed it was late in the morning and Leah was already up and out.

“Fuck…” He swung his legs around to press his feet to the floor. The pounding in his head was merciless as he rubbed his eyes. But he was slowly starting to remember a few things about the night before. The gauze on his hand reminded him of the glass cutting his palm. The careful application of the bandage reminding him that Leah was there to take care of him. Her gentle hand escorting him to bed. And he’d dreamed something. Something odd. Leah sitting up in bed beside him, holding a baby girl in her arms.

Strange.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe

Tag list: @shelbyblinded

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #ofc #oc #polly gray #season 4 #charles shelby #fluff #angst #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy fanfiction

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angst-king · 4 years ago

Text

Buko no witchy Academia

(I do not own any characters of BNHA only the fict)

((Talk me down))

Kaminari was walking down the halls of the UA dorms to go and get some fresh air. While heading down the halls, Kaminari could hear sniffling. It was only a turn around the corner when he saw Shinsou curled up in the corner. He could tell that the other was shaking and wasn't in high spirits. Lots of people told Kaminari about how bad Shinsou was, and even witnessed what they did to the purple haired boy who he'd like to get to know better than what people have rumored off to him. He kneels down in front of Shinsou "Sh-shinsou are you okay?" the blonde notices the tears and frowned. "please Shinsou I want to help you, tell me what's wrong." Shinsou then muttered with a look of disgust "get away before they hurt you too. you should be afraid of me." Kaminari raised a brow "what am I supposed to be scared of, what are you gonna do turn me into a frog? I'm serious Shinsou now tell me" Tilting the taller one's face to make them see each other clearly, Shinsou had a split lip and a bruised bloody nose. "oh shinsou you can't let them hurt you like this" He says softly with caring honey colored eyes gazing at the injured boy. "Wh-why not, if I fight back they'll just have a reason to hurt me more." then another string of painful words come out "its not like anyone cares for me anyway." A burst of emotions and Kaminari harshly tugs Shinsou into his arms. "I care about you Shinsou!" Kaminari exclaims which shocks Shinsou "N-no, you're just saying that to make me feel better." "Shinsou, I may be stupid but I'm not an idiot when it comes to feeling and knowing that what they do to you is cruel. They claim normies are bad, but here they are harassing you. you do not deserve that, you deserve better...so much better." Kaminari then stood up, holding a hand out to Hitoshi who hesitantly took it and stood up. "Come on I'll take you to my room to fix you up" Shinsou silently follows the electric blond. In Kaminari's room he sit Hitoshi down on the bed, and goes into his special box that had a first aid kit with supplies. He grabs the box and comes over. Cleaning up the blood and giving Shinsou something to help with the pain. Kaminari then had an idea, he stood up and tugged Shinsou up with him. "W-where are we going?" Shinsou asked confusedly stumbling, Denki smirked to him "a special place" while leading him out of the dorm and over to the elevator. Down through the lobby, people glared at Shinsou who tried to distract himself with following Denki. They were soon outside and it was quite cloudy, Denki's favorite type of weather. It was a small walk into the forest until they enter a a very meadow-ey area. "finally we're here" Huffed Denki who drops to his knees softly landing in the soft grass. "Where are we Kaminari why are we in a meadow?" Shinsou had so many questions that filled his head and Denki was willing to answer. "we're in a meadow, I come here when I'm either too full of magic, or just need a place to relax..Believe it or not but I like to meditate it makes me feel better." Denki sits with his legs crossed with a small smile, he notices that Shinsou is still standing awkwardly, he pats the ground next to him. "come on sit with me" Denki then goes into his phone, then finding his playlist while Shinsou slowly sits down with Denki. "So do you like just sit out here?" "Well I come here to clear my head, peace and quiet, in a place like this is relaxing. Sometimes I'll even take a nap out here." Denki then started to play music, it was soft but had deep meaningful lyrics that even Shinsou could relate to. With closed eyes, Denki's palms faced upwards and hands relaxed. A soft grey hombre to a honey golden yellow blushed formed on Kaminari's face that twinkled with shining freckles that resembled stars. Shinsou couldn't help but love how cute the other looked while like this, so relaxed, and tranquil. The blush was deepening with each passing second, each deep breath caused the clouds in the sky to swirl. Shinsou decided to try this meditation out, he sat up straight in the same position as the witch next to him. As the song 'Talk me down' came on, Shinsou could feel his heart beat change to the beat of the song, it wasn't that he was focused on the lyrics though. It was the body's natural response, his deep breathes seemed to help. Shinsou could feel the tension and stress melt as he released a small amount of magical energy. Kaminari curiously opened his eyes and stifles a giggle when he sees Shinsou's palms softly glow purple and a few plants died but the sight of Shinsou's face made Kaminari yearn for more than their friendship. Soft pink lips that's seem to naturally purse out a little, each time the words 'talk me down' came on Shinsou would exhale after a deep inhale. Denki's magic causes a shadowy over cast and cumulonimbus clouds to form shading them and filling the air with a dewy feel Denki loves the smell of rain and he can smell it but he's not paying much attention to it. Then a rain drop? another rain drop? More and more come from from the sky and its starting out light until it begins to get heavy. Eyes shoot open, Shinou quickly gets up offering a hand to Denki, who apologizes "sorry got to relaxed" and gets with with Shinsou's aid. Denki holds the paler's boy's hand and they run to get inside but they're still getting soaked by the shower of the thunderheads that give a roar and a strike. Yanking open the door the two boys rush in with their clothes soaked, hair flattened by the down pour those in the lobby area stared. Hand in hand, Denki pushed back locks out his hair out of his face. "Aww what were you two love bird doing out in the rain? kissing~" She teased making Hitoshi blush "N-no just wanted to hang out with Shinsou." Someone decided to bud in "you wanted to hang out with a guy who raises the dead and destroys everything he touches? Well see ya at your funeral." "yeah who could actually love that guy?" More and more people piled on their input which seemed to only make Shinsou become closer an closer to crying. Denki grew annoyed, he stood on his toes and pulled the lavender haired one down and smashed their lips together. Shinsou tensed up at first but it was only seconds before he melted, leaning down to kiss back and bringing Denki closer. Holding him by his waist with one arm and the other hand combing through the thick drenched hair. As the kiss deepened the wider the jaws of their peers got as did their eyes but, the two were too busy making out to care. When they broke for air, a soft strand of saliva trailed as they looked warmly into each other's eyes panting. Coming back to reality Denki stuck up his middle finger to the other's "Well someone loves him, and its me bitches!" Mina was taking a video "Get it Kam Kam! get your man!" Then looking back into tired yet wide eyes Denki smiles enjoying the warm dazed smile on Hitoshi's face. Arms holding Denki close as they enjoyed the quiet moment. It was interrupted by a shiver from the short blond, Shinsou chuckles "Come on lets change out of these wet clothes, don't want you catching a cold." It was now Shinsou's turn to lead Denki up to their floor in the large dormitory. Dressed in warm clothes the two remained in Shinsou's room, laying on the duvet like sheets. Kaminari was laying in Shinsou's arms on his chest, listening to 'talk me down' again, Shinsou seemed to like this song. Humming along, with fingers intertwined Shinsou gave Denki's forehead a kiss. "that meditation thing...it helped...thanks Kaminari" Kaminari grinned and snuggled deeper into Shinsou's chest "I'm glad it did..I love you Shinsou." A small smile appeared on Shinsou's face at those words "I love you too Kaminari"

#Shinkami #weather witch Kaminari x Necromancer witch Shinsou #bnha witch AU #Buko no witchy Academia #kissing in the rain #boys kissing #fluff #fluffy shinkami

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bowieandqueen11 · 5 years ago

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Fall / Connor DBH Fluff

Request: I'd love something fluffy fall-related for reader and Connor? Doing things like pumping carving, raking leaves, making a scarecrow, going to an office party dressed up (something cute and ironic like Dorothy and Tin Man lol idk) just gimme the whole loving couple autumn package, please 🖤

This is so cute omg my poor heart <3

Autumn, although it had been a long time coming, had finally arrived. The leaves had changed colours, lining the trees with speckles of orange, red and yellow. When the wind blew they came down, breaking delicately off of tree branches and fluttering down to earth like a colourful rain. The air is as crisp and sweet as one of the apples in the orchards, trees lining warm fences and railings as the ground is wet underfoot. The clouds aren’t too threatening today, just a little grey, and the wind is starting to feel more like the blast you get from opening the refrigerator door.

The leaves detach from their autumnal boughs and fall to earth as gently as feathers. They have the rocking motion that such delicate things assume when they tumble through the breeze. Connor wears a smile that could light up the world as he runs underneath them, pushing a dazed you out of the way as he wraps his scarf tightly around himself, rubbing his gloves together as he breathes out a cold stream of fresh air, unable to stop the childishness that comes out of his systems as he runs around the grass, each vibrant hue making him feel more and more alive.

Having swept up the pile of brilliant yellow, bright orange and subtle red autumn leaves that litter the dewy ground, Connor winks cheerily at you, the bitter wind biting into his synthetic skin as he runs over to you and grasps your hands.

‘Y/N, you’re body temperature is below average, I’m afraid I’m going to have to administer a shock to get your heart pumping more blood to your limbs.’

Before you have time to register his words, he tumbles the two of you backwards, delight covering his features, leaping the two of you through the air until he lands in the leaves like an excited puppy, flowering leaves through the air and straight into your face with a dramatic thump as you land on his chest and roll off with a thud onto the cracking dirt. His head peeps out from the top of the pile, shock evident on his features as fumbles to find you, his fingers finding fumbling onto your arm as he pulls you up into his chest.

As your cheek smushes against his jacket, your fingers digging into the muscles of his arms as he decides the best course of action is to just stay silent for a moment, he allows his shoulders to relax when he feels you giggle against his chest. He feels something warm and tingly pump through his systems, a fuzzy, pinny feeling fuzzing the circuits in his head as he leans down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead, before pulling the two of you back down into the pile and away from the eyes of passerbys on the pavement.

A lot of people had already showed up to the police station as witches, zombies, the odd few vampires, hell, even Hank had been pestered by Connor to stick a sheet over his head and call himself a ghost, but the two of you, the two of you had won the dress up competition before you’d even entered the neon flashing lights of the office.

Standing by the food table, Connor creaking his elbow down to ladle you some punch Hank had managed to stir some Vodka into, you reaching up to save his hat from falling into a small bowl of jello, Connor is too preoccupied with his mission of making sure you stay hydrated to notice Hank stumbling over to you, his feet tripping over the edge of the sheet with pulls out with mumbled swear.

‘And what, in the hell, are the two of you supposed to be?’

‘We’re Dorothy and the Tin Man! Get it!’

‘Yes, Y/n convinced me this is what humans call, a cute couple costume, considering I am an android and she is-’

‘Yeah, yeah, Jesus kid I get it. A bit on the nose, don’t you think?’

Connor only blinked at Hank, his LED whirring yellow as he lightly smirked, his silver shirt reflecting the disco ball that hangs precariously from the ceiling, the grey paint on his face making him look even more adorable than usual.

‘Well, Y/n thought I looked sexy.’

‘Connor!’

Pumpkin carving, at the start, would be quite an ordeal. Connor couldn’t help himself, as soon as the two of you carved open the top, he had his fingers in immediately, raising two to his mouth and licking them with a confused expression, his other hand unable to stop touching the orange ball.

‘Y/n, why do you carve these things?’

‘For fun Connor. Now shush and pick up the knife.’

He would make several mathematical equations in his head before he started carving. He didn’t understand the patterns: why some appear shocked, why others are carved into cute bunny rabbits or puppy dogs. He only knows they glow in the Halloween night as greetings to the costumed children who skitter from house to house to rap on the door searching for candy, and they mean something special to you.

He had been so nervous when he opened the door, a few red leaves floating down onto his face and splatting him against the mouth as soon as he tries to stutter out an anxious ‘hi’, bless him.

His hands would constantly brush over your fingers, crinkling the newspaper covering the table, pretending you don’t notice the rising blush that covers his face as he smiles goofily, unable to make eye contact with you. Throwing strewing seeds lightly at his head, you constantly try to break Connor out of his daydream as he stares at you with a far away look, chopping away at his pumpkin and nearly nicking his finger in the process. Stepping back to admire his handiwork after placing a small tealight into the hollowed centre, Connor you to switch off the light. When the lights are off, Connor bites his lip lightly, turning the pumpkin around to face you after you ask him what he designed on it.

You can see the slight self-consciousness in his eyes, but your smile convinced him to show his pumpkin every time. This year, Connor was especially nervous, shaking like a leaf as he swung the pumpkin around towards you, dipping his eyes to the floor as your eyes scan over the words.

Will you marry me?

‘Hank told me... this would be a cute way to ask, as every time I go to my sound systems malfunction and it feels like my systems are overheating.’

Time stopped as you took in the words he craved onto his pumpkin, finding yourself collapsing into your chair in shock. After a long moment, Connor stepped next to you, watching you worriedly.

‘Y/n, are you in shock? Shall I call you an ambulance? I’m sorry, this is not the desired effect I wished-’

‘No, no, you dumbass, I’m happy, I’m so happy, I just-’

‘Say yes.’

‘What?’

‘Please-say yes.’

‘You’re so clueless, Connor. It’s yes, it’s always been yes.’

He laughed in relief as you both shared another kiss. When you both finally came up for air, Connor slipped the ring box out of his pocket to take out the ring and slip it onto your waiting finger.

#dbh #connor dbh #bryan dechart #connor detroit become human #connor detroit: bh #connor detroit imagine #connor detroit become human imagine #connor dbh imagine #connor dbh fluff #connor dbh x reader #connor detroit #connor detroit game #connor detroit fluff #connor detroit x reader #dbh imagine #dbh x reader #dbh fluff #bryan dechart imagine

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patricianandclerk · 5 years ago

Text

Our Own Eden

"A cottage?” Aziraphale asked softly. “Really?”

“Really, really,” Crowley said, shifting his grip on the wheel and giving Aziraphale a smile. “It’s bought and paid for, I have a catalogue for you to pick out furniture... And you know what, angel? You know what the best part is?”

“What’s that, dear?”

“Middle of nowhere. Five miles of disused farmland on all sides.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, and then he shifted in his seat, turning to face forward. His cheeks flushed brightly pink, and the car smelt of fresh flowers and new grass. “Oh.”

The problem with being an ethereal being (or an occult one, take your pick) is that one doesn’t really fit in a corporeal body. This manifests in different ways. For angels and demons, they often burst out of the physical bodies they’re allotted by their departments: gold flakes shine from beneath the skin, or scales burst through where flesh should be; creeping, crawling things slip out from ears and nostrils, or you exude such a delightful cloud of fresh lavender that every allergen-sensitive human within half a mile of you bursts out into hives and anaphylaxis.

For Crowley, a lot of his inhumanity was inhuman - he had a funny, snakey spine, a long tongue, yellow eyes, scaley feet. For Aziraphale... Well, he looked normal. He looked very normal indeed, aggressively normal, actually. It was his presence that was the funny thing. It was probably the garden that had done it - Eden, all that time ago.

The last time Crowley had held his hand, flowers had bloomed in their wake as they’d walked through St James’ Park. When Crowley last kissed him at the Ritz, the vase of three roses on their table had shattered when the pretty blooms laid down their roots and formed a bush. And when Crowley, on a picnic, had suggestively slid his hand over Aziraphale’s thigh...

Well.

He’d had to miracle up a machete to hack their way out of the six-foot tall wheat sheafs that had sprung up on every side of them.

But this time? This time, Crowley was ready. He’d bought the cottage. He’d planted the seeds. He’d set out his greenhouse, and he’d planted the young trees. For the past few weeks, he’d been hard at work, sprinkling wildflower seeds and fruit seeds and vegetable seeds, all around...

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale murmured, and he leaned his head against Crowley, letting Crowley wrap his arm around the angel. The lavender-scented air freshener became much more lavender-shaped, and grew two leaves. “You’re going to deflower me.”

“Angel,” Crowley murmured, “I am going to do anything but.”

Aziraphale watched, fidgeting, as Crowley laid out a picnic blanket. From the car, then, he set out some thick pillows for Aziraphale to lay back on, some more blankets, in case they got cold, some wine, a picnic basket… He wished he could control it. It would get easier, he supposed, but when Crowley touched him his whole spirit seemed to thrum to meet him, and instead of meeting Crowley, it met— Well, everything else. It was so embarrassing…

“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly, and he could scarcely help the way his heart swelled, how warm he felt, the anticipation tingling beneath his skin. He wanted, oh, how he wanted. He had wanted Crowley since the Beginning, but this want, this was new, edged with a sharp set of corners, for Crowley to touch him, hold him, devour him… Crowley grinned up at Aziraphale, and then he knelt on the blanket, gesturing for Aziraphale to come forward.

Aziraphale knelt down. He could have—

He could be more involved. He could reach for Crowley’s clothes as much as Crowley was reaching for his, could kiss him, could perhaps even pin Crowley beneath him – his skin thrilled at the thought – but it was… Difficult. He felt nervous. It was— It was always so much easier, when he let Crowley take control, let Crowley be in charge.

Later. There’d be time, later, for Aziraphale to initiate things, for him to drive, but for now—

Crowley kissed him, and Aziraphale sighed into his mouth, his hands trembling before they alighted gently on Crowley’s skinny hips. Crowley’s mouth was warm and soft, his lips smacking quietly against Aziraphale’s own, and then he tilted Aziraphale’s head back and let his tongue slide against Aziraphale’s, and Aziraphale yelped. He knew it was happening, knew, but he just couldn’t bear to stop, not when Crowley’s lips yielded so perfectly before his own, drawing Aziraphale closer to him, drawing closer, in turn, to Aziraphale.

“What sort of effort should I— should I make?” Aziraphale asked against Crowley’s mouth as they broke apart, and Crowley chuckled, setting his sunglasses aside.

“Well, what effort do you want to make, angel? Penis? Vagina? Cloaca?”

“What’s a— A what?”

Crowley laughed, and he kissed the side of Aziraphale’s neck: for a few moments, Aziraphale’s mind was a hot, white blank. He heard, at the edge of his focus, the rubbery, shooting sound of a sapling coming out of the ground far faster than it ought.

“Why don’t we try one first, and then the other?” Crowley asked, his breath hot in Aziraphale’s ear, and Aziraphale shuddered.

“What do you have?”

“Right now? A penis. Hand-crafted, sixteenth-century, gothic arches, one owner from new.”

“You’re not funny, Crowley.”

“Aren’t I?” Crowley’s fingers brushed against the side of Aziraphale’s jaw, and Aziraphale looked past him at the grass around them. It was definitely looking… Colourful. Flowers had burst up from the ground in a circle around them, and near them, a young apple tree had sprung up where there’d been no tree before. “Why don’t you start you off with a cunt, Aziraphale? I watch you eat all the time – you can watch me.”

“Oh…” Aziraphale said, and Crowley smiled at him. He radiated such confidence, and yet Aziraphale could feel his heart thumping out a samba beneath his handsome black shirt, and he didn’t miss the way Crowley’s hands trembled as they began to unbutton Aziraphale’s clothes. He was awfully, mercilessly slow about it, gently caressing every line of Aziraphale’s skin as he pushed off his suit jacket, his waistcoat, his blouse, his undershirt, his trousers, his fucking spats…

Aziraphale shivered as Crowley unclothed him entirely, left his clothes neatly folded on a conjured chair beneath the growing shade of the apple tree, and pushed Aziraphale gently onto his back, reclining on all the pillows.

“You know how long I’ve wanted this, angel?” Crowley asked, pressing kisses down Aziraphale’s chest. “You know how long I’ve wanted you spread out beneath me? Like a feast…” He bit at Aziraphale’s belly, nipping at the soft skin, and Aziraphale gasped, his legs falling open entirely without meaning to. “Oh, smell that…” Crowley’s pupils dilated quite visibly, thickening until they were almost like discs, and his tongue, forked at its end and most dextrous, slipped out of his mouth and tasted the air. “You know what that is, angel?”

“Mm-mm,” Aziraphale hummed his negative, scarcely trusting his mouth to make proper words, and Crowley’s lips shifted into a dastardly smirk.

“That’s you, angel. Getting wet and dewy for me, aren’t you?”

“Oh— Oh, Crowley—”

“That’sss it, angel,” Crowley hissed, pressing his fingers into Aziraphale’s thighs and grabbing at him, squeezing the flesh there. “Want the big, bad demon to fuck you in the dirt?”

“I want him to make love to me,” Aziraphale said breathlessly, “in a meadow of our own making. Our own Eden, Crowley, that’s all I ever wanted—”

“Bless, angel,” Crowley swore, and cupped his cheeks to kiss him again. He was hot between Aziraphale’s legs, and Aziraphale could scarcely bear the hot tingling on his skin, that ran between his thighs like water, the flesh hot and aching. He could feel Crowley between his legs, not coming close enough to brush against him, and oh, oh, Aziraphale felt—

Empty. Not in an obvious way, but he could feel himself open, feel the wetness of his own flesh, feel a place where Crowley could slip in, closer, closer—

Crowley dragged away, kissing and biting down the spread of Aziraphale’s chest, and then he slipped between Aziraphale’s legs and licked him, and Aziraphale’s cry echoed over their garden, making bulbs and seeds burst out of their casements and rush up to brush the sky.

Aziraphale tasted a thousand times better than Heaven ever could, and Crowley wound his arms around the angel’s thighs, putting himself to his task with enthusiasm and noise. He swept his tongue sloppily either side of Aziraphale’s outer lips, feeling the pink flesh twitch and jump under his mouth, and Aziraphale was making so much noise that he thrilled – and this was just the start! He hadn’t even started properly yet, and Aziraphale was gasping, choking…

Crowley closed his mouth around Aziraphale’s clit and sucked, delighting in the way the angel arched right off the blanket, and he inhaled, took in the scent of Aziraphale (ozone and wing oil and fresh tea and books and want and velvet and clotted cream) and the scent of the garden around them (lavender and bedelias and lilies and poppies and daisies and new grass and new everything) mingling together.

“Good effort, angel,” Crowley said, putting his hands either side and playing gently over the outer parts of him, massaging either side of his cunt and feeling him, watching the way a little attention on his outer lips made his inner ones twitch and jump. Aziraphale was dusted with white-blond hair here, too, neatly trimmed.

Crowley squeezed, just slightly, and he watched Aziraphale sigh, his head tipping back.

“Oh,” he said blissfully, slurring his words just slightly, “your tongue, Crowley…”

“My tongue?” Crowley asked, playing his wet thumb over Aziraphale’s clit and watching it jump, watching his muscles clench around bare air. “What about it, sweetheart?”

“I should like to sample more of it,” Aziraphale mumbled. “If you please.”

“Oh, and I do please, angel,” Crowley said, and dipped his head down again, pressing sloppy kisses around Aziraphale’s cunt, delighting in the way his thighs twitched and spasmed, spreading even further apart, and then Crowley slid his tongue in.

The apple tree beside them shot upward, throwing out its branches, and Crowley could feel the sharp, sudden movement of plants growing at maddening paces on every side, could feel the ground shifting and quaking beneath them as it was disturbed by sprawling roots, and he closed his eyes, fucking Aziraphale with his tongue.

He took it slowly.

No harm in drawing it out a bit – not teasing, not being too cruel to his angel, not bringing him to the edge and then grabbing him back, but just letting him inch closer, little by little… It was wonderful, seeing the tension coiling in Aziraphale’s thighs, seeing them get tenser and tenser, feeing him coil up so tight, and this cunt—

“Might not let you have a cock, angel,” Crowley murmured, pressing his face right up against Aziraphale and not caring of the wetness on his chin, on his cheeks. “This is just too perfect.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said urgently, and one of his hands, which had been tightened in the blanket, came to grab at his hair instead. “Oh, Crowley, please, I do— What’s it like?”

“What’s it like?” Crowley asked, and interrupted himself to suck Aziraphale’s clit again, sliding two fingers into him and pressing down just a little bit, just to give him a taste of what it would feel like, when Crowley slid inside him. And Crowley… He was excited. He’d tried sex, a little, right at the Beginning, with other demons down in the Pit, but he’d never really kept up with it, never been interested like they were, and this was Aziraphale, this was him— “Mmm, it’s like— It’s like you’re a bowstring, angel, drawn tighter and tighter, and when you get to the edge, it’s like the bowstring’s let loose.”

Aziraphale moaned, and Crowley suckled at him messily, laving his tongue around Aziraphale’s clit and feeling the tension build up on the air, felt Aziraphale’s want fill the atmosphere with desperate tension. He was hot now, too, and he was hard in his trousers, hard, and desperate, but he wanted to see Aziraphale come first, just once—

There were flowers on every side, now, every flower under the sun, and more than that were the plants: thousands of bulbs had given way to bushes and shrubs, roots and tubers, hedges, vines, and the trees…

Crowley sucked, crooking his fingers up, and the noise Aziraphale made—

It was ecstasy, just hearing it, a choked up, hoarse moan that came from low in Aziraphale’s throat and echoed over the fields they were slap-bang in the middle of. Crowley heard a smash as one of the panes in his greenhouse shattered, an olive tree forcing its way up through the glass, and the earth shook, flowers blooming and shooting up on every side.

He could barely hold himself back, letting Aziraphale ride it through, sobbing, gasping in his wonderful, wonderful noises as Crowley mouthed at his clit; Crowley was unbuttoning his trousers even as he took him through it.

“Oh,” Aziraphale said, breathless, “oh, Crowley—”

“I need to,” Crowley moaned against his thigh, “I need to, angel, can I, can I…?”

“Please—”

Crowley scrambled on top of Aziraphale, feeling the way Aziraphale grabbed clumsily at him, his fingers weak, his body loose and easy, lining himself up and sliding in. Aziraphale was hot and wet on every side, and as Crowley choked out a desperate, yowling moan against Aziraphale’s neck, smearing the skin with the wetness still lingering to his chin, the heavens opened, and the skies thundered as water poured down in steel sheets.

“Oh,” Aziraphale moaned as Crowley thrust within him, wrapping his arms around the demon to pull him closer, and he felt the air grow a little cooler as rain came down heavy and hard, but they were under a natural umbrella, now: the apple tree had sprawled into a great canopy over their heads, its boughs thick and heavy, as if it had been there a hundred years already. “Oh, Crow— Crowley, that storm— it isn’t m— me, oh—”

“No, angel, sss’me, can’t help it, you’re so perfect,” Crowley all but growled, dragging his teeth down the side of Aziraphale’s neck, and Aziraphale sobbed out a noise, wrapping his legs more tightly around Crowley’s, trying to pull him in closer. “Feel good? Not hurting you?”

“It’s splendid,” Aziraphale assured him, and unheeding of the mess, pulled Crowley to kiss him again, tasting himself on Crowley’s infernal tongue. It was exquisite, too, the sensation of him: Crowley’s prick within him, the hot pulse of him, so hot and flush, a wonderful filling…

And when Crowley came, the hot spatter of it, the way his whole body drew up so deliciously tightly—

They were both breathing heavily, although strictly, they didn’t need to.

“You want me to get you off again?” Crowley asked, and the way he was lying on Aziraphale’s body, sprawled over him, so relaxed— It was quite nice. Heavy, but warm, like a weighted blanket.

“I think— I think one was alright for now,” Aziraphale mumbled, feeling the burn of his skin all over, so pink and flush as he was, and Crowley pulled back. The sensation when he slipped out was— Well, frankly, rather odd, and he certainly felt the loss of him.

“Well, look upon your work, Aziraphale,” Crowley said smugly, kneeling between Aziraphale’s legs and absently massaging Aziraphale’s trembling thighs. “Do you see that it is good?”

“I hardly think there’s any call for that sort of irony,” Aziraphale muttered, but he let Crowley pull him to sit up, looking out over the sprawling garden. When they’d started, it had been flat, green plains on all sides, but for the hedgerows, and now…

The grass was a few feet high in patches, and all manner of flowers bloomed in a technicolour carpet of wondrous petals; an orchard had sprung up, too, and Aziraphale saw that the trees were weighted down with oranges, lemons, pomegranates, pears, currants, figs… Bushes, too, with blackberries and blueberries, with gooseberries, and oh, pineapples, and then, more than that, were the vines and crawling plants… Crowley’s poor greenhouse had lost a few panes to an olive tree that was most unusually tall, and the cottage, which had been painted in a neat white-wash, was now covered over in green ivy and pink rambling roses.

Above them, its leaves still dripping with the rain that had stopped as suddenly as it had started, was the apple tree, and just above them, red as rubies and hanging tantalisingly close to where they lay down together, was an apple.

Crowley reached up, lazily, and it dropped into its waiting palm.

Aziraphale looked down at it, seeing the way it shone in the summer light, its crisp, burnished skin, and he could smell it, too, perfectly ripe…

“Our own Eden, you said,” Crowley murmured, and Aziraphale looked at him, at his yellow eyes, his smirking lips. “Want a bite?”

“Tempter,” Aziraphale murmured, still feeling dazed and bleary. “Yes, please.”

And Crowley gave it to him.

---

Very much inspired by Lie Back And Think Of Dinner by jessthereckless!

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

#as defined by dictionary #crowley #aziraphale #good omens #fanfic

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worryinglyinnocent · 5 years ago

Text

Fic: Unlit

Summary: Follow-up to Unchanged. A few months after their hunt together, Gold and Belle meet (almost) by chance again, and take advantage of the darkness.

Written for the @a-monthly-rumbelling prompt: Bumping into each other - literally.

Please note: This was written for the non-smut prompt but does contain smut.

CW: Vampires

Rated: E

=====

Unlit

Gold had always preferred to stick to cities throughout his long life. There were so many more people there that it was easier to blend in, and they made for easier hunting grounds. There was always fresh blood in a city, and no one would notice one person missing. Out in the countryside it was harder to go unnoticed, and harder to cover his tracks.

All the same, he had been born in the country and he had spent most of his mortal life there. He missed the green sometimes, and it was for that reason that he would occasionally indulge himself with a hunt in a park. Cities generally did well at maintaining their green spaces, a little patch of nature in the middle of the concrete jungle, although what good it did to counteract the fog of fumes from the traffic that could still be heard beyond the trees was debatable.

He had lived in many places and he had hunted in many parks, but he always came back to London. Hyde Park was a particular favourite of his, and he had enjoyed many a playful night here. Tonight was no exception. Everyone should be wary of walking in parks alone in the dead of night. The ones who weren’t, the ones stumbling home through the darkness as a short cut rather than sticking to the safer lit pavements, well, they were easy prey.

He watched the man from the shadows as he swayed his way across the grass. Gold had caught the scent a few minutes ago and he was most definitely on the hunt now, moving silently in time with his prey’s lurches. Perhaps he wouldn’t kill this one; he’d fed recently and wouldn’t need to drain him dry. If the subject in question woke up under a bush feeling weak with a scratch on his neck, well, he could just put it down to the amount he’d had to drink the night before.

Gold was so intent in his pursuit that he didn’t notice the figure moving towards him at speed before it was too late and they collided.

“Sorry,” he said, but they were gone, running off into the darkness. Yes, running was definitely the way to get through the parks at night when the vampires were on the hunt…

Gold paused, his own quarry completely forgotten, because the figure who had knocked him had been going just a tad too quickly for a normal human, and they had definitely come out of nowhere.

He stopped and sniffed the air, recognising the trace of scent.

Belle.

He could always recognise her, and tonight was no different. Her scent was as intoxicating as it always was, and Gold wondered if she did that on purpose somehow.

The drunk man continued to stumble on home, no longer in any danger, as Gold spun on his heel and began to run after Belle. Why was she running? Was she in some kind of trouble, or was she on the hunt like he was? Or was she maybe just playing a little game with him? She could recognise him just as easily as he could recognise her, and he had been distracted with his prey, after all.

When he caught up to her, it was clear that she was in no danger herself. There was a wicked grin on her face as she leaned casually back against the tree.

“Well, fancy meeting you here,” she purred. “I’m disappointed, Gold. You didn’t even notice me. I had to resort to drastic measures.”

“Indeed. But I noticed you in the end, and here I am.”

“Yes, you are.” She reached out, dancing her fingers up his chest and hooking them into the knot of his tie, pulling him in closer. He could feel the wonderful chill emanating from her skin and shivered with anticipation.

“What brings you to London?” he asked. “You normally make your home across the Atlantic.”

Belle shrugged. “I fancied a change. Wondered if I might bump into an old friend who could help me out.”

“Are you in trouble, Belle?” Gold chuckled. “My my. It’s normally the young one who has to seek out their sire for help, not the other way around.”

“Oh, isn’t it just.” She smirked, and Gold knew that she was thinking about the many occasions when he’d had to call on her for assistance. “It’s not trouble, so much. Just an itch that needs scratching, one I can’t reach by myself.”

“You came all the way to London for that?”

“Why not? We have such long lives, Gold. Why not fill them with spontaneous adventure?”

Gold could certainly get behind that way of thinking.

“So,” he began, walking her back towards the tree again and pinning her there. “Where’s this itch that you’re so desperate for me to scratch?”

Belle unfastened the buttons of her coat, slipping it off her shoulders to reveal nothing beneath but pale skin and sheer black stockings.

“Here.” She pointed between her legs to the neat little patch of curls. “I was hoping that you might be able to kiss it better.”

Gold grinned. “I think I might be able to oblige, yes. But a deal must always be struck, after all. What would I get in return?”

“Oh, I think you know.” Belle reached down to palm his crotch, where his cock was already beginning to stir with the sight of her. “I think we can come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Certainly, my lady.”

He wasted no time, going down on his knees and parting her legs, licking a long stripe up her cleft. He could taste her juices, sweet and icy cold, and he lapped at her eagerly. No matter how many women he’d bedded, both mortal and immortal, nothing would ever compare to Belle’s deliciousness.

He swirled his tongue around her swollen pearl, nosing into her soft hair with a grunt of satisfaction before pushing a finger up inside her. She was always ready for him, always tight and slick and clutching at him like she was desperate for more. That was one of the wonders of their relationship. They met so infrequently and coupled less frequently still, but when an unexpected pleasure like this occurred, they were never left wanting.

Belle hiked her leg up over his shoulder, the heel of her shoe pressing hard into his back as her hands curled into his hair, pulling tight to the point of pain, but not a bad pain, just the kind of sharpness that made everything more intense.

He glanced up at her, at her body resplendent like alabaster in the moonlight, almost glowing in its perfection. She was a creature of the night, they both were, and he could not remember a time when they had fucked in a bed like any normal couple. They were always under the stars, as nature intended them, bathing in the darkness and night.

Then Belle pushed her hips forward, sending a waft of her intoxicating scent into his nose and reminding him of the task at hand. He pressed a second finger up into her channel and curled them both, stroking at the sweet spot deep inside her and relishing the grunts and moans she gave, not caring for the stiletto at his back or her nails against his scalp. He was alternately long drags of his tongue over her clit with sharp little prods with the very tip, something that she’d taught him so many decades ago and that would never fail to make her melt.

He had to thank Belle for so much of his sexual knowledge, the things that had made other women compare him to God on high. That was all Belle’s doing, determined that should their intermittent relationship continue, then she would have her perfect satisfaction from it.

Her juices were dripping down his hand now, he could hear the cleaving as he pumped his fingers in and out of her, grazing the soft spot with every stroke and making her gasp. For all the long gaps between their matings, he always remembered her tells, and he pulled his fingers out as she came, a flood of cold liquid squirting out of her. He drank her down eagerly; she was always as refreshing as his normal fare was.

“You know,” Belle panted, slipping her leg down off his shoulder as he licked up the drips from her thighs, “there’s really no one quite as beautifully skilled with their tongue as you, my dearest Gold.”

He smirked up at her, rolling his neck as she unwound her fingers from his hair and released him. “I’m very glad to hear it. Now, I do believe that a deal was struck.”

Belle gave him her sweetest smile and ran her hands down her body, caressing her smooth skin, cupping her breasts and pinching her dark, tight nipples.

“How do you want me, lover mine?”

Gold sat back on his haunches to undo his belt and fly, taking out his aching cock and pumping himself a couple of times to ease the pressure. Although this was not one of their long and languorous sessions, just an itch to scratch, he still wanted to make it last. He beckoned to Belle and she sank onto her knees in front of him, letting him push her down onto the dewy grass and slip both her legs over his shoulders as he lined up and thrust home to the hilt, as deep as she could take him. She was so wet from her own orgasm that he moved in her easily, every roll of his hips feeling like heaven as her walls clutched and fluttered around him, almost willing him even deeper into her wonderful inner ice. Her heels were digging into his back again, and he revelled in the momentary scratch, lowering his mouth to her breast and sucking one nipple into his mouth. He was salivating, fangs ready to drop, but they never bit their own kind, even in the heat of the moment.

He came hard inside her, swearing violently with the force of the exquisite release. Belle could only smile her sultry smile as he pushed her legs back down and rolled off her. She let her legs loll apart, touching herself lazily as they lay in the darkness. Even the moon had hidden behind the clouds now, blushing at their antics, and Gold chuckled at the notion.

“This was certainly an unexpected pleasure, Belle.”

“It was, wasn’t it? Here’s to many more of them in the centuries to come.”

They would move at some point. They did not sleep, so there would be no soft cuddling and slumber. There never was, it was not part of their relationship, based on lust and blood and darkness as it was. Gold did not desire it. He was perfectly happy as he was, cold under the stars and content in the knowledge that he and Belle would always find their way back to each other to scratch their very particular itches.

#rumbelle fic #A Monthly Rumbelling #rumbelle #Belle French #Mr Gold #vampires #vampire cw #Fic: Unlit #Fic: Unchanged

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rovvboat · 6 years ago

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The Carnival’s In Town - Cable/Nathan Summers x Reader

Prompts: ‘‘You make me feel alive’’ // ‘’Don’t sell yourself short.’’ // ‘’You were always gold to me.’’

word count: 3.2k (i dont know how,,,,,,,,, :’’))

A/N: Probably not what you think it is :P Requested by the amazing @marvel-forever-17 !! Hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! <3 <3 <3 <3

Warnings: a teeny tiny bit of angst :’’’) but a whooooooole lot of fluff aslkjlksjfklsdf

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‘’Can we PLEASE go?’’

You tugged Nathan’s hand towards the poster – flapping carelessly in the dry, hot summer breeze, kept in place only by one poorly hammered nail on its’ top edge. The poster’s clipart of a shiny Ferris wheel in the background had caught your eye; glinting under the bright sunlight as the poster pulsated against the wind.

You thought some fresh air out of the mansion would do you both some good – and you were right. The light breeze, the sunlight warm against the surface of your skin – all the right ingredients for a nice walk – as you trod along the garden with your boyfriend next to you – barefoot on the soft grass – toes wide and exploring, as you gently wade through the blades; just to get a feel of the Earth beneath you.

Nathan hadn’t rejected your offer of taking off your shoes – which was a huge surprise on its’ own, and here you were – hand in hand, feet free and roaming, now looking at the carnival poster.

‘’What? Aren’t you too old for this?’’ He asks incredulously, taking a look at the poster then back at you.

‘’No one’s too old for the carnival, Nate!’’ You argue, eyes wide and hopeful. You bring up his hand, big and relenting, to your chin, clasping it between your two hands. ‘’Pleeeease? It’s been so long! I promise I’ll win something for you!’’

You give him your biggest puppy-dog eyes, as Nathan watches your pleas – like a parent would a child – head tilted, face set into a soft, thin-lipped ‘’do we really have to?’’, followed by a few moments of deliberation. When he finally closes his eyes, he lets out a deep breath of surrender –

and there it was.

You let out a victorious squeal, and launch yourself at him into a hug, and Nathan only chuckles at your child-like enthusiasm – his eyes smile and crinkle up in the way they do when you know he’s truly happy and most comfortable; his usual taut and rough demeanor nowhere to be seen.

‘’I better get the biggest prize in there, Puddin’. Else, you got a pretty big price to pay.’’ He raises his brow at you, lips pulled into a smirk – which you end up mirroring back to him.

You salaciously walk two fingers from his stomach and up to his chest, getting your face in real close as you do. You lower your voice into a seductive whisper, ending the last syllable inches away from his ear – ‘’Well, experience tells me that I’m well-equipped for that.’’

Nathan feels his heart rate rise tenfold with every move of your fingers, and when you finally opened your mouth, the words seemed to burst an electric socket in his stomach – the heat moving up to his cheeks.

But Nathan wasn’t one to be teased.

Not without repercussions.

He tilts his head close to yours, a smug arrogance flashing in his eyes as he brings up a hand to your face, placed right under your chin, his thumb slowly running over the edges of your lips – his touch just light enough to make it seem like a million sparks on the most sensitive parts. ‘’Oh yeah, Doll?’’ His voice gravelly against your ears, a strong feeling lifts with desire in your chest; as his other hand has somehow found its place on your waist. ‘’You really wanna test that out again?’’

Your smile widens, eyes narrowing as you push him and his advances away; A hearty laugh escaping you, as he grabs you from behind, lifting you up into the air. ‘’Oh, you think you could get away that easy?’’ His fingers skillfully make contact with the one place of your weakness, and within seconds you’re wheezing and squirming as Nathan tickles you into oblivion – no signs of stopping anytime soon.

‘’Oh God, Nate! Stop– No!’’ You try grabbing for his hands, but he maneuvers over them like a pro.

‘’Should’ve paid more attention when you were sparring with me, huh baby?’’ He razzes around you, his fingers dancing across your most touchy spots, mapped out in his head and hands like his childhood home.

‘’OKAY! OKAY! I GIVE! YOU WIN!’’ You heave and laugh, and when he doesn’t let go, you bring out your secret weapon.

Digging your heels into the ground, you lift yourself off and crash against Nathan, who’s caught off-guard and loses his footing – and you both go down, falling onto the soft, still dewy grass with a graceful thud.

As you come to nice position over Nathan, straddling over his waist – pinning him down by his wrists – you let your face hover over his.

‘’Truce?’’ Nathan offers, his lips twisting into a yielding smile.

‘’Oh, not that easy, big guy.’’ You lower yourself closer to him, noses brushing for a second, before your lips meet in succession; gentle puckering and pushing of soft skin – somehow cool even under the increasingly sweltering heat – that was meant for kisses like these.

You pull away as you feel yourself getting breathless, catching a breath before breaking the silence with a smirk and a statement.

‘’Now we’re even.’’

You roll over in your nice cozy bed, the soft wool wrapped snug around you, as Nathan’s arm holds you close by your stomach – his chest sidled up, warm and secure, against your back; the slight rise and fall now coming more into focus, as your eyes blink open.

You look straight into the digital clock on your bedside table, and a surge of excitement jumpstarts your muscles. You flip over again to wake Nathan up in the wee hours of the morning, ever so determined to beat the crowds and the heat that was always inevitable at carnivals.

‘’Nate.’’ You nudge him gently and whisper, so as to not startle him awake. ‘’Babe, wake up. It’s time to go.’’

He takes a deep breath as one eye opens, the other still squished against the pillow. He sleepily groans as he stretches out his arms in front of him – twisting a little to the side – before squeezing you back into his arms, pulling you back onto the bed as his eyes go back to being shut.

‘’Nathan, wake up already!’’ You whine as you wriggle out of his grip. You grab your pillow and throw it at him -- and he lets out another groan.

‘’C’mon we gotta go!’’ You brush past him from the shower as he lazily brushes his teeth at the sink. He spits out the foamed toothpaste – ‘’Babe, it’s still 6am. I’m sure we have plenty of time to get there and go on all the rides.’’ – He grabs a mouthful of water before gargling and spitting out the residue, and as you watch him through the doorway – dressed in his boxers still, the tired still not completely gone from his eyes – the biggest sense of gratitude washes over you.

Who on God’s green Earth would wake up at 6 in the fucking A.M. to get ready to go to a carnival at the will of their partner?

Nathan fuckin’ Summers, that’s who.

You stride over to him as he looks over, drying his mouth against one of his face towels – eyes expectantly waiting for you speak.

You tiptoe against the cool tiles of the bathroom, placing a smacking kiss on the side of his cheek, your hand pushing him into the kiss from his other cheek – the stubble would normally deter you from that particular action, but today felt like a good exception.

Nathan has his brows raised, ‘’And that was for?’’

‘’Take a guess, sherlock.’’

‘’I thought you said you wouldn’t kiss my cheek until I shaved – and I quote – ’that God-forsaken cactus face of yours’.’’ He enquires.

‘’Today’s an exception, and there’s more where that came from.’’ You wink as you get back to the wardrobe to get changed.

Nathan watches you sift through the wardrobe, and when you find your underwear and bra, you toss the towel onto the bed, leaving his hungry eyes on your body for the taking – as you quickly put one foot after another, sliding your soft cotton panties up the length of your legs.

You could practically feel Nathan’s gaze bearing over you – and you turn your head to him, signaling to him with a few deliberate clicks of your fingers.

‘’Better get to showering, old man. We’re burning daylight!’’

Nathan scoffs, nudging the door close with his leg – though not completely closed as the door comes to a slight squeaking stop as the latch bolt hits the frame. A nifty little convenience trick – who needs bathroom locks whilst showering if you both always make room for ways to join each other?

You smile at the little force of habit that’s become ingrained to muscle memory – when Nathan’s exaggerated voice echoes from the bathroom.

‘’See, now I’ve got to take a cold shower because of you.’’

You pull on your jeans and put on your T-shirt, before walking by the bathroom door, and push the door to let you a small opening –

‘’Thank you for your sacrifice!’’

Nathan huffs a laugh against the spraying showerhead, and within a few minutes, he’s out and dressed and waiting by the door. It was a wonder how he could do that – wake up 5 minutes before leaving and still be ready before anyone else – ‘’It’s called being prepared, darlin’. I could teach you a thing or two about that.’’ He’d quote whenever you’d ask how the fuck he got ready so quickly.

As you walk down the steps of the mansion – quietly so as to not disturb the others – you hear a familiar voice from the top of the steps – ‘’Where are you little love birds off to? Finally eloping form this place I see. Well don’t worry, I’ll keep my mouth shut–‘’ Wade jumps off the banister and onto the first floor with a thud, and a cracking sound of his knees– ‘’if you tell me where you’re going. Fuck that always hurts’’ He ends his spiel as he goes to smooth out his legs.

‘’We’re headed for the carnival!’’

‘’WHAT?! It’s still fucking dark out! What are you gonna ride there? Mr. FullMetal Dick in the middle of the fairgrounds?’’

You laugh at Wade’s reaction – ‘’Relax you whiny pop tart, we’re just heading there first to get a good feel of the place. We’ll meet you there!’’

‘’What’s all this noise about? It’s too early in the morning.’’ A disgruntled NTW walks out of her room, second from the top of the stairs. ‘’What are you guys doing up so early?’’

‘’Sorry for waking you Ellie! We were just headed for the carnival and – ‘’

You stop when you hear an annoyed grunt coming from your side. ‘’Look kids, Me and Y/N are gonna head out first. I’ve only got room for 2 on my ride – so if you really wanna join us, you’re gonna have to get a ride from our ridesharing friend, Dopinder.’’

As he finishes his matter-of-fact speech, he lifts you off your feet– ‘’Nate, what are you–‘’ and carries you over his shoulder.

‘’If you will excuse me, I’ve got my lady to please.’’

Your body goes limp against him, as he walks out the door and over to the garage, where he has his bike parked. ‘’Adios amigos! See you at the carnival!’’ you wave as NTW waves back and closes the front door.

Your arms tighten around Nathan's thick, strong waist – your body sidling up against the leather jacket on his back, as he revvs the engine of his bike. His head turns to side, and he speaks up.

"Ready, doll?"

"You know it, Summers."

He revvs the engines once more, and in an instant, the both of you are blasting down the road and onto the freeway – the wind furiously whipping past you as the bike belts against the tarmac. Nathan zips between the few cars on the road, as your breath hitches with exhilaration – ‘’Hold on tight, darlin’.’’ His powerful voice cautions you, as he speeds up again, faster than you’ve ever gone – and something makes you want to let go and feel the winds above you.

You lift your body a little off the seat – arms held high over your head, as you howl out in joy. You watch the land extend far out into the horizon, the sun rising high and fast – the sky turning from the morning’s crisp golden sunrise to a blue as blue can get – the clouds white and puffy and running across the shifting blue canvas, as you and Nathan hurtle towards the bright new day.

You were never afraid – ever – when you had Nathan around. He’d always had your back, and you’ve had his. Fighting monsters, ghouls, demons, robots – the whole shebang. You remember, clear as day, when you confronted your feelings for him.

You wished it was a planned thing – but being an X-Men meant plans change faster than the weather – and the very morning that you brought Nathan out to ‘’talk’’ was interrupted by a particularly intense attack by 3 sentinels and Master Mold.

You remember the way you stood between a beaten down NTW, facing off the Master Mold alone – You lifted yourself off the ground and up into the air – using your super strength to leap bounds onto the robot – making strong contact with the Mold, enough to cause it to stumble backwards and give NTW a chance to get to safety. But you almost had the winds knocked out of you when a sentinel crashed into you with all of it monstrous force; your head and body lamenting at the shock of contact, absorbing all of the damage – your brain much too pumped with adrenaline to feel the pain, as the colossal impact of the sentinel flung your body across the length of the large backyard of the mansion.

You touch down onto the approaching ground, hard and fast – your back scraping against the ground as the heavy friction slows down you down -- after what seemed like miles of tasting dirt -- to a halt.

The clouds of dust from the small baseball field has you in a coughing fit, as you force your body to rise from the ground. A disembodied voice calls out from the blur of the powdered Earth, panicked and terrified and booming with worry; a voice you knew well enough to call home.

‘’Y/N? Fuck.’’ You see the glint of his one T.O. eye advancing towards you – but that’s the thing with feeling safe and found and cared for;

The pain that was previously subdued by the adrenaline of fight of flight, wavers in and out, and before you know it – the agony of your bones that had their screams silenced are now fifty times louder, and that’s when you yell out in pain.

You fall onto your knees – but Nathan’s quick enough that he catches you, preventing anymore damage. You control your breathing – labored and struggling – trying to breathe through the pain. Nathan holds your body up with his, your back resting on his chest.

‘’Kid, hey, can you hear me?’’ He holds your face up with his hand, ‘’Speak to me, Y/N. C’mon.’’ His voice was desperate, but you were in too much pain to talk.

Instead, you hum a little sound of assurance. ‘’Mmmhmm…’’

‘’Okay. Okay. You’ll be okay, I promise. I need you to focus on your breathing okay?’’

You felt the sting of your wounds against the cold morning air – buzzing furiously in your nerve impulses, as every repressed pain response came flooding into every corner of your thoughts.

But you remember one thing – and you somehow manage to speak it as you were slowly blacking out.

‘’Cable?’’

‘’Yes? Kid, I’m here, I’m here, please don’t go sleeping on me now.’’ He was fully focused getting the worst of your injuries in check – but stops when you put a hand on his arm.

‘’I was going… to say… that I really like… love you.’’

Nathan’s throat gets tight, caught completely off-guard by your confession in the midst of his panic, where his mind was previously running completely wild, now came to a complete standstill – and only regains momentum when he feels your heart rate slow down through his T.O. eye; but you – you weren’t afraid of anything – not when Nathan was around.

You’re brought back to the present by Nathan’s enquiring, ‘’You okay, kid?’’

You realise you were holding onto to him tighter than a corset, and you ease up your arms into a snug hug. Nathan had slowed down considerably – mainly due to the increasing traffic – but you could now see the shape of the Ferris wheel ahead, sounding out a pleased ‘’AHA!’’

Nathan takes the rest of the ride slow and steady – which gives you a chance to recount how your confession panned out.

***

You woke up, of course, in the mansion’s emergency room, on one of their best beds – which was news to you because they only saved the best beds for the worst injuries – and by the soft, fluffy feel of the bed AND a neck pillow? You probably already died and gone to heaven.

You let yourself get a feel of your body; eyes still closed.

It felt like a millennia since you’ve used it. You wriggle your toes and your fingers, before stretching out on the bed.

The sudden movements on the bed stirs Nathan awake from your bed side, and he sits up straight, his hand reaching for yours.

When you open your eyes, it’s all fuzzy and dark, only the fluorescent lights from the hallway outside (and the beeping monitor screens) illuminating the room. You suddenly feel a hand in yours, and when you look up, there was Nathan – looking at you with relief.

‘’Glad you’re finally awake, kid.’’ His eyes were soft, grateful even.

‘’Mmmm yeah. I don’t really remember what happened. Care to fill me in? I mean, it must’ve been a big one if I’m back in here again after all these years.’’

‘’Don’t sell yourself short, kid.’’ He exhales, almost as if he had to stop himself from elaborating.

He leans in close to you, pulling you in by the waist – you sensed a tension, a fatigue in his demeanor, as he breathes out a heavy sigh; holding you tight, his face smothered into your neck.

You hug him back, the sweet gesture more than welcome, especially coming from Nathan.

He pulls back a little, with you still in his arms, and explains. ‘’Well, before you faded away, I was gonna say… that I really like– love you too.’’

And everything clicks for you. The crash, the shooting pain, the glint of his eye in the dust cloud.

The I really love you.

***

You feel the blood rush into your cheeks, as Nathan pulls the bike into a stop in front of the carnival. You shake it off, before swinging your leg up and off the bike.

‘’Ready to get your ass kicked, Summers? I’m gonna be gold at these games.’’

‘’You were always gold to me, darlin’.’’ He tugs you close to him, pressing a loving kiss onto your temple.

***

His soft lips depart from your temple, ‘’I was so afraid that I was going to lose you.’’ His forehead lingers over yours, his slow steady breath exhaling as a means of respite.

‘’What can I say, Summers? You make me feel alive.’’ You jest in a whisper, pulling him into a soft, binding kiss.

***

You step back from Nathan’s lips when you hear an obnoxious honking noise.

‘’HEY! This is a FAMILY-ORIENTED EVENT! NO KISSING ALLOWED!’’ Wade bellows from Dopinder’s taxi, leaning in front of the wheel as he presses on the wheel.

You flash a knowing smile at Nathan, who offers up a hand to you.

You take it, interlocking with his fingers and swinging your arms as you stride into the carnival entrance – ready for yet another new day, a new adventure, with Nathan; one of the many that you will keep remembered for a rainy day.

#cable x reader #nathan summers x reader #nathan summers x wade wilson #cable #x men fanfiction #x men #fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction #deadpool 2 #josh brolin

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moonxtide · 6 years ago

Note

Spare some Tilly x Arthur smut fanfic please he thic and would know how to give a good time in bed to his lover.

You should not have pushed me, anon.

This fic is pure smut with very little plot. Tilly and Arthur are in a secret established relationship in this fic so sue me. This is the smuttiest I have ever written and I feel strangely proud of this. If you are underage please do not read this.

I am strongly tempted to write a mary-beth x tilly x arthur fic because they are my secret ot3.

Tilly stepped outside her tent the next morning just as dawn was turning the sky a glowing, translucent pink. She had reached for the bucket of water used to wash dirty clothes, but she withdrew her hand without touching it, her eyes on that wonderful sky arching above her, around her, surrounding her with the glow. The peace of the morning enfolded her. She turned away from the chores that awaited her and wandered silently away from camp, toward the meadow that lay further away, her senses drinking in the colors and fragrances of the new day.

The long meadow was filled with graceful spring grass, the morning dew covering it with sparkling glitter. Large crops of wildflowers spread before her eyes as far as she could see, an explosion of blues and pinks and purples dotted with bright yellows and the occasional cluster of daisies, the light petals nodding as if they were enticing the bees who found their sweet scent irresistible.

She wandered among them, the dewy grass wetting her faded skirts to the knee, but she didn’t notice and wouldn’t have cared if she had. Some days were magic and were to be savored. The chores would always be there; this dawn was fleeting and would never be duplicated. Besides, the entire camp was asleep and a little exploring would do her some good.

‘If only Arthur were here to see this,’ she thought sadly. She’d woken up to an empty blanket and a scribbled note that said he’d gone hunting and would be back soon. Tilly briefly wondered if her lover was enjoying the sights and sounds of nature as she was.

The sky overhead gradually changed from pearly pink to opalescent and finally to a great, shining golden bowl as the sun finally emerged and bathed the meadow with a radiance that warmed her. Birds sang joyously, and the silver rush of water in the creek sounded like music to her ears. She walked down to the creek and watched the crystal water dance over the stones. Her blood sang through her veins, and her heart was full. Hosea had truly found a lovely spot. Horseshoe Overlook was beautiful.

“Tilly.”

She heard her name, though it hadn’t been loudly spoken, and turned to look at him. Arthur stood some twenty feet away, his blue eyes narrowed with some unnamed emotion, his face hard and intent.

He was perfectly still, his big, muscled body locked in place; he never took his gaze off her, and the force of his want hit her like a massive wave. Her body reacted automatically to his presence, immediately growing warm and heavy, her skin abruptly becoming too sensitive for the touch of her clothing. Her breasts swelled and ached, and her stomach tightened.

She looked so beautiful under the light of the sun, and Arthur could hardly catch his breath. She stood next to the creek, surrounded by wildflowers, looking beautiful and so sweet it hurt to watch. His skin prickled with such strange heat he felt as if he would burst into, and he was dizzy with the rush of his blood. His member throbbed violently, and he knew he had to have her. Damn anyone who saw them.

He never remembered crossing the ground between them, only that she didn’t move, arms open to welcome his embrace and then she was within his grasp, her body firm and rich, her mouth inexplicably shy and pliant beneath the roughness of his. He carried her down, crushing her into the wildflowers, and shoved her skirt to her waist. The barrier of her drawers maddened him, and he stripped them away with rough hands, her dark thighs naked and vulnerable in the morning sun.

He was so hard that he cursed under his breath at the difficulty of unbuttoning his pants, her soft giggles were like music to his ears as her delicate fingers helped him with his pants. Then he was free. He opened her soft folds with one hand, revealing the small opening, and with his other hand he guided himself to her.

He looked down at the broad head of his cock poised against the delicate opening, and his testicles tightened painfully. He thrust into her, groaning aloud with the shattering relief of her tight, silky wet channel clasping his aching length and soothing him with both pleasure and the promise of more.

Tilly accepted his heavy weight with slender arms wrapped around those powerful shoulders, accepted the fierce drive of his hips slamming into her, accepted his love and lust and welcomed all of it. She felt almost unbearably stretched and possessed, but there was a satisfying glory to it, and she reveled in it. Her head rolled slowly back and forth in the dew-fresh grass as her entire body gave itself over to him.

She came abruptly, the pleasurable sensation exploding inside her and making her legs tremble around him. Her cries lifted into the air, and her back arched as he reared back on his knees with a soft groan. His own climax swiftly followed, his head thrown back and his neck corded with the force of his convulsions. He gripped her slender hips and held her tightly locked onto him until the last spasms had eased, until he was emptied of his fever.

Afterward he was silent, and so was she, as he got to his feet and re-buttoned his pants. He bent and picked up her discarded drawers, then lifted her into his arms and carried her back to camp. It was still early in the morning and no one was awake to see the disheveled pair make their way to Tilly’s tent where they lay inside in peaceful seclusion, wrapped up in each other’s arms. Tilly let her head rest on his shoulder, her eyes closed.

There still didn’t seem to be anything to say. It felt like a peace they hadn’t felt since they escaped Blackwater. It was in the Grizzly Mountains where the two of them had developed an unspoken relationship that became something more, spending every waking moment together without arousing the suspicion of the gang. It wasn’t uncommon for Tilly to be found in Arthur’s presence.

If only Dutch knew what she and his golden son had been up to.

Arthur had taken her without preliminaries, without gentling her body or preparing her, but he hadn’t been able to hold back. At that moment nothing had existed in the world but the two of them and his need to love her in the ways that she needed love.

Tilly sighed with soft pleasure, her nose buried in his neck so she could inhale the clean, warm scent of his body. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice soft. She stirred a little, then settled more deeply in his embrace. “No,” she murmured before looking up at him with a mischievous glimmer in her brown eyes. “But I’ll be sure to get back at you.”

Arthur laughed softly at that and kissed the top of her head, fingers stroking the sweet side of her face. “You think we should go tell the gang what we’ve been up too these past couple of months?” Tilly blinked and seemed to think it over for a moment before shaking her head. “No. Not yet at least. I’d like to have you all to myself…for now.” Arthur hummed in agreement and stroked her hair. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. We got another two hours left before Ms. Grimshaw wakes everyone up.”

Tilly yawned and curled up tightly against him. The sweetness of her sleeping face and soft breathing slowly lulling Arthur to sleep.

#Anonymous #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption fanfiction #rdr 2 fanfition #fanfiction #arthur morgan #tilly jackson #arthur x tilly #otp: me too sweetheart. me too.#smut #but like...arthur is the type who would be speechless at how beautiful his lover is #tilly is gorgeous and it constantly blows his mind

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kbstories · 6 years ago

Text

Here’s the promised update to my Charles/Arthur (Charthur?) fic:

Only Lost The Night

Tags: Angst, Blood and Injury, Aftermath of Torture, Slow Burn

Major spoilers for Chapter 3, specifically the mission “Blessed Are the Peacemakers”.

>>Read on AO3

<<First Chapter

Three days.

Patrolling the edge of the woods, Charles' gaze turns northward, and not for the first time.

Three days ago, he stood guard at the very same spot, raising a hand in silent farewell to the group of three leaving camp: Dutch, easily recognizable by his snow-white Horse and booming voice; Micah, bowed low, handling the reins with too-rough hands; and Arthur, caught between the two and shoulders visibly tense, even from afar...

A glance of striking blue filled with concern and a grim nod, that's all Charles got before Arthur's brown mare had galloped past and they were out of sight. Hours later, the rumors of a possible truce between them and the O'Driscolls finally reached him, and when Charles' eyes met Javier's over the dwindling firelight, he only saw his own worry reflected.

This is a mistake.

The words went unsaid, as they often did as of late. Instead, Charles tossed and turned in his cot, and paced the perimeter for three days–

In the dead of night, only two had returned – and Charles gave up on sleep altogether.

“Dutch.”

Calm, collected, neutral. Charles' indifferent mask can be nigh-impossible to read if he wants to – Arthur has teased him about it countless times, ya ain't foolin' me, though, smile bright and usually weary eyes glinting with quiet pleasure – and yet, Dutch's jaw instantly clenches with annoyance.

“Not now, Mr. Smith”, he says, dismisses him with a pointed look, but Charles doesn't budge. He's faced down raging bison, snarling wolves, storms and blizzards and a dizzying variety of human cruelty only those remaining of his people could attest to; nothing Dutch van der Linde could throw at him could be worse, short of death, and maybe not even that.

Then again, something tells him Dutch knows that, too.

“I volunteer–“

“–for more patrols, yes, if you feel like running yourself ragged, be my guest, Mr.–“

“–to lead a search party”, Charles finishes icily, hands linking behind his back to hide how they clench to fists. “I'm the best tracker we have. And Arthur's horse is too well-bred to be worth shooting. She'll lead us right to them.”

Dutch's expression hasn't moved a single inch from the aloof-slash-assertive air he surrounds himself with, and his voice is too forcibly amicable to be anything but. He steps closer, placing a firm hand on Charles' shoulder.

“My dear Charles, I'm afraid you have jumped to conclusions. Yes, things got a bit heated – but Arthur knows what he's doing. He'll rejoin us when the dust has settled. Until then, I can assure you: He is safe.”

“Dutch...”

Fingers dig deeper, hard enough to hurt. The understanding smile on Dutch's lips turns forced.

“Enough, Charles. You have been with us a while now and put in commendable work. Arthur is a dear friend to you, so I'll let it pass this once. Don't make me regret it.”

Charles holds his gaze for a moment longer, nods, submits.

“Understood.”

Night falls, and Charles pulls himself silently into the saddle, leading Taima through the woods and out into the open with the silent presence of the moon as his only companion.

The rising sun casts dewy clarity over the planes lying ahead. Charles takes a deep breath, allowing himself a brief respite. The provisions he chews on go down without taste, merely fuel to keep his gears in motion for the difficult track ahead.

His mind doesn't, can't, rest. Not yet.

It's impossible not to be aware that Arthur has been gone half a week, now – and yes, maybe he is laying low and unharmed but Charles' gut feeling says otherwise, and in the long years he spent on his lonesome, his gut has never failed him.

Below him, Taima – finnicky at first from the rude awakening at an unusual time – finds a confident pace she can keep up for hours, exhaling in short bursts with every step. Charles rubs her favorite spot high on the crest of her mane.

With enough effort, he could convince himself this is just another hunt.

That's the thing about not being alone, though: Once you let people close, their presence grows familiar, and it is easy to forget how life was without them.

Charles scoffs. Right. There is no need to pretend this – his current predicament, the last three, no, four days, the past year – is a people-thing. Because it's not.

Keeping Dutch's gang at arm's length, not letting himself get too attached... It wasn't such a struggle until he started noticing how gentle Arthur handles new horses, even the skittish ones; how hands so adept at killing become nimble, almost graceful, provided little more than a pen and some scraps of paper; how the tension around his eyes eases with the first draw from a freshly-lit cigarette.

No. This is definitely an Arthur-thing, and Charles is powerless to stop it.

It was after the run-in with those bounty hunters weeks ago that Charles realized maybe... he doesn't have to. Now Arthur only has to manage to stay out of trouble and alive long enough for Charles to do something about it.

“C'mon”, he mumbles, letting Taima fall into a light canter. “Let's find that fool.”

Knowing where to start is the first crucial step of every hunt – fortunately, the only person seeing him sneak away was Javier, and from him Charles got the gist of what happened in low whispers. Dutch is gonna be pissed, he'd cautioned, shaking his head, bring him back or don't return at all, and Charles had given him a tight-lipped smile and said nothing.

The steep Heartland hills put Taima to work, and she's huffing and sweating by the time they reach the location Javier named. Charles dismounts stiffly, his thighs aching from riding and protesting all the more as he crouches down to inspect the ground.

Criss-crossing hoof prints, too many to tell them apart, relatively fresh. Good enough. He whistles for Taima to follow, and sets off.

Minutes blur into hours, and Charles has made his way further east when he finds Arthur's hat. He almost misses it, trampled and half-covered by dust and bits of grass as it is – for a moment, he just stares, heart twisting in his chest like a living thing.

Like the sky is blue and water is wet, Arthur always, always goes back for his hat.

“Fuck this”, Charles hisses. He's in the saddle and galloping ahead before he knows it, the reins in one hand and the hat pressed to his chest with the other. The tracks are easy to see, now: at least four, five horses passed through not too long ago, cutting straight through the landscape without regard.

Confidence, or recklessness? It doesn't matter; they'll regret it either way, and soon.

Up ahead, he can make out the Dakota River, glinting silver in the bright midday sun. A lone figure appears before it, outline hazy, almost hallucinatory in the heat. Charles squints, gathers Taima into a ball of tension beneath him, ready for anything–

Is that–?

“Arthur!”

They burst forth, the thundering of hooves and the beat of his heart mixing into one. Charles calls out again, cursing between clenched teeth because he's not reacting, why is he not–

“Morgan? Hey, say something you damn–“

The momentum carries them in a wide circle around the familiar brown mare and Charles holds his breath, catching sight of Arthur slumped over her neck and blood, lots of it, all over his back and the horse's shoulder, too.

Shit. Dyani looks ready to bolt, nostrils flared wide open and eyes near-frenzied with stress as she pants in loud bursts. Charles glances at her rider's precarious position, mind rushing a mile a minute – calm the horse, or grab Arthur first?

If he's alive, that is.

There's no time to panic; keeping the adrenaline pumping through his veins out of his voice, Charles soothes, “It's okay, Dyani”, pressing ever closer to grab the reins. The horse trembles in place, ears dancing from left to right. “Shh, girl, calm now. You're safe.”

He's got her by the second try, and coaxes Taima beside her, mindful not to squash Arthur in the process.

Please be alive.

With the horses' flanks touching, Charles reaches over and pulls, sliding back to drag Arthur's limp body into his own saddle. “Arthur?” – nothing, not even a groan or a strained breath, and blood readily soaks into his shirt as he holds him tight with an arm around his waist–

But there's a pulse too, beating weakly against his, and Charles clings to it with everything he's got, vowing never to let go.

The clear trickle turns red, then pink every time Charles wrings out the cloth.

Arthur lies on a hastily spread bedroll little ways up shore, on the first patch of dry grass Charles could find once he decided they're far enough away to risk a temporary camp. It's certainly not perfect – somewhat secluded from the main road by a line of bushes, it still leaves them wide open and vulnerable in many other aspects – but Charles'd rather fend off any trespassers than leave Arthur's wounds to fester uncontested.

Kneeling by his friend's side, Charles glances over the progress he's made. Dressed in worn, clean clothes he found in one of Arthur's saddlebags, days worth of blood, sweat and grime had given way to purple-green bruises in various stages of healing. Even now, with the worst of it tended to, Charles' lips thin to a tense line at the obvious signs of torture and malnourishment.

Fucking O'Driscolls.

Before, he'd been largely neutral towards this feud between Colm and Dutch – it happened long before his time in the gang, and wasn't as much of a problem then as it is now – but this happened on Charles' watch, and if Dutch isn't willing to avenge it...

Charles shakes his head. Nothing to be done about it, now.

The wound on Arthur's shoulder is his biggest concern; its edges are torn and only partly-cauterized, leaving it a welcome breeding ground for infection or worse. Having dealt with guns and the damage they can do all his life, Charles can imagine all-too-vividly what must've happened.

A bit further down and he'd be dead on the spot, goes through his mind, and not for the first time, he pauses to breathe.

The cloth leaks small rivulets down Arthur's discolored skin as Charles digs into the wound and twists, ignoring the weak moan coming from the downed man. Only when it turns into a soft plea that sounds sickeningly close to “stop” does Charles look up, caught utterly off guard by Arthur's feverish gaze on him.

“Charles...?”

Easing up on his shoulder, Charles leans into his field of view, cupping Arthur's flushed cheek with his not-bloodied hand. He tries not to think too much of the difference in body temperature.

“Yeah, it's me. Stay put, okay? You've been shot.”

Arthur blinks, slowly, resting his head against Charles' palm. “'s Dutch 'kay?”, he rasps, eyes closed and brows drawn tight against the pain. “Trap. 's a–”

“Dutch is fine”, assures Charles with a little too much force; calmer, he says: “Don't worry about anyone else, alright? Just... keep still, I'll get us out of here in no time.”

Arthur wheezes out, “'kay, boss”, and the trace of humor is so unexpected Charles laughs.

“Don't sass me, you crazy fool. I'm not the one who got himself captured, escaped, and rode dozens of miles while bleeding out.”

A wet chuckle. Arthur grimaces. “'s a talent, Charles. Stopped questionin' it long ago.”

“Doesn't stop me from worrying, though. Now shush, I'm almost done.”

The wound is as clean as it's going to get – Charles wraps it in generous amounts of gauze and hopes it'll hold for a few hours, at least. The horses should be good to go too, having spent the time grazing on every available tuft of grass around them.

Arthur has quieted down considerably, enough so that Charles thinks he's lost consciousness. When he buttons up his shirt, however, his lids flutter open again, squinting against the sun high in the sky.

Charles meets his questioning glance with a sympathetic wince. “We need to move. Want something for the pain?”

Arthur nods, too exhausted to speak. Carefully, Charles props him against his knee, holding him upright and letting him sip some whiskey within measured pauses. “Let's get this over with”, he mutters, whistling Taima over and trying not to aggravate any of Arthur's wounds as he manhandles him into the saddle.

Like before, he slides behind him, and with Dyani following dutifully, they set off up-stream.

Arthur falls into an uneasy sleep soon enough; Charles shifts to allow his head to rest against his shoulder. Listening to his rough panting, he tightens the steadying grip against his chest, gaze fixed on the far horizon.

>>Read on AO3

#red dead redemption #rdr2 #arthur morgan #charles smith #charthur #rdr fanfiction #@ rockstar let my boy live!!!!#i'm almost through the game fam #shit's starting to go down and i'm stressed #my stuff #RDR

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incognito-burri · 7 years ago

Text

Loving Me is Like Loving War

[ part 1 ] - [ part 2 ] - [ part 3 ] - [ part 4 ] - [ part 5 ]

Billy Hargrove x Reader

PART 6

A/N: Part 6!! ik y’all have been waiting awhile but i’ve been annoyingly busy and haven’t had chance to get this up until now! Enjoy!

Also, somebody inboxed me a few days ago saying they felt uncomfortable after I described the readers skin colour as “pale”. I’m so sorry about this! It’s simply because as I’m writing these chapters or whatever you want to call them, I’m imagining myself in the situation and writing it as I see it - as i’m white and pretty damn pale I just used that as a descriptor. Didn’t mean to upset anyone/make anyone feel uncomfortable so, of course, from now I wont specifically mention skin colour/tone. Please let me know if anything like this comes up again, I just want everybody to enjoy reading!

Your eyes flutter open and for a moment you’re confused; you were sat in a patch of dewy grass on the side of the road in an area of Hawkins you don’t remember ever seeing before. You looked around blankly for a few seconds and then, all of a sudden, the events of that evening came flooding back to you – how you had gone out with Billy, how you had got off with him in the bathroom, and then how he forced himself on you when you had asked him to stop…

You shuddered at the mere thought of it, staring at your feet still in shock.

It was a quiet road and probably approaching about 1AM, so when a voice called out you out of nowhere, you almost shat yourself.

“Oh, shit! Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The voice said, calmly. You looked up slowly. You knew it wasn’t Billy, you could tell by the softness in his voice, but you were still pretty shaken up and therefore incredibly wary of anyone and anything surrounding you. A pair of white trainers and skinny blue jeans were walking towards you, presumably the owner of the unknown voice, but you remained silent.

“Hey, uh… Are you okay?” You could feel their gaze on you but you continued to look at the grass, pulling up individual blades and tearing them into small pieces. You simply nodded, hoping the mysterious character would leave you alone. Instead, they sighed and lowered themselves onto the damp grass,

“Ahh, nice ‘n’ wet…” This response made you smile slightly, and the stranger must’ve noticed because they too laughed. “Seriously though, what’s your deal? I noticed you curled up out here about an hour ago and you weren’t moving. I was literally just about to call 911 to report a potential dead body when you finally moved…”

“Uh, just a, uh… bad night.” You muttered.

“Mm yeah, I’ll say. It must’ve been bad if you’ve ended up asleep outside some random house at 12AM.” He responded.

You were quiet for a moment, “Fuck, you have no idea…” you finally groaned, your voice cracking as tears began welling up once more.

“Shit, hey, hey. It’s okay, you’re okay.” Said the voice, and you felt an arm drape round your shoulders. But after everything with Billy you flinched at their touch and they pulled away, clearly noticing your discomfort.

It was silent for a while after that and you could hear cars driving in the distance. You wondered what Billy had done after you left him in that bathroom, imagining how angry he would be and what he would do when you saw him at school tomorrow. This was enough to push you over the edge and you began crying again, “Ah shit,” you said, sniffling “I… I’m sorry.” You stumbled.

“What? Are you kidding? You don’t need to be sorry. C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

“Oh, no, no… I’m fine… really. I should go home.” You said quietly.

“Don’t be stupid! It’s the middle of the night, you’re crying, you’re quite literally going blue and you need to sleep somewhere that isn’t the side of the road. I’ll make you some food or something and then you can have my bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

Honestly, sleeping in a stranger’s house wasn’t your idea of fun and you just wanted to be alone, “It’s fine, I’m only down the road… and I’m not that hungry.” You lied.

“Okay don’t bullshit me. I know everyone around this side of town and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. And if you’re not hungry then maybe something to drink? Please, just come inside. I can’t just leave a sobbing teenage girl out in the cold…”

You considered your options and decided this strangers house, with the promise of hot food and a bed, was much more appealing than the idea of trying to find your way home at this time. “Okay, fine. I’ll come inside.”

“Yes! Good! I promise I won’t murder you, only love and kindness for those tear stained cheeks!” You couldn’t help but smile at this and, for the first time, you looked up to see this strangers face.

Holy fuckin’ shit, you thought, it’s Steve fucking Harrington.

----------

In shock after discovering that this benevolent stranger was actually King Steve, you quietly followed him into his home. You had always thought of him as a bit of a dick, but clearly you had been wrong – here he was serving you reheated mac ‘n’ cheese with a ridiculously large cup of coffee.

“Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but you kinda look like… Mmm, how can I put this nicely? Well, shit. What the fuck happened to you?” said Steve.

You looked down into your coffee, cupping it in your hands as you tried to absorb as much heat as possible, “Now, don’t take this the wrong way,” You replied, your use of his words immediately making him smile, “But I don’t really think telling a stranger my life story is a good idea…”

He smiled broadly and sat down next to you, “Ahah, okay, yeah. Fair point. I guess we’ll go from the beginning: Hey! I’m Steve, welcome to my home!”

It was your turn to laugh now and you turned to face him, “Hi Steve. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You looked down at the plate of food in front of you, suddenly realising how hungry you were. However, you were then pulled away from the food by the sound of Steve clearing his throat and you looked up to find his hand outstretched, hovering in front of you. You simply laughed as you looked to his face, “Oh my goddd Y/N! You’re supposed to shake it, jeez. Who raised you?” and with that, he reached out and grabbed your hand, shaking it vigorously. “There, now we’re officially acquainted… So, I’m no longer a stranger and you can tell me what the hell went down tonight that’s resulted in you being sat at my kitchen table eating mac ‘n’ cheese made by my beloved mother.”

You smiled at him before simply saying “At least let me eat my damn food first, I’m emotionally traumatised for Christ’s sake!”

“Okay, okay! I’ll go change and leave you to eat in peace. Do you want some fresh clothes or something? That dress is looking pretty damp and uncomfortable.” He said.

“Uh, no it’s fine. I wouldn’t want to be a bother.” You said, already feeling as if you had caused the boy enough trouble.

“Agh, whatever Y/N. I’ll bring you some clean clothes, I’m not having you sleep in my bed in a wet and muddy dress!”

“But-“ You went to speak, but he interrupted you.

“No buts! Now shut up and eat your frickin pasta!” He smiled before bounding upstairs, leaving you alone with your food and your thoughts. An hour ago, that would’ve been hell, but somehow Steve Harrington had banished all thoughts of Billy from your mind and all you could think about now was the delicious cheesy dish that sat steaming in front of you. And for that, you were very grateful.

{ @thisisme-allofme-anditsyours @jinx-is-fire @coolyoungbouquetdestinylove @sahdness @nicospaten @fangirlinganditswonders }

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mel-the-fangirl · 7 years ago

Text

In The Rain - Requested

Sam Holland x Reader

Words: 2,513

Requested by: anonymous (anon, please forgive me. please.)

“Could I have a Sam Holland imagine where they have been dating for 4 years but know each other forever(Him and the reader are 20) and he takes her to their spot (your pick as long as it’s outside) and he has this plan in his head to propose to hear, but when he is about to talk it starts raining and he gets sort of sad, but then it’s all fluffy and he proposes?”

Good GOD this took way longer than it needed to. Please support me huhuhu I’m still here guys, I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking rusty please bear with me on this one, and please. TELL ME HOW I DID. COMMENT. MESSAGE ME. PLS LOVE ME HUHU I’M SO SORRY GUYS

——————————————————————

You’ve been with Sam Holland for four amazing years, but you’ve known him even longer than that and it was such a beautiful thing to have your relationship progress so naturally. When you two met as children, you two clicked instantly, almost like it was always meant to be. As you two grew older, you never admitted it but you were afraid that you two would grow apart, that Sam would come into his own and forget all about you, replace you with better, more interesting people.

But that never happened.

Regardless of what you thought, you and Sam grew even closer as the years went on. You both knew that you had found something special in each other and nothing could take that away from you.

When you reached the scary and somewhat predictable world of high school, one thing that you never saw coming (but everyone else did) happened. Sam, your best friend, your confidante, your shoulder to cry on, asked you out. On a date.

And that was kind of the shock of your life, I mean, who would’ve thought? But like all things surrounding you and Sam, it just made sense and most of all, it felt right. Besides, you couldn’t really say no to your best friend, could you?

Your first date with Sam was one of the days of your life you would never forget. He took you to the cinema, picking that cheesy romantic comedy you’d been going on and on about for weeks, he didn’t care for it but just seeing you laugh and swoon at all the right moments was more than enough for him. After the film, Sam took you to dinner, holding your hand all the way and wrapping his coat around you when the night got too cold.

The only problem was that you were so nervous throughout the whole thing that Sam had to steal some fries off of your plate just to get you to act like yourself again.

“Oi, put it back where you got it, fucker.” you growled at him

“There she is.” Sam grinned broadly, placing the offending fries back on your plate

With a roll of your eyes and a smirk on your lips, you two eased back into your usual banter but of course the whole situation was anything but usual. Somewhere behind the laughter and the playful shoves was a subtle electricity wrapping around the two of you like a vise, it wasn’t much but it was a glimpse of something more to come.

After dinner ended, you walked to the park and honestly it was such a cliché, would you believe it actually rained? You two were soaking wet, running through the slick grass, hand in hand, laughter echoing all around you.

You two finally found shelter underneath a tall sycamore tree and you promptly wrung the rain water out of your hair while Sam shook himself out like a dog, effectively soaking you again.

“Sam!” you squealed as the cold water hit you

He laughed heartily and you couldn’t help but join in. When the laughter finally bubbled down into breathless chuckles, your eyes met underneath the glow of the moonlight escaping through the trees.

Sam felt like he was floating up in the night sky. His head was light and his freckled cheeks were burning, all that from one night with you. He didn’t know what came over him or how he found the strength to place his shivering hands upon your crimson tinted cheeks, but he did.

You exhaled sharply when his palms made contact, sending sparks and shivers throughout your body. You looked up at him, confused.

If the sound of the rain wasn’t so loud, you were sure Sam would be able to hear how hard your heart was pounding against your chest. It wasn’t any better for him, either. He was so nervous, he felt as if your beautiful eyes were boring holes into his own.

But it was now or never.

So he asked,

“Can I kiss you?”

His face was already mere inches from yours and his breath touched your lips as he spoke. It was dizzying. You nodded your head almost imperceptibly, frozen in the moment.

Slowly, Sam finally closed the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours.

Fireworks exploded behind your eyelids as your eyes fluttered shut. How on earth were his lips so warm in this weather? It seeped into your body as your lips melded together in perfect sync.

You two pulled apart sooner than both of you would’ve liked. You rested your forehead against his and shut your eyes, trying to steady your frantic heart. Unable to contain himself any longer, Sam cupped your cheeks in his hands and pulled you into a fiery and passionate kiss. Finally, you pull apart and open your eyes.

“Wow.” you mumbled under your breath

“I think we should do that again.” Sam chuckled, not wasting another minute before pulling you into him once more.

That was how it all began.

Four years later, on the day of your anniversary, you stood at the ticket booth in the same movie theatre Sam took you to on your very first date, with your hand in his. You watched him as he bought your tickets, his auburn hair flopping against his forehead in that messy way only he could pull off, his emerald eyes were shining underneath the glare of the fluorescent lights.

He just got more handsome as the years went by.

How on earth did you get so lucky?

The sound of his dorky laugh brought you back to the present, just in time to see the ticket clerk hand the tickets over to your freckled boyfriend. With a cheeky smile, he tugged your arm in the direction of your designated cinema number.

“What was so funny back there?” you asked Sam inquisitively, noting that he was more fidgety than usual

“Huh? Nothing! Just a good joke.”

Your eyes narrowed into tiny slits as you watched him fumble with your movie tickets, handing them to the attendant with shaky hands, you observed.

Oh, something was definitely up. You so hoped that Harry didn’t put him up to any pranks, the gall of those twins really if they were going to prank you on your anniversary. As you entered, you swiveled your head around the dimly lit area, checking for any sign of Harry, or even Tom. But strange enough, there wasn’t anyone in there.

“Are we too early?” you whispered to Sam as he led you to your seats

He shrugged his coat off, steeling his face into something more nonchalant.

“Uhhh, no I don’t think so, darling. I think we’re right on time.” he said, crossing his legs and placing his hand in yours

“Okay, what is going on?”

Your question was immediately ignored as the lights shut off and the movie began but even as the first notes of the film’s opening sequence began, you kept your eyes on him. What on earth was he up to?

And where the hell was everybody else in this fucking theatre?

You began looking around the room again to see if anyone else had come in or if either Harry or Tom was lurking around, hovering over your seat with a bucket of water or something to that effect. When you found no one, you settled back in your seat and put your hand back in Sam’s.

Focusing on the film in front of you, you were more than a little confused to hear and see a familiar scene playing out on the giant screen. A huge grin began to spread on your lips as you turned to Sam once again.

“I thought we were seeing something new?” you asked him, realising what he’d done

He let out a little chuckle, turning as well so that you were both facing each other.

The faintest and softest of smiles was playing on his lips, he looked into your eyes for a second before placing his lips against yours.

“Happy anniversary, darling girl.” Sam mumbled against your lips before pulling away

It was nothing short of amazing how after all these years, he could set your body on fire even with the most delicate kiss.

With the very same cheesy romantic comedy you watched on your first date playing on screen, you were reminded of just how much that day meant to the both of you. After the movie ended, you found yourselves on the same road you walked all those years ago.

It was silent, the both of you caught up in old memories. None of you seemed to be aware of where you were going. You two walked and walked, hand in hand, plainly enjoying each other’s quiet company.

You and Sam reached the park, the addictive smell of dewy grass mixed with the fresh night air mingled together, permeating your senses. Neither of you said a word, but almost certainly, you both knew where you were headed.

Underneath the sycamore tree.

Branches stretching and reaching towards the starry night sky, its leaves almost kissing the moon. The two of you sat underneath it, leaning against the trunk.

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” Sam observed, nudging his leg against yours

“So have you.” you replied, nudging back

“I guess I’ve just been thinking.”

“Oh, that’s no good.”

“Hey!” he frowned at you for a millisecond before tackling you down onto the soft grass, his fingers unleashing no mercy on your sides

“Sam, please no!” you begged in between your maniacal laughter

He had you rolling all around the grass, pieces of it stuck to your hair and on your clothes, lucky you weren’t wearing anything white. His attack was severe and you were gasping for air until in a flash, his hands were gone.

You were left with your back on the ground, your eyes facing towards heaven. As you took in lungfuls of air, you watched, entranced, as the stars danced in the sky. It just couldn’t have gotten any better at that moment.

The events of today took you on a trip down memory lane, you felt like you were sixteen years old again, holding Sam’s hand throughout the day, sneaking little kisses in the movie theatre, laughing like mad..

“This has been the perfect day, Sam. Thank you so much.” you said, hoping he would hear you despite how breathless you were

When he didn’t respond, you sat up and almost fell back down at what you were seeing.

Sam, a little pale, with one knee against the grass, holding a little velvet box in his shaking hands.

“Sam..” you drew a long breath in. Your heart was pounding and you hadn’t even recovered from his tickle assault.

“Y/N,” he began, his deep voice wavering ever so slightly

You watched him in a state of shock, your hand was covering your mouth and your chest was rising and falling rapidly. He took your stunned silence as his cue to begin.

“Y/N, my darling, my love, the light of my fucking life, I love you. And I know that in the majority of proposals, they always say stuff about looking to the future and things like that but I want to take a moment to look back,” Sam gave you a wobbly smile as his eyes began to shine with unshed tears, he didn’t want to cry, not yet.

“My entire life so far, I’ve spent it with you. We’ve had the most incredible adventures together, and I want you to know that I am so grateful for you, your presence, your advice, all of it. And I-”

Just as the first tear dripped down the side of his cheek, a crack of lightning shot through the sky, and pelting rain came not long after. He stood up abruptly, looking all around him as what he thought was going to be the perfect setting for his proposal turned into a fucking huge muddy puddle.

“Fucking shit.” he muttered in sheer annoyance, running a hand through his dampening hair

“Excuse me?” you called out to him, arms crossed against your chest

He spun on his heel and walked briskly to you, placing his hands on the sides of your arms.

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I didn’t think it was going to rain and I just wanted everything to be perf-” you cut him off by placing a finger to his lips

“Take the knee, Holland.” you commanded him

Sam looked into your shimmering eyes, smiled, and plunged a knee into the muddy ground without hesitation. You nodded your head in approval, struggling to maintain your composure as you took in the sight of him kneeling in front of you, ring box in his hand, and love glowing in his beautiful teary eyes.

“Please continue.”

“Right. So, as I was saying,” he chuckled, wiping at his eyes with his free hand

“I just can’t describe the feeling you give me. It’s like the feeling you get when your favourite song plays on the radio, the sky is that colour that makes you whip your phone out to take a picture, and the air isn’t too cold or too hot, but just perfect so that the wind can blow against your face,”

He took a deep shaky breath. Your heart was being pulled in so many different directions as you watched him start to cry freely, putting every emotion he was feeling into his proposal.

“God,” Sam sighed, shaking his head. “Y/N, you just make me forget everything that’s going on in my life and I don’t care how cliché it sounds, but you make me so incredibly happy.”

He looked up at you with more tears in his eyes and opened the tiny box. Nestled inside in a bed of black velvet, was the most gorgeous ring you’ve ever seen. It took your breath away and more tears began to streak down your cheeks with lightning speed, mingling with the rain.

“Marry me?” Sam whispered just above the roar of the downpour

You two were soaking wet and Sam’s trousers were getting muddy but neither of you cared. You took one look at your dashingly handsome fiancé and nodded your head, droplets of rain water shaking off of the ends of your hair.

“YES!” you screamed, jumping up and down where you stood

“Yes?!” Sam echoed ecstatically, getting up and immediately taking you in his arms

“Oh my God!” he laughed happily, slipping the ring onto your finger with ease despite his shaking hands

“Perfect fit.”

Sam held you gently, cupping your face with one hand. He gazed at you lovingly, the woman of his dreams, his best friend, his fianceé.

With the incredible thought in his mind that he was actually going to marry you, Sam wasted no time in placing his lips on yours. And just like the first time and every time he kissed you, sparks flew in every direction, and the world slowly disappeared around you.

——————————————————————

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