#and the few times anyone has paid a lick of attention to my fics was when i mentioned wanting to write smut into them

[zo1nkss]

ofmdtwt is exhausting I'm glad I'm staying out of everything going on over there

[xobrattymoonxo]

Game Night 

Yan!Ushijima x Fem!Reader 

TW: NONCON, spanking, daddy kink, restraints, kidnaping, non consensual drugging, dacryphillia, fingering, Cumming inside, breeding kink,  mentions of pregnancy, ass play, possessive talk, yandere, fem reader

An: My first Dark fic! If you like it please reblog/ comment/ like or even leave an ask if you feel comfortable!

Word count: 2.4k

Second person Pov

“I am so excited to watch this game! Kageyama is so hot I can’t wait to see him in action.” Mai said as she held on your arm. 

“Mai please calm down!” You said with a laugh. 

“Have you gotten a chance to see who all plays on the team Yn?” 

“No, I’ve been so busy with school lately.” Mai made a pouty face at you as you heard people start screaming. 

“OH IT’S STARTING!” Mai screamed in my ear. 

I looked out on the court as the two teams came out to warm up before the game. 

“Ushijima?” I said just above a whisper. 

“Oooh I figured you would be a Ushijima fan Y/n. He seems like your type.” 

“I think I went to highschool with him, Mai.” 

“Wait you went to THE Shiratorizawa?!?! You knew Ushijima in person?!?! How come you never told me?” 

“It’s just a school and he is just a guy.” You said casually. Mai believed your lie. Ushijima wasn’t just a guy. He was the guy who asked you out, the guy you turned down, and the guy who made your highschool life terrible. It wasn’t his fault really, he had quite a few girls crushing on him. Your rejection to him just fed the fire for them to target you. 

Your thoughts were cut short when the whistle sounded for the game to start. 

The game was underway with the Schweiden Adlers in the lead. Your friend was still screaming super loud for Kageyama in your ear. He was too focused on the game to even look your way, but it did catch Ushijima’s attention. He looked up only to instantly lock eyes with you. He stared for a few seconds before he turned away and resumed the game. You could feel your heartbeat pick up. 

You tried to remain calm for the rest of the game. The Adlers won! 

“YAY KAGEYAMA I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT!” Mai screamed. Finally Kageyama looked up to the stands with Ushijima beside him. Ushijima looked up as Kageyama just turned away. You could see Ushijima say something to Kageyama as he turned back to look at the two of you. Kageyama noticeably sighed as they walked over to the rest of their team. 

You grab your friend's arm seeing Ushijima look up once again to where you were standing. 

“Can we leave now? I am hungry.” You lied. 

“Okay, as long as I can pick where!” She said to you as you began to leave. 

“Are you taking me to the Adlers restaurant.” You asked. 

“They don’t have a restaurant unfortunately.” She said with a pout. 

The two got into her car as she drove down the road. 

“Okay this is it!” She said excitedly. You looked and noticed all the sports fans outside.

“Is this where the Adlers eat, Mai?” She laughed awkwardly as you already knew the answer. "I'm sorry I just wanted to see Kageyama again!" You sighed as you told her it was fine and headed inside. 

The two of you requested a seat at the car as she heard some girls begin to fangirl .

"Looks like we found them after all." You said to her as she watched over by the door. You paid no mind to what was happening behind you but Ushijima laid eyes on you as soon as you were in his line of sight. 

You didn't notice him getting closer till the stool beside you was pulled out. 

"Hello Y/n. It's been a while, hasn't it?" Ushijima spoke. You turned to face him.

"Hello Ushijima. It has been, yes. About a year or two." You said casually. 

"Let me buy you a drink as we catch up." He said. 

"Sorry I am here with my friend." 

"She seems busy." He replied nodding beside you. You glanced back and noticed Kageyama now beside her talking with her. You turned back to Ushijima. "So will you let me buy you a drink?" 

You agreed as he began to ask you questions about your current life. After a short while you tapped your friend's arm and headed to the bathroom. 

"Mai we have to go. He's driving me crazy." You said. "He keeps asking me all these personal questions and stuff and I think he's onto my lies!" 

"Y/n you're just being dramatic! He's just getting to know an old peer. He must be Kageyama's Wing man! Let me have this please?” She begs. 

“Okay fine. We should head back out.” 

What the two didn’t know was Ushijima and Kageyema had slipped something extra in both of your drinks. 

“The plan is just to take her home and then leave right?” Kageyama asked as he swirled your friend's drink. “How are you getting Y/n out of here though?” 

“Yes and I paid the bartender a couple hundreds to slip her out the back for me.” 

“Smart, no press involvement that way.” Kageyama said. 

The two then noticed you and Mai entering back into the main area. You sat back down in your seats as you both quickly downed your drinks as something you agreed upon in the bathroom. 

Sometime passed as you began to feel sick. Barely able to keep yourself up, Ushijima offered to call you a cab after asking your address. Mai was the same way but Kageyama insisted on driving her home instead. 

Your mind started to go hazy, darkness almost consuming your vision as you laid down in the back of a car…

You awoke sometime later with a pain in your head. Eyes still blurry you went to move your arms to rub your eyes. Panic set in as you noticed your arms were raised above your head. You began to pull them harder not being able to see what had your arms restraint. 

“You won’t be able to get those handcuffs undone. You need a key for that.” You whipped your head where the voice came from. 

“Ushijima!” You yelled out. “What’s going on? Why am I here?” You began to panic. He walked over to you now bending down to move some hair from your face. 

“I waited so long to see you again Y/n. I’ve been looking for you since highschool. I love you and you ran from me.” 

“Ushijima please just let me go! I won’t tell anyone!” You cried out. 

“I have waited a long time for this.” He smiled down at you as tears began to form in your eyes. “If I undo these, will you be good?” He asked as he pulled on your cuffs. You nodded your head at him as he pulled out the key to unlock them. You instantly pulled your wrists down only to notice you were not wearing anything but your underpants. 

“Where are my clothes?” Ushijima climbed on top of you now as he leaned down and kissed your neck. 

“You don’t need them anymore.” He whispered before he started sucking on your neck. 

“Ushijima please stop.” You were now crying but he continued anyways. He lifted your shoulders up as he reached behind to undo your bra. He pulled it off the front slowly as he sat up. Admiring your breasts as they were now on display for him. He moved both hands on your breasts as he began to massage them. 

“They feel so amazing under my hands. You were made for me Y/n.” 

“Please.” You whispered. 

“Begging for me already?” He said as he moved off the top of you. He now pulled down your underpants as you moved your hands to cover your pussy. 

“Don’t.” He growled as he pulled your arms out of the way. 

“Ushijima.” He shushed you as he looked down at you with lustful eyes. 

“That’s Daddy to you Y/n.” he said in his low growl again. He moved his one hand to your pussy as he began to rub your clit. The other hand went back up to your breast. Not being able to hold in your moans anymore, you began to cry out. “You like that huh? I have dreamed of this moment for a long time Y/n.” He moved off the bed and picked you up. He laid himself down still holding onto you as he led you to come sit on his face. 

You tried to pull back as he gripped your hips roughly pulling you down to meet his face. He began to slowly lick up your pussy. 

“USHIJIMA!” You screamed. He slapped your clit as he growled. 

“What’s my name?” 

“Daddy.” You moaned out. He smirked into your pussy and he slipped a digit inside you. He started to curl it slowly inside. You whipped your head back as you tried to push away from him. He took your resistance as pleasure and slipped another finger inside. He started to move them quickly as he still sucked on your clit. You felt yourself start to shake as your orgasm grew closer. You grabbed on the headboard and tried to lift yourself from him. He slammed a third finger in as you shouted out. You came all over his chin. 

“Fuck baby, that was so hot.” He licked his lips savoring every last bit of your juices he could.

When he pulled his digits out you managed to wiggle away from his grip enough to be able to get up. You fell to the floor, quickly getting up you headed straight for the door in the room. You pulled on the handle only to notice it was locked. You began to pound your fists on the door as you screamed out for help. 

“We are in the basement of my house. No one will hear you down here.” He said as he now stood behind you. You turned and took a swing at him only for your wrist to be caught midair. "You should have just said you wanted it rough Y/n." He said with a sly smirk looking down at you. 

Before you knew it you were tossed onto the bed on your stomach and a pair of handcuffs were cuffing your hands behind your back. He sat down on the bed pulling you onto his lap. 

"After every hit count and say thank you." Without any warning he slammed his hand down at full power onto your ass cheek. You screamed out in pain as you began to wiggle on his lap. “I said count. You just got 10 more added. You better be ready to count to 20.” Before you could respond his hand came down to the opposite cheek. 

“ONE THa-thank you.” You were crying harder than before. Ushijima slammed his hand down again on the other cheek again. 

“Tw-two,” You hiccuped. “Thank yo-you.” 

He continued to use his full spike strength on your ass cheeks as you finally made it to twenty. 

“You did so well. Now why don’t we get you a reward?” He asked rhetorically of course. He picked you up and tossed you once again on the bed rolling you over so you were looking at him. “Look how pretty you are when you cry baby.” He said as he licked your salty tears streams off your face.

He lined his tip up with your entrance as he kissed you with all his power. He pulled away from the kiss as soon as he pushed fully inside you. He kissed down your jaw to your neck as he stayed still and bit down hard on your neck. He caused a small amount of blood to come out from the fresh bite. You were exhausted from the previous events so you no longer had energy to fight him back with anything but moans.

“I knew you would enjoy this Y/n.” He said licking up the small amount of blood that was on your neck. He began to pound in you at a feral pace no longer waiting for you to adjust to his size. 

“Fuck you are so tight. Just like I always imagined.” He said into your neck. He moved down slightly to your breasts as he bit down again. “You look so hot covered in my bite marks Y/n. I wish we could stay like this forever.” You could feel him bruising your cervix as you cried out from all his harsh thrusts. With every thrust you felt yourself being stretched more and more. He took his one hand and pressed it roughly on your stomach looking at the bulge he was creating inside your stomach. 

“Fuck baby, I’m so big I could rip you in half.” 

“Daddy! I’m close! Please!” You said between moans. 

“Beg or I won’t let you cum.” 

“Please daddy! I’m sorry I was a brat. Let me cum please please! I need it! I need you! Please!” You whined out.

“Fuck baby cum on my cock.” He demanded. You came undone all over his cock but as soon as he felt your pussy grip on him tighter he moaned out, “Fuck I am going to cum inside you Y/n. I will keep doing it over and over again till you get pregnant with my child. Then you won’t be able to leave me ever.”

“Please not inside! Anywhere but inside! I don’t want a baby! I don’t want your baby please! Not inside!” You cried as he grabbed your hips tightly. You felt his hot cum squirt up inside as he collapsed on top of you. 

“Fuck you’re so perfect. Our kids will be just as perfect as you I bet.” He said before he flipped you over. He shoved your face into the mattress as he raised your ass up getting on his knees. 

“What are you doing?” You cried out trying to pull away from his rough hands on your hips.

“I didn’t say we were done, did I? I have to make up for lost time, besides, you have a perfectly good unused hole right here I need to try out too.” You felt him lick your asshole as you begged him not too. “You’re my property Y/n. I will do whatever I want with you cause I own you and I will never let you go.” He said as he shoved his thumb into your puckered hole as his cock lined up with your entrance again. 

“I will pound into you from both ends until the only thing you know how to say is my name, baby.” 

Masterlist 

[jimlingss]

I love you. I love your work. That's it. I'm binge reading your fics. But I really had this dream that taehyung was trying to seduce me at work and I refused to give in because I'm professional. I went home and cried for rejecting him. Please write a fic about this for me. Why do I never get the guy even my dreams 😭 I'm a loser.

LMAO this is hilarious. I actually had a dream similarly like this too. I’ve always wanted to go to a fortune teller but the me in my dream was also a cheapskate and ended up not going ahahhaa so I feel you, anon. Hopefully this drabble can grant your dreams.

↳ The Office Trip to Pound Town

2.5k || 70% Smut, 30% Fluff || Kim Taehyung

You’re neck deep in work.

Your hands flurry across the keyboard before you’re saving the document and grabbing your pen to look over the Jeon’s contract that needs to be prepared by tomorrow. There’s barely a moment to breathe, much less look up when there’s a quiet knock at the door and it opens.

“Go ahead with lunch, Wendy. I’ll eat after I finish this.”

“She already left,” a deeper, huskier voice says and your eyes finally flicker up.

Taehyung enters, shutting the door behind him. He’s without his blazer, simply in a white dress shirt tucked into his slacks that you remember you picked out for him a few months ago. His blonde hair is styled so half of it is pushed back to reveal his arched brow and the other half falls in front of his forehead to frame his face. It should be illegal to look this good, but you’re not complaining. It’s always nice to have eye candy around the office. It cures your fatigue. 

You smile at him, putting your pen down. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d visit. We’re supposed to be on our lunch break, you know. But of course, you’re always hard at work.”

“How else are the bills going to be paid? Unlike someone, I can’t just dilly-dally.”

Taehyung grins and comes behind you. You learn forward in your office chair, already knowing what he’s about to do. And the moment, Taehyung’s hands lay on your shoulders, a sigh escapes your parted lips. His thumbs dig into a particularly sore muscle, but he massages it out within seconds. You hate how easy it is to melt into his touch. 

“Hey, I work hard too.”

You hum. “Not hard enough. I’m coming for your job, Kim. I’m going to get promoted to director of the department and you’ll get demoted to just being the manager.”

Taehyung scoffs. “I’d like to see you try, Mrs. Kim.” 

He digs harder into another sore spot and you jolt with a pained moan. You pull away from him and turn your head around. “Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

Suddenly, he licks his lips and your eyes flicker to the movement. Taehyung’s voice drops an octave — it’s never good when that happens since he knows what that does to you. “Do you know what today is?”

Your eyes are rounded. You quickly scour your mind, but come up empty. “What is it?”

He sighs and starts to roll up his sleeves to his elbows, showing all forearms and the popped veins spiraling up his arms. “I’m disappointed,” Taehyung says in a husky tone. “But then again, I’ve always been the one to pay attention to the details. It’s the first day of your fertile window.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The two of you stare at one another. 

He stares at you. You stare at him.

“No. Taehyung, no.”

His mouth starts to twitch and it slowly quirks into a smile. “Come on.”

“It’s unprofessional!”

God fucking dammit. He’s giving you bedroom eyes. And it hits you that the top button of his dress shirt is popped open. Oh god. He came in here just to seduce you, didn’t he?!

“Don’t you want this baby?”

“Yeah, but last time I checked, we have a perfectly good bed at home. King size actually, thanks to someone’s instance.”

“I’m working a late night tonight.” Taehyung comes closer, crowding you with his larger frame and you move back until the office chair can’t even wobble and your side is trapped at your desk. “We can’t waste any more time.”

“Taehyung,” you say his name in a scolding voice, but it’s already weakening by the second. He knows it too.

“You’re not going to make me beg for you, right?” he asks, caging you in with his arms. One of his hands curls around the chair’s armrest and the other is gripping the edge of your desk. “Unless you want me to.” 

You swallow hard, resolve crumbling. It’s not like you don’t want to….

You look over his shoulder towards the door that’s shut and the blinds that have long been pulled since your online conference a few hours prior. A beat later, your attention is directed to him and his sly smirk. 

Taehyung whispers, “Please?”

With a sigh, you close the distance and you feel Taehyung’s massive grin as he kisses you. He leans down as your mouths are still connected and you fall back into the office chair. Taehyung looms over your frame and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. 

His hot tongue licks into your mouth, eager and impatient. At the same time, his hands cup your jaw and he coaxes a whimper from you that’s muffled at his lips. 

You’re supposed to be the strict, no-nonsense manager on this floor overseeing the rest. It’s pathetic that you can be reduced to a school girl by your husband. Taehyung loves it and truthfully, you don’t mind so much, but if anyone else knew, they’d be shocked.

The pair of you pull away to gasp for breath. The strand of saliva between your mouths break. Your lips are swollen while his are stained with your red lipstick. 

“This is so unprofessional,” you whisper to him between pants.

Taehyung smiles sweetly, forehead pressed against yours. “A lot of people already left for their lunch break.”

“That doesn’t mean there aren't people on this floor and right outside the door.”

“That’s what makes it fun.”

“It won’t be fun if we lose our jobs.”

“Not if we get this done quickly.” He steps back and starts pulling at his belt. It clicks, unbuckling with ease and your core starts to heat in anticipation for what’s to come. Taehyung doesn’t miss the way you rub your thighs together. He smirks and then gestures to you. “As your superior, I command you to bend over.”

You scoff, but turn around anyhow to lean your front onto the desk. You wince when the papers underneath your hands start to crinkle, but it’s much too late to move them when he roughly shoves up your skirt.

“I could report you to HR for that,” you quip.

“You’d never,” he retorts with a thick voice.

He doesn’t move for a few seconds. You wonder why he hasn’t done anything, if there’s something wrong, but then it occurs to you what he’s eyeing your ass in. “Taehyung. I swear to god—”

The sound of ripping follows. 

The bastard’s torn into your black, sheer stockings.

You curse and turn your head around to glare right as he tears down your underwear. “It’s fine. No one will notice. Faster this way.” You suspect he just wants to fuck you while you’re still in stockings, bent over your own desk, but you don’t call him out on it. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Easy for you to say—” You yelp when your left heel is suddenly lifted off the floor. He props your bent leg on the desk and plops down into your leather office chair as if he owns it.

Before anything else can be said, Taehyung dives straight between your plump ass cheeks. He holds your hips in place, fingertips sunk into your skin as his tongue laps at your hole and he moves his face from side to side. A gasp breaks from your vocal cords and you bring one arm back to grab his hair.

“T-There’s no time, Taehyung.”

“It’s fine,” he murmurs, moving to suck a bruise into your right ass-cheek. Taehyung really gives another definition to kissing someone’s ass but rather than feeling like the superior one, you’re keening into him, crumbling at his touch. It’s turning you on how much this is turning him on, with the way he groans into your skin like he’s fully enjoying this, how he’s eager and happy to be on the giving end. 

Unintentionally, you push his face closer into your ass and his slender fingers begin to gently caress your slit. Your mouth seals to suppress another moan when his warm tongue licks at your hole again. You can feel the heat of his warm breath against your cunt, so close yet still so far. 

A minute later, he comes out panting. “Damn. This is better than any lunch.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s going to be your fault if you don’t get to finish.”

“Relax,” he sing-songs and you can practically hear his grin. “We’ll get there.”

Without much warning, Taehyung plunges his two fingers into your already wet cunt. You keen, failing to silence your whine and your back arches. You don’t see his smirk, how he’s fully enjoying the view while sitting back in the chair. He simply starts pumping his index and middle finger in and out of your heat. Taehyung stretches you out, curling his fingers at a particular spot that has you gripping the edge of your desk until your knuckles have turned white. You try your best not to make a sound, but it’s almost like he’s trying his best to get you to break and be noisy.

“Fuck,” he moans. “You’re leaking all over my pants.”

Even when he’s behind you, you can feel his intense gaze that’s watching you closely.

It feels degrading to be bent over your own desk like this. You’re practically dancing in the palm of Taehyung’s hand, giving into his every whim without being able to control yourself. But at the same time, all of this, the thought of him claiming your spot and taking you right here was turning you on. You don’t want to admit that you’re enjoying this as much as he is.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, cheek pressed to your paperwork. 

He chuckles lowly. “Alright, alright.”

He pulls his two fingers out of your sopping cunt and sucks on them till they're clean. Then Taehyung stands and lowers his pants just enough to remove his hard cock from his boxers. He pumps it twice and positions the red, leaking head to your swollen entrance.

You’re about to ask him what’s taking so long, but you choke on your words when he enters you with a single push of his hips. Your cunt stretches to accommodate Taehyung’s big cock that’s practically nudging at the entrance of your cervix. Your fingernails curl into the edge of your desk while you fail to stifle the whine that comes out, even when your teeth have sunk into the bottom of your lip.

“S-Sorry,” he groans. “Couldn’t help it. Don’t want to run out of time. Already at twelve forty.”

You turn your head around. “What?!” 

But there’s no opportunity to react more. Not when Taehyung grabs your hips, eagerly fucking into you. Like a man on a mission, like he’s making sure he’ll get you pregnant no matter what. He withdraws his cock and then plunges as deep as he can inside your tight cunt, his hips slamming against your ass. Taehyung bends your leg to get at an even deeper angle and you turn back around, trying your best to keep in your moans and quiet the whines of his name. 

The urgency of time presses on your minds, but it also fades with the onslaught of pleasure. All the papers underneath you are sure to be crumpled beyond belief, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. 

The pens and pencils fall over to the carpet. Your eyes sting. He’s filling you up so well.

“F-Fuck, this is so hot,” Taehyung groans, watching his cock disappear inside of you with each rapid jut of his hips. How you’re trying to still hold yourself together. The way your stockings have been torn and his underwear and yours are barely pushed away. “You’re so hot.”

“Hurry, Tae!”

He hums and you start to squeeze around him. Taehyung’s hips sputter. His pace falters before quickening urgently and impatiently. “W-Wait, wait.”

Taehyung licks his thumb and finds your clit with ease. You gasp as he rubs circles on the swollen bit and your toes curl. “Tae, Tae—” You’re afraid you’re being too loud, but the concern is overridden when you cum. There’s white flashing beneath your eyelids, a wash of pleasure that renders your knees weak.

Taehyung follows a few seconds later. He plunges in as deep as he can go with brute force and a pitched cry leaves your throat, making him slap his hand over your mouth to keep quiet. 

The picture frame of you and Taehyung in Malta on your honeymoon is knocked off. 

And then cum paints your velvet, warm walls. It fills your cunt, leaking past his cock. Taehyung pants on top of you and thrusts twice more in spite of your oversensitivity and his own. He holds you still for an intimate moment as you both catch your breaths. Then, he withdraws.

You shakingly get up as he tucks himself back in, buckling his belt again after he snags it off the ground. You try to fix the mess of your hair and he grins, cheeks flushed. Taehyung comes close and his thumb lifts to wipe the smudged mascara at the corner of your eye.

He can’t hold in his smile and giddily hugs you. His face affectionately nuzzles into your hair while you wonder if he knows that his cum is still leaking out of you and dripping down your thigh. 

Sometimes the duality of Taehyung is jarring. You wonder how this can be the same man who just bent you over your own desk and pounded into you until there were tears in your eyes. But you suppose that’s what makes him so charming and why you married him. One second, he’s throwing you over his shoulder and spanking you till you call him daddy and the next, he’s pouting and begging you to call his dad for him because he just stubbed his toe against the door and it hurts and he needs advice on what to do.

“Sorry about the ripped stockings.”

“Uh-huh. You better buy me new ones.”

“I will.”

The pair of you pull apart and he pulls a tissue for you to wipe yourself with as you sit down and peel off the stockings once and for all to throw into the trash. If someone asks, you’ll tell them it ripped on its own.

“Well, at least that was fun, right?” Taehyung smiles as you put yourself back together.

You eye him. “What time?”

“Pardon?”

“What time are you done with the meeting?”

Taehyung blinks, not sure where you’re going with this. “Probably at eight.”

“I’ll be at your office at eight ten then,” you state plainly. “It’s only fair. I can’t be the only one having my office destroyed.”

Slowly but surely, an enormous grin spreads into his face. Taehyung leans in to kiss your cheek. “It’s a promise then.”

[solarwonux]

Valentine’s Day Drabble #5 - First Time

college!wonwoo x f!reader

w.c: 2.7k

warnings: fluffy, first time sex, oral (female receiving), loss of virginity 

note: THANK YOU FOR 800 FOLLOWERS OMG HJBREFJKBERF

I hope you guys have been enjoying the valentine’s day drabbles. These are a lot of fun for me. Also it seems like I’m going to have to push Seungcheol’s fic back a few days. This week has been very stressful for me regarding my personal life and school, so I’ve had to put it on hold. Thank you for understanding. 

Anyway let me know your thoughts it would mean a lot to me. Thank you for reading. 

drabble game || masterlist 

The two of you were on Wonwoo’s bed. He was laying down between your legs, his head resting on your stomach as he read an article on his phone. You were running your fingers through his hair, focusing your attention on the movie that was playing on his tv.

“mhm, that feels good.” Wonwoo hummed making you smile. You turned to look at your boyfriend, who had closed his phone and was now looking at you. He smiled at you, gave your stomach a slight kiss and sat up.

“No come back.” You pouted extending your arms making him laugh shaking his head. He moved to your side and laid down next to you, resting one arm under his chin looking at you and the other around your waist.

“Remember that thing we talked about?”

“We talk about a lot of things Wonwoo, you’re going to have to be more specific.” You smiled reaching up to his face to rub the creases that had formed between his brows.

Wonwoo blushed and buried his face into your neck sighing. You giggled and wrapped your arms around his torso. “What is it?”

He mumbled incoherently against your skin. The feeling of his hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on to your skin. “I can’t understand you Woo.” You smiled playing with the hair on the back of his neck. You felt him shiver against you as he raised his head. He playfully glared at you and laid down next to you again. Both of his arms underneath his head as he intensely stared up at the ceiling.

You sat up and looked down at him curiously as he brought his bottom lip in between his teeth. Something he did whenever he was deeply thinking about something that was bothering him. You reached over and ran your thumb over his bottom lip, he grinned and pecked your thumb, before turning to face you again.

“The sex thing.” He whispered, his face turning a deep shade of red. You smiled down at him blushing. “Yeah, I remember.” You nodded.

Wonwoo grabbed your hand and tugged at your arm carefully, signaling you to get closer to him. You obligated his silent request and laid down again, this time resting your chin onto his chest.

“And…?” He looked down at you pouting faintly.

“And…are you ready?” You said caressing his chin with your thumb.

“Are you ready?” He smiled wrapping an arm around your body. You leaned up and kissed his lips softly, taking his bottom lip in between your lips. You smiled making him sigh, tightening his arm around your body bringing you closer to his body. “Mhm, I am.” You whispered while pulling away. “Good because I am too” He whispered and pulled you on top of him. You giggled against his lips, feeling his hands going to rest on your lower back as you straddled his hips. You rested your palms against his chest, closing your fists tightly taking his shirt between them.

Wonwoo and you had your fair share of make-out sessions but for some reason this felt different. The way the two of you were slightly moving against each other. How electric shock waves were being sent throughout your body as he tightened his hold on your hips. You pulled away panting and rested your forehead against his. Both of your chests rising to the same rhythm as the need between the two of you intensified.

“Can I take your shirt off?” You asked bringing grabbing the hem of his shirt. He nodded smirking, moving his hands down to rest on top of your thighs, rubbing soothing circles on the insides. You took his shirt rising it slowly before bringing it over his head taking it off completely and throwing it behind you.

You pecked his lips as your hands slowly ran down his torso, over the ridges of his abdomen reaching his belt buckle inching closer to your desired destination. “Wait,” Wonwoo said squeezing your thighs gently. You looked up at him raising your eyebrow vaguely. “Let me put on my glasses.” He reached over to his bedside table retrieving his glasses. He put them on and laid down again, smugly putting his arms underneath his head, signaling for you to continue.

You giggled taking his glasses from him making him pout in protest. You paid him no mind as you grabbed a corner of your shirt and cleaned his glasses. “They weren’t that dirty.” He leaned up kissing your cheek, his hands sneaking their way on your back and underneath your shirt. Shaking your head, you placed them on to his face again.

“I could see the dust particles and fingerprints on the lenses, they were extremely dirty love.” You pecked his lips giggling.

“Whatever.” Wonwoo rolled his eyes playfully. “Now that I can see can I take your shirt off.” You nodded wrapping your arms around his neck. “You don’t have to ask.” You kissed his nose.

“Sorry, my love I’m nervous.” He confessed bringing your shirt up over your head, throwing it to where you had previously thrown his shirt. He sucked in a breath at the sight of your almost bare torso. “Beautiful.” He mumbled lowly, and if you weren’t paying attention to him and all his actions you wouldn’t have been able to hear him. You hid your face in your hands as you felt your face heat up.

Wonwoo chuckled and removed your hands from your face, kissing each of your palms softly. “Don’t hide from me.” He whispered. “Okay” you answered nodding and rested your hands against your chest. He brought his trembling hands towards your back grabbing your bra clasp, watching as he struggled to get it off you. You giggled reaching over to help him. He hid his face into your neck embarrassed mumbling a few apologies before planting small kisses along your collar bone.

You let your bra straps fall down your arms, eventually letting it fall down completely as you wrapped your arms around his body. “It’s okay we all can’t know how to do everything.” You kissed his head and laid back down bringing him with you.

He wrapped your legs around his waist, grabbing your bra and throwing somewhere in his room. He leaned down kissing your cheek, then your neck making his way down to your breasts. He looked up at you before taking one of your breasts into his hands and rolling it between his palm He brought down his lips to your other one and teasingly started to kiss around your nipple. You moaned arching your back into him. Smirking against your skin he ran his hot tongue against your nipple, while he continued to play with the other one. “These are beautiful.” He said pulling away and moving his attention to your other nipple, wasting no time in taking it into his mouth.

He grounded his hips into you softly, feeling his clothed member grow harder against you. You felt yourself getting wetter as he continued to toy with your breasts. You buried your hands into his hair tugging at the roots as his kisses started to get rougher. He removed his mouth from your nipple and kissed the naval between your breasts. He moaned against your skin and made his way down your body stopping above the seam of your leggings.

Before he could take your leggings off, he sat up and got up from his bed. You watched as he walked over to his door, locking it and made his way back to the bed. You laughed throwing your head back while he took it upon himself to take his pants off. “Stop laughing, I don’t want anyone walking in.” He grabbed your legs and pulled you down to the end of the bed.

“The guys aren’t home.” You wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Doesn’t matter I don’t want them to come home and walking in.” He leaned down and kissed your mound, hooking his thumbs around the elastic of your leggings tugging them down. You raised your hips as a means to help him, as he desperately took them off, throwing them across the room.

Wonwoo kissed the inside of your thighs slowly, one of his hands was caressing your mound, while the other squeezed your thigh gently. You moaned as he bit down on your thigh sucking harshly as he pushed them apart. He made his way up to your clothed core and kissed it softly. You moaned and moved your hand to rest on top of his head.

He brought one of his hands down and pushed your panties to the side. You gasped loudly as you felt his lips wrap around your clit. He kissed it slowly, grabbing your leg and putting it over your shoulder. He continued to tease you until he pulled away, a small hiss of protest escaping your lips. He sat back slowly sliding your panties down your legs. Succeeding in taking them off and tossing them to the side.

He kissed up your leg ruthlessly, rushing to get back to the space between your legs. When he reached his destination, he blew on to your clit teasingly. “Can I continue?” He said bringing one of his fingers to your lips spreading your arousal around.

“Yes Woo,” You moaned grabbing the back of his neck and pulling his face in between your legs. He chuckled against you giving your clit teasing licks, looking up at you. He winked at you pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his free hand and proceeded to devour you. The pleasure taking over your body as you tugged on his hair, raising your hips to meet his mouth. He groaned against you and slowly inserted one of his fingers in you, causing you to gasp loudly.

Wonwoo groaned against you and carefully started to move his finger inside you. “M-More baby.” You moaned out. His kisses against grew more desperate as he inserted a second finger into you. He increased his speed carefully, feeling around your silk walls looking for the one spot he knew would have you falling apart.

The coil in your stomach increased and you tightened the grip you had on his hair. Before you could come undone under his feverish touch he pulled away.

“Why’d you stop?” You whined and watched as he retrieved his fingers from inside you. Holding your gaze, he brought them up to his lips. Before you could stop him, he licked your arousal from his fingers sinfully, smirking down at you.

“I don’t want you to cum yet.” He leaned down and kissed you firmly. His tongue sneaking his way into your mouth, while he grounded his clothed hard-on against your sensitive core. You could taste yourself against your mouth, turning you on even more. Craving his mouth against you once again.

He pulled away and reached over to his bedside table opening the drawer. You took this opportunity and kissed his neck, biting down softly causing him to moan. “Hold on baby.” He groaned while he searched for what he was looking for.

“I don’t want too.” You said against his neck, cruelly biting down. He moaned closing his bedside drawer and sat up pushing down his boxers, revealing his swollen length. It painfully sat against his stomach as he removed his boxers throwing them aside. You bit your lip, your heart threatening to jump out of your chest as you took in the perfectly sculpted man before you. Sitting up on your elbows, you watched as Wonwoo took his length in his hands carefully spreading his precum around his reddened head, ripping open the condom wrapper with his teeth.

You sat up and wrapped your hand around his thick length. He threw his head back moaning your name loudly. You smirked and grabbed the condom from his hand, slowly moving your hand against him, teasing him. “Baby, please stop torturing me.” He gasped out, watching each and every one of your movements. You kissed him sending a shock of electricity down his body, pulling away before he got the chance to respond to your kiss.

You rolled the condom onto his length slowly, taking in each mumble of praise that fell out of his perfect lips. Wonwoo laid you down again, placing a pillow underneath your head and aligned himself at your entrance.

“You sure this is okay.” He grabbed one of your hands intertwining your fingers with his.

“Yes, baby.” You answered and felt him slowly push into you. The two of you moaned simultaneously as he felt your heat stretching around him. He leaned down to kiss you trying his best to distract you from the delicious pain happening between your legs.

“Y-You can move.” You mumbled against his lips. He obliged to your command and slowly started moving. Your body feeling overwhelmed by the pleasure you were currently undergoing, digging your fingers into his back. Wonwoo moaned bringing the hand he was holding over your head. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth as he slowly started to increase his pace.

“W-Wonwoo.” You hissed arching your back into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips. Giving him leverage to rut himself deeper into you. You felt your walls clench around him, feeling the pulsing of his length against your silk.

“You feel so good, love.” He mumbled against your neck biting down, his glasses hitting your chin gently. “Are you close?” He asked slowing down his movements, holding himself up with one hand.

“Not yet, Woo.” You answered pushing his glasses up his nose. He nodded leaning back, tugging on your intertwined hands to rest on top of your stomach. He started moving again, his free hand snaking its way between your connecting bodies.

He pushed into you harder and started rubbing your clit with your thumb. Praises escaping his mouth, while your moans increased in volume. The pleasure building up as he continued to edge you on. You felt your walls tighten around him, digging your nails into his shoulders. Soon you came undone around him moaning out his name loudly, Wonwoo following in suit. The two of you continued to help ride out each other’s orgasm. Your body spasming against his, as the pleasure continued to take over your entire body. He pulled you against your chest, panting your hearts rapidly beating against one another.

You leaned up kissing him softly as he slowly pulled out of you. You groaned against his lips missing the fullness you had felt moments ago. He smiled pulling away, resting his forehead against yours.

“I think we should do that more often.” He suggested making you laugh and hit his chest lightly. He rolled his eyes playfully laying down next to you, wrapping his arms around guiding you to lay down on his chest.

“Was that good?” He asked rubbing soothing circles against your back.

“That was perfect love.” You answered wrapping your arm around his torso. You felt the beating of his heart start to slow down as his breathing started to return back to normal. “Want to shower?” You asked moving your fingers against his torso slowly drawing patterns.

“Not yet I want to stay like this for a while.” He said as he slowly caressed your back. “Stay over tonight?” He finished. You rested your chin against his chest to look up at him and nodded, “But promise me you’ll wake me up in time for my class tomorrow.” You held out your pinky, he chuckled and hooked his fingers against yours.

“I know numerous of ways I could use to wake you up now.” He said suggestively and playfully winked at you. You shook your head and laid back down. “My glasses are dirty again.” He whispered you giggled looking at his tv watching the credits of the movie you had once been intensely watching start to roll out.

“I wonder why Woo.”

He shook his head smiling as he sat up, bringing you along with him. He cradled your cheeks in between your palms, looking into your eyes with an overwhelming amount of love. Your body firing up once again. “I love you and I mean it.” He whispered, pulling you into his glistening chest. You smiled wrapping your arms around him, pressing your body against his. His body heat warming you up again.

“I love you, I mean it.”

[tanyawritesstories]

Bliss Beneath Waves | Kit Fisto x Reader

Here is the fic based off this request. Sorry it took so long, anon 🥺 I loved the idea that this inspired! You can either think of it as before the Clone Wars or if they never happened, since it's peaceful and cute. 🥰 Also, I just started reading The Cestus Deception and have been simping extra hard over Kit recently 😍😍 enjoy!!

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: fluff, one NSFW scene, fingering, cuddling, adorable themes, more fluff, Kit is such a sweetheart and I love him

•••

The planet was gorgeous at night. It’s moon was closer to it than on Coruscant and provided more light, bathing everything in a soft blue glow. The surface of the planet was mostly water with islands of every size scattered about here and there. The only noise was that of the gentle waves lapping at the shore and songbirds whistling their lullabies for all to hear. It was so peaceful, even if you were sitting by yourself on a boulder at the edge of the water, not currently joined with your partner just yet.

You closed your eyes and breathed in the fresh air. Glee Anselm was one of the favorite planets you’d ever visited and it wasn’t just because the locals were nice and the scenery was beautiful. It held a special place in your heart. You smiled thinking of all the reasons why it did.

One of those reasons was currently walking towards the rocks where you were sitting. You could faintly hear the shuffling of the sand as it sunk under his boots, your smile widened. You knew he was looking at you. You heard what sounded like clothes rustling together before small grunts as he clambered onto your rock, sitting down beside you. “Evening, my love,” he greeted. You turned your head, still smiling, and was treated to the sight of Kit, looking just as happy as you. “How did your mission go?” You asked.

“It went great,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “I didn’t expect it to go so well. The Senator even invited me to dinner afterwards, hence why I was so late. You remember meeting her, don’t you?” You nodded, resting your head on his chest. “I remember. I’m shocked you two are still good friends despite the idea that politicians and Jedi don’t mix.” He chuckled. “She and I have been friends for years, our political ideals and lifestyles don’t get in the way of that.”

You had initially been a bit jealous when you first met the Senator of Kit’s home planet. He seemed very fond of her, and her of him. Kit had sensed your emotions and explained that Senator Kadis and himself had been good friends when they were growing up. When he became a Jedi he took attachment very seriously and purposely forgot about her, but as he grew older and more comfortable with his life, his interpretations of the code had loosened and that had been when he met you. His relationship with you was stronger than anything and nothing could tear him away from you.

You both sat in silence for a few minutes until Kit noticed your attire. “Where did you get this dress?” He asked, thumbing the material. You had almost forgotten that you were wearing such a nice outfit. “I had a formal dinner meeting to attend, I came here right after,” you explained. “I don’t mean to sound dull, sweet thing, but your business dealings sound more boring than anything the Senate has to offer,” he commented. You laughed. “They are for the most part,” you agreed, “but I love investing in promising people and helping their ideas make it big.”

Kit smiled and returned his attention to your dress. It wasn’t anything too fancy. It had been a warm Coruscant summer day and you wanted something that would keep you from overheating. It was a light yellow flowy, strapless dress that came down to your knees. A white ribbon with a small bow acted as a belt around your middle, and also kept the chiffon fabric from getting out of control. “Where did you get it?” He inquired. “Just a small store I found, it was the cheapest formal looking thing I could find,” you answered. He hummed, “you look stunning in it.” You smiled, a small blush dusting your cheeks and ears. “Thank you, baby.”

Kit decided it was that time in the day to relax and promptly whisked off his shirt, leaving him in just a loose pair of knee-length, brown pants. “Would you like to join me for a swim, darling?” He asked, slipping off the boulder and into the water. “I’ll think about it,” you said. You swung your legs off the rock, letting your feet dip into the water as you watched Kit walk into deeper water and dive under. You hadn’t known much about Nautolans when you first met Kit four years ago. You remember how sheepish you felt after you got worried when he had been underwater for ten minutes without surfacing, only to have someone tell you that his species was mostly aquatic and had gills to breathe underwater.

Kit resurfaced near you and swam over, running his hands up and down your legs, coating them in a sheen of warm water. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me?” He wondered. “I’m fine right here, for now,” you replied. Kit planted a few kisses to your calf before smirking to himself and looking up at you with an innocent stare. “How much did you say you paid for this dress?” You looked down at him, curious as to why he was asking. “Not much, why?” Kit moved his hands farther up your legs. “Do you like it a lot?” You shrugged, “I mean it’s alright, it’s not my favorite thing I’ve ever purchased. Why are you-”

“So you wouldn’t mind if it got a little ruined, would you?” Kit asked with a devious smirk. You were confused until his grip on your legs tightened, by the time you realized what was happening, it was too late to stop it. “No, no, no, Kit!” You shouted in shock as he pulled on your legs, dragging you off the rock and into the water. He caught you in his arms before you completely submerged, laughing at the annoyed expression on your face. “What? You said it wasn’t your favorite,” he joked, his smile so big and genuine that you had a hard time finding it in you to be mad at him. At least the water was warm.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you joked along with. Your arms linked around the back of his neck bringing you closer together. Kit cupped your cheek and brought your lips to his. The kiss started slow, but it quickly escalated into heated passion and want. One of Kit’s hands wandered down to the hem of your dress, running his hand up your thigh and pushing the wet fabric up. You broke away with a small gasp. “Kit…” you breathed. “Shh, I know, we don’t have much time,” he said, “but I’ve finally got some alone time with my wife, there is no way I’m going to spend it without pleasuring you in some way..”

You whined and wrapped one of your legs around his waist, opening them just enough for Kit to rest his hand on your barely covered sex. “You’re warm down here,” he observed, sending you a lust filled glance. “Well, my husband did just promise to finger-fuck me within an inch of my life so I don’t know what you expect, you handsome devil,” you replied cheekily. Kit chuckled, the sound a low and enticing rumble. “Then finger-fuck you within an inch of your life I shall do,” he settled. In a few quick movements Kit pushed the offending fabric of your thong aside and ran two fingers firmly along your slit.

You gasped and gripped onto his shoulders, grinding down onto his long digits. Kit attached his lips to your neck and gently nibbled, he didn’t want to leave marks knowing where you both would be heading after this. He teased your entrance before sinking two fingers deep into your needy cunt. “Kit..” you moaned out, running your hands through his head tendrils softly. He groaned in response, working his way down to lick the skin of your collarbone. His fingers sped up, your slickness combined with the water meant little to no resistance for his fingers. Your breathing was shallow and you squealed when he hit your hidden pleasure point. He hummed, now nibbling on your earlobe. “You going to cum on my fingers, sweet one?” His thumb found your clit and he rubbed firm circles on it. You only nodded, not able to produce words.

His fingers were thrusting in and out at a blinding pace now, he curled his fingers up sharp and hard, sending you over the edge. You wailed as your orgasm washed over you, Kit removed his fingers when it got too much for you. He gently pulled your panties back in place and watched as you came down from bliss. You sighed happily, continuing to run your hands over and through his head tentacles, it helped you both relax. When Kit was calm he gave off a calming aura that you latched onto, bringing yourself into the same headspace. He nuzzled into your touch as one hand moved to his back and you pulled him in for a tight hug. You massaged his back, working out any tension in his muscles, the water providing an extra relaxing effect.

After a while of calming down and spending time loving in silence, you both decided it was time to get moving. You both exited the water and dried off the best you could, heading to a familiar side of town once you were both presentable. “I hope your mother won’t be angry that we’re fifteen minutes late,” you wondered aloud. You and Kit stopped at a simple, cozy looking house at the end of the road, where Kit began pushing in the code for the front door. “I’m sure she won’t mind, you know she loves the kids,” he assured.

The door opened and you both stepped inside, not seeing anyone at first. You weren’t standing for very long until you heard the thundering of footsteps coming your way, the two young boys rounded the corner, barreling towards you and Kit. “Aiden! Mika! We missed you,” Kit said, kneeling on the floor as his son ran to him at full speed. “Mommy, dada! You’re back!” They both shouted. Mika ran to you and you grabbed under his arms, lifting the youngster into your arms and balancing him on your hip. Aiden ran straight into his father’s arms and Kit scooped him up and spun him around. Kit’s mother rounded the corner shortly after with a smile on her face. “You two came back just in time, they were starting to get restless,” she said.

“Thank you again for watching them.” You said, planting a kiss to Mika’s forehead and smoothing your hands over his tiny head tentacles that were just starting to grow out. “Daddy, can we go home now, I’m getting tired,” Aiden voiced with a yawn. “Of course, little man,” Kit answered, “say goodbye to your grandmother now.” Both boys waved and said numerous goodbyes as you and Kit carried them out of the house. Your ship was parked a short distance away and by the time you reached it Mika had fallen asleep in your arms and Aiden could barely keep his eyes open. You got to the ship and set both boys down in their on-board bunks, kissing them goodnight before you and Kit joined each other in the cockpit.

You pecked a kiss to his cheek as he punched in the coordinates for Coruscant. “I love you, Kit,” you said. He smiled and planted a kiss on your cheek as well. “I love you too, darling. Now strap in, it’ll be awhile before we reach home.”

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Lost boys backstorys

I made a post while ago on my ideas of the boys past but now I want to update it. I just want you to know I’m still a firm Prequel lover/follower however we don’t get much info on the boys Pre 1906, so that’s what this is for! However personally I would have had more Max so this is going to be both pre 1906 but also include relationship with Max a bit.

I am also including my personal ideas on Last names and age. However I am under the idea that they wouldn’t know/take their last name seriously if the did know it cause- ya know. Orphans. This is going to be lengthy and I’m going to pin it, not just because I want it seen but also to remind myself in fic writing (when I don’t follow these ideas in a fic it’s gonna be Marked as Au- as I’ll probably be messing around with a different past.)

I’ll be doing appearance but only physical as there’s some stylistic changes. For clothing? Honestly so thinking workers clothes/cowboy esc

Also! Their stories are all going to kinda intertwine so I’d there’s not enough info under one theirs a solid chance there’ll be more for them under someone else’s!

David Hardy-

Age(as of 1906): 19

Born: 1887

Appearance: Average height, his hair a dirty blond- near reddish and is around shoulder length. Bearded. (Think doc but with slightly updated clothing)

Backstory:

David Is the only of the boys to grow up with at least one of his parents, living with his mother until her death when he was around 7. They lived in a decent, though cramped little space in San Francisco, by the docks. His father worked on and off- a not so stable style ending in him getting involved in not doing saviory things - getting arrested. His mother worked as a washerwoman. David worked the streets awhile, as a young child now left alone, he learned to pickpocket and live off what he could manage. It was around this time he had found Marko- doing the same thing he was - though arguably less effectively do to his more sporadic nature. At around age 10 the two became extremely close and rather inseparable, Marko even looking up to him despite being the older of the pair. However david wasn’t one to living completely criminal like... he did NOT want to be his father, which lead him to not drinking , EVER. (Even as a vampire he still doesn’t do alcohol.) he poked towards more honest work, also forcing Marko into doing the same , which he wasn’t exactly thrilled about- but did anyway. Tried. David did a lot of work on the docks, odd jobs and stuff like that- but it never paid even half as good as nabbing a wallet or cheating at cards. He wouldn’t be his father- he’d be better- better then all the nobody’s. More level headed then Marko though  ambitious, big headed and still wildly child like- eventually Paul , Dwayne and Jasper joining the pair. Well now, David had himself a full on gang. Never robbery, not that far. The group pickpocketed , cheated at any sort of game or match, that sort of thing... they were still young after all. Smart enough not to go wild like some famous bandit (Though David will admit to his slight admiration of Billy the kid.). He’s a quick learner, and when he learns something- he learns it well- becomes a damn near expert. When he is good at something he is good at it. He is the leader out of the groups mutual respect towards him , quick thinker. Notable flaws: Huge ego, hopeless romantic.

Marko Connelly-

Age(as of 1906): 20

Born: 1886

Appearance: on the shorter side, golden - darker brown hair in this fluff of ringlets it’s long about just past his shoulder blades and typically tied back. Usually dirty somehow (Think Poli but with longer hair and updated clothing)

Backstory:

Born to a rich family , one of those who moved from east to west and actually did make it big. He was a pretty little thing, more a doll to his mother then particularly a child- only taken from Nanny to be dotted over or photos taken. However around the age of 3 or 4 things had tipped, scandal! Missing. That is what the newspapers said anyway he was found missing- was it that he was given away? Or stolen? He was never particularly a child to be quite or sit still or anything such as that... so who is to say? Marko doesn’t remember a lick of that either way as he was far far to young for it but he does remember being alone. This is how he had grown his attachment to birds, they always stuck around. He grew comfortable with being alone, having himself to depend on, getting good at grabbing what he needs- A mansion is stark contrast to dirty winding alleyways. He was always cursed with his looks- even filth covered at 6 he could make sad eyes and tend to swindle whatever he wanted... but he wasn’t completely quick. He’d get in trouble, his face memorable he could rarely pass the same trick again. At 11 David came across him, the two started working and living together (that is where they could find a place to sleep.) he sort of gained this complex. He felt he owed David , in some strange sense he became attached at the hip- a helper, a second- almost servant like the guy had saved his life and he is now the others. It didn’t help that at a young age, Marko had developed what was come to be understood as a deep crush- at times as teens this was reciprocated. As loyal and loving as he was to the other male he wasn’t nearly as cautious, as rule following... he had come to despise authority, to despise the fancy, the rich all of the crowd. He was never sure why. Even regular work got on his hate list... but he gave in and would try to do a normal amount pf work.. it never really worked as there was something, how he would sass, how he looked or smelled or spoke (neither him nor David really spoke ‘proper’ English - meaning no slang or accent). Around when Paul came things started to shift in the group, more mouths- more work and more thinking. Oh yea David and his thinking. Marko is a bit hostile right off the bat when it comes to people he doesn’t know, eventually he cracks and will be more loyal to you then to anyone you’d ever know. He opened up to Paul, a lot sooner then he would have thought the guy was funny and sweet - lil stupid too. David had this grand idea of a little gang, naturally Marko was all for it because illegal activity is fun- it was like a game to him. A liked stealing from pockets and playing distraction for David, as time grew he began to hate how young and gentle his face appeared to be. He LOATHED absolutely appalled the pity glances he would get, the hand outs the whole “oh you poor fragile little dear 🥺” he hated being babied and still does. He hated the stares he got on the opposite direction ... at first, it was funny, it was nice to be wanted in that sense rather then some baby. However... it grew creepy, it wasn’t women or a fella his age...it was more the gaze of older men. Marko detested it so much- he KNEW he’s seen what some of the guys... even younger then him ended up doing- he could see the occasional look in david’s eye. No he would never really consider....no. Paul was more his shoulder to cry on, someone to go to , to ramble to to speak with and just be with. The two were touchy, always leaning against eachother or grabbing their arms, laughing or sleeping or- eventually it became more then casual, it was serious. The two started ‘dating’ at some point- none of them were ever serious on titles but it was good to put a word to it.

Paul campbell-

Age (as of 1906) : 18

Born: 1888

Appearance: tall and lengthy, he has a mole on his left cheek, he has stubble/shadow opposed to a beard. He’s also usually dirty, dirty blond , long hair think Buffalo bill with volume and his hairline not receding

Backstory:

Grew up in a orphanage, hundreds of kids all stuffed together into a few rooms, often sharing beds and everything else. He was never a still child, he would always figit and move and shift - whenever he’s supposed to be quite or still like lessons or Mass he just couldn’t. This - got him most of the attention from the mistresses and overseers- much more quick to slap then to explain... he was docile , quick to flinch and try and stop. Never worked well. Once you get to 7-8ish you work if not adopted by a decent age. Sweeping, factory work he tried it all. He was particularly desensitized to violence at a extremely young age while working in a textile factory- he’s seen a kids arm come clean off. Terror turns to fascination eventually. At some point he’d stopped returning at night finding David and Marko at 15, he started hanging with them- it was safer in numbers that sort of thing- Paul could read a bit , David could write a bit- the three worked it out together. always so distracted- the others learned right off the bat he wasn’t built for pick pocketing no matter how hard he begged about it. Instead he’d do real jobs- sweeping , fighting, placing crooked bets that sort of thing. He always complains. A massive softie since he was young, Paul can’t quite handle being on his own- he’s used to having at least one other person around him at all times causing him to get quite hooked onto the other boys. He hovers around the same places. He is also a fan of dancing- Paul- is music obsessed the moment he heard the first noise of any sort of music he was hooked. He is one about fun- being restrained from it for so long as a child- always to sit out and watch or to think about whatever he did.. oh. Dancing, drinking, drugs, clubs, all of it is his kind of deal- he would drag the others with him when they had a bit of extra cash to deal with. Dwayne and his brother, when they joined on he was instantly accepting, unlike Marko he didn’t have the deep seeded trust issues, he was immediately touchy and happy to share a joke or a comment no matter the glares. He is the one to get Dwayne to lighten up a little bit, to smile he loves to see that smile :). He got around to dating Marko, when they finally put a label on it he was really giddy about it, making jokes and comments- he adores the little names like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘bo’ - he eventually gets around to just plain ‘sugar’ . Marko is the one who really entertains Paul’s love for dancing, the two of them trying to get the others to do something lighten up- eventually their pawing would bare fruit. Paul makes the best out of the worst situation, even if they end up sleeping on the beach more often then not- he somehow makes it seam alright. Except that one time he had gotten sand in Dwayne’s eye and all hell broke lose. He is the current youngest member of the group after Jaspers passing.

Dwayne Maher

Age (as of 1906) : 22

Born: 1884

Appearance: Tall, muscular , tanned(I will establish this now but Dwayne is Native American.) long Black hair with burnet highlights, reaches half down his back.

Backstory:

Born out more Midwest unlike the others he was not born in San Francisco, eldest son of a decent sized family of four kids. Do to conflict he and his younger brother skipped town, skipped state and fled to California.. better options you know?. He’s strong built, hard working and good with his hands though, rather playful most of the time. He looks after his younger brother closely, when there is work they work the same place, when there is not they both still do the same. Quickly took to David and the gang , having a tight knit bond with each of them. He was sort of the muscle - if there was trouble, he knew how to fight and it would likely work better then the knives the boys carried around or the gun David could barely shoot. It was Paul who got him to open up more, about himself and just to speak in general, he’s much more under his breath and jokingly commenting then he is saying something out loud- however if he dislikes something or thinks it stupid you WILL know it. Like David he carries the occasional thought of caution, however he’s not nearly as quick to worry. Maher is not his actual last name , nor does he ever mention it- he simply uses this one when it’s needed as some sort of identification or document. He’s surprisingly good at money, he ends up counting with David and is better at budgeting no matter how he may want or need something. He doesn’t speak on his past as he tries to make it seam he has little of one, he likes to make things mysterious he finds it amusing.

Jasper Maher-

Age (as of 1906) : 16

Born: 1890

Died: 1906

Appearance: shoulder length black hair, typically tied back and braided , tanned, string bean.

Backstory:

The younger brother of Dwayne who is much much more open on how he grew up, casually mentioning things he learned from his parents of his brother (he doesn’t remember his parents that much.) young hot shot sort of kid who’d much rather have action then he would some serious job, loud, energy filled and one for violence- however he’s surprisingly sweet. He often got himself and his brother into trouble. He was a quick and fast young child who grew surprisingly closest with Marko, the two having a habit for breaking every possible rule they could manage together. Their close friendship lead to Marko naming one of his birds after Jasper long after his passing.

Max-

Unknown age but he is seen as extremely old and powerful

Relationship with the boys:

After finding them he has decided to take them under his metaphorical and physical wing, acting as a sort of guardian. Food, clothing, shelter, he was everything the boys didn’t have and was surprisingly inviting in the beginning. ‘I do this for you, you on occasion do this for me’ sort of deal. He wasn’t a leader so much as he was a usual figure, the boys knew and understood him to be above them... so they followed you know? The whole new vampirism thing and the clueless kids- he had to explain and show nearly everything... especially to David, he wasn’t so much harsh to him as he was strict- more of a lead by example sort. Honestly he was father like in a strange sense- that someone is almost like a parent but very much your boss. See... with Max’s strength, there’s this almost automatic level of control- you can’t say no to him. You literally can’t not do what he asks (some supernatural level messing-). There’s something dark about him, in him that the boys still don’t understand in the 80s- but it scares them. It’s strange, it feels unlike him... he seams just like a Dorky , sweet man until...

Some random thoughts that don’t really fit anything

The boys are explicitly religious, past what you’d hear in passing or remember from growing up. Saying “oh god” and respecting religious officials are about what you’ll get

Whoopsies! This was a extremely long post lmao. Sorry for the long read but I could go on and on about them this was just a small blurb to all of it. If you ever wanna hear more do tell me. Also tell me if I should add tw for anything as I know I got a little dark at some points.

[r3almellow]

Gavin and Victor Getting Head From Their S/o For The First Time

Thanks for the request!! Since your favs are Gavin and Victor I figured I’d take the time to focus on them! But if you guys want the others or a specific person let me know!  

This is my second time writing about this, but my first time kinda going in depth about it. So I’m sorry if its not too detailed.

This somehow turned into a mini fics and not reactions. OOPS! I’m not sorry. 

Also not sorry about the title. I have no filter so this shouldn’t be surprising. 

Warnings: Oral Sex

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Gavin

You’ve toyed with the idea of giving him a blowjob for a while. Its something you’ve never done before and you were more than nervous to try it out on him. You consulted your more experienced friends on the matter and walked away with way more information than you bargained for. What did hollowing your cheeks mean?!

You knew if you brought it to his attention, he’ll tell you not to worry about it because Gavin would rather pamper you. 

He prefers to make you feel special in every way possible. Giving you the pleasure you desire is all he wants to do. And boooy does he love to give. The way his tongue swiveled and darted in and out of your pussy or the way he teased your clit with a flick of his tongue turned you into a complete mess. Where he learned to eat a woman out like that you had no idea. 

You understood his need to please you, but you wanted to make your man feel good too! You can’t be the only one on the receiving end of such a euphoric experience. 

So, what do you do? Catch him off guard!

You got your chance when you suggested that the two of you shower together before he left on a week long mission. This wasn’t an unusual request since you’ve showered together countless times with only a handful of those times leading to sex. 

Gavin was halfway through washing your hair when you leaned back against his chest, sighing softly. 

“Kind of hard to finish up with you like this.” You only hummed as a response as his fingers expertly massaged your scalp almost putting you in a dreamlike trance. ALMOST. Don’t forget why you’re here!

You purposely pressed your lower half against him, feeling his semi-hard erection against your bare ass.

“Babe...” He warned, taking a small step back to create some distance in the already small space. 

You turned slightly to give him an impish grin then reached behind you, grasping Gavin’s now hardened length, giving it a few light strokes. You heard his breath hitch.

“Something wrong, Gav?”

You asked a question you didn’t wait for a response for. You turned to face Gavin fully and quickly knelt in front of him, your hand still firmly wrapped around him. You ignored the warm water pelting against the back of your head as you continued to stroke him.

You weren’t sure if it was the steam from the shower or lust clouding your head, but the way Gavin looked down at you with red dusted cheeks and slightly parted lips had you feeling dizzy. 

“I’ve never done this before.” You admitted shyly focusing your attention to what was in your hand. Gavin was above average in terms of length and girth and you loved how well he fit inside you, but your mouth was another story. Could it even fit?!

“You don’t have to...hgn...” Before he could finish his sentence you teasingly licked the head of his cock causing it to twitch in response. You watched in wonder as pre-cum oozed from the tip. He was always sensitive to your touch...

His Reaction

There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about what it would feel like having your mouth wrapped around him. He pushed such fantasies out of his mind so he could focus on you. He was content with just making you happy, but now...

Feeling your tongue dance along his shaft had his knees weak! It took everything he had not to collapse in front of you. And when you slowly slid him into your mouth, your teeth grazing his thick member he was almost done for.

Gavin could tell you were testing the waters using agonizingly slow movements only going halfway, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wish to see you take all of him in his mouth.

Nothing beats having his cock buried deep inside you, but your mouth is definitely a close second for him. 

Gavin isn’t the most vocal during sex, but expect heavy pants and low groans from your man.

Out of habit Gavin won’t verbally tell you what he doesn’t like so you have to rely on his body language. 

You’re able to learn a lot about Gavin from this. Like whenever your teeth graze a certain spot along his shaft his lips quiver and how there’s a twinkle in his eyes when you pull away and he sees a trail of your saliva that connects you to him.

When he cums, he’ll try to pull away not wanting to get you messy. Sir I got your dick in my mouth, I think we’re way passed being clean.  Don’t let him get away!

You’re caught off guard and gag a little at the sudden intrusion and unsuspecting taste. 

He’ll be so apologetic and it takes you like a minute or two to convince him that you’re fine. 

Want to get him going again? Take some of his cum dribbling from your chin and bring it between your legs. 

GAVIN.EXE HAS STOPPED WORKING.

P.S. Do this again on a softer surface! Hard surfaces create sore knees!

Victor

You’ve been dating Victor for almost three months and you’ve been intimate with him for two of those months. 

Sex with Victor has been all about him getting to know your body. If there was something you didn’t like he wanted you to tell him so he could fix it.

He wanted all intimate experiences with him to be all that you wanted and more. 

You loved how well he paid attention to your body, but sex was a two way street. The way he went the extra mile to ensure that you felt cherished, you wanted to do the same for him. 

The idea of oral sex came to you when you were out drinking with your friends and of course they probed you about your sex life. They offered their advice on what you could do to spice things up and blowjobs just happened to be the lesser of all the crazy things they came up with.

Its safe to say, you were nervous about even attempting such a thing. Mainly because Victor was such a perfectionist!

Victor was good at finding faults in the things people did and while he has softened his critiques when it came to you, you didn’t want to risk it. 

It would be so embarrassing to have him belittle you over something like this. You can already here the sharp and forthright tone in his voice. 

“Your stroke motions are off. Its up/down not down/up.” 

 Okay...he wasn’t that bad, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself.

You honestly weren’t going to say anything and figure it out on your own, but the one thing you learned through your time with Victor was that communication was key. 

Victor is all for teaching you such an intimate art and while he won’t say it out loud, he’s touched that you’re willing to do something like this for him.

The practice run ends up happening while you were both in a heated make out session while in his couch. 

When you decided to kneel before him and pulled down the zipper of his slacks you knew there was no going back.

Victor made sure to let you know doing this wasn’t necessary as way to give you an out, but you were determined.

Sure, you were afraid of not being able to satisfy your boyfriend, but that wasn’t going to stop you! 

You fished around his boxer-briefs pulling out his fully erected shaft. You blushed slightly as it throbbed in your hand and gave him a few gentle pumps. 

Victor had never seen you look so determined before. He wasn’t sure whether to be surprised or turned on. 

You leaned in giving his cock a small kiss and looked up at him.

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.” 

His Reaction

Victor always knew you were a fast learner and eager to do things right, but you definitely exceeded his expectations. 

What exactly did he expect? For this to be an okay experience because this was your first time in a position like this. There was always room for growth whenever you started something new, but this...you were something dangerous.

He barely has to say anything and you were doing your own thing. Tongue swiveling around him and head bobbing up and down without any signs of slowing down. 

He loves the light humming sounds you make whenever he reaches out to brush strands of your hair out of you face.

Expect so much praise! It takes a lot for the CEO of LFG to give ANYONE praise, but your boyfriend will be throwing compliments at you left and right. 

Aside from praising you, Victor isn’t very vocal during sex, but the sound of his heavy erratic breathing is music to your ears.  

If you massage his balls that man is a goner! Triple points if you take one of them into your mouth and massage it with your tongue. Where did you learn to do that?! Google does wonders. 

He’ll let you know when he’s about to cum so you’re prepared. Pull away with your mouth open, tongue out and the speed of your strokes quickening. The sight of you looking so desperate to taste him will send him over the edge!

You’ll let him cum all over your face and neck, catching some of it in your mouth. 

Smear his cum on your chest and Victor will feel a sense of pride. He’ll compare it to a significant other wearing something of their lover’s. And in a weird way it makes sense.

He’ll also feel his dick grow hard all over again, so get ready for a round two! 

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Done!!

Victor was a little tricky because I had so many ideas as to where this would take place. In a Mercedes, Souvenir after hours, ect. The possibilities were endless. 

Like what you read? Be sure to check out more of my stuff here! Send me requests if you have any! 

[fuckingthefictional]

Secret Shelby.

Finn Shelby x Reader

Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Holidays or happy-whatever-you-may-celebrate.

Here’s a crap fic that’s way too long, and half of it is probably gibberish- but hey enjoy!

“Where the fuck is Finn?”

The clock ticked teasingly- it made Arthur more annoyed. By waiting around they were losing time that could be spent working. Or more importantly, getting drunk.

The air was thick with tension. And all of the Shelby’s and the rest of the Blinders were growing increasingly impatient with the youngest brother. He had yet to make an appearance and it frustrated the eldest Shelby to no end.

If there was one thing that the Shelby family expected with the business they owned, it was to be on time- everyone knew that the Shelby’s hated tardiness and the fact that Finn hadn’t shown up was pushing them all into a state of annoyance.

“I said where the fuck is Finn?” Arthur asked again, not particularly asking anyone directly.

“I’ve not seen ‘im.” Isaiah replied from the column he was leant on.

Tommy took an inhale of his cigarette and swilled the whiskey around the glass it was contained in.

“If Isaiah doesn’t know Arthur, then I have no fuckin’ clue. If you’re that bothered about the lad then go and find him.” Smoke blew from his mouth, “Until then, we’re going to talk business like real businessmen.”

—

That same morning on the other side of Small Heath, Finn Shelby was tucked up in bed. His arms wrapped around his loves small frame.

You were still fast asleep-you were tired what from being up most of the night in discomfort.

Finn, however, found himself marveling at his girl’s belly, the skin was stretched taut over the swollen bump. It cradled the baby that had yet to be born.

The young Shelby rubbed a circle into the skin with a rough hand across the top of the bump. The movement obviously had caught the attention of his unborn child because soon after he could feel the small jolts and jabs against his palm.

The action brought a smile to his face but subsequently caused you to groan and hiss in pain.

He’d forgotten how sensitive your belly had become in the weeks leading up to delivery. The doctors had said, that because of your small, adolescent frame- it gave the baby less room to move around comfortably.

Finn knew you’d do anything for your baby to be comfy and safe within your body though, so you had proclaimed that if it meant a few days of discomfort and pain then so be it.

“You okay?” Finn mumbled into your messy hair, “do you need anything love?”

You had to smile at his offer. Ever since you’d become pregnant, Finn had been home a lot more. You hadn’t expected it (not that you weren’t thankful and grateful for it), you knew how much family meant to him- how much the business meant to him. How much proving himself to his brothers meant to him.

When you brought it up with him though, he just claimed that “You’re my family now. You and our little bean.”

“Love?”

You were brought out of your thoughts to see Finn looking worried.

You caressed his cheek, “just hold us.”

He slowly pressed a long kiss to your hairline and then proceeded to wrap his arms around as much of your waist as he could reach.

“What do you think they’ll look like?”

The thought caused you to smile softly, “I hope he looks just like you. With your curly red hair and freckles.”

Finn chuckled into the crook between your shoulder and neck, “so it’s a he huh?” I stroked the bump lovingly, “I think it’s going to be a little girl- a spitting image of her mother.”

The idea of the baby being here made you both sick with nerves but also full of joy and excitement.

Pregnancy was a new concept for both of you, especially considering you were both only 17.

But you were so glad that Finn had stuck with you for the duration of your pregnancy.

He never missed an appointment and constantly talked to the small baby that grew inside of you. He’d even tried to take up knitting, Finn had managed to make a scruffy looking bobble hat for when the baby arrived. It looked crap- but you appreciated it all the same.

Children, however, were a different story. Finn had obviously been in charge of looking after his nieces and nephews in the time when his brothers were abroad fighting.

And he still occasionally did it whenever Esme or John needed a spare hand.

And you were known to babysit and tutor children around Small Heath. You were one of the few genuinely liked people in town.

You weren’t judgemental and were willing to help others- and as much as the Small Heath inhabitants didn’t want to admit they were thankful.

The idea of your own bundle of joy was different. You’d both held and cared for babies that belonged to someone else- and the idea that this child growing inside of you was your responsibility made you anxious.

But you and Finn and soon the baby had each other and that was all that mattered.

//

“Mum?” The soft knock from the entryway of the office caused Polly to look up from the books she had been poured over minutes previously.

Micheal walked in and took a seat in front of his mother.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Micheal frowned slightly, he didn’t know whether he was reading too much into this.

“I’m worried about Finn.” His face conveyed serious stature though as his mother looked up at him from behind thick lashes.

“And why is that?”

“Because I haven’t seen him in days.” He licked his lips, “He hasn’t been at the betting den, or the garrison, his apartment is empty every time I check. For fuck's sake he hasn’t even shown his face at the family meetings.”

Micheal shifted in his seat, “Him not showing up to family meetings is not normal. When has Finn ever missed out on a chance to prove himself?”

Polly stubbed out her cigarette into the ashtray, she looked as if she were thinking hard for a solution.

“I’ll bring it up with Tommy, truth be told I’m worried too. Finn has never been gone this long without calling, writing or even just visiting.” Her hand brushed some stray hairs out of her face, “I agree, it’s not like him.”

//

You didn’t understand how you had grown so big in the last week. You knew you were entering your 38th week and that you were coming into the area of potential delivery dates.

Finn had put you in bed rest and was adamant that it would stay that way until the baby arrived.

Some of the ladies from around town had been keeping you company, their children presenting you with hand-me-downs from when they themselves had been babes.

Staying in bed was nice for the first day or so- but then your pregnancy hormones kicked in and you couldn’t help but feel smothered and miss the absence of using your muscles.

You hated bed rest- but you knew it soothed Finn knowing that his two loves were tucked up and safe in bed.

You knew Finn had been avoiding his family like the plague, he still did jobs that paid the bills and kept money coming in. But whenever he saw his brothers- he’d only speak a few sentences around them.

He’d gotten a right bollocking from Tommy, saying that he needed to prioritize his family over whatever he had been so occupied with.

So that’s what he did, he focused on his new family. He still spoke to his Aunt Poll and occasionally Micheal and Isaiah.

But you were beginning to get frustrated with your boyfriend. You knew that his absence in the Shelby family was hurting them, and doing more harm than good.

It hurt Finn as well as much as he didn’t want to admit. These were the brothers that practically raised him. The boys that taught him everything he knew. The boys that shaped him into the person he was now.

And that had been why you’d persuaded him to go out to the Garrison for the evening- just him and his family (plus Isaiah).

At the time you’d thought it was a great idea, you just forgot one detail. You were heavily pregnant and due anytime soon.

And of course, the baby chose the only time that their father was out to try and make an appearance.

—

Finn walked into the pub, the smoky air and rowdiness of the patrons made Finn feel at home.

Considering he had been coming to the Garrison since he was a young lad, he had become used to the behaviour from the drinkers that spent their time in the pub.

He shouldered the door to the private room, and there sat his brothers, cousin, and Isaiah.

“Oi, Oi who’s this?” John’s cocky voice chirped from the corner of the booth.

“I don’t know mate,” Arthur shot back, “looks like a stranger to me.”

“Shut up.” Finn grumbled back, rolling his eyes.

Finn sat down next to Isaiah, who in turn passed over a cigarette.

The next hour was spent playing cards, they were all completely aware of how uncomfortable the youngest Shelby was. Finn kept looking towards the door, tapping his foot anxiously.

Tommy finally spoke up, “Where’ve you been then, aye Finn?”

“Y’know out and about.”

Tommy and Arthur shared a look, “You know that’s not what I meant Finn.”

Finn was glaring at his older brothers now, he knew that they wouldn’t give up until they had every piece of information.

That was until Harry knocked on the hatch and claimed that there was a phone call for Finn

He abruptly rose from his seat and slammed the door upon exiting.

He picked up the receiver that the barman was holding for him.

“Hello?”

“Finn!”

“Y/N- what’s wrong?”

There was a pause and he could hear your harsh pants through the line.

“Y/N/N?”

“The baby-“ there was more wincing from your end, “The baby is coming.”

“Shit.”

“Just get fucking home now! For fuck sake.”

With a last few reassurances, he put the phone back onto the holder. Finn turned only to see a small crowd comprised of his older brothers.

Finn started to push past them but was stopped by hands on his shoulders.

“I need to go.”

“Not until you tell us where you’re going.”

He was starting to get angry, “For fuck's sake Tommy- let me go!” He broke free and started to break into a sprint.

His lungs were on fire and his legs burnt but Finn continued the pace all the way back to where his girl was waiting.

What he failed to notice was his brothers tailing him in the family car.

—

You were hunched over panting harshly, grasping onto the mattress with white knuckles.

You knew labour was bad- but you didn’t expect it to be this bad. The rippling pain was intense and you hadn’t expected the process to be this quick.

The ladies at the hospital had said that a first-time labour would be a slow process- evidently, that wasn’t the case.

“Come on baby, work with me- at least wait for yer father, yeah?” You mumbled to the empty room.

Another contraction struck your body causing you to yell out in pain.

“Y/N/N?”

It was Finn.

“Bedroom!” Was the only reply you could muster.

A few seconds later your boyfriend rushed into the room, he immediately knelt down to your level and slowly kneaded the bottom of you back.

You let out a few more groans- your belly felt tight. It was almost as if the contractions were seizing your entire body and you could feel a harsh pressure urging you to push.

You found yourself grasping Finn’s shoulder, “I need you to check...I can feel something.”

Finn just gawked at you, speechless. However seeing you in pain, he did as he was told.

And low and behold there was what looked like the top of a head.

“Baby’s coming now, love.”

You grunted in response, as he helped you up onto the stripped mattress.

And then the door flew off of its hinges, and in strolled the Shelby brothers.

Finn seemed to be in as much shock as you were.

His shouts of anger rang out, as you groaned again and again.

At this point you were in a lot of pain and all you wanted was privacy and rest. And to have this fucking child out of your body.

“Did you invite the entirety of fucking Birmingham to witness this!” You screamed, hands finding their way to the metal bed frame which was situated behind you. The men just stared on- seemingly speechless.

“GET OUT!”

They scarpered from the room, saying something about “fetching Aunt Pol”

You didn’t care anymore, you’d given up trying to be rational and following the instructions that had been given at the hospital to you months prior.

If your body wanted to push, then you’d bloody well listen.

Finn had placed warm water, towels and a blanket on the bedside table. He then proceeded to climb behind you and press soft kisses to your sweaty brow.

“Finn I need to push.” You announced, “this baby isn’t waiting for anyone else.”

You could feel him nod behind you, “what can I do to help?”

The words would have been sweet if you weren’t too busy pushing a human out of you.

“Hold my knees back.”

He complied, and you felt your knees raise up to your chest.

And then- you began to push.

It felt like an eternity, but then you felt a release and heard it. You heard a high pitched scream, and a kick to your thighs.

The baby was here.

You looked up at Finn, who was teary-eyed and slowly reached down where your hands met the small body of your daughter.

By the time you sat back up with the baby cradled in your arms, Finn had a pair of scissors in his hand, he cut the cord and then began to clean the baby with the towel that was previously laid out.

You reached for the soft blanket that had belonged to Finn as a baby and wrapped the newborn up carefully.

“She’s perfect.”

You nodded in agreement, “she has your nose.” You smiled widely and stroked the small baby’s nose gently. The action caused the baby’s face to scrunch up- which in turn caused the young parents to laugh and smile in awe.

Finn softly kissed your temple and whispered sweet nothings to you, as you just leant back into his embrace.

The birth was finally catching up with you. You were so tired, and you soon felt yourself drift off into a deep slumber.

Finn took the baby into his arms and gently lifted her down into the bassinet, she mewled in protest to being put down.

The thought made him smile, the fact that his baby was already attached to his parents.

He proceeded to lift the sheets and blankets over your body, giving you warmth while you slept.

Finn then once again enveloped his baby girl into his arms, as he held her up against his chest.

He didn’t know he could be so capable of loving someone like this.

The quiet bliss was soon broken as Polly and Ada burst into the room each of their arms held bags.

“Aunt Pol?”

“What’s the bloody hell is going on?” Polly ranted on, “Your brothers said-“ The older woman stopped mid-sentence as the baby let out a little squeak. Almost as if she were announcing her presence.

“Aunt Pol, Ada- I’d like you to meet the newest member of the Shelby family. this is Theiadora Elizabeth Shelby. Theia for short.”

Polly looked close to tears and the younger of the two women gasped.

“You named ‘er after mum?”

Finn nodded in response.

“And this,” he motioned to your sleeping figure, “is my girl, Y/N.”

Finn just looked towards the two most important people in the world. He softly stroked his child’s face as he bent down to kiss her face.

“Welcome to the Shelby family, Theia.”

—

It was a few days later, both you and the baby were doing good. Finn barely put Theia down, it was evident that even at a few days old- she was a complete daddy’s girl.

Which you found completely unfair considering what your body had put up with for her to even be here.

But you soon got over the minor bitterness that you had felt ,when you woke up to the sight of your boyfriend cradling Theia’s small body and vowing to always protect her.

You’d gotten close to the Shelby ladies in the past few days too. Polly brought fresh food round every few mornings and usually stayed for a cup of tea if Finn was around.

And then there was the Shelby sister, though you had only known Ada for a few days, she’d become your biggest supports next to Finn.

She’d try and come over everyday, bringing her son, Karl with her.

You were thankful for her presence and she made you feel reassured, like you actually knew what you were doing.

Finn had told you that it was because Ada had been in the same boat as you, that she too had been a young mum.

But you knew it was only a matter of time until you were officially introduced to the Shelby family. So when Ada turned up to you and Finns home, you were understandably taken by surprise.

“Ada, is this really necessary?” You asked as you cradled the small baby in your arms. Theia was snoozing and even at a few days old she produced little snores like her father did.

Ada just continued to pin back your hair, “Yes, you have to meet my brothers. So does little Theia.” She paused, sensing your uneasiness, “It’ll go smoothly Y/N, Finn would never put you or Thee into harms way.”

Her words soothed your queries about this introduction. She was right. Finn had promised to protect you both from harm.

And you knew he wasn’t one to break a promise.

—

Finn had already gone to Polly’s house to help set up for dinner- as he knew that the others wouldn’t.

It also gave him time to explain to Polly about why he had kept his girls a secret (Which she had been quite furious about.)

“Why didn’t you tell me? This family does not keep secrets.”

Finn didn’t have an answer to that, he just shrugged.

“How long have you been together”

“Nearly two years.”

The questions kept coming

“Where did you meet?”

“She was tutoring Katie with Maths, I walked into the kitchen and found ‘em doin’ algebra.”

This went on for some time, until Polly finally asked.

“Do you love her?”

“More than anything.”

The sweet conversation was interrupted by the boisterous banter between his older brothers.

John grinned at him, seemingly proud that he finally knew the secret that his younger brother had been keeping to himself.

“How’s fatherhood treating you, Aye Finn?”

Polly smacked her nephew around the head, “Mother and baby are healthy- If you must know.”

“And what are their names?” Tommy’s cool, calculating voice queried from the stairwell.

“The-“

“Theia Elizabeth Shelby.” A female voice beat Finn to the answer. Looking up he saw you holding the baby in your arms, Ada and Karl next to you. “And I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

You walked over to where Finn was situated and he wrapped his arms around your middle. The tiny baby in your arms was snoozing, and like her father when asleep, had no intention of waking up for a while.

The other Shelby’s looked on as Finn doted on his girls, making sure that they had made the trip safely and asking about other minor details that Tommy, John and Arthur would never have thought to ask their ladies.

“You look familiar.”

You looked over to see who had spoken, John sat on one of the rickety kitchen chairs, starring inquisitively at you.

“Where’ve I seen you before?”

Ada smacked her brother across the back of his head, this caused a yelp to arise from the man.

“‘the fuck was that for?”

Ada just rolled her eyes, “She’s not from a whorehouse if that’s what you’re thinking John.”

The comment didn’t go unnoticed by Finn, who’s face had flushed in anger at the idea of John possibly trying to call the mother of his child a whore.

You laid a hand on his shoulder, “I used to tutor some of your children. Help ‘em with school work or any stuff they may have missed out on.”

Tommy spoke up from his spot in the kitchen, “so you’re a teacher, aye?”

You blinked, “No, I just tutor and occasionally look after children from around the area.”

“Is it good pay?”

You were once again taken aback, “Pardon?”

Tommy repeated himself, “I said is it good pay?”

You couldn’t quite see what the outcome of this conversation was, but you could see the cogs moving in his head.

You cleared your throat, “I don’t get paid Mr Shelby, I do it all voluntarily.” You stared at him blankly, “A lot of the families around Small Heath don’t have the money to pay me for what I do. Besides I’ve always said that support from others shouldn’t come at a price.”

Polly and Ada nodded approvingly, while Finn just looked at you with adoration.

“‘ow old are you then.” John popped up this time.

“I’m-“

“She’s 17, seven months younger than me.” Finn quipped, curling a few strands of your hair around his fingers.

“And how long ‘ave you been with our Finn?”

“Just over two years.” You answered the questions.

“Where’d you grow up, I don’t recall seeing you around Small Heath?”

“I-“

“Bloody Hell boys,” Ada huffed as she set Karl down on the small armchair in the corner of the room, “What is this? An interrogation?”

You shot Ada a thankful look, the questions were beginning to make you feel slightly overwhelmed and out of your depth.

The slumbering babe in your arms began to squirm around, as she started to awaken. Theia let out a small series of yawns, before her face scrunched up and her eyes slowly opened.

The whole room fell into a hushed silence as they watched in awe.

“She has your eyes Finn, lad.” Arthur spoke from his position by the mantle.

“Yeah, she’s pretty perfect.” He replied.

Tommy stepped forwards glass of gin in his grasp, “Aye well let’s say a toast to the newest Shelby!”

They all raised a glass and together chanted in tandem, “to the newest Shelby.”

You looked up to the Shelby you had fallen in love with all those years ago- he pressed a kiss to your lips.

Life felt good- life was good.

[dcbbw]

Six Sentence Sunday

Thanks for the tag, @ao719​!! With Election Day Tuesday and work kicking into even higher gear this week, no promises on when any of my WIPs will be touched. I am writing this evening, so hopefully something gets posted this week. 

This week’s sneak peeks are under the cut, and please heed the warnings for the last snippet (UnRomance, Chapter 10) 

Dress Up (Kinktober, Day 17)

Riley looked at him with eyes dark with desire and clouded with wariness. “No sex!”

“I know,” Liam nodded.

“You think I’m silly.”

Liam shook his head. “No. You’ve been hurt. I’m fine with going slowly.”

Riley kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you. I just … I wanna get it right this time.”

“Me too.” His fingers raked through her hair.

Liam shrugged out of his shirt; Riley walked backwards to her bed; the backs of her legs hit the edge and she sat down. Her eyes were glued on Liam’s body the entire time. She grinned when she saw his boxers matched his socks. His eyes caught her smile, and he looked at her sheepishly.

“If you tell anyone about this …” he warned.

“What? That you have more than sock game going on?” she teased.

“Oh, I have plenty of game, Riley B.”

Marked (Kinktober, Day 18)

Olivia’s fingernail unconsciously traced the scar that lay beneath her clothing. On the royals’ wedding night, she had been stabbed by her husband; a husband no one had bothered to inform her about. Olivia had willingly taken wound to protect Liam. To save Liam’s life.

Liam knew it. Oliva knew it. Riley did not.

Both the King and Duchess said Olivia’s bravery was for Cordonia.

Yet, she was still whispered a traitor.

Yet, Liam never once acknowledged her feelings towards him.

Sometimes, Cordonia sucked.

She set her fork on her plate and pushed her chair back. She gave a brief smile to the table. “Exciting news, indeed! I’ll be returning to my compartment now; I didn’t rest well last night and want as much energy as possible for Paris.”

There were distant nods of acknowledgement; once again, Queen Riley was the center of attention.

The tapping of Olivia’s stilettos was muted as she walked briskly down the aisle of the carpeted train car. She was pressing the oversized button to open the car door in front of her when she heard his ragged breathing, smelled the pine and leather of his cologne.

Drake Walker.

 Betrayal, Part 2—Vengeful Thoughts

Barthelemy drank deeply of the bourbon in the glass he held in his hand. Gray eyes locked with gray eyes. Barthelemy’s eyes traveled over Bertrand appraisingly before speaking.

“Tomorrow, I am giving an announcement to the country. You, that commoner bitch, and your bastard child will be there with me, offering the full support of House Beaumont.”

Bertrand’s face flushed as his hands curled into fists. “You will NOT speak of my WIFE AND CHILD that way!”

His father pushed the Duke aside as he strode across the room. Barthelemy’s fingers traced the spines of the books housed in the built-in mahogany bookshelves. “Lythikos did not go as planned; I have planted the seeds of doubt and driven a wedge between the Crown and the Duchess. But I need to ensure that I obtain the unanimous vote of all the Great Houses, including this one.”

“As the Duke of Ramsford, my allegiance lies with the Crown. Their Majesties have brought both peace and prosperity to all of Cordonia, not just a select few.”

Barthelemy’s fingers fell from the books; he shoved both hands in his pant pockets. When he spoke, his voice was low and his tone flat.

“You are only Duke because I was unable to fulfill my duties as a result of  the downturn of my health. But I’m back, son. Now, either you and your band of misfits support me, or you are ALL out on your pathetic asses once I reclaim my rightful title. And before you run and tell your little friends about this, just remember: the Rys Queens love their tea. To death.”

 UnRomance, Chapter 9

Riley rushes to her friend, wrapping an arm around Nita’s shoulder as the short blonde cries into Riley’s black dress. Sam doesn’t even spare his lover a glance as he follows Sofia and Robin out the door. I am unsure if I am angry or amused at Sam.

For certain, I am unsurprised by the way everything went down: Sam has always been a greedy, selfish bastard. He doesn’t believe in the give and take; he offers women nothing but dick pics, barely there promises, and half-hearted sex. No gifts, no quid pro quo. I am also not surprised he paid Nita no attention; he’s weak and afraid of confrontation.

I am angry because now Riley is being a friend and my day-long fantasies are thwarted. But it’s a stairwell; I can take her in one anytime. Besides, I am now wondering if this could work out to my advantage; Riley doesn’t want to be shared with another man, but we have never discussed other women. I could care less about Nita’s embarrassment and heartbreak. I do care how I can turn it to my advantage.

Nita is emotionally vulnerable. She trusts Riley.

Riley is in love with me. She trusts me.

If I play my cards correctly, this could be the most satisfying Sunday afternoon I’ve had in a long, long time.

Games--UnRomance, Chapter 10 (also for Kinktober, Day 26)

Trigger warning: Pet play and noncon (there isn’t going to be a safe space in this fic)

We make our way slowly down the hall; our destination is the living room. He jerks the leash, encouraging me to keep up with him. He looks back at me with a smirk on his face. “Come along, Josephine. I have a treat for you when we get to the living room.”

He sits on the sofa, his legs spread. He lays back, a lazy smile on his face. “Wag your tail.”

I shake my hips and buttocks. He pats my head. “Good girl.”

“Sit.”

I rest back on my haunches. He nods in approval and satisfaction.

“Bark.”

My lips press together tightly. I don’t want to do that. I shake my head. He raises an eyebrow.

“Bark,” he repeats, impatience in his tone.

“I don’t want to play this game anymore,” I speak.

“Riley, I am not going to negotiate with you. Now, you can bark or go fetch the riding crop.”

“NO!” I yell. Why doesn’t he understand that I don’t want to do this anymore?

“I don’t like this anymore, Liam.”

His expression is now bored, but his eyes glitter. I feel the slightest lick of fear in my stomach.

He presses his palms together and laces his fingers.

“Go get the belt.”

I begin to rise, but he raises his hand. “You will crawl everywhere until I give you permission to stand. Now, go get the belt.”

I look at him confused. I open my mouth to speak, but again, he stops me.

“The game isn’t over. Now, be a good bitch and fetch me my belt. And don’t make me repeat myself.”

 I’ll tag @sirbeepsalot​ @bebepac​ @glaimtruelovealways​

[bubble-tea-bunny]

until you count all the petals 

[sylvain gautier x reader]

author’s note: this is the third fic in a row that has to do w flowers and i promise that was a coincidence lol. inspired by my favorite song from my favorite group :’)

word count: 8,176

i. the sky is blue and we’re over

Sylvain’s not sure what he would call the two of you.

He tends not to label things, never much a fan of assigning names, and it’s because labels imply a degree of certainty, of commitment; commitments that came with consequences if it all went south. Strings are too messy, and, he reasons, why bother with snipping them when he could avoid getting wrapped up in them to begin with? Love’s a ball of yarn but he’s not a cat.

With these factors taken into consideration, he finds himself startled, shocked even, like lightning has shot through his veins, to realize on a nondescript afternoon with the sun high in the sky and a gently billowing breeze, that you’re different. It is especially surprising because he arrives at this conclusion while he’s alone. This wasn’t an instance where the guy looks at the girl, really looks at her, and suddenly his chest tightens and he swallows hard because the light shines on her differently now and he knows with certainty—she’s the one.

For Sylvain, it’s the flowers. He’s in the greenhouse and there are sunflowers being cultivated in one of the planters. They’re a new addition, but day by day their stems have grown, shooting up from the soil, like hands reaching for the sky. Their golden petals open, and he swears that corner of the greenhouse feels the slightest bit warmer from the multiple tiny suns. It’s when he sees them and that warmth rushes over him that he is reminded of how he feels when you’re around. And he likes it, wants to feel this way forever, and he wonders if this is the sensation of strings wrapping around his heart.

The sound of his name pulls his attention from the sunflowers and he spots you walking into the greenhouse, a wide smile on your pretty face. But sunflower or smile, smile or sunflower, Sylvain is inclined to think they are the exact same.

He meets you in the middle and offers you his arm. As you exit the greenhouse, absentmindedly you wonder if your favorite shop in the nearby town has your favorite pastry in stock today (they rotate their menu). Why don’t we go check? he asks, and you’re quick to agree. The way your eyes light up is cute.

Sylvain is still hesitant to make any sort of decision as to where your relationship stands, because you have avoided putting a name to it too, but, at the very least, he could say that the two of you are… something more.

Your favorite shop does indeed have your favorite pastry available, and you barely stop yourself from buying three. Sylvain laughs and says he’ll buy three if you want, but you resolve to start with one, and if you’re still craving them, you’d get back in line for more. But both of you know that you will. And so does the baker. This isn’t your first time there. After the food is paid for, he lowers his voice and says he’ll keep two extra in the back for you. This particular baked good is popular, and you’re grateful for the kind gesture.

The gooey frosting sticks to your lips with every bite and your tongue slips out to lick it off. You hold out the pastry to Sylvain, a wordless offer for him to take a bite since he hadn’t gotten anything for himself, but he shakes his head. His own sweet tooth is more than satisfied by you. That’s what he tells you, and he can’t help but laugh when you roll your eyes and lightly punch his shoulder from across the small table. Then he’s reaching out to you, using his thumb to swipe the bit of frosting at the corner of your mouth that you’d missed. He brings it up to his mouth and the sugar melts pleasantly on his tongue. The blush dusting your cheeks reminds him of cherries.

You discuss everything from training and sore muscles to gossip from around the monastery. Sylvain shares the scoop on who’s dating who, and you listen attentively, head occasionally tilting and eyes occasionally widening to learn of unlikely pairs. Some you doubt the validity of, but he promises it’s all true. You sit quietly in thought, gaze dropping to the two pastries on your plate. Huh, you mutter, envisioning one couple specifically that you found hard to believe. Who would have thought?

Sylvain has his head resting on his propped up hand, watching you in amusement. Movement from over your shoulder draws his focus up, and there’s a woman exiting the antique shop next to the bakery. She’s coming this way along the sidewalk, and their eyes meet, and the grin he flashes is instinctual. The response he is met with he is very much accustomed to, her own eyes momentarily diverting, a sudden shyness overcoming her, before she slips him one more quick glance with a tiny smile, and then she’s walked past, continuing on her way.

He turns back to you, but you’re already watching him, and his brows furrow in confusion when you say you’re not really hungry anymore and suggest you head back. He’s even more confused when, instead of gathering up the pastries to bring back to the monastery, as you typically do, you take them over to the next table and ask if the people there want them.

After giving them away, you join him where he’s waiting on the sidewalk. You don’t reach for his hand on the walk back, so he reaches for yours, but it’s a few seconds before your fingers curl to properly grip his. A subtle delay, but unusual enough for him to notice immediately. The sudden change in mood makes him feel like he’s been spun in circles. He doesn’t understand what’s going on, but he wishes he did.

His wish is granted upon your arrival back at the monastery. The sun is setting and the lake glitters with the last of the daylight. It’s romantic, and he’s about to stop you by the docks, turn to you and steal a kiss in the peacefulness of dusk and run a hand through your hair, soft locks the golden rays of golden hour because this time of day doesn’t look this good on anyone else. Not the way it does on you. But you’re the one to stop first, and his strides are halted by your linked hands.

Your fingers loosen but his hold on your hand keeps you connected, and he’s still smiling like nothing’s wrong. It’s when you don’t reciprocate that it drops and he asks what’s wrong.

And it’s not quite what he wants to hear when you say I don’t know. Surely there was a reason to explain your listlessness. Something like that doesn’t just spring up from nowhere. But what could it be, that you can’t really put it in words? Concern starts to creep up his spine like an unwelcome winter chill, and your hand slipping out of his now slack grip to drop back to your side does the talking for you.

Quietly he says your name, an upward inflection towards the end like it’s a question. You’re staring at your shoes and he’s staring at the crown of your head and even for his worries about what’s happening, what you might say, he can’t shake the thought of fashioning you a crown of flowers.

“What are we, Sylvain?” you finally inquire.

Pulled from his train of thought, Sylvain blinks. “What do you mean?”

“This.” You motion between you both. “You and me… Are we just a temporary fling?”

The mere suggestion stings and Sylvain shakes his head. “What? No—”

“Then are we together?”

The implications of the question catch him off guard. He’d always thought you were on the same page: no labels, no titles, no boyfriend and girlfriend. Just… you and him. Nothing more, nothing less. But your impatience is clear as day with how you cut him off, and he still doesn’t understand why you’re bringing this up. But he knows you’re aware of his hesitation to call things like this by name, and you’d been fine to follow along until this moment, so he’s slow to respond to your loaded question.

“Hey, come on,” he murmurs, taking a half step forward to be closer. “You know you’re the only one for me.” He’s skirting around giving a direct answer, and hopes that you leave it at that, but you don’t, and when he tries to reach for your hand, you take a half step back to be farther away.

“Do I?”

The doubt present in your tone stops him short, and whatever else he might’ve said dies in his throat. Your frustrations are becoming more apparent as the conversation moves along, your eyes shining from the sunset and cutting through him like newly forged steel. Sylvain wracks his brain for what could have been responsible for the soured mood, entirely unlike the atmosphere of this afternoon.

“Is this… because of earlier?” he asks uneasily.

You don’t say anything, but your lack of reply lets him know he’s right. He scoffs like it’s a silly concern, smiling to try to allay your irritation. “That was just a quick glance. She didn’t mean anything.”

It’s the wrong answer to an unspoken question. “It’s not the first time you’ve done that.”

“Done what?”

“Flirt endlessly with practically every girl you see!” This is the most emotion you’ve displayed during your talk, your volume rising slightly, and Sylvain’s thankful the two of you are alone so no one hears what has quickly devolved into a full argument. “So no, I don’t know that I’m the only one for you. I can’t know!”

Every word is a punch in the gut and there’s a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. Sylvain’s mouth opens then closes then opens again but nothing comes out and that’s because you both know he has no defense. What you’ve said is true. He’s always flirted, always talked pretty to pretty girls and taken delight in watching them swoon. He likes to have them wrapped around his finger. Not even the less successful attempts, which leave him standing alone, staring at the back of their retreating figure, are enough to discourage him. It’s habit for him to sweet-talk his way into girls’ hearts, to stay there for a few weeks, days, hours, then take his leave and move on.

This habit is precisely what’s jeopardizing whatever sort of relationship he has with you, the prettiest girl of all. And maybe this is one of those stories where the guy looks at the girl, really looks at her, and knows that she’s the one, because it’s been much longer than a few weeks and never has he thought of leaving you behind.

But it’s too little too late as you stare up at him and he feels you drifting farther away despite the physical distance in between.

“What I said to those other girls were just empty words. They don’t matter to me,” he tries to reason. “Not like you do.”

You’re unsatisfied, however, and shake your head.

“Are you really ready for a relationship, Sylvain?” you ask with a hushed tone now, and his heart squeezes when you say his name. “Because I don’t think you are.”

His silence following your declaration is enough to cut the strings, and even if he did have words, you no longer have the patience to hear them.

———

ii. my friends tell me to give up

It’s almost frightening how you’re able to carry on as if he doesn’t exist. Whenever you’re both in a common area, you never so much as glance his way. Sylvain, on the other hand, isn’t coping very well.

Over the ruckus in the dining hall he can pick out your laugh easily, and a part of him deep down perks up the way it had before whenever he heard or saw you. His eyes shoot to where you sit at a table across the room. One of your friends appears to be telling a captivating tale that has you and your fellow housemates thoroughly entertained. Sylvain sees his mouth move but he can’t hear what he’s actually saying that has you all laughing. It’s impossible to hear much aside from clanking silverware and jumbled chatter. Sylvain’s ears have just been trained to listen for you.

The seat to his right is pulled back as Annette sits down with her plate of food, but Sylvain is too preoccupied staring at you to turn and say hello. Annette doesn’t expect any greeting, but she does sigh when she notices where he’s looking. Sylvain hadn’t officially announced what had transpired between you both; such was his prerogative when it came to any relationships. Since nothing was really ever “official,” he explained, there was no official start or end to make note of.

But Annette, as well as their mutual friends in the Blue Lion house, could surmise that whatever he had with you was different, even if he refused to put any sort of name to it. They began to suspect this when one whole moon had passed and you were still on his mind. Typically, the trysts which he discloses with them are with different girls, and there’s always that moment of trying to pair the name with the face before he continues on with the story, lamenting only half-seriously that She’s nice and all, but we just weren’t meant to be. (Not that it would matter much to figure out exactly who the girl of the week was anyway, since they would inevitably repeat this process all over again a few days later.)

When you came into the picture, you were a constant. For a long while at least—a lot longer than any of them gave Sylvain credit for. It’s been Sylvain’s nature to woo multiple girls at once, keeping them separated so as to prevent any conflict of interest, but over time it became noticeable that among the multiple names he would mention, yours came up again and again and again. And his friends began to wonder if you were it for Sylvain, that both of you were, in his words, meant to be, and maybe Sylvain didn’t want to acknowledge it because he didn’t want the commitment that came with it. Or maybe he was genuinely clueless to his own feelings, unfamiliar with love in any sense, especially the deep kind which flourishes in the deep hours of the night, a companion to silence and reflection.

Perhaps it was both, Annette thinks. He was oblivious until one day, something changed (he’d never shared the details, and no one had ever pried), and though he didn’t say it out loud, she noticed the light in his eyes when he talked about you. It was bright, instinctual, and, if she had anything to say about it, was almost love.

Now, Sylvain’s shoulders sag and his head rests on his hand as he watches you, hoping you’ll look this way, and the whole picture is one of dejection. Had the cutting of ties been what it took for his feelings to finally be truly realized? Life could be awfully cruel…

The chair across from Annette is pulled back with a grating scrape, wooden legs against wooden flooring, and Ashe sits down. His eyes are also drawn to Sylvain, as if a dark aura were surrounding him, and he frowns. A quick glance behind him in the direction Sylvain is staring confirms his suspicions immediately, and he bites his lip like he’s holding back words, wanting to speak but hesitating.

Sylvain notices Ashe’s pause and his eyes slide briefly in his direction.

“I know you want to say it, Ashe.” He’s blunt, tone flat. “So say it.”

Ashe releases his bottom lip. “Maybe it’s time to let her go.”

Annette holds her breath following this remark, anxious for Sylvain’s reaction. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous; he won’t get mad or yell. He’s been nothing but despondent since you stopped talking to him a couple of weeks ago, a perpetual raincloud hanging over his head. It did well to sour the mood of anyone who got near him, and if he noticed the effect it was having, he didn’t react or do anything to fix it. Some of those in Blue Lion were patient with him, giving him adequate time to process what happened. (Though what was that exactly? A break-up? It seemed like it, but Sylvain would never call it that.) Others, conversely, were less willing to wait for the storm to pass, hardly fans of being soaked to the bone.

Those who attempted the task of taking Sylvain’s mind off of you were far from successful. Where once mentions of a pretty girl in one of the other houses whom they’d seen glancing his way would cause Sylvain to perk up and seek her out, keen to snatch her heart up, for a day or a week or however long he fancied, such remarks now blew right past him, the faint whistle of a narrowly dodged arrow he doesn’t care enough to search for and see where it landed. The less patient among their friends have, therefore, given up. There could be no use helping someone off the ground if they weren’t looking for assistance.

Annette and Ashe were two people still holding on, but even they are gradually coming to terms with the futility of talking with what might as well be a brick wall. The absolute last resort that would pull Sylvain from his slump is if Dimitri were to say something, particularly in regards to how this is affecting Sylvain’s performance when training. Sylvain’s not at that point (yet?), so Dimitri has remained one of the patient few, but it would be better, of course, to avoid that kind of conversation entirely.

But Sylvain’s too busy running in circles around the thought of you to spot the hand offered to help him stand. He doesn’t say it, but Annette and Ashe don’t need him to because they already know what words refuse to surface: he doesn’t want to let you go.

What he does choose to share aloud is preceded by a sardonic laugh. “It’s ironic,” he starts, “that I’m the one who was dumped.” You’ve turned the tables on him. Does it usually hurt like this?

A singular issue that has remained at the forefront of his dilemma has to do with your own feelings. Was what you felt about him the same as what he still feels for you? His cynical side urges him to reason that no, he was the one making a bigger deal out of this than it was and it’s his fault he’s heartbroken. That’s the only way he could explain why you’re all smiles and laughs in the days that have transpired since the argument, a drop of sunshine warming the earth where you walk. Meanwhile he’s downtrodden in the shade, just a little too far out of your reach.

And yet he can’t shake the notion that you had to have felt just as seriously about your relationship as he had, because your outburst had stemmed from his aversion to exclusivity. Even if you didn’t say it, the problem you took with his coquetry implied your desire for something more too—that being the chance to maybe call him yours, with all the strings and none of the stray glances or flirtatious words shared with other girls. Should this be true, it was still his fault that your relationship is basically in shambles; his propensity to woo and impress with no thought to commitment, no thought to what you might think despite knowing deep down that you were different from the others, had pushed you away. So he’s paying the price. Being nobility means nothing; he’d never have enough money to pay in full for something like this.

Still, he wishes you would look at him, at least once. He feels like a lovesick puppy and maybe he should be embarrassed because as far as anyone else is concerned, he doesn’t get hung up on any one girl for long, but they don’t know you like he does. They don’t know the way you make his stomach do flips or the way your grin has him wrapped around your finger. The more you pass him by, the more he pines for you, and maybe you know and that’s why your eyes never search for his; you’re intent to move on, whatever your feelings for him may have been. The sun’s not fond of rainstorms either.

———

iii. it’s only you for me

Life starts to return to normal, slowly but surely. Sylvain’s in a slump less often these days, and he’s smiling a little more, joking around a little more. Though his training had never suffered after your relationship came to an end, he throws himself into it extra hard now, giving it his all. It’s the ideal distraction, and Dimitri has even commended his discipline and sharp improvement. Annette observes him with a knowing gaze but says nothing. The last thing Sylvain needs in his process of getting over you is to hear your name.

What truly begins to mark the return of the Sylvain they’re all familiar with is his flirtatious remarks with any cute girl that catches his eye. However, for every ounce of his enthusiasm, not everyone is interested (perhaps they’re aware of his track record), but that doesn’t discourage him. Where one might not care to give him the time of day, another is, and he pulls them in with silken praises and honeyed words murmured over the wispy tendrils of steam floating from their cups of tea.

Felix won’t admit that this past moon had been… uncomfortably quiet, with Sylvain in the state he was. It was strange to see his friend so reserved and contained, lost within his own head. Usually Sylvain would talk his ears off (or come very close to doing so) about his shenanigans and all the other monastery gossip Felix never cared to find out about himself. Now that the period of atypical quiet has passed, and Sylvain’s regained his voice and his confidence, well, Felix also won’t admit that he had missed it (but just a little).

Today he is an unintentional witness to Sylvain’s latest efforts of wooing another student; Felix doesn't know who she is, and he doesn’t plan to ask Sylvain later. They’re sitting across from each other at one of the tables in the reception hall, close to the wall. Sylvain’s broad-shouldered figure dwarfs her much smaller form, and Felix can’t see what he’s saying, but based on the girl’s bashful smile she hides behind her hand, it’s a string of saccharine remarks that Felix fears will make his teeth rot should he actually be able to overhear their conversation.

A few seconds is all it takes for Felix to grow tired of this display, and he sighs, prepared to continue his walk in the direction of the training grounds. But it seems the invisible hands which keep the world turning would keep him right where he is, and it’s in a fit of irony that perhaps the one person least interested in Sylvain’s love life also serves as an unintentional witness to his yearning, to his regression, and to his downfall.

Felix sees you around the monastery often, and he only made note of all the times he did after you and Sylvain began to spend time together more consistently. Prior to that, he had no idea who you were. The instances he had spotted you following whatever it was you told Sylvain that had left him so gloomy, were marked by slight confusion, for you carried on as if nothing were wrong, as if you didn’t have that talk and separated yourself from Sylvain entirely. And it left him to wonder, the tiniest bit curious, if maybe you were the one stringing Sylvain along. But for what purpose? To show him how it felt to be picked up, treated like gold, then abandoned in the dust? If so, you were more spiteful than you looked.

The speculation doesn’t make sense if what Sylvain had told him was true. Felix pretends he’s not listening when Sylvain talks about girls, but he is, and he remembers especially what Sylvain said about you. It wasn’t just Sylvain waxing lyrical when he declared that what you felt for each other was different. You were more than just some girl he took a brief interest in, and it was your equally enthusiastic reciprocation of his feelings that made Sylvain start to feel like he could have a real relationship. He never did tend to wear his heart on his sleeve, but with the way he spoke of you, he showed it off proudly. He’s usually guarded enough that Felix took this as a sign that your own feelings really were genuine.

And so, all those factors considered, Felix thinks he’ll never understand how, despite how strongly you had also felt for Sylvain, you are hardly affected by the break-up (Sylvain would never call it that but Felix isn’t blind nor the one in denial). You haven’t met Sylvain’s gaze since then, not once.

Well, until now, as you pass through the reception hall. Perhaps it was an accident, but that’s all it takes for Sylvain to slip back to square one. It’s a quick meeting of the eyes from over the shoulder of the girl Sylvain is talking to, and you never once pause in your steps. You almost look indignant to have caught his attention, inwardly scolding yourself for allowing your eyes to wander.

You walk right past Felix, kicking up a small breeze in your wake due to the hastening of your steps, and Felix looks from you over to Sylvain, who says something to the girl—excusing himself?—before standing up and following after you. He walks fast too, intent to catch up to you, and he doesn’t spare Felix a glance either.

Felix sighs. Oh dear…

Once out of the reception hall, Sylvain looks left and right. He barely catches sight of your figure turning the corner into the garden, and this time he breaks into a run, his wide strides carrying him to you swiftly.

“[Name]!” he calls out, and he doesn’t care for the stares he draws from other students. “Wait!”

You don’t turn around at the sound of your name, and in a desperate attempt to get you to finally look at him, he takes hold of your arm, hoping that you’ll stop. His grip is gentle, and you could easily pull away, but you don’t, and he’s breathing a little harder from the short run but also from the fact you’re standing here, in front of him, watching him and there’s no spark in your eyes like there had been once, but at the moment he’s just happy that you’re looking at him at all.

“What do you want, Sylvain?” you ask quietly.

He swallows, his breath returning to normal, and your eyes slide down to where he’s still holding your arm. His fingers uncurl from around your white long-sleeve and there are small wrinkles where they once were. There’s silence as Sylvain tries to put a sentence together because he realizes he doesn’t have anything to say. He didn’t actually think you would stop. And the longer you stand there, the more he panics, worried that you might leave and he’ll have wasted his chance to get you back.

“I’m sorry.”

He hopes you don’t ask sorry for what because there are so many things, and while part of him is ready to list them, to voice his regret and admit his feelings aloud, thereby undoing all he had ever done to keep himself from getting attached to one person, the other part of him is too scared to do it because he’s never felt like this about anyone and it’s frightening how painfully his chest tightens when you say his name, even when you say it with indifference.

You shake your head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

But there is and somehow it hurts more than you act like there isn’t. Are you really so prepared to move on? Frantically he searches your gaze for any longing or any sign that you don’t want to completely forget about what the two of you had. Surely you had been thinking about him too, in some capacity? Do you miss him at all?

“Please,” he begs, but he can’t begin to properly describe what it is he’s begging for. “Just give me another chance.”

You almost look as if you’re going to say no, your jaw set as you stare up at him. Yet he finds an inkling of hope in your several seconds of silence because you appear to be considering what he has said. His heart is pounding and could this be it? Could you be coming back to him? It might be slow, tentative, but Sylvain will work with that. He will give you your time and space to process, and he won’t mess up again.

You break eye contact to glance to your right, in the direction of the gazebo, and it’s a signal for Sylvain that his hope was probably too ambitious. To decide on something like that right now was unrealistic, and his impatience gnaws at him but he meant it when he said he would give you space.

“Can we talk about this another time? I have to meet someone.”

Another time. Sylvain nods his head a little too eagerly. “Yeah. Of course.”

You give him a time and place and when he says goodbye, you only halfheartedly respond with a wave. He remains where he is as you walk the rest of the way to the gazebo in the center of the garden and slide into the chair across from a guy Sylvain doesn’t recognize. At the sight of you both, his stomach feels heavy and his shoulders sag and maybe you don’t miss him.

———

iv. until you count all the petals

Sylvain arrives ten minutes early.

He understands why you chose this spot. It’s far from wandering eyes, the only people likely to come this way being the guards as they make their rounds. It stings a little to be treated as something to be hidden away, but he doesn’t blame you for it. If anyone aware of what had happened between you were to spot you together, it would only invite questions you might not be keen to answer.

What exactly were your expectations for the conversation you will have? Sylvain knows what his are, but from what he can tell thus far with the way you have chosen to handle this, picking a quiet place to talk, your own are the complete opposite. If you wanted to avoid anyone seeing you, then that implies you have no intention of taking him back. Otherwise, you would have no problem if the whole academy were to observe you together.

With a huff, Sylvain shakes his head in an attempt to rid himself of these negative thoughts. Be all that as it may, he wouldn’t set himself up for failure by overthinking and acting paranoid. Even if his assumptions are correct, he would still do his best to change your mind. He’s coming to you as a different person now, one that is sure of his feelings and, for the first time in his life, ready to put a name to what you two have because it is different and it’s special and the biggest regret Sylvain has is that he hadn’t realized it sooner. He wishes he hadn’t been so afraid to accept it.

The minutes tick by and he grows increasingly nervous. He hadn’t exactly prepared a speech beforehand, and usually he’s good at winging speeches, especially the flowery kind, designed to tug the heartstrings, but he doubts that will cut it this time. There are many things he wants to say, and there isn’t a lot of time to say them. All that he feels for you is an incoherent jumble, too strong to constrain to concise sentences and he wants to show you, not tell you. He wants you to understand the depth of his affection through the gentle graze of his fingertips along your skin, through his pounding heart as he holds you close, your ear to his chest. And he wonders if you’ll get it then, that you’re the first girl to render him speechless.

“Sylvain.”

As if shocked, Sylvain twists around. He hadn’t heard you approach. You’re standing a few feet away, hands clutched behind your back, a polite stance like you’re talking to a stranger. He doesn’t say anything immediately, unsure of how to greet you or if he should greet you. Should he just get into his spiel? But then he remembers the bouquet he’s clutching because your eyes are drawn to it, and he notes with embarrassment that in his absentminded pondering, he’d been squeezing the stems. Luckily none are bent out of shape, and he holds the flowers out to you.

“I got you these.” Smooth, Sylvain.

Your blink and tilt your head, confused as to why he would present you with a gift when the conversation you’re about to have hardly merits one, but you accept it anyway, graceful as always. “… Thank you.”

You bring them up closer to your face so you can smell them, and Sylvain’s smile is hidden behind the flowers. When you lower them again, you inform him you can’t stay for long. You’re meeting someone in the library to work on an assignment, and he’d like to know if that someone is the guy he saw you having tea with the other day, but he keeps silent about that. Perhaps you do have somewhere to be, or perhaps you don’t and you’re lying because you just don’t want to talk to him more than necessary. Either way, Sylvain is strapped for time, and he needs to make the best of it.

“I won’t be long,” he promises. “Just… until you count all the petals.”

And that wouldn’t take long at all. The petals of the flowers he gave you are large, and easily counted. Upon this remark, the corner of your mouth lifts in an almost-smile, and your focus shifts downwards to the flowers you hold. He can’t tell if you’re counting but doesn’t stop to ask.

Instead, he starts to spill his heart out to you. “I messed up big time, I know. And I meant it when I said I’m sorry. I should’ve been less afraid to accept what I felt for you.”

You purse your lips and look up at him. Quietly, you inquire, “What do you feel for me?”

Sylvain can feel his pulse pounding in his ears. You’re watching him closely, but it’s not scrutinizing or investigative, simply… curious. Curious to know if he’ll actually say it now, if your feelings had been valid and he had genuinely felt the same because when you called everything off, it certainly didn’t feel like he did, and he hates that he put you through that kind of heartbreak. You were the last person to deserve that, and the gravity of his series of screw-ups settle heavy on his shoulders now. This is his last chance to redeem himself, if you would even grant him that.

Though he understands this, the words don’t leave him easily, the final struggle in breaking past the walls he has created for himself. His mouth opens then closes, nothing coming out at first. He’s trying to find the words and you’re a patient person, but it doesn’t extend that far with him, not anymore, and he understands that too. No answer would still be an answer, and as his silence stretches on, you too open your mouth to speak, perhaps to say a farewell for good. That one second feels like eternity and the dreadful thought of you walking away now is what breaks down those barriers, and he’s desperately reaching out for you where you stand on the other side.

“I love you.”

Your mouth promptly shuts, and now you’re the one who’s speechless. He’d actually said it. The surprise on your face betrays the fact you really didn’t think he would, and to be honest, he’s a bit surprised too. Never has he confessed something so heartfelt to another, preferring to keep away from anything that intimate. Such a statement isn’t to be taken lightly, and he has always understood its importance, of what it means to say that to someone with such conviction that the heart squeezes so hard it begins to crack. It’s to this that he owes his sudden shortness of breath in the following quiet, waiting apprehensively for any sort of response.  

You don’t reply with words first. There are subtle changes written upon your face, whether or not you notice. Your features soften, your eyes not as guarded as they were, and he has greatly missed the fondness which settles in them. Eternal summer rests deep in his soul and you’re the sun that will never set. Your eyelashes kiss the smooth skin of your cheeks as you glance down. Now poised for a reply, your mouth opens, lips glistening, and he would like very much to kiss them. But that’s a mere passing thought and he remains in place, bracing himself, crossing his fingers for the best while mentally steeling himself for the worst.

Please say you love me too.

“Fifty-eight.”

That certainly didn’t sound like I love you too.

Sylvain’s brows furrow. “What?”

You lift your gaze to him. “There are fifty-eight petals.”

Well, it was a response. Not one Sylvain had wanted, but it was better than none at all, and you’d upheld your end of the agreement: you listened until you counted every petal.

He tries not to make his disappointment visible but you know him so well you can detect the smallest cues. His eyes break contact with yours, and for a moment it looks like you’re going to say something, at best a reciprocation of his affection, at worst a rejection of it, but you stop yourself, glancing down at the bouquet.

“I… I have to get going,” you state instead.

Sylvain nods. “Right.”

You part ways with awkward waves, and you don’t say See you later. It might be reasonable to assume that this is your way of telling him you don’t feel the same way, that it ends here and it ends for real, but he doesn’t make that assumption. There aren’t fifty-eight petals. There are seventy-two. He counted them earlier. You’d mentioned a random number, and if you hadn’t counted, that meant you’d been willing to listen from the start. Perhaps you weren’t as antsy to get away as he had previously assumed, and you had wanted to hear what he had to say.

He stares after your retreating figure but he doesn’t feel dread to see you walking away, flowers in hand. His breaths feel lighter, coming to him easier, and maybe he’d convinced you, or at the very least, is on his way to doing so. In any case, he would gladly wait, allowing you all the time you need to think.

———

v. prettier than a flower, she left

He hears you before he sees you.

You’ve just finished with choir practice and you call out a goodbye to your friend, who’s decided to stay behind in the cathedral for a bit longer. You, on the other hand, are striding past the tall and wide open wooden doors, the gentle wind today ruffling your clothes as you step outside. The air is cool and you don’t notice him standing there.

Sylvain’s off to the side of the entrance to the cathedral, leaning on the brick wall. He grins in amusement when he discovers you haven’t spotted him. He stares at your back for a few moments but doesn't let you get very far before he’s speed walking to catch up to you. His shoes clack quietly on the cobblestone but you don’t have time to react to the noise before he’s taken hold of your arm to grab your attention.

You gasp in surprise and turn around, eyes wide, and once you register who has stopped you, you let out a deep breath and set your free hand over your heart.

“Sylvain!” you exclaim. “You scared me!”

Sylvain laughs and continues to laugh even after you playfully hit him on the shoulder, so lightly that he very well could have imagined it if he hadn’t just watched you do it. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.” With the hand still wrapped around the crook of your elbow he tugs you close, and because you aren’t prepared for this, you stumble forward and fall against his chest. You collide with a quiet oof!

“What happened to us meeting at the reception hall?” you ask, and as you do, you brace your palms against his chest to try to push away and increase distance, at least to give you adequate space to tilt your head back to look at him, but he’s got both arms wrapped around you now, and given that he’s stronger, he doesn’t budge.

You give up and stop your pushing, and he chuckles at your small whine of defeat. “I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

“I was going straight there. It’s a five minute walk.” Accepting that so long as Sylvain wanted to hold you like this, you would remain right where you are, you bring your own arms around his torso. You’re careful not to dig your fingers into the fabric of his blazer, not wanting to wrinkle it.

“Five minutes is too long when I could just wait for you here.”

He almost sounds offended that you imply that he could possibly wait for an extra five minutes before he could see you again, and it’s your turn to laugh. “So needy,” you tease.

Sylvain won’t deny it. There’s nothing to hide and by this point, the whole academy is aware of your relationship. You’re part of the monastery gossip now, the likes of which you enjoy talking about while sitting outside the bakery in town. Before, he might have resented the idea of being so openly wrapped around a girl’s finger, because that was supposed to be his thing. Sylvain didn’t get tied down to just one person. But before, he also hadn’t fully realized what he was missing.

He’d rearrange the stars for you, would scoop them from the sky to stick to the ceiling of your room if you asked him to, so sweetly with that sweet voice of yours. And maybe in thanks you would sing him to sleep, gently running your fingers through his hair and he’d drift off wondering how he he could be this lucky, to be in love with the moon and to be loved back.

His attention no longer strays to other girls, and for many at the academy, this is a complete turnaround from when he could hardly keep his attention on just one. So if anyone were to remark that he seems different now, or tease him with a Who are you and what have you done with Sylvain or some such joke, he won’t argue against it or act like this is merely temporary. You’re not temporary. And he’s less inclined to say that the way he is now is “different.” It’s more that he knows himself better these days, and knows that life is better with you.

Neither of you has kept track of how long you’re standing there, and Sylvain is only pulled from his thoughts by you asking him to let go so you can start the walk to town. You like when he holds you, you tell him, but the day and all its sunshine is too beautiful to waste just staying here.

Sylvain nuzzles your hair and smiles and he’s certain you can feel it. His arms around you loosen, but you don’t immediately pull back, as if you can sense he still has things he wants to say, murmured against your form so the wind can’t eavesdrop. He murmurs that he loves you, and it comes out so easily that it’s a wonder that there was once a time he’d struggled to share those words with you.

You lean back slightly to look up at him and even in the shade they are bright and glittering. Your mouth curls into a beautiful grin that he’d like to kiss. He bends down, closing the distance, and as you’re about to meet he thinks he feels you say it back—I love you—whispered in one quick and silent breath, a burst of heat against his lips.

“Sylvain?”

What? Were you saying that?

“Sylvain.”

It didn’t sound like you. But then… where was that coming from? Who was calling him?

“Sylvain, wake up.”

Wake… up?

Sylvain’s eyes slide open and through blurry vision that has yet to come into focus, he spots Ashe stand on the opposite side of the long dining table, leaning forward and bracing himself on the dark wooden tabletop. Sylvain groans and sits up, stretching out his spine after having fallen asleep in a position that wasn’t the most comfortable. Ashe’s smile is sympathetic, sorry that he had to wake him up. He was sleeping rather heavily.

“We have to get to class,” Ashe tells him. “The next lesson is starting soon.”

The hustle and bustle of the dining hall corroborates his statement. The students who had lingered and spent the entirety of their lunch period here are cleaning up, and a chorus of chairs being pushed back into place echoes through the room. With a huff, equal parts one of inconvenience at having to get up and one of disappointment that he’d simply been dreaming, Sylvain stands up and follows Ashe outside.

The weather has taken a turn for the gloomy. A thick blanket of clouds paints the sky gray, and it’s the sort of overcast sky that’s difficult to look at. Ashe wonders aloud if it might rain, but Sylvain has no response to offer. He’s still trying to regain his bearings in time for lecture, but it’s slow progress when he’s still hung up on his dream. It had felt so real, and that’s what hurts the most. For a moment, he almost believed that everything had worked out, and he wishes that he could’ve remained forever within his own head, suspended in time, where that short and blissful period could stretch to eternity.

As per usual, no matter the amount of noise, the level of commotion as students scramble to get to their classrooms, Sylvain can hear your laugh above it all. His eyes find you walking across the courtyard, uncaring for the possibility of raindrops falling from the sky.

You’re with that guy again; you have been more often as of late. Sylvain never did catch his name. He must’ve said something funny because you grin widely, looking up at him with a sense of admiration Sylvain can pick up effortlessly despite the distance. He knows that what you must feel for him is real, that what you feel for him is something like love, if not love itself, because you used to look at him that way.

You hadn’t given him a direct response after his confession, and he hadn’t pressured you for one, not wanting to risk pushing you away further. But his heartfelt admission mattered little because he truly had been too late, for you’d been swept off your feet by another, and the most you could give by way of apology was a final glance when Sylvain saw you both, arm in arm, walking to the front gates of the monastery to take the path into town. It was a shock, certainly, that it was you who initiated eye contact, but it was your merciful goodbye. You’re always sweet like that, even as you break his heart.

Sylvain’s gaze slides from your faces down to your linked hands, and it’s the last he sees of you two before you disappear into your lecture hall. He’s close behind Ashe as they step out into the courtyard, and Ashe exclaims he thinks a raindrop hit his head. While his pace quickens, Sylvain’s stays the same, and he takes a hand out of his pocket to hold it out.

A drop of rain falls into his palm, and then another, and he’d really like a sunflower right about now.

[malethirsty]

The Master & The Prinxe - Seth Rollins & Finn Balor

Summary: Seth Rollins has been the lightning rod of anger from the WWE Universe and it’s starting to affect him. After Kevin Owens insults him by bringing up The Shield, Seth is at his breaking point. However the arrival of a friend from another brand throws everything up in the air.

Warnings: M/M smut (21+), Violence

Authors Note: This was a fic I had posted on my personal account @thesimonkshow​, reposted here because this is where my M/M fics go. 

Seth Rollins was in a bad mood. He had just confronted Kevin Owens about his defection to NXT at War Games & he retaliated by bringing up Seth betraying The Shield, which had happened once, incomparable to the opposing RAW team members consistent level of betrayal, which seemed to happen every other day.

He didn’t notice the pacing of feet as someone sat down besides him “Well hey there Seth. Someone got you hot and bothered?” Seth turned to see Finn Bálor, his friend & also a member of the NXT team this evening. “And why would I tell you?, you’d only use it to further your team.” “Now why would I do something like that? I may be on their team, but you & I run deeper than this match.” Finn responded. Seth sighed, it seemed he would be safe. “Fucking Kevin Owens, I brought up War Games, cause I was worried about our team that I have pit my grieviances aside for, and that bitch brings up me betraying The Shield, when he’s on Betrayal number who fucking knows?” Finn chuckled “That little cunt wouldn’t know loyalty even if it decked him in the face.” Seth let out a gutteral laugh, somehow things felt better when he was with Finn. They had grown close when they first feuded, the connection deepening when they would face The Miz for the Intercontinental Championship, Seth even considered making him a Shield member, maybe something even more, but anytime he thought about it, his mind returned to Dean & he pushed the thought away.

“It seems like your putting your reputation on the line for people who couldn’t give a shit about you. They just throw you away like you’re nothing. I remember when I faced The Fiend, everyone wanted me to lose, I was so alone, so unhappy. And when I lost I heard the audience cheer & I felt so full of rage, like darkness just filled me. I waited for my moment to strike, and when it came, I ripped Johnny Gargano from limb to limb, I became The Prinxe.” Seth listened to Finn entranced by the Irishman’s words, he felt the same way, he’d tried to stand for the lockerroom, for Vince, for WWE, but found himself hated and despised. Legends had tried to stand up for Seth like Bret Hart, but their appreciation did the exact opposite of what was intended. Hell In A Cell was both a release of that tension but also rock bottom, the hatred became like acid, attacks on him became more frequent. After emerging from that damn hole after being attacked by The Fiend at the draft, he had felt humiliated, but that quickly turned to rage, he had felt that same anger Finn felt.

“Yeah, I know what you mean, after everything that has happened, when I beat Bray up & set fire to his house, I felt so good, like at WrestleMania where I won the Universal Championship. I felt like Seth Rollins again.” “When Hunter pulled me from the roster & got me back to his brand NXT, I felt like I had just won the Intercontinental title again. So on top of the world, even though I should have known I was all along, I just needed that push.” Seth paid attention to every word Finn said, it felt as if his friend knew his struggle & was giving his hand to help, the only person he cared about was giving him a way out. “Listen, I have to get back to my team, but I heard you weren’t gonna be wearing your RAW shirt, so if you choose, I got you something more your style. See you out there.” He pushed a package into Seth’s hand, grinned and set off. Seth opened the package, making sure no one was looking & grinned, he knew what he had to do.

The match was fury and fire as expected, Drew scored a big opening by knocking Dominik Dijakovic out in a few moments and to Seth’s delight, Kevin was quickly chucked by Tomasso Ciampa. After a lengthy match, he, Roman & Finn were the only surviviors. He knew Roman would form an alliance with him & sure enough “We take Finn, then you & me” he heard Roman whisper in his ear “Always man” Seth said back, Roman advanced forwards. Seth knew, now was the time.

He raced up behind Roman, low blowing him, putting Roman into a Pedigree & let Finn take him out. The crowd, already hostile enough on it’s own right, began booing at an alarming rate. Seth caught Finn’s eye & Finn knew what Seth wanted to do, he slipped out of the ring, marched to the announcer & tore the mic out of their hands. Returning to the ring he passed Seth the mic, the crowds now preceding to chant ‘CM Punk’ as loud as they possibly could. “SHUT UP!” Seth screamed with so much malice and venom exuding from his booming voice, that everyone actually listened and fell silent, even the commentary team. “For years I have been the one paving the way for WWE, creating The Shield, becoming the beacon for all of the heels when I joined The Authority, setting a precedent for Money In The Bank when I cashed in the Main Event of WrestleMania, a precedent yet to be topped! I became a Grand Slam Champion & even came to your aid when Brock Lesnar had this division by it’s balls and wouldn’t let go, TWICE!” Seth sucked in an angry breath & continued “And how did you repay me? You went beyond the booing expected by the WWE Universe. You spat on my reputation, you cursed my name when I disagreed with AEW, when I tried to stand up for everyone in the back, you hoped for The Fiend’s success, though he’ll soon run through the entire division, treat us like he was treated by Vince, until the entire division is buried. You wished for my death just for your own pettiness to be sated. You ran from me, just like your precious Roman Reigns ran.” He kicked Roman’s unconscious body emphasising his point. “He ran, all the way to SmackDown & besides our match at the Draft never once bothered to check up on me. Use me to achieve his selfishness of wanted his ‘Band of Brothers’ back together, and what did he do? Threw me away like I was disposable. Dean left because Vince used him, got the crowd to hate him through his turn that night, through those orders of saying he wanted Roman dead. Dean saw through it, much earlier than this time last year, he was right to leave.”

Seth looked at Finn, every word he said about the universe turning on him, he meant, not just for himself but for Finn as well “There was one man who truly cared, and that” he gestured over to Finn, watching on with his trademark smile, not filled with love, but with pure evilness, joyful at how Seth was brutalising everyone “was Finn Bálor. He was the only one who knew exactly what I was going through, cause he was there in my spot just months ago. He even knew I wasn’t myself, so he got me something that showed he knew me, what I’m all about, what I should have been about from Day One.” Seth ripped off his Red Chicago cover & the entire arena gasped. Below it, Seth wore Finn’s package, a half shirt, one side with Seth Freakin’ Rollins, another a side decorated in gold and black, the NXT logo emblazoned on the front.

“The Prinxe saw me when I was feeling the strain & gave me a way out. So Monday’s will no longer be Monday Night Rollins, cause I am no longer here to please you or anyone else. I’m in it for myself like Finn, doing things because I want to. I’m The Master of NXT, and if anyone gets in my way I will BURN. THEM. DOWN.” Seth let out his familar heel cackle & threw the mic away, hitting Corey Graves in the face with it. As the crowds boos sounded, he no longer cared, he was liberated, himself again. He grabbed Finn’s hand, the two survivors, the two that would always survive & strode to the back of the arena, they turned & in unison, raised Finn’s trademark guns, and shot right at the centre, where Roman still laid broken.

NXT would go on to win the evening, and a party at the bar was where everyone went, even the Undisputed Era, still sore but exctatic that their brand won the night. Triple H was the only one whom noticed Seth & Finn were not there, he rang them both, letting them know where their victory party was. Unbeknownst to Triple H, Seth & Finn were partaking in their own victory party. In Finn’s apartment, the two had thrown off each others clothes, both men on the bed, Seth’s head thrown back in ecstasy as Finn’s mouth worked his cock. “Fuck Finn, I’ve wanted you for such a long time.” Seth moaned, Finn proceeded to suck Seth’s balls, Seth letting out a sharp groan “Fuck, I should have told you earlier, I put it to the side, scared of hurting Dean, no more, I do what I want from now on.” Finn moved up to Seth’s face, kissing him. “And what does The Master want?” He asked, flirtingly, Seth gripping onto Finn’s back, nails digging in “You, Finn Bálor.” He threw Finn onto the bed, sinking into his tight ass. Both men moaned as Seth began to fuck his Prinxe “Fuck, you feel so good around me Bálor. So good for your master.” Finn gave Seth a seering kiss “We work with each other, now and forever, the NXT division will tremble before both of us, together on our rightful thrones, the way we knew it was from day one, the way it should have been.” Motivated by Finn’s powerful words, the two began to thrust faster and faster, the clock on the wall, the pouring of the rain, the buzzing of their phones, all lost to their pleasure. “Seth, Master, I’m about to cum.” Finn moaned out loud as Seth grabbed his dick and began to jerk it, desperate to get Finn off, to get his Prinxe to orgasm. “Seth yes, keep going. SETH FUCK!” Finn screamed at the top of his lungs as he came, landing atop of Seth’s chest. He leant down and licked it off, causing Finn to moan. “God Finn, your ass is so tight, I’m going to cum!” Seth made to pull out but Finn shook his head, he wanted Seth’s load. Seth moved his hand onto Finn’s torso, gracing every single one of Finn’s amazing abs. “God, I love you Finn Bálor.” Seth’s face, eyes and whole body lit up with adoration as he thrusted with more strength than he’d ever had, leaning down to kiss Finn as he came, shot after shot filling Finn’s ass. Pulling out slowly, Seth collapsed next to Finn. Pulling him in for a kiss. “Wow babe.” Seth grinned at Finn “You’re welcome babe.” The Prinxe letting out a cold laugh, one that many would never thought they would hear out of the good hearted Finn Bálor, but one that was soothing to Seth as The Master laughed coldly as well “We’ve got each other now though, as we truly are: The Master & The Prinxe.” Finn moved up to Seth’s face, Seth leaning down, catching his soulmate’s lips in an Earth shattering kiss.

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Boston Boys [Part Sixteen]

Summary: John and Aurelie make amends; Sebastian has reason to be suspicious of Scarlett.  Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1867 Chapter Warnings: Discussion of criminal activity including murder ... I think that’s it? A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)

Additionally, I have decided to attempt to post a chapter a day until we get to the end of this bad boy. Since the fic is completed, it’s just a matter of me getting off my butt and putting the posts together!

Boston Boys Masterlist

The rain was coming down hard when John got home from closing the bar. John ran for the front door, unlocked it and got inside before he could get any more drenched than he already was.

He took a warm shower and put on a pair of thin sweats and a plain white t-shirt. A beer and sports highlights sounded good before bed, so he popped the top off a glass bottle and tuned in to ESPN. The announcer only got through the highlights of one game before John’s doorbell rang.

John muted the television and reached for the handgun hidden under the coffee table. He kept it behind him as he looked out the peephole, but tossed it back to the couch when he saw Aurelie on his porch. He flung the door open and pulled her inside.

“Are you crazy? It’s pouring out there!” he scolded.

She sniffled and looked up at him. Her eyes were red and her face was splotchy -- a sure sign she had spent a fair amount of time crying. Shaking her head, she apologized for showing up at this hour.

“I took my implant off because of the rain so I only caught some of what you said,” Aurelie admitted. “Anyway. I’m sorry about our fight the other day -- it was my fault.”

John shook his head. “No, Aurelie --”

“Robbie Evans killed my dad,” Aurelie blurted out. “The detectives tried to tell me when they came back to question me that day, and today I mentioned it to Chris. He knew this whole time. This whole time! He’s been the only person I trusted and he’s been bringing me money from Robbie and I thought it was because Robbie has thought all this time my deafness was his fault -- but now to find out -- Chris is all I have left and now I don’t even have him!”

She broke down then, holding her face in her hands and crying silently. John came forward and pulled her to him. He let her cry it out until she stepped back and apologized again, this time for coming at all.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, speaking the words clearly and signing as best he could. “You’ve got me. Maybe you don’t have Chris, but you’ve got me. I love you, kid.”

“I love you too, Johnny,” Aurelie said, managing a sad smile.

He helped her to his room and into one of his t-shirts. He changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, then they sat together on the couch, watching the sports highlights until John finished his beer. Then, he shut the house down while Aurelie waited for him in bed.

“Are you still mad at me?” she asked.

John sighed. “I was never mad at you. I was mad at myself. You deserve better than what I can give you. You deserve normal.”

“Normal’s just a setting on the washing machine,” Aurelie shrugged. “That’s what my mentor used to say, anyway. This is our normal, and I wouldn’t want anything else if it meant not having you.”

John smiled and kissed her softly, made sure she was tucked in and comfortable, then switched off the bedroom light and joined her in the bed.

Candles were lit on the table, a vase was full of her favorite flowers, and quiet music set the mood just right. Scarlett adjusted her dress as she followed Sebastian to the table where he pulled out her chair.

“My lady,” he smiled.

Scarlett smiled, too. “Well, sir, you’re quite the gentleman. This place is amazing … what’s the occasion?”

Sebastian ordered a bottle of wine for them, then turned to his date. “I got the all-clear from the doctor today. I’m completely healed from the gunshot wound. Felt like celebrating and there’s no one else I’d rather celebrate with.”

Scarlett giggled; she never giggled. Being with Seb, though, made her feel like she could be whoever she wanted to be, express herself however she felt fit the situation. She didn’t hold back with him. It was refreshing, to be honest.

“Everything looks amazing,” she sighed, looking over the menu.

“It does,” Seb agreed.

They discussed different options until they each settled on what sounded best to them. A very stately looking waiter came to take their order, then they were able to only concentrate on each other. They made small talk, voiced their observations about other people and couples in the restaurant, and when their food came, they got right down to eating, trading bites here and there. Sebastian ordered a second bottle of wine, which they made short work of.

The waiter came to clear their plates, and Scarlett excused herself to the ladies’ room. Sebastian paid the bill and fished around in his pockets for a toothpick -- then took another look around the restaurant and decided maybe a classy place like this wasn’t the place for a toothpick. The vibration of a phone caught his attention, but once he realized it wasn’t his, he let it go. Scarlett should be back soon, he would let her know that she had missed a call.

But then the phone rang again. Risking a very rare kind of rage that only Scarlett could dole out, he reached into her purse to get the device. The phone that he pulled out wasn’t the phone she normally carried with her, and the number wasn’t one that Sebastian recognized. Though he considered answering the call, he thought better of it and dropped the device back into Scarlett’s purse just before she returned from the ladies’ room -- and set the phone she normally carried on the table.

“Did I miss anything exciting?” she smiled at him, sipping at what was left of the wine in her glass.

“No, sweetheart,” Seb smirked, leaning over the table to place a soft kiss on her lips, “nothing at all.”

Elsa wasn’t sure what to do. Chris had texted her that he would be late for dinner because he was meeting Aurelie, but that was the last she had heard from him -- and that had been hours ago. Two text messages and a phone call to Chris went unanswered.

I’m really starting to get worried, Chris. At least let me know you’re okay.

The reply came a few minutes later. I’m fine.

That was it. No explanation. She wanted to ask him if he was still coming over, but the tone of the situation told her that maybe it was better to back off. Chris had given her Aurelie’s number for emergencies, so Elsa typed out a text to her but then deleted it without sending. She wasn’t in high school anymore, she wasn’t going to get Chris’s sister involved in their drama, no matter how small. She couldn’t call Brie to talk through the situation with her -- those two hadn’t spoken since their fallout in the Manhattan night club. Elsa really didn't want to hear any version of I told you so, from Brie or her mother or anyone else, so calling New York was out of the question, too.

Feeling defeated and pretty low, Elsa packaged up the meal she had cooked for herself and Chris without eating any of it. She loaded and ran the dishwasher, then went to start a bubble bath for herself. While the water ran, she wiped off her makeup, piled her hair on her head, and turned on a quiet playlist. Add in a glass of wine and by the time the tub was full, Elsa was ready to step in and forget about her hurt feelings and ruined night.

Seb had dropped Scarlett off at home and was returning to his apartment when Chris pulled up with a twelve pack. Seb chuckled.

“It’s like you read my mind, man,” he said, greeting Chris with a playful punch on the shoulder. “Just dropped Scar off, I’m ready to get out of this monkey suit and get a little fucked up.”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, I just stood Elsa up. Feel bad, but not bad enough to go over there, I guess.”

“What’s goin’ on? I thought you really liked her?”

Licking his lips, Chris nodded up to the apartment. It was better not to talk about any of this where anyone else could be listening.

Once Seb had changed and the television was on for background noise, they each popped open a beer bottle, toasted to girl troubles, and knocked back a few gulps a piece.

“The cops talked to Aurelie about me the other day,” Chris sighed. “They mentioned something about Robbie killing her dad. She wasn’t flat out asking, but -- shit, if you could have seen the way she was talking about it. She’s got too much faith in me. A piece of shit from a bad part of Boston. So, I told her the truth.”

Seb’s eyes went wide. “Fuck, Chris. Thought you were taking that one to the grave. I mean, you told me, but I never expected you to come clean to anyone else.”

“Yeah, neither did I. Aurelie’s a good person. She deserved better than to ever be dragged into this bullshit with my family. I shoulda protected her like I do Carly and Shanna. Shoulda kept my mouth shut all along.”

“You could have tried, but Aurelie’s too smart for that.”

Chris finished off that first beer and reached for another one. “Anyway. I’m probably no good for Elsa, either. I gotta break that off, soon.”

Seb leaned back against the couch. “Yeah, I’m not sure Scarlett and I are going to last much longer. She’s hiding things from me -- she might be hiding things from all of us.”

“What do you mean?”

Seb took a good, deep breath, measuring his words out carefully. He could look into the matter on his own, but his feelings for Scarlett could potentially interfere. He finished off the beer in his hand and got up to find a whiskey bottle, taking a good swig before returning to the living room.

“Can you think of any reason why Scarlett would have two phones?”

“Two phones? Scarlett’s got two phones?”

Seb recounted what had happened at dinner while Scarlett was in the ladies’ room. “Had to make a lot of excuses not to go home with her or have her come here after we paid the bill. I love that woman, and I want to trust her. Thing is though, between the two phones and the times no one seems to know where she is, I’m not sure any of us can trust her.”

Chris nodded; he could see where Sebastian was coming from. He was just as concerned, and felt like an idiot for being so caught up in Elsa and his own shit that he had neglected his responsibilities to his family. Just because he didn’t want to take any referrals, just because he wanted a normal life for a while. Now, the foundation they all rested on was potentially beginning to crumble.

“All right. Clearly we need some answers. You up for starting tonight?” Chris asked.

Seb took another couple pulls from the whiskey bottle and capped it. “Sure. Finish off that beer, then we’ll go.”

AlloftheThings: @captain-s-rogers​​​​​​​​​​​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​​​​​​​​​​​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​​​​​​​​ @hurricanerin​​​​​​​​​​​​ @horsesandbandsforlife​​​​​​​​​​​​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​​​​​​​​​​​​ @captain-rogers-beard​​​​​​​​​​​​ @shynara51​​​​​​​​​​​​ @sea040561​​​​​​​​​​​​  @pinknerdpanda​​​​​​​​​​​​ @xtina2191​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jackryanplz​​​​​​​​​​​​ @beakami​​​​​​​​​​​​ @heartsaved​​​​​​​​​​​​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​​​​​​​​​​​​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl​​​​​​​​​​​​

Boston Boys:  @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​​​​​​​​​​​ @becs-bunker​​​​​​​​​​​​ @shield-agent78​​​​​​​​​​​​ @patzammit​​​​​​​​​​​​ @crazyandanonymous4u​​​​​​​​​​​​ @ntlmundy​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @jennmurawski13​​​​​​​​​​​​​ @okay-maybe-i-like-marvel-too​​​​​​​​​​​​

[lullabieswrappedinlies]

Boston Boys [Part Sixteen]

Summary: John and Aurelie make amends; Sebastian has reason to be suspicious of Scarlett. Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1867 Chapter Warnings: Discussion of criminal activity including murder ... I think that’s it? A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)

Additionally, I have decided to attempt to post a chapter a day until we get to the end of this bad boy. Since the fic is completed, it’s just a matter of me getting off my butt and putting the posts together!

Boston Boys Masterlist

The rain was coming down hard when John got home from closing the bar. John ran for the front door, unlocked it and got inside before he could get any more drenched than he already was.

He took a warm shower and put on a pair of thin sweats and a plain white t-shirt. A beer and sports highlights sounded good before bed, so he popped the top off a glass bottle and tuned in to ESPN. The announcer only got through the highlights of one game before John’s doorbell rang.

John muted the television and reached for the handgun hidden under the coffee table. He kept it behind him as he looked out the peephole, but tossed it back to the couch when he saw Aurelie on his porch. He flung the door open and pulled her inside.

“Are you crazy? It’s pouring out there!” he scolded.

She sniffled and looked up at him. Her eyes were red and her face was splotchy -- a sure sign she had spent a fair amount of time crying. Shaking her head, she apologized for showing up at this hour.

“I took my implant off because of the rain so I only caught some of what you said,” Aurelie admitted. “Anyway. I’m sorry about our fight the other day -- it was my fault.”

John shook his head. “No, Aurelie --”

“Robbie Evans killed my dad,” Aurelie blurted out. “The detectives tried to tell me when they came back to question me that day, and today I mentioned it to Chris. He knew this whole time. This whole time! He’s been the only person I trusted and he’s been bringing me money from Robbie and I thought it was because Robbie has thought all this time my deafness was his fault -- but now to find out -- Chris is all I have left and now I don’t even have him!”

She broke down then, holding her face in her hands and crying silently. John came forward and pulled her to him. He let her cry it out until she stepped back and apologized again, this time for coming at all.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, speaking the words clearly and signing as best he could. “You’ve got me. Maybe you don’t have Chris, but you’ve got me. I love you, kid.”

“I love you too, Johnny,” Aurelie said, managing a sad smile.

He helped her to his room and into one of his t-shirts. He changed into a fresh pair of pajamas, then they sat together on the couch, watching the sports highlights until John finished his beer. Then, he shut the house down while Aurelie waited for him in bed.

“Are you still mad at me?” she asked.

John sighed. “I was never mad at you. I was mad at myself. You deserve better than what I can give you. You deserve normal.”

“Normal’s just a setting on the washing machine,” Aurelie shrugged. “That’s what my mentor used to say, anyway. This is our normal, and I wouldn’t want anything else if it meant not having you.”

John smiled and kissed her softly, made sure she was tucked in and comfortable, then switched off the bedroom light and joined her in the bed.

Candles were lit on the table, a vase was full of her favorite flowers, and quiet music set the mood just right. Scarlett adjusted her dress as she followed Sebastian to the table where he pulled out her chair.

“My lady,” he smiled.

Scarlett smiled, too. “Well, sir, you’re quite the gentleman. This place is amazing … what’s the occasion?”

Sebastian ordered a bottle of wine for them, then turned to his date. “I got the all-clear from the doctor today. I’m completely healed from the gunshot wound. Felt like celebrating and there’s no one else I’d rather celebrate with.”

Scarlett giggled; she never giggled. Being with Seb, though, made her feel like she could be whoever she wanted to be, express herself however she felt fit the situation. She didn’t hold back with him. It was refreshing, to be honest.

“Everything looks amazing,” she sighed, looking over the menu.

“It does,” Seb agreed.

They discussed different options until they each settled on what sounded best to them. A very stately looking waiter came to take their order, then they were able to only concentrate on each other. They made small talk, voiced their observations about other people and couples in the restaurant, and when their food came, they got right down to eating, trading bites here and there. Sebastian ordered a second bottle of wine, which they made short work of.

The waiter came to clear their plates, and Scarlett excused herself to the ladies’ room. Sebastian paid the bill and fished around in his pockets for a toothpick -- then took another look around the restaurant and decided maybe a classy place like this wasn’t the place for a toothpick. The vibration of a phone caught his attention, but once he realized it wasn’t his, he let it go. Scarlett should be back soon, he would let her know that she had missed a call.

But then the phone rang again. Risking a very rare kind of rage that only Scarlett could dole out, he reached into her purse to get the device. The phone that he pulled out wasn’t the phone she normally carried with her, and the number wasn’t one that Sebastian recognized. Though he considered answering the call, he thought better of it and dropped the device back into Scarlett’s purse just before she returned from the ladies’ room -- and set the phone she normally carried on the table.

“Did I miss anything exciting?” she smiled at him, sipping at what was left of the wine in her glass.

“No, sweetheart,” Seb smirked, leaning over the table to place a soft kiss on her lips, “nothing at all.”

Elsa wasn’t sure what to do. Chris had texted her that he would be late for dinner because he was meeting Aurelie, but that was the last she had heard from him -- and that had been hours ago. Two text messages and a phone call to Chris went unanswered.

I’m really starting to get worried, Chris. At least let me know you’re okay.

The reply came a few minutes later. I’m fine.

That was it. No explanation. She wanted to ask him if he was still coming over, but the tone of the situation told her that maybe it was better to back off. Chris had given her Aurelie’s number for emergencies, so Elsa typed out a text to her but then deleted it without sending. She wasn’t in high school anymore, she wasn’t going to get Chris’s sister involved in their drama, no matter how small. She couldn’t call Brie to talk through the situation with her -- those two hadn’t spoken since their fallout in the Manhattan night club. Elsa really didn't want to hear any version of I told you so, from Brie or her mother or anyone else, so calling New York was out of the question, too.

Feeling defeated and pretty low, Elsa packaged up the meal she had cooked for herself and Chris without eating any of it. She loaded and ran the dishwasher, then went to start a bubble bath for herself. While the water ran, she wiped off her makeup, piled her hair on her head, and turned on a quiet playlist. Add in a glass of wine and by the time the tub was full, Elsa was ready to step in and forget about her hurt feelings and ruined night.

Seb had dropped Scarlett off at home and was returning to his apartment when Chris pulled up with a twelve pack. Seb chuckled.

“It’s like you read my mind, man,” he said, greeting Chris with a playful punch on the shoulder. “Just dropped Scar off, I’m ready to get out of this monkey suit and get a little fucked up.”

Chris nodded. “Yeah, I just stood Elsa up. Feel bad, but not bad enough to go over there, I guess.”

“What’s goin’ on? I thought you really liked her?”

Licking his lips, Chris nodded up to the apartment. It was better not to talk about any of this where anyone else could be listening.

Once Seb had changed and the television was on for background noise, they each popped open a beer bottle, toasted to girl troubles, and knocked back a few gulps a piece.

“The cops talked to Aurelie about me the other day,” Chris sighed. “They mentioned something about Robbie killing her dad. She wasn’t flat out asking, but -- shit, if you could have seen the way she was talking about it. She’s got too much faith in me. A piece of shit from a bad part of Boston. So, I told her the truth.”

Seb’s eyes went wide. “Fuck, Chris. Thought you were taking that one to the grave. I mean, you told me, but I never expected you to come clean to anyone else.”

“Yeah, neither did I. Aurelie’s a good person. She deserved better than to ever be dragged into this bullshit with my family. I shoulda protected her like I do Carly and Shanna. Shoulda kept my mouth shut all along.”

“You could have tried, but Aurelie’s too smart for that.”

Chris finished off that first beer and reached for another one. “Anyway. I’m probably no good for Elsa, either. I gotta break that off, soon.”

Seb leaned back against the couch. “Yeah, I’m not sure Scarlett and I are going to last much longer. She’s hiding things from me -- she might be hiding things from all of us.”

“What do you mean?”

Seb took a good, deep breath, measuring his words out carefully. He could look into the matter on his own, but his feelings for Scarlett could potentially interfere. He finished off the beer in his hand and got up to find a whiskey bottle, taking a good swig before returning to the living room.

“Can you think of any reason why Scarlett would have two phones?”

“Two phones? Scarlett’s got two phones?”

Seb recounted what had happened at dinner while Scarlett was in the ladies’ room. “Had to make a lot of excuses not to go home with her or have her come here after we paid the bill. I love that woman, and I want to trust her. Thing is though, between the two phones and the times no one seems to know where she is, I’m not sure any of us can trust her.”

Chris nodded; he could see where Sebastian was coming from. He was just as concerned, and felt like an idiot for being so caught up in Elsa and his own shit that he had neglected his responsibilities to his family. Just because he didn’t want to take any referrals, just because he wanted a normal life for a while. Now, the foundation they all rested on was potentially beginning to crumble.

“All right. Clearly we need some answers. You up for starting tonight?” Chris asked.

Seb took another couple pulls from the whiskey bottle and capped it. “Sure. Finish off that beer, then we’ll go.”

Tags: @themtbmbgirl​​​​​​​ @keithseabrook27​​​​​​​​ @ulovemelightsout​​​​​​​​ @rosie2801​​​​​​​​ @professorkrasinski​​​​​​​​

[mrs-hollandstan]

Heaven Ain't Close || Mob!Tom x Reader

Warnings: talk of depression, talk of mob tendencies, talk of not feeling wanted, kissing, brief thigh touching, suggestive actions, language

Word Count: 3,393

Author's Note: Soooooo, here's my mob!Tom fic I've been talking about for a while. This is the one with a wedding/dance flashback that I want to go more in depth with if you guys want. But I thought the whole *spoiler* diving across a table to kiss someone was cute. So yeah, lemme know what you think!

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The very first warning when you came to New York was to stay away from the mob bosses. Of course... when they looked like Tom it was a little difficult. He was like the blackest of clouds when the sun decided to make an appearance on a stormy day. He was like a clear night sky, stars sparkling and dancing beside a full moon. The first time you met him, his eyes alone intimidated you to no end. Sitting in his office, surrounded in the darkest pieces of wood and carpeting, he toyed with a pen at the edge of the large oak desk, listening to you ramble before his eyes cut to you. They narrowed and you could have sworn your heart stopped in your chest. Against the heeded warning of roommates and friends and students around the university you attended, you started working as a receptionist for one of the most feared men in New York. Someone who didn't put up with anyone's shit. Someone who, with one glance had women scrambling out of his bed and men begging for their lives. He was the silent, deadly type that, equipped with the darkest eyes, could have whatever he wanted with a single, silent stare. But the relationship that developed between he and you was something that had his men, in pairs, looking to each other in surprise and awe. He had been a place to stay if it was late in the night and he didn't want you driving or he felt it was too dangerous for you to be out in New York. He had been a backup plan when you were low on funds. But he never let that happen. He was even your plus one to a friend's wedding which was an interesting situation. He'd agreed to the plus one rather hastily, opting for a black tie suit with your confirmation. Accompanying you to the nearest mall, he insisted on buying two wedding gifts that were honestly added to the registry as a good laugh. The look on the bride and groom's face when they unwrapped a full crystal barware set from Neiman Marcus and a cashmere Trentino throw would have humored Tom to the full extent and the call from the honeymoon had you rolling in pure giddiness. The night of that wedding was the first time you'd seen Tom unwind. It was the first time you'd seen Tom lose his jacket and tie, sipping drinks and watching the bridal party interact. The way the lights around you set his face in haunting shadows and his eyes danced across the dancefloor as he watched strangers dance with their significant others. When you stood and held your hand out, he looked you over, eyes lingering on the bare skin of your legs exposed by your dress before giving you a questioning look. "Let's dance." He hated himself for the way he loved to hear your voice. He wanted to hear you beg, but the adoration and playfulness in your eyes had him taking your nimble hand in his calloused one and following you out to the dance floor where he took you in his arms and twirled you around the other patrons. For once, just one night, he felt human. He felt normal. And he loved it. The way you rested your arm over his, hand heavy in his own as your bodies swayed together, melding with the music. No one paid attention to the both of you. No one knew who he was. No one knew the bad things he'd done and he could let loose. With you in his arms. And towards the end of the night, he cradled you close to his chest, your ear laid over his heart as you wrapped up the night. That night, he came to terms with having feelings for you. He came to terms with his stomach flipping and his heart skipping a beat when you entered a room. And even if you asked, he'd deny moving seats to sit beside you on his private jet just to have your head on his shoulder when you'd fallen asleep. Draping a blanket over your body, his heart nearly turned to mush when you whimpered in your sleep and pressed yourself closer, nuzzling into his shoulder. By the time he was shaking you awake, you were landing and he was off to do whatever he did before he included you in his business. But even after that, he couldn't hide the way his hand slipped between your thighs just to feel your soft skin in the seats of his all black, 1968 Chevy Comaro SS. Windows rolled down, driving fast down the highway just driving wherever, your hair tied back and out of your face. Tom had never thought you were more beautiful than in those few moments, but he'd never admit it. And you never told his men just for his reputation. Just for his business. You knew you couldn't be used against him as ransom. The feelings were there but the both of you didn't act upon it. He looked forward to Monday's just to see his receptionist. It was tradition for you to be on your computer when he came in in the morning, sliding a steaming cup of coffee across the glass table you were perched at with the corners of your lips quirking up when he thanked you quietly. And with business booming, he felt guilty dragging you into mission planning. But he asked nicely and you weren't one to deny your boss. "Okay." Tom looked up when you entered the room, announcing your presence with a sighed word, blueprints in hand. You didn't lock eyes when Tom stood and you spread the plans and blueprints across the meeting table in his large office. Strutting over, he gave you a look over, loving the way you looked in the pencil skirt and blouse clinging to your skin. Leaning in on your hands over the chalked over blueprints, you pointed to the front doors, "Some of you can enter through here. Not you though. The second you walk in this door there's... fifty guns on you." Tom smiled, watching you chew the inside of your lip. Cocking your head, you point to a large, ground level room on the plans, "This is where the newest shipment is. Gressoni just got an arms shipment and this is where it'll be." Pausing again, you sigh and point to a seemingly hidden door around the back, "And this is a maintenance door. This is where you'll go in." Looking up, you lock eyes and Tom gives a nod to show he's been listening. Circling the door on the prints with your finger, you look up again, watching Tom lean in on his own hands, "There's a hiccup in the system Jacobs can breach for about a minute before security is onto yo-" Your eyes widen when Tom nearly lurches over the desk, his lips pressed to yours. He kisses you for a few seconds before pulling back just the slightest, eyes darting all over your face. The deafening silence that rings through the now passion thickened room is nearly too much to handle. Tom licks his lips of your taste, "I won't apologize. That's been long awaited." You shake your head, the breath in your lungs stolen by the man standing before you that has a whole new look to him. Your arms feel like limp noodles as you process what's happened in the last minute, "I-I don't want you to apologize. That uhm... was nice." He nods in return, the feeling in the room shifting to nervous. Abandoning the blueprints, you stand straight and round the table slowly. Tom can't tell if the sound reverberating off of the walls is his heart pointing out of his chest or the sound of your heels. His eyes cut up to your own when you stand before him, "Surely we can't just... leave that there. What uhm...  where do we go from here?" He swallows, rubbing his clammy hands together. He shrugs, "S'up to you I suppose. I uhh... I've obviously just... showed you that there's something I have for you as far as feelings go but... if the feeling isn't mutual, that's okay." The idea of his feelings not being reciprocated actually breaks his heart. He's never not had a woman like him before. His heart stutters in his chest when you give a half-hearted laugh, taking that final step forward before your lips press to his gently again. This time the kiss is longer, his lips forced against yours as he presses you back against the table behind you, your bottom slipping onto it. He slips his fingers up under your chin, holding your face up to him. When you pull back to breathe, his lips travel down to your neck, kissing and nipping at the skin, "I can't... my boss... the one person I was warned against is making a move on me." When you scoff, he smiles against your skin, "Doesn't really matter anymore does it? You've got feelings for me, the feelings are mutual. Any friendships that would've been jeopardized because of me, are long dissolved by now then." His touch ignites your skin, fingertips grazing the bare skin of your legs as he leans back. He cocks his head, eyes darting between yours. You smile and his eyebrows furrow, lips pulling up into a smirk, "What?" He asks with a chuckle you've never heard before. It's like music to your ears and brings a wide smile to your own face. Jutting your chin over your shoulder towards his desk, you look back to him, "Can I sit in the chair?" He looks to his own desk, pursing his lips. If no one was in the room, they'd never know that someone else had sat in the boss's chair. No one would know another person had been in it. Looking back to you, he looks you over once before giving an unsure nod of his head. His heart skips again when you squeal, your heels clicking against the polished wood floor of his office until you're standing before the mountainous leather chair you'd seen Tom in so many times. The one that you'd fantasized about sitting in his lap in while he discussed business terms. You lick your lips, taking hold of the arm and turning it, seat facing you. Turning to sit in it, you eye Tom, hands tucked in the pockets of his black pinstriped, three piece suit slacks. Lowering yourself into the chair, you sigh, running your hands over the leather arms. His shoes squeak as he walks forward, "Worth it?" You nod, smiling up at him when he leans against the desk beside you, "So worth it. You have no idea how amazing this is. This chair is like... a dream. This conversation is a dream. That kiss was a dream. God you... if you had known how much I wanted you... how many times I wished you were something more than my boss when I was at my lowest points, you would've kissed me months ago." He cocks his head again, eyebrows knitting together, "What do you mean?" Finding his eyes once more, your shoulders slump, "Well I-I you know-" "No, I don't. What do you mean your lowest? Darling... what have you been through? I told you you could talk to me. You've known since the wedding you could talk to me about anything." "I know, I know, I just don't want to burden you. And if I'm being honest... you probably wouldn't have listened. You would've hear but you wouldn't have listened to what I had to say." "I'm listening now." He pipes up. You click your tongue and shake your head, avoiding his eyes, "Doesn't matter now." "Of course it does." Pulling his leg further up in the desk when he sits on it, he sighs, "Shoot. I'm listening now. Full focus on you." Picking at your nails, your heart pounds. His pressing scares you and you'd much rather not ruin your makeup with the tears that will inevitably fall, "Why are you pushing?" "I'm your boss. You don't hide secrets from me." "That's a double standard." "Fine, I'll tell you about all the babes I've bagged. You first though. You look like you need it." His wide smile fades just the slightest when he sees you're not amused, "Its alright love... you can talk to me. Here," standing, he rounds the desk, walking to the large door of his office, opening it and mumbling something to Harrison on the other side before closing it again and clicking the lock shut. Walking back to you with a sultry strut, he resumes his spot, "there we go. Continue." "What did you say?" You quiz questioningly. He smiles, "Told Harrison I was laying you out. He doesn't question." He replies with a shrug. You click your tongue, "Tom-" "I'm not though. We're just talking. Like I said, Harrison doesn't question." Staring up at him, he cocks his head and gestures his hand out, "Go ahead. Rant to me. I'm all ears darling." Sighing, you pick at a thread on the arm of his chair. Bringing a leg up to cross over the other, you swallow, "I uhm...  I dunno. I guess I... just don't feel like I'm worth anybody's time. I'm not worth your time. You're a busy man and I just... I don't want you wasting your breath on me." Tom cocked his head, "I dunno babe, you're pretty damn important. I don't waste my time on you. All those drives up the coast. That wedding we went to. The way I held you when we danced. All of that. I... I'm... in love with you Y/N. If wasting my time is what you think dating me is like... letting me lay you out is like... I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed in most of the relationships you make." "I know. That's... that's what I'm afraid of," he eyes you, watching you look down at your lap, "I haven't... had a boyfriend. Not really. I just... I'm not good enough for anyone. No one really likes me." Tom clicks his tongue but let's you continue, "I just feel trapped. I feel like my life is going in a circle and I'm... I'm not worth it. My life doesn't have any meaning." Tom's eyebrows furrow, "Darling... oh love." Standing, he holds both of his hands out. You take them and stand, a lump in your throat and tears burning your eyes. He sits in your previously reserved spot, placing his hand at your hip and pulling you into his lap. He wraps his arm around your waist, the other hand placed over your knee soothingly, eyes locked in yours. He sighs, his jaw clenching, "You're beautiful. There are a number of reasons that I hired you as my receptionist. You're beautiful, you're kind, you're calming, and the boys love you. They know that you're a sort of calming thing for me. They love the attention they get from you. Walking into all those business meetings? They love that. All that pizza you bring and the smile you wear. You seem beautifully confident and... I honestly... don't think I've ever felt the way I feel for you... for any other girl." He shakes his head, cocking it again. Staring down at him, he grunts when you slouch, your feet thrown over the arm of his chair. Laying your head against his shoulder, his arm binds around your shoulders, head rested over yours, "I don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. You're beautiful. You're absolutely stunning and I can't imagine life without you. I think a piece of my heart would be missing." You don't move, eyes trained on the veins and ligaments pulsing from his wrist. He leans in and kisses your forehead, "You're worth it darling. And if you'll let me... I'd love to claim you as my own. In secret for now though. Until we can figure out this mission." Placing your hand over his shoulder, you wrestle from his grip, sitting face to face, "Really?" His eyebrows furrow again and he nods, "Yeah... hell yeah... I need a pretty little distraction. You're it if you want." Looking between his eyes, you only saw them swim in hope. Those same eyes that you'd been terrified of months before, were intoxicatingly beautiful. You wanted to get lost in them over and over again. You wanted to lay your had over his shoulder just as you'd done and be held in his protective arms, held to his chest when he was in a meeting. You slowly nodded, almost entranced in his coffee colored eyes. His smile widens, "Yeah? You sure? I swear to you that I'll make you feel like the only girl in the world. You'll feel better once you're with me. I swear. Okay?" You nod, his hand coming up to your neck, holding you in place as he leans in to kiss you again. He hums into the kiss this time, much slower than before. Almost in reassurance. When he pulls back, his lips are dark pink, his head cocked once more before his lips dance with yours for a few more seconds. He tasted like coffee and blueberry muffins, both of which you brought this morning, a favorite of his. Moving your head, your nose nudges his, a toothy smile erupting out over his features. You giggle, "I'm kinda into the forbidden love thing." Tossing your legs down to place your feet on the floor, he hums watching your body shift and move, "I'm kinda into everything, hips and below on you. Those legs." Licking his lips when you stand before him, his legs are spread, eyes locked on the little black pencil skirt that clings to your hips as you sort through the papers on his desk, "Where's the mission briefing?" His brain is consumed with all kinds of thoughts but where the mission statements are the longer his eyes linger on the back of your body. When you turn to look him in the eye, he suddenly breaks from his trance, "What? Oh... the mission briefing... right." He stands, not bothering to step around you before he finds it amongst the mess. Offering it to you, you look straight ahead at the door, a smile on your lips as his heat radiates off of him and straight into your body. He chuckles, his chest pressed to your back, hands braced on the table, "So... what now?" Turning your head, you look at him, eyes dark and playful, "I was going over the plans Mr. Holland." He closes his eyes, giving a labored breath, "Love it when you call me that. So sexy." Giggling, you press your hands over his splayed across your hips and stomach, leaning into his electrifying kiss for what feels like the tenth time. When he pulls back, you lick your lips of him, hands held over his. You stare into each other's eyes for a moment before he swallows, "Should get back to it then?" You nod, throwing your leg around his and stepping from his arms, "Yeah, I don't wanna be the reason you get shot. Being sappy and all." He chuckles, following you again, "If you tell any of those men before I'm ready to admit it... I'll kill ya." Clicking your tongue, his eyes travel to your waist again when you smooth the corners of the blueprints you had messed up, sitting on the desk, down, "What would you do without me?" He hums, tucking his hands in his pockets again, "Probably seize to exist. But I will deny it. I'll deny all relations with you." "Well lucky for you, I don't plan on saying anything." Leaning over the table when he steps the other side of it, Tom nods, "Good. I'd hate to make you disappear." Scoffing, his heart skips a beat at your sudden brazenness, "Yeah... make me disappear... who'd bring you coffee and muffins and who'd bring the boys pizza?" Glancing up, a smile breaks out across both of your faces. Oh yeah, Tom loved you. And you were most definitely staying.

Taglist: @embrace-themagic @delicioustommy @spiderman-n @winters-beauty @smexylemony @lolabean1998 @musiclover1263

[aconstellationofmemories]

Good Parents

This fic is dedicated to @unicornbeauty290, who has her big day ahead of her soon. I wrote this as a way to commemorate the happy ocassion. It's not good but I hope you like it, Liyah. I challenged myself with this one. Just know that I'm dead from writing this fic. (How dare you rush the birthday girl, haha.)

Bonus points to those who caught the Clannad reference!

Word Count: 2.6k (my longest yet omg).

AO3

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“Gray-sama! Over here.” Juvia tugged Gray by his arm. He let her pull him as she weaved them through the crowd.

Earlier at the guild, she had gabbered about a popular dessert shop and the satisfied reviews from their customers. Their desserts were supposedly spectacular, especially their ice sherbets – a must try, she said.

Although in reality she spent half an hour just talking about the shop’s desserts, he felt like it was an eternity. He would never admit it to her – he couldn’t hurt her feelings, no matter how boring it was – but he had zoned out a few times.

Her chatter stopped abruptly when she stared up at him with puppy eyes and asked him to try their popular dessert with her. She had said something about how it’d be a memorable occasion if he accompanied her on one of their anniversaries.

When she put it that way, he didn’t have it in him to deny her. Coupled with the loving way she gazed up at him, like he was somebody special, and he was a goner.

So here he was.

Getting dragged, and not complaining about it.

Gray didn’t know who he was anymore.

With her skilful manoeuvres, they arrived at the dessert shop in no time. She turned to him enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Gray-sama, can you pay for Juvia?”

He frowned, puzzled by her request. "You don't have any money?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"Juvia does but she'd like you to."

"All right." It was his plan to buy it for her in the first place.

"Gray-sama's treating Juvia!" she exclaimed in disbelief.

"Huh?" He wasn't getting where she was going.

"But Gray-sama shouldn't mind paying." She suddenly turned serious.

He never felt more confused in his life. "Why?" he dared to ask.

"Because it's for Juvia."

He sighed. Despite being on the receiving end of her fantasies countless times, they never failed to befuddle him. She appeared as excited as a child who was about to get her first taste of a sweet. He didn't have the heart to dampen her excitement, so he played along with her.

Yeah, he needed a brawl with Natsu later to confirm he was still Gray.

“One blueberry sher–”

“Ya naughty little thief! Ya ain’t getting away this time!”

He glanced sideways to the direction of the noise just in time to see a boy tossed to the ground. The baker towered threateningly over him, casting a looming shadow. The child cowered and crawled back a few inches, a bread in his lap.

“P-please...” the boy pleaded, his voice breaking.

“I need to teach ya a lesson, ya little thief,” the baker spat out.

With his hand raised, he smacked down to hit the boy.

To the man’s surprise, a streak of ice swiftly crossed his path and blocked his slap. His palm hit a pointed shard of ice and instantly withdrew his hand in pain. “What the...”

Standing protectively in front of the child, Gray levelled the man a glowering look. “It’s you who needs a lesson.”

He heard Juvia rush to the child’s side from behind him. “It’s all right, you’re safe now,” she tried to console the boy.

“Don’t meddle in business that ain’t yours, young fella,” the baker warned, glaring at Gray.

“It’s sure as hell is mine when you’re hurting a kid,” he countered, his voice hard.

“This wee thief can’t keep his hands off my breads. I ain’t letting him off the hook. And now I ain’t letting you off the hook either.”

The baker charged toward Gray and swung his fists at him. Gray, now sans his jacket, deftly dodged his attacks by evading to the side. He bounced back a few steps and placed his hands in his Ice Make stance. “Ice Make: Hammer!” A large ice hammer appeared out of thin air above the man and slammed down on him. The attacked knocked the man out cold.

“Let’s see if anyone buys from you after this,” Gray muttered in distaste.

The crowd that gathered while they fought shouted their cheers for the ice mage. He ignored them and pivoted on his heels to check on the boy. The child peeped at him from behind Juvia while clutching her dress.

“Gray-sama was amazing as always.” She offered his discarded jacket.

He took it and put it on. “How’s the kid?” he scanned the shy boy.

“Besides some old minor injuries, he’s okay. Juvia thinks he’s starved,” she replied, concerned.

“What’s your name?” Gray asked. The child didn’t answer. He tried another approach. “Wanna eat something?” He smiled a little to reassure shy fella.

The boy’s eyes immediately brightened. “Yes!” he said, fisting Juvia’s dress and the stolen bread in his small hands.

“Come to my shop!” a lady from the crowd stepped forward with her offer. “I’ll treat you guys for kicking that high and mighty arse.”

“Well, it isn’t necessary... We can pay for our meals,” Gray said awkwardly, raising a hand to the back of his head.

“You young ones hush and come over, will you?” the lady demanded.

“Let’s go, Gray-sama!” Juvia tugged his arm for Mavis knows how many times it had been today.

While he appeared somewhat annoyed by her public displays of affection, he was in fact secretly enjoying it. The sensation of her soft curves against his was a lovely bonus. Another thing I would never admit to her. She was crazy enough as it is; Gray didn’t need her craziness to be multiplied upon his confession.

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

As soon as the waiter served the plate of curry rice, the child jumped right in to feast on it. Gray and Juvia reminded him repeatedly that no one was going to steal his food, therefore he could eat slowly. The normally timid boy paid no attention to them as he munched on his food. The plate was wiped clean in mere moments.

Gray nudged the second serving to him, and he gobbled the meal down just as quickly. With the second plate licked clean of any leftover, the boy rested against his seat and patted his bulging stomach.

“Are you full now?” Juvia asked cheerily from beside him.

Her voice jolted him back to his fearful self as he straightened. His nervous hazel eyes flickered to them. “T-thank you...for saving me and feeding me...”

“It was nothing,” Gray said nonchalantly.

“Don’t mention it.” Juvia smiled brightly at the boy. “Do you have a home?”

He fidgeted in his seat and squeezed his hands. “T-the street is my home. I was abandoned.”

The boy might as well have grabbed hold of Gray’s heart and squeezed it than his own tiny hands. He had expected the answer, but it didn’t make him any less pained to hear it confirmed. There was a flicker of a grimace on the ice mage’s face before it passed.

Juvia gasped, a frown marring her features. “That’s so sad.”

“I-I don’t have anywhere else to go.” His gaze dropped to the ground.

“I know a place,” Gray said. The boy lifted up his head, his interest piqued. “They’ll take care of you. Do you want to go there?”

The boy remained silent.

“We can’t just leave you in the streets,” Juvia said softly.

“W-will I have food?” He fixed his gaze on Gray for the first time.

Of course, the first question he asked was about food. Gray wasn’t one to indulge in pity – it never got you anywhere – but he couldn’t help the slight tightening of his heart for the boy. His heart ached a little when he imagined the suffering the child must have gone through.

“Every day, whenever you want,” he said softly.

The light returned to his eyes. “Yes, I do!”

Apparently you just had to mention food and the boy was on for anything.

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

The sun had dipped down the horizon and painted the sky with shades of orange and purple when the trio arrived at a church. Back when they were kids, Cana had mentioned to him that she lived in this church orphanage before she joined Fairy Tail. They took good care of her, she had told him, even though the Father was odd. Just the other day, he heard that she brought Wendy to visit the children at the church.

“I must fix the child’s fashion sense,” Father Block said, contemplating as he fixed his critical gaze on the boy’s tattered clothes.

“Seriously, Father? The kid is homeless, for God’s sake.” Of all the things, Gray couldn’t believe he had to point that out.

“Worry not, I’ll give him a brilliant makeover.” The Father’s eyes gleamed with all the ideas he imagined.

“That wasn’t what I was worried about...” He was beginning to doubt it was a good idea to bring the boy here.

He glanced over a couple of steps ahead of them where Juvia sat on her haunches in front of the boy. Their conversation was barely audible from where Gray and Father Block stood.

“But...” the boy squeezed his hands and stared at the ground. “I-I’ve never mixed with people. What if they make fun of me because I-I’m different? What if I don’t fit in?”

“They won’t. The children here would love to be your friends, Juvia knows it.”

“I-I’m scared,” he admitted.

She brushed back the hair from his face and smiled comfortingly at him. “It’s all right to be scared; you’re starting a new adventure. But this time, you won’t be alone. You’ll have friends to cry and laugh with and they will hold your hand.” She gently held his small hand in hers. “You’ll be all right. Juvia promises there will be happy times ahead.”

Tears began to well in his pure, innocent eyes as he stared at her. Swallowing back his tears, the boy nodded his head at her. She gave him a proud smile and hugged him.

Gray could feel his cold heart thawing in his chest as he watched them. Juvia was by far the most caring person he’d ever met. They were polar opposites – Juvia and him. Where he preferred to withhold from affectionate gestures, she went out of her way to express her love. Where he was an arse who chased people away with his frigid behaviour, she was the loving person whose presence was the glorious light after the spring rain.

Gray didn’t know what she saw in him to have stuck by him despite his coldness. What did I do to deserve her?

When he pondered about it, he realised they weren’t that different from Laxus and Mira in that regard. However, in their case, he couldn’t understand why sweet Mira put up with the lightning bastard. Gray was an arse – with how openly he displayed it, one could even say he was proud of it – but even he wasn’t as big of a smug arse as Laxus. He snickered. Both of us don’t deserve our woman.

Juvia led the boy back to Father Block. Unlike the scared and withdrawn child he was all along, the boy seemed to have abandoned some of his fears as he held his head up. He appeared the most confident Gray had ever seen him. Must have been Juvia.

“We’re leaving him in your care then, Father,” Gray said.

“We will take good care of him,” the priest replied. He offered his hand to the boy who promptly took it. Without hesitation, Gray noted.

“O-one thing...” the boy braced himself to look at Gray in the eye. “I-I hope I will be like you one day.”

Caught by surprise at his admission, he stiffened in his posture. Be like me?

“I want to be s-someone who protects the weak, just like you.”

Stunned, Gray was rendered speechless for a few moments before he blinked out of it. He ruffled the boy’s hair and gave him a small smile. “You should stop by Fairy Tail sometime. We can teach you magic.”

“Gray-sama’s right! You can play with Wendy-san too.”

“Ah, Wendy. The children had so much fun with her the other day,” the priest reminisced.

The boy’s eyes widened in wonder at the prospect. “Mmh!” he uttered in agreement, nodding excitedly.

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

Having said their goodbyes to Father Block and the boy, Gray strolled alongside Juvia with his hands deep in his pockets. He anchored his attention on the ground. There were certain things which had been bothering his mind. Once they were a safe distance from the church, he mustered the courage to voice his concerns.

“Do...do you think I’m a good role model, Juvia? If I had a kid, would I be a good father?” he blurted out.

“Gray-sama.” Her voice was suddenly serious. She turned to fix her kind gaze on him and smiled. “Gray-sama is already a good man. Gray-sama would be a good father as well, just like father-in-law.”

Tensing at the mention of his father, he suddenly halted in his steps. The memories he had of his father played in his mind – how he felt on top of the world when Silver sat him on his broad shoulders, the snowball fights they had in the snow, and his dad’s boisterous laughter filling the walls of their home.

His heart constricted painfully in his chest. The time he spent with his father was achingly short.

Yet, despite having so little time together, Gray remembered he felt safe with him. If he was afraid to try out a new thing, or if the past was caging him in a mental prison, Silver always nudged him forward into the future. Most importantly, he believed in Gray.

In short, Silver was both an outstanding father and an honourable man.

Gray wasn’t sure if he could be as good as his dad ��� or if he was good enough for anyone to look up to him.

“You think so?” His uncertainty leaked into his voice.

She smiled confidently at him. “Juvia is certain. Gray-sama is Gray-sama after all.”

Staring at her with in stunned silence, he allowed himself to feel her faith washing over him. It seeped into every fibre of his being and cleansed his doubts, instilling confidence in their place.

The corners of his mouth curved up slightly in a rare display of a soft smile.

Recalling how she comforted the scared child earlier, he inhaled in some courage to say his thoughts out loud. Say it, you idiot. He forced his next words out.

“I-I think you’d be a good mum too, Juvia,” he said awkwardly with slight heat in his cheeks.

“Gray-sama!” she exclaimed, shocked. She stared him with a luminous glow of happiness in her eyes.

Shit. He was glad that the attention was diverted from his feelings of inadequacy, but her daydreaming posed another headache. Her wildly exaggerated ideas could get out of hand quickly.

Gray immediately took a deep breath. He sent up a quick prayer to whichever god was listening to save him.

“Juvia would be happy to have Gray-sama’s baby,” she said dreamily. She clung to him, lost in her own world.

Flustered by her sudden change in demeanour, he stumbled sideways with Juvia still clutching his arm tightly. The colour in his cheeks rivalled the bright hue of the sunset sky.

“I never said that!” They were on entirely different wavelengths.

“There’s no need to be shy, Gray-sama. Juvia understands.”

“The hell you do!” He didn’t want to know what exactly she understood.

“How many children does Gray-sama wants?”

“None!”

“But Gray-sama, we have to get married first. When is our wedding date?”

He didn’t bother trying to correct her by that point. She was too far gone to hear his words properly. Mavis knows how she’ll interpret whatever he would say.

The gods must be having the time of their lives watching his torture. Curse them, he thought with a faint smile on his face.

[carreraleigh]

The New Girl

Pairing: Raleigh (M) x Hannah (MC)

Words: +3.0K

Rating: G (General)

Summary: Raleigh and MC in chapter 2 (Raleigh's POV)

A/N: Well, this is my first fanfiction of Raleigh and MC! I'm so in love with this new character aka Raleigh so expect to see more fanfics soon! 💗

Tags: @vienroose @nazariortega @queenkaneko @drethanramsey @isabella-choices @lilyofchoices @adricnraines @sinclairemckenzie @attuneless

I'm going to create a special tag list for the fics of this couple, so if you want to continue or be added please tell me!

I'm not a native english speaker so I apologize for advanced errors.

——

Raleigh wanted to be anywhere, except for that place. He had been there since early in the morning, seeing how during the course of the day the lobby, that had been empty, was now filling up with people faster and faster. He didn't understand why he had gone, it was the audition day and he had nothing to do there, of course, apart from standing up and smiling as if he were having fun. His PR team planned everything, according to them, his presence would be "good" for his image and it would show interest in the program, he cursed the day when the yacht news came to light. He was trapped there, waiting for an audition with more than 8,000 people to start and not a chance to escape it. Well, at least he had his guitar next to him to keep him company.

Boredom was about to take hold of him completely when he saw a girl running into the lobby, followed closely by another black-haired girl. The two stopped very close to him, close enough for him to hear their conversation. The black-haired girl was accusing the other one of spying on her during her presentation, but he knew there was no way she could have gotten in on her own, someone had to have put her in. His theory was quickly confirmed when he heard the girl's voice saying that Avery invited her in. Admitting that was a bad idea, he thought. Now, she  had become a target for anyone who is obsessed enough with joining the competition, and from the girl's behavior, he was sure that was her first audition. The girl with the black hair said a few last words, furious, and walked out in quick steps towards the exit. The other one stood there, thinking out loud.

“Guess I’m not making any friends.”

Oh no, she was so wrong.

“Where I come from, that’s a good thing.”

The girl turned around and looked at him. Wow, she was more beautiful than he thought she would be. He smiled to her.

“If you aren’t making everyone around you jealous, it means you aren’t worth being jealous of. So in my book, it’s a good sign that girl found you so threatening.”

The girl looked at him for a moment, frowning, still saying nothing. Oh, yes, now he was sure, typical girl who was just starting in the music world, with a heart too pure to know how to swim in a sea full of sharks. For a moment he worried that at some point she would start behaving like a crazy fan and would jump up and yell at him to take a picture with him, but she didn't do it, on the contrary, she just stood there, looking at him, there was no way of knowing exactly what was going through her mind that moment. The more she looked at him, the more he realized how beautiful her eyes  were. The girl smiled mischievously and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you find me threatening?” she asked.

It certainly wasn't the answer he expected, she didn't seem like the kind of girl who went on the offensive, but he couldn't say it bothered him, she seemed to have some hope of survival after all.

"Me?" he said almost laughing, looking at her up and down, there was nothing intimidating, not at least not for him, but he knew that under that mask there was a great potential, he could see when someone was exactly like him "Not yet. Maybe I should keep an eye out though.”

The girl smiled for the first time, and Raleigh could swear that it was one of the warmest smiles he had ever seen, she made him smile too. He was more curious than ever, he wanted to know who was the stranger who caught his attention among so many people, and it was the only conversation he had enjoyed since he came to this nightmare, which slowly ceased to look like a punishment with her presence.

"So, what's your name?" he dared to ask.

"I'm Hannah, what's yours?" she replied, he couldn't help but laugh.

"Like Hannah Montana?" he said mockingly, she rolled her eyes.

"I have definitely never heard that joke." she said in a sarcastic tone and looked at him again, as if she was waiting for him to say something else "You didn't answer my question, what's your name?"

Was she serious?

"Very funny." he smiled.

"Very funny. That's a weird name. So are you gonna tell me or not?"

Funny but demanding at the same time. This girl was full of surprises.

"Huh. You really don't know who I am, do you?" he was starting to like this game.

She saw Hannah open her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by voices that were heard all over the lobby.

"OH. MY. GOD. IS THAT RALEIGH CARRERA?"

Several girls approached him quickly, he sighed and grabbed his head in his hands. It was the first time after so many tours and concerts that he had the chance to talk to someone who wouldn't jump at his feet or scream when they saw him, he liked the idea of being able to have a quiet conversation with someone, many times more than wanting, he needed it, it made him feel more connected to the earth. After all, he was just a human like everyone else. Hannah looked at him with a confused face, as if trying to figure out exactly what the girls who were now surrounding him everywhere were referring to. She took a step to the side before the fans surrounded him completely, he followed her footsteps with his eyes, expecting for her to leave, but she didn’t.

"RALEIGH. I LOVE YOU. LOOK! LOOK AT MY ANKLE!"

He put on the best smile his face allowed and looked at the girl's ankle, which had his face embodied in her skin. Raleigh had seen a lot of crazy things that fans did, but he didn't know exactly how to react to the fact that a person has his face tattooed on their ankle.

"Wow. That, uh..." he tried to articulate the words "That sure is a tattoo of my face." he didn't know whether to feel flattered or terrified "Kid, I hope that's temporary."

"NO! IT'S PERMANENT! IT TOOK TWELVE HOURS, AND IT HURT SO BAD!" the girl was still screaming, excited. Before she could say anything, another girl started talking.

"CAN I GET A SELFIE? OR AN AUTOGRAPH? OR-"

As much as he liked spending time with fans,  he thought that wasn't the proper way to approach him. Besides, she still had Hannah in mind, who was still watching the scene without saying a word, and Raleigh was surprised that she hadn't left yet.

"Nah. I'm good.” he said.

"N-no? What do you mean-"

"Means, I'm busy having a conversation with Hannah here..." he fixed his gaze on her and saw how a shy smile formed on her lips "Y'all have a good one."

The fans looked at each other and then began to move towards the exit, clearly disappointed. Hannah approached him again, her face changed to an angry expression, and he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"Whoa, that was harsh!”

A girl who wasn't afraid to say what she thought even though she knew who he was. He liked that.

"Why did you blow them off?" her face fell "They just wanted one picture.”

Raleigh thought well of the next words he was going to say. It was obvious that he had behaved like a total idiot and that she had been uncomfortable with his reaction, but he didn’t regret it.

"Everyone always wants something.”

"Well, you certainly live up to your reputation as a jerk.”

He didn't take it as an offense, he liked it that she told him. He had forgotten the last time someone said something they thought directly to his face. Honesty was a value that hardly existed in that industry, he was tired of people licking his boots and telling him how good he was when he was really behaving like an idiot.

“Oh, so you do know who I am?”

“I’ve heard your songs,” she admitted “and now that I put your face to the name, I know I’ve seen the tabloid covers too.” low blow, he thought  “You’re kind of notorious, Raleigh Carrera.”

Every word that came out of her mouth was like discovering something new about her, perhaps he had judged her too soon. He didn't know what her ability for music was, but the attitude she had was one of the reasons he would choose her if he was on the jury that day. He wondered what it would be like to see her sing on stage, would she be shy and sweet?, would she be dominant and badass?, or would she break under the pressure?, her voice took him out of his thoughts again.

“What’d that magazine call you again? R&B’s timebomb? Puerto Rico’s hottest export?” she was laughing, it was obvious that she was teasing him “I’m used to your hair being longer.”

“My crisis PR team made me get a cut. Going for a more responsible image.” he smiled mischievously “You like it?”

Raleigh knew that he had barely met her, but he couldn't help but feel a certain spark between the two of them, he hadn't spoken so freely to anyone in a long time and it was noticeable that he enjoyed her company because suddenly his head wasn't full of idiotic comments that could make her angry and leave.

“Why did you hire a crisis…” he noticed how she deflected the question “Oh. Right. Didn’t you crash a yacht or something?”

“Or something.” it was obvious that his reputation was something that followed him everywhere “Insurance paid out a couple million in property damage, but it’s all good.” he took one hand to his hair and smiled “I go off with community service. The judge was a fan.”

"Just community service?" she seemed to question her answer "That's so cool." her brow frowned automatically “Every day I read about rich, famous people breaking the law and getting off scot-free.” her eyes had a fire he hadn't seen before “The justice system in this country is broken.”

"You're kidding? It's total bull." he leave aside the jokes for a moment and was honest "Just go to show how fake everyone is.” he wondered if she was that kind of person, and begged with all his strength that she might not be "My team's got me on this PR tour to clean up my image Volunteering, kissing babies, TV appearances- "

“That’s why you’re here?” she interrupted him “You’re one of the mentors?”

“I wouldn’t make much of a mentor.” the truth was that he thought it would be a disaster “But I’m judging for the finals next week.” Raleigh waited her answer with a smile.

"Well..." she began "It's good that you're giving back."

"Sure, but does count if I'm faking it?" he laughed, she shook her head and laughed too, for some reason she felt he could be transparent with her.

“If you act like the best, kindest possible version of yourself… that’s what you’ll become, right?”

“So you’re a singer and a philosopher?”

She chuckled “I think all the best songs have a philosophy behind them, don’t you?”

Raleigh felt like his whole body was pushing him directly towards her. He started noticing every detail of her face, her hair, her gestures, the way she stood up, he tried to read her but couldn't, she was totally unpredictable and that made his head spin trying to figure out what she would say next. It was strange for him, he had not felt that kind of attraction to someone for a long time and found it in the least expected place, now more than ever he wanted her to stay, he knew that if she didn’t get the spot he would never see her again, and at this point she already had his attention too much to let her go.

"Next up… contestant #9276!"

He looked at the number Hannah had on her clothes.

"Sounds like you're up."

"Oh my god!" she began to panic "Just let me get my-"

Hannah began to turn her head around looking for the one thing she lacked for her performance, her guitar. Raleigh followed her movements with his eyes and watched as she quickly approached a seat, where a totally damaged guitar lay.

"I'm guessing a half-strung guitar isn't your gimmick" he said mockingly, but he regretted it as soon as the words came out of his mouth. Looking at her face, it was obvious that she wasn’t planning to play it.

"This is my nightmare." she said, he could see how her eyes began to water.

It was obvious that someone sabotaged her, perhaps the black-haired girl who had previously been arguing with her. A few tears began to fall from her cheek and he felt the urgent need to stop them, he might be an idiot, but she didn't deserve what was happening to her. Her personality captivated him and he was curious to find out if her talent would have the same effect on him. He looked at the guitar he brought with him, it was the first time he felt like he really wanted to do something good without expecting anything in return.

“Come on, Hannah. All you gotta do is ask.”

"Ask what?" she wiped the few tears that had fallen, her expression was now serious, you could say even confused.

"To use mine." he said, grasping the guitar next to him and extending his arms for her to grasp.

Her panicked face returned "This costs more than my life!”

"Cost? No clue about that. Prince gave it to me as a birthday present years ago.”

“Prince gave you this guitar?" Hannah opened her mouth completely, she looked cute when she made those facial expressions "Raleigh, I can't. What if I break it?"

"Nah, you're not gonna break it. It's sturdy. Here. Try.”

He extended the hand holding the guitar towards her again, he could see the doubt in her eyes. After a moment she smiled and took the guitar, and he felt her fingers touching his, the two looked at each other with a smile. Hannah tried the guitar and by the way she grabbed it and played, Raleigh realized she was really good.

“Oh, wow. This sounds phenomenal, and it’s not even plugged in.” her smile vanished again “Still, I couldn’t live with myself if I accidentally wrecked your guitar.”

“Look, just take it.” he said without giving it any importance “Besides, I wouldn’t mind an excuse to run into you again.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she said excitedly “I won’t let you down. Or destroy your guitar.”

“Relax.” he said, feeling as if his cheeks had warmed up a little “Get in there.”

Hannah gave him one last smile and entered the auditorium. He entered through the next door leading to the seats, could see Hannah getting on stage, clearly more nervous than before. Her eyes fell on him as she walked to the center of the stage, and he indicated that everything was fine by raising his thumbs up. He could see how her body relaxed a little more after that gesture. She began to speak in the microphone, but he felt his cell phone vibrating inside his pockets, so he took advantage of that time to check the messages that had come to him all day.

It wasn't long before a soft melody flooded the room. Raleigh raised his head quickly, almost in shock, and saw her behind the microphone. Hannah was smiling confidently as she sang and played the guitar with ease, moving her body back and forth slowly to the rhythm of the song. He felt all his senses were now focused on her, and his heart began to beat a little faster. Her voice was undoubtedly one of the best he had ever heard, the notes were in place and the lights in the auditorium made her look even more beautiful from where he was, almost like an angel signing a song for them. Their eyes met in the middle of the song and he could see the intensity with which she looked at him, as if through the music could say millions of things that couldn’t be said out loud. Raleigh knew that music could arouse all kinds of emotions, but that was the first time he had felt that way, it was as if he could sit and listen to her singing for hours. Everything about her attracted him, she had a unique personality, she was unpredictable, she was not afraid to say what she thought, or to take what she wanted. She was sweet but at the same time demanding, and she had a talent that would embarrass even the greatest musicians who at that moment were outside earning money by singing with auto-tune and repeating the same words a thousand times.

When the song ended, she couldn't stop smiling. He knew one of the mentors was going to choose her, there was no possibility of her being left out after such performance. If it was him, he would have chosen her the moment she started the first sentence of the song without hesitating or thinking twice. And it wasn't just because he was attracted to her, but because really, with all the things he had seen, she had everything she needed to become a star. The inspiration he had found in her was undeniable, and without a doubt he would have written for her a few paragraphs of a song if he had a pencil and a piece of paper at the time. She came down on stage and he followed her behind the curtains. Her smile was big and her eyes were filled with tears of happiness. He approached her with a smile.

"You looked pretty good up there. You just might be the real deal."

"Sure hope so. Thanks for letting me use your guitar.”

He remembered how beautiful that guitar looked on her in stage. There was no way he could get his guitar back without thinking about her every time he looked at it.

"You know what, I think you two belong together. Keep it.”

"You're giving me this guitar? But it was a gift! From Prince!” her eyes opening wildly.

"Yeah, when I was an up-and-comer. And now I'm paying it forward to a new one..." he lied, he had not intended to give her his guitar, at least not until that moment. Also, he liked the idea of her having something to remember him by.

"O- OKay," she said unsure.

"See you later." Raleigh said.

"Yeah," she said with a sweet smile "See you later.”

By the time Raleigh arrived again, he could see Hannah smiling happily next to Avery on  the stage, a sense of pride and relief invading every part of his body. He had not erred in believing in her talent, and he was sure that she was destined for great things. But best of all, from now, the two of them would be able to share more moments together, or at least that was what he expected. After a speech he obviously didn't pay attention to because his eyes were still focused on the new girl who had awakened something in him, he saw everyone leaving the auditorium. He began to move with the people and for a moment found himself back with her, who was still on stage.

"Congrats. Hope you can handle the spotlight." he said with a satisfied smile, and closed the doors behind him.

Raleigh couldn't stop smiling, and if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that she was going to be trouble for him for the rest of the competition.