spanna
The Fly
Stateless
Ok this is my first fanfic here . I'm aware there are two other awesome Bono stories up and running so I don't know if I'm screwing up fanfic forum etiquette? not to mention possible rules but please tell me if I am with either of those things
. Oh and it says Dark and disturbing themes in the title which I can't get rid of now, there will be but I realise it's misleading with the gentle first chapter 
.
One other thing I'm in awe of all the stories round here so thanks ladies for keeping me entertained for hours. Not trying to suck up honestly 
Feedback appreciated
Stateless
There are no colours in your eye
There's no sunshine in your sky
There's no race, only the prize
There is no tomorrow, only tonight
Chapter One
Note: Grace’s thoughts are in the normal font and Bono’s are italicised.
Friday 1st October 2001, late afternoon
I trudge home, along Killiney Bay in the gathering dusk, my heeled ankle boots dig into the pebbles and I struggle to maintain a dignified walk. It’s too cold and painful to walk along in bare feet though I am sorely tempted more than once to throw my boots into the sea. It crunches under my feet and I nearly lose my footing.
She’s making her way along the beach, her elegant and petite figure is clothed in a white blouse and her smart black trousers that she spent hours choosing a few days ago.
The October gale whips the front locks of my hair across my face, never minding the fact that most of it is still firmly in my work ponytail, strands cover my forehead and lash at my face.
The dogs and I wait at the gate onto the beach from the garden. We’re ready to surprise our mistress when she turns the corner but meanwhile I love watching her like this, completely unaware and unconscious of our presence or anyone else’s.
I breathe in the intense salty smell of the sea, refreshing and rejuvenating me from the long day I’d spent working in the city. Look out at the swollen surf and waves that lap at the shore. It fills me with a calmness and tranquillity and the strong breeze blows off all the day’s difficulties. Hum happily, life right now couldn’t be better.
I can hear her hum softly, and watch as she struggles with some of her hair that has broken free of their bonds. Feck! Oscar, our Irish wolfhound pup has smelt Grace and run to greet her. So much for surprising my lover, fucking dog.
I look from the sea up the beach when I hear a bark and see Oscar my dog running towards me. I sigh, wondering how he’s escaped.
I start to run to catch up and to stop him from destroying Grace’s work outfit but I slow to a walk, knowing that though she might moan about the destruction of her clothes that she will be happy at this primeval welcome.
Oscar is soon in my arms, slobbering and drooling all over my work clothes. I cuddle him, he’s only a year old but wolfhounds have such droopy, placid faces that they always look much older. He was my moving in present from Bono when I came to live with him from my native Edinburgh just over six months ago.
Bessie is a golden retriever of ample proportions who Bono’s had for about ten years is on Oscar’s tail. She’s referred to the big mama and is by all accounts his mother substitute.
None of my exes ever got on with Bessie like my Grace. I knew she was special when Bessie climbed onto her lap when I first had her to dinner. She snarled and tried to attack every other girl I brought home since Helena.
I watch Bono as he trudges along the shore. His thick, tan coloured sheepskin coat envelops him, accentuating his broad figure and helping to disguise his internationally known person. I watch his short, sturdy legs clad in blue jeans, stride towards me. His arms swing at his sides, slapping his thighs with the dog leads. It’s not an elegant walk and yet lovable because it is so uniquely his own.
Oscar eventually leaves Grace alone and I am free to embrace her. She rises, her smile illuminating her heart shaped face and giggling as she wipes down her shirt and trousers. I reach out for her, needing to hold her close to me.
Bono takes me in his arms. Electric volts run and down my body, the type that you read about in every chick lit novel. He holds me tight, pressing his torso against mine, taking my face in his wide hands and kisses me yearningly, I respond with desire of my own.
‘Love, what say we get back home and get you a new change of clothes’ he says, our kiss ending and he looks for my hand ‘A bath for milady perhaps?'.
As I clasp her hand tightly, I don't realise that I will desperately hold onto the memory of her smiling face, the smell of her damp hair and the softness of her hand in mine.
I answer by giving him my hand and calling the dogs, we set off. I don't know that I will cling to this experience with him beside me, talking and joking. That it will become a memory of a happier, dream time very soon.
We put the dogs in their room and I make a grab for her.
‘Oi!’ I squeal and skip away.
‘Right, yer little…’ I leave the sentence hanging and catch her around the waist, my hands resting on her belly.
‘Bastard!’ I cry but allow him to skilfully turn me around facing him. That face so close to mine, I take in each minute detail of his features by tracing my fingers around him.
The softly lined, big forehead, creamy coloured skin with a soft tinge of pink.
Those eyes looking deeply into my own with that extraordinary shade of electric blue. The softness of skin under them.
The few freckles placed oddly under his left eye.
The nose, straight and a little too big but nonetheless his most regal and striking feature, I trace my finger along the bridge.
Down to just above his upper lip. Drawing my index finger along his faint stubble.
My thumb touching his mouth that is creased into a wide amused smile.
I press my own to his, tasting those lips for a minute. And then skip away under the pretence of running a bath.
Later that night
I pretend to sleep, Bono’s arms wrapped tightly around me, basking in the warmth that always seems to fill me up after Bono and I have made love. His light kisses tickle my neck and I resist the urge to laugh, wanting if possible to remain in this heavenly nest perhaps forever. I inhale his heady aroma of Bvlgari for men and that added scent of his that I can never quite put my finger on. I try not to shiver as he sings into my hair, soft and low.
“You look so beautiful…so beautiful” I open my eyes as I feel his face hover over mine and breathe out, blissfully contented.
I watch her sleeping, my bare arms encircling her upper body and the soft thud of her heartbeat pulsating against my hand soothes me. I part her hair from the nape of her neck and drop feather light kisses on the skin there and hold her tighter, an irrational fear of losing her and her sweet innocence gripping me.
Ok this is my first fanfic here . I'm aware there are two other awesome Bono stories up and running so I don't know if I'm screwing up fanfic forum etiquette? not to mention possible rules but please tell me if I am with either of those things
. Oh and it says Dark and disturbing themes in the title which I can't get rid of now, there will be but I realise it's misleading with the gentle first chapter . One other thing I'm in awe of all the stories round here so thanks ladies for keeping me entertained for hours
. Not trying to suck up honestly Feedback appreciated Stateless
There are no colours in your eye
There's no sunshine in your sky
There's no race, only the prize
There is no tomorrow, only tonight
Chapter One
Note: Grace’s thoughts are in the normal font and Bono’s are italicised.
Friday 1st October 2001, late afternoon
I trudge home, along Killiney Bay in the gathering dusk, my heeled ankle boots dig into the pebbles and I struggle to maintain a dignified walk. It’s too cold and painful to walk along in bare feet though I am sorely tempted more than once to throw my boots into the sea. It crunches under my feet and I nearly lose my footing.
She’s making her way along the beach, her elegant and petite figure is clothed in a white blouse and her smart black trousers that she spent hours choosing a few days ago.
The October gale whips the front locks of my hair across my face, never minding the fact that most of it is still firmly in my work ponytail, strands cover my forehead and lash at my face.
The dogs and I wait at the gate onto the beach from the garden. We’re ready to surprise our mistress when she turns the corner but meanwhile I love watching her like this, completely unaware and unconscious of our presence or anyone else’s.
I breathe in the intense salty smell of the sea, refreshing and rejuvenating me from the long day I’d spent working in the city. Look out at the swollen surf and waves that lap at the shore. It fills me with a calmness and tranquillity and the strong breeze blows off all the day’s difficulties. Hum happily, life right now couldn’t be better.
I can hear her hum softly, and watch as she struggles with some of her hair that has broken free of their bonds. Feck! Oscar, our Irish wolfhound pup has smelt Grace and run to greet her. So much for surprising my lover, fucking dog.
I look from the sea up the beach when I hear a bark and see Oscar my dog running towards me. I sigh, wondering how he’s escaped.
I start to run to catch up and to stop him from destroying Grace’s work outfit but I slow to a walk, knowing that though she might moan about the destruction of her clothes that she will be happy at this primeval welcome.
Oscar is soon in my arms, slobbering and drooling all over my work clothes. I cuddle him, he’s only a year old but wolfhounds have such droopy, placid faces that they always look much older. He was my moving in present from Bono when I came to live with him from my native Edinburgh just over six months ago.
Bessie is a golden retriever of ample proportions who Bono’s had for about ten years is on Oscar’s tail. She’s referred to the big mama and is by all accounts his mother substitute.
None of my exes ever got on with Bessie like my Grace. I knew she was special when Bessie climbed onto her lap when I first had her to dinner. She snarled and tried to attack every other girl I brought home since Helena.
I watch Bono as he trudges along the shore. His thick, tan coloured sheepskin coat envelops him, accentuating his broad figure and helping to disguise his internationally known person. I watch his short, sturdy legs clad in blue jeans, stride towards me. His arms swing at his sides, slapping his thighs with the dog leads. It’s not an elegant walk and yet lovable because it is so uniquely his own.
Oscar eventually leaves Grace alone and I am free to embrace her. She rises, her smile illuminating her heart shaped face and giggling as she wipes down her shirt and trousers. I reach out for her, needing to hold her close to me.
Bono takes me in his arms. Electric volts run and down my body, the type that you read about in every chick lit novel. He holds me tight, pressing his torso against mine, taking my face in his wide hands and kisses me yearningly, I respond with desire of my own.
‘Love, what say we get back home and get you a new change of clothes’ he says, our kiss ending and he looks for my hand ‘A bath for milady perhaps?'.
As I clasp her hand tightly, I don't realise that I will desperately hold onto the memory of her smiling face, the smell of her damp hair and the softness of her hand in mine.
I answer by giving him my hand and calling the dogs, we set off. I don't know that I will cling to this experience with him beside me, talking and joking. That it will become a memory of a happier, dream time very soon.
We put the dogs in their room and I make a grab for her.
‘Oi!’ I squeal and skip away.
‘Right, yer little…’ I leave the sentence hanging and catch her around the waist, my hands resting on her belly.
‘Bastard!’ I cry but allow him to skilfully turn me around facing him. That face so close to mine, I take in each minute detail of his features by tracing my fingers around him.
The softly lined, big forehead, creamy coloured skin with a soft tinge of pink.
Those eyes looking deeply into my own with that extraordinary shade of electric blue. The softness of skin under them.
The few freckles placed oddly under his left eye.
The nose, straight and a little too big but nonetheless his most regal and striking feature, I trace my finger along the bridge.
Down to just above his upper lip. Drawing my index finger along his faint stubble.
My thumb touching his mouth that is creased into a wide amused smile.
I press my own to his, tasting those lips for a minute. And then skip away under the pretence of running a bath.
Later that night
I pretend to sleep, Bono’s arms wrapped tightly around me, basking in the warmth that always seems to fill me up after Bono and I have made love. His light kisses tickle my neck and I resist the urge to laugh, wanting if possible to remain in this heavenly nest perhaps forever. I inhale his heady aroma of Bvlgari for men and that added scent of his that I can never quite put my finger on. I try not to shiver as he sings into my hair, soft and low.
“You look so beautiful…so beautiful” I open my eyes as I feel his face hover over mine and breathe out, blissfully contented.
I watch her sleeping, my bare arms encircling her upper body and the soft thud of her heartbeat pulsating against my hand soothes me. I part her hair from the nape of her neck and drop feather light kisses on the skin there and hold her tighter, an irrational fear of losing her and her sweet innocence gripping me.
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Perfectly written. I like the way you switch from one to the other to narrate the story. It's easy flowing and has an interesting beginning.
) 
absolutely agree with all that stuff about feedback. I have a little forum for some of us zootopian gals who love the lads (we're known as the sloots LOL) and I've shared some of my fanfic with them and their comments are always invaluable! As are all yours who have responded so far 
...was hooked from that day on all fanfiction involving Bono so it's all your fault 
SPANNZINA!
