#It could come back to bite me in the arse and probably will | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

teashellscape · 23 days

Text

Harvey x reader (Minors dni)

Paring: sdv Harvey x reader

Synopsis: Harvey’s had a rough day at work and has been stuck doing gruelling paperwork all day. You wanna help him relieve some stress. Some plot, mainly just smut!

Warnings: 18+ smut (minors dni), reader described as having a vagina, oral sex (reader and Harvey receiving), vaginal sex, surprise squirting.

Word count: 1,592k

Rays of light spill through the white blinds of Harvey’s small office; he’s sat behind his desk, head basically buried in his laptop with piles of paperwork surrounding him, his hair is messy and disheveled and he has a frustrated look on his face. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you glance at him. “Hey, you been doing paperwork all day?” You chirp. He looks up from his screen with a huff and smiles slightly seeing your small figure standing in the doorway.

“I didn’t hear you come in.” He rolls back slightly from his desk, his tie is pulled down slightly and some of his buttons undone. You blush at the sight of him like that, it’s rare that work frustrates or bores your boyfriend so you know you’re in for a ride later on.

“Why don’t you come and take a break, sit with me.” You say clicking the door shut and sitting on the small loveseat next to you, patting for him to sit.

“I’m sorry honey but I can’t. I still have so much paperwork to do it’s looking like I’m going to be here all night.” He gives you a sad look, eyes flicking between you and the piles of paperwork laid out on his desk. “No, it won’t hurt you or your work, come on, you’ve probably been sat there all day staring at that screen. You need a break, you’re gonna strain your eyes and get a migraine.” Harvey looks over at you with an all knowing smile.

He chuckles, “never thought you’d be giving me of all people medical advice.” Smiling he stands up, walks over and flops down on the sofa next to you. He closes his eyes with a smile on his face, you turn to him sitting curled up and began playing with his hair. “Mm that’s nice.” He mumbles smiling.

“Do you know what could be nicer?” You say through a smile, blushing slightly. He opens his eyes and looks to the side at you as if to say ‘what?’. You crawl over to him straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck bringing your face so close to him you’re almost nose to nose. With no words said Harvey’s lips crash into yours, his hands sit on your hips every now and then snaking down to give your arse a tight squeeze. Your hand begin playing with the curly strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger and moves your head to the side kissing down your cheek and travelling to your neck, sucking lightly and nipping in spots, not leaving a mark behind unfortunately. You mewl and moan softly, breathing heavy as you begin to unknot his tie and slowly start unbuttoning his shirt. He moves back up to kiss your lips lightly biting at the bottom one, you let out another moan.

Slowly you begin to move down his body kissing down his chest towards his bellybutton. You begin to unbuckle his belt excruciatingly slow, palming his growing erection and continuing to leave small pecks along his abdomen. Harvey begins to get slightly frustrated with how long you’re taking and starts grabbing at your hair trying to encourage you to speed up. You smirk at his eagerness, pull off his belt and unzip his trousers. He moves you away so that he can pull both his trousers and boxers down letting his erection spring free and slap against his stomach. A wide smile grows on your face as you grasp it in your hand and spit on the tip, you begin pumping it and look up into Harvey’s eyes, his face flushing and quiets mewls escaping his parted lips, he looks absolutely gorgeous. Once you’d had enough pumping it you slip his pink tip between your lips and lick along his shaft watching his head fall back in bliss; his mewls quickly becoming moans. You bob your head back and forth pumping whatever you couldn’t fit in, Harvey’s hand bunched in your hair lightly guiding you along.

Eventually Harvey had had enough and pulled you off of him dragging you to your feet, he roughly pulled your shirt over your head and quickly discarded your bra. He puts his hands under your arse and you jump up wrapping your legs around his waist, you both start another steamy make out session, this time his lips travel down and he begins to make sure he’s leaving marks along your collarbone. Harvey walks over to his desk and begins to clear it, literally just pushing all the paperwork onto the floor, he shuts his laptop lid and chucks it onto the sofa behind you both. He sits you down on his desk pulling away from the kiss, you both heaving with a string of saliva still connecting you and puffy swollen lips. “Lay back.” He commands, all you can do is nod blushing furiously.

Harvey begins leaving kisses and nibbles along your soft stomach making his way to your trousers and unbuttoning them, pulling them down and discarding them. His eyes laid heavy on your soaked panties, he puts his long fingers to them slowly moving up and down. You let out a long whine as he moves to your face kissing you roughly on the lips, “so wet for me, you’ve been waiting all day for this haven’t you?” He smirks and you nod humming in response. His free hand again moves down to grasp your arse, him being this dominant is shocking to you but it just turns you on so much more. He begins once again trailing kisses down your stomach while pulling your sopping panties down your legs. He starts toying with your clit before very easily slipping a finger in making you let out a fairly loud moan. His lips travel down to your little bundle of nerves and he begins sucking while pumping and curling his fingers inside of you, you can’t help but whine and crumble under his touch.

When you first started dating you never expected him to be this good in bed but him being a doctor he probably had a slut phase in college and fuck had it paid off in your favour. Harvey begins switching between sucking and swirling his tongue around your clit making you feel practically numb with pleasure, you could already feel your release building. “Mmm look at you getting tighter already, you gonna cum for me already honey?” He practically whispers, his warm breath enveloping you making you shiver. “Come on, come for me lovely.” He kisses and toys more with your clit, curling his fingers inside of you more aggressively making you writhe. That all too familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, the next thing you know you’re at your release, your legs shaking violently; you moan loudly, practically seeing stars under his touch, feeling yourself let go completely.

Harvey begins chuckling slightly, still pumping his fingers in and out softly. “Now I didn’t know you could do that.” The next thing you realise is you’ve squirted all over him, feeling embarrassed you cover your face with your hands and you feel his fingers exit you leaving you feel cold and empty making you whine. He gently pulls your hands away from your face and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his lips and smell yourself on his mustache. “Let’s see if we can get you to do that again huh?” He says moving back and putting your legs over his shoulder carefully lining his dick up with you. He reaches over to his draws and pulls a condom out, quickly unwrapping it and slipping it onto his length. He rubs himself on you using your slick as lube and then quickly slips himself inside, you both moan out in bliss. “Soft or rough?” He asks leaving you slightly confused.

“Surprise me.” You say smiling. He smiles and begins pumping in and out you both moaning in bliss. He changes paces on and off between fast and hard and soft and intimate and it practically makes the room spin for you. “Oh fuck Harvey, keep going.” You moan to him. Your legs being over his shoulders means he’s hitting your sweet spot over and over and over again sending you wild. You’re both absolute moaning sweaty messes and Harvey moves his hands from your legs to toy with your breasts, playing with your nipples, straight away almost sending you over the edge again.

Harvey’s thrusts begin to get sloppy. “Keep going, faster.” You slur out and without even a second thought the man begins absolutely railing you and starts toying with your clit again. That knot begins to once again form in your stomach and it doesn’t last long until you let go, coming on his cock and once again squirting all over him. Harvey keeps thrusting and finally cums, you feel the warmth filling the condom. He pulls out, ties and disposes of the condom and picks you up bringing you back over to the sofa laying you down gently and moving his laptop to the floor. He grabs his bottle of water and a cloth and cleans you both up, he lays behind you and snuggles closely your naked bodies entwining one another.

“I love you (y/n).” He says,

“I love you too.”

————————————————————————

I’m taking requests for fics so if you wanna leave any this is the post to go to!

#Spotify #sdv fanfic #stardew valley #sdv harvey #sdv x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley x reader #sdv harvey x reader #sdv harvey x farmer #sdv x y/n #sdv Harvey x y/n #sdv smut #stardew valley smut #smut #sdv Harvey smut #Stardew valley Harvey #Stardew valley Harvey smut #sdv

366 notes · View notes

yunietunie · 7 months

Text

Coming Home. [nsfw]

Months without Johnny while he was in deployment led to lonely nights, lonely thoughts, and even more lonely needs. Caught in a rut when he returns home and decides he needs to have some "dessert".

F!Reader, smut, MDNI, established relationship, boyfriend!Soap, pnv, unprotected!sex

Months. It had been months since you last saw him. Off to some bloody deployment where he risks his life all for the sake of his job. You had to be no-contact to ensure Johnny’s safety, and perhaps even yours. Sure it irritated you because the distance made you fear he’d never love you again when he came back, but what could you do?

Finding yourself in your lonely house, it was quiet. The same routine for the repeating months. Wake up, eat, work, come home, eat again, sleep. It was boring, but it’s all you could do while you slept in your empty bed. Sometimes muttering to yourself about something that irritated you.

Thoughts constantly run through your mind rent free, churning your stomach, preparing for the worst. But then the thoughts soon turned into something else. Instead of churning, a low pressure built in your lower stomach as you sat on the vacant couch by yourself. He should be back soon right? You didn’t know how much longer you could just deal with your slim fingers instead of him.

You needed him. To fill your needy cunt. To tear you in half. His scent. His accent. His rough hair and stubble. Anything regarding him. You didn’t know how much longer you could do without it. As you kept thinking, your hand began to glide under your pants. The heat off your pussy was radiating. You were practically pulsating in how bad you needed it.

“Dinner first.” You remind yourself before taking your hand away and out of your pants. Walking towards the kitchen, you turned on some music to listen to as you made dinner for yourself. Slightly humming to yourself, taking out a pot and filling it with hot water then putting some food to boil into it. Probably some soup would taste great right now.

Your hips swaying as you began cooking, the smell of the soup filling your nose, made your mouth water. That was until you felt a large pair of hands on your waist. It made you jolt and immediately whip over to who the intruder was. It was Johnny. You were too focused on making soup that you didn't even hear him come in. He had a small smile on his face as he embraced you tightly in a loving way.

“I missed you so, so much.” Johnny said, his nose falling to the nape of your neck, tickling the flesh from his breath. His grip on your body tightening. Attempting to ignore the knot in your stomach, you hug him equally as hard, pulling slightly apart to place a small peck on his lips. A smile tugs to his lips.

“Whatcha’ makin’?” The scotsman asked you, peeking over your shoulder at the steaming pot.

“It's just some soup.” You replied with a small giggle.

“Would you like some?” You asked while looking up at him, his hands resting on your hips were driving you up a fucking wall. It was so good to see him, it really was. But man. The thoughts would not goddamn stop.

“Of course, bonnie.” Johnny said with a grin as he sat down at the bar stool across from where you were cooking. After a few minutes you pour both of yourselves a hot bowl of soup, serving it to him first.

“So…. How was your deployment?” You asked quietly before sipping on your meal. A grunt escaped his throat as he put down his spoon, a small sigh after.

“Well, I am scurnned. Ol’ man wouldn’t get off my arse about anything.” Johnny would complain before divining back into the soup bowl once more. It made you wonder. You wish that bowl was you at that moment. Clenching your thighs together under the table, you try to simmer yourself down.

“Did you–at least get what you were supposed to get?” You asked, attempting to push the image out of your mind before you too went in for another bite.

“Aye. We did, me and Ghost.” He replied with a small smirk.

“Not to brag, but yer boyfriend is a wee bit braver than others, bonnie.” His accent rolled off his tongue with a stoic and cocky expression before he finished devouring his bowl. He sits patiently waiting for you to finish yours as well. Johnny’s eyes were wandering you and you knew it too. That surely didn’t help how you were feeling and the pressure began to throb sensely. You shook it off, the man JUST got home, you thought you had to give sometime before indulging.

After finishing your own bowl, you get up, the wooden chair scraping against the tile flooring. Taking both of your bowls, you walk over to the sink and place them in there, rinsing them off. You couldn’t help but feel his eyes bore into your back as you washed the dishes. Then you were on your way to walk out of the kitchen.

“Where are you going?” Johnny’s voice asked you from behind. You swivel your body to his tone.

“Oh, uh well I was just gonna sit in the living room.” You replied with a raised eyebrow.

“I haven’t had any dessert yet?” Johnny asked in a kind of curious tone, after getting up from the chair, he was now walking towards you.

“I think we have some chocolates in the pantry if–” Cut off by a pair of warm lips against yours. A hand on your waist as he began to deepen the kiss, which only made you whine in his mouth and your eyes widen.

Leading you by your waist back to the kitchen counter top where he then lifted you onto to sit upon, not letting his lips tear apart from yours. He placed a free hand in your hair then parted away from your supple lips.

“Johnny?” You asked in question as to what he was doing, the knot returning to you. Your heart was racing a little bit more now as you looked to his eye level now. He seems to examine the kitchen counter top before returning his gaze back to yours with a smirk.

“I’ve spent months with outcha’, bonnie. I want yer lips on mine. I want to taste you in more ways than just yer tongue.” Johnny admitted as a hand slipped under your loose t-shirt, reaching just under your tit. An index finger just barely grazing the top of your already stiffened nipple, which instantly made your body pop with goose bumps.

The dampness between your already messy pussy was hiding in your soaked panties. He leaned you back onto the cold laminate of the kitchen counter top, looking down at you with satisfaction.

“Can I have my dessert now?” He pleaded while he looked at your face. It already grew hot the moment he placed his lips on yours, but now, you swear your face could be used as a hot iron. You nod in response, giving him simple permission. That was enough for both of his hands to slide your sweats down, then throw them on the floor.

His eyes were met with a scene. It made him rock hard instantly seeing the wet spot between your thighs and in your panties with him barely doing anything. Slithering one of his fingers at the hem of them, pushing them off smoothly, disregarding them on the floor. Johnny licked his rough fingers until there was a sleek shine on them before sliding them in with ease. It had been so long since you had some type of girth within you, forcing a yelp from your throat.

“Better than yours, bonnie?” He would ask in a rusky tone before leaning down and placing his lips around your pulsating clit. While pumping you full with just two fingers, he sucked and nibbled on your desperate clit. It was like you were ready to cum right on the spot. You look down at him who was enjoying the pretty sounds you made while he ate and fingered you. Without a warning, he put another finger in. 3 in total.

Your moans turned into whines and whimpers while you writhed on top of the counter top under him. He made sure to make a mental note of your sweet spots and your singing voice. He always loved how loud you’d get with him, he loved knowing that only he could make you sound like this.

“Please– Just, right there, right there,” You begged as he finally hit your spot. It almost felt like you were going to die by overstimulation even though it wasn’t his dick just yet. He continued moving at his own pace, making sure to give your clit attention as well as your hands tugged and pulled at his mohawk.

It had only just started and you already came around his fingers and tongue embarrassingly quick. Having a few heavy and fast breaths leave your chest, he lifted his head and looked at you between your thighs.

“You taste so good. I fucking missed my girl.” Johnny would purr, his hot breath against your pussy, licking his chaps like some wolf in heat. He wasn’t done, not even close.

“Let me have you.” He said more than asked for your permission. You give another small nod in response. Then your world flipped upside down when he turned you onto your stomach, your legs dangling off the counter top. How he missed the sight of your perfect ass in front of him.

He’d slap you hard once, watching your ass move to his touch, making him groan at the sight. It made you jolt to say the least.

“Such a pretty ass.” He’d whisper before placing both his hands on top of your butt, rubbing the skin slightly, just feeling you. Before you knew it, you could feel his twitching cock against your hot pussy. He’d rub against your slit, to prepare you before splitting you open. His tip would pop in soon after, making your body jerk at the feeling. It had been so long since you were dicked down.

He placed a hand on your hip for grip. A free hand grabbing a handful of your hair, making your back arch. Johnny stayed still with his tip resting into you, making sure you’d get adjusted to his cock once more since it had been a while.

Not for long though. Sliding inch by inch, he was finally balls deep. His tip was buried into your pussy, pushing into your cervix which earned you a grunt from him. How he loved stuffing his cock so deep into you, making your walls a mold for him and him only. He would pull your head back by the roots of your hair, so he could reach even deeper into you.

“Jesus–” Johnny would mutter as he almost felt his own eyes betray him by fluttering slightly, engulfed by your warmth around his sensitive cock. That’s when his breathing started to get heavier, more shallow, more ragged. His thrusts began soft and gentle, making sure to hear your singing voice again.

Your eyes widened at the feeling of you being stretched apart again, now by his cock. You loved being his pretty cock-hungry girl. He started with deep thrusts, pulling almost all the way out and sliding back in slowly, just savoring the moment. You whined and whimpered. You were almost ashamed by how close you were close to cumming again.

“Im goin’ to fuck the shit out of my girl.” He said, pulling your hair again to bring your ear closer to his lips to make sure you heard him. You’d mewl as he continued to move at a steady pace, making sure to observe your shivering and trembling body underneath him.

Soft grumbles and groans escaped him as he fucked you nice and slow, plunging his cock so deep inside you, you weren’t sure if it’d come out. That’s when it happened, no warning, no words, no nothing before his hips began to slam into you. His hand moved from your hair to your throat just under your chin, his thumb resting on the inside of your mouth.

You’d wail and writhe under him as he pounded into you, bruising your cervix with his tip. His grip on your hip tightening, making sure to leave his hand print on you as a mark. Your slick pussy gives him access to sink into you. Your walls gripped onto his twitching cock.

“Yer such a good girl for me. Can you tell how much I missed you?” Johnny’s hot breath meeting with your ears as he whispered to you.

“Taking me so well, naughty girl.” He’d whisper as he fucked you stupid on your kitchen counter top. Liquid would seep down between your thighs and dribble down to your ankles. Your legs quivered as you felt him destroying you from the inside. Your eyes began to threaten to throw tears out of them, even as your eyes began to roll to the back of your head. Your tits bouncing up and down with each one of his thrusts.

You were melting under him and he made sure to make you hear how good you made him feel. Nibbling your ear, grunting into it somewhat loudly, some were more airy. He was definitely in a rut, especially from not fucking your tight cunt for so, so long. This was his first thought when he saw you cooking in the kitchen.

“Let me make you cum, bonnie.” He pleaded as his movements amped up more, faster and deeper within you. You didn't think it was possible, but here he was, pounding you so hard you were sure you’d have to call off of work for tomorrow. His thrusts were vigorous, making some of the plates and silverware on the countertop rattle under it. Your moans were becoming louder with each one as you were coming close to finishing.

Your walls clenched down on him harder as you came all around him, some ending up running down your thighs. He’d let you ride out your orgasm as he whispered sweet nothings to you.

“I'm going to breed you, naughty girl. Let me fill you.” He said with a gravely and hoarse voice as he was getting closer to painting your walls white. Your cervix was pierced from his dick, it was burning you from the inside. But what's fun without some pain? With one quick movement, he wrapped his toned arms around your ribcage, just under your tits. Then he gave a last forcible thrust and ended up cumming into you, filling you with his hot seed.

He’d stay with his cock buried deep inside you, making sure to get every last drop out before letting go of your ribcage with his arms. Some of his cum would leak down your thighs when it began escaping out, even with him inside. Johnny would slide himself out after a bit and you laid yourself on the countertop, panting.

He’d move over and lean over you, giving you soft reassuring kisses on your lips. Your body shivered and twitched even after his cum would spill out of you some more. You were a complete mess.

“I missed my girl so much.”

677 notes · View notes

mimsynims · 6 months

Text

Fool For Love

part 7

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

~~~

Author’s Note: I wish I could say that this part wrap things up, but I need at least one (probably two) more before these two get their shit together.

More act 2 spoilers this time!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.

And you’re not handling it very well.

~~~

You’re at the edge of the camp when a hand curls around your arm, forcing you to stop and turn around.

Astarion.

And he looks angry.

“Were you spying on me?”

Thrown by the accusation, you grapple for words. “What? I– Of course not, why would I–”

“Just because Karlach chose Dammon over you, you don’t get to spoil my fun.”

The strange remark about Karlach is quickly overshadowed by his downright ludicrous allegation. “What the hell are you talking about?!”

Astarion carries on as if he didn’t hear you. “You were the one to break things off with me, not the other way around, so you don’t have any say in what or who I do.”

The audacity. “And I wasn’t trying to!”

“Sure, darling, sure.” Sarcasm drips off his words. “That’s why you followed me to the inn.”

“I–” You break off, because, in a way, he’s not wrong. “My intention was to have a drink.”

“If that was true, you wouldn’t have run off when I caught you watching me. Watching us.”

“Astarion, I don’t give a rat’s arse who you sleep with.” The lie slips off your tongue before you can stop it — the alternative is telling him the truth, and right now, that’s not an option. You feel too vulnerable, and honestly, you doubt he’d believe you at this point. “I only left to not make it awkward.”

“Really?” His smile feels vicious, mocking. “Perhaps I should go back to the inn, then.”

The urge to ask him not to is so strong you remain silent until you have yourself under control. “You do that,” you finally press out, “as I said, I don’t care what you do.”

Astarion takes a step closer, searching your face. Your heart is pounding as he scrutinises you; it’s as if he’s determining the validity of your claim. Will he see right through you? A part of you hopes that he will, and as the seconds go by, your determination wavers. Should you risk it?

“Astarion…”

“Fine.” His face hardens. “Have it your way. I’ll see you tomorrow, oh fearless leader.”

With a slight bow, one that feels tinged with scorn rather than respect, he turns around and leaves the same way he came. Towards the inn.

Towards…

“You’re such an idiot, Tav.” You drag a hand across your face. This is the second time he walks away from you, and it hurts just as much as the first time it happened. “Such a fucking idiot.”

If you were tired before, you’re exhausted now.

Perhaps it’s time you take a hint and focus on more important things, like getting these goddamn tadpoles out of your heads.

And maybe by then, things will have worked themselves out. Somehow.

It’s a good thing you’re not expected to be up early the next morning because when dawn comes around, you’ve barely slept at all. Too many thoughts, too many feelings.

You can hear some of the others stir, but you ignore it. And perhaps the comforting background noise of your friends talking and preparing breakfast is exactly what you need to finally relax, because the next thing you know, you fall asleep.

When you wake up, the only ones left in camp are Gale and Shadowheart. And Withers, of course.

“Oooh, look who’s finally awake! Late night for you as well, huh?”

Gale is far too cheery for your taste, but you bite back the snarky comeback because it’s not his fault you feel like shit.

“No, just…”

Shadowheart offers you a sympathetic smile. “Nightmares?”

It’s a convenient lie, so you simply nod, because the truth is far too complicated.

“Where are the rest?” You don’t really want to know, but it’s something you should be asking. So you do.

“Around, somewhere. Haven’t seen Astarion or Karlach, though.”

“Ah. I think I know why.”

So he stayed the night somewhere else, too.

Once you’ve eaten something, you and the rest go back to the inn. Finding Karlach sitting with Dammon is no surprise, but Astarion is nowhere to be found.

No matter, you tell yourself. There are more important things to worry about.

There are a lot of familiar faces to talk to, keeping you busy. So busy you don’t even notice when Astarion joins the rest of you — suddenly he’s just there, in the back. A quick glance lets you know that he looks about as worn-out as you feel, and you can’t help but wonder if he stayed up all night with that person you saw.

Inhaling a deep breath, you tell yourself to focus on the matter at hand, which is listening to Alfira. It seems it’s time for another rescue mission because of course it is. You’re tired and the increasing burden tests your already frayed patience, but Alfira isn’t the one to blame, so you rein yourself in.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, a small voice tells you to take a break, but you ignore it.

You visit Isobel last — and it’s lucky that you do. The attack comes from out of nowhere, catching you all off guard. You don’t want to think what would have happened if Isobel was alone.

It’s a tough battle — made even more difficult by the fact that you’re not on top of your game. You’re struggling, and it’s no one’s fault but your own.

You’re fortunate that you and your friends work like a well-oiled machine by now — because you will all be doomed if you fail. It warms your heart to realise that even in the midst of your falling out with Astarion, he doesn’t hesitate to fight back-to-back with you when it comes down to it.

In the end, your side comes out winning, but not without losses. You yourself have several cuts and bruises that will need tending to, but you ignore them in favour of checking on everyone yourself. You may not be the leader of people currently residing at the inn, but your neglect makes you feel responsible either way.

“Tav.”

“What is it, Astarion?”

“Stop it with this good samaritan nonsense and go see a healer, would you? You’re leaving a trail of blood all over this place, and I think they have enough problems as it is without having to clean up after you.”

His usual snark is both annoying and comforting. “Maybe once I’m done.”

“You are done. Now, Tav.”

You have intentionally been refusing to look at him until now, but his tone has you shifting your head to glare at him. It seems someone has patched him up already, as you can see bandages on his lower arm and hand. “Astarion, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“I will most definitely tell you what to do when you’re being a stubborn idiot. These people already have a leader.”

You know he’s right, but guilt is eating you up and this is the only way to placate the monster of shame inside you. “That doesn’t matter–”

“Tav.” Halsin and Karlach join Astarion’s side, both giving you a worried look. “That’s enough.”

“Right. Fine.” You may have won the fight, but you feel like a failure, knowing how many lives were lost tonight. “I’ll go and find Shadowheart.”

You have no idea what she sees on your face, but it’s enough to have her hold back any remarks and tend to your many wounds in silence. As you’re coming down from the adrenaline rush, you start to feel weary and disappointed with yourself.

“You should eat something. Rest.”

“Later.” You know she’s right, but you’re too restless still to heed her advice. “I need to, I don’t know.” Rising, you make a vague motion with your hand. “Walk things off first.” What you really need is to fall into someone’s arms and cry, but that’s not on the table.

“At least bring an apple or something,” she concedes. “And make sure to return before nightfall, or I’ll send Astarion after you.”

You open your mouth to object but close it again. That’s the perfect threat right now and you hate that she knows it. “Fine.”

“We just want you to be careful, Tav. We all need each other, you know.”

You sigh. “I know. I promise I won’t be gone long.”

“Good. And for what it’s worth, it wasn’t your fault.”

Wasn’t it, though? You catch Astarion watching you as you leave. He better not follow you.

For everyone’s sake, you need to be alone. Now, and until this whole tadpole situation has been dealt with.

No more distractions.

~~~

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion x tav #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 spoilers #fic wip

316 notes · View notes

bisexualhomelander · 3 months

Text

F O R C E D F E M I N I S A T I O N | B U T C H L A N D E R

Billy runs his mouth.

Part of Billy should have known the joke would come back to bite him in the arse sooner than later. He shouldn't have invited the supe in at all, but definitely not with the offer of watching him have a wank. Homelander felt he had a foot in the door now, and if Billy had put that kind of depravity past him, he's probably dumber than he thought he was.

The sonic boom woke him up, and as much as he simply wanted to close the blinds on Homelander, curiosity did get the better of him eventually, and he opened the balcony door.

Before he had even asked to what he owed the pleasure of the late-night company, the supe had already pressed a few banknotes into his hand, and Billy instinctively tightened his fingers around them despite his bewilderment. "You said ten dollars to watch you jack off. What do I get for a hundred?"

Billy huffed in amusement, even if there was a bit of sound behind the huff. Shock that he couldn't quite conceal. Was he being propositioned?

Homelander had a smirk on his lips. "I'm serious. William. I can feel your blood pressure, you know? That includes knowing where your blood is, right now. Had I stayed last time, who knows how we'd have ended up."

Billy swallowed all the other choice words he had for the man and stared down at the money in his grip. "If you think you can buy me, cunt, think again."

"If it hurts your pride, fine." The supe plucked the dollars back out of Billy's fingers and threw them into the air. Billy watched them sail over the balcony and out of sight. That would make some lucky bastard's night. Not his problem. He didn't have to pay that out of his pocket.

Alright, supe wanted to play. He could have that, surely. Billy could almost feel the moment his brain turned itself off. He'd feel the consequences of his actions some later date; for now, he didn't want Homelander to think he won by flustering him. Sure, he was half-hard. Why not go all the way and hate himself for it once he was alone again? So he put on his most charming, shit-eating smile and replied: "Shitty pickup line there, luv."

Homelander's face was wiped blank for a moment before he could reign in his emotions at the sudden pet name. Point for Billy.

"See? That's how it's done. Now come in. Freezin' my bollocks off here, and I'm of no use to you if that happens, hm?"

Homelander had his bearings again and gave him an amiable smile, hiding his teeth. Why did the cunt always seem like he had something with an unpleasant taste in his mouth? Was that jaw ever slack?

"Not really that into cocks, if I'm honest."

Homelander chuckled. "And? Neither am I. Will that stop you?"

"Nah, it won't. But we're gonna do it my way."

"Fine by me." Homelander came inside and closed the door with his gloved hand. He even cleaned his boots on the door mat. "Bedroom's this way, I assume," he said and began to saunter off in the correct direction. Fucker had clearly x-rayed the apartment before, and Billy prayed it had been when he'd been here last and not right before he'd swept in to watch Billy sleep.

"We ain't goin' to the bedroom here, luv." It was likely impossible to actually surprise the supe. Last time, Billy had not even seen him fly off. Homelander moved at the speed of light, and so he must have seen the assault coming from a mile away, but it spoke to how much he wanted this that he let it happen anyway. Billy had him up against the wall in one smooth movement, and Homelander's legs were riding high on his waist like it was natural. "My way, remember?" Billy smeared the words against the supe's lips like spit and greedily drank down the answering whimper. "And if I say cock isn't what I'm looking for tonight, that's what goes, a'right?"

"You can fuck me if you want to," Homelander panted. He was lighter than Billy had imagined. Holding him up cost little energy, and Billy wasn't even properly awake. For a split-second, he wondered if he was still dreaming.

"Not into cocks, my arse. You're downright begging."

"I'm not begging for anything." The hand around Billy's throat had crept up so suddenly that it did shock him into silence for a second. "I won't beg on my knees for the right to see my son, and I will certainly not beg you to fuck me. I chose you for tonight because you are a disgustingly filthy excuse for a man who has no dignity left for his sorry life, and I knew I could get you if I wanted you. And here you are. So if you want me to leave your body intact, you better get your ass in gear and get me off."

With every ounce of willpower, Billy forced a swallow against the fingers pressing down. The grip loosened. They still held eye contact, and neither of them blinked first. Homelander was giving him a way to get his piece in. Well. Why not.

"You babble on like a woman, you know?"

"Hm?"

"Goin' on and on about things I don't wanna know. Gnawing my ear off here, mate." He leaned forward a bit, happy to see the supe's eyes dart to the left and right in an attempt to focus on both of his eyes. It made Homelander break the unblinking eye contact, lids fluttering rapidly. "Like a girl."

They were pressed together from the tips of their noses, to their chests, to their bellies, so it was easy to actually feel the way the cunt's cock throbbed at Billy's verbal abuse. "Yeah, that's right, hm? You wanna be my girl for the night? Daddy's girl?"

Up close like this, he saw the laser lights spring forth from Homelander's pupils first, slowly filling out the rest of his eyes. It looked fascinating from this perspective, even as the intense light immediately burned bright white spots into Billy's retina that he had to blink away. To anyone, it might have been threatening, but Billy was too worked up now, and he called the supe's bluff easily. "Bitching like you're PMSing, luv." He leaned his face into the heat emanating from Homelander's eyes to force his mouth open in a kiss. "Just from a bit of talking."

"Shut up-" The hand that landed over his mouth could have broken his jaw or taken it clean off, but Homelander knew how much pressure to use. Billy didn't think about how the supe had learned this. Or tried hard not to.

It wasn't difficult to pry the hand away and let the supe see his sly grin. "Gettin' shy already? Why you wanna shut me up so hard?"

"Nothing of value comes out of that mouth of yours," Homelander said.

"Oh, come now." Billy made certain to school his face into a disappointed frown. "You gonna lie to me? I can see you getting wet in that suit of yours."

It wasn’t wrong, exactly. There was a distinct dark spot where the head of Homelander's cock pressed into the fabric. Billy decided, however, that he liked the ambiguity of this game of his and wanted to see how much he could push the supe.

"Must be like a slip 'n slide between those legs."

"Don't-" Homelander began, but his body took over halfway into speaking, had him rub up against Billy like the mere mention of his arousal had reminded him of it. "Don't you ever shut up?"

Billy leaned forward to bite Homelander's ear. "You love it."

"I don't." Those baby-blue eyes tried to find Billy, and find him they did. Up close like this, he looked pretty. Innocent, somehow. The line of his mouth was still angry, but somewhere in the depths of those eyes lay something that wanted to give up and surrender to Billy. It was hypnotic.

Billy leaned forward and breathed his next word onto Homelander's mouth. "Liar."

Homelander whimpered when their mouths met, but he parted his lips readily and began to suck on Billy's tongue as soon as he had access, ashamed at his body's reaction and ready to shut Billy up. The supe tasted like absolutely nothing, not even toothpaste. It was almost unsettling, were it not for the wet warmth of his mouth that was like any other. What a weird thing to discover this fucker's humanity through.

Billy decided he'd had enough of the stalling and went to his knees. The supe's legs slipped from his waist in the movement; they were unsteady when holding up his weight.

Homelander willingly pushed his hips into Billy's hands as he began to open the belt holding the outfit together. He'd never seen the ins 'n outs of that. The suit wasn't one piece. It was a top and trousers that could be pulled down like leggins. Skin-tight and stuffed full of foam to give the impression of defined abs and pecs. Uncovering a bit of skin between the top half and the bottom half of the outfit felt like a forbidden pleasure, and Billy's mouth descended on an exposed hip bone before he even had time to plan out his move.

"Thought cock wasn't what you were looking to get," Homelander mumbled.

Billy huffed a laugh against the skin under his teeth and felt an almost nauseating flutter in his abdomen as shaky fingers held on to his shoulders. "Nah. I'm here for that pretty cunt you got hidden away." The fingers flexed and spasmed; Homelander's hips ground forward of their own accord.

Billy was so hard he felt dizzy with it, and he blinked to get his wits about him. He couldn't forget his mind completely. This was still none other than the monster who'd destroyed him - or the parts that were worth destroying anyway.

He pulled the ridiculous trousers of the outfit down to Homelander's knees and was met with...

"Red panties? You on the rag?"

"You're disgusting," Homelander commented, but he sounded so out of breath Billy considered the comment flattery.

"Gets you wet enough." The front of the supe's briefs was almost black with precum in the low light of Billy's living room. "Why give you pretty words when this gets the job done just fine, eh, bird?"

"Please." And oh, if that word didn't go straight to Billy's dick.

"Please what?"

Homelander squirmed, and Billy didn't help by blowing air on the wet spot where the cunt's cockhead was seen straining through the cotton. "Eat me-?" Shame clogged his throat, and now Billy did help out by leaning forward and rubbing his beard against an exposed thigh, earning something that came close to a mewl and finally got the answer he desired. "Eat me out. Daddy."

"Good girl." He pulled the briefs down to the rest of the way and went on to unzip the ridiculous red boots. The supe toed out of them so quickly he nearly tripped, and Billy made quick work of the rest of the clothes by pulling on them to let the cunt step out.

Half-naked, the masculinizing effects of the costume were visible. The clothed half of Homelander still looked imposing, but his naked legs were literal sticks. His ass round, but not nearly as firm as the outfit made it seem. Billy slid his hands up the back to cup the cheeks. "Leg on Daddy's shoulder, girl. Come on. Giddy up."

Homelander obeyed without complaint, like he was beyond words. Maybe Butcher had him where he wanted. And where was that even? In what universe did he want him? And was there still a remote chance he'd wake up hard and full of self-loathing?

Not much time to think about it when the current position spread the cunt's ass so deliciously and allowed Billy a good look at his hole. Fucker was shaved everywhere, it seemed, not a single hair more than necessary on him.

"Brazilian? Fine choice, princess."

"God, fuuuck." Homelander shivered, a foot pressing into Billy's shoulder blade with an amount of pressure that bordered on abusive. He'd get a bruise there. It drove him forward, though.

"Got the prettiest cunt I've seen." As if to prove a point, Billy lapped at the hole, huffing a laugh when he saw the muscle contract. "Look at that. Pinker than a virgin. Or is that it, huh? Anyone ever been where I am now?"

The silence was damning.

"Never had a man before." He held onto Homelander's thighs for leverage and pulled himself up again, shoving his face in for real this time.

Homelander's hand found his hair and pulled with surprising gentleness. It was an interesting contrast. Billy'd have sooner expected him to push him forward and not try to pull him backwards, but the cunt probably was lost to the pleasure and didn't remember how to move in any coordinated fashion. And they'd barely started.

He lapped at the furled muscle, relishing in the way it spasmed against his lips. As much as Homelander kept complaining, this he could hardly deny. This was his body talking.

No denying it; Billy'd always been an ass man. Something about getting his tongue in there had been appealing since a young age. The filth of it, sweat and musk. The embarrassment of his partners when they realized how much he loved inhaling all of it. Like a bloodhound.

Not with him. He was clean, no sweat, no smell. But aroused all the same and opening up to Billy's ministrations. The thighs around his face quivered. The hand in his hair went from insistent to demanding. Homelander's body was putting out heat like a furnace, and it drove sweat to Billy's brow.

"Fuck," he could hear a muffled voice from above. Was the cunt covering his mouth to keep in his noises? Afraid there were fans in the apartments around?

There was definitely movement happening, and Billy just knew without looking that Homelander meant to touch himself. He pulled back immediately, licked his lips where Homelander could see and looked up at him with disappointment.

Homelander's hand around his own cock went still, and his eyes were wide. He's scared he's been bad, Billy realized, and the thought made his neglected cock throb. Fuck, he'd have to get out of those trousers. The strain against the zipper was gonna kill him.

Billy gently pried the supe's hand away from his erection. "Pretty birds like you only come from getting their snatch eaten."

Homelander let out a wet sound that might have been a gasp or a sob. His eyes were teary, and- was that a red gleam or was Billy just suffering the first effects of hypoxia from spending minutes between those cheeks?

"You're close anyway. No reason to abuse that pretty lil' bean of yours."

"My-"

"Your clit, luv." Billy dove back in.

He tried not to get too smug at the gasp that Homelander let out when he managed to work his tongue in again. He knew it wouldn't do much for this one, but he rubbed his face sideways against an inner thigh anyway. At least give the notion of a notion of beard burn to a cunt with impenetrable skin. Felt soft to the touch, though. Real lifelike.

His own drool dripped down his chin and onto his sleep shirt, but he didn't plan on wiping it off. Half the fun was getting dirty and besides- "Fuckin' dripping, babygirl. Gonna squirt all over Daddy? Is that it? You gettin' close."

Homelander's head fell back against the wall; Billy could hear the small thud. How he still had enough of his wits to not slam it back so hard he went through the wall was beyond him. Cunt's self control was so ingrained it was a downright sad business. Though Billy really preferred to live, most days.

He gave it his all, tongue-punching the cunt's hole until his jaw ached because he needed to feel him break, he needed it more than he needed to come. He grinned when he could feel the first small contractions in the muscle, the way Homelander's body began to seize. His muscles started trembling where Billy was holding on.

"Come for Daddy."

"Fffuck!" The supe broke above him. Billy was wise to pull his tongue out before that happened, but did push his thumb into Homelander's perineum for some extra stimulation.

There was a hand in his hair again, but it felt downright weak, barely grasping.

Homelander's leg slipped off him tiredly, and the supe blinked at him with mild confusion, glassy-eyed and dopey, but apprehensive. Billy was almost sure he mirrored the expression.

He hadn't even orgasmed himself, but there was a sort of mental clarity barreling towards him like a train, and he really, really wanted to close his eyes before the headlights of that thing hit him.

Homelander took the decision from him because when Billy did blink, the pile of clothes on the floor and the entire supe had vanished into thin air.

He sat on the floor for a good half an hour before his aching knees forced him to get up and he managed to wipe his mouth with fingers that were just a bit too unsteady.

#billy butcher #homelander #butchlander #my writing

238 notes · View notes

adharastarlight · 5 months

Text

Tis The Season

Eight: Music

Jegulus smut with maybe... some plot? Sirius doesn't know (just like if you know me irl? you dont) about jegulus at all... anyway, there's a reason James always has his music on too loudly

“Turn the music down, James!”

The brunette heard his best friend's yell echo from across the hall but he wasn't listening. He was also one hundred percent sure that Sirius would rather hear the possibly too loud bass of his music than the noises his little brother was making.

“Sh-shit, Jamie, fuck,” Reg managed the words between gasped moans, nails digging into the older boy’s back.

He cursed, “that's it, baby, you're so fucking perfect.”

The younger whimpered, arching into him further and throwing his head back, exposing that beautiful neck. That neck he knew he wasn't meant to mark. But it was right there. It was taunting him. Regulus let out a gasped moan when his boyfriend started sucking and biting at his neck. He would've said something, that it was a bad idea maybe, if he wasn't slowly going insane with bliss. A slightly louder moan tore free from him, almost animalistic, when James reached between them to rub circles against his clit, slowly, faster, faster, fuck.

“So good for me, angel.” James grunted at the nails scratching down his back, his hips stuttering slightly, “I'm so close, fuck.”

“Jamie, merde.”

The brunette moaned into his neck, against the skin he'd probably bruised by now, cursing as his boyfriend came, clenching around him. His hips lost their rhythm as he came, pressing fleeting kisses against Reg's neck and shoulders and collar bones as he slowly lowered himself to lie on top of him.

Regulus let out a soft huff as the older man's weight pressed into him and reached up to card his fingers through his hair gently, “hi sweetheart.”

He smiled and reached over for the remote for the stereo, turning down the music and pressing a kiss to the other's temple, “you need to find a way to be quieter, angel.”

“We've music and you like it when I'm loud.”

“Sirius yelled for me to turn it down, he'll catch on at some point.”

“That's his problem, not mine.”

James laughed softly, “it'll be your problem when your boyfriend is hung drawn and quartered, my love.”

“He wouldn't hurt my boyfriend!”

“I mean in his defence, he has no idea-”

“...Stop making excellent points.” He kissed his nose and tugged on his hair gently, “I liked the new mixed tape.”

“I thought you would.”

Reg smiled, about to reply and ask when he'd made it, but a holler came up the steps again. Followed by impatient stomping on stairs.

“James! You arse! It's your bloody turn to cook dinner! What the fuck are you doing in here?” The handle of his room twisted but the door remained closed, the brunette muffling his laugh in his boyfriend's neck. “Why the fucking hell is your door locked? Prongs! Come and make dinner you arse!”

“Go.” The younger whispered it into his hair, shushing the protest he knew was coming, “I'm fine, my love, I'm great actually. I'll be even better if my brother doesn't come barging in here. Go on.”

“Prongs!”

“Coming, I'm coming! Chill, Pads.” He pulled away reluctantly and kissed the figure smiling under him before rolling out of the bed and tugging on his boxers and joggers. He chuckled softly when his boyfriend lobbed his tee at him, lowering his voice to a whisper, “what's this for?”

Regulus grinned and tugged the duvet over himself, “you've scratches.”

“You're such a cat.”

“And you're such a stag, now shoo.”

The older boy scoffed and tugged on the tee before slipping out of his door, making sure it closed behind him before his best mate could look in, “you're very impatient, Pads.”

Sirius scanned him curiously, but merely shrugged and started walking downstairs, “what were you even doing? You're all flushed.”

“Pull-ups, sorry about the music, didn't realise how loud it was when I was in the moment.”

“It's alright, you're lucky Reggie doesn't mind that kind of music.”

“Yeah, really lucky.” He smiled to himself and clapped his mate on the back, “right, what d'you want for dinner?

***

“Reg!!! It's dinner!”

Regulus groaned at his brother's holler and rolled out of the bed he'd buried himself back into after his quick shower. He grabbed his shirt from the side and cursed under his breath at the state of it. They'd maybe been a little frantic to get the clothes off earlier.

“Regulus!”

“I'm coming you grumpy old dog!” He called back, reaching into his boyfriend's wardrobe for one of his tees which fell just above his knees, foregoing his boxers and trousers because… making said boyfriend suffer was awfully good fun.

James looked up as the younger boy walked into the lounge and almost choked. He also almost dragged him back up to his room. He was starving, but the plate in front of him had never looked so unappetising.

“Finally! What took you so long, étoile?”

He shrugged and settled into his spot, the one between James and the arm of the sofa. Which he honestly had made his, before he actually knew where the man who would become his boyfriend sat. He could feel the probably-not-subtle eyes running over him and smiled, “dinner looks good.”

His brother nodded and flopped into the armchair near them, picking up the remote, “I love mum and dad but I might love eating in front of the tv more.”

Regulus nodded and forced a shiver, tugging the blanket over himself and the brunette, “me too. It's far more relaxed.”

His boyfriend grinned at him and moved his hand to his inner thigh, brushing against where he'd expected to find boxers and stifling a groan by stuffing a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. He glanced at his best friend whose attention was affixed to the screen and dipped his hand between his thighs, brushing lightly against his clit.

“Oh, Reggie, Pandora called.”

He raised an eyebrow at his brother, ignoring the teasing touches as best as he could, “she did?”

“Yeah, asked about going to the city centre tomorrow, the library. I said you'd call if you couldn't go but otherwise meet her there at eleven.”

James waited for the moment his boyfriend opened his mouth to pinch his clit, just hard enough to elicit a sharp inhale.

“Oh, yeah, that's great. I'll definitely g-” he forced back a moan as a finger slipped into him, curling up to brush his gspot, “go-oh.”

Sirius glanced over at the stuttered word and furrowed his brows, “you okay, Reggie?”

“Yeah, yea-” he clenched his jaw when his boyfriend repeated the motion and had a sip of his water, smiling sheepishly at his brother, “hiccups, sorry.”

He shrugged and turned back to the tv. James waited a moment to ensure he wasn't going to turn back around and pushed a second finger into him, curling and stroking until he was fairly certain the it other's teeth were grinding together. He leaned over slightly, whispering against the shell of his ear, “so pretty and desperate for me, angel. In my shirt and nothing else. Practically begging me to fuck you, hm?”

Reg let out a quiet whimper, making sure his voice was just as quiet when he replied, “is this you - fuck - teaching me to be quiet?”

“Mm. You're doing so well, baby.”

“Fuck, Jamie, please.”

The brunette smirked and rubbed his thumb against his clit, moving his fingers just too slowly, “if you're quiet you can come whenever you want, angel.”

He bucked his hips into the contact slightly before nodding, biting his lip hard enough to draw the faintest blood to hold back a moan when his boyfriend sped up. His shoulders slumped into the sofa behind him as he focused on being quiet, only a quiet gasp leaving him when he came, head thrown back slightly, back arched up the tiniest amount.

James drew his hand back and waited until his boyfriend was looking at him to suck his fingers clean. He smirked at the almost silent whimper, mouthing ‘good boy’ and watching the younger boy crumble on the spot.

They were going to need louder music.

291 notes · View notes

beybaldes · 8 months

Text

it’s the last thing you wanted (it’s the first thing I do)

summer sleepover masterlist

roy kent x gn!reader

summary : “we don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to. we can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.” requested by anon.

an : I was waiting for a prompt tied to the locker room scene thank you anon 🙏🏼🙏🏼 I don’t copy the scene and just swap keeley for reader but it’s the same idea as that scene!!

it’s rotten work, not to me, you arse, not if it’s you

Roy goes down and doesn’t get back up, and you’re pretty sure it’s the scariest moment of your entire life. One of Keeley’s hands is death gripping your and Higgins is scarily still on the other side of you. No one knows what to say to you, and no one stops you as you stand from your seat in time with Roy, who finally stands on the pitch.

“I’ll be right back.”

It doesn’t need to be said that you probably won’t make it back to your seat, or that you’re 1000% going down to the changing rooms to find Roy, but Higgins and Keeley share a knowing look anyway when they let you leave.

The stairs throughout Nelson road have never felt so long and you’re sure this is the quickest you’ve ever gone down them. When you finally do make it to the backrooms of the dog track, all the corridors blur together and you feel like you’re here for the first time again. It feels like years before you reach the doors to the changing rooms and then time stands completely still; the walls stop moving, your hands stop shaking, and you can finally breathe again. Fuck, if you’re this bad, you wonder how Roy’s feeling on the other side of the door.

“Leave me alone.” Roy growled as you pushed open the door to the changing room. He’d pulled his jersey off and stuffed in the base of his locker. You wondered how much longer he’d have his name branded on the door, and unfortunately, you don’t think it’ll be very long at all. However, you can guarantee you’ll be wearing his name proudly across your back for the rest of your life. “Im serious, fuck off.” Roy’s lips tremble as you create less and less space between the two of you, his hands gripping the bench so tight that his knuckles were turning white. “Seriously, get the fuck away from me.”

Roy’s more bark then bite and you know that better then anyone. That’s why you know it’s okay for you to sit next to high, thigh pressed against Roy’s thigh, hand snaking up across his back, your fingers threading into his hair. He lets you guide his head to rest against your shoulder and he lets himself turn his head so his nose is pressed against your collar bone and now nothing else matters but you. For the first time since he hit the wet ground of the pitch, Roy feels like he can finally breathe.

“We don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to.” You whispered into Roy’s curls, keeping the soft and tender moment in the world you’d created by pulling Roy into your hold. “We can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else, yeah?”

For a long while, Roy doesn’t say anything, he just sits in your arms and takes deep breaths. Surely, the match is coming to a end when he finally does speak up, and even then it’s barely a whisper, something hidden amongst the muddy boots and unwashed training shirts. “You… I don’t expect you to stay with me after this.” The words have you frozen, your fingers stop scratching against Roy’s scalp and he pulls his head from your neck. “I know the other lads are… fitter, stronger, got careers ahead of them… all I’ve got is this stupid fucking knee, and all I’m saying is, I get if this means you don’t want me - don’t want to be with me - anymore.

“Roy.” You cooed, tears brimming your eyes as you gently grabbed his face between your hands, turning him to look at you. Roy could feel tears threatening to come to his own eyes when he saw the tears in yours, hurt and upset for him, but he swallowed them down, instead leaning into your touch and pressing a kiss against the inside of your wrist. “This doesn’t change anything for me. I love you for you, you fucking grump. Bad knee and all. You do know that right?” At Roy’s silence, you asked again. “Right?”

“Yeah, of course, it’s just…” Roy looks like even he doesn’t know how to phrase it, how to explain how he’d feeling in so few words that it’s digestible and doesn’t make you sad. You wish, especially in moments like this, he wouldn’t concern himself with everyone else’s feelings, just his own. “What if it’s hard? It’s no secret I’m getting older, but, what if I… what if I get cold? Cruel? All because I’m a sad sack of shit now that I can’t be ‘Roy Kent’ anymore.”

You thumb runs over the apple of Roy’s cheek and he preens into your touch like a cat to the sun. “It won’t be hard for me, not when it’s you, Roy. Never when it comes to you.” Roy meets your gaze and holds it, though only for a second as his eyes are quick to flicker down to your lips and notice how close you really have been to him this whole time. “I love you, even if it’s hard, and even if you’re not ‘Roy Kent’ anymore.”

Roy’s face scrunches in disproval at the teasing way you say his name, like it’s fake and some kind of joke that he’s not ‘Roy Kent’ anymore. Though he really feels that way, like a part of him has been robbed from him, you know he’s always going to be Roy fucking Kent, even if that doesn’t include anything football related.

The hands that have been holding Roy’s face, pull it closer to yours and allow you to connect your lips to his, something slow and soft and tender in a way unusual to what kissing Roy was most often like. He pulls away all to quickly for your liking, but the boys come bounding through the door a second later and you’re a little thankful he did. As Ted begins his post match speech, you stay curled into each-other, enjoying the closeness when it was clear you both needed it.

No one asked Roy about his knee, knowing that right now was way too soon, but if they had, he wouldn’t have minded. At least, not with you by his side to make it all better.

#beybaldes summer sleepover !!#ted lasso x reader #roy kent one shot #roy kent imagine #roy kent x reader

341 notes · View notes

boxboxlewis · 8 days

Note

prompt: galex + wings 🪽

It was kind of nice when Lily and Carmen weren’t around for a race weekend, not that George would ever say that. Simpler times, it reminded him of: when he and Alex were still single and fancy-free and having sex whenever they could find a door that shut. Sometimes they still hooked up, when their girlfriends weren’t around. For old times’ sakes.

They were in George’s hotel room. George was stretched out alluringly on his bed, one arm behind his head so his shirt rucked up and showed some stomach. Just trying to maximise his chances that the evening might be one of the sometimes.

“You’ve got your weird soppy-git face on,” Alex said, “what, are you thinking about your mum again?”

“No,” George said, and took his arm down. “I just—fancy blowing off some steam?”

George thought that probably he could be a good 60% less weird about Alex if Alex simply stopped smiling like that: a little dirty, a little fond, a lot as if he saw straight through George but still somehow liked him anyway.

“You need better lines, mate,” Alex said. “I’m not rewarding that.” He came and sat on the bed, though. Reached out and rubbed a thumb over George’s hipbone, considering.

“Did it hurt,” George said seriously, and then as Alex shoved his shoulder, “when you fell out of heaven—oi—!”

One moment Alex was braced over him, laughing, and the next he’d flung himself back, back off the bed and onto the hotel carpet, away from George.

“Er?” George said. Alex was breathing heavily (good, usually) and he’d gone all pale (very bad). George couldn’t think what might have happened to cause it. He tried a joke. “I did actually brush my teeth before you came over, so…”

“No, it’s not—” Alex was biting at his lip. “I shouldn’t, today. My shoulders.”

“Your shoulders don’t want us to have sex.”

“Don’t be a dick, George. Practice today was rough, that’s all.”

That’s never stopped us from hooking up before, George didn’t say. He stood up slowly, so as not to startle Alex, and moved towards him like a hunter towards a deer. Probably. “Let me see, then.” He put his hand on Alex’s waist. “Come on, let Dr George have a look.”

Alex’s face did something strange and vulnerable. “This is a terrible idea,” he muttered, “I’m an idiot, I—hey, careful, please!”

George was easing Alex’s shirt up over his head. “Turn around for me. Good lad.” Alex snorted at that, which was more normal, at least. “Oh, blimey.” Alex’s back was a welter of raw oozing skin, bloody and scraped to hell, like someone had been at his shoulderblades with a meat mallet. “Alex, you’ve—you need to see a doctor, I think, mate. This is proper bad. You’re going to get an infection if you’re not careful.”

“I’m not seeing a doctor.”

George recognised Alex’s implacable bastard voice when he heard it. “All right, fine, but—I’ve got some Germolene in my bag. At least let me put that on?”

“Fine, but don’t— Fine.”

George got the ointment and arranged Alex face down on the bed. Usually a great position for Alex: but usually he wasn’t fucking bleeding everywhere. “Right,” George said. “Right, I think it will be easiest if I sit on your arse.”

“Convenient,” Alex muttered. He had his hands folded under his cheek, face turned to one side. “Not at all because you’re obsessed with my arse.”

George ignored him and clambered awkwardly into place, sitting on Alex’s arse, knees snugly bracketing his back. It wasn’t all that comfortable, actually, Alex being a bony motherfucker. “Okay, this might sting a bit. Also, sorry if it’s cold.” He squeezed out some Germolene onto a finger and tentatively swiped it along Alex’s left shoulderblade. Alex hissed in a breath. “That all right, mate?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. Or it would be fine if you could just stop being so fucking—solicitous. Dickhead.”

George rolled his eyes and squeezed some more ointment onto his finger. “Sorry for caring.” He worked the thick cream into Alex’s broken skin, as gently as he could. Up and down, along the bony ridges on either side of Alex’s upper back. Alex’s skin was greasy and warm under his fingers, and the room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing. The antiseptic smell of the Germolene seemed loud, somehow.

“Uh,” Alex said. “I—this was a mistake, actually, I think, I need—George, stop!”

George pulled his hands back. Alex was breathing rapidly, like maybe he was turned on, which would be perhaps slightly weird under the circumstances but not weird enough to justify a freakout. They’d had weirder sex before, definitely. “It’s okay if you like it,” he said.

“No, I—” Alex pressed a hand over his face, long fingers splayed over his cheek. “Fuck. Fuck! George, you need to leave.”

“Er, right, point of order: this is actually my hotel room?”

“I really mean it, George, you need to—fuck!”

Before George could reply his attention was distracted by Alex’s back, which was rippling. The movement was happening underneath his skin, as if the bones were shifting, as if some creature inside were flexing and stretching. George was still sitting on Alex’s arse, and probably some spirit of self-preservation should have sent him sprinting for the door, but instead he leaned forward and pressed his hand to the skin of Alex’s back where it overlay whatever was happening inside his body. The squirming was viscerally unsettling to feel, but not unpleasant.

“George—”

“It’s all right,” George said, with false confidence, “I’ll just grab my phone and call 999—I think it works anywhere, right, they just reroute the call—no problem, mate, we’ll get an ambulance here for you—”

And then he stopped talking, because something was erupting from Alex’s back. Two things, actually, bony and huge and covered with pale brown feathers. They unfolded, stretching up almost to the ceiling, and beat once; and then tucked themselves back down along Alex’s sides, warm and thick against George’s legs.

“Fuck,” Alex said.

George said, “You’ve got wings.”

“Yeah, no shit, George.”

“You’ve got—” George managed to stop himself from repeating You’ve got wings, but only barely. “You. Erm. How long? Have you—”

“Years,” Alex said. His wings twitched, almost smugly. “Used to be easier to keep them hidden, though. Past couple of months it’s been a real—ah.”

George was carding his fingers through the feathers of Alex’s right wing, exploring the textures, how they parted for his fingers. “There’s different kinds of feather,” he said. “These really long ones up here, and then the short fluffy ones—”

Alex made a sort of broken sob noise, and immediately stuffed his fist into his mouth. George jerked his hand back.

“Sorry, shit, sorry, is it—can I touch them,” he asked belatedly. “Does it—it must feel weird, I guess.”

“It feels good. No one has, before.”

The neanderthal part of George’s mind hefted its club and began grunting triumphantly. “You haven’t shown anyone else?”

“No, I mean, it’s like. Kind of a weird thing to bring up, right?”

“Mildly weird,” George agreed, and started stroking Alex’s wing again: the first person ever to do so.

thank you to @janinaduszejko for reading this over and to @onadarklingplain for the prompt!

#galex #my fic #gr63 #aa23 #occam's razor suggests that alex probably DOES have wings #bc surely that is more likely than williams simply not being able to fit his seat so his shoulders don't bleed after every race

86 notes · View notes

sidemenxyn · 6 months

Text

Come dine with me, chips video

Tw: language, Bunch of shenanigans, play fighting and I believe that is all!

w2s x Y/n Willows

–—–

“Welcome to another come dine with me, todays chef will be the one and only Y/n Willows!” Chip did his voice over as clips of the video played. So today was the day you were cooking for the boys. You were excited yet nervous, you had critics who would minus a point for the smallest thing (he being Theo) but he wasn’t gonna stop you today!

You spoke to the camera “right so today is the day, I’m gonna kick everyone’s arses.” You added “with the help of Harry.” The camera zoomed out to reveal Harry standing next to you. You looked at Harry as he said “we are gonna win I know it!” You agreed. You looked at the camera “so todays menu!” The clip cuts you off revealing Calfreezy saying “the starter is some small wings and some garlic bread, sounds nice!” Cuts to Chip “yeah, sounds nice although will the garlic bread be homemade? Knowing Y/n it probably is.”

You looked towards Harry and spoke “right, so, Harry go grab the sauces and wings.” Harry walked over to the fridge and cupboards and did what he was told. You spoke “So right know I’m going to be making the garlic butter as I’ve made the dough yesterday.” You filmed yourself making garlic butter as the camera man filmed Harry smothering the sauces on the wings. Once he placed them into the oven, you heard a knock on your shears apartment’s door.

You looked at Harry “babe, can you get that and grab the drinks.” He smiled and nodded. As you placed the garlic bread into the oven more of the boys started to arrive.

Once your starter was done you played everything up and handed out the plates to everyone who was sat on the table.

You stood there as everyone took a bite and to see their faces be delighted by the flavours. Theo trying to be a proper critic asked “what sauces did you use?” You answered “I made them all last night, you have bbq, chilli and some tzatziki sauce on the side.” He nodded as the boys continued to dig in.

Once you had collected everyone’s plates you then went back into the kitchen to finish making the main course.

The video cuts to Randolph speaking “for dinner we’ll be having a 8oz steak with home cooked chips with steamed vegetables and garlic butter. Sounds fucking wonderful!” Clip cuts to Theo “yes I like the sound of this! Hopefully and most likely it will be better than Chip’s that’s for sure.” Clip cuts to Cal “I’ve lived with Y/n for years and I know full well she can cook a good steak. Like she’s toot tier steak cooker! If that makes any sense…”

As you and Harry were working away Harry decided to grab the flour for the dessert and throw a handful towards you. Leaving you covered in flour, you both burst out laughing. You said “Gosh Harry! That’s for desert, you dick!” He laughed and replied “made you laugh though didn’t it?” You smirked and playfully smacked his arm.

The main course didn’t take long as you prepared it before filming, as you walked into the dinning room Cal laughed “what the fuck happened in there?!” You rolled your eyes jokingly “Harry get his hands on the flour for the desert didn’t he.” The boys laughed as they watched as dinner was placed onto the table. Everyone was digging in and enjoying it, you and the boys were joking around and having conversations.

As everyone was finishing up their food you asked “is everyone still up for desert?” Everyone was nodding and replying with a “yes.” So you went to the kitchen and you walked into the kitchen and prepared to make the last dish of the night.

Clip cuts to Callux “for desert Y/n’s making cookies and cheese cake, it has and/or so I’m guessing we get to pick?” Clip cuts to Chip “I’ve had good cheesecake in my time so I’m hoping that Y/n can live up to those very expectations!”

You quickly walked back into the dinning room and asked “who wants cookies with ice cream and who wants cheesecake?” Theo asked “could I get cookies and ice cream please?” You nodded as Randy asks for the same. Everyone else wanted cheesecake, thankfully you had made the cheesecake earlier as it was now perfectly set. You quickly placed the homemade dough into the oven so the cookies were nice and warm for Theo and Randy.

You asked “Harry can you ask the boys if they want another drink?” He nodded and went back out to shortly return to the fridge and grab a few bottles and cans. As the cookies and such were in the making the boys had entertainment of a magician who was actually really good. You smiled as you could hear the boys laughing and enjoying themselves; the smell of cookies filled the kitchen as the timer went off. You placed the pan onto the counter. You scooped the ice cream onto the plate, then placing the nicely warmed cookies onto the plate. Now that desert was done and so was the entertainment, you walked out with the deserts in hand. Everyone seems happy to see the final dish to the evening.

Everyone was praising your good desert as you and Harry high-fived. You and Harry were proud of what you made.

The clip cuts to the boys giving you a score, Chip gives a 9, Randy gives a 8, Calfreezy gives a 8 so does Theo gave a 7 and Callux gave a 7.

You said “hope you enjoyed my cooking! If you’d like me to make a recipe or step by step go check out my channel, w3s. If you enjoyed and want to see more, subscribe to Chip! See you in the next one!”

65 notes · View notes

thesherrinfordfacility · 7 months

Text

let's talk about shax

looking at shax in finer detail has been on my to-do list for some time, and further to a little ??? post i made, i think it's high time to get some thoughts out on virtual paper. i won't pretend that this is going to reach any kind of logical or plausible conclusion - because let's face it, it won't - but given that she has a pretty substantial 40mins-ish of screentime, and is raising more questions than giving answers, she needs to be looked at anyway!✨

(an extremely long post, for which you can have a half-hearted apology)

rank and position

(and a little bit on furfur my beloved)

chronologically, we first meet shax in 1941 when she and furfur are colleagues processing incoming arrivals to hell - essentially made out to all be nazis. she remarks later on that is a"former admissions demon, senior grade", which would track that, most likely, she is fairly low-ranking, albeit in a possibly supervisory role. she's immediately characterised as efficient and ambitious, processing paperwork robotically and swiftly, and has a more no-nonsense demeanour, especially in contrast to furfur's more... customer service? approach:

but then when furfur goes to the fire vending machine, she follows and hangs back, before making some stilted small-talk with him. she then takes the in that furfur gives her - his discontentment with working in admissions - to put forward an idea of intelligence sharing, a very scratch-my-back-i'll-scratch-yours offer. she hears about a position opening up in temptations, and furfur baulks in that he doesn't have that ambitious drive, that it's never come naturally to him to push upwards and put himself forwards for higher position (despite his fatigue in his current department).

she assures him that she has in-roads with higher-ranking demons, specifically those on the dark council, providing that he essentially does the same for her by sharing any knowledge he gains of wayward demons etc. obviously, he doesn't do this with crowley later in the episode - keeps the intel to himself - and when it goes tits up with the photograph, she appears to rub it in.

now, likening this to any real-life context, it's usually a little weird when a 'normal' member of staff has the ear of the big-wigs. i certainly don't think, in shax's case, it's for any lewd reason that she does, but i think it instead indicates that she's either an internal informant, literally hired to do exactly as she's done with furfur and report any insubordination or rebellion*, and/or she was particularly close with the higher demons pre-fall. the latter, to me, seems unlikely, given their interactions in the bookshop in ep6.

so, shax starts off low-ranking, potentially surveilling her colleagues from that innocuously low position (which could further suggest it's a plant, and she's actually considered high ranking in the figurative sense), and is able to sense discontentment or insecurity in others to manipulate to her advantage*. however, the dynamic is reversed she then has to go crawling to furfur in ep5 when she needs foot soldiers for her bookshop siege, and furfur certainly regards her apathetically during this particular interaction, which ultimately bites her in the demon arse when she can only get 70 demons rallied.

but then we move to her in a newly promoted position on earth, replacing crowley. i think we can be fairly certain that crowley is of at least middling rank in hell (i do not think, by any stretch, he's considered as low-ranking as basic demons are, for example - and, this time, it's probably because of not only his power but his seemingly substantial connection to beelzebub pre-fall, or even based on a part that he had in the fall itself).

now, this doesn't necessarily mean that being hell's representative in earth means you have to have rank - crowley could have gained some rank in hell following the successful fall of humanity, not necessarily before it - but if you are in some measure responsible for hellish goings-on on earth, i'd bet that you would need to be well-regarded in hell to be trusted to do so. ergo - i think by the point that she comes to earth, shax has been promoted by rank, not just by position, if we consider the two as separate elements.

the bit here that gets me is that shax describes herself as a plenipotentiary. this is usually used in relation to ambassadorship and by definition means someone that can take action on behalf of the sovereign, or - more generally - has full powers to act in place of an authority. using 'plenipotentiary' doesn't appear to be a bluff only to aziraphale, given that she also says it to beelzebub's guard, so it definitely appears the case that she does in fact have these powers. that being said, it seems that there is a limit to her authority; she has to have the attack on the bookshop officially sanctioned by beelzebub. but again, it seems indicative that her rank is increased, to have this level of power.

the other bit is that she reveals herself to be 'demon of the fifth house' to the guard, who in turn announces that bit specifically upon her entrance into the throne room (?). so, this must have some kind of significance over her position on earth, and possibly is instead to do with her rank - not to mention would be appropriate announcement when appearing before royalty. if we consider that in the ars goetia, the demon shax held the title of marquis, this would correlate as being below king, president, prince, and duke, also listed as demon ranks, and all five ranks above counts/earls and knights (and im assuming this based on the british nobility system.. im also personally not subscribing the use of 'fifth house' to anything astrological, but it certainly has its implications that are quite interesting).

lastly, in ep6, we end on the suggestion that furfur and shax 'make up', and he agrees to help her get the position of ruling hell in the wake of the departure of beelzebub.

dagon is titled as a lord in s1, and in s2 is indicated as being at least head of admissions (being lord of the files, this makes sense), as well as potentially having their own seat on the dark council (they're addressed by the honorific 'maleficence' by furfur, and dagon is sat along with the two other demons that, together, might make up the dark council)*.

by the ars goetia, furfur is ranked as a count, but his presence in the bookshop itself in ep6 suggests he too may in fact be dark council* (which for me, raises questions - can we presume that he finally worked his way up to recquisitions, gained a rank, and a subsequent seat on the dark council because of some success he's had off-screen? is this where the s3 1941 scene could come in, and was shax involved in this, too?). but in any case, if we follow that above system, shax would outrank them both, even if she's not dark council - making her a prime candidate for the princeship (especially if a) their story to satan about uncovering the biggest traitor to hell* goes well, and b) as long as someone outranking her doesn't make a comeback - duke hastur, perhaps?)

*dagon does say in ep6 that they believe "the dark council will have something to say about all this nonsense", and furfur in turn uses "they" when referring to the council, which would suggest they both sit apart from it... but i personally don't think that excludes the possibility that dagon or indeed furfur are on the council; perhaps that they just, in fact, are only two members of it, with two other members being the two demons sat beside dagon in ep4...?

powers and characteristics

ive noted in this speculation about her ability to sense gabriel in the bookshop, but i don't think that it's necessarily a special ability or power. given that gabriel is indeed in the fly (and, as the linked post suggests, was in fact not affected by the 25-lazarii miracle), she would be probably able to sense him like any demon would, and more readily sense him than a fellow angel would (ie. michael in ep2) - consider it potentially as a self-defense kind of mechanism; to sense out an enemy being.

im undecided, thinking about what other abilities she displays, that they are in fact powers, per se. crowley is described in s1 as being singular in his ability to hold the burning bentley together because he uniquely has an imagination - and i don't think this has changed (that crowley has power because of his imagination). demons in general seem to have innate sense and abilities for certain nefarious deeds, but... shax in particular appears to just be very good at using them.

*the most obvious thing is her ability to sense weakness and insecurity - i would suggest that this is just something all demons can do, but there's conflicting argument to this. regardless, she demonstrates this keenly in ep6 with maggie and aziraphale both:

now, shax deliberately references material things that, on the surface, she hadn't ought to know - the shop issues with maggie, and the eating (specifically the sushi) thing with aziraphale. and both absolutely hit their target. now, she could be able to sense these things as a result of some degree of telepathy or acute empathy.

that being said, however, i think her knowing these things is more to do with her role in hell potentially being that of an informant. which begs the following questions:

how long has she been watching whickber street? and why havent aziraphale and crowley noticed her in the area? (we know from ep1 that crowley knows that shax is constantly checking in on him - but im assuming he doesn't know that she's doing it to this extent?) (and im also assuming that this isn't, in fact, at least one of the reasons why crowley has taken to sleeping in the bentley instead of finding accommodation elsewhere - nor with aziraphale... which leads me to the next question)

has crowley in fact noticed her lurking around secretively, and doesn't want to insert himself into the bookshop permanently because if he did, he'd weaken the security of the shop itself? (re: the whole sanctuary permission thing)

could crowley potentially have let something slip in his off-screen interactions with her? she demonstrates that she's an intuitive talker - crowley nearly lets (ep3) and aziraphale does let (ep4) something slip to her - and misdirection is a huge part in how she gets information divulged to her (whilst posed as being a comic bit, i feel like the boiler conversation was in part used to catch crowley off-guard, before she resorts to outright threatening aziraphale)

alternatively - we see shax recruit furfur in ep4 to gather intel for her. she also attempts to recruit crowley directly in ep1, to her failure (and this informs her on where his loyalty lies - crowley does not make an exemplary spy im afraid). therefore, is there anything to suggest that she doesn't do this elsewhere on earth? are there potentially demons up on earth, specifically in whickber street, that are feeding her intel on crowley and aziraphale generally? (side-eye at ms cheng, and potentially nina? it could potentially account for some Weird Ass moments on both of their parts)

where intel on maggie comes in - is maggie in fact a replacement for aziraphale, and is in shax's purview to spy on? and/or is it just ambient information she's picked up herself from hanging around the bookshop unseen/that her informants have given her? aziraphale had two conversations about the rent with maggie in ep1; one taking place in the record store privately, but the second out on the street.

and, just maybe, is this intelligence on aziraphale specifically being fed back to heaven? to metatron? through the hell-vine? metatron brings him a coffee from GMCoGMD; is it because they've seen aziraphale go in on numerous occasions, and assumes this is what he orders?

moving to my next point somewhat, that also informs on the above: shax is able to fully disguise herself. she disguises herself as the hitchhiker in ep4, and as multiple people in her conversation with crowley in ep3 out on the street. i don't think it's necessarily possession, but more that she's able to, or is mindful to, blend in more completely with humans. this makes sense, once again, if she is essentially a spy (which, now i think about it, poses such an interesting mirror to crowley in terms of the espionage theme). im not convinced that it's really anything more than that, other than to inform that she may have been lurking about, unrecognised from being in disguise, around whickber street.

that being said, she evidently still doesn't have a full grasp on social cues - sarcasm being a prominent one. i think at some points she may use this perceived cluelessness to her advantage - it makes others underestimate her - but for the most part, i think she's still getting used to fieldwork, and is quickly trying to learn these humanisms so she doesn't get caught out again (eg. in ep2, crowley has to tell her that what he said was sarcasm, but in ep6, she herself recognises the sarcasm coming from beelzebub). (it kind of, very loosely, reminds me of the brilliant scene in inglorious basterds with hicox holding up three fingers wrong - assimilation to local custom is a huge part in maintaining a convincing cover).

i do have one small conundrum, however, and that's her scene in the car with aziraphale. first of all, we leave off from ep3 where she asks crowley where aziraphale is - and this seems relatively genuine and not quite a bluff; that she's trying to needle him in a last-minute attempt for information. but, she then immediately seems to know that aziraphale is on his way back from edinburgh. now, i couldn't quite work out why she would suddenly know this (seems to be a big intel gap to be filled off-screen), but then i realised that not only does aziraphale talk about going to edinburgh whilst outside in ep2, but in ep3 it's mentioned in front of muriel:

now, it could be something of nothing (and reflection i think it is, in fact, nothing). we know that muriel likely goes straight into GMCoGMD after this scene in the backroom, and we also know that she reports back into michael and uriel on her findings. was this a bit of information that they reported back in an off-screen conversation, and the intel made its way from heaven, down to beelzebub, and back to shax? and so, at the end of ep4, when shax says "the angel we to edinburgh... you know which one.", she's referring back to a previous conversation between her and beelzebub?

(in hindsight this seems Very Obvious but i needed to parse it out to arrive at this conclusion - apologies)

but back to ep4: she speculates about aziraphale and crowley's relationship, and she could have gotten this information from furfur post-1941. but she also remarks on the bentley - that crowley has had it for 90 years. now, im not entirely convinced that shax would have researched it. did she ask crowley once, and he told her? alternatively, has someone been spying for her since 1941? is it anything to do with his and crowley's conversation about aziraphale driving the bentley, in ep2, taking place out on the street? who was around to hear it?

costume

now i can't take the credit for these two particular spots, they were pointed out by much more observant people than me (thank you @hellsgardener01 and @canarybell for this!!!) but shax definitely appears to have pinched a couple of crowley's accessories - namely, the 2008 sunglasses, and his watch:

so, off the back of this, a couple of thoughts from me:

crowley may well have left them at the flat when he had to vacate (regardless if they're miracled or actual material objects), and presumably shax has just helped herself

she may have done this as a trophy/power move (bless), as an intimidation tactic (she wears them, as far as i can see, specifically when she's confronting crowley, and not in other scenes), or because she has a weird obsession with crowley himself... not sure how i feel about the latter, personally

i couldn't quite get a good enough picture, but he also wears the watch in the 2008 st james park scene, same as the sunglasses. now, i don't necessarily want to get crackpot (but im gonna*), but this is also the same scene where god narrates that the ducks are particularly fond of bread fed to them by secret agents (and yes, yes, i know it was comedy and for The Bit, but stick with me it's fun).

there is also the snake clasp/broach on her waist - now, i can't spot this on any of crowley's costumes (although, if anyone else does, please let me know!!! ), but id also add that whilst it's not 100% clear, she may also be wearing this in 1941, and not just exclusively in 2023 (ie. is it anything to do with crowley?) it's indicated not only by the imprint on the leather breastplate she wears in eps5 and 6, but also supported by the ars goetia, that her aspect is a stork - which begs the question as to why she's wearing a snake, of all things?

and last thing! in ep6, when laying on the sofa, she's wearing a ring that looks veeeeery similar to the one furfur gives the nazis in ep4. it could be that she calls furfur during the siege, and he informs dagon and beelzebub that they need to go check out whats happening on earth (which could explain why furfur is there is he's not dark council*).

on a lighter note: the ducks

this is a relatively small thing, and a bit of a stretch, but hang in there soldier, you're nearly at the end. in s1, in the 1862 scene, i potentially think crowley is on edge after 1827 not just because he got dragged off to hell (and tortured?) for an undetermined amount of time, but because someone overheard him and aziraphale in the graveyard - i explore this in this post. in 1862, he suddenly becomes a lot more paranoid about being overheard, even by the ducks (albeit jokily). because they must have ears - its how they hear other ducks.

so this conversation in s2 feels less like shax being ignorant about earth, and possibly that actually crowley may have had the right of in 1862, even if he doesn't know it - that ducks have ears. shax seems inordinately tense about the conversation, and seems to relax once the conversation changes back to her checking in on crowley herself.

(look, im not saying she has ducks act as her informants, or that she or anyone else is making a habit of possessing ducks, *or - given that her aspect is a stork, - that she's taken to chilling out in the pond herself...but... im not not saying that, either).

all of this to say - not exactly sure what this all means in the grand scheme of things. but i do think shax is - has been - more important than we've possibly regarded her, and that she's been a little closer to home, for a longer time, than we've given credit for. either way, she's my next bond.

#good omens #shax spec #s2 meta #flashback meta #1941 spec #costume meta

38 notes · View notes

princessanneftw · 1 year

Text

Sorry, Charles, but the answer to everything is Princess Anne

By Deborah Ross for The Times

This week, a royal quiz because, come on, you thought you’d get away without one? This week of all weeks? And if you actually did think you’d get away without one, and I don’t mean this spitefully, aren’t you somewhat dense?

However, in the light of the no-fluff, no-nonsense interview Princess Anne recently gave to Canadian television and all the admiration that unleashed, and in my belief that you don’t like to be overstretched on a Thursday morning, particularly as some of you are still recovering from the news that Jacob Rees-Mogg finds broad beans “loathsome” — it isn’t yet known what broad beans make of him; I will ask next time I push one to the side of my plate* — I have decided to make this easy for you.

The answer, in every instance, is “Princess Anne”. Again, I don’t mean this spitefully, but if you get one wrong you will have no one to blame but yourself.

● Who is the best king we’ll never have, would have been known as “King Anne I”, and would have told those Repair Shop people to “just get on with it” and stop blubbing all over the place and let me know when you’re finished as I have to go kick ass and am behind with kicking ass as it is? (“I get up at 4.30am to kick ass but the day runs away with me all the same, Jay.”)

● Who was not their mother’s favourite child, which, to quote Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman, proved “a big mistake. BIG! HUGE!”?

● Who sits somewhere between Kate being marvellous (and “dazzling”) for just wearing a dress and Meghan being an evil bitch and the new Stalin simply for adopting a different hairstyle?

● Who has never, ever suddenly adopted a different hairstyle and therefore can’t be either an evil bitch or the new Stalin?

● If someone attempted to kidnap you on The Mall and you thought, “What would a royal do in this instance?” which royal would most spring to mind? Particularly if you wished to tell the kidnapper, “Not bloody likely.”

● Ranking them in order, which royal do you suspect rolls their eyes at Fergie the most?

● If you had to bet on one royal retaking America, who would it be?

● Which royal was never dubbed “Randy Annie” or “Air Miles Annie” because they never adopted the kind of freeloading, entitled, licentious lifestyle that would one day bite them on the arse and have them running to Mummy?

● Who, of all the family, do you suspect most often swears like a sailor under their breath and would smoke Woodbines, if they smoked?

● Which royal would be most likely to run over Paddington in their Range Rover and not look back?

● Who demanded that titles weren’t conferred on their children, saying they’d have to earn their own money, and also, chances are, campaigned, albeit unsuccessfully, for Princess Eugenie and Princess Beatrice to get married at Hackney Town Hall followed by Nando’s?

● If a royal were to meet Greg Davies in a post-performance line-up, who would be most able to think up a brutal snub along the lines of, “A lot of ex-teachers become comedians. I can’t see why”?

● Which royal most probably inherited their mother’s Tupperware and will keep it going for future generations, thereby ensuring no royal cornflakes ever go soft?

● Which royal could probably get a potato to peel itself and leap into hot fat just by looking at it?

● Who sliced and diced Cherie Blair at Balmoral in 1997 by refusing to call her “Cherie”, as requested, and instead said, “Let’s not go that way. Let’s stick to Mrs Blair, shall we?”?

● Which royal taught their mother to use Zoom during Covid — “you should have six people on your screen . . . you don’t need to see me. You know what I look like” — but probably gave up on teaching her to text, like we all do, so no judgment there?

● Which royal probably couldn’t be bothered to even get their mother started with online banking?

● Who has inherited a look that amounts to wearing a headscarf tied under the chin like an old Greek lady guiding a donkey down a lane with a stick?

● Who has a look that, for some reason, never sells out everywhere the next day?

● Which royal did The Crown reveal to have been an absolute goer in their youth?

● Which royal did, in fact, have different hair as a young child and looked the spit of Harpo Marx?

● Which royal once reportedly said of Princess Diana, “I will not be pushed around by that brainless woman”?

● If you had all their numbers, which royal would you call if you needed a chicken’s neck wringing?

● If you had to come up with a royal who once appeared on Wogan while looking for all the world as if they’d prefer to have had their head on the chopping block like that other Anne, the Boleyn one, who would that be?

● Which royal do you most imagine would give you a horsewhipping** if you didn’t close the Tupperware properly, thus failing to maintain its airtight seal and letting the cornflakes go soft?

● Which royal has best withstood all the scandals as well as their own divorce and has provided so little grist for the newspapers we might as well all just go home?

● Which royal kind of reminds you of Willa from Succession, who sees everything that goes on in this family but knows if you get too involved you’ll be torn apart and fed to the wolves?

● Lastly, of all the royals, who would you name as the one who actually gets what being a royal is all about?

(*Funnily enough, I did push a broad bean to the side of my plate just now and it said: “The feeling is mutual”)

(**Or a savaging from her dog Dotty)

#i just thought this was enjoyable #my favourite one is the fergie one #princess anne #princess royal #newspapers #british royal family #brf #kciii coronation

62 notes · View notes

writingfanficsfan · 9 months

Text

Sometimes I like to make myself cry?

This is just the start of an idea I have. Billy panicking after Steve casually says I love you while he’s eating the bread Billy baked. In my mind, they’ve been together for a little while ( a few months?) and this is the first time Steve has said those words.

“Thank fuck, you’re back!”

Before Billy could even say one word, he was crushed into a hug by Steve and before he could think about it, Billy was hugging him back. Shielding himself away from the world in the crook of Steve’s neck, breathing in his scent, and finally feeling calm for the first time since- since-

Fuck.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, pulling back just enough to look into Billy’s eyes. Billy swallowed, throat feeling closed off, tongue dry and eyes stinging. He shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment, letting out a whimpering sound when Steve kissed his lips softly.

Fuck.

“You had me worried, Billy Baby. One minute I’m eating that marvelous bread you made, the next you’re bolting out the door. I called everyone we know, but nobody had seen you. I should probably kick your arse for disappearing like that but I’m just- just glad you’re back.” Steve finished, a shyness in his eyes that made Billy’s heart crumble.

Fuck. I really screwed up.

“Can you please talk to me?” Steve asked, voice still soft, but there was worry in his eyes, a slight tenseness in his shoulders. Billy breathed out, grabbing Steve closer and kissing him hard. His heart sang when Steve instantly melted into the kiss, letting out a surprised but pleased sound. Everything had been so chaotic lately, always something coming up at work or in their lives that made it harder to just spend time together. Steve bit Billy’s lip, hands sliding down towards Billy’s arse, and smirked, turning the kiss a tad filthier.

“B-Billy. Fuck-” Steve cursed softly, knees feeling weak as he placed his hands on Billy’s chest. His fingers found their way to Billy’s necklace, playing with it as he looked down into Billy’s eyes.

“I-” Billy started, licking his lips, still tasting Steve and for a second he saw another face looking back at him. It turned his stomach upside down, his heart skipping a beat and it made him flinch.

“What’s wrong?”

Of course, Steve noticed, like he noticed a lot of things. Billy still didn’t understand why his younger self hadn’t figured out sooner how smart Steve was. Maybe not in subjects like maths or whatever else school found important but in things like this. How Steve was looking at him now, with such intensity it felt as if Steve could read his mind. As if he already knew what a screw-up Billy truly was.

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean- It didn’t mean-” Billy stopped, pulling out of Steve’s arms, biting his lip hard to focus. He crossed his arms then uncrossed them, looked away from Steve then back at him. He wanted to run and hide but he wasn’t a kid anymore. He breathed in, breathed out harshly, and then said the words that would turn their lives upside down again.

“I made out with someone else tonight.”

#My writing #harringrove #steve/billy #wip

19 notes · View notes

fitrahgolden · 7 months

Text

Should You Need Me: 9 - I rationed my breaths

“I’m fairly certain you’re meant to be at the shop.” Kate rasped, still half asleep.

Kate was also fairly certain Anthony was pretending to be asleep as he laid on top of her, head buried in her hair, torso cradled between her legs.

“Anthony?”

Nothing.

“Anthony.”

Again, nothing.

“Fancy a quick shag before work?”

Anthony’s hand shot out towards Kate’s side table drawer. As he rifled around blindly for a condom, Kate scrambled from underneath him and headed to her bathroom, calling out behind her, “That’s what I thought! Get out of my flat!”

She almost got the bathroom door closed before Anthony slid through the narrow opening, condom pinched between his teeth, filthy promises in his eyes. Kate laughed as she snatched the packet from his mouth and held it up.

"How would this help you get ready for work, hm?"

"Don't question my morning routine. Just come here."

Anthony pulled the tie of Kate's flimsy satin robe and it fell to the floor, the smooth fabric gliding over her skin easily. Conveniently, he was already naked. As Anthony commandeered her mouth with his own, he turned on the water in her shower.

"I am getting ready for work. I need to shower." He pushed Kate into the stall. "And eat," he said roughly against her ear before kissing and biting down her torso, falling to his knees.

Kate rolled her eyes. "You're not fu–" She interrupted herself with a sharp gasp as Anthony teased his way into her.

"What was that?" His words were muffled, but his smugness was palpable.

"Shut up and eat your breakfast like a good boy."

—

"Come by the shop for lunch."

Anthony was easily resisting as Kate was all but pushing him out of her flat.

"That seems like a terrible idea. Alice and Genevieve would hate me."

Anthony grabbed the hand Kate had been using to half heartedly back Anthony away from her and caught the tip of her thumb with his teeth. He kissed it before promising, "I'll be good."

"I don't believe you."

"Probably smart. Come by anyway."

Kate bit her lip. Who was she kidding?

"Fine."

"Good girl." He smacked her arse and finally headed toward the door. "Jesus, I'm late. How did that happen?"

—

Anthony sat at his desk in his office and looked up at the clock after finishing an invoice. 1:39pm. Hm. He should have heard from Kate by now, even if she had changed her plans to come by. He sent her a text and tried to play it cool while he waited for a response. He lasted all of forty-five seconds before calling. It went straight to voice-mail. Um… You know what? Fuck playing it cool. Anthony grabbed his jacket and was about to try his best not to sprint to Kate's flat when the front desk phone rang.

"I'll get it!" Genevieve called as she walked into the showroom.

"No, no, no, I'll get it." Anthony rushed past her. He just had a feeling.

"Hello?" Anthony said sharply, forgoing his typical formal shop greeting, which coloured Genevieve's face in confusion.

"Is this Anthony?"

Anthony's stomach flipped. "Yes, who's this?"

"This is Edwina, Kate's sister."

Shit, shit, shit. "What's wrong?" Anthony tried his best not to yell at his girlfriend's sister, whom he'd only briefly met once.

"Kate was in a taxi and they got in an accident. She's, um, I think she's OK. She's got some injuries and she keeps… Uh, losing consciousness."

Anthony could hear Edwina was crying. "Which hospital?"

"We didn't know how to reach you. Kate's phone was locked and now it's out of battery, and then we realised we could call the shop–"

"It's fine, it's fine. Edwina, where are you guys?"

Anthony hung up as soon as he got the information.

"Anthony, what's going on?"

He whipped around, having forgotten that Genevieve was even there. He ran into his office and grabbed his overnight bag. On his way back through the showroom and out the front door, he rambled, "No time to explain. I'll text when I can. Assume I won't be back until I tell you otherwise."

—

Anthony took the stairs two at a time to reach Kate's floor of the hospital. He nearly stumbled over himself when he stopped mid run, having set eyes on Kate's family.

The women looked over at him and he should see the stress and worry all over their faces.

“How is she?" His chest was heaving.

Mary responded as she rubbed Kaveri's back. "She's had an MRI. Broken leg and… she has two broken ribs. She's sleeping now, on pain meds. She needs to stay for at least one night."

Anthony nodded, trying to hold it together. "Can I, uh… Can I get you anything? Tea or…"

"That's kind, but no." Kaveri said quietly. "You can go see her. It's OK. But you should know…"

Wait, if they're all out here, who's with Kate?

"Thomas is in there."

Of fucking course.

"Alright…" Anthony knew this would be the absolute worst time to behave like the idiot he knew he was. He turned to go into Kate's room but stopped.

"This… obviously isn’t at all how I wanted to reintroduce myself to Kate’s family. I'm so sorry this is happening.”

—

Anthony took a minute to attempt to calm down before entering Kate's room. This is about Kate. This isn't about Tom. Fuck Tom. That probably wasn’t the sentiment Kate would want Anthony to have going into meeting Tom for the first time, but oh, well.

Anthony pushed the door open. Tom looked up from his seat next to Kate's bed. He was holding her hand. Even though he knew she was more or less OK, seeing Kate lying so still in a hospital bed shook Anthony to his core. He stood paralyzed as he watched her chest rise and fall. And then again to make sure he saw it the first time. Then again. And again.

Finally, Tom spoke. "You must be Anthony, Mr. Bridgerton Formal himself."

Anthony slowly looked over to him. "I am." No need to confirm he's Tom, just like there was no need for Tom to confirm who Anthony was.

Tom didn’t let go of Kate’s hand, didn't give any indication he was going to leave the room. He looked from Anthony to Kate, then back again.

"Nothing happened while you were together, mate," Anthony said.

"I'm not your mate." Tom snapped.

The tension thickened as silence took over the room again. Tom looked at Kate and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. It was taking everything Anthony had not to take Tom's actions as a personal challenge. Kate loved and trusted Tom. But Anthony sure as shit didn't know Tom, and he didn't trust him.

"The timing is one hell of a thing, though, isn’t it? It's hard to ignore how it looks." Tom raised his eyebrows at Anthony.

“Why?" Anthony challenged in return. "Who cares what it fucking looks like? If you think she could do that to you, you don’t know her nearly as well as she’s convinced you do.”

Tom said nothing but seemed to take Anthony's point. Anthony stepped forward as the door behind him opened. He turned to find Edwina looking past him.

"Tom," she said. "Please."

Anthony figured Edwina had been sent in when the Sharmas realised Tom wasn't coming out. Probably for the best, Anthony thought. As much as he would have relished kicking Tom out himself, he didn't want to disappoint or embarrass Kate or her family.

Tom left the room without another word or glance in Anthony's direction.

As soon as the door closed, Anthony set his bag down and pulled from it the blanket from the first day he and Kate got together in his office. He covered her with it, tucking the edges in. Then, he settled into the seat Tom had vacated. He scooted as close as he could to Kate and laid his head down next to hers as he draped one of his arms across her chest, careful to avoid the bandages wrapped around her ribs.. He resumed watching her chest rise and fall.

Anthony must have fallen asleep, and he thought he was dreaming because he heard Kate's voice.

"Anthony?"

Anthony blinked his eyes open. Kate's mums and sister were sitting on the other side of Kate, looking as if they had been there a while. Tom had his arms crossed as he stood in a corner.

"Chellam?" Kaveri stood and pushed the call button. “How are you feeling?”

Kate looked around and her eyes shifted back and forth between Anthony and Tom. She finally seemed to process her mother’s question. “Um… still quite sore. It’s a little easier to breathe.”

A nurse promptly arrived and took Kate’s vitals. “Everything looks good. Um…” He looked around. “I’m sorry, but only one of you can stay with Ms. Sharma overnight."

“I’m staying.” Anthony didn’t even think about it. He knew it may seem disrespectful to Kate’s family, but Kate was awake, and could overrule him if she wanted. Hers was the only opinion that mattered to him, ultimately.

Kate looked over to her mums and sister, who didn’t seem particularly put off by Anthony’s declaration. It was more like they were ignoring it in favour of waiting for Kate’s response. “I want him to stay,” she whispered to them.

Anthony tried to keep his sigh of relief as silent as possible.

Mary and Kaveri nodded with understanding.

“Let me give you my number.” Anthony said. Edwina handed him her phone and Anthony typed his number in before sending himself a text from Edwina’s phone. As he handed it back, he asked. "Can, um… You have keys to her flat, right? Can you take Newton home with you?"

Kate smiled and placed a hand on top of Anthony’s. “Thank you,” she said weakly.

“Yeah, of course. He’ll be in good hands, Didi. I’ll bring some clothes for you when we come back tomorrow.”

Kaveri, Mary, and Edwina kissed and hugged Kate before leaving the room. Tom slowly approached.

“We’ll talk soon, Katie.”

Katie, huh? Anthony’s nose flared.

Tom leaned forward and kissed Kate on the forehead. She seemed to genuinely be comforted by it, so Anthony again found himself trying to keep himself under control.

Once they were alone. Kate struggled to turn towards Anthony.

“Don’t try to move, baby.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Anthony laughed. “Brat.”

Kate smacked his arm, if you could call it a smack. Anthony barely felt it, and he didn’t like that she was so weak.

“Where’s the driver?”

“Of the taxi? He had some minor injuries from the airbag–”

“No, Kate. The fucker that ran into you.”

“The police took from the scene. He was on his phone when it happened.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched. “Did you get his name?”

“Yes, and I’m not going to tell you what it is.”

“Kate–”

“No, Anthony. I can guarantee whatever you may be thinking about doing right now would not be helpful, and would likely land you in jail, as well. And I need you here with me. OK?”

“OK.” Anthony leaned over and kissed her gently. The silence barely had time to settle before Anthony chanced a question. “I take it you spoke to Tom?”

Kate eyed him cautiously.

“Just tell me, Kate.”

“We talked a little. I was in and out of it. I think he was only here because I never thought to remove him as my emergency contact and they called him when I was brought in.”

“Bollocks. You mum would have let him know and he would have been here anyway.” Anthony knew he was being an arsehole for how bitter he sounded.

Kate shook her head and sighed. “I don’t want to talk about Tom right now. I want you to get in bed with me.”

Anthony looked at Kate’s elevated leg and the side of her torso he knew the broken ribs were. “Baby, you know I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can. Come on the other side. Please, Anthony. I want you close to me. Wouldn’t you rather that than the cot?”

“Of course, but–”

“Come here.”

Kate widened her already impossibly large eyes and Anthony was a goner.

He moved to the other side of the bed and took a lot of time carefully helping Kate make room for him. He climbed into the bed slowly before finding a position to settle into. He knew it wasn’t going to be a particularly comfortable night of sleep, but it’s what Kate wanted, so there was no question that he’d give it to her.

“You brought the blanket.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.” She was blinking slowly.

“Good night, Kate.”

And she was already asleep.

7 notes · View notes

fizzyxcustard · 2 years

Text

Betrayal (12)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Crossover of Spooks and Pilgrimage (Modern AU)

Pairings: Lucas North x OC/Raymond de Merville x OC

Warnings: Love triangle. Angst. Language. Sexual references/language. Cheating. Stalking.

Summary: Amy Holland is Lucas North’s girlfriend of six months. Amy is aware of his job as an MI-5 agent and supports him. However, Lucas’ cousin, Raymond de Merville, has always loved Amy and uses their one night stand together as leverage for something more.

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in. I’m gradually removing people from my tag lists who do not interact.

I also want to thank everyone who has stuck with me so far through this fic. I know it's probably very different from my normal kind of work and it's not everyone's cup of tea, but your encouragement and support has been amazing, those of you who have shared in this writing journey with me. Again, thank you.

Amy felt in her gut that she was safe to trust Raymond. If he loved her as much as he said he did, the last thing he would ever do was lead her astray and down a road towards destruction. "Tell me what's going on with Lucas," she pleaded.

"Aim, I promised him that I wouldn't break his confidence. I'm just terrified now of the consequences that it's all going to have and how that will affect you. But just know that his secrets have come back to bite him in the arse."

"Ray, please..."

"I hate being called Ray," he snapped. "I'm sorry. You started calling it me just after Lucas did and I can't stand it."

"I'm sorry," Amy sighed.

The heavy bustle of customers meant that Amy and Raymond's conversation, for the most part, was quiet. Other customers went about eating their meals, drinking, and conversing with each other. Considering it was a Monday night, a 'school night', the pub was still fairly busy.

"Raymond, please?"

"No, Aim. I won't break his trust. If he's going to hang, then let him to it to himself. I'm so glad you're away from London now. You're out of the way of him."

Amy took a huge breath and felt that shame wash over her again. She was the one who had cheated, betrayed her boyfriend, lied. Lucas had never, as far as she knew, been unfaithful. And Raymond had remained true to his promise to Lucas for keeping hold of his secret.

"I've treated you unfairly, and I'm sorry," Amy said. "When Lucas found out about us, I blamed you for everything, and it wasn't you. It was me. I was the one who knowingly cheated. I'm just so sorry for that."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, love," Raymond replied. "I did have my part to play in it all, let's be fair. I knew you and Lucas were together. But I can't bring myself to say that I'm sorry for what happened between us, because I'm not." Raymond shifted that little bit closer to Amy and lifted his hand, brushing his fingertips down her cheek. "I'll never be sorry for loving you. It's the best part of me. But I know you'll always be ashamed of yourself for sleeping with me."

"I'm not ashamed of sleeping with you. It was the fact I was with Lucas when I did it. You were right when you said there's something between us. There always has been, I know that. What I feel for you isn't something I'd ever regret; the only regret I have is that it broke Lucas' heart."

"Let me keep you safe. I think time is running out for Lucas now, and if the only thing I can do is make sure you're not dragged into the crossfire then I'll do it."

***

Raymond dropped Amy off at her parents' house that night. They both sat side by side, in the dark of the evening. "I'll be here until Thursday. Anything you need, just call me. "

Amy looked at him and could feel that magnetism beginning to build again. She needed to touch him in some way, taste him. She whispered his name and then leaned across, pressing her lips to his. Within a millisecond, he was responding. His hands were cupping her cheeks, his tongue was against hers. The heat, the electricity, the need and want was building.

Amy pulled herself away, her breathing elevated. Raymond's eyes were still on her.

"I don't want to leave you on your own," Raymond said between hitched breaths. "You're not safe around Lucas."

"I'm with my family. I have plenty of people..."

"Lucas is a spy, Aim. Don't forget that. He has his ways of means of making things look like accidents."

"W...what? Are you talking about him killing someone?"

"No, but if he needed to get to you, he'd find a way."

***

Vaughan's words were resounding around Lucas' head. This man knew the truth, the truth to Lucas' past. The only other man who knew was Raymond.

Lucas sat in his flat, staring at his phone which was on the coffee table. He needed to protect Amy from all of this, take her away and start over. He could give Vaughan what he wanted, the Albany file, and then disappear. Make up a new name, live as someone else. It wasn't so hard as he'd done it before.

Lucas' phone rang as he approached Thames House. "You have two more days, John. We've spoke about this on many occasions. Get that file and I won't hurt that pretty girlfriend of yours. I know she's in Coventry; apparently been seen in the company of your cousin, Raymond."

"Fuck you!" Lucas hissed. "Fuck you, you bastard. I'll get you that file, and then I'm coming for you!"

"No need for all this hostility, John. Get me the file and wire me the money, and we're even. Our last deal, you can trust me on that."

***

Amy was at work on her lunch break when she looked down at her phone, seeing that a voicemail had been left from Lucas. He sounded out of breath, angry, and verging on hysterical. "Amy, I need to come and get you. You're not safe. I'm coming to Coventry to get you."

Her heart began to race in her chest and heat rose up in her cheeks. Her first immediate thought was Raymond, who was still in Coventry for a further day. She dialled through to him, and within three rings he answered. "Raymond, it's starting," she said, her anxiety growing. "Lucas has left me a voicemail telling me he's coming to get me. He sounded hysterical."

"Don't respond to him. Make up an excuse with work and I'll come and get you. I'll be there in about fifteen minutes. Make sure that you stay near the security blokes at the front desk. Don't stray from view."

Amy made up a story that her father had been rushed into hospital and was excused from the rest of her day's work. Raymond appeared at the front entrance to the building not long after she had dashed from her desk.

By the time they had both got back to Raymond's hotel room, Amy was verging on tears. "Please, Raymond, tell me what's happening."

Raymond sighed and sat down beside Amy on the bed. "All I know at this point is someone from Lucas' past, who has quite a track record of illegal and dangerous activities, is blackmailing him into getting something from Thames House. That was all he told me."

"Why would he tell you that? I didn't think you two were on speaking terms anymore."

"I know a lot of Lucas' history and maybe he felt I was the only one he could trust. I won't say any more and break his trust on this."

Amy took Raymond's hand in hers. "Why are you protecting him?"

"He's my cousin, and I don't break promises."

***

Three more voicemails came through to Amy's phone from Lucas. Each one was asking where she was and begging her to answer his messages and calls.

Suddenly an unknown number began to call.

"Don't answer it," Raymond instructed.

Then the voicemail icon appeared.

Amy took a huge inhale and opened her voicemail, letting the message start. A man's voice swept down the line to her ear, a calm and quite monotone voice. "Amy Holland. You need to be aware that the man you think is Lucas North, isn't. The man you have been seeing for this last six months isn't who you think he is. His real name is John Bateman."

Tears dripped down Amy's cheeks and she dropped the phone on the bed. "I'm assuming this was the man who has been contacting Lucas...or whoever the fuck he is."

"What did he say?" Raymond asked, his stare intense on Amy.

"That Lucas isn't Lucas. You knew this, didn't you? This is what you've been keeping secret for him?"

"Yes." Raymond's reply with low, almost a whisper.

"But, why? Why would you keep that secret?"

"John and I were close as kids. I was like the older brother he never had. Our mums were sisters and we practically grew up together. I couldn't turn my back on him, no matter what had happened."

Amy remained silent for a few minutes, trying to comprehend all of what she was hearing. "All of it was a lie. Everything," she whispered.

"Not his relationship with you. He loves you, Amy. He never lied about that."

"Are you really Raymond?" Amy asked, feeling quite stupid. "I don't know what is real and what isn't."

"Yes, I'm me," Raymond replied with a very slight smile. "Served two tours of Afghanistan, dismissed on medical grounds. Born and raised in Nottingham; only child. You can trust me. I would never lie to you."

"I didn't know you were originally from Nottingham," Amy said, trying to temporarily push away this feeling of complete insanity that seemed to be crushing down on her.

"Yeah, lived there until I was about eight, and then moved to just outside London. My parents had split, and my mum wanted to be closer to her sister and that was how John and I became close."

"What do we do now?" Amy asked, the reality bearing down on her. "This man who is involved with Lucas has my phone number and surely he knows more."

"Stay with me, Aim. I'll keep you safe."

***

Follow Forever tag list: @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @luna-xial @middleearthpixie @meganlpie @knitastically @asgardianhobbit98 @eunoiaastralwings @linasofia @guardianofrivendell @xxbyimm @spidergirla5 @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @sunflwrnsunnieshine

#Raymond de Merville #Modern Raymond de Merville #Pilgrimage #Crossover #Lucas North #Spooks #OC x Raymond de Merville #OC x Lucas North #MI-5

57 notes · View notes