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soldmysoultootomeboys · 4 years

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Demon MC with Human Obey Me Brothers Reverse AU

Okay but what if the brothers were all ‘normal’ humans who ended up summoning a demon, who is MC.

I’m in love with this idea. Lowkey might write a fic about this jk...unless? Levi’s was surprisingly the most fun to write. Also I guess tw for normal demon things??? Nothing too graphic tho

Part 2

Lucifer

As a human he was a high ranking businessman. While still a formal person on the outside he had a perverse interest in the occult that he hid from the rest of his coworkers.

Due to his important position and large pay he manages to get his hands on some rare books on demon summoning. After a lot of research he tries them out.

When he summons you he doesn't look surprised or afraid and is quite clinical about it at first. The first thing he does is bind your powers so they can never be used against him. After he informs the rules you must follow if you're to be living with him.

Even as a human he is quite prideful and controlling and he wants to remind you who's really in charge.

At first he only sees you as a demon. He lets you do your own thing when he isn't ordering you around and when the two of you do go out in public he only introduces you as an acquaintance of his. People are rather surprised at this as he's not the type to walk around with others and rumors quickly fly off about you two.

It's not until you two are walking home from a shopping trip that you really start to bond. It was a late night and no one was around so the two of you take your time, enjoying the cool air and stars.

All too late that you hear the click of a gun. From the shadows steps a man, weapon pointed straight at you. Seeing your nonthreatening human form as well as Lucifer who practically reeks of wealth he thought the two of you easy targets. Wrong.

With inhuman speed you lunge forward shifting into your demon form. The gun clatters to the floor as you rip him to shreds with no remorse. It's only when Lucifer finally calls you away that you realize he's dead.

Once you manage to get home he is immediately lecturing you about how risky the actions you just did were. Someone could have seen you or more importantly seen him. What would you have done if the cops got involved? Eat them?

Once he's done though he thanks you and a few days later a gift ends up in your room. He never claims it, even though you can smell his cologne all over it.

After that night Lucifer treats you different. Not better, but not worse either. If anything he's a bit kinder but in a cold sort of way and he keeps his distance when anything gets too serious. At first you think its because he's scared of you. It isn't till he finally approaches you, a stern look on his face and orders you to transform that you realize he was working up the courage to see what you really looked like.

The pact urges you to turn, so you do and you let him examine you, circling several times. He's most interested in your wings, asking if he could touch them and when you consent he gently runs his hands over them. Despite you being a demon he treats you delicately shifting aside feathers with a careful hand and running a light fingertip over leathery skin.

It's a strange feeling at first, but not bad and you're practically purring by the end

After that he asks to see your true form more and more

Mammon

He didn't mean to summon you.

He just wanted to make a quick buck. It was getting close to Halloween people were starting to be interested in demons and spooks once again. That's why he thought it would be a great idea to start a seance business.

Twenty dollars for him to pretend to summon a demon, maybe shake a table once or twice, have some scary sounds playing in the background, nothing too big. Who would have known that the book he stole as his main prop would really work.

When he first sees you he screams.

He immediately tries to shove you back into the book to no avail. As he has no clue how to get rid of you he ends up stuck with you, a terrifying demon.

At first its very easy (and amusing) to scare him. Bear your teeth, mumble in a made up language, threaten to rip him to shreds.

You can actually see his soul leave his body when he faints.

However in typical Mammon fashion he gets used to you surprisingly quick, especially when you don't come through on your promise to eat him.

After that he figures that together the two of you could start scamming people for even more money. After all, he does own a real live demon now.

You two make bank stealing and tricking people. With his knack for creating schemes and your powers the two of you are rolling in money in no time, although it always seems to be lost pretty quickly thanks to his terrible gambling habits.

It's in the middle of a heist that something goes wrong. Someone, you don't know who you can only hear the click of a revolver, pulls out a gun. With lightning fast reflexes you’re tackling Mammon shielding him with the tip of your wing and just in time as something is shot into it tearing through muscle and sinew.

The urge to rip them to shreds overtakes you, growing with every second that your human is in danger. But there was so many of them and you couldn't protect Mammon and yourself at the same time. The need to get somewhere safe is much more important so you leave.

It's only your quick reflexes that get the two of you out alive.

When you finally get home Mammon laments over all of the money he lost on the deal. acts like it doesn't affect him. His complaints last exactly till he sees the blood staining your form.

He almost faints right there.

Once he recovers he's immediately running to get ice packs and gauze, fussing over your injured wing. It's obvious he’s worried even though he tries to hide it under his tsundere act. When you’re finally bandaged up he thanks you glancing at your wound the entire time.

It's hard not to appreciate the gesture.

You just don't know how to tell him that your going to be perfectly fine in like two days (thank Diavolo for demon healing)

After this you two are a lot closer. Even before you were friends, but now the relationship has morphed into something different.

The two of you do less dangerous scams and while Mammon doesn't act too different he gets super weird when you're too close. Blushing a terrible crimson and freaking out when you touch.

Even for a demon its not hard to see that he has a crush.

Levi

Also summoned you on accident.

He was actually trying to summon Ruri-chan. You have to admit when it comes to her he does his research. Drew a full pentagram and everything and as a final touch placed a little plushy in the middle.

He absolutely panics when you arrive here instead.

Used to humans being afraid you, you ignore him at first. You fall to one knee eager to pledge your loyalty in exchange for his soul when you land on something squishy.

Pulling it out from under you see a plushy??? Of some anime character??? TF???

This pulls him from his stupor and he snatches it from you and begins to lecture you on the importance of Ruri-chan and anime on human culture.

You have no clue whats going on at this point.

When he finally stops talking he actually gets kind of excited. He summoned a hot demon??? Woah! This is just like his anime 'I accidentally summoned a demon from Hell who became my roommate and now I might be falling for them.'

At your confused look he immediately turns it on and has you watch it. You two end up having an entire movie night together.

After that the two of you mostly act like roommates.

He often compares you to his favorite series TSL where 7 humans summon a demon named Henry and go on crazy adventures with him. The first time he accidentally calls you Henry he blushes like crazy.

At first he acted like you were annoying him most of the time but it was pretty easy to catch on to his tsundere act. He actually loves having you around and will whine when you have to leave. He says its because he can't play two player games without you but you know the truth.

On the rare occasions the two of you go out he gets jealous of anyone with even the slightest interest in you. Your HIS demon why are you giving someone else your attention?

Its pretty easy to distract him though. Just the slightest touch and hes flushing and stuttering. You can do whatever he won't get the hint that you like him the most.

'There's no way you meant to do this. This must be some weird demon norm I don't know about. Yup that's it.'

Satan

Summoned a demon on purpose. And not just that summoned you on purpose.

With his extensive library he had more than enough information to figure out how to summon a demon. After that it was just a matter of choosing which one. He finally settled on you.

You don't need to worry about explaining how a pact works to him. He already knows everything on it. Maybe even more than you. Nerd.

Don't express this opinion out loud. He will be furious.

Even so he'll still make you tell him about summoning a million times just to see if you know anything different.

Mostly you’re an over glorified assistant/labrat to him. MC grab that book. MC draw this summoning circle. MC stick your hand in this flame.

Of any of the brothers he is the one who sees your demon form the most and the one who asks the most questions about it. You have very sharp claws what are those used for? Four sets of wings? I wonder why you have so many. Slitted eyes? Do you have any idea why they are like this?

He is very interested in the differences between humans and demons so you end up performing a lot of tests.

He would also be curious about the celestial war and your part in it. Its up to you to choose to answer him or not.

If you ignore any of his questions he will get annoyed and be snippy. But just tell him an interesting tidbit about hell and he'll be back to normal in no time.

As for his actual job he works as a researcher at a big lab. You go there often to help him with his work. He used to have a lot of assistants but none could handle his terrible rage.

Its one of the reasons you work so well with him. An angry human? That's no big deal. Now if he was a demon that would be something to talk about

His tantrums are actually kind of cute. Like a fussy kitten.

Telling him this has a 50/50 chance of either making him blush or rampage.

If its possible he uses you to annoy his colleagues

Janice talked shit about his theories on planetary alignment? Poison her

Jk not really but maybe just, like, make her day a hundred times worse?

Thanks MC you're great

A power team at its best. His need to get back at people he hates works well with your general need to cause mischief

Asmodeus

An orgy summons you obvious reasons. Although technically not the one who summoned you, you end up making a pact with Asmodeus before the nights over.

It was inevitable really, of all the humans there how could you not choose him? His overblown confidence and cocky insistence that he was perfect was practically adorable. I mean here you are, a demon of all things, and yet this little human is here insisting that he was perfection himself. You just wanted to eat his soul right up he was so cute.

To him its obvious why. After all, he was so beautiful that even demons fell in love with him, he couldn't blame you.

Even if you tell him the real reason he won't believe it.

Immediately starts bragging about how he could seduce demons

If you leave a pact mark on him though he will complain

As for actual duties you don't have a lot

At parties you work as his wingman but at home the two of you have more of a domestic role. He treats you more like a best friend than a demon.

He has a lot of spa days, something he immediately insisted that you take part in too.

One day you bring him a bottle of demon moisturizer. Big mistake

When he finds out about all the different demon beauty products he immediately orders you to get him some.

Your poor wallet.

He's always ordering new things. He really wants to go down to Devildom so he could look himself instead of having to order off Akuzon. One day you'll figure out a way to show him the eternal night.

He's also very flirty towards you, something your not surprised about. Hes always on your lap or petting your head or asking for affection, and he constantly alludes to the things the two of you could do. As time goes on he begins to get even more needy, sometimes ignoring others at parties just to flirt with you. He wants all of your attention all of the time.

Beelzebub

Did not mean to summon you but now that your here hes pretty okay with it

Of all the brothers he the one to treat you the most like another human.

However you have one duty that you take very seriously

You must protect his brother, no matter what.

Other than that you two are like roommates. He doesn't really ask you of much except to keep the fridge stocked (which is a bigger job than expected this guy eats a lot) and he'll take care of the rent and everything else.

Sometimes he'll ask if you want to head to the gym with him. You thank your demon metabolism since every time you end up going he always stops for burgers and shakes at his favorite place on the way home.

He lifts a lot for a human, no surprise since you've seen how sculpted his body is. Seriously he's like a Greek statue. You spot him while doing reps and help correct his form while necessary. It's a bit of a switch from dealing with demon biology to human biology though so you have to make sure that you don't accidentally hurt your new friend.

Sometimes the two of you have movie nights, although its more of an excuse for him to buy a bunch of human food and you to buy a bunch of demon food and pig out. He still manages to out eat you somehow.

Occasionally the two of you will go out with his brother Belphie although it usually ends up with either you or Beel carrying him when he falls asleep. But it gives you time to chat with Beel on your own which you don't mind

The two of you end up with a good bromance, sometimes minus the b.

He treats you like an old friend and even ends up telling you about Lilith, his dear sister who died when a car hit her. He had only managed to pull his brother out of the way at the time and he still remembers it well. You can practically smell the guilt that hangs off him when he tells you that. It's hard not to feel touched after that story even for a demon.

He confesses a lot of things to you, things he has a hard time saying to other people. He never calls upon his pact to swear you to secrecy. He trusts you.

Belphie

Also summons you on purpose

When you first meet Belphie he's angry, uncontrollably angry. It's at the point where it almost surprises you. After all a human filled with so much wrath is no small feat.

His first order is a tough one but one you have no choice but to accept.

Kill the man that murdered his sister

The two of you work hard to hunt him down, spending many days brainstorming late into the night. Although it always ends up with just you working, as Belphie has the strangest tendency to fall asleep while talking. (Narcoleptic maybe? Or just lazy?) Whatever the case you don't terribly mind.

Even just his presence helps, in some strange way.

When you finally track him down Belphie insists on going too. He wants to see the man die with his own two eyes.

It's not a hard fight but it is an emotional one. Through the bond you two share you can feel Belphies anger, his pain, his desire for revenge, and then finally an emptiness.

When its over the two of you go home, still covered in whatever bits of him were left. Belphegor shows no emotions and you wonder if hes in shock from seeing someone die so suddenly, but all you feel is a tired yet content thrum through your bond.

When you finally get home Belphegor immediately tries to go to sleep and its only through a little nagging and a lot of manhandling that your able to convince him to shower first. By now the bloods beginning to dry into a nasty goop and once he's done you jump in too, soothed by the steam and clouds of soap drifting around you.

To no ones surprise Belphie is asleep when you get out. It's then when you realize that you have nothing left to do.

With that one action your purpose here is done, and yet your pact remains. Your thoughts begin to rise Belphie who clings stubbornly to sleep. It's no use though. The two of you are too connected for it to stop.

You hear the sheets rustle and he raises one hand patting at the covers. A universal sign to come here.

"You're so loud" He mutters even though you haven't said a word. "Just sleep already."

A useless answer but a comforting one. You curl up at his side, feeling the tiniest bit like an obedient dog, but his arm settles over your shoulder and he drapes himself over your chest erasing the thoughts from your mind.

You eyes flutter close, at least for the moment. You can decide what you should do when you wake up.

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somethinginthewayiam · 4 years

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House Party

(This is a continuation of Acquaintances)

Pairing: Henry x reader

Warnings: fluff, a little smutty, thigh riding, hand job, and more fluff

Words: 3632

Summary: It’s been a while since you’ve seen Henry and you thought he forgot about you until he showed up at your door one day. But because you had to go to work, you weren’t able to spend some more time with him. That all changed when you friend drags you to a friend of friend’s house party and you run into him again...

a/n: after the overwhelming response to Acquaintances I HAD to make a second part. Thank you all so much for your kind words and high demand of a part 2! I tagged everybody who wanted to be tagged or said they wanted a part 2. I hope nobody got tagged against their will. Enjoy!!

tag list: (crossed out ones wouldn’t take)

@harrysthiccthighss @angelhorn26 @mariagherman @the-soot-sprite @maizyistrash @crazybutconfidentaf @thereisa8ella @ladyofoaksandmoonlight @daniw7 @licensed-fan-girl @xxxminodaxxx @omgkatinka @ragamuffin285 @fishcustardandclintbarton @mary-ann84 @loving-the-cambridges @peakygroupie @thecavillchronicles @summersong69 @bebe-a7x1369 @nerra75 @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair @harrysparker @oddsnendsfanfics

It’s been 10 days since Henry had kissed you in front of your apartment building, not that you were counting. But despite your hopes, you didn’t run into him again. You had your hopes up that he might be at the bar again at your next Friday night with your friends. He wasn’t.

After a short wave of disappointment when you didn’t spot him anywhere, you got back to reality and your group of friends. Of course, he forgot about you. He was a celebrity and you’re just a normal girl. Two worlds that don’t match.

He said that he liked the hunt and you surely weren’t an easy target. But maybe you didn’t seem interested enough. Honestly, you didn’t even know yourself if you were actually interested in him. But the kiss was really nice though…

You were putting your hair up in a ponytail and put some pink tainted lip balm on your lips before you turned off the lights in your bathroom. You took your phone off the charger and threw it in your bag together with your keys.

You had your hand on the door handle when your intercom buzzed, indicating someone being at the main door downstairs. “Hello?”, you asked surprised after pushing the talk-button. Maybe some package deliverer who tried every button until someone buzzed him in.

“Y/N?”, you heard a male voice, vaguely familiar. “Yes?”, you answered, unsure what this was about. “Hi, it’s me, Henry”, the voice said and your head snapped back, looking at the intercom with big eyes. Fuck! What was he doing here? And why now when you were on your way to your afternoon shift at the restaurant?

You checked the time on your phone. Shit, you had to get going. You pushed the talk-button again. “I’ll be down in a sec”, you told him and got out of your apartment. You locked the door and rushed down the four flights of stairs.

When you walked towards the big main entrance door, you saw him standing outside, a big black and white dog on a leash next to him. When you came closer to the door and he was able to see you, a big smile appeared on his face and he gave you a little wave.

“And I was afraid you would break your stalker-promise”, you said as you came out and made him chuckle. You didn’t know what to do as you had kissed the last time you saw each other. You just opted for the most awkward option and gave him a quick hug.

“How did you know which apartment to ring up?”, you asked when you stepped back and put your hands in your pockets. “There are 3 Y/N’s. I just tried everyone”, Henry confessed. You felt your cheeks blushing and bit down on your lip to keep the corners of your mouth from curling up.

“And what brings you here today?”, you asked him, the undertone in your voice that it has been a while since you saw each other clearly audible. An apologetic grin appeared on his face.

“I was out of town the past week. Work reasons”, he told you. “I got back last night and when I walked Kal today, I thought I’ll come over and ask if you want to join us”, he continued and nodded at the bear of a dog to his feet. And just like that he has explained why he was absent for the past 10 days. Smooth little fucker.

“Hi, nice to meet you, Kal”, you said and crouched down in front of the dog. “It’s an Akita, right?”, you asked and looked up at Henry as you let the dog sniff your hand. “Yes, you’re right, he’s an American Akita. I’m impressed you know that”, Henry looked at you in awe, but you didn’t notice as you patted the furry friend in front of you.

“I always wanted one when I was little but our flat was too small and both my parents worked full-time jobs. We simply didn’t want to do that to any dog for that matter”, you told him as you got up again.

“So, do you want to join us?”, he asked as you hadn’t answered his initial question yet. “I’d love to”, you said and made him smile, “but I’m on my way to work”, you told him with an apologetic look on your face.

“Oh, well. I couldn’t expect you to be free when showing up unannounced”, he said but the disappointment clearly visible on his face, which you found very cute. “Where are you off to in the middle of the afternoon?”, he asked as he checked his watch for the time. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”, you said with a chuckle and pushed the strap of your bag onto your shoulder again.

“Why won’t you tell me where you work? Is it a secret? Are you a spy?”, he asked and a playful smile appeared on his face. “No, it’s just fun to tease you about it”, you shrugged your shoulders. You got on your tiptoes to give him a peck on his cheek before you walked past him.

“I’m not off saving the world, that’s for sure. That’s your job Superman!”, you winked at him while walking backwards before you turned around and walked off into the direction of the bus station.

Later that week, your friend Julie, who was also at the bar when you met Henry, invited you to a house party. It was the friend from a guy she met at bar that night you left with Henry. Apparently, after you were gone, a group of men joined your table and Julie hit it off with one of them. To the extend that she took him home that night to hook up as what was only supposed to be a one-night-stand but they have met several times since.

You shared a cab with Julie and were on your way to an address your friend had given the driver. Since she didn’t say anything specific about the type of party you were going to, you were wearing your favorite ripped, black jeans, a white blouse that hung off your left shoulder and showed off the strap of your black lace bra and a pair of adidas sneakers. Your eyes were framed with black eyeliner and your lips were painted in a bright red. Your favorite leather jacket shielded you from the cold of the night.

When the cab drove into the noble parts of London, you felt a little more underdressed with every house you passed. “Julie, why didn’t you say I should have dressed up?”, you asked your friend and turned away from the window. “Because you don’t, you look great as always”, Julie waved off your concern. Since she was wearing a big coat, you couldn’t see if she dressed up.

“His friend might be some rich dude, but Paul said it’s a casual evening with friends. So, don’t worry”, she continued and the next moment the cab already stopped. It wasn’t like you were able to change now anyway.

You huffed out loud as you followed Julie out of the car. “Hey, baby”, she walked directly towards a guy waiting at an open garden door. He threw his finished cigarette to the ground and put it out with his foot before he wrapped his arms around your friend, welcoming her with a passionate kiss. You looked away to give them a moment of intimacy. “Hey babe”, he said when he pulled back. Those two seemed so in love, but you hoped there wouldn’t only be couples around as this would make for a very boring night for you.

“This is my friend, Y/N”, Julie introduced you and took a step to the side, her arm still around Paul. “Hi, nice to meet you”, you shook his hand. This way you could see that he was just wearing some ordinary jeans and a dress shirt. So maybe Julie was right that it was just a casual night at a friend’s house, despite the wealthy area that surrounded you.

“Let’s go inside”, Paul motioned towards the door and led the way, Julie in his arms and you right behind them. He held the door open for both of you. You were greeted by a big dog right when you sat your foot over the threshold. “And there’s the man of the house”, Paul said and patted the dog’s side before he took his jacket off.

“Let me take your coats”, Paul offered and helped first Julie and then you out of your jackets to hang them on the already well filled coat hanger by the door. Meanwhile the dog sniffed the new guests. When he was in front of you, you recognized the dog as an Akita, a very familiar Akita. When he smelled your hand and also recognized you, he barked as if he wanted to greet you.

“Hey, Kal, settle down”, you heard a deep voice and the next moment, Henry came through a door that seemingly belonged to the living room.

“Who’s the stalker now?”, Henry asked with an amused smile when he spotted you in the hallway. “Henry?”, you yelped in surprise. “What are you doing here?”, you asked him the first thing that popped into your head. “I live here. That’s my party”, he quickly explained.

“You two know each other?”, Julie asked interested. “We met at the bar a few weeks ago”, you told her but your eyes were glued to Henry who held your gaze as well. “I didn’t see you talking to him then”, Julie thought out loud and gave you an indecisive look. This would mean a round of questions later on.

“Henry, this is Julie”, Paul introduced your friend to his. “She’s my…”, Paul stopped and looked at Julie, who was already clinging to him again. “We didn’t actually talk about that yet”, he said to the woman in his arms. “No, we didn’t”, she said with the brightest smile on her lips. The word girlfriend hanging between them in the air. You and Henry exchanged a look behind their backs, holding back your giggles. They were so sweet, it was almost gross.

“Well, whatever she is to you, she’s welcome”, Henry said and invited them into the living with a stretched-out arm into the room’s direction. You wanted to follow them in but just when you wanted to step through the doorframe, Henry put his arm in front of you, building a barrier.

“Do I have to be with Paul to be welcomed here too?”, you joked and raised an eyebrow at him. “There’s toll to pay”, he smirked at you. “Either you tell me what you do for a living or…”, and his smile got a bit dirtier, “I’ll get a kiss”, he told you the conditions. You chuckled to yourself and at his cockiness.

Right at that moment, Kal ran into the living room and pressed past his owner, making him look down. You used his distraction to your advantage and just dived under his arm. You laughed out loud at his facial expression. “You’re really obsessed with my occupation”, you shook your head at him. “Just because you make such a secret out of it”, he let his hand fall to his side, sighing defeated.

“How about you get me a drink and I’ll tell you all about it”, you winked at him and patted Kal, your secret ally, who was sitting by your feet.

You were talking with some new people, always looking over at Henry, who was talking to Paul and another friend in the opposite corner. He was looking over at you too, stealing glances.

“Excuse me”, you excused yourself from the little group and walked over to Henry. “Sorry, Henry, but could you tell me where the bathroom is?”, you asked him. “Sure. I’ll show you”, he said and with a hand on the small of your back, he led you out of the living room.

He led you upstairs, being right on your heels at all times, admiring your ass as you walked up in front of him. “It’s the last door on the right”, he told you and accompanied you until you were right in front of the door.

“Thank you”, you said and with that you pushed him against the wall and started kissing him. Henry’s surprise passed rather quickly. Not only did he kiss you back, he snaked his arm around your waist and spun you around so it was you who was pressed against the wall.

His tongue dove past your lips and played with yours. His arm was still around you while his other hand moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, holding you close to him. Your back arched off the wall, pressing against his front. You moaned into the kiss. You felt a tingling in your stomach as his thumb ran across the skin of your neck.

Your hand moved between your bodies, wandering down his hard abs and past the waistband of his jeans. Henry growled at your lips as you cupped his hardening cock from the outside, pressing his hips into your hand. You gulped at the size you felt. You were overcome with an urge to put your hand inside his pants.

You pulled your hand and your lips away from him at the same time. Henry’s eyes were glazed over and looked at you a bit rattled at the loss of contact. You reached over and opened the door of the bathroom. You walked inside and pulled Henry with you. When you closed the door behind you, you locked it before you turned around to him.

It was a big bathroom with a big tub and a separate shower next to it. “Nice bathroom”, you complimented when you took a look around. “Thanks”, he simply said. The next moment, your lips were captured by his again.

His hands moved under your blouse, exploring your skin with his big hands. You pressed up against him, feeling his growing bulge at your stomach. Your hands wandered to the zipper of his jeans. You opened the button and pulled down the zipper. You paused a second at every action to give him the chance to back out. You were glad he didn’t.

You let your hand wander into his briefs and cupped his bare cock. You were right, he was big. You closed your fingers around his girth and started pumping him slowly.

Henry pulled back and looked down to your hand in his pants, watching it move inside. “Fuck, Y/N”, he mumbled and closed his eyes for a second. You took the chance to admire his gorgeous face. When he opened his eyes again, your gazes met and you felt like the world around you didn’t exist anymore.

Henry started to open your jeans, also giving you every chance to back out, but you didn’t take it. His hand wandered into your panties while your hand was still around his cock. His fingers went down to your opening. His middle finger brushed over your clit and it made you gasp.

Your head fell forward, resting against his chest. His finger went even further and carefully dipped into your center. “So wet, already”, he mumbled at your temple as he pushed his finger further into you. The grip around his cock got tighter as your pussy clenched around his finger inside you.

You pulled his hard cock out of his briefs and pushed his pants further down to his knees. Henry removed his finger from you which made you frown for a second before you realized he was pushing your jeans down your legs as well. You let go of him to step out of your shoes and push your pants completely off but leaving your panties on.

You pushed Henry back until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bathtub. You pushed him down to sit on it and straddled his left thigh. You haven’t seen such a deliciously thick thigh on any man before. You needed to feel it between your legs.

Before you sat down completely, your own hand found its way into your panties, collecting some of your wetness on your fingers. When you finally sat down on his thigh, your wet fingers wrapped around his hard cock in front of you.

As you started rocking your hips back and forth, you also began pumping him in the same rhythm. Your free arm snaked around his neck, holding on to him for balance. His left arm wrapped around your back, pushing you against him when you moved back, helping you ride his thigh. His other hand ran up and down your naked thigh, squeezing the soft flesh.

He didn’t know if he should kiss you again or watch your hand jerk him off. You took the decision from him as you pressed your lips on his, your tongue exploring his mouth again.

You grinded your crotch harder into his thigh, your panties completely soaked at this point. Your hand moved fast over his cock, collecting the precum with your thumb and twisting your wrist over the big mushroom head.

You only let go of his cock to spit into your own hand, making it nice and wet for him. When you continued to pump him, you felt him throbbing in your hand.

“Fuck, where have you been all my life?”, Henry looked at you in awe. You threw your head back with a lewd smile on your lips, rocking your hips faster.

Henry’s lips latched onto your neck, kissing and licking your skin. It sent shivers right to your core. “Fuck, Henry, I’m gonna cum”, you whined and your hand around his neck found its way into his hair, pulling at them with a tight grip.

His hand around your back moved down to your ass and pushed you forward when you pushed back, guiding you over his thigh. You tried to match the movement of your hand on his cock with the fast pace of your hips.

“Y/N…”, Henry pressed out, his mouth falling open. His cock literally pulsated in your hand. Your head fell forward and you rested your forehead against his.

Your orgasms hit at the same time. You jerked on his thigh, squeezing it hard with your own thighs around it. Henry’s grip on your hips got tighter while he pushed his pelvis up, thrusting into your hand. You felt his cum dripping down your hand and you slowed your movement, being careful with his sensitive tip.

“Oh god”, you breathed out, trying to get your breath back to normal as you came down from your high. “Fuck, that was good”, Henry said and his cheeks were flushed just like yours.

You waited a moment before you got up from his thigh as you didn’t trust your own legs at this point. Henry used that moment of silence to kiss you again, much gentler this time.

You slowly got off of him, careful not to touch anything with your cum-covered hand. You walked over to the sink and washed it off with warm water.

Henry pulled his pants back up but stopped in his movements when he didn’t see you doing the same. He shot you a questioning look. “I actually need to go”, you said and looked at the toilet and back to him. “Oh”, Henry’s eyes got big as he realizes. He finished pulling his pants back up and closed the zipper. “I will let you get to it then”, he said and after giving you a quick peck on the lips, left the bathroom.

On your way back down, you suddenly got pulled into a room. It was Henry and it was his bedroom. "Is this your bedroom?", you still asked the obvious question. He hummed in response and his hands found your face, cupping your cheeks as he brought his lips to yours. You quickly deepened the kiss.

Your hands roamed his body. His lips felt good on yours but the rest was a bit too much. Even after what you just did. You were still overwhelmed by your surprisingly strong orgasm.

"Henry, I can't. It's too fast for me", you said and took a step back, inching closer to the door. Henry immediately let go of you, not wanting you to feel forced into anything you didn't want. "Of course. I'm sorry for just pulling you into this room", he apologized.

Even though it was quite dark in here, you knew he had that apologetic look on his face. "It's okay. I'm flattered by the intention", you told him as you walked up to him and kissed him on his lips. But you broke the kiss quite quickly this time.

"Let's go back downstairs before anybody assumes the worst", you mentioned and grabbed his hand. You interlaced your fingers with his and pulled him out of the room. "Let me take you on a proper date", he asked you before you reached the stairs.

"Really?", you asked, not able to take the hopeful undertone out of your voice. "Really", he nodded with an amused smile at your question. He bent forward and pressed another kiss to your lips before you got back downstairs to the others.

Julie gave you a certain look when you came back into the living room, the obvious question on her face. You just shook your head and sat down where you had been sitting before. Without having to ask for it, Henry brought you a new beer and you spent the rest of the night talking before you took a cab home.

Here is Part 3 (Third Date Rule)

#henry cavill #house party #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #acquaintances #part 2 #smut #fluff #imagine

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sweetdreamsofgelato · 4 years

Text

Stormy Nights

Pairing: Henry x Female!Reader

Summary: A nasty storm leaves you feeling scared and flustered, and Henry comforts you the best way he knows how.

Rating: T?, but edging closer toward M

Word Count: 1670

Warnings/Content: Anxiety, Smut-Adjacent (wandering hands, kissing, etc, but nothing terribly explicit, but it’s tagged as smut just in case), Fluff.

Prompt:

Anonymous said:

Hi! Can I request a Henry x reader when she and Kal are scared because of the thunderstorms and Henry comforts them? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in the request. It’s, of course, longer than I originally intended, so I apologise for the wait. I hope it meets with your expectations.

Unbeta-ed for the sake of haste, any errors are my own.

Reposting my works on any other sites or platforms is strictly prohibited. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

You gingerly pulled the curtain aside, peering into the storm raging outside. Rain lashed against the windows in a sharp staccato, the heavy drops collecting in swollen rivulets that sluiced down the glass. The wind howled and your grip on the fabric tightened as you shivered with unease. Trees violently bowed and swayed in the gusts that ripped through the night, battering the sides of the house and rattling the windows before dissipating like a wave on the beach, only to quickly return again.

Severe storms were rare, and this was the worst one you’d experienced in quite a while. Your anxiety grew as conditions rapidly worsened, and you weren’t alone in your discomfort. Kal paced restlessly in front of the door to the back garden. Occasionally pausing to sit, he shifted nervously on his haunches as he nosed along the bottom of the door, trying to catch any scent from Henry, who was still outside packing away and tying down anything that could become a projectile in the wind.

A flash of light streaked across the sky, electricity crackling in tendrils of fire over the inky, nebulous clouds. Your breath hitched in your throat; not a beat passed before a long, cacophonous roar echoed from all directions and everything plunged into darkness. Kal barked frantically in the din of the rumbling thunder. Dropping the curtain, your hands slid along the wall and groped in the dark. You followed the sound of the clicking of Kal’s nails on the wood floor, cursing loudly when you tripped on the corner of the plush living room rug. Relief flooded you when your knees bumped into the plump softness of Kal’s side.

“Hey, hey there. Shh, it’s okay.” Kal liked storms about as much as you did, which was – in a word– not at all.

Your heart raced and breath quickened as you whispered soft assurances. You slid to the floor and Kal surrounded you with warmth when he leaned into you. You gripped his thick, woolly fur like a life raft in the darkness. Quickly rubbing up his back, your fingers slid into the soft clefts behind his ears. You kept murmuring quietly to him, letting the gentle strokes soothe you both. Kal pressed his nose to your cheek and let out a low, despondent whine, nudging you with his snout while you shushed him through another crack of thunder.

The backdoor flew open, undoubtedly catching a fresh gust of wind, and banged noisily against the panelled wall. You could make out Henry’s towering silhouette in the frame; the beam from his torch swept across the room as he searched for you. A deep voice rose above the rumble of the storm and echoed off the walls.

“Everyone okay in here?” The question was clipped and edged with worry.

The backdoor slammed again and you startled at the sound. Kal was already off and barking madly. In the sporadic torrents of torchlight, you could see him circling about Henry’s legs in excitement.

The light landed on you, leaving you momentarily blinded. You raised your hand to shield your eye, “Yes, I’m fine.” Sort of. Not really, but you didn’t want him to fuss.

The swell of panic and adrenaline still coursed through your system: your breath quick, cheeks flushed, and hands clammy. Logically, you knew that there was nothing to fear which made the entire thing all the more shameful. Storms like this always left you jumpy and anxious, which you hated, but there was little to be done about it.

“How about you?” you asked. He was the one who had been out in the midst of it, after all.

“No worse for wear.” There were two distinct thuds followed by a frustrated grunt. “Battened down the hatches, but I don’t think this will let up any time soon. Best to hunker down and ride it out.”

“Aye Aye, Captain,” you replied, giving a playful salute. The tension in your shoulders eased slightly now that Henry was back inside with you.

Henry calmed Kal, who was still pacing nervously around him. There was a brief clattering from the direction of the utility cupboard before Henry emerged into the living room, a weathered plastic box labelled “emergency kit” in one hand and a camping lantern in the other. Its bluish glow illuminated the room enough to take in the state of him.

He was completely sodden, like a drowned rat washed up from a shipwreck. His matted mess of damp curls were plastered to his face. His skin glistened with moisture and his clothes, completely soaked through from the rain, clung desperately to the hard lines of his thick muscles. If he had an eyepatch and a sword, he’d make a very convincing pirate. At any other time, it would be quite an enticing sight to behold, but given the current circumstances, all you could think about was how he must be completely chilled and miserable.

There was another clap of thunder, and he watched intently as you hugged yourself, running your palms nervously over your upper arms.

“Are you okay?” he repeated, his tone demanding the truth this time.

“You know how I get.” You shrugged, jumping when another flash of lightning lit up the windows.

Without another word, Henry ushered you upstairs. Kal was hot on your heels, bounding up in great leaps as he pushed in front of you, likely aiming to claim prime real estate on the bed.

Once inside your bedroom, Henry deposited the lantern and box on the dresser. “Get cosy with Kal. There are candles and matches in the emergency kit if you need. I’m going to shower and change, but I’ll be right back.” Henry paused and waited for your approval, then dropped a quick kiss on your forehead and disappeared into the ensuite bathroom.

The harsh light from the lantern made you edgy, so you made quick work of lighting a handful of plain, waxy pillar candles. They bathed the room in a comforting whimsical glow. If not for the howling wind and rattling windows, it would be quite romantic. Perhaps it was anyway, but your nerves felt too raw to even enjoy it.

When Henry finally returned, you had already changed into a long nightshirt and were snug in the nest of downy blankets. Kal was by your side, and you idly caressed his ears while you attempted to distract yourself with some reading.

“Well, isn’t this a vision.” Desire laced the low murmur. He leaned against the door frame, rubbing a fluffy terry cloth towel over his hair.

“I could say the same.” You tipped the book down, shamelessly taking in the full picture of him. He was the embodiment of sin, and he showed no hint of remorse.

Henry’s smile was completely self-indulgent; he quickly discarded the towel, forgoing night clothes as usual, and padded toward the bed. Kal rolled to expose his massive belly, and after some love and reassurance from Henry, he reluctantly moved to his own bed across the room. Henry slipped under the duvet and gathered you to him, curling around you possessively.

“I never get tired of seeing you in my bed.” His breath whispered over your ear. His lips brushed lightly against the line of your neck, sending a pleasurable shiver across your nerves.

You purred, abandoning your book as you melted into him. He was impossibly warm; his skin still pleasantly flushed and hair slightly damp from the shower. He smelled of gently scented soap and something distinctly and ineffably Henry.

“And I never tire of being in it.”

The storm continued to rage outside, but Henry kneaded every tense muscle and met every nervous shudder with a gentle but overwhelming sense of safety. You released a long, contented sigh, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that evening.

“I’m sorry I left you alone.”

His fingers toyed with the buttons of your nightshirt, deftly flicking them open. The fabric fell away, and his hands teased across your skin. Unhurried lines of barely-there touches that traced from your bare thighs and over the swell of your hip. His large palm splayed across your stomach, dragging slowly until the tip of his thumb brushing the underside of your breasts.

“It was necessary. Besides, Kal and I had each other.” Your eyes fluttered shut, losing yourself in the tender suggestiveness of his touch, and your lips parted as you drew a shuddered breath.

“Yes well,” his hand continued its journey, snaking around your back and digging into your supple flesh as he nipped gently at your shoulder, “I hated every second.”

“Now you’re just indulging me,” you teased, opening your eyes again.

“My life’s purpose.” He continued his slow, provoking touches and drank in your every reaction. When your teeth caught your lower lip, a low growl rumbled in his chest and his gaze grew dark with want. His hand travelled upward again, coming to rest at the base of your throat. His fingertips curled around your neck, tangling in your hair, as his thumb gently pressed into the sensitive juncture of your clavicle.

The pressure drew a throaty whimper from you, and he caught it with his mouth. It was a leisurely and drugging kiss, each pull and nip at your lips leaving your brain deliciously foggy. Every nerve stood on end as heat slithered across your skin, your cheeks aflame with it. You panted and whined, throwing your leg over his hip in a desperate attempt to draw him closer.

Henry pulled away, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek before he reached across you to grab your long-forgotten book.

“So, what were you reading?”

You groaned impatiently, scrambling to pull his body back to yours, “You’re such a tease, Cavill. Don’t you dare leave me like this.”

The storm thundered faintly in the distance and he smiled wolfishly, “I want to be the only reason you are ever flustered.”

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#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill smut #henry x you #henry x y/n #smut #rpf #sweetdreamsofgelato writes #fic: stormy nights

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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years

Text

Perfect Little Size Queen

You and Clark finally do the deed you learn something about yourself in the process.

Masterlist

Warnings: Adult Situations +18, Smut,Size difference, Oral (f), Over Stimulation

A/n:So I fell into a smut slump...Not sure why or how but damn it was not fun any who here ya go!! this might be the last Clark one for a while, got some Bruce Wayne coming and two quarantine Henry ones and J/LxTeen...and just a quick question how do you feel about a possible ddlg Homelander series? been toying with that any way Enjoy xx

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters @magdelen69

Perfect Little Size Queen You giggled stealing kisses all the way home in the cab, he chuckled clearing his throat when he noticed the driver watching in the mirror then pulled back from you, following you settled your head on his chest grinning up at him, you were over the moon, he had chose you, he loved you and it made you feel on top of the world. "So you feel better now?" You nodded shyly then nuzzled Into his chest poking your nose into the open top buttons kissing his chest making him groan a little. He pulled your knees across his placing you on his lap even in thin position you bearly reached his eye level. He smirked at you holding you close to his chest letting you leave small kisses and nips on his neck peeling back the collar of his shirt dragging your tongue playfully along the revealed skin sucking small opened mouth kisses making him tense then lowered his mouth to your ear clasping your hips tight.

"Carefull with your teasing baby, you might get more than you bargined for" You shivered then nipped at his nose a little

"You promise?" He pulled back shaking his head

"Just keep pushing babe" you bit your lip and nodded grinding down on his lap earning a hushed grunt as his cock stiffened twitching against your ass...Oh he was going to make you pay for that when you got back, biting back a chuckle two could play at this game he wrapped his arm around your waist tugging the tight pencil skirt of the dress up your legs as far as it could go slipping his hand between your legs holding your thigh then pressed higher further up your leg the skirt tightened trapping your legs around his hand as he moved his wrist making sure his thumb tucked tightly against your mound teasing your folds lightly as you grinded making you gasp and freeze stopping your light rocking he smiled kissing your jaw.

"Whats the matter?" whatever you was going to say was cut of by a gasp as he pressed harder thumb slipping past your folds to rest on your tight engorged clit, flushed you opted to stay still for the rest of the ride home, he however did not choosing to flick his thumb every now and then catching your clit with soft flicks making you arch into him, but he caught you every time tucking you back into place shaking his head at you as he tortured you curling his pointer finger back and forth slipping it tight against your dripping little hole.

"C-Clark I'm sorry-please I am stop" he huffed a laugh as you arched and wriggled again trying to loosen your skirt that bound your legs together tightly around his hand but it was no use his wrist had hiked up the hem and you couldn't escape his wandering fingers without ripping the seam of the dress, which was already fighting for dear life against his strong fore arm that was pulling at it. you whined when he laughed at you.

"Fucking yank!" he really did laugh at that

"Not very lady like was it love?"

"Fuck you!" you growled at him having just about enough of his teasing he smiled

"I intend to love" you all but melted as he twitched his fingers again tilting his hand to run the pads of his fingers against you rubbing slow tight circles around on your lips parting them and pressing one single pad to your clenching hole leaving it there still as you moved lightly your walls tried to capture him through the thin fabric of of your panties and he laughed again retreating slightly the pressed hard swiping over the ring of muscle in once slow hard press then pulled back fully tugging down your dress to thanking the driver. You'd arrived at the apartment Clark quickly paid for the cab then shuffled you out onto unsteady legs you blushed red as he righted you standing behind you ushering you into the building. You grunted hissing at Clark as he shoved you face first into the door your hands fumbled with your bag as you tried opening it to retrieve his keys he smiled against your neck pressing harder your breasts firm against the wood. Your gasp became a whine when he grinded into your ass tucking below you thrusting up forcing your back to arch letting you rest on his hips ,his cocks outline threatening and teasingly, tucked into the seam of your cheeks he wound an arm across your hips holding you against him.

"Need some help love?" he said pulling a hand up to help diving in finding the keys to his home you cursed placing both palms flat to the door keening as his voice became a low vibration hummed into the skin of your neck making your skin rise in goose bumps your bag slid into the crook of your elbow he moved his hips slowly angling them he chuckled against your spine making you shiver then moved forward unlocking the door lifting you up making sure you didn't fall into the hall. you found your self pushed into the hall hearing him kick the door behind you closed hard enough it making the walls shake he cursed quietly to himself willing himself to calm down and keys hit the floor. You giggled at him as his hands found your body exploring in long firm sweeps of his hot palms smoothing and digging at your body as his hot eager tongue lather's your neck in slow drawn out swipes of his you mewled rocking into him panting already,pulling back he spun you to face him so fast that you was all but spun out of your heels now standing flat on the cool wooden floor soothing the ache in the soles of your feet, you both took a second taking each other in pupils blown wide and breathing heavy he moved again stalking forward backing you up against into the sideboard that sat behind the sofa quick fingers finding his buttons as he craned his neck down and kissed your open mouth heating your mouth tongue tasting of the sweet wine he'd been drinking all night it was an addictive taste, one hand came up prying your wrap from your shoulder dragging your bag as he slipped it down your arm dropping both onto the sofa behind you. You moaned into his mouth raising your arms to help free him of his shirt pulling it across his shoulders letting it fall from his arms somewhere behind him tentatively you brought your hands back up skimming his chest then locked your fingers at the back of his neck pulling him closer you both pulled back for air, eyes locking before wandering across his chest he had a small smattering of hair that flowed down in a thin line highlighting the best abs you'd ever seen, the muscles rolled further still to a deep v that directed you to a dark patch of hair that joined the thin streak from his chest. With a cheeky grin he slowly placed his hand on your back tugging the zip down slowly ghosting his other hand behind it eagerly tracing the soft skin following slipping under the fabric caressing the skin making you shiver as he raised goose bumps on your skin slipping the dress down as he went finally stopping at your waist where the belt was holding it snug to your slim waist you moved to release the buckled but he batted you away smirking then whispered in your ear

"Ah Ah this is mine to unwrap" he said leaving a light kiss on your neck then tugged harshly nearly pulling you off the floor completely you moaned gasping when you flooded your panties at the raw strength he showed as he tugged again freeing the buckle then he lowered the zip fully taking it to your ass he pulled gently not wanting to rip the material shimmying you out of the tight dress letting it fall in a heap on the floor as much as he loved you in the dress he prefered you like this naked bar your sheer panties, perfect mounds of soft flesh each crowned with dusky pink nipples hard and aching for attention. He groaned taking a step forward kicking the dress and belt far behind him with one foot, any self doubt you had was gone he looked eager and awed by you drinking you in heaving deep breaths moving a trembling hand to your chest you shivered as he grazed a finger on the underside of your breast taking a sharp breath as your nipple tightened visibly without warning next thing you new you were placed on the sideboard legs dangling and he was standing between admiring your breasts lavishing them with gentle touches making you gasp and moan quietly just as he went to dive in you stopped him placing the tips of your nails on his abdomen.

"One second, I have to get this off first love" he tilted his head questioningly then shivered as you raked your nails over his chest much like you did to his back at night. you moved slow untying your bandanna letting it fall to the sofa then began pulling out the bobby pins that held your hair up, Clark moved delicately helping with the last few shaking his head at the small mountain of clips your hair was hiding then you dropped them into a small bowl on the sideboard that had been for keys you moved to rake your fingers through your hair only to have him beat you to it. You moaned as his huge hands lightly combed your hair massaging your sore scalp.

"You like that?" you nodded melting under his firm but gentle fingers loosening your hair fighting away the ache that came after a well secured vintage style, finally he pulled away letting your hair fall in softer curls around your face he moved to cup your face leaving a long kiss on your lips then moved a hand behind you gathering the hair at your nape puling you back you flailed your arms and legs as your ass nearly slipped off the wood only for his groin to stop you pressing on yours, you moaned your thin sheer panties doing nothing to shield his dress pants from your aching core your cheeks heated you knew that you were going to leave a wet spot again but couldn't care less as his free hand returned to your chest pinching at your nipples trying to pull them from you making them harder than they've ever been you grabbed his shoulders wanting something to anchor yourself to him. He pulled away undoing his dress pants stepping out of them

"Your so beautiful" the words were whispered against your lips breathless and sincere

"And you are the most stunning man I've ever met" he kissed you looking up smiling at him you held your arms out to him

"Clark take me to bed" he grinned

"Yes ma'am" you laughed at the country slur he cast a cheeky grin and scooped you up not needing to turn on the light he made his way through the apartment bouncing you across his cock with each step making your toes curl as your lips wandered to his upper chest sucking harshly intent on leaving as many marks as you could on him while you could. He placed you in the middle of the bed crouching over you tilting your hips up dragging your panties down realizing that he’d have to move away to pull them off he grinned against you ear and tore them you pulled back from his chest leaving your nice new red mark as you felt the fabric give way.

"C-Clark really?" he laughed shrugging moving back shifting dropping his own boxers.

"They were in my way" you scoffed

"Suppose I should be grateful my dress survived then huh? muscle man?" he laughed tugging you down the bed standing up at the foot of the bed

"Well it was touch and go for a while, was going to make a nice split in the cab but I want to see you in it again some time" you laughed loud as he crawled onto the bed settling on his knees between your legs you both stopped for a moment panting taking a second to calm down a little drinking each other in. You flushed eyes dropping to his impressive length bobbing between his powerful thighs an almost frightening looking cock, thick and angry looking a dark red and veiny you shivered in anticipation he had a huge purple tip that looked ready to do some damage, you almost felt sorry for your poor little cervix already knowing it was 'cruising for a bruising' his cock bobbed every now and then rising proud hitting his stomach leaving small wet patches as he was already weeping his tight muscles tense ready to fuck you into oblivion. you shied away a little he was big and you were tiny, only now trying to think of exactly how this was going to work. Sensing your trepidation he moved over you kissing you lightly then ghosted his nose across your neck whispering in your ear.

"You'll be fine babe I promise, we will go slow please trust me" you tilted your head to his nodding the hissed a breath.

"I-I'm not that experienced....had sex but only twice and they were.....nothing like you boys really I thought I could just suck it up but...." you looked down ashamed but Clark felt his heart burst he felt eager to show you, teach you all the different things he could do to you.

"Then we can explore together....I've never been with someone so tiny but we will just be careful" you nodded whining a little he pulled back hiking your legs high dropping to his stomach you yelped at the sudden move you flushed as he widened your legs pulling your outer lips apart making you leak onto his sheets you flexed feeling the cool air on your opening he bit his bottom lip then moved in making you screech as he lapped at your swollen clit he tucking his hands over your thighs as you tried closing them tugging harshly making sure to hold back but still not leaving you any wiggle room you were here now at his mercy and he would force you to stay that way until he saw fit.

"Ah-OH GOD! Clark I've never-UUHHH SHIT YESyesyesyes please I cant-ClaaAARKAH!" you tired arching as the tip of his tongue rolled around your clit playfully prodding and swiping hard and soft in no particular pattern just a random incredible rhythm, you threw your head back moaning when he finally lapped at your clenching hole swiping over it in hard strokes catching your clit each time you felt yourself weeping onto his waiting tongue he grunted pulling you firmer to his mouth diving in sucking obscenely humming into you, you blushed feeling your walls latching onto him.

"AH~F-fuuck Clark oo-ugh pleasepleaseplease I-IcANT OHOHSHIT CLAAARRK!" you cried out as he held you still feasting on you growling into you making you gasp as hes low tone vibrated you making you shiver then he pulled back to nip at your clit again you tried bucking again but to no avail digging your feet into the mattress trying to find purchase you screamed then his teeth left a harsh imprint on the base of your clit pulling it through his teeth, a hand snuck up into you thrusting one then two finally adding a third he spread them apart inside stretching you beyond what you thought you were capable of you cried throwing your head side to side as the fingers explored as he sucked on your clit watching you try to fight his hold made his cock weep onto the sheets below him, he was sure he'd cum across them if he didn't hurry up, determined to make you cum he used his little cheat pulling away he looked across your pelvis then activated his x-ray vision and smirked as he peered into your body trying to locate the small patch of nerves that would really make you scream, quickly he found it then moved back down to your clit latching on with a deathlike grip suckling and flicking it with his tongue angling his fingers up and to the left, a loud gruntal moan was his reward for finding it finally with a loud scream you trembled unable to control yourself as you released over his face confused as hell as it had come out of no where, he didn't stop right away far to happy lapping at you growling low into you making you twitch.

"NonoNONOno please thats- SHIT CLARK that’s enough pleaseplease FUUUUUCK!" you screeched loud and high trying to buck him off unable to fight the grip he had on you you cried tears falling as the over stimulation became a hot sting on your clit as you could only lay there trembling sobbing and begging him to relent you moaned panting short heavy puffs of air unable to get enough in your lungs eventually he did stop smirking at you when he saw your body trembling still.

"So I hope you enjoyed that....because you taste amazing and that will be a regular thing" you sighed relieved when he'd pulled back sitting up licking his lips you laid your arms across your head still trying to catch your breath

"Fuck you and your mouth" he laughed smug

"I think you'll find you fucked my mouth first love" he grinned catching the leg you tried to kick out at him with then kissed the calf with a chuckle before collecting the other one placing your knees at his shoulders dragging your ass down the bed resting his heavy cock on your mound he groaned looking at just how far he was going to reach before you could catch your breath he moved quickly placing the head of his cock at your tiny opening you flinched moving your arm away he moved forward your knees slipping to his elbows he placed his arms just over your shoulders he leaned down letting his weight press down onto you as he let your core kiss him lightly you looked at him uncertain but was to lost from your orgasm to do much else settling to lean up and kiss him giving him your own form of encouragement. He looked down double checking smiling you were exactly as he wanted you slowly he breached you, guiding himself into your hot tight body grunting hissing between his teeth you molten walls snatching him trying to suckle him deeper already, your eyes widened at the feeling of him barely inside but causing a delicious burn you arched a little then forced yourself to relax he kissed you curling over you resting his head against yours pressing a little slipping deeper you panted as he buried himself further forcing your body to accept him whining finding the burning sting addictive something about being forced to take him in his entirety made you weak some female weakness you didn't quite understand, you moaned breathlessly when you felt yourself being full slowly inch by inch. He watched you carefully ready to pull back at the first sign of true pain but for now he relished in the feel of you squeezing him tight causing the tiny pain he craved for a truly mind blowing orgasm watching with wide eyes unable to believe the pleasure you found in his painful looking penetration, the deeper he went to wider your mouth fell open gasping silent cries trying to escape but couldn't seem to leave your throat you arched again swallowing more and more of him, he couldn't look away as your fingers clawed at the sheets below you. You panted quick breaths then seemed to hold your breath he stopped thinking this was your limit as your legs tensed

"A-Are you okay love do you want me to-"

"IF you stop now your a fucking dead man" you growled out throwing your head back panting he froze unsure what to do so you did it for him pressing yourself down onto him more, he grunted shifting himself higher tensing his hands as he pressed harder hitting something deep making you grunt and moan.

"Fuck! CLARK! please so that again! oh god" he hissed through his teeth feeling you clench him he pulled back slowly then moved forward bumping into it again a quick use of his eye he saw it was in fact your cervix he had hit he cursed a little, it was tempting, to tempting to just rut up into you impale you deeper than you'd ever experienced a deep part of him all to eager to fuck you like he had dreamed, to coat your deepest depths with his seed making sure you felt him dripping for days. He shuddered groaning shaking his head, no he could hurt you, next time or the time after. You moaned arching up to him as he laid closer his pubic bone grazing your sore clit making you hiss a little he smiled down at you.

"You okay there?" you blushed nodding

"Yeah its... your big it stings-pulls?but, I like it feels like- nevermind" he smirked tilting his head at you grunting as your walls pulled at him again

"No tell me love" you trembled shaking your head he moved down resting his head on yours

"OH someones embarrassed now I really want to know" you looked at him flustered

"L-Like I'm owned, and I like it" then turned your head pouting a bit waiting for him to laugh at you

"Good because I cant wait to claim you, to own you and mark you from the inside, Ah you really like that, I can tell, your trying to suck me in" you whined closing your eyes feeling your blood rush to your face, you couldn't help it his words just did something to you, he chuckled a little then moved in kissing you slowly before bracing himself on his hands pulling back then began to thrust into you, you moved grunting as he massaged your walls one hand gripped his thigh feeling the strong muscle work as he started to feel more at ease thrusting faster building you up for another incredibly mind numbing orgasm you held on to him as he moaned and panted growling in your ear.

"F-FUck thats SOO GOOD shit baby YESYESYES UGH I can’t shit babe fuck ugh ugh your so perfect,better then i thought" you cried out as his cock rubbed against the spot he had found earlier pelvis flicking against your clit, you tensed and screamed as he pounded away losing himself inside you he moved higher pushing your legs further back then you felt it you panicked for a second but not long as he bottomed out you let out a high moan as he fucked up into your cervix the pain and pleasure rolled into one and seemed to be just what you needed as your body shuddered around him trying to milk you came over him he didn't seem to notice he hissed to lost to realize what had just happened only knowing that something had trapped the head of his cock and wasn't letting go, he moaned deep in his chest panting and desperate continuing to rut up into that painfully tight ring you cried out as his assault drove you right into another climax.

"Fuckfuckfuck-CLaAARK PLEEAASE...I-I cant take-ANYMORE shit-ITS TO MUCH FUCKAHAHAAHH!" you couldn't stop the third climax a boiling rush of heat hitting al, of your nerves at once making you tense screaming out for more your walls coiled around him clenching trying to make sense of the man who continued fucking you deep into the bed your body was alive or dying you couldn't really tell by this point sobbing as your tired muscles continued to endure his lust, he was chasing his own powerful end determined to feed you his load as deep as he could grunting as you squeezed him your body wanting to hold him still and force him to cum to put an end to his cruel mastery of your body, finally he thrust forward balls pressing tight against your ass you felt them pull taught against you as he started to unload into you he huffed a laugh groaning loud feeling his cum leave him in think spurts grunting at the force he opened his eyes he lost control not only releasing his cum inside of you but also his restraint burning two holes into the wood of the bed only just capturing it before it reached the wall he panicked for a second thinking you'd seen but that was forgotten as he saw you had your eyes squeezed shut tightly as you released one final time alongside him twisting below his hips as he rubbed against your clit with every breath. you opened your lust hazed eyes moaning at him. He panted laughing sitting up running his hands through his hair, that was the best sex he ever had, never and he meant never had he lost control so much or came so hard, he even doubted he could go again yet, which was definitely saying something. you smiled moving a hand to him walls still twitching around holding him still, he lowered himself over you again letting you legs fall down around his. you hissed as they did the new angled making your insides hurt from the way he'd stuffed you full.

"Your a prick you know that? I mean what am I meant to do now?"you groaned he froze unsure if you were upset with him and if so why you sensed his anxiety and giggled at him.

"Fucking ruined me for other men! I mean how fucking dare you Clark Kent? turn me into a size queen!! you ablosute brute-" you broke of into peels of laughter as he tickled you smothering you with kisses

"Well how about that then? my very own perfect little Size queen" he winked making you blush as he pressing his weight on you again making you groan and spasm around him again

"Fuck and your still trying to suck me in deeper babe!" you whined embarrassed it wasn't like you could help it...It just happened he chuckled then pulled back gently easing himself out in one long slow tug you hissed at him tender and sensitive there was a deep pop before he was fully released he was still slow as he freed himself from you looking down he hissed a little you looked...very sore and swollen he felt guilty especially when there was a smug surge of pride as he gazed at your thoroughly fucked pussy, you watched him seeing his expression change you didn't want to look you didn't have to...You knew, instead you pulled his face up to you smiling.

"I love you honey...Don't worry about it I loved every second" you pulled him down to lay flush against you placing a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"I love you to so much, that was the best sex I've ever had" you flushed at him.

"Well I don't see how I just sort of laid there....sorry" he moved beside you tucking you up into his arms kissing your head.

"Don't apologize babe it was wow mind blowing, besides I don't think you could have kept up with me" you rolled your eyes at him resting against his chest.

"Clark? whats wrong?" he tugged the blanket over you

"...Are you okay? I didn't hurt you?" You shook your head at him yawning.

"No.....Bit sore but in a good way....I'm on the pill by the way....Just thought I'd mention that" he gave a fake pout

"So all that cum gone to waste?" You nipped at his nipple by your head making him twist away and laugh.

"Hey no biting!" you smirked and tried again he rolled his eyes as your teeth missed biting air, you closed your eyes and snuggled into him again.

"...No where near ready for kids....In my life or this relationship" He smiled rubbing your back a little his warm hand soothing your worn out muscles, you moaned and slouched over him more giving him access to more of your back he took the hint bringing his other hand up letting the tips of his fingers trace over it even in your drowsy state you could tell he was writing his name over and over you smiled, his low voice reverberated through your chest as he spoke making you melt.

"I know that I was teasing, come on get some sleep you look fucked..." there was a pause before you both snorted chuckling at his words you peeked an eye open lazily.

"Really?" he shrugged laying his head back genuinely tired slinging an arm across your back holding you close it wasn't long before your breathing slowed and you was asleep he sighed content then looked above him to the two singed holes he had left, that would have to be controlled...but for now he was just glad you hadn't noticed....or been in his sights. He would have to watch it some part of him hoped it was just because it was his first time with you, contrary to what you might have thought he was very nervous about having sex with you and thought he may have lost that tightly held control in some mix of relief and pleasure. Telling himself it was a one off...A fluke either way it had to be addressed if it happened again he may find that he has to explain the whole superman thing and really he would prefer to keep it a secret a little while longer. Closing his eyes he shimmied down into the pillows letting the rhythm of your heart beat lull him to sleep.

You woke up bleary eyed not sure for a second where you was rolling over you grimanced when you laid in a large wet spot cursing then blushed a little as last night came rushing back, you moved over looking across the bed Clark wasn't here moving your hand you felt it was cold so where ever he was he had been there for a while, sitting up you winced holding onto your tummy curling your torso slightly, you were sore....very sore you looked down out of curiosity and noticed how red you was...swollen there was no denying what you'd been up to the night before, you spun around letting your feet dangle off the side of the bed then turned your head trying to listen out for Clark .Ah shower. You got up on shaky feet grunting softly when you stood up fully, you felt like you had period cramps and pulled muscles all in one...But would you do it again fuck yes! absolutely....Just not today. you slowly made your way to the bathroom seeing his huge frame in the shower.

"Fucking-shit OH GOD BABE! yes....UGGHH Y/N!yesyesYESSSUGHUHUHUH!" you flushed he was faced away from you but you knew exactly what he was doing as his back tensed moving harshly into his hand, you licked your lips the thought of him having to sneak away to sort himself out made you shiver feeling thoroughly pleased and smug, you'd done that to this gorgeous man and fuck if you wasn't proud of your self, he groaned cursing before spreading his legs again moving his arm again, you crept up behind him stepping into the shower behind him placing a hand on his back.

"Need help babe?" he scoffed tilting his head to you as you poked your head around him

"Well it is your fault~" he said with raised eyebrows he noticed you moving slow and wincing a little and frowned.

"Are you okay? shit I knew I was to much hold on there-" you waved your hand at him dismissively.

"Whats the point of sex if you don't feel it for a few days after...Hey Clark look at me love....You haven't hurt me okay? don't worry, I mean fuck sake we're designed to pop out kids a little rough sex is fuck all now stay still I want to help" he didn't look convinced moving his hands to your hips as you stood in front of him slowly reaching out cupping him gently he hissed and arch into your cool hand. You smiled moving your hand across him circling him relishing in the harsh throb of his cock he couldn't help releasing a loud moan, you noticed he was covered in his own release making you raise your brows a bit.

"Oh baby~ how long have you been in here struggling with this? you should have called me" he whined in his throat nodding he really should have. you moved twisting your wrist as you went and brought your other hand below him tickling the underneath with your nails being careful not to scratch him he grunted pressing both his palms to the tiles either side of you with a wet slap you giggled teasing him then sped up but not enough to let him come just yet holding him firmer in your hands one hand moving to his balls rolling them around massaging your fingers in slow circles then squeezing, he grunted thrusting into your hand panting and biting his lip trying to hold in his high moans his face began flushing red as he moved closer to you his weeping head tapping at you stomach making him throw his head back crying out you joined him.

"That’s it baby....Oh love are you going to cum?...will you cum for me Clark you know you want to just let go love, I can see your ready to....You can paint my stomach I promise I wont mind you getting me all messy....baby oh its not enough is it?" he shook his head begging breathlessly for you to make him cum, you watched as the red flush he had built up in his face seeped down to his chest as his muscled quivered, you tutted and ran your thumb across his tip letting your nail just graze his slit making his hips stutter giving you total control again.

"Wow you really are sensitive.....I know maybe this will help~" you grinned evilly deciding to push him a little further you moved your hand from his balls and directed the shower spray to cover your hand he mewled loud into the room knees nearly buckling as the water sprayed over his cock adding to the pleasure that wracked his body.

"PL-please I need it to-FUCK HURt make it hurt I CAN'T FUCK" he moved his head resting it on the tiles above you..Hurt? you gulped he wanted it to hurt you licked your lips as he trembled hanging his head low panting down on to you as you began working him faster with both hands, this has got to be the hottest thing you'd ever seen in your life, he grunted trying to keep pace but shook his head.

"NO! y/n nononono its-its to much ohGOD FUCK NO BABE pleaseplease I'm gonna cum I'm gonna cum fuckfuckfuck!" you smiled holding his base tight squeezing pressing his tip pinching it harshly letting your nails dig in a little to give him the pain he had begged for and dragged it across your stomach.

"Cum! Cum for me Clark now!" he moaned hips unsteadily trying to fuck your hands as he cried out panting as he covered your stomach he panted growling unable to stop as he seemed to loose control, ropes of cum drenching your soft skin he let his head fall to yours as you looked up at him his eyes were closed body trembling, he looked sated and unsteady. You giggled moving to wrap your arms around him in case he decided to stack it.

"Hey...You alright there honey?...You know if you fall there is no way I cant support you, you big lug.... I mean I'd try but we'd both end up on our ass with a broken bone or two then we'd have to call an ambulance somehow....I don't want other people to see me naked..." he laughed moving his hair from his eyes moving to hold you tight against him growling into your shoulder.

"Neither do I.....I'm flattered you'd at least try to catch me tho...Lets clean you up,Ive made a bit of a mess.." you raised an eyebrow and looked at the soiled wall beside you.

"yeah... should probably clean that up to" he blushed shrugging

"Couldn't help it....You were grinding on my in your sleep....Humping really you were having a good dream I think." you gasped at him turning red making him laugh

"I WAS FUCKING NOT!! don't try to blame me for you being a-a fucking turbo spunk machine!and your mum called you a gentleman!!" he held you closer laughing then spun you around using the shower spray to wash away his cum from you and the wall before lathering up a cloth with a sweet smelling fruity soap running it over you washing you making you relax as his washing became more of an all over massage you shivered as he moved to your breast cupping them being very thorough teasing your nipples a little then moving on you whined when he ran the cloth over your red folds hissing as even the lightest touch made you squirm he sighed kissing your shoulder then moved you tilting your head back under the spray he moved collecting your hair lathering shampoo into it using his fingertips to really scrub your scalp clean you had to press onto the wall to stop from falling over as you pressed your head back into his hands moaning you melted under his fingers it was over to quick when he rinsed your hair then it was your turn taking the cloth you lathered it with a clean smelling gel let you take over washing him you'll admit you spent longer on his ass then needed but...It was a great ass and you hadn't got much time grabbing it... So it wasn't your fault you sighed content rubbing his thighs not really wanting to stop enjoying yourself taking your time tracing your hands across every hard muscle you could find and there was a lot... finally you couldn't draw it out anymore you tilted your head holding the shampoo bottle looking up at him....How the fuck? you blinked at him you needed up.

"Up" he raised a brow at your demand crossing his arms at you

“I’m sorry what?” you sighed stomping your foot holding out your arms

“up now? please” he shook his head and smiled before lifting you up letting you wrap your legs around him you winced a little but kept with it.

"Can you reach now?" you smiled leaning in to kiss him sweetly

"Yes thank you babe, just realized your going to come in handy...your going to have to come shopping with me...what's it like being able to reach the top shelf?" he shook his head at you

"Tell you what next time we go shopping I'll lift you up and you can see for yourself, how does that sound?"

"Embarrassing but I’m in yolo and all that, and they tell you off when you climb to!" he chuckled then held still as you squeezed out some shampoo dropping the bottle carelessly on the floor causing an obscenely loud bang making him sigh.

"What I've got a job to do" you moved his head back then smoothed his hair back he sighed as your nails raked through his hair scratching his scalp as you worked the shampoo threw his dark locks you laughed at to look on his face reminding you of a cat getting head scratches eyes closed and thoroughly enjoying himself you shook your head as you rinsed him off.

"There we go babe all done" he kissed you deeply moaning into you tangling his tongue with yours you clutched at him then winced as you shifted your pussy throbbing. Pulling back you smiled reassuringly to him.

"How about a lazy day today? well lazy I've got one final chapter to finish, about three pages? then send it off to my publisher to check" he nodded leaving the shower turning it off before wrapping you up in two large fluffy towels fresh from the heated towel rack. It wasn't long before you found yourself in one of his shirts lounging on the sofa watching tv nuzzling into him breathing him in content.

#clark kent imagine #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #clark kent smut #superman x you #superman x reader #superman smut #dc x reader #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x you

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princess-of-riviaa · 4 years

Text

Inflicting Misery: Chapter 7

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Pairing: August Walker x Reader

Summary: After being deceived, August is furious with you. He teaches you a lesson the best way he knows how.

Warning(s): overstimulation, toys, bondage, mean dom!August, markings, rough sex

Word Count: 2,829

“We need to go back to HQ,” you tell August as both of your doors slam shut to his car. “Sloane has things to discuss with you.”

“Sloane can wait.” There’s anger in his voice that you’ve only heard a handful of times in the entire decade you’ve known him. Usually he can keep his cool enough to maintain a neutral tone. Only when he’s furious does he forget to wear his mask of cool indifference. So the fact that he’s not speaking indifferently now… A knot forms in your stomach. Clearly your master plan to get him to confess his feelings hadn’t gone over so well.

You reach for your door, but he locks the car and gasses it. Within a few seconds you’re flying down the highway. There’s no way for you to escape now. The ride is spent in silence. When August finally parks the car, it’s in front of an unfamiliar apartment complex.

“Where--” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“Get out and follow me,” he spits.

You hesitate, half-mesmerized by the ice in blue eyes and half-terrified.

“Disobey me. See where it gets you.”

You swallow. He’s mad enough as it is; you don’t want to piss him off further. So you listen. He walks into the building with ease, like he’s done this a thousand times before. Maybe he used to live here, before Norway. But no--August holds himself in a way that tells you he’s been here more recently.

“What is this place?” you ask once the elevator doors shut, trapping you inside a very small space with a very pissed off, very intimidating man.

“An apartment building,” he remarks.

You don’t bother to waste your energy on rolling your eyes. “What is this place to you, August?”

“My name is--” He begins, then stops himself. Henry, he was going to say. My name is Henry. He frowns, as if suddenly realizing that he’s lost Henry as quickly as he gained the persona. “I used to live here.”

“What do you have here that’s important enough for you to fly out of the country to visit?” you wonder.

He looks at you, surprise flashing in his eyes, then it disappears when he realizes he shouldn’t have been surprised at all--you’ve always been good at reading people. “I kept tabs on people when I was in Norway. That was one of the few habits I couldn’t seem to break. I’d stay here, in this building, whenever I came back to check on someone.”

“That’s how you knew about Hayden,” you realize. August had been here, keeping tabs on him. Watching him grow up and grow into a family that would always feel like his own.

He’s silent. He doesn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer.

Had he been keeping tabs on anyone else? Had he been watching you? The knot in your stomach is proof that you want that to be true, that you want him to have checked in on you.

The elevator finally slows. The doors open with a ding and reveal a wide, open space. It’s a living room, you realize, decorated with lavish couches and blankets. The entire back wall is made of glass. You can see the city of D.C. for miles, the streets and buildings alive with the loud buzz of human life. August didn’t just have an apartment--he had a loft, and a gorgeous one at that. He tugs on your arm with an inescapable grip and drags you down the hall.

The last door on the right opens to reveal... a sex chamber? That’s the only way you can think to describe it. There’s a queen-sized bed in the center, pressed up against the far wall. The four posters are made of deep oak wood. A strange-looking swing is in the left corner. You wonder if that’s what a sex swing looks like; you’ve heard of them but never actually seen one, though you wouldn’t be surprised if August owns one. On the right wall is an armory of ropes, floggers, and other things you don’t recognize. A dresser is pressed against the wall and you don’t think you want to know what’s in there.

“Still love me?” August spits it like an insult.

Do you still love him? You almost laugh at the ridiculous question. “You really think all of this will scare me away?” You turn to face him. The look in his eyes is still dark and dangerous, but your body reacts much differently to it now. Warmth blooms in your stomach and spreads to the rest of your body. Your legs clench together, suddenly desperate for friction. “I’ve murdered too many men to count, destroyed their bodies enough to make them unrecognizable. You really think something like a sex room is enough to make me run and hide?”

Something flashes in his eyes, though it’s gone before you can recognize what it is. “Get on the bed.”

You hesitate before remembering his warning from earlier. The bed is soft. You sink into it when you allow yourself to relax enough to lie back. August moves around the room, but you’re too absorbed in the comfort of this amazing mattress to bother watching him. You only open your eyes again when you feel his hands on your wrists. By the time you’ve realized what he’s doing, what he’s planning, the damage is already done. August is good at tying knots. You know there’s no point in fighting against the restraints now keeping your hands tied together. Still, you thrash against him as he reaches for your legs. You’re moving so ferociously that you accidentally kick him in the side. He freezes and glares at you, a look that could send even the most powerful of men running. You freeze under his gaze. It’s enough for him to grab hold of your left ankle and tie it to the bedpost.

“August, what the hell are you doing?” you spit out.

He doesn’t respond until he has both of your legs tied to each post, spreading your legs as far as they can comfortably move. “I’m showing you just how overwhelming my love can be, darling.” The words are heartfelt but his tone is mocking. You know you’re in for it.

You watch as he moves to the dresser. He pulls out a drawer and searches for something inside. Only when he’s back in front of you do you recognize what it is: a vibrator.

“August…” You gulp. You have no idea what he has planned for you, but the sinister look on his face tells you it’s nothing good.

He moves onto the bed in one swift movement. You can see the devilish spark in his eyes as he hovers over you, leaning his head in towards yours in a movement so slow it drives you crazy. “Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. You lift your head to meet the kiss halfway--only for him to pull back from you before your mouth can do anymore than brush across his. You groan in frustration. “What the hell?”

But he’s already by your feet, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down as far as they’ll go. August pauses for less than a second before ripping the thick fabric apart. You gasp in surprise at both August’s actions and the depth to which it arouses you. Your panties are next, and then your shirt. Since this top fit you in such a way that you didn’t need to wear a bra, August’s work was done. You were completely naked beneath him, your clothes ruined forever.

The last time you’d been intimate with August, you’d been a virgin. You hadn’t known what to expect, what you were going to feel, or even what to do with your body. But in the five years that you’d struggled to move on from him, you’d had a good number of hook-ups and the occasional boyfriend, which never lasted longer than a couple weeks. You aren’t a virgin anymore. You know what you’re doing. Yet, somehow, August made you feel like it was your first time all over again. The lust you’ve always tried to keep on a tight leash finally shows its head and you think it’s going to devour you before he even touches you properly.

August’s eyes roam up and down your body, taking his time to admire the details of your curves. Your nipples harden with nothing shielding them from the air; at least, that’s what you tell yourself it’s from. It’s a detail that August doesn’t miss. His eyes jump down to the mountains of your breasts and licks his lips like you’re a snack made just for him. It makes you whimper. August instantly smirks as you blush, embarrassed that he so easily affects you so greatly.

“I like you like this,” he admits, his voice breaking the tense silence. “I like you naked and open for me, how your eyes look at me with such needy desperation.”

You open your mouth to argue, to hold onto an ounce of your dignity, but the sound of the vibrator whirring to life keeps you from speaking. Warmth crawls through your body as you watch him bring the toy closer to you. Your breaths are already shallow by the time he presses the vibrator against your clit. The settings aren’t even on that high, yet your body literally spasms at the contact. You hadn’t realized you were already so desperate for any sort of friction against your pussy. The rope digs into your wrists as you tug on the restraints, needing to clutch onto something with your hands, and you cry out at the burn. It somehow makes your arousal deepen. Your arousal drips onto the toy and makes the vibrating sensations even more powerful against your throbbing clit. It isn’t long before your hips begin to grind against the toy. Your orgasm is close enough to taste.

August chooses just then to turn the toy off. You cry out with frustration. Your body is already desperate and aching. He looks down at you with contempt. You know this is going to be a long night; he’s going to tease you until he feels you’ve been punished for lying to him. Will he even let you cum once? The thought of not finding release at all tonight makes you whimper.

“Already wound up?” he cooes. “We’ve barely just begun, princess.”

“What--” you start, then gasp out when he brings his hand down on your pussy. Your clit stings with the sharpness of his slap. You squeeze your eyes shut in pain.

“Apologize for lying to me,” August demands. “Apologize and I’ll stop.”

You glare at him. He really expects you to give in so easily?

When you say nothing, he slaps your pussy again. Your entire body lifts off the bed in reaction to the pain. No, you won’t give in so easily, but August won’t cave, either, which means this will be a very long night.

…

Your wrists are red and raw from tugging at the ropes for the last hour. But you’re too busy grinding your hips against the vibrator and August’s fingers buried deep inside of you to notice the stinging of your wrists. Your back begins to arch off the bed as your orgasm finally--

He pulls away. Fucking bastard. You whimper as your body registers the lack of sensation.

“Please,” you beg as more tears fall down your face. “P-please, August.”

“You know what to do if you really want it to stop.”

It’s been at least an hour of him torturing you, bringing you so close to orgasm that you can feel your body begin to unravel, and then he pulls away from you and pushes you as far away from your orgasm as he can. You swear he’s grown more energized with each orgasm he teased away from you. It’s like he lives to bring you pain.

You want to curse at him, to put him in his place, but you don’t have any strength left to refuse him. Your pussy is swollen from the lack of orgasms and his slaps. There’s red marks up and down your thighs from where his hands groped at your skin hard enough to make you whimper. Your body is bruised and tired. Give in, everything inside of you screams. Just give him what he wants and he’ll give you what you need. But… will he? The malicious look on his face doesn’t look like someone who understands mercy.

“I’m not sorry!” you finally cry out. Your voice is shaky from fatigue and the fear that, even though you’re telling the truth, it’s the wrong move. You open your eyes and hold his dark gaze. “I know you want to hear that I am, that I never should have deceived you, that I never should have thought of you after that night in Norway, but none of that would be true. I’ve thought about you every second since. And I don’t care if I deceived you. You and me… we’re the same. We’ll do what it takes to get what we want, and I wanted--no, I needed to hear you say you love me back. Don’t make me apologize for the twisted way my mind works because I never made you apologize for your own sadistic ways.”

He hesitates, probably deciding whether to continue with the punishment or not. But finally he sets down the vibrator and moves to hover over you. “Don’t lie to me.” His voice is no louder than a whisper but the threat is clear.

You dare to hold his gaze. “I’m not lying, August.”

You expect him to say something cruel and heartbreaking, but instead he kisses you. It’s fast and rough and demanding. You let him take everything he needs. His hands move between kneading at your breasts and teasing the sore, sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs. He swallows every moan and cry and whimper you make for him.

“Please,” you beg, your words getting swallowed up in his mouth. “Please fuck me.”

He doesn’t need to hear the words twice. He pulls back and stands just long enough to undress himself and slide a condom onto his erection. You only have a few seconds to admire the perfection of his muscled, hairy body before he’s above you again. He holds your gaze as he moves between your legs.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you,” he warns.

You shake your head. “I don’t want you to.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. You cry out as he lines his cock up with your entrance, letting your juices coat the tip of his cock before entering you. Both of you release a moan of pleasure as he pushes inside of you. Your walls clench around him so tightly that he struggles to move deeper.

“You gotta fucking relax,” he gasps, “or I’m gonna cum before we’ve had any fun.”

You whimper at his words. They turn you on even more. You focus on your breathing and try to relax your body, though it takes several seconds before he can move inside of you again. As soon as he bottoms out he pulls back. You open your mouth to protest, but he slams into you a second later. His cock hits your g-spot as he begins to fuck you hard and fast, just as he promised he would. With how overstimulated you are, it doesn’t take long for your legs to start shaking with an approaching orgasm.

“That’s it, princess, cum for me, cum around my cock.”

His words spur you on and your walls clench around him. He doesn’t slow his movements, instead helping you draw out your orgasm for as long as possible. It’s the most intense high you’ve ever felt.

You’re aware of the headboard banging against the wall with ridiculous volume as you come back to reality. The sound of it makes you blush. August stares down at you as he grips your hips in a grip that will leave bruises, his balls slapping against your squelching pussy. You tug on your restraints, wanting to touch him, and wince when the bonds rub against your sore wrists.

“Cum inside me,” you gasp out, noticing the way his face begins to scrunch up with his rising pleasure. “Cum inside of me, August.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before you feel your insides grow warmer. You find yourself almost disappointed that you can’t feel his seed coat your walls. He falls above you and you catch him, holding him against your chest. August struggles to catch his breath beside your head. Both of you are quiet for a long time.

“You don’t get to run this time,” you whisper.

He turns his head towards you, his nose brushing against your neck as he breathes you in. “No. No running this time.”

***

Taglist:

@agniavateira @hnryycvll @littlefreya @wanderinglunarnights @wednesdaybraids @fcgrizi @celestial-vomit @lestersglitterglue @watermeloncavill @honeychicana @penwieldingdreamer @mary-ann84 @elixasays @buckysgoldenheart @noz4a2 @trippedmetaldetector @omgkatinka @lunedelorient @radaofrivia @aphrodites-punch @sweetybuzz25 @iloveyouyen @deathonyourtongue

let me know if you want to be added or removed from my taglist

#august walker #august walker imagine #august walker smut #august walker mission impossible #august walker daddy #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #august walker x you #august walker x reader #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you

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deathonyourtongue · 4 years

Note

Henry taking you on a carnival on your birthday hc?

Okay, so I took inspiration from the descriptions of the circus in The Night Circus, which is by far my favorite description of a carnival/circus I’ve ever read. Wish it existed in real life! The song I was listening to while writing this is Zoetrope by Joep Beving

You’ve told Henry a million times that theme parks and carnivals are a waste of money on you. You’re afraid of heights and falling, and that cancels out most, if not all of the rides. With most carnivals not having an extravagant budget for more complicated rides that use the latest technology, every time you’ve gone to one, you’ve been left wandering aimlessly, looking at games of chance that are impossible to beat, and food that is as overpriced as it is unhealthy. On a whole, you’d rather spend an evening watching a movie than watching others have fun.

Which is why, when Henry comes home one day with tickets to a carnival and an excited grin on his face, you can’t help but feel crestfallen. This is not how you’d planned on spending your anniversary with him and the fact that he’s forgotten your fears only makes you feel worse.

“Before you say anything, just know that I full well remember that rides are useless and games of chance are a waste of money. This is not that. This will be a night you’ll never forget.” He says, reading your body language in seconds, one hand lifted in defense of the barrage he knows is coming. Sighing, you stick out your hand, palm facing up, wanting to see the ticket. If you’re being dragged somewhere, you at least want to know where you’re going.

You’re surprised when the ticket placed in your hand has heft to it. Most tickets nowadays are the definition of cheap, with the print disappearing in weeks, and the paper ripping at the slightest glance. This one is different.

Printed on textured cardstock the color of midnight, it takes you a moment to realize the writing isn’t pressed, but handwritten in elegant, flowing script. The ink reminds you of fireflies in the garden, not quite gold, but not quite silver either. You spend far longer than you imagine entranced by how the light reflects off the letters.

Le Carnaval de L'éphémère

One night only. Never to return.

Opens at dusk and not before.

“Now I have your attention,” Henry smiles, knowing your obsession with stationery and calligraphy.

“Did you make this?” You can’t help but ask, even though the question sounds stupid the moment it leaves your mouth. Henry laughs and shakes his head.

“Bought and paid for. Like the card says, one night only, love.”

Your favorite part of October are the smells, and not for the first time, you’re grateful your anniversary with Henry falls nearly on Halloween. Every wonderful scent in the world–his included–is at full bloom right before the world falls asleep in Winter’s icy grasp, and summer aside, it’s the season where you feel the most alive.

Holding onto Henry’s bicep, you keep time with his long strides, his steps leading to Kynance, the mews not too far from the one you both live on, but far more idiosyncratic and interesting. The archway that marks the beginning of the street brings up a thought in your mind, and you can’t help but feel your curiosity yet again piqued in the same way it had been when Henry handed you the ticket.

“Isn’t Kynance a dead-end?” You ask, swearing you remember a dark brown double-gate at the end of the road. Squinting, you realize that the gate you remember is no longer there, replaced by a large iron gate behind which stands an old-fashioned ticket booth. Henry just shrugs, his smile broadcasting the same excitement you feel growing in you with each step you take closer to the end of the mews.

There’s a few people already waiting when you get there, bundled up in various degrees of cold weather gear. Knowing you have the advantage of living with a human furnace, when the two of you settle in your spot, you simply slip your arms in between Henry and his plaid jacket, instantly shielding yourself not only from the cold, but from the slight breeze that twists and dances through the narrow road in a way you’ve never felt in any other mews.

Henry graciously wraps his arms around you, turning you both so that you’re parallel to the gate and can take a moment to appreciate how the sunset plays off the gilded edges of the ticketbooth. You notice a large, meticulously-constructed clock at the top of the booth, the numbers replaced with only two words where 12 and 6 would normally be; Dusk and Dawn are the only markers of time on this particular chronograph, and you recall the words on the ticket with a smile. Whatever this is, they’re leaning into it hard and you appreciate it greatly.

You tip your head up to press a kiss to Henry’s lips, his arms squeezing you tighter as a breeze seems to wrap around the two of you like a tornado. Pulling away, you both look at each other like children on Christmas morning, adventure and wonder filling the air. Your eyes turn to the sunset, mesmerized by the waves of pink and purple in the sky; a sunset rare for this part of the country, especially with winter fast approaching. Resting your head on Henry’s chest, you can’t keep the smile from your face if you tried.

A deep tintinnabulation causes you to lift your head, and looking at the ticket booth, you realize the clock has hit Dusk. The carnival is open and your night has just begun.

When the curtain draws back on the ticket booth, you nearly gasp to see not a person, but an automaton behind the glass. Impeccably painted, the animated machine holds out a hand and takes the ticket, inspecting it briefly before stamping the back with the same ink used in the hand lettering and returning it to the waiting patron. With each person, it gives a different greeting, and when it’s yours and Henry’s turn, you eagerly await what it has to say.

Stamped and handed back, the automaton looks up at you and briefly, you wonder if there’s not life behind the glass eyes in its papier mache skull.

“Two lovers by a moss-grown spring: They leaned soft cheeks together there, Mingled the dark and sunny hair, And heard the wooing thrushes sing.O budding time! O love’s blest prime!”

The accent is appropriately 18th century, and you hear Henry snort above you, his face holding nothing but amusement. “The lady knows her Eliot,” he remarks with a raised eyebrow, taking his ticket back and keeping you close as you step forwards to heavy black and white striped curtain. You can’t help but smile when you feel Henry’s one-handed grip on you tighten as he peels back the curtain with the other hand.

A gasp does leave you this time, as you’re met with a narrow corridor, lit only by small flecks of light that dance around as though in their own orbit. Fog floats at your feet, and ozone floods your nostrils. You keep both arms wrapped around Henry’s torso as he guides you through, knowing full well you’re nearly night blind.

The corridor twists and turns in impossible directions given its geographical location, and for a moment your mind goes to the Bermuda triangle and alternate universes. There’s no way the city allowed them (whoever they are) to take up so much public space and alter it in such a way as to confuse the carnival-goers into thinking they’ve entered another realm. After what feels liked an eternity, you and Henry find yourselves at another curtain.

You watch the confusion and excitement light up in Henry’s eyes after he lifts the second curtain, bringing you into open square. Intricate parquet floors gleam from the rays of a moon that seems too close to be your own. Other guests mill about, all with the same slack-jawed expression of awe that both you and Henry are wearing. In the center of the square stands an iron cage with cutouts designed to look like trapeze artists, lions, tigers, and tents. Inside burns a fire that you swear changes color each time you blink. Henry has to physically move you towards the first tent.

With the same gilded lettering as the ticket, the tent is titled simply, and though you swear it’s your night blindness playing tricks on you, the lights around the sign seem to dance in circles around the letters.

Hall of Mirrors

Looking at Henry, you can’t refuse the boyish grin he gives you, letting him lead you in through another heavy curtain, into an even darker space. When your eyes adjust, you see each mirror is lit by a single, flickering candle and you can’t stop yourself from stepping up to the first one that’s at eye level to you. Rather than your own reflection, you find a scene that brings tears to your eyes immediately. In a grassy field sits the man you love, a warm creme-colored sweater setting him apart from the sea of green. In his arms is an infant, little hands curling around Henry’s chin as it coos and gurgles happily. Finally, you enter the frame, another infant held in your arms, the smile that lights Henry’s face one you won’t soon forget.

“You alright, love?” Henry asks even though his eyes don’t move away from the mirror he’s gazing into. You squeeze him tight and wipe your eyes, smiling up at him after giving him a little jostle. When he meets your gaze, you’re not surprised to see the same, sappy look on his features that you yourself are wearing.

“I love you,” he whispers, a breeze ruffling through his curls as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead even as the air guides you out of the tent. You return the sentiment with a kiss to his sternum and a rub to his back, the scene still playing vividly in your head.

A scent catches your attention as you step back into the moonlit square, and without even needing to look up, you feel Henry tug you in the direction it’s coming from. Salted caramel and exotic spices mingle in the air, creating an otherworldly smell that you wish you could bottle up. Arriving at the stand, you marvel at the different offerings, all delivered by a different automaton dressed much like an 18th century baker would be.

Without a word, the doll hands each of you a bag of caramel corn, drizzles of chocolate and a sprinkle of cinnamon binding everything into one mouth-watering treat. The doll’s eyes indicate that the two of you should move and Henry quickly shuffles you out of the way and accidentally into another tent.

Though you miss the sign, there’s no question as to its contents the fur brushes your hand. Looking down, you’re met with a white Siberian tiger, its frost-colored eyes gazing up at you with curiosity. The animal chuffs and purrs, rubbing itself against you before moving on to another patron.

“Henry,” you whisper before moving your gaze and finding a veritable pack of large cats prowling the interior of the tent, none of them seeming all that interested in the prey that walked right into their space. You side-step when Henry gets nudged by a full-grown lion, its main a beautiful sunlit gold, the cat nuzzling against Henry until he gets pet. Henry laughs, the sound equal parts joy and surprise, neither of you understanding how it’s possible.

You get braver with each step, and soon you’re petting puma while Henry is crouched down, getting a tongue bath from a cheetah, the fear of being mauled all but a distant memory as you enjoy what seems like a dream.

When you finally step out of the tent, both of you have to pause short as a colony of penguins waddle past, some wearing bow ties. “Henry,” you look up, befuddled, “what is this place?” Again, you get a helpless shrug, Henry’s eyes catching the moonlight and nearly making you swoon for how icy blue they look.

You all but yank Henry to the next tent, excitement rushing through you like whitewater down a mountain.

Aquatic Life

Behind the curtain is a wall of water, and you flinch thinking you’re about to get caught in a tsunami, but the water moves only in gentle waves, never once losing its vertical shape. An automaton hands each of you a paper straw, motioning for you to go forward, into the unconfined aquarium. Placing the straw in your mouth as modeled by the doll, you and Henry hang onto each other tightly as you step through the threshold. Surrounded by an oceanic warmth, you look down to find your clothes not only feel dry, but that you and Henry are both encircled in a bubble blown simply by the two of you breathing normally.

A dolphin swims past, jarring you from your thoughts, and you look up to find a whale shark coming directly for you. Henry pulls you aside and you both stand completely still as the creature dallys past. Sea turtles, great whites, and jellyfish all move about, not caring whether they’re impossible or not. Reaching out, you touch the bell of the jellyfish, marveling when your hand comes back as dry as it went in.

Your last stop for the night is one of the few stands that offer games of chance. Though you have a rule about them, Henry convinces you to let him play once, and you give in, unwilling to say no when he’s managed to escort you on the most magical evening you’ve ever had.

The game is simple; on a luxuriant black velvet board, the same twinkling lights that illuminate the rest of the carnival dance. If Henry counts how many of them there are and guesses the correct number, he wins you a prize.

Sipping on the last of his cider, you watch as he readies himself. The automaton signals and Henry begins, moving in quadrants so that he doesn’t re-count the number of lights. When the time reaches its limits, he writes his answer neatly on a piece of cardstock, handing it to the automaton. A moment’s pause and the wall behind the ornate doll slide open, revealing a choice of prizes unlike any you’ve seen at other carnivals.

You take your time in choosing, the automaton seeming to watch you as you select between antique jewelry, smaller automatons, a framed painting of a headless woman, or a plush tiger which looks handcrafted and not mass-produced. Henry says nothing, but you can see his eyes venturing to the automaton of a ballerina, so realistic and graceful its as if they miniaturized the principal dancer of the Royal Ballet.

You point at the Ballerina, and when the automaton places it in your hand, you’re delighted to find that she sits on a jewelry case, dancing to a music box version of Gymnopedie. So admiring of it are you that you nearly trample a contortionist on your way out of the kiosk area. The woman smiles understandingly from her position, reaching up with one hand to give you and Henry each a small card.

On it, you find a fortune similar to the kind you’re used to getting inside of takeout cookies. You only read the first word before the contortionist catches your attention again, shaking her head from its spot between her knees. She indicates the music box, and without a word, you place the fortune inside, daring not read it just yet.

As you make your way out of the carnival, the first streams of sunlight filter through the starry sky, and you blink, trying to figure out how time seemed to slow inside the carnival. Just as you come to the edge of the cobbles, you hear the chiming of the bell once more, and looking back, are shocked to find the same old brown gate you remembered always being there. You say nothing to Henry, still held in thrall by the magic of the evening and not wanting to ruin it with chatter.

You very nearly forget about the music box and the ballerina once you get home, the ache in your feet from having spent all night walking around making itself known as you sit down for the first time in nearly six hours. It’s not until the familiar tinny music begins to play again that you remember the fortune you’d tucked inside. Standing, you pad over to the box and to Henry who still seems to be in a dreamlike state, his eyes transfixed on the ballerina.

“What did you see in the mirror?” You ask him quietly as you observe the automaton dancing on her platform. Henry’s quiet for a few moments, and when he speaks, his voice is soft and hoarse, as though he’s holding back tears.

“I saw you standing in our kitchen, swaying back and forth, wearing my favorite dress of yours. You were smiling and there was music playing off in the distance. When you turned, you were glowing. And…” he waivers, pulling you back against him, his face tucked into the crook of your neck. “You were carrying our babies.” The words are muffled and whispered, holding so much joy and anticipation, that it puts a frog in your own throat and you can’t help but reach up and card a hand through Henry’s curls in silent hope.

Reaching down, you open the box just as the music fades, winding it up to play anew before pulling out your fortune. You let out a wet chuckle when you read the words, and Henry squeezes you tighter, a snuffle accompanying the tears that darken the shoulder of your shirt.

On the same beautiful black cardstock are the gilded letters, the fortune cementing the night’s theme.

After winter comes spring, and new life it brings.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #fluff

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probably-not-star-lord · 4 years

Text

More Than a Mission: Part 1 (Steve Rogers x Reader)

A/N: I’m so excited about this series!! Prepare yourself for so much fluff and unexpected smut. Also, I really got super in-depth about the mission for this fic without knowing if any of it sounds even remotely professional. I apologize if it makes zero sense lmao.

Request: Hello, it’s me Stark again😅 I was wondering if you could do an Imagine with Steve Rogers and it’s fluff with the cliche prompt of you both have to share a bed together on a mission cause Tony “accidentally” ordered the “wrong” room for you guys on the trip everyone was going on 💛

Request: Can you write a fanfic about Steve Rogers x reader because I need it, fluff, smut and whatever you want! xx

Summary: Being an Avenger means following through with a mission no matter what the circumstances are. In this case, thanks to Tony Stark, the most ridiculous circumstance of this mission is pretending to be in love with the one and only Captain America. However, is being in love with Steve really just pretend?

Warnings: swearing, fluff, mentions of drinking

Steve Rogers is intoxicating.

Ever since the day you became an Avenger you’ve been addicted to him. You drink in every sip of his kindly attractiveness and his Captain America physique. His muscles nearly rip his shirts to shreds, his piercing blue eyes can make you shudder, and his perfect smile lights up every single room he enters. He’s an adonis. Then, of course, he has this gentlemanly charm that illuminates off of him whenever he speaks and you can never take in enough of his words. A simple interaction will lead to the man living in your thoughts and dreams for hours on end. You push your desires down, so far down that you force yourself to view Steve as nothing more than a colleague, a co-worker, your boss. Yet, no matter how hard you try, he continues to stay on your mind. He’s intruding like that.

However, your relationship with Steve has always been serious, professional. There are rare occasions where the two of you train together, sparring aggressively until he inevitably wins. He pins you down on the mat at the conclusion of each session, staring into your eyes with a dominant gaze and beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face. On the unlikely chance that you conquer the Captain during training, you’re the one pinning him to the floor. Your thighs straddle his large frame as you breathe heavily, letting yourself exhale as you accept your victory. Steve’s clear satisfaction with your win causes him to form this sweet smirk of his that makes your head dizzy. It makes working out impossible. This means you often spar with Natasha, who basically taught you everything you know anyway. She is the only person you’ve spoken to about your secret fascination with Steve, so she allows the intrusion of you begging her to spar when Captain America is filling up the gym with his utter perfection.

You try so hard to repress whatever feelings you have for Steve. When he gives orders during missions you almost always do as you’re told, attempting a thought that is anything other than Captain America in his suit commanding you in the bedroom as well as on the battlefield. If you decide to ignore his orders, the two of you will have it out with each other. Steve always remains calm with his words but can lose his temper and raise his tone of force from simply authoritative to echoing with frustration. You never fail to snap back at him, your feelings subsiding and your stubbornness taking control. There is pointing and groaning and getting into each other’s faces with a distinct tension that Natasha likes to label as sexual. You would prefer not to think of it as such.

Steve is your boss, after all, and outside of the sparring or the fighting he is nothing but sweet in a very professional manner. There has never been a hint of romance as far as you can tell, but there tends to be a sort of nervousness that finds Steve when the two of you are together. It boosts your confidence. He greets you every morning in the kitchen of Avenger’s Tower as the two of you drink coffee and eat breakfast with casual small talk. At all of Tony’s parties Steve will compliment you and offer you a drink, spending the night engaging in conversation that could only ever be between two colleagues. It’s always been that way, no matter how badly your heart wants more.

The conference room feels stuffy as your thoughts consume you. It remains a struggle to remove Steve from your brain as he currently sits beside you, arms crossed and eyebrows creased as he listens to Tony. Your dear friend speaks to all of the Avengers in the room about an upcoming mission as you clearly focus elsewhere. Yet, a compelling task with the mention of you and the man in your fantasies quickly draws your attention.

“We have to do what?”

You and Steve speak at the same time, staring dumbfounded at Tony. The idea is crass and in all honesty, it makes you uncomfortable. These concepts are reserved for your daydreams, not a very real mission.

“Come on,” Tony retorts. “All I’m asking is that the two of you pretend to be a couple. Dance. Flirt a little bit. Maybe even hold hands. It’s not that complicated.”

Steve exhales loudly and turns to you. “Y/N, are you comfortable with this?”

“I am if you are, Captain,” you respond, casually shrugging with the effort to emit no sense of shock. Steve looks to the floor and chuckles nervously. Clearly, calling Steve by his authoritative name does things to him. Things that shouldn’t be mentioned in the workplace.

“Well, then, it’s settled.” Tony claps his hands together and makes his way over to the front of the board room, furthering the meeting. “Capsicle will finally thaw out of the ice and learn how to flirt with a girl. Maybe, if we’re lucky, he’ll do more than just flirt with Y/N.”

“Tony,” Steve addresses him in his Captain America voice, a stern look on his face as his hands form fists on top of the conference table. “That isn’t exactly appropriate.”

“Who said it had to be?”

Steve furrows his eyebrows at Tony, knuckles turning white from how hard he is clenching his fists. But, his face is a deep shade of crimson and the whole room can see it. As Tony takes a step back in defense, rolling his eyes and continuing with the plan, you smile to yourself in hopes to relieve Steve’s obvious tension. He laughs quietly, calming his own nerves. It catches your attention and the two of you make eye contact, only for a mere second. The awkwardness of the entire situation forces the both of you to look away.

The meeting with everyone lasts for several hours as Tony explains the threat of the mission. This time, he has all of your attention. There is a group trying to infiltrate large, Manhattan corporations through the computer systems, attempting to steal billions of dollars and any information that could be valuable to shut those businesses down. The leader, Henry Red, used to work for Tony. He was fired for leaking crucial documents. It wasn’t discovered until later that it was on purpose. Red has always had the same plan. He wants to take down Tony and any corporations similar to Stark Industries just so his own business can thrive. Obviously, this includes Stark Industries and quite possibly SHIELD or Avengers Assemble.

Red could have easily been taken down by Tony, Bruce, and maybe even SHIELD agents who are simply just good with technology. But, he isn’t working alone. Tony goes on to disclose to everyone during the meeting that Red is much more powerful than he had previously believed. He has several police officers, detectives, and even agents within Avengers Tower all working for him. These are all people being paid off to remain loyal to him, being very discreet about their private affairs. This means you can’t trust anyone but the people confined within the conference room at this exact moment. Tony warns that his threat is not only public exposure and robbery, but Henry Red is a man who is also willing to kill, as he has done numerous times in the past. Luckily, going undercover, none of you will let that happen.

“So, where are we going, Tony? His evil lair?”

He points at you. “Now is not the time for sarcasm.”

“That’s interesting coming from you,” you acknowledge, earning a laugh from the room. “But, seriously, where the hell are we going?”

“I’m sending Romanaff, Wilson, and Barnes along with you and Cap to an event being thrown by Red himself. It won’t be as extravagant as the parties I throw, of course, but it will be busy, fancy, and crowded. You’ll be overseas and Red has never been up close and personal with any of you, so I’m hoping you’ll be unrecognizable. I want to make it believable that all of you are on Red’s side, not trying to take him down. I’ll also make sure your clothing is taken care of so you can dress up and fit in with the environment.”

“Does that mean I get to wear an expensive dress and high heels?” Tony nods at your question. Your mind fills with images of you dressed up in an elegant gown and heels standing beside Steve in an expensive suit, posing to be his lover. “Will you be paying for all of this?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Who else would be paying for it?”

“When’s this event taking place?” Nat chimes in.

Tony reviews some notes that lay on the conference table. “It looks like Red is throwing the shindig on Saturday night. However, I’m sending all of you ASAP. That way you can get some rest, settle in, and hopefully survey the area.”

“One more question,” you assert. “Will there be booze at this party?”

“Of course,” he responds. “I encourage you and Steve to drink socially, in order to appear like you belong and not draw any attention. But no getting drunk, I need you to be on high alert. I’m looking at you, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You brush him off. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make sure to keep an eye on her,” Steve assures, sending you a warm smile that makes your heart melt. Of course the golden boy himself makes a gesture of protection. You’re no damsel in distress, even Steve knows that, but having an attractive super soldier by your side can’t be all that bad.

Tony continues devising the plan. He goes on to tell you that Henry Red is currently based in Germany. He likes to hide out, get away from New York. This way he is unsuspected when his goons commit mass murders, killing those who are a threat to his heist. Wherever Henry Red is located, that’s where you and most of the team are being sent. Natasha is the lookout, lurking in places within the event to keep a close eye on any possible threats. Tony debated calling Hawkeye to help Natasha and keep her in check, but he chose to let Clint stay home with his family. Thor would be useful in this situation in case things get out of hand, but he’s currently off world. Bucky and Sam are going to watch the action of the party, posing as bodyguards and checking who goes in and who goes out. This is to keep track of those who are working for Red. Every person under his radar will be sure to make an appearance at this event. No one wants to be around when the hacking and the destroying of the companies is set to take place. That is why Tony decides Bruce and himself will keep a hold on Avengers Tower, locking in the computer system while monitoring the technology of other businesses. But, it all starts at the source. That’s where you and Steve come in.

Tony informs the two of you that you will be the only Avengers not in constant communication with the rest. It is dire for the others to always be reporting updates back to Tony and Bruce, surveying the scene and giving a run down to make sure no one is leaving the event and interrupting the process of protecting the computer system and technology. When Tony and Bruce complete the necessary arrangements to preserve the information at SHIELD, Avengers Assemble, and Stark Industries, they will have to let everyone else know right away. That’s when the cover will be blown so Nat, Bucky, and Sam can take down anyone suspected to be working with Red. Tony says that if you and Steve are always talking into the comms, suspicion will arise and the entire operation could be blown. The goal is to make sure Red is in your sight at all times, and if possible, you have to distract him from checking up on his plan. That should give Tony and Bruce enough time to protect the other systems while also hacking into his. After that is complete, you’ll have to take Red down and turn him over to the custody of the other agents that Tony will send to the event later on.

“We get in. We get Red. We get out,” Steve announces. “Got it.”

Tony sighs. “You are only allowed to get Red and get out of there on my signal. Do you understand?”

“Yeah, Cap and I can handle it,” you inform him, putting him at ease.

“Make sure you’re always watching him,” Tony says seriously. Then a sly grin forms on his lips. “But have a little fun, too. Act like a real couple. Red and everyone else at the party needs to buy it.”

“I’m sure it won’t be a hard act to sell,” Sam blurts, his eyes focusing between you and Steve.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you question.

“Nothing.” Sam winks at Steve then nudges Bucky. He chuckles. Steve isn’t amused and neither are you.

“I agree,” Tony admits, ignoring your and Steve’s reactions. “But just in case the two of you pussy out of this, I need your word that you can really sell it. We can’t have all hell break loose just because the old man doesn’t know how to act around Y/N.”

“We’ll do our best, Tony,” Steve affirms, entirely dodging Tony’s insult.

You place a hand delicately on Steve’s arm, feeling him tense up a little under your kind touch. “Please, we’ve totally got this. Right, Captain?”

“Right.”

Part Two: Here

A/N: It’s been so long since I wrote this original fic that I rewrote it with some minor changes. The premise and plot is remaining the same so if you originally read this fic when I first wrote it ages ago and are wondering why I posted a new one, please stick around because I am continuing it after I update the old chapters. I kept the tag lists the same but let me know if you’d like me to update anything with the tags! I hope you all enjoy!

permanent tag list: @lolabean1998 @thisismysecrethappyplace @crazystarlady @gloomybisexualemo @yougottalovefandoms @emilymarie0422

series tag list: @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @buginkt @innerthingstudentblr @a-study-in-letters @noisyinfluencerstrawberry @thecraziestcrayon @rhiannon-the-troublemaker

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marvelous-writer · 4 years

Text

Pumpkins & Stitches

Summary: In which Happy babysits Morgan and Peter while Pepper and Tony are out on date night. With Halloween only a week away, they decide to carve pumpkins... which probably wasn’t the best idea. Whumptober Day 22: Stitches

Word Count: 1,875

Genre: whump, fluff

Link to read on AO3

A/N: Part 9 of @whumptober2020

“So what type of face do you want this guy to have? A smile? Evil grin?” Happy asks Morgan as he uncaps the Sharpie in his hand, gesturing to the large pumpkin in front of them on the dining room table.

“Hmm…” Morgan hums to herself, brows pulled together in thought as she looks at the pumpkin for a few seconds. “A unicorn.��

Happy raises an eyebrow. “A unicorn? Are you sure?” He asks, already knowing what a pain in the butt that’s going to be to try to draw, let alone carve-out.

Morgan nods, smiling. “Yep.”

Happy sighs lightly, knowing that there’s no use in trying to sway her—when Morgan makes up her mind, there’s no changing it. “One unicorn it is,” He says as he pulls his phone out of his pocket to look up a few reference photos of the mythical creature. He glances over at Peter at the other end of the table, who’s now onto carving his pumpkin. The kid has his tongue sticking out of his mouth in thought as he cuts into it with a knife. “What’s yours gonna be, Pete?” Happy asks.

Peter looks over his pumpkin at him, sheepishly smiling.

“Let me guess. Spider-Man?” Happy says.

Peter grins. “How’d you know?”

Happy shakes his head with a smile. “Lucky guess. You’re just like Tony—he had at least twenty massive Iron Man pumpkins out on the front porch his first Halloween after he publicly outed himself as Iron Man.”

“Did he carve them himself?” Peter asks, eyebrows raised in surprise.

Happy laughs, shaking his head. “No. He bought them from some local shop in Malibu.”

“That must have looked cool at night,” Peter says, grinning.

The memory of all of the little kids that came to the mansion that year for trick or treating comes to his mind, remembering how their faces lit up when Tony stepped out in one of the suits to give them all bucket loads of candy. “Yeah, it did.” Happy says with a fond smile.

“Uncle Happy? I want my pumpkin to look like Elsa instead.” Morgan announces suddenly.

Happy’s smile drops as he looks down at her, meeting her pleading brown eyes that she always uses on him when she wants something. And of course, it works every time because he’s a sucker for those beautiful brown eyes of hers. “Pumpkin Elsa it is.” He says with a sigh.

…

Thirty-five minutes later, after pulling up a few reference pictures of the (ex) Queen of Arendale herself, Happy is half-way through finishing drawing Elsa’s face on Morgan’s pumpkin, which isn’t coming out too bad considering it’s been decades since his last art class in high school.

“Uncle Happy?” Morgan asks.

“Hmm?” Happy hums, brows pulled together in concentration as he makes sure the eyes are proportionally sized with each other so this thing doesn’t look wonky.

“Do pumpkins bleed?”

Happy almost laughs at the odd question as he makes the finishing touches on Elsa’s nose. Kids and their imaginations. “Pumpkins don’t bleed, honey.”

“Then why is Peter’s pumpkin bleeding?” She asks.

“Huh?” Happy says as he jerks his head over to look at Peter’s pumpkin, only to see a streak of crimson on the side of it. His eyes snap up to Peter, who’s as pale as a sheet and unmoving, staring down at something with wide eyes.

Cursing under his breath, Happy jumps up from the table and rushes to Peter’s side, only to find an alarming amount of blood on the table beneath the kid’s clearly injured hand. “What happened?” He demands, eyes darting around for something to stem the bleeding but there isn’t anything within reach.

“I...t-the knife. It slipped.” Peter stutters out, eyes still unmoving from his hand, clearly in shock.

“Here, let me see.” Happy says as he carefully takes Peter’s injured hand in his and turns it around to get a look at it.

Now, Happy’s not a squeamish person with all the shit he’s seen working for Tony all these years, but the sight of the deep, steadily bleeding cut along the entire length of Peter’s palm, from the bottom of his index finger, all the way down to his wrist has Happy’s stomach-churning.

“Shit.” Happy curses as he lets go of Peter’s hand to run over to the kitchen to grab a wad of paper towels before rushing back over.

He carefully wraps Peter’s hand with the paper towels, earning a sharp hiss of pain from the teen. The blood soaks through the towels almost immediately, looking like it’s not going to stop any time soon. Happy considers his options as he applies light pressure to Peter’s injured hand—he can try to stitch it up himself, or they could go to the Compound and have one of the doctors in the medbay take care of it and risk the kid possibly losing a lot more blood in the thirty-minute drive

“Is Petey okay, Uncle Happy?” Morgan asks in a wobbly voice.

Happy looks over at her, seeing unshed tears pooling in her eyes.

Shit. Now add a traumatized toddler to the list, He thinks to himself as he bites his lip, trying to come up with a plan of action.

“Uh… yeah. Yeah, honey. Pete just cut himself a little bit but he’s going to be just fine,” Happy says, offering her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. “How about you go upstairs and play for a little bit while I help Pete out. Okay?”

Morgan sits there for a moment, unmoving, her eyes going back and forth between the blood on the table and Peter’s rapidly paling face. “Okay.” She says as she slides off her chair, heading in the direction of the stairs.

Happy breathes out a relieved breath, knowing that he’s going to have to do some damage control later, probably in the form of an apology ice cream or stuffed animal for her.

But for now, he has bigger fish to fry—or in this case, spiders to stitch.

Happy looks at Peter, wrapping an arm around him to help him stand up. “Let’s get you upstairs, kid.”

…

About five minutes later, Happy is helping Peter inside the upstairs bathroom, easing the wobbly teen down on the closed toilet seat before grabbing the first aid kit out from the medicine cabinet.

“M’ sorry, Happy. I didn’t mean to ruin tonight,” Peter says as Happy starts laying everything out on the sink countertop. “I know you… wanted it to be fun.”

“It’s alright, Pete. This was an accident,” Happy reassures as he quickly washes and dries his hands before wetting a hand towel under the warm water, wringing it out. “And we did have fun.”

Peter sighs and lets his head fall against the wall next to him, silently watching as Happy grabs the footstool out from underneath the sink vanity and sits down. Happy takes Peter’s injured hand in his, unraveling the bloody paper towels and tossing them in the small wastebasket beside them.

“Okay, this might sting a little,” Happy warns as he brings the cloth down on the sluggishly bleeding wound, earning a pained groan from Peter. “Sorry.”

Once the wound is cleaned and disinfected, Happy reaches up for the suture packet on the counter and rips it open. Peter pales even further at the sight of the needle. It’s no secret the kid has a fear of needles, resulting in him fainting from time to time—hopefully not tonight.

“Ready?” Happy asks once the needle is all set, wishing more than anything they had something he could numb the kid’s hand with to make this as painless as possible for him.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter says with a shaky nod as he closes his eyes, tucking his face a little against the wall as if he’s trying to shield himself from seeing the needle.

“It’ll be over before you know it, kid. Just take a few deep breaths,” Happy tells him gently before he gets to work.

Peter flinches as soon as the needle pierces his skin. “Ouch,”

“Sorry,” Happy apologizes, pausing for a moment to let him catch his breath before continuing.

Eventually, Happy finishes stitching the wound closed—a total of fourteen stitches to be exact. He carefully slathers a thick layer of antibacterial cream on the neat row of sutures before wrapping Peter’s hand in gauze.

“You’re good to go, Pete,” Happy announces when he’s finished. He breathes out a relieved sigh as he stands up, ignoring the way his knees crack and protest at the movement. “How about we get some pain meds in you and watch a movie until Tony and Pepper get back?”

Peter smiles weakly. “Yeah… that sounds good.”

Happy smiles in return as he goes over and wraps an arm around his back and helps him stand up. He leads the kid out of the bathroom and down the hallway, keeping a firm grip around Peter’s shoulders as they carefully make their way downstairs.

Once Peter is settled on the chaise section of the couch, wrapped up in a blanket and his injured hand propped up on a throw pillow, Happy calls Morgan downstairs as he grabs the kid’s pain meds from the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, along with a glass of water.

Happy walks out of the kitchen and back into the living room, giving Peter the pill, watching him wash it down with a few gulps of water.

“Thanks, Happy,” Peter says with a tired, yet grateful smile as he rests his head on the pillow behind him.

Happy returns the smile. “No problem, Pete,”

When Morgan comes downstairs, she worriedly eyes Peter’s bandaged hand.

“Hey, Mo,” Peter greets her with a small smile.

“Hi,” she says as she pads further into the living room, clutching her Iron Man teddy bear close to her chest. “Are you feeling better?”

Peter nods as she crawls up on the couch and sits beside him. “Way better. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s okay. I brought you Henry… he was worried about you.” She says, tucking the bear against Peter’s side.

Peter smiles tiredly at her. “Awe, thanks, M.”

A smile tugs at the corners of Happy’s mouth at the sight of them as he turns around and heads back to the kitchen to make them a quick and easy dinner.

…

Once dinner is all ready—macaroni and cheese—Happy brings Peter his on a tray to make it easier for him to eat with one hand. They settle on watching Moana as they eat, Morgan singing along to the songs while Peter watches the screen with half-lidded eyes and a tired smile on his face.

The movie is only half-way in when Happy glances over at the kid, finding him to be sound asleep, snuggled up with Morgan’s teddy bear. Happy quietly gets up and carefully takes the tray away, before fixing the blankets around the sleeping teen. A smile pulls at the corner of Happy’s mouth at the sight of Peter drooling away on the pillow under his head.

Happy turns away and walks into the kitchen, already knowing that he has a lot of explaining to do when Tony and Pepper come home.

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 5 years

Text

Love me, love me not ~ pt.4

04: When Grayson meets an old flame

Summary: Finally in Paris, Grayson tries to woo Y/N, but fate had different plans.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of sex

Word count: 2.2 k

Love me, love me not ~ Series Masterlist

Silence surrounded them like a stars in a freckled night sky. She had her headphones in, her lips pursed, her eyes focused on the small screen before her. She figured he’d understand her desire to speak to him is non-existent, all of it acting as a shield since the pair have barely exchanged more than a few words since the red carpet and those were only pleasantries.

Grayson knew she wasn’t really watching Finding Dory, reading her intentions well. However, he was itching to make amends and have her smile at him again…but what would he apologize for? Having a heart? Caring about her? Wanting to explore their connection? Wanting to genuinely date her?

Those weren’t reasons for him to step on his words and pride and give into her childish behavior of pushing people away. Sure, she might not be interested in a relationship with him and he wouldn’t push her, but a friendship wouldn’t kill her.

“Either talk to her or stop staring. People are whispering about the creep in 40C and the naive girl two seats away.” Ethan nudged Grayson to move to his seat, closer to Y/N. He wasn’t foolish, seeing that Y/N has probably had zero sleep as they have and planned to sleep on the flight so she’d wake up in the right timezone. That’s why it’s crucial Grayson gets to her before her eyes close, because Ethan refused to have his trip ruined by the awkward tension and sexual frustration the two brought.

“She’s got headphones! I can’t just pull them from her head.” Grayson whisper shouted, sending his brother a glare before glancing at a seemingly cartoon-immersed Y/N.

Annoyed, Ethan outstretched his arm across Grayson’s lap, tapping Y/N’s shoulder carelessly and fast enough not to let his brother stop him nor react negatively for Y/N had turned her head just as quickly as he hoped.

“Everything okay?” She hummed, looking at the twins who nearly pointed a finger at each other as if to blame one another, like children who had gotten into trouble.

“Grayson wants to talk to you!” Ethan pipes up, stopping his younger brother before he has a chance to mutter something stupid and lose this chance.

“Umm, okay.” She takes her headphones off entirely, shifting in her seat so she faces him.

“I just wanted to ask you if you’d go out on a walk with me?” Grayson spoke fast, his eyes clinging to hers as his hands trembled lightly at his sides. He can’t remember the last time a girl made him so nervous he’d shake like he does now.

“Pretty sure we’d die if we tried to get out now.” She teased, her playful tone making a comeback and it dropped the weight off his chest. He was terrified he gambled away his chance with her, but the devilish smirk on her pink lips had his heart fluttering.

“Perhaps in Paris, then?” Grayson cocked an eyebrow, slapping a smirk of his own on his face, unaware how it forced her heart on a wild chase where every beat felt like a drum-roll.

“Sure. But, I need some beauty sleep now Dolan. Let me be.” She lowered her seat, her pillow already fluffed and prepped, her eyes closing as she pushed the blanket over her body.

“Not likely. You can’t get prettier than you are now, trust me.” Grayson added, chuckling when she pulled up the divider between them, catching a glimpse of her rosy cheeks, knowing he had made her blush. It was a nearly impossible feat, but he conquered the temper tantrum she threw the last time they had an actual talk.

Falling asleep, the three woke up just as they were landing, rushing to the hotel in time. They had a whole day to themselves, while the next day was reserved for Luis Vuitton.

“Get dressed and meet me out here at six.” Grayson instructed, winking her way before he disappeared behind his hotel room door, leaving her a flustered mess of anxiety and heart vs brain wars.

She wished she could get them both on the same page and either give into the bubbling feeling inside her or just forget about him and move on. But no…her heart was adamant in winning this fight, while her brain pulled out the big stops – Henry and how she had trusted him in the past only to have that trust thrown back to her face and her life turned around so heartlessly.

How could she let herself go down the same road again?

She felt like a china-doll, glued together, but barely holding on. Grayson seemed like the type to shatter a person and not on purpose; never on purpose. He’d be so oblivious when she starts chipping away and that’s the scary part – he wouldn’t even know how her glue is failing and he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He’d ruin her. That much she was certain of. But she wanted to try, dip her toes into the water and wait until it’s warm enough she feels safe to move forward into deeper parts.

“So, where are we going?” She smiled widely, her look casual yet appealing. Something she seems to nail every damn time as it never fails to make Grayson’s heart skip a beat.

“Just a little stroll.” He tilted his head to the right ever so slightly, his wing shaped earring moving along with him like a dazzling trinket she couldn’t stop herself from looking at.

He came closer, his big brown eyes so soft as his smile grew, startling her when she felt his warm fingertips brush her wrist.

“But you’re going to have to let me hold your hand. We’re supposed to be in love, remember?” He raised an eyebrow, sliding his fingers into the icy palm of hers, spreading her fingers himself before linking them together only to pulls her along – gently, but in a commanding way. This was his show to run and she found herself caught up in it.

Walking the streets at near sunset had painted them a beautiful orange shade she quite adored. The pink streaks across the sky were a delight as well, but none compared to his bright smile as he pointed at his favorite spots to visit when he’s in France, nor the comforting warmth of his hand in hers. She noticed some people taking photos, fans mostly, but some professional cameras as well, but she could care less. She was actually out and on a date with this beautiful man and her brain was quiet for the first time in a long time.

Y/N stopped, hearing the romantic music coming from the street, forcing Grayson to stop as well, looking down at her already formed blush.

“Has anyone ever told you how beautiful your eyes are? Like, they’re the perfect blend of the earthly protection with just enough of green tones to make it seem like a forest ground – untouched beauty with so much more to find.” She truly found herself mesmerized and in the moment, her eyes on his as relentless as a storm he felt brewing within. But Grayson refused to question this moment of tenderness between them, rather embrace it – embrace her.

“Dance with me.” He wasn’t asking, rather demanding, his tone leaving no room for mistakes. She was clear on his intent, but couldn’t help the giggle escaping her nor the quick glance around them that showcased her nerves.

“We’re in the middle of the street.” She reasoned, finding him with a cocked eyebrow and an unapologetic smirk as he used the hand he still held to twirl her, knowing she’d lose her balance and fall into him after.

He reeled in the tiny gasp of surprise passing her lips as she spun into his chest, both her palms pressed against him as his hands came to rest on the small of her back, already moving rhythmically, nudging her to do the same.

Fighting a smile, her lips twitched as she raised her hands and closed them behind his neck, her arms a bit short to entirely wrap around him and he nearly cackled at the adorable little pout she made once she realized it. She may be small, but she’s fierce and he loved that about her. She’s not just a woman, not just a contract to him – she’s a force of nature and he wanted to be the one to reckon with it.

“You’re quite the partner.” She complimented, earning a small chuckle as he firmed his hands on her hips, lifting her up until her body pressed against him and her face was at face level.

“Let me kiss you.” He urged, licking his lips as a hungry lion who found a willing victim. “Just once. I feel like an addict who is dying for his next fix.” Grayson didn’t care about the fact he’s openly spilling his feelings out, nor about who might see or hear him. He just wanted her.

“How about we return to the hotel and I’ll give you a little more than just a peck?” She quirked an eyebrow, giving him a mysterious smile as her thigh pressed against his member, forcing him to stop breathing – just for a moment.

“Can you run or should I carry you back?” He laughed, already walking back, her feet still not firmly on the ground.

“I can run just fine. Let me down!” She insisted, but she didn’t expect him to grab her hands the moment he did so, running down the street like horny teenagers, bumping unsuspecting strangers.

Finally seeing the hotel, they’ve nearly made it inside when Grayson stopped.

“Ethan said you’d be out.” The girl’s voice had drawn Y/N’s attention, her breathless attempts to speak up failing as Grayson stared at the gorgeous woman in question.

“I’m all ready to go, baby. This coat is literally all I have on and I’m in a need of a big strong man who can take it off.” She purred, coming closer to him. It’s as if Y/N didn’t even exist. It’s as if he wasn’t still holding her hand. It’s as if this woman could care less about any of it, her lust for Grayson fully on display. Grayson who seemed too quiet, his hold on Y//N’s hand loosening as he gulped loud enough for Y/N to hear and she immediately stepped back, hurt written on her beautiful face as the fire of doom returned to her eyes.

“Yeah…baby. She seems awfully hot and bothered.” Y/N spat, ripping her hand out of his as she walked into the hotel – furious, but never more certain she should have went with her head instead of her heart. Who has ever gotten any good from trusting their heart?

“Y/N?” Grayson gasped, walking by the woman he clearly knew in order to get to his girl, aware the progress made is lost now.

“Please, let me explain.” He pleads, but her brain is back and it’s ready to rule her with an iron fist once more.

“No need. I’m certain you can get your dick wet with her tonight, because it sure as hell won’t be with me.” She nearly growled at him, especially when she saw the confused bimbo following him.

“You nearly had me fooled, Dolan. The whole romance charade was fun while it lasted, but I’m done. I’m just done being second string and I’m done having men dictate my life. So, here’s the hack: when you’re in there for the audition, just make sure you learn your lines and try to play the scene out in your head as if it’s a real interaction. Imagination is key.” She let out a deep, heavy, pained sigh as she raised her hand, tapping his chest lightly.

He wanted to stop her nonsense and kiss her. He wanted to open his dry mouth and tell her she’s all he cares about. Fuck the audition, he wanted her. He needed her and he didn’t even understand why or how she had become so much more to him in only a few weeks. A single night with her were worth more than hundreds with any other. She was the flame who lit his life on fire and while he was burning, he wanted to thank her for it and still ask her to stay a while longer.

Grayson nearly chuckled at the thought of calling her fire when she’s the coldest person he’s ever met. But she’s fire and ice – he fears the cold and craves the burn, both driving him insane, but he couldn’t stay away.

Yet he couldn’t move at all when the time came.

“Now you know my secret. Your audition is next month anyway. No need to pretend to care any longer.” She let her arm fall as the deafening ding of the elevator sounded, cutting Grayson off as he was left speechless, barely hearing anything but her somber goodbye. “Have a good night.” She forced a small smile before the door closed, leaving them both alone and with so many things left unsaid.

Tags: @xalayx @dolandolll @godlydolans @dolanstwintuesday @anything-dolan @peacedolantwins @maybgrayson @nowheredolan @graydolan12 @beautorigin @justordinaryjen @starrydolan @pitreshawn @grays-laugh

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan x y/n #grayson dolan x you #ethan dolan

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khoicesbyk · 4 years

Text

The Good Captain.

Author’s Note: This is my version of what book 2 of Distant Shores should be like. Y’know the book 2 that we readers of Distant Shores rightfully deserved! One more thing: in this fanfic, the MC’s last name has been changed to Bennett but; in the game it’s Carter. I decided to change it from Carter to Bennett; because Bennett sounds better to me. Also; her original occupation has been changed as well.

***Rated: Mature 18+. Contains sexual content, nudity, some violence and strong language.

***Bolded and/or italicized words are conversations and thoughts of the characters.

***Characters: Captain Edward Mortemer (LI), Kyra Bennett (MC), Robert Finnegan (Main Antagonist), Charlie, Ginny, Jonas, Maggie, Samuel, Octavia, Henry, Axton, Adelia, Kendrick and Oliver Cochrane (Side Characters)

***Disclaimer: All character names (except MC) and some dialogues belong to Pixelberry.

Current Word Count: 2,830 words.

Chapter 1: The Return: Part 1.

Ten weeks…

That’s how long it had been.

Ten long weeks since…Kyra Bennett was sent back to her own time.

Ten weeks since…she had felt ocean spray hit her face or felt the sea breeze in her hair.

Ten weeks since…she heard the pirate songs and tales.

Ten weeks since…she was taken from the most lovable band of pirate misfits.

Ten weeks since…she had the adventure of her or anyone’s life or lifetime for that matter.

It had been ten weeks since…she was ripped away from the arms of HER Captain. A GOOD Captain. A FIERCE Captain. A Captain who’s name is known across the seas…

Captain Edward Mortemer.

She missed the crew so much. But; she missed him most of all.

She often thought of him and the adventure they had together. The stolen looks and smiles they gave one another. And she DEFINITELY thinks about; the kisses and the one incredible night of raw passion, that they shared. She thinks about the night he captured her heart.

“I’m yours, Kyra…Until the end of time…”

“Now…I want the future we saw together. The adventure. The laughter.”

“Aye, especially the family.”

“Then I’ll savor every moment of this night. And I’ll wait for you.”

“Fate brought us together once. And I don’t believe this is where our story ends.”

“No. I told you, Kyra…you’ve taught me how to dream.”

His words…his promises…have played back in her head every day since; she was sent back to her time. Especially when she’s alone.

He was HER captain.

And the sex? Who knew an 18th century pirate could fuck like him? That was stuck in her head as well. The way he touched her, the way kissed her, the way he pleased her and especially what he said to her.

“I’ve thought of all the ways I could have you. All the ways I could take you.”

“I’ve been dying to taste you.”

Every time she thought back to those two statements; she couldn’t help but miss him all over again. And at night, when she sometimes lays awake; that’s when she finds herself wanting him. Needing him. Desperately craving him. There have been times where she’s waken up in a cold sweat, with her heart thundering in her chest because; she dreamt that she felt him.

She could still hear his voice in her ear. She could still feel his fingers on her skin. And; she could especially still taste his lips on hers. She wanted him. She deserved him. She craved him. She needed him. She was his as much as he was hers.

But he’s gone. He’s back in the past. And she; along with her heart and feelings are in the present. It wasn’t fair. When she closed the portal; she’d hoped that she would’ve been able to stay. Especially after seeing what was supposed to be her future with him. In her heart and in her soul; she wanted to stay with him and his crazy, lovable crew.

Why couldn’t she stay with him?

That was a question that lingered on her heart.

Ten weeks…

It has been that long since she last seen him.

Her captain. Her Edward.

This sexy beast was everything she wanted in a man.

He was fierce, protective, FIERCELY loyal, sorta funny (although she didn’t always laugh at his brand of “comedy”), commanding yet fair minded, smart, adaptive to changing situations, strong (in EVERY sense and definition of the word), snarky (whether he knew it or not; is another story) but mostly; he was drop dead gorgeous.

She never could understand why, he didn’t have a wife. All the single maidens in his home the island of Tiburon, swooned whenever he walked by.

So why didn’t he choose one of them?

Because once again; Edward was drop dead gorgeous! And for a black man in those days; that was a helluva gift.

He had to be 6’3ish although she was never quite sure (they didn’t exactly measure height in those days). He was blessed with the chiseled physique of a Greek God. His 18th century British tinged baritone, always managed to turn her into a puddle. His brown eyes were intense and always smoldering. Hell, there were times where she could’ve sworn; she was being undressed, by those very beautiful eyes of his. He has a devilishly charming smile and smirk that always stopped her cold in her tracks.

He’s also an excellent marksman and even better swordsman.

His hair was in long, beautifully flowing dreadlocks, that he always kept pulled back. And Lord knows; the man‘s got a cannon between his legs! If she had to guesstimate what his actual size was, she’d guess he had to be 8 1/2-9 inches from base to tip. And as she discovered; he knew what to do with it. His hands, like his arms and his back were strong.

That is Captain Edward Mortemer. She has so many memories of him; and that misfit crew of his. They became something of a family to her.

She will never forget the sword fight that she got into with Edward. Even though she lost; she had impressed him with how adept she was. That; and well she was a bit distracted. It was also the first time she’d ever seen him with his shirt off.

She will never forget; choosing to man the cannons with Jonas and Ginny (Ginny Girl as she was affectionately called). Learning sails with Kendrick or how to tie proper knots with Maggie. Fighting and defeating the backstabbing mutineers Octavia and Samuel (although his role in the mutiny came as a shock to everyone) on The Poseidon’s Revenge. Plundering her very first ship. Meeting the twins Adelia and Axton (Ada and Ax as they like to be called); and recruiting them to join the crew. There’s also learning how to properly shoot a pistol with Charlie. She didn’t really have that many memories with Henry; outside of his not so tasty cooking.

She’ll never forget; throwing wine in the face of Admiral Cochrane after telling him off. She even has the memory of learning that the mysterious Oliver (whom she met the night, the navy invaded Tiburon) is not only Lieutenant Oliver but he’s Admiral Cochrane’s son (not that she cared to know that tidbit of information). Then; there’s dancing with Edward at the Governor’s Ball and sneaking into the governor’s bedroom with Charlie.

Then; there’s her favorite memory of them all. Touching the pirate medallion and seeing the future; she thought she was supposed to have with Edward.

And what a glorious future it was! They had gotten married and settled down on Tiburon. Where she became pregnant with and gave birth to their son. She remembers standing on the hill and watching the sunset over the ocean. She remembers Edward coming up behind her, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and watching the sunset with her.

In that moment she was happy. That was supposed to be her absolute paradise. Her dream come true. She would have the man she fell in love with, and all would be right with the world.

But unfortunately; that happiness, that absolute paradise, that dream…would never come true. Because not only she see her dream come true but; she also saw her nightmarish reality. She was returned to future and Edward was nothing more than a lonely legend. And it became an all too painful reality; once they finally reached the center of Queen Magdalena’s temple.

All because; of what the inscription on the stone at the base of the portal told.

My heart is empty…

Time and space rent asunder…

The ancient artifact…

From my hand was plundered…

Return the compass…

And the fabric will be mended…

Peace restored…

All wounds rescinded…

The golden compass had to be returned to its rightful place; in order for time to be restored and the portal to be closed.

She knew what she had to do but that doesn’t mean she liked it; or even wanted to do it at all for that matter. But as she soon found out; sometimes life forces your hand.

A great battle soon ensued between The Captain and The Admiral. The two enemies locked horns and swords with each other.

Edward would eventually get the upper hand by; using his sword to pluck the golden compass out of The Admirals grasp. But it didn’t take the old bastard long to regain the upper hand once again.

For you see, in order to get to the heart of the temple; Kyra and Edward had to go through a series of booby traps.

Because what’s an ancient, very creepy and seemingly haunted temple without a few booby traps?

They able to dodge an axe that swung out of the ceiling. As well as the floor suddenly crumbling beneath their feet. But they weren’t able to dodge poisoned flying darts. Or at least Edward wasn’t able to dodge them. In an attempt to shield her from danger, his jacket was pierced by a dart. And what he thought was nothing but a scratch; turned out to be something much, much worse. He was slowly being poisoned and didn’t realize it, until he collapsed before they entered the heart of the temple.

She couldn’t let him die. She had to save him. And the only way to do that, was by restoring the compass to its rightful place. And so she did; she put the compass back where it belonged. And by doing so; she briefly gained the amazing power to reverse time itself. She used her power to get rid of the old bastard once and for all, reverse Edward’s wound and buy herself a few more hours in the past with Edward.

And once that was all done; she was sent back to the future. Back to the modern world and her modern life. Back to her job as a historian; at Smithsonian Museum of Natural History in Washington D.C.

She was tasked with researching for a new exhibit opening up about the golden age of piracy. And booyyy did she ever do her research! When she first started; she wanted to research and learn about, who the greatest black pirates was during the golden age. And all she could find was, the two conflicting legends of Black Caesar.

That was until one day when she got to work; there was a mysterious box just sitting on her desk. It contained an array of pirate artifacts. Including maps, letters, a diary of some sort, a few medallions, various coins, a sword and a compass. A golden compass.

“Well; what the hell am I supposed to do with all of this?!”, she thought to herself.

She had no idea that what was about to happen to her; would change her life forever.

After she came back from lunch one afternoon; and began writing her notes again, she noticed a strange glow coming from the inside the box with the pirate artifacts. When she opened the box she saw that; it was the compass that was glowing.

“Ooooooooooooookaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy…what the hell? Why is this thing glowing?”, she asked herself.

As she reached for the compass; she saw a face. A very handsome face. The face she saw was his.

“Kyra…I’m waiting for you…come find me…”, he said.

She initially backed away from the glow but; her curiosity won out in the end. She had to know who that handsome stranger was. She had to know what he meant. And so, she gathered up her courage and grabbed the compass. Little did she know that the compass; would be her key to the adventure of her life.

What was weeks in the past; wound being maybe a day in the future, when she got back.

Because she returned to where she was sitting at her desk. The box was still there. And when she looked in the box; everything was there. Even the compass. Only this time it wasn’t glowing. It had gone back to being just a regular compass. Time had truly gone back to the way it was. The only difference was her.

She had the memories of her adventure, of the crew and especially of him.

A few days later; she put her memories to paper. And the exhibit on the greatest black pirate of them all was born. It was an exhibit all about Captain Edward Mortemer and his crew. How they sailed the sea. How they outmatched and outmaneuvered The British Royal Navy. It turned him and the crew from criminals to heroes. It told the story of their trials and tribulations. And at the center was the golden compass and the sword.

She had the exhibit explain how precious they were to him; and the legends that followed his name and adventures. And she couldn’t have been prouder. The exhibit even brought her some form of closure. Or so she thought.

One night while Kyra was in her office working late on another project; there was this terrible glass break.

“What the hell was that?!”, she exclaimed.

When she got to the floor of the exhibit; she couldn’t believe who it was she saw standing there, with the compass in his hand.

It was Robert. He was alive and staring her down.

“Hello Miss Bennett! It’s nice to see you again!”, he said to her with a sinister tone in his voice.

“No fucking way! It’s impossible! You’re supposed to be dead! I watched the Admiral kill you!”, she said. She couldn’t believe what was happening.

”No he did. He indeed killed me. For a second anyway. You see, I would’ve stayed dead; if he hadn’t have shoved me through the portal, before you closed it that is. And as the inscription read: all wounds rescinded. Annnd here I am!”, he replied with a wicked grin.

“This is not happening!”, she told him.

“Ohhh…but is my dear girl! And now that I have the two items that I needed; my crew and I will be off!”, he said with glee in his eyes.

“Crew?! What crew?!“, she asked.

“Ohh…why them of course!”, he replied before gesturing for her to look behind her.

When she turned around; fear instantly gripped her heart and soul. Behind her; a crew of dangerous looking individuals seemingly melted out of the shadows. A crew of 8 men and 4 women stood at the ready.

“Miss Bennett…allow me to introduce my new crew!”, he says to her.

“But! You’re not a captain anymore.”, she replies.

“I am now!”, he replies in a tone that’s both sinister and gleeful.

“Wait! You’re actually going back?!”, she asks.

“Of course I am! Can’t unlock Poseidon’s tomb if I’m here, can I?”, he replies.

“What the hell are you rambling about?!”, she replied clearly confused.

“If you think that Queen Magdalena, was the only source of power in the seas; you clearly haven’t done your research.”, he told her.

“You’re still rambling!”, she replies.

“Here. Let me offer you a free history lesson. You know of Atlantis right?”, he asked.

“Yes, I know about the legends of Atlantis.”, she answered.

“Clearly you don’t girl! Because they’re not legends! They’re true!”, he tells her.

“Atlantis is the tale of Plato. And although he was a great philosopher; he was out of his mind! Atlantis is NOT real! It’s just a legend!”, she answers.

“Perhaps you’d like a demonstration; ohhh Pearson…”, he commands one of the pirates, “Miss Bennett…meet my first mate.”

Pearson, opens his hand to reveal a stone of some sort.

“What the hell is that?!”, she asks.

“This is a fragment of a key. A key to the greatest treasure of the seas”, he says to her.

“Meaning…”, she responds.

“Meaning…I’m about to go back to visit 7 sea lords. And take their key fragments.”, he tells her.

“The 7 lords of the seas is a myth! Robert you’re chasing ghosts!”, she says.

“No, I’m chasing greatness girl!”, he snapped at her, clearly agitated.

Part 2 coming soon! @txemrn @choicesficwriterscreations

#choices #choices fanfiction #choices tna #fanfic #khoicesbyk #pixelberry #choices stories you play #distant shores #captain edward #edward mortemer

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youllallriseintheink · 5 years

Text

Infinity: chapter 3- A way out.

Time to start the “where did this character end up?” game.

---

To Allison Pendle, immortality has been a blessing, but also a curse. In the past century since her transformation, she’d seen the downfall of Joey Drew Studios, joined a gang in which she worked under Lacie Benton and Shawn Flynn, gone through rehab, seen a multitude a countries, been a singer, an actress, a missionary, a mother, and a drug dealer, rubbed shoulders with Wally as a performing circus freak, gone to rehab, been rich, been homeless, tried almost every hobby imaginable, read more books, met more people, done more drugs, and had generally lived life to the fullest. The past little bit, though, she was bored with it. She’d begun to envy older people, who were able to slow down with age, and eventually die. And so, she eventually returned to Brightdale.

Brightdale as Allison remembered it, was a small and mostly unnotable little town, but it was a very significant place to Allison. It was where, in her time randomly traveling the country in her early twenties, she’d first discovered that witchcraft was real.

In present, the place had been deserted entirely. As Allison walked the empty streets lined with overgrowth, a delightfully haunted feeling came over her. She’d have to explore these dusty houses when she was finished with her mission. It was on the edge of town that she found the house of the witch she had stayed with and stolen from. Its windows and doors were thoroughly grown over with vines roots at this point. Thankfully, Allison had half-way expected the place would be patroled by some sort of guardian creature and had thus come prepared with a shotgun and a machete. There was nothing special about the foliage and it gave way fairly easily, allowing Allison in.

Within it, Allison found the place nearly untouched- nicely lit, no dust, nothing. Was the witch still here? Allison raised her gun and listened as creaking wooden steps gave away the old woman's presence. "I have a reversal shield on me. Don't try anything," Allison asserted. It was a lie, but not one to be taken lightly- casting a spell, especially an offensive one, on a reversal shield could very easily prove deadly.

"Allison?" the witch growled. "Very well, you fucking thief. What do want from me?"

"Ingredient number 30."

The old woman went to her spice cabinet, took out the ingredient, and threw it at Allison. "Anything else?"

"Well, there is something I'd like to ask you. You don't actually look like that, do you?"

The witch smiled wryly. "No... I actually look quite a bit like you. But you see, if I looked like you, then boys would be following me home all the time, getting to learn my secrets because they're after the one between my legs. It's protective to look like this."

Allison nodded. "That's what I thought. So," she pulled a recipe of sorts out of her pocket, "do you think this could kill you?"

The witch stared on in fear.

"Not that I want to kill you. I just think we should have the option."

---

It was the middle of the day when Henry received that very important letter (not the first Very Important Letter he'd received from someone in that bygone studio!). He had been in his office at the official headquarters of Disney, and the letter had been brought to him by his wife, Elaine. It read:

Dear Henry Stein,

This is one of the immortals. I have found a potion that can cure our immortality. If you'd like it, or just like to see the rest of us again, me in Brightdale, Ohio at seven at night exactly one week from today.

See you soon (oops, that sounds ominous),

-Allison Pendle

"What is it, honey?" Elaine asked. Elaine knew that Henry was immortal, along with with pretty much everything else about him. They'd been married for fifteen years now, from her late twenties to her early forties, and had fostered many children together. Henry loved her, and certainly didn't think of her as some mayfly pet. But he wouldn't have wanted to talk about this with anyone.

"Nothing," Henry responded, perfectly calm.

"Okay," Elaine said, leaving with a look on her face that suggested that she suspected things maybe weren't.

Henry immediately tossed the letter in the trash and attempted to focus on the paperwork on his desk- fourums on the theme park he was planning on building with the help of Bertrum Piedmont. Finding he couldn't, Henry turned over the sheet and turned to his oldest coping mechanism- drawing. He was good now- all that time loop stuff was forgotten. But he was never in a million, billion, trillion years going to risk seeing Joey Drew's face again. Infinity didn't scare him much nowadays, and it scared him infinitely less than that.

---

The next house that the letter found its way to was a big, but run-down. Not many knew it, but it was where a pair of extremely well-established drug lords operated. As of right now, there were several people passed out on the crack-dusted leather couches, one of them being Lacie Benton, who was hungover from having used more substances than she could name the night before. "Hey Lacie. Letter from your old lover is here," Shawn called.

"Which one?" Lacie returned.

"The Raven."

Lacie rolled her eyes. "It was one kiss. She wanted to try it. Are you going to tease me about that until the very ends of time?"

"Probably," Shawn replied, gathering up some crack from the end table and snorting it. He couldn't wait until their next shipment would arrive, later in the afternoon.

Groggy, she got up and took the letter from Shawn's hands.

"Oh my God."

"What? Is she coming back to us?"

"No, it's better than that. She wants to give us a suicide drug!"

Shawn shared her excitement. At this point, they were both due for life-sentences, and for them, that would mean jail for centuries or millennia. Not anymore. Not with these. They were going to that meeting.

---

"So, Samuel Lawrence, explain to us why we should allow you, a man currently on parole and with many, many felonies in your past however distant, become a priest."

Sammy took a deep breath. In a similar courtroom to the one he now stood in, he'd answered the same question five years ago when he'd argued why he should be allowed in a seminary. now he had to argue it again in order to be licensed. At very least, the church where he'd done his practicum had agreed to hire him if he got through this, so he wouldn't have to make this same speech a third time.

"Your honour. I do not deny my crimes. However, as you said, they took place now nearly a century ago. I led unofficial church groups in prison which turned many people to better behaviour. I has released from my sentence- 7 charges of attempted murder at eight years each and seven charges of first degree murder at twenty years each- literal centuries early for my good behaviour, an absolutely unprecedented decision. And as one of my letters of recommendation will tell you, I stayed in prison an extra year to support the people I'd met there. What's more, and I know this is old news to you, I am immortal. The amount of life experience I could gain is immense, and I want to climb my way up through the catholic church system so that I can pass it on. Even now, I am 133 years old. Through prison and in my music career before it, I heard the stories of more people than I can count. I have experience in dealing with the worst sinners, and as we all know, a church is a hospital for sinners, not a museum for saints. There are few people with as much life experience as me and fewer whose minds are still sharp. In short, I have made a positive impact on people's lives, and I want to get myself in a position where I'll be able to do that for as many people as possible. Thank you."

Sammy was breathing heavily from emotion as he finished his speech and sat back down. The judge said some words that Sammy barely registered about letting the jury decide. Sammy's stomach knotted up and he felt like either screaming or disappearing.

Half an hour later, he emerged from the courthouse elated, as a licensed priest. The letter was in his mailbox once he got home. Sammy laughed, then ripped it up. Today was the first step on the path to his destiny. Why would he in a million years want to die?

---

A copy of the letter came to Bickmore Insane asylum. The receptionist opened it and saw that it was addressed to one of the patients, Joseph "Joey" Drew. The receptionist did not feel badly for reading the patient's mail. For one thing, Joseph couldn't have read it anyhow. For another, Joseph honestly deserved it.

Rumour had it that decades ago- and it was decades, since Joseph was one of the immortals- Joseph had been given l a sentence spanning centuries for seven charges of attempted murder, twenty-something charges of murder, and innumerable charges of unlawful imprisonment. One of his victims had been the murder of a seventeen-year-old boy, and as a result, prison was not at all kind to Joseph. The other prisoners would beat the life out of him regularly, doing things to him that would kill most people, including giving him severe brain damage and forcing him to stumble around for hours on end as his brain repaired itself. As a result, Joseph was quickly moved to protective custody, and then to solitary confinement.

After the trauma of his treatment by the other prisoners and the solitary confinement had left him far too anxious and aggressive to be kept with the others, he was sent to Bickmore, where he at first seemed to make a quick recovery. There was, after all, a physical component to trauma, and Joseph's brain was just as resilient as the rest of him. But every time he seemed nearly ready to be transferred back to prison, he would cause a scene with panic visible in his eyes. He would begin to scream nonsense about beetles in his veins, throw objects, and attack faculty members and fellow patients. It didn't matter how many times it was explained to Joseph that he would be transferred right back to protective custody this time and the other prisoners would not be able to hurt him. Joseph did not want to go back to prison, and would do anything to buy himself more time.

As time went on, Joseph's apparent breaks from reality became more and more realistic. He would question faculty members about whether he was going back to prison, and attack them out of suspicion. The final straw, however, was when, on the first day he'd been allowed near other patients unsupervised since his last outburst, stabbed a 60-year-old schizophrenia patient with a butter knife and then a fork because he was convinced she was a spy for "the prison system." Joseph was pulled off of her, put into permanent solitary confinement, and sedated. Even now, he was in solitary, treated with the extreme care one would use for a dangerous beast, and kept heavily sedated.

Of course, the secretary didn't know any of that. Unless one had access to his files, that was all rumour- myth. She passed the letter onto her superior, who called Allison to ask that she send the drug. It was about time that someone put Joseph Drew out of his misery.

---

Thomas Connor had been making pancakes for his family when Boris brought him the mail in his mouth. Thomas smiled and took it with no word but a pat on Boris' head. The mail that day consisted of two letters and a newspaper. The first letter was just a bill, but the second one was from Allison Pendle.

What could that crazy bitch want from him? Thomas didn't know. A while ago he would have been mad, but now it had been so long that he honestly didn't feel anything. At least he had Alice to talk to if it was romantic. "Boris, could you take over for me?" he asked, moving over to the kitchen table to open the letter. Once he'd read it over, he crumpled it up, then uncrumpled it and found a fresh sheet of paper on which to write a reply.

Dear Allison

Thomas paused. He supposed he ought to keep this formal, at least at first, and wrote down her last name before continuing.

What are you up to? I don’t think I’ve seen you in person since that one time with the New York City Police.

Me, I’m still an engineer. Not for GENT- they went out of business a while after I left them. I’d worked for a few different places, but most recently (ha- “recently.” It was decades ago!) I’ve been hired by an elite team of researchers who were looking into the ink machine. We eventually figured out how to save the people within these ink shells. You see, some of them have a human soul and a toon presence, and some get a third, demonic presence mixed in. We just had to separate them and give them separate bodies. Or cubes, in the case of the demons and toons. Don’t want them running away on us, do we? Anyhow, the humans took first priority. I saved that Buddy kid that we met and kept him at my house for a few years so that he could finish his schooling. After we were done with the people though, some bleeding heart thought we should give proper bodies to the cartoons because they “had over two decades of life experience, could feel pain and emotion,” you see where this is going. I thought it was stupid, but I was being paid to be an engineer, and if this was to be my project, so be it.

Thomas stopped and looked up. An Edgar (yes, an. Thomas had two) was playing Snakes and Ladders with Bendy and Alice on the floor. Dog, who was one one of his three Borises and the only one who walked on four legs like, well, a dog, was currently getting confronted by two sets of Charleys and Barleys for making his other Edgar cry. The Boris lowered himself to the ground in a doglike show of submission and apology, which the butcher gang members seemed to accept.

I guess they were right. Bringing them all back was a gradual process, and we could adopt some of them out. You’d be surprised how few people want to adopt a bunch of living cartoons with a truckload of trauma and no knowledge of the real world, though. I ended up with eleven of them. And it was supposed to be temporary, but now there’s a whole bunch of em’ I don’t want to separate (butcher gang trios especially) and, well, I guess I’m stuck with them. Not that I don’t like them, but I kind of wish I weren’t so tied down. I feel like I could do great things as an engineer, and while I love my kids, I kind of don’t want them to be my eternity, you know?

So that’s all to say, no. I can’t die. Can’t abandon my kids. But I’d love to see you again. Maybe I could come into town and meet up?

-Your fellow immortal, Thomas Connor

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #my fanfiction #Unkillable Eternal and Infinite #allison pendle #Henry Stein #sammy lawrence #joey drew #Thomas Connor

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swanslieutenant · 5 years

Text

from the sea - chapter eight

Summary: When Emma becomes sheriff, the pressure of running a department with a dwindling budget becomes nothing but an exercise in frustration. That is, until she finds an unlikely ally in the town treasurer, a man who her kid Henry is convinced is not an ally at all, but rather a villainous enemy. Season 1 AU, Cursed!Killian.

Rating and Warnings: Teen.

Catch up: ch1, ch2, ch3, ch4, ch5, ch6, ch7

Read on AO3

_____

Bright and early Monday morning, Emma jogs up the steps to Granny’s, hand raised over her head to protect against the slight drizzle of rain coating Storybrooke in a misty, cool fog. Inside, there’s a few people in the queue at the till, and Emma steps into the line, rubbing her hands together for warmth.

As she’s stepping forward to place her order with Ruby, her phone dings with a text message, loud and insistent. Emma flashes Ruby an apologetic smile as she fishes her phone out of her pocket to a text from Mary Margaret – can you get some more dishwashing soap on your way home later? We’re all out.

Ruby taps her notepad absently on the counter, her lips curling into a knowing smirk at her as Emma answers the message.

“Wes sending you his order?”

“Hmm?” Emma says, absently, focused on her phone. She frowns then, registering Ruby’s sentence, and glares at her. “No.”

“You sure?” Ruby teases, leaning closer and dropping her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s strange to see you in here without him. I thought maybe you were getting breakfast for the both of you … to go.”

The implication makes Emma raise an eyebrow, and though she tries to keep her expression cool and unimpressed, her cheeks are starting to heat. She crosses her arms over her chest and clears her throat pointedly.

“A coffee and bear claw to go, please.”

“Just one coffee?”

“Ruby.”

She laughs as she writes the order down, ripping it off the pad and waving it pointedly at Emma, her eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m just saying, Emma. Wes is a nice guy. You could give him a shot.”

The words make Emma’s heart skip a beat, her throat closing in on itself at the immediate summoning of her growing discomfort and alarm. That’s not – she and Wes are friends. That’s it. That’s all.

(Even though she’s finding it easier and easier to be in Wes’s company, finding herself at ease with him in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. In a long time. Even though Wes is someone who defends her against his tyrannical boss and who spends his weekends humouring her kid’s outlandish theories. Who she finds herself thinking about more than she probably should be.)

Emma shakes her head firmly, tightening her crossed arms over her abdomen as if she could create a steel shield with their protection.

“That’s not – Wes and I are friends, Ruby. That’s it.” Ruby raises an eyebrow, smirking, and Emma hurriedly continues, as firmly as she can, “I’m here for Henry. Nothing and no one else, okay?”

Ruby regards her for a few seconds before she shrugs, raising her hands in surrender. “Whatever you say, Sheriff.”

She turns away to fulfill Emma’s order, humming to herself. Emma’s heart still feels like its beating half out of rhythm, and she lets out a deep breath to try to calm it.

Though those efforts are thoroughly squashed when her cell phone rings, shrill even from her pocket. Ruby sends her a pointed look over her shoulder as Emma fishes it out. She looks at the screen – now desperately praying it isn’t Wes, lest she has to see Ruby’s expression – and frowns. It’s an unknown caller, number obscured, and her eyes narrow in slight suspicion.

Who, with an unknown number, would be calling her, at quarter-past six in the morning?

“Hello?”

“Ms. Swan,” greets the silky voice on the other end, the voice of the one and only Mr. Gold. The way his tone curls around her name makes her stomach twist in unease, and Emma frowns.

“Gold? How do you have my cell number?”

He chuckles, a cool, dark sound. “I have a crime to report, Sheriff. Is it improper to call the sheriff when I have a crime to report?”

Emma grits her teeth. His smarmy voice makes her fists clench, but she makes a split-second decision that this isn’t a battle she wants to fight. Instead, she says, as sweetly as she can muster, “Yes, Mr. Gold. That is exactly what you should do. So, how can I help you?”

“I have reason to believe that some of the items I recently received from one of our fair citizens may be, in fact, stolen property. I would like to file a report.”

Something false echoes in his voice, and Emma’s lie detector piques. “Uh, okay,” she says, casting a look out the window to the pawnshop, the red closed sign in the door visible from here even across the foggy street. “I’ll be right there.”

“Wonderful.”

Gold ends the call swiftly, and Emma frowns at her phone as Ruby returns with her food and coffee. She puts her phone away, and shakes her head, already steeling herself for whatever nonsense Gold is about to present her with, and turns to go.

“Thanks, Ruby. See you later, I’ve got to run –”

“Wait, Emma –”

Ruby steps out from behind the counter, and Emma resists the urge to snap back at the waitress, her temper nearly spent from their earlier discussion of Wes and Gold’s smugness on the phone.

“Ruby, I really have to go, okay? And, no, that wasn’t Wes on the phone, that was Gold. I need to go see what he wants.”

“No, no, that’s not what I wanted to say – though it is interesting you just assumed I thought that would be Wes –”

Emma sighs, turning away. “Bye, Ruby –”

Ruby grabs her arm and tugs her back. “No, no. Listen – I’m sorry about bugging you. That’s not what I wanted to say.” She pauses, her usual confidence faltering, and her next words seem hesitant and more unsure: “I just wanted to see if you were interested in coming out to the Ladies’ Night tonight down at the Rabbit Hole with Ashley and I.”

Emma is taken aback, momentarily stunned. She – Emma is being invited to a Ladies’ Night? Her first reaction is to decline because Emma doesn’t do “Ladies’ Night.” She’s not a ‘let’s drink at a bar with girlfriends’ type of woman because, well, she doesn’t have girlfriends. For heaven’s sake, she doesn’t even have friends!

Though Emma can’t deny that that’s the case still; things have been changing since she arrived in this strange little town. She’s obviously friends with Mary Margaret now, and after all, she just spent the last few minutes trying to convince herself that Wes Newport is one of her friends too.

Ruby is looking at her expectantly, and Emma clears her throat, stalling for time. “Uh, tonight?”

Ruby’s eyes light up. “Yes! I was thinking that might be something you’d want to do. I – we go sometimes, not as often since Ashley had her baby, but I think it would be so nice if you came too! It’s always a fun time.”

Emma pauses again, considering. She likes Ruby, who always has a smile and a wry comment for her, even if the ones regarding the treasurer make her flush. Ashley is lovely too, and Emma finds herself wanting to know how things are going with her and her baby. She’s not sure who she’s becoming, someone who even considers going out to a Ladies Night, but first Emma has Mary Margaret as a friend, then Wes. Now maybe she can add a few more to that tally.

“That would be great, Ruby. Thanks – thanks for inviting me. I’ll see you there.”

“Great! Bring Mary Margaret too, yeah? I haven’t seen her in a while, she’s always busy these days. She must have some secret guy out there, keeping her busy.”

Ruby says it jokingly, seemingly unaware of just how true those words are, but Emma nearly chokes on her coffee she’d just taken a sip from. She quickly plays it off as the coffee being too hot and agrees to bring her roommate along too.

She hurries out of the diner, grinning to herself. Ruby spends her time teasing Emma about Wes, but if she only knew about Mary Margaret and David … Well, Emma thinks wryly, munching on the bear claw on the way over to the pawnshop, that will be something to talk about at this Ladies Night for sure.

_____

After another terrible, mostly sleepless night, Wes wakes up before his alarm clock, feeling as if he didn’t sleep a wink. Nightmares, revolving around a vaguely familiar man with curly black hair and a gleaming gold sextant identical to the one in the Maritime Museum, had woken him up on and off, until he’d finally drifted off from pure exhaustion at about four a.m. He scrubs at his eyes as he swings his legs out of bed, letting out a deep sigh, reluctantly rising to face the day.

On his way to work, he skips the coffee at Granny’s after seeing the large queue, instead suffering with the watery coffee at Town Hall when he arrives. He’s in the middle of setting up the coffee machine, finding he has to focus extremely hard to understand how to get it going even though he’s done it a thousand times before, when a voice speaks out from behind him.

“Have a nice weekend, Wes?”

Regina, in one of her striking black pantsuits and with her perfectly styled hair, is in the doorway of the staff room, a steaming cup of coffee in her hands. Her smile is pleasant enough, detached and cool like always, her question innocent and polite, but Wes is not in the mood to deal with whatever Regina wants from him today.

“Tiring,” he replies gruffly, turning back to the coffee machine.

Regina steps up beside him, leaning against the counter close enough to brush his shoulder. “Get up to anything exciting?”

Wes pauses, stir-stick half to his cup, glancing over to Regina. She’s watching him over the rim of her coffee cup, her eyes dark and cold, a calculating edge to them that he doesn’t usually see directed at him.

Wes straightens, his instincts heightening and turning as hard as steel. Regina is waiting for his answer expectantly, and while Wes feels a strange compulsion to tell her about his visit to the Maritime Museum, he has a strong instinct that confessing that he went there, with Henry and Emma (obviously behind her back, he’s realizing now) to boot, would end only in disaster.

“No,” he says, and he lifts the cup in a gesture of departure. “Off to work. Goodbye, Madam Mayor.”

He feels Regina’s eyes on him the entire way out of the staff room, burning a hole into his suit jacket, and it’s not until he’s in his office, door shut firmly behind him, that he’s able to take a deep breath again.

_____

Gold’s pawnshop is still shuttered when Emma arrives, tossing out her empty pastry wrapper into a nearby trashcan as she draws close. She peers in through the windowed door, looking for any sign of Gold within. The shop appears empty, and Emma tries the handle – the door swings open at her touch.

“Gold?” she calls out, stepping into the shop, hand drifting to the gun at her belt out of habit. “It’s Emma.”

“I’ll be right with you, Sheriff.” His voice drifts out from the back room, through the gently fluttering curtain. “Please, come in.”

Emma walks further into the shop, rubbing absently at her arms as a chill rushes down them. This place gives her the creeps, with its dim lighting and random assortment of objects sprawled out over glass display cases and hanging from the ceiling. A broken globe, a crystal mobile, a pair of creepy handsewn dolls, a steel tea set, numerous items of jewellery and watches and broken dishes, to name a few.

Lying out on the counter near the back of the shop, in a blue velvet display case, the gleam of metal catches her eye. She approaches it, and her heart skips a beat.

Nestled in the case is a curved, gleaming, silver hook.

Emma stares at it, her heart race stuttering as it picks up speed. She glances around, but Gold hasn’t emerged yet, and against her better judgement of touching anything in this place, Emma lifts the hook out of its case, the metal cold and smooth in her hands.

Seriously? What the hell?

She knows Henry isn’t always discreet with his theories about the fairy tale personas of the Storybrooke citizens, but what is this? Why does Gold, who hates Newport, have a hook, the embodiment of who Henry believes Wes to be?

“See anything you like?”

Gold has stepped out of the back room finally, leaning heavily on his cane as he steps into the main shop. Emma regards him as levelled and balanced as she can manage, her dislike of the man in front of her palpable. His expression is unreadable, but Emma has learned pretty quickly since arriving in this town that Gold is a snake, one who tries to rile up everyone and twist things to serve some sick agenda of his own.

And whatever he’s playing with here, taking out a curved silver hook, of all things, most likely knowing Henry’s thoughts about his hated enemy, Emma isn’t going to play into it with him.

“You have stolen property to report?” she asks coolly, setting the hook back into its velvet case.

“Indeed,” Gold replies smoothly, limping over to stand behind the counter. He glances to the hook, his lips lifting slightly to a cool smirk. “Exquisite, isn’t it?”

Emma ignores him. “Where’s the property, Mr. Gold?”

“You know, I’ve dealt with my fair share of criminals in my time, Ms. Swan,” he replies, his words slow and measured. “I often receive stolen property as a part of my work, from desperate souls trying to scrounge together any meagre existence they can. But this … this I was surprised to receive.”

He gestures to the hook. Emma frowns, a prickle of unease rising on the back of her neck. It’s not a lie, per say, but there’s an edge of dishonesty to Gold’s voice too, just as she heard over the phone earlier.

“It’s stolen? How do you know?”

Gold sighs, grimacing. “Ah. Well, I was actually mistaken. I thought it was stolen, but … it seems that I’ve brought you here for nothing. My apologies.”

He says it so casually, now smiling at her, innocent and nearly apologetic. Emma isn’t fooled. Whatever this hook is, whoever it belongs to, Gold is trying to make a point here. And Emma really isn’t in the mood for whatever it is.

She shakes her head, and turns on her heel. “Fine. Whatever. When you have a real complaint, Mr. Gold,” she continues, half-way to the door now, “then you can call me.”

She wrenches the door open, casting a dark glance behind her as she goes. Gold is still at the counter, though now he’s lifted up the hook, its sharp point gleaming in the window light.

“Will do, Sheriff. Will do.”

_____

After a boring and day of little to no work being achieved, Wes drops onto the couch in his living room, exhaustion dripping from his bones. He has no energy to make a meagre excuse of supper or even change out of his stiff clothes – he lies flat on his back, staring up at the wide beams of his ceiling, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

Unlike the previous night, this time the exhaustion is overwhelming, and sleep comes easy.

And, just as easily, so do the nightmares.

He’s thrown into the dream immediately. It’s the man from the dream earlier that day, the curly haired man with the golden sextant. This is a much different dream, darker and heavier even amidst the sun-soaked, white-washed cabin. He and the man are discussing reporting something to a higher command, when the man suddenly drops to the floor, calling out a name Wes doesn’t know.

Killian, help –

Or does he know it?

He can’t dwell on it, as the dream carries on, his dream counterpart cradling the man as he dies in his arms, crying out for help that never comes. The deepest feelings of loss and grief and pain swell in his chest then, nearly crushing in their hollowness, and when he finally jolts awake, panting and confused, the grief doesn’t fade.

For a wild moment, with his apartment awash in the bright lights of his kitchen and living room, the thick wooden beams of his ceiling make him wonder if he’s back in that cabin, and he sits straight up. It takes seeing his books and belongings scattered around the room to set his mind straight. With a deep sigh, he scrubs at his eyes, finding them damp and his cheeks wet. He rubs the tears away, unnerved, and takes a steadying breath.

The dream, like the one from that morning, had felt so real, as if he was really there with that dying man. He had felt the loss and grief at this man’s death deep in his soul, the gaping hole it ripped into his life, as if he’d truly felt the feelings once before.

The name the dying man had shouted at Wes’s dream-self slips through his fingers like water as he tries to put his finger on it. He fumbles for it, desperate to latch onto it, but it’s totally gone, a whisper on the wind.

He lets out another sigh, and shakes his head. These dreams – he has had enough of them. He’s going to have to go see Dr. Whale soon about them soon; maybe he needs some sort of sleeping pill to knock him out to get a good night sleep, dreamless preferable.

Though perhaps he doesn’t need Whale’s medication for help right now … he hasn’t thought this in a long, long time, but Wes really needs a drink.

Before Regina helped him get the treasurer’s job, an unnecessary and cruel death he’s still not sure he’s ever gotten over had taken him down a dark, dangerous path. He’d drank heavily nearly every night, wasted away years and years of his life at the bottom of a bottle. Since getting the job, the long nights of wallowing and the resulting painful mornings have tapered off; it feels like it’s been decades since he’s actually had a drink, though he strangely can’t think that that’s quite right. It hasn’t been that long, has it?

He rises from the couch, and pads over to the kitchen. The cupboards are devoid of alcohol, a testament to his usual mindset, and he heads to the front door instead. His hand hovers over his black peacoat, but something comes over him, and grabs a black leather jacket, one he hasn’t worn in what feels like forever. The jacket settles snugly over his shoulders, a familiar feeling of confidence and pride as fitting as the jacket, and he heads out into the early evening air.

_____

Emma, though she’s getting tired by the time her shift ends, having been up since nearly dawn that morning, heads towards the Rabbit Hole anyways. She would prefer going home to sleep, but she made a commitment to her friends and she’s going to honour it.

(Seriously, who is she becoming?)

Ashley ended up not being able to make it – new baby and all – but Ruby and Mary Margaret have already claimed a table near the centre of the bar when Emma arrives. Both of them have clearly had a few drinks already, giggling at each other, and when Emma arrives, dropping her bag onto the table to announce her arrival, they turn their giggles to her.

“You got here just in time, Emma,” Ruby says, her voice low and suggestive. “Look who’s over at the bar.”

Emma sighs, already sure she knows who she is referring to, but twists in her seat to look behind her at the bar. Sure enough, Wes Newport, in an uncharacteristic black leather jacket, is sitting slumped slightly forward on his bar stool, head bent over a half-empty glass of amber liquid.

“I didn’t take him for a big drinker,” Mary Margaret says absently, taking a long sip from her own glass. “I think that must be his sixth or seventh drink, and he was here even before us.”

Emma frowns. Wes is facing away from them, and unless they had pointed him out, Emma’s not sure she’d have realized it was him. His posture is like that of a different person, far more casual and laidback than she’s ever seen him, and his leather jacket is highly out of character. Emma considers going over to see what has led him to drink alone, but she changes her mind. This is Ladies Night, after all. She turns back to the table, smiling and pulling the menu towards herself.

“So, what were you two laughing about?”

They exchange a look, Mary Margaret shaking her head with a small smile, casting a long look over to Wes, and Ruby sighing dramatically.

“What?” Emma demands.

Ruby presses the menu to the table, tugging it out of Emma’s hands, and looks at her pointedly. “Emma, just go say hello. It won’t kill you.”

She shakes her head, trying to pull the menu back. “No, no. It’s Ladies Night. I came here to spend time with you guys.”

“And saying hello isn’t going to change that,” Mary Margaret says gently, resting a hand over the menu to flatten it to the table. “Go on.”

Emma hesitates, torn between her instinct to check on Wes and to stay. But Mary Margaret and Ruby are getting that look to their faces, and Emma sighs, getting to her feet.

Is this what it’s like to have friends? she thinks absently, feeling rather like a girl in high school sent off to go talk to her crush at the school dance. If this is it, she’s not sure if she likes it, not with the giggles following her all the way over to the bar.

Wes doesn’t notice her right away, preoccupied staring into his glass. Emma wipes her hands on her jeans, finding them suddenly clammy and sweaty, before clearing her throat.

“Hey, Wes.”

He turns, quite unsteadily on the stool, and smiles in surprise. “Swan,” he says, leaning back slightly to get a better look at her, his eyes gleaming in the dim light of the bar. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He’s quickly put on that face of his, the one she’s associated with him using to mask something being wrong, just like at the Farmer’s Market. Still, there is something dark and sorrowful in his eyes he isn’t quick or sober enough to conceal.

“You okay there, Wes?”

He tips his glass towards her, the liquid inside nearly spilling out onto the bar, and he slurs, “What makes you think I’m not perfectly fine?”

“You’re alone, drunk at a bar and it’s not even ten yet.” She looks him up and down, eyebrows raising. ”And you’re wearing leather.”

“I am not drunk,” he protests, but the thicker edge to his accent roughening his words simply makes Emma snort. “And I like this jacket. You certainly like leather, don’t you, Swan?”

Emma’s mouth falls slightly open at that, the undercurrent of his question loud and clear to her, and she’s temporarily at a loss for words, a situation Emma doesn’t find herself often in.

“Uh –”

He smiles at her dumbstruck expression, a dark smirk that sends shivers down her spine and settles low in her stomach. He leans towards her, holding out the glass to her in offering, and says, lowly, “Here for a drink, Swan?”

“No,” she says, firmly, but she’s unsure of whom she’s trying to be firm for, her or him. He looks unconvinced, and she adds, even though she doesn’t own an explanation, “I’m working early tomorrow.”

“So otherwise you would have one,” he notes, taking a swig of his glass again, swallowing with a wince at the bite of the drink. “Interesting.”

Emma rolls her eyes – so this is who he is as a drunk: a flirty mess. She picks up the glass when he sets it down, drawing it close and sniffing.

“Straight rum? Wouldn’t have taken you for the type.”

He blinks, slowly, and suddenly he’s staring at the glass as if he’s seeing it for the first time. He shakes his head, and a dark shadow crosses over his eyes, his grin fading into a frown, brows furrowing.

“I’m not,” he mutters darkly. “Not anymore, anyways. Don’t know what came over me tonight.”

Emma narrows her eyes at him, slightly unnerved by the sudden change in his demeanour. “Wes,” she says softly, leaning closer so she can stare at him, noticing the dark shadows under his eyes, the paleness to his skin. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Really? Come on. This isn’t like you.”

“What isn’t?” he snaps, and Emma blinks, taken aback at his sudden sharpness, and she cross her arms over her chest, hackles rising.

“The – well, the drinking until you’re almost unconscious for one. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

He lets out a cold laugh, low and dark, and this time the goosebumps that sends down her back are not as pleasant as before. “Oh, Swan. You don’t know me very well at all.”

“Right,” Emma says, her heart sinking. She’s not sure why that stung her so badly, and she shakes her head, taking a step back. “Okay, well, I’ll leave you be then –”

Before she can get too far, Wes’s fingers close firmly around her wrist, his hand strong and sturdy, tugging her back.

“No, wait – sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry, Emma.”

It’s the use of her first name that makes her pause, and she leans back against the bar. “Okay. But, Wes, what is going on? Is something wrong?”

He’s silent for a few moments, staring at the polished surface of the bar as if it holds answer to her question. Then he shakes his head, a wry chuckle escaping him. “You’ll think I’m mad.”

Emma doesn’t know quite what to say to that. She casts a glance over her shoulder to Ruby and Mary Margaret, who are watching her closely. They send her quizzical looks, and though Ladies Night is about making friends and having a good time with them … Emma know she can’t do that, not when Wes is sitting here, staring into the bottom of a glass.

After all, he’s her friend too.

She pulls back the seat beside him, dropping into it and bumping his shoulder with hers, as friendly as she can be.

“Try me.”

He smiles at her, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he closes his eyes, rubbing at them with his fingers. “You won’t like what I have to say. But … I think your lad’s stories are getting to me.”

Emma, who’d been adjusting her seat on the uncomfortable bar stool, bangs her knee hard against the bar. “He – what?”

“I told you you’d think I’ve lost it,” he mutters, and he opens his eyes again to meet Emma’s gaze. His eyes, half-blurry from all the alcohol, are dim and sad. “Even I think I’m losing it.”

True, Emma’s thoughts are headed in that same direction, or at least that he’s clearly heading into that crazy drunk phase, but she shakes her head in disagreement anyways.

“No, Wes. What do you mean? How has his stories ‘got to you’?”

He is quiet for a few moments, looking incredibly reluctant, before shaking his head with a dark grimace. “Just remember when you’re locking me up in the mad ward of the hospital – I was sane enough at one point to agree that I think I’ve lost it too.”

He drops his eyes down to focus on the polished bar instead of her and continues, “Ever since that day when you told me about your boy’s book, that day when we had coffee after the market, I’ve – I’ve been having dreams of pirate ships and swordfights and sailing and the like. Constantly. And I know it’s stupid, it’s crazy, but these dreams, they’re not just dreams. I don’t know how to describe it, they’re more like …” he pauses, and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I just – I just have trouble getting to sleep these days because of it.”

Emma stares back at him, her heart racing. It’s illogical and unreasonable, but her thoughts instantly jump to a man who also told her he was having bad dreams, days before he dropped dead of a heart attack in her arms. She’s never questioned Graham’s strange comments before, but now, with Wes saying similar things too …

But before she can even think of something to say, her mind stuttering and tripping over whatever conclusion it’s trying to draw, when Wes lets out a dramatic sigh, and nearly falls off the barstool in the process. Emma’s quick reflexes steady him, and he slumps forward against the bar, groaning. His momentary clarity in telling her about his dreams seems to have faded, and he’s back to his drunken self, slumped and muttering.

Though her mind is still stuck on his comments of the dreams, Emma’s sheriff-ing instincts kick in. He’s in no state to remain here any longer, and certainly not up for any questions about whatever the hell those dreams are.

She tugs on his arm to make him sit upright again. “Alright, buddy. I think it’s time for you to go home.”

He grumbles but allows her to pull him to his feet anyways. After rummaging in his pocket for a moment, he withdraws his wallet and places enough bills down to cover his tab and then some. “Fine.”

Emma hesitates, watching him stumble nearly back into the bar as he attempts to move away from her. She follows him a few more steps towards the door, side-stepping a few other patrons and nearly crashing right into Sidney Glass as he rises from his own table.

“Sorry, Sidney, excuse me. Wes, wait!” She hurries up to him, and grabs his arm, stopping him from leaving the bar. “How are you gonna get home?”

“Walk, I’spose,” he mumbles, stepping off into an unsteady teeter. “S’not far, I’ll make it.”

“You can barely walk two steps, let alone several blocks.” She shakes her head, and her mind is made up in an instant. “I’ll drive you. Wait here, I just need to grab my bag.”

He opens his mouth to protest but Emma is already moving away from him, and she re-joins Mary Margaret and Ruby at their table. To her relief, neither makes any dry comments, instead their brows furrowed in identical concern.

“Is he okay?” Mary Margaret asks worriedly. “He looks really out of it.”

Emma shoots a glance over her shoulder, gathering her purse. Newport has leaned against a table again, much to the apparent annoyance of its occupants, his head buried in his hand, and Emma frowns.

“I’m gonna give him a ride home. He’s … he just needs to go home and go to bed.” She starts to turn, but then faces Mary Margaret and Ruby again. “Sorry about Ladies’ Night. I – I really wanted to spend time with you both.”

“That’s okay,” Ruby says, smiling genuinely. “Next time.”

Emma smiles in gratitude, and then hurries back over to Wes. She rests a soft hand on his back, and he looks up to her with bleary eyes as she guides him out of the bar.

The cold air of the evening seems to sober him up just a bit, and as they approach her car, comes to a stop, scratching behind his ear, mouth in an uncomfortable grimace.

“Swan, thanks for the offer, but I’m fine, really –”

“Wes, shut up and get in the car.”

He turns his grimace to her then. “I really don’t –”

Emma, who is not letting him walk home in this state, sighs and unceremoniously shoves him into the passenger seat of her car. He protests again, but she cuts him off by slamming the door shut, and jogs around to the other end. Mercifully, he is quiet when she gets in, having settled himself against the cool glass window, his eyes pinched shut.

“Don’t pass out on me,” Emma says, elbowing him slightly to make sure he’s still awake; he mumbles something incoherent back to her. “Not until we’re at your place.”

She remembers where his apartment is from having dropped him off previously. He probably could have made it there himself, she reckons, but it is better to be safe than sorry. She’d much rather make sure he arrives and conks out there than have a call later about him passed out in the bushes.

When they arrive, Emma gets out of the car with him make sure he actually makes it into the apartment itself and he leads her to the third floor. He nearly wipes out twice on the stairs up, before finally stopping in front apartment five and leaning against the wooden door frame for support.

“Alright,” he grumbles. “I will concede that I may have had one drink too many.”

Emma snorts. “One. Try six.”

He pulls out a meagre key ring from his pocket, fumbling with them for a bit before finally finding the correct one to unlock the door. Emma hesitates at the door, before following him into the apartment. She figures she better at least make sure he’s got a glass of water and a couple aspirin for the morning before she leaves. That’s what friends do for their friends when they’ve had too much to drink, right?

His apartment is smaller than hers and Mary Margaret’s, and much emptier. A simple white couch is against the far wall, a faded wooden coffee table in front of it, cluttered with open books. Beside that is a white-stone fireplace, its mantle covered in even more books, and against the opposite wall is a closed door she assumes leads to the bathroom. Like Mary Margaret’s, a staircase leads up to a small loft area and Emma can see his neatly made bed up there, as well as a low set of drawers. Behind the stairs is his small kitchen, with a single white chair at the table against the wall.

As her gaze sweeps around, she notices Wes is standing somewhat uncertainly in the middle of the room, jacket half-off, as if he’s suddenly forgotten where he is.

“Wes?” Emma asks gently, coming up beside him. “Are you okay?”

He starts and shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. “Aye. I just …” he trails off, and sighs. “I just need some sleep, I think. I haven’t slept a lot lately.”

He says it lightly, as if not remembering what he told her at the bar, and Emma swallows heavily. He’s in no state to discuss this dream business and saying that Henry is getting to him now, much as she wants to, and she nudges him towards the bathroom.

“That’s probably a good idea. You go get ready and I��ll get you some water.”

He moves away with a small nod, disappearing into the bathroom as Emma heads into the kitchen. She opens several cupboard doors before she finds the ones with the cups, and then starts the sink to get him some water.

As she waits for him to finish up in the bathroom, Emma looks around some more, unable to stop her curiosity.

It reminds her of somewhere, but where she cannot place. The apartment is as neat as she’d expect from Wes Newport, not even a cushion on the sofa at a wrong angle. But, it still doesn’t feel quite like what she thought. Apart from the sound of the running water in the bathroom, the apartment is entirely too quiet, and Emma rubs her arms against the sudden chill sent running down her spine.

She realizes, then, that it reminds her of her old apartment in Boston. It looks nothing alike, but the same emptiness fills the space. A place to sleep, to eat, to return to at the end of each day, but not a home. The only sign that this place is even lived in is the open books on the coffee table and a couple of dishes drying beside the sink. No loose sweaters strewn anywhere, no scribbled reminders pinned to the fridge, no pictures of any of his family or friends anywhere. In fact, the only picture at all is a large painting hanging above the white sofa. Looking at the painting further, a thrill of disbelief runs through her.

It is of a large, masterful ship at a rickety dock, and she recognizes it instantly: it looks exactly like the one from the museum and Henry’s book. The drawing has no colour, but it still has the distinctive bands on its hull that Emma knows to be yellow and red, and hell, even the rigging looks the same. She steps closer, and her hand rises up, almost touching the painting.

No way.

“Did you draw this?” she asks, before she can stop herself.

“Huh?” he calls from the bathroom, his voice muffled.

She searches the painting further, and finds the artist’s name in the bottom corner, declaring it the work of someone named Milah. She lets her hand drop, and she steps back, shaking her head.

“Never mind!”

Its likeness to the ship she’s seen multiple times now is stunning, and Emma is too unnerved to stay by it for any longer. First Gold pulling out a hook, Wes talking about pirate nightmares, and now seeing a picture of a pirate ship … Emma has had enough of that crap today.

She returns to the kitchen, gazing out the window over the sink. It has no curtains, and Emma can see the boardwalk and ocean outside. It’s a calm night, and the moonlight flickers brightly against the gentle waves of the water.

“It’s quite the view in the day,” Wes says from behind her, and Emma jumps a little, not having heard him exit the bathroom.

He’s changed now, into a loose black shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair damp and his face a little red from washing it. It’s the most dressed down she’s ever seen him; he has removed his prosthetic, the end of the sleeve of the long shirt hanging empty at his side.

“Nothing but ocean for miles.”

“Uh, I bet that’s nice.”

He nods, reaching out for the glass of water in her hand. “Thanks, love.”

Emma nods, and suddenly she’s not sure what to do with herself, standing in his apartment with him in his pyjamas and clearly ready for bed. “Um, do you have any aspirin?” she asks, if only for something to say. “For tomorrow morning.”

He nods and waves his left arm absently behind him. “Aye, upstairs.” He takes a drink from the glass, and then it towards her in a salute. “I’d ask you to stay for a real drink, but –”

Emma laughs, and his smile turns cheeky. “But you’ve had far too many already,” she finishes, smirking. “Maybe another time.”

“Another time?” he repeats, an eyebrow raising suggestively. “Is that so?”

She rolls her eyes, but inside she’s grinning despite herself. “Drinking turns you into a creep, got it. Now, are you able to climb those stairs by yourself or do I need to stick around to make sure you don’t break your neck by falling down them?”

He snorts at her. “I’ll be fine, Swan. Don’t worry about me.”

She smiles back, and with her job done – gotten him home, gotten him water, made sure he has pain killers for tomorrow – there’s no other excuse to linger.

“I suppose I better be going,” she says, and turns to face the door. “It’s getting late.”

He nods, walking with her to the door. As she opens it, he rests his hand on her arm, stopping her gently, and Emma glances up to him. He’s got an earnest expression to his face now, soft and warmer than she’s seen on him before.

“Thank you for getting me home safely, Emma. I appreciate it.”

Emma nods, and smiles warmly back at him. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

_____

From her car, parked across the street of Wes Newport’s apartment building, Regina watches Emma Swan leave the building about ten minutes after they arrived together. Emma doesn’t notice her as she gets into her own obnoxious yellow car and drives off, but Regina lingers, watching the lights remain on in Newport’s apartment.

She’s been unnerved by Newport’s attitude the past few weeks, ever since his friendship with Emma Swan had begun, and seeing Emma Swan leave his apartment, late at night, only makes her unease grow. She’d driven here to check in on this, after Sidney reported seeing them at the bar leaving together.

Not to make a pun, but this is getting out of hand. And not to make another pun, but she’d left this in Gold’s hands to handle, with no choice after he said the magic word – please.

So, she’d left her unease and discomfort with this situation with him, and look where it’s gotten her. Newport defying her wishes at every turn, lying to her about his whereabouts on the weekend, and now the two of them cozying up at the local bar before she drove him home after he drunk far too much, Wes acting more like the pirate he used to be than her treasurer.

Regina starts the car as the lights finally wink out in Newport’s apartment, content for now that there won’t be any more trouble this evening. She drives passed her house and out to her father’s mausoleum in the cemetery.

The cemetery is deserted, and as she steps into the vault, she takes a deep breath in of the damp smell, imagining it to be the tangy flavour of magic that she left behind so many years ago now.

Though, she thinks with a faint smirk, things are starting to change here. While she’s not pleased with that at all, the only advantage to this most unfortunate of situations is that with Emma Swan’s continued presence here in Storybrooke, Regina is finding that Gold’s pleases are losing their power. After all – she shouldn’t have been able to follow up on Sidney’s note of their presence together. His please should have kept her away.

But it didn’t.

And with that, with the final pun she’ll make about this, she knows she has the upper hand again, over Gold, over Emma Swan, over Wes Newport. Storybrooke is hers, as is everyone within this town, and she is not going to allow this, whatever this is between the sheriff and the treasurer to continue any further. Regina has had enough, and no matter the cost, no matter the price, she’s going to get her town back.

#cs ff #cs mc ff #cs fic #captain swan #ouat #from the sea #hope this one is ok #i had fun with it

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thebibliomancer · 6 years

Text

Essential Avengers: Avengers #186: Nights of Wundagore!

August, 1979

And yet this issue features exactly zero Wundagore Knights. Missed opportunity is all I’m saying.

Also, we’re back to faces of varying degrees of pissed off and indifferent on the cover.

AND. WE LOST MINI-VISION WHO WAS ALWAYS IN THE LOGO! I didn’t notice but last issue didn’t have mini-Vision! Whether standing and pouting or phasing through the A and also pouting he’s been with us since... ISSUE 93!

CHANGE IS BAD!

Also bad is Wanda’s expression on the cover. This is nitpicky but the terror gape doesn’t work for her. I accept that she’ll end up in distress quite a lot and some of that distress will be for dumb reasons like Sentinels wanting to use her womb to kill all life on Earth.

But I think an expression like ‘fuck you and your wi-fi shirt’ would be more fitting. Its certainly more fitting to how she handles it within the comic. Which we’ll get to. As soon as I stop complaining.

...

So last time: after a mentally dubious old man entered their lives and tried to kidnap them by stuffing their souls into puppets, Wanda and Pietro (aka Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver) decided to willingly go with this attempted kidnapper back to Europe to find out if he’s their real dad or whatever. They thought their real dad was the Whizzer but if your dad called himself the Whizzer wouldn’t you entertain possibilities?

Shortly after arriving, Wanda was convinced by Modred, the Wi-Fi Wizard (not his real title) to come with him up a spooky mountain. He offered no reason for this so she followed him anyway. Inevitably, it turned out he had sinister motives and shot her in the back.

The following morning, Quicksilver went looking for Wanda but then fell down a mountain after bonking off an energy shield. It was, perhaps unintentionally, hilarious. He was rescued by Bova, the cow-woman nursemaid who helped birth him.

On the Avengers side of this Avengers book, through a sequence of events that were partially but not entirely Hawkeye’s fault, the Avengers lost their special government privileges and times were tough for a while. They finally managed to get them back but in exchange had to suffer the SJW agenda of Agent Henry Peter Gyrich who thinks that the Avengers should have an African-American on the roster. THE FIEND. The takeaway from this is that the Avengers are under the thumb of Gyrich and also Falcon is on the team. Yay, Falcon!

And now: “The most bizarre Avengers epic ever told!”

Which. I’m just going to go right ahead and state for the record. Unless it has someone marry a tree, second-place is the best it can get. I don’t care how much baby fraud is involved.

So. Quicksilver wakes up in the cabin of Bova who makes him some milk soup to help restore his strength.

I don’t want to know the level of making it involved. And damn you Mark Gruenwald, Steven Grant, and David Michelinie for specifically making it milk soup, thus raising the question.

Anyway. Some hot soup. He’ll need it to endure THREE PAGES OF EXPOSITION AND RETCON.

Bova is dropping some backstory truth bombs.

Starting with her own backstory. She was once a simple cow but then the High Evolutionary turned her into a cow woman because he was going to make a lot of genetically engineered animal human babies and as a busy science guy he wasn’t going to be raising these babies himself.

During a period while he was busy making anthropomorphic animals and perhaps causing Jessica Drew’s origin story, a pregnant refugee named Magda came to Wundagore.

She was fleeing a megalomaniac husband with strange powers and dreams of world conquest. Afraid that his madness would corrupt the children, she fled before he even found out she was pregnant.

Oh and lets not be vague, although the comic is.

MAGNETO MASTER OF MAGNET is Quicksilver’s new daddy.

Although since Bova herself never found that out neither does Quicksilver here.

Anyway, since Bova was in charge of all babies she made an executive decision to extend asylum to Magda. The High Evolutionary was busy doing science stuff with Jonathan Drew in the towers of Wundagore. He won’t mind.

Bova and Magda became close over the weeks so that when it came time to cow midwife for Magda “it was more privilege than duty.”

Weirdly, Wanda was a glowing baby, thus heralding the beginning of Quirks and the hero society!

No, no.

But it was a weird portent. Baby Wanda glowed just as the mountain was doing so. That probably bodes.

Oh, and then Magda died.

Not in childbirth, as you might suspect. No, she just packed up and wandered off into the snow to die some days after giving birth.

Because if she were alive Magneto might find her and find out that he had children.

Wait a damn minute.

Two kids. Evil dad. Mom dies. ... Did George Lucas rip off this story when making Revenge of the Sith?

I don’t think we can prove he didn’t.

Anyway. I GUESS Magda just assumed that Bova would take care of her children forever?

Joke’s on her.

Bova immediately goes to the High Evolutionary like ‘I have these two extra babies, what do?’

(Also weird bit of continuity here: the High Evolutionary is remarked as looking weary from some great conflict at this point in the story. Apparently during Magda’s stay in Wundagore, the High Evolutionary had been busy battling the demon Chthon alongside his Knights of Wundagore, eventually banishing the demon with the power of SCIENCE and ABOMINATIONS AGAINST NATURE. Of course this all happened because some jerk werewolf who killed Jessica Drew’s mom tried to use the Darkhold to cure his lycanthropy. What a jerk.)

Anyway, despite being tired from kicking demon ass, the High Evolutionary decided to help deal with all these extra babies. As long as he can do it in the laziest way possible that doesn’t involve child-endangerment.

So the High Evolutionary summoned Robert and Madeline Frank (the Whizzer and Miss America) who were visiting Transia while Madeline was pregnant.

Transia has unexpectedly high traffic for such a tiny Balkan nation.

The plan was that Bova would just sort of. Give the Franks two extra babies after Madeline gave birth. And. Hope she didn’t notice that two of these babies are several days old instead of newborns and also don’t question giving birth to triplets.

This is a good plan.

Unfortunately, radiation makes fools of us all. Remember how that was a thing that Madeline had accidentally been exposed to a ludicrous amount of radiation?

Her baby was born deformed and stillborn. And Madeline herself died shortly after birth.

Bova tried to make lemonade out of the situation by offering two healthy suspiciously not newborn babies to Robert Frank but as discussed in the previous and now fake origin for Wanda and Pietro, Robert Frank (aka the Whizzer) is really bad at dealing with grief.

He ran the fuck away, leaving behind two babies with a bemused cow-woman midwife.

So the High Evolutionary decided to get EVEN LAZIER (but still with zero child endangerment).

Forget shenanigans and baby shell games.

The High Evolutionary just went to a Roma (and no, not the word used) tribe camped nearby, went up to Django and Marya Maximoff and yelled HEY DO YOU WANT SOME FREE BABIES??

Since the Maximoffs had recently lost their own children Ana and Mateo they responded most logically to this floating, glowing, shouting pink armor man and accepted these free babies.

And that is the completely straightforward and completely accurate backstory for Wanda and Pietro that explains why they had memories of growing up in a Roma tribe, why the Whizzer thought that they were his kids, and why their secret parentage is much more exploitable for drama.

And now that everything is straight I’m sure this story will never change again or get more complicated.

Despite how simple this explanation is, Pietro finds it all hard to remember. Bova attributes that to the trauma of loss, believing his foster parents had died. Then again, the multiple concussions he must have suffered in the course of his superheroic career constantly running headfirst into stuff may have played a part.

Quicksilver brings up that despite all this explanation he still doesn’t know who his dad is.

Bova: “Then take my word that you know enough! Please!”

More importantly, Bova tells him to get his sister and then get the hell away from Wundagore. There’s danger afoot. Ahoof? No, she has hands and apparently feet. Afoot.

But when she learns that Wanda had disappeared, Bova fears that its already too late.

AND FINALLY after all that exposition and retcons (which don’t get me wrong, I loved. I don’t think its good storytelling, I think its a spaghetti nonsense, but its entertaining nonsense and that’s what matters to me) we finally get back to what Wanda is up to.

She was on the cover for pete’s sake!

Anyway, she’s jesusing over the altar and Darkhold, just as is suggested on the cover.

Modred, the Wi-Fi Wizard, reveals some choice deets about his own motivation and backstory.

Apparently he used to combat the Darkhold’s efforts to hold sway over the Earth but after battling Chthon in Marvel Chillers #2, Modred realized that the demon was an agent of destiny and dangit it was Modred’s destiny to help him achieve a new world order!

Modred, you suggestible fool, thinks Wanda, more or less.

Idiot or no, Modred’s magic is far stronger than Wanda’s barely trained efforts. She couldn’t even weaken his Bind Person spell with her level.

But she can cheat.

She uses her mutant probability altering powers to just sorta create a probability where the Hold Person spell just turns off.

To Modred’s irritation, she jumps off the floating Darkhold as she escapes the spell. Rude, Wanda.

Even though ‘the master’ has said she is not to be killed, nobody said anything about “the administration of discipline!” Which thankfully takes the form of magic bolts.

Wanda is able to hold him off with her own magic bolts but he’s still far stronger than her. That didn’t change just because I hit enter several times.

Even using her mutant power to create a sphere to repulse his bolts is for naught.

As her defenses fall, she begs Modred to stop.

Scarlet Witch: “A-all right! I believe you! J-just stop! Please -- stop!”

Modred: “Thou dost... yield? Verily, I be disappointed. I would have thought thou to be a more determined opponent.”

Scarlet Witch: “I am, Modred. I just realized that I can’t fight you on your level. But there are other levels. Like, for instance, what the mortals of this world call -- a roundhouse left!”

PAWNCH!

I gotta say. I love the trope of someone winning a magic duel by decking the other person in the face.

Unfortunately (for Wanda’s own peace of mind), she’s too good at punching. And punched Modred right off the damn mountain.

She laments having killed a person, even if millions of lives were saved by foiling the plans of Modred’s master.

And then Modred shoots her in the back. AGAIN.

He’s such a dick.

Modred rants at the unconscious witch that she was chosen at birth to be a vessel for his master’s second coming and the time of that rising is now.

Dammit Modred!

Later and also elsewhere, Quicksilver prepares to set back out.

He thanks Bova for the truth bombs and for fixing his costume. But now he must find Wanda before-

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

GIANT SKY FACE

Ahem. Wanda is now an angry sky face. Or perhaps the entity now piloting Wanda.

She says she should kill him but she still has some human compassion from the previous owner.

So instead Possessed!Wanda just fires some warning eye lighting at Quicksilver telling him to gtfo or die.

Quicksilver wants to or die but Bova convinces him to go get outside help instead. Reluctantly, Quicksilver bows down to this ‘bovine logic.’

And yes the comic actually calls it that. How does bovine logic differ from people logic? Well in this case, the cow is smarter than the Quicksilver. Less impetuous anyway.

So Quicksilver runs down the mountain which is a lot less painful than falling down it but unexpectedly runs into Django Maximoff, the possibly dementia suffering old man who is Quicksilver’s foster father and really more of a father than Magneto ever was.

Honestly, its been changed so much that I don’t actually care about the Maximoff’s parentage. I’ve enjoyed Dadneto material, like him showing up for the most awkward thanksgiving dinner ever in the Vision and Scarlet Witch miniseries (the very same one where she gets magic pregnant). Him confessing to Finesse in Avengers Academy that the murder robots he used to send to murder Quicksilver for training reasons were actually programmed to take it easy on him. There’s good Dadneto material. I do get annoyed that Django gets brushed aside.

He’s the one who actually raised the twins but he’s not considered their ‘real’ dad because he doesn’t share DNA with them except I think the most recent retcon made it that he was the biological father but my point still stands.

Dadneto is fine. But remember Django Maximoff who did the hard parenting work that Magneto didn’t.

And let’s also remember Uncle Owen, Aunt Beru, and Bail Organa. Who raised another set of important twins from a big, menacing villain.

But I digress.

Anyway, Django went looking for Quicksilver but decided to tarry in the forest. He’s always loved this forest. Its where he fled to when those villagers burned down his camp. He’s always felt safe here.

Cue the irony.

As the forest becomes animate almost, but not quite, entirely unlike Evil Dead, and captures Quicksilver and Django.

Quicksilver does the thing that speedsters do when bound. Vibrates super fast until the binding breaks.

He then runs around in a circle punching wood until Django is free, although the old man does complain that Quicksilver shouldn’t harm the wood. “It’s special! And it was so friendly before I... I don’t understand.”

Quicksilver ignores this and NYOOMS away with Django in his arms.

And then nature loses its shit. Or maybe Possessed!Wanda loses her shit on nature’s behalf.

There’s suddenly

STORMS. With LIGHTNING and a rain of fire and rocks and is Wundagore actually a volcano how does it just rain fire and rocks??

Oh there’s also earthquakes that open chasms that try to swallow up Quicksilver but he NYOOMS through all these dangers to arrive back at the village.

The post office has the only phone in town so Quicksilver pamb pambs on the door and asks to use it to make an emergency call to--

THE AVENGERS!

Remember, this is an Avengers book. Guest-starring the Avengers.

Broodmeister Vision is on monitor duty so he intercepts the call.

Elsewhere in the mansion, the Avengers are eating dinner and talking about Iron Man while he’s not there.

Demon in a Bottle is still concurrent and we’ve reached the part of the story where an armor malfunction caused Iron Man to accidentally manslaughter a foreign ambassador.

Needless to say, this caused a big stink and he’s currently under investigation until it can be proven that it was a malfunction.

While he’s gone, Captain America is acting chairman.

That’s why he gets to sit at the head of the table. Being chairman comes with perks.

Also, a sort of weird details is that if they have them, the Avengers take off their gloves to eat. I don’t know if that is weird. I don’t wear gloves constantly. But it looks weird. Without her gloves, Ms Marvel looks even more like she’s just wearing a swimsuit everywhere.

Anyway, Vision ghosts through the wall and tells them to belay that meal, there’s grave danger ahoof!

Vision: “Quicksilver just called, saying that Wanda has been possessed by some preternatural power -- causing her to wreak elemental destruction over an area of miles!”

Captain America orders everyone to doubletime to the Quinjet hanger but he gets countermanded.

By Agent Henry Peter Gyrich.

Who offers the reasons that 1) Quicksilver is not an active Avenger so they’re not obligated to give him the time of day, 2) there’s no proof that whatever is going on in Bulgaria is a threat to US security, and 3) come on guys, don’t just be flying where you like we don’t need another international incident like the one Iron Man caused. No, not killing the ambassador. ANOTHER international incident. The man is rolling in them.

Cap has had enough and stalks off to make a phone call.

And just one panel of Beast making implied threats towards Gyrich later, the agent receives a phone call.

He yells into the receiver that he’s not to be disturbed but WHOOPS just yelled at his boss.

Agent Henry Peter Gyrich: “That was the *ahem* Commander-in-Chief. He’s requested that the Avengers leave on a, uh, ‘good-will tour’ or Bulgaria. Right away. you can wipe that smirk off your face now, captain.”

It is quite an impressive smirk.

And wow. To think that Cap could just go over Gyrich’s head like that by calling Jimmy Carter.

I can only speculate that he didn’t do it until now because Gyrich was an asshole but had a point.

Anyway, Gyrich is still an asshole.

Out of spite or assholishness or spiteful assholishness, he demands that Vision stay at the mansion.

Because he is on the duty roster for monitor duty and per regulations someone must be on monitor duty at all times.

(I refuse to believe that this regulation is ever actually obeyed. The Avengers almost never leave someone at home)

Vision takes issue with this and offers to introduce Gyrich to punches but Cap stops him.

One punch and they could lose all those privileges that they’ve worked so hard off-panel to get back! And apparently Cap only has so many favors to call in with Jimmy Carter!

But he promises that the Avengers will find Wanda and take care of her.

Vision agrees but darkly promises that this matter will be settled.

And then he tries to take over the world. Well, not for years and under the influence of an alien supercomputer and probably not directly related to this. But I imagine that once he had taken over the government, he would have had Gyrich reassigned to Antarctica.

Meanwhile, six time zones away in Transia, Quicksilver worries that due to a bad connection the Avengers may not have understood his message.

And then he explodes.

Because Possessed!Wanda has found them.

Chthon!Wanda: “No, you old fool! For at least, I’ve purged this vessel of its last taint of humanity, it’s last wisp of soul! There is no Ana Maximoff! There is not Wanda Frank! Now, there is only... CHTHON!”

And Wanda has a new evil and thus sexy costume. Its actually kind of stylish.

Although one must wonder why a being like Chthon would even dress his host body up in an evil, sexy outfit. Maybe even demons are bound by the tropes of the genre.

Also, dammit Chthon! Bova just sewed up Quicksilver’s outfit and here you are blowing it to tatters again!

Have you no respect for the bovine logic of the cow-woman midwife!

You truly are heinous!

Next time: The call of the mountain THING!

Damn. That’s a great title.

Follow @essential-avengers. Its the dedicated sideblog for this series. Its... eventually going to be caught up.

#Avengers #Modred the Mystic #Wi Fi Wizard #Chthon #Scarlet Witch #Quicksilver #Bova the cow midwife #Django Maximoff #Captain America #the Vision #Henry Peter Gyrich #some other avengers were on panel but didn't do much #Essential Avengers #Essential marvel liveblogging #Bova serves some hot soup and some hotter retcons #Cap calls in a favor from Jimmy #even demons can't ignore tropes

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emjaybeeworld · 4 years

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ADELAIDE AND OTTO - Part 2 A Mostly True Medieval Love Story

Thus commenced a complex dance of advances and retreats. After his initial success or two, Otto had to work harder for each victory he gained. For every advantage he won, she’d hand him his hat the next time. If she found that a tactic failed once, she simply discarded it and called up a new, more inventive way to accomplish her ends. If only he knew what her ends were. Otto was amused at the ingenious array of skills at her command. She changed up her techniques like a chameleon changes colors. It was a tantalizing game of cat and mouse.

When Otto could take a break from his official obligations, he informally joined Adelaide and Conrad on their outings and picnics as their host. Adelaide’s reticence in the king’s presence slowly slipped away as he lured her into his and Conrad’s easy exchanges. She loved debating philosophy and governing strategies; but never did she say a word about herself.

Oddly, the queen was mostly absent. She seemed to spend a lot of time in her rooms. Her rare appearances were short, but congenial. When Adelaide proposed that she spend some time with the queen, the suggestion was casually turned aside with a vague excuse that she was busy with her private affairs.

Sometimes, the king’s musicians performed in the evenings. Other times, the swordsmen and knights would put on displays. There were nights that magicians and clowns provided the entertainment. Chess and whist were after dinner pastimes. Frequently, Adelaide and Conrad joined in the games and after dinner conversations. Otto split his attentions between his inner circle and Conrad and Adelaide, raising no suspicions in anyone’s minds about his interest in Adelaide. From time to time, Conrad would excuse himself to perform some official duty and the king would take it upon himself to see that she was entertained. Often, they spent quiet time playing chess or discussing politics.

Inexorably, the king chipped away at Adelaide’s reserve; he charmed her with thoughtfulness and regaled her with stories of his misdeeds as a young man. Adelaide was drawn deeper and deeper into the carefully camouflaged trap of a brilliant and patient mastermind. There were quiet whispers in the dark while watching plays and exhibitions, innocuous touches that lasted a second too long, eyes that held hers when no one else saw; and accidental collisions up against each other. Adelaide was constantly churned up on the inside. She felt an unspoken subtext whenever she was in the king’s presence; she couldn’t tell if the feeling was internally based or of external origin. She walked a dangerous line where Otto was concerned. Stuffing her emotions far down inside her was a constant battle. Better to stay away from the man than make a foolish error.

Adelaide realized that Lothaire, to whom she until recently looked forward to marrying, was untried, a blank sheet of paper whose story was yet to be written. On the other hand, Otto was a man of heroic proportion, forged in the smelter of war and refined in worldly experience. Magnetic, charismatic, he eclipsed everything in his path. He had yet to reach the zenith of his greatness, but his history dictated that his future would be epic. She was helplessly drawn in to his irresistible allure. His smile curled her toes. For the first time in her young life, she desperately wanted something she couldn’t have. She never lost sight that he was married and she was soon to be. It was her shield. Regret ate away at her.

So, she used every skill she had developed over time to stay away from the king. Her heart beat too erratically when he was near. Recently, she found that many of her ploys were ineffective and she didn’t know why. She only knew that she was ineffectual. Conrad was her anchor and her safety zone. Adelaide resorted to accompanying him in his few official duties to avoid being found alone.

In her third week at the palace, Conrad was unexpectedly sent off on a day trip to another of the king’s estates to handle some pressing business. Adelaide returned from the stables and was summoned to the king’s private offices. Her smile quickly transformed into surprise when the king rose, walked to her, taking her by the arms with purpose. A political disaster in Bavaria required his immediate departure and he wouldn’t return for weeks, probably months. His brother Henry, leading a great number of nobles, had revolted and planned to rule an independent Bavaria. Otto would be gone for the remainder of her stay in order to put an end to the rebellion.

Hypnotized by his intensity, Adelaide was incapable of looking away. Her heart lurched painfully. Gone. She wouldn’t see him again. Conditioned to his harmless touches, Adelaide stilled. Mistaking her pained silence for the poise he found so irritating, Otto reeled her into his arms. Still, she didn’t react. Her inner shock and turmoil were too great. He was leaving--saying goodbye. She didn’t know which was more distressing—his aggressive behavior or his unexpected departure.

Frustrated with her lack of response, Otto brushed her hair back, holding her face in his big hands. He lowered his lips to hers. Staggered, Adelaide remained motionless. Pain ripped through her, crippling in its intensity. Off balance by her otherworldly stillness, Otto cupped her face in his palms and forced her to look at him. He would not leave his wife because he loved the queen and he could not shame her. She was the love of his youth. But he was a grown man now; and he was helplessly drawn to Adelaide. He believed Adelaide felt the same way about him. They were well matched and he wanted an indefinite liaison with the Burgundian princess that would benefit them both.

Otto tried to persuade Adelaide to break off her betrothal. He would pay off Lothaire’s family handsomely. Burgundy wasn’t strong enough to do battle with him and he’d be able to soothe any ruffled feathers. He laid it all out, the benefits, the details, all that she could expect. He would iron out the obstacles and take care of the details with her parents. Otto made a fine presentation as far as a legal brief was concerned.

Adelaide’s heart twisted, her sensibilities taking over. She pushed out of Otto’s hold. She reminded him that he was married and that she, likewise, was soon to be married. She couldn’t and wouldn’t dishonor or humiliate her affianced; nor would she ever enter into a scandalous relationship. She would not shame her family or dishonor his wife. She backed away. Otto followed, crowding her up against the wall.

The German king was desperate. He was trapped in a mire of his own making. The ambush he’d set for Adelaide, he’d fallen into. He’d unexpectedly run out of time and he was losing ground with every second. Adelaide’s sense of duty was formidable; he had to find a way to rock her world as his had been.

If she wouldn’t agree to a liaison, then, he asked Adelaide to wait for him. Adelaide could only reply that she was honor bound to keep her parents’ bargain.

He asked Adelaide if she would at least allow him the opportunity to try to change her mind. Would she voluntarily kiss him as a lover might? If she could walk away from it, he would let her go. It could do no harm, he said.

Adelaide consented. She wanted this one moment to cherish for the rest of her life. Otto pulled her arms up around his neck and drew her into his body. In the space of a heartbeat as his lips took hers, Adelaide realized his lie. It wasn’t harmless; it was lethal. Pandora’s box was open; its contents spilled out. She was lost, captivated by the feel of him. Returning his kiss blindly, she pressed her body into his. Her fingers tangled in his silken hair, imprisoning him in the kiss even as he held her prisoner. He scorched her with his desire. Adelaide found the strength to break the kiss. Trapped in his arms as she was, they searched each other’s eyes for something the other could not give.

Otto dropped his forehead against hers. He told her that if young Lothaire could make her blood boil the way Otto did, she should never look back. But if Lothaire couldn’t, Otto would be waiting for her. He released her and walked out of the room without looking back. Adelaide was destroyed. Her composure shattered for the first time in her life.

She kept these things a secret from Conrad. Outside the confines of her heart, she couldn’t give voice to what had happened with the King. To do so would be betrayal. When Conrad questioned his sister about her sadness, she simply told him that she dreaded leaving him so soon.

Six months later, Adelaide dutifully married Lothaire and learned that her blood, indeed, did not boil for the young man. They were, however, well matched. They became good friends and Adelaide was a loyal and loving companion to her husband. By the end of her first year of marriage, she had given birth to her first child. She had everything a woman could want. She was fabulously wealthy. She was the queen of Italy. Her husband was a handsome young king who loved her. She was adored by her subjects.

Then a letter came from her brother. Otto’s queen had died. Otto was free to marry. It wasn’t until after Eadgyth’s death that Otto explained the queen had been failing for years. Suddenly, his request of Adelaide to wait took on new meaning. Everything that she had blocked away over the years came roaring back. Pain crippled her at the realization of what could have been but would never be.

Ever compassionate, Adelaide composed a message to Otto relaying her condolences for his loss. She received no response.

Two more years passed. Lothaire had a quick, bright mind and showed great promise of becoming an outstanding king. He, too, was fair and just. In a short time, he had consolidated a number of Italian duchies into one rule. His had a vision and was executing it brilliantly. He was in close alliance with his rival King Berengarius of Ivrea. Adelaide didn’t like or trust Berengarius. Her skin wanted to crawl off her body when he was around. He treated his subjects unfairly, overly taxed them, and abused them. Berenger and his queen Willa and their son Adalbert seemed to have no moral compass, unless it was an immoral one.

One day, succumbing to their avarice for Italy and wanting the young queen to marry his son, Berengarius fatally poisoned King Lothaire. Berengarius and Willa declared themselves the new regents of Italy.

At the tender age of 19, Adelaide was a widow. Marriage offers poured in within weeks, but none came from King Otto, who was, by this time, the most important and powerful king in Europe. Shockingly, she received requests for her hand from two unwelcome sources--Liuthold and Otto’s brother Henry. Adelaide was crushed. They wouldn’t have made marriage proposals unless Otto approved. A dalliance was all Otto had wanted. He’d never been serious about her, while she . . . she had treasured a forbidden love tightly locked inside her breast believing that he was a shining god. She had been unfaithful to Lothaire in her heart and now she was stricken with remorse.

#A medieval love story

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