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boobersandstuff · 3 months ago

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Yap to me abt smth! Literally anything just tell me abt smth you enjoy! Go into as much detail and write as you want! Could be a sentence or an essay i rly dont mind :]

Imma yap about my ocs, specifically a side character I really love! (This is gonna be long so get your seatbelts ready lol.) Her names elley, and her entire story is about abandonment issues and how it can effect someone, badly most of the time, and how she still deserves love. How she's only human and learns that no one's going to leave her, growing as a character.

Basically it all starts when she's 7 years old and her brother is 4. Her & her dad are like this 🤞. Super close. But her & mom divorce, and soon she's heavily neglected by her mom. Elley believes she's the reason her dad left her, if only she didn't do XYZ then she would still be happy and not miserable.

She also has a best friend, Lucy. She's been with her through it all. And because of those 2 traumas, is scared that, if she doesn't do something to protect their friendship, she'll leave her.

A good example of this being her & bears dynamic.

Elley started a band with Lucy, it was just supposed to be the 2 of them but after a lot of pleading, elley gives in and let's bear join too. he's the drummer.

Whenever bear or Lucy would talk, elleys brain would be sent alarm bells and she'd get really anxious and start thinking that if she doesn't do anything, she's going to leave her. So she'd always be around them, watching like a hawk, and would start trying to push bear away from Lucy. Not outright mean but still pretty mean.

Bear, oddly enough, never takes any of that to heart and knows she probably can't control it, and is overly understanding.

One time they meet up by conwinsadence in town and hang out at a local Cafe. They actually get along, just fine and are... kinda friends. Even if the entire time elleys trying to hate him, which she can't.

One day though, Lucy finally works up the courage to tell elley off for this as polite & nicely as she can. Basically asking her to stop and that it's really mean and she doesn't like it and she wants to make new friends.

Elley, reluctantly agrees. She stops, she backs off. After that Lucy meets koia (the 2nd MC) who is the person she's been looking for, for a long time. Her long lost best friend.

The next couple of weeks Lucy slowly But surely (and unintentionally) starts blowing elley off and becomes really distant with her. She's completely hyperfixated on koia and having her friend back.

Elley, in reaction to this, sees the signs and... immediately thinks that she's losing her. That there's nothing she can do, she's leaving! That her worst fears came true. She stopped protecting their friendship and she left! She, left!

In a manic episode sorta way (ig?) She decides that, if shes leaving, she's having the final words. So when she sees her again at band practice, she EXPLODES! SHOUTING! SCREAMING! PROJECTING ALL OF HER HURT & INSECURITIES AT HER! TELLUNG YER SHES THE REASON SHES LIKE THIS! the others are there (ruby, bear, koia), and watch in horror as Lucy just stands there, frozen, and scared.

When elley stops, she realises she messed up, because Lucy's shaking and... crying? Lucy starts having a trauma response because she's been in a physical abusive relationship with a god for millennia. The one thing he always does before hitting her is screaming that she's the problem. That it's all her fault (even if it isn't.)

Elley looks at everyone. Ruby confused and angry, koia comforting Lucy, and bear... oh bear. He looks confused and... sad? Concured? It doesn't matter.

Elley runs away. She runs home and blows up at her mom when she's being a bitch (so all the time). It's very similar to what happened with her & Lucy.

She fully runs away now. Packing her bags and grabbing her skateboard (she skates btw), and leaves.

She finishes this episode, falling asleep on a public park bench when the sun's setting and its raining. She's hit rock bottom. She hates herself and thinks she deserves all of this. All of it.

When she wakes up, it's dark out. Only being illuminated by the streetlamp above her. She's also awoken by... wheels? Bear! Oh! Also bears disabled btw and uses a wheelchair.

He's found her is so releaved. To elleys confusion. Bear gives her an umbrella and walks her back to his place, to which his mom takes her in and helps her out.

She cleans elley for her as she's so tired she doesnt even have the energy but still wants to be cleaned. I also did that because of that one mitski song lol.

Afterwards she's sitting next to him on the couch watching TV when she asks why he did this. Why he didn't just leave her out there, like she thought he wanted to do because she's awful and deserves it, right?

Bear goes to explain now he genuinely loves her, that he's her friend and he couldn't just leave her out there. That he knew she messed up that day but that doesn't mean she deserves to be left out, homeless in the rain. No one deserves that fate.

Finally she cries into him and for the first time in a long time, believes it. Believes she's loved, Believes that maybe she didn't deserve that. That maybe one day she can go back home, but for now she's living her.

And it's just really sweet :3

Some more stuff happened but I'll stop it there.

Anyways yeah, love her! She's also very BPD coded, which was a total accident on my part lol but I hope ppl like that.

#my ocs #oc #yapping #long post #story #ask #bpd

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buttercupsandboys · 2 years ago

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Sunshine & Rainbows

Alfie Solomons x Livy (OFC) — Chapter 14

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 14: descending into madness

Summary: Alfie meets with Bernard and discovers Livy is missing. It doesn’t go well.

TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, violence and angst

Word count: 4376

A/N: It’s been a while, so here’s a quick recap! (Or click here to read Chapter 13 again!)

Alfie and Livy were having a private moment by the Cut when they were interrupted by Thomas, and Livy learns the men are working with Bernard McCall from the High Rip Gang—the man responsible for her abuse and trafficking as a child. Livy panics and flees with the help of Polly and Esme.

This chapter starts with a small time jump. We’re back at the Cut, only this time, it’s from Alfie’s point of view…

"Livy, I need you to know that I—"

… that I love you.

Fuck, he was so close to saying the words that had evaded him for weeks, but as always, Thomas Shelby has the worst possible timing.

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't. Leave before I shoot you in the face."

Alfie refuses to turn around, his broad shoulders shielding Livy from view, his fingers gripping her hips as he contemplates pulling the trigger.

It’s fucking tempting. After a long week, the last thing he wants to do is talk business. Especially not now, with Livy in his arms, staring up at him with wide eyes and swollen lips. How someone like her finds pleasure in his company, Alfie will never understand. She deserves better, surely, but it’s too late for that. She’s his now, and he’s going to finish telling her how much he loves her just as soon as he can get rid of—

"Bernard and his boys are making a move."

Oh, for fucks sake.

Alfie knew getting involved with those useless cunts from up north would end up biting him in the arse. He curses, slamming his fist into a crate, wishing he wasn’t right all the damn time.

"He's on his way from Liverpool. He knows about Sabini and would like to renegotiate."

"Yeah, I bet he does," Alfie grumbles as he helps Livy down, his frown deepening when her heels narrowly avoid a murky puddle. It’s yet another reminder that she doesn’t belong in this filthy fucking city, but he’ll have to tolerate it a bit longer. There will be no getting out of this meeting now, not with Liverpool proving such a valuable asset.

Begrudgingly, he admits that expanding their network has been profitable. But at what cost? Bernard is no fool; he demands a premium for access to the docks, and now that Sabini’s gone, Alfie can only imagine what else he’ll ask for.

Or at least … that's what he would be doing if he wasn’t so fucking distracted.

Alfie prides himself on staying two steps ahead of his associates and rarely enters negotiations without knowing what the other party hopes to achieve. It’s what sets him apart; while his capacity for violence is legendary, along with his fiery temper, it’s his dangerous mind that’s responsible for his astonishing rise to power.

He’s astute, focused, and cunning.

But not tonight.

After being away from Livy and coming so close to confessing his love to her, he feels more like a nervous schoolboy than a criminal mastermind. Fucking hell. It’s taken him so long to get to this point, to find the courage to say what needs to be said, but with every passing minute, fear and doubt are creeping up his spine, the foreign emotions slowly consuming him.

Vaguely, he’s aware of taking Livy’s arm and leading her to a car, Cyril yapping at their heels, a cutting breeze chasing the setting sun, chilling without the familiar presence of his hat. But Alfie observes these things as if from a distance, still lost in thought.

I love you.

It shouldn’t be this hard to say, should it? They’re just fucking words, and he’s never been short of them before. In fact, he considers himself something of a master when it comes to weaponised conversation.

Maybe that’s the problem.

Alfie uses words to control, confuse, and manipulate; they’re like tiny foot soldiers in his one-man army. He’s confident on the battlefield, making deal or die offers with dangerous men, but here, with her … well, fuck.

As the streets fly by, a blur of grey and cobblestones, Alfie wonders what type of man he’d be if he hadn’t been hardened by life. Would sweet words—soft words, beautiful words, words a woman like Livy deserves to hear—roll as naturally off his tongue as the curses that pepper his speech? Would he have courted her, taken her to dinner at least, before fucking her at the goddamn breakfast table?

He’s never been prone to second-guessing himself, but as Thomas rambles on about Bernard, Alfie tallies his list of regrets. There’s so much he would do over if he could; fuck, he should have sought out Livy as soon as the war ended, protected her like he promised, instead of waiting for her to show up on his doorstep. If only he hadn’t been such a selfish bastard, she would never have set foot in the Eden Club, and those fucking wops would have never laid a hand on her.

Of course, Livy finds trouble wherever she goes, and under normal circumstances, Alfie would never allow himself to wallow in the past. But he’s not accustomed to feeling vulnerable or insecure—love is toying with his mind—-and she’s everything he never knew he wanted.

He’s afraid of losing her, scared of the moment when Livy comes to her senses and disappears from his life. Like a rainbow after a storm, here one minute, gone the next, leaving nothing behind but brightly coloured memories.

His chest clenches painfully at the thought, but Alfie quickly shuts it down. It won’t happen; he won’t let it. She’ll be back in Camden Town soon enough, and then he’ll take her somewhere, somewhere expensive, and tell her properly, be a fucking gentleman for once in his useless life—

“Esme.”

Livy’s soft voice catches him off guard, and Alfie finds himself blushing under his thick beard, grateful for the fading light. The car comes to a stop as he turns in his seat and fights to keep his expression blank.

“Probably putting the kids to bed," Thomas replies.

Alfie nods, avoiding her eyes, sure that if Livy looks too closely, she’ll see right through him. And now is not the time, not with Thomas Shelby watching on silently and Bernard McCall arriving any fucking minute.

"Why don't you go and say hello—alright, pet? I'll come and find you when we're done here.”

Time seems to freeze as he waits for her response, and there’s a strange tension in the air he would normally remark upon. But nothing about tonight feels normal, and he’s never felt less like himself as he hurries to help Livy out of the car, holding her close when she nearly trips over Cyril.

“Fucking mutt,” Alfie growls, his frustration bubbling over.

But to his surprise, his mild-mannered pup growls right back.

Alfie frowns at the odd behaviour, the hair on the back of his neck suddenly standing at attention. His instincts urge him to pull Livy close, to look deep into her golden eyes before she rushes off. But then her full lips brush his cheek, and Thomas is leading the way to the betting shop, and business is business, after all.

He lets her go.

“Right, Thomas, I think we both know this is a waste of fucking time.” Alfie is irate and can’t be bothered to hide it. “He wants a piece of London, and that ain’t fucking happening.”

“Of course not,” Thomas scoffs, pausing to light a cigarette before taking a seat behind his large desk. “But Bernard is … optimistic. Just talk to him, eh?”

“Talk to him,” Alfie repeats dryly, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. He hates everything about this fucking office; the trinkets and the smoke and, most of all, the smug fucking man sitting across from him. “Well, I know this is hard to believe, but I’m just about out of words tonight. So why don’t you stop dancing around and fill me in on your fucking plan?”

With Livy gone, Alfie has finally managed to gather his wits. Bernard is on his way because the Blinders and Jews are dividing up territory, and it’s so fucking obvious he can’t believe he didn’t see it earlier. But Thomas did—and judging from the look on his face, it can only mean one thing: a ridiculous, overly-ambitious plan.

And fuck, he’s too tired for this.

While part of him reluctantly admires Thomas for his initiative, and his ability to twist anything to his advantage, lately there have been rumours of Russians and Americans, politics and weapons, and silly things Alfie wants no fucking part of. Especially not now, with Livy in his life. It’s a ballache waiting to happen, and he has a bad feeling he’s already an unwilling pawn in one of Thomas Shelby’s games.

“We’re just buying time tonight, Alfie. That’s all. Send him back to Liverpool, let him find his head, and I’m sure we can all come to an agreement.”

“Fuck off, Thomas. Do I look like one of your dumb fucking brothers? I know you’re playing at something—“

Before Alfie can finish, they’re interrupted by a loud knock on the door.

“Come in,” announces Thomas, shooting Alfie a stern look.

Alfie grunts, eyeing a pretentious bronze horse from across the desk, fighting the urge to smash Thomas in the face with it.

His temper fails to improve when the door opens, revealing Arthur and Bernard. Now he’s stuck in a room with who he’s sure must be his three least favourite people on this fucking planet.

“Bernard,” greets Thomas. His tone is polite, but he doesn’t stand or offer his hand, and neither does Alfie. “Take a seat.”

Bernard doesn’t take offence. Instead he smiles, a crooked smile, revealing a prominent gold tooth.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he replies, dropping into the seat next to Alfie and nodding when Thomas offers a whiskey. “Straight to business then, lads?”

Alfie huffs. “Well, here’s the thing, right. I recall us making a deal just the other week—did we not?” He strokes his beard before pointing accusingly at Bernard, shaking his finger at the older man.

“Yeah. Yeah, we did, mate. And yet here we are again, sharing air in this godless city.” Alfie’s voice drops dangerously. “So I’m guessing you have something of considerable importance to tell us. Unless you enjoy wasting my fucking time?”

“Wastin’ your time?” chuckles Bernard, sipping his drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his weathered hand. “Oh, that’s funny, that is.”

“Is it?” Alfie glances across at Thomas. “‘Cause I’m known for a lot of things, mate, but my sense of humour ain’t one of them.”

Arthur snorts from his place near the door, having witnessed Alfie’s ‘humour’ firsthand.

“Well, ‘ere’s the thing, big fella. When we was negotiatin’, you failed to mention your plan for the Italians.” Bernard’s smile disappears and is quickly replaced with a menacing scowl. “Now I can’t ‘elp but feel you’re wastin’ my fuckin’ time here, mate.”

Alfie isn’t easily baited, but he can feel his patience slipping away, his temper rising in its place. The more he thinks about it, the less he cares about Liverpool, and he’s not sure how much more he can tolerate from this ugly scouse fucker. Right now, all he wants is to be home with Livy, and he’s not afraid to break a few bones if it will hurry things along.

“Is that so? Well, don’t be shy then.” Alfie leans forward and looks Bernard straight in the eye, just inches from his face, daring him to look away. “Tell us what you want, treacle.”

Bernard refuses to back down. “A third of the Italian’s territory,” he snarls.

“A third of …” Alfie can’t help it; he throws his head back and laughs, a barking sound from deep in his chest, eyes crinkling with amusement. “Right, well, that ain’t ever going to happen, now is it? So thanks for coming. Now, why don’t you fuck right off—“

“I think what my colleague is trying to say”—Thomas gives Alfie a pointed look—“is that London is off the table. But you already know that, don’t you?”

Bernard narrows his eyes, jaw clenched as he waits for Thomas to continue. Alfie follows suit, wondering where the fuck he’s going with this.

“You’re a smart man, Bernard. You know you can’t maintain that kind of territory from Liverpool.” Thomas stands and looks out the window before turning back to face the others. “But you didn’t come here to talk about London.”

“Then what the fuck am I doin’ ‘ere? Since you know so fuckin’ much.”

Thomas reaches forward and places his palms on the desk. “Because we both know I’m a man of considerable resources.” He straightens up and inhales from his cigarette before pointing at Bernard, the smoke coiling between them. “And I have something you lost. Something you want back.”

And there it is, thinks Alfie.

The pieces are falling into place. Thomas Shelby has pulled a bargaining chip out of thin air, and Alfie would bet his left nut it’s because he needs Liverpool for more than his sad fucking gin.

He has a bad feeling about this …

But Bernard grins.

“There’s only one thing I want more than London.”

“Patience,” Thomas promises. “Go back to Liverpool. Give me 48 hours, and I’ll make it worth your while.”

Bernard nods agreeably, leaving Alfie feeling like a third wheel with no clue what they’re talking about. But he knows better than to show his frustration and instead sits in stony silence, hands fisted by his side, fuming as Thomas wraps up the meeting.

But when the door closes, he explodes.

“What the fuck was that?” Alfie demands, coming to his feet, ready to wrap his fingers around Thomas’s scrawny little neck.

“Alfie,” he replies, raising his hands in peace. “I just needed to buy some time.”

“Yeah, you said that,” Alfie growls dangerously, stalking closer. “But time for what, mate?”

Thomas takes a cautious step backwards.

“To call in some favours. I want Liverpool, and I want Bernard out of the picture. It’ll be better for both of us.”

Alfie stares him down as he weighs up his options.

Beneath the whiskey and smoke, he can smell Shelby bullshit, and there’s no doubt in his mind Thomas would play him for a fool. The intelligent thing would be to keep pushing for more details—by any means necessary—before this whole mess has a chance to blow up in his face.

But he’s exhausted and just about out of fucks tonight, so for once, Alfie chooses the easy way out. Maybe he really is getting soft, but right now, he can’t find it in him to care. Not when he has other, more pleasurable, things on his mind.

“Right, Thomas. Well, as you know, I am a man of faith. So I’m going to let your blatant fucking lies slide—for now. But know this. I can smell your pikey nonsense a mile off, and I will only allow your little games for so long.”

Alfie steps back and collects his cane, absently reaching for his hat before remembering its fate. He curses, leaving Thomas with a final warning.

“Do not tempt me because I will not hesitate to end your measly excuse for a life.”

And with that, Alfie stalks out of the room, ready to collect Livy and finally get the fuck out of Small Heath.

“What the fuck do you mean she isn’t here?”

If Alfie thought Shelby men were infuriating, that was before coming up against Shelby women.

Esme leans against her battered door frame, arms crossed over her chest, shooting Alfie a look that would melt steel. Polly stands behind her, smoking a thin cigarette, looking bored.

But Livy is nowhere to be found.

“What are you deaf?” snaps Esme. “I told you she left earlier with your big oaf of a dog.”

His hand grips his cane as he silently counts to ten. Alfie isn’t the type to hit a woman, but he wonders if tonight will be the night he makes an exception.

“Listen, love. I’m just about out of fucking patience. So stop with the bullshit, yeah, and tell me what else you know before I knock it out of ya.”

Esme practically snarls, reminding him of one of the small yapping dogs he’s seen on Cyril’s walks; she looks ready to chew his ankle off when Polly intervenes.

“Look, Mr Solomons,” she proclaims, pushing Esme aside. “Livy left a half hour ago, said she was looking for you. That’s all we know.”

Alfie frowns and tries to hide the panic slowly rising in his chest. “Well, she didn’t fucking find me, now did she? Do you have any idea where she might fucking be?”

Polly shrugs, taking her time, inhaling from her cigarette before continuing. “Ask Thomas. He thinks he knows everything. Let him help you.”

Fucking hell.

At this point, Alfie is so tired he can barely stand, so angry he can barely speak, and so worried he can barely breathe. And now he has to drag his arse back down Watery Lane to enlist the help of Thomas fucking Shelby.

He wonders if this night could get any worse and then berates himself because of course it could. Fear settles in his gut, memories of Livy’s kidnapping fresh in his mind, the worst-case scenario increasingly possible.

Because how could she just get lost?

Lost …

The fear suddenly turns to ice, like glass shattering into a million shards, exploding, slicing him to ribbons from the inside out.

“And I have something you lost. Something you want back.”

He’s still in the dark, still missing vital fucking information, but a sixth sense tells Alfie that Bernard’s visit and Livy’s disappearance are no coincidence. With a speed he shouldn’t possess, not with his sciatica flaring up the way it is, he finds himself banging on Thomas’s front door.

When he doesn’t immediately answer, Alfie signals to Ishmael, who’s been patiently waiting by the car all evening. He has him blow the horn, not caring if he wakes the street. He’ll wake the entire city, burn it to the ground if that’s what it takes.

He promised Livy, promised her father, and promised himself this will not happen. Not again. After years of merely existing in this wicked world, he finally has something real—someone worth living for—and he’s not going to give her up without a fight.

Alfie feels a fresh surge of panic, and he’s ready to smash the door down when Thomas casually opens it, a cigarette dangling from his lips, wearing a bored expression just like his fucking aunt.

“Alfie,” he greets dryly.

“What have you done with her, Thomas?” asks Alfie, his voice deadly calm.

Thomas frowns, an unusual show of emotion. “I don’t know what—“

Alfie slams his cane against the door, splintering the wood, the sickening crack echoing down the empty street.

The floodgates have opened.

“No, Thomas,” he bellows, spit flying from his lips, rage thundering through his veins. “This is your fucking town. So tell me, where is she? What fucking happened to her?”

He reaches for Thomas, blindly shaking him. The fear is so much worse than the last time Livy went missing. Too much is unknown. He can’t make a plan, can’t mobilise his men; he’s fucking helpless, and all he can do is take out his rage on this cunt because Alfie is sure he’s involved somehow.

His fists start flying before he can stop himself, and he must break Thomas’s nose; there’s blood, warm and wet, coating his hands as he drags him into the street. The residents of Small Heath, accustomed to violence, shut their curtains and look away as Alfie continues to unleash his fury.

He knows he should stop—he needs Thomas’s help—but Alfie can feel himself descending into madness, fear and anger blinding him to reason. Flashes of Livy alone in the dark run through his mind, and he can’t control his body’s violent reaction. Every cell is calling for her; she’s the light in his life, and he needs her back.

“Where is she?” he roars, over and over, as the coppery scent of blood fills the air. Alfie barely notices when Arthur and John appear, shouting and pulling at his arms, or when Ishmael cocks his gun, bringing the others to a standstill.

It’s only when another voice rings out, strong yet feminine, that everyone stops and listens.

“She left,” Polly announces, standing in the street, surveying the scene with disgust. “And can you blame her? Look at the lot of you.”

Silence rings out, and Alfie‘s heart skips a beat.

“She left?” he repeats dumbly, oblivious to the eyes on him as his mind struggles to make sense of her words.

Polly nods.

Alfie lets go of Thomas, not looking when he lands in a heap, not caring when his brothers drag him away. His attention is on Polly, and Esme when she joins her from the shadows.

“Why?” Alfie asks, in a whisper so broken he barely recognises his own voice.

But he finds no sympathy among the Shelby women.

“Because she’s not fucking safe here, now is she?” snaps Esme, crossing her arms defiantly.

“Of course she is,” Alfie scoffs, his anger returning. “I keep her fucking safe. She’s safe with me,” he roars, thumping his chest with his bloody fist.

Polly raises an arched brow. “And how’s that working out for her?”

He opens his mouth, ready to unleash hell, but finds he can’t because she’s fucking right. Livy’s been in danger since the moment she showed up on his doorstep.

And Polly knows it.

“That’s what I thought,” she replies, her voice softer this time. “Listen. If you care about her, you’ll leave her be. She’s safe, for now.”

“I can’t just fucking—“

“Yes, you can,” Polly commands. “Get a room at the Midland and clean yourself up. She wouldn’t want to see you like this.”

Alfie wants to protest, but the look in her eyes compels him to listen. There’s more to this, and he intends to find out. Besides, what choice does he have? He glances around and finds himself surrounded by angry Shelbys, with more Blinders lurking in the shadows, their familiar peaked caps concealing dangerous blades.

Yet they keep their distance when he turns away, and he can’t help wondering why they allow him to walk off after smashing Thomas in his pretty face.

It doesn’t add up, any of it.

His hip is grateful for the comfortable bed, but despite the late hour, he can’t fucking sleep.

How could he?

The clock on the mantle ticks loudly, keeping pace with his heart as he stares at the ceiling. Alfie’s deep in thought, trying to put himself in her shoes, trying to understand why Livy would leave him.

Just hours ago, she was wrapped in his arms, staring at him like he mattered … and now she’s gone? What is she so afraid of that she’d leave without saying goodbye? Why wouldn’t she let him protect her? Doesn’t she trust him?

These questions swirl around his brain with no sensible answers, leading him to the real possibility that Polly is lying. She is a Shelby, after all, and it’s not unreasonable to imagine her covering for Thomas and whatever he’s plotting. But if she is, she’s a fucking good liar.

Either way, Alfie can’t figure out his next step.

He could call for men, head north to Liverpool and track down Bernard. He still suspects the fucker has something to do with her disappearance.

But it’s risky. They’d be outnumbered, and what if he’s wrong? What if someone else has her? The last thing he wants is to waste valuable time on a wild goose chase.

Or what if she left of her own accord, as Polly claims, and wants nothing to do with him? The thought is heartbreaking, almost too painful to envisage, but he knows he has to consider the possibility. Is it worth chancing a war with Bernard when he might not have her?

Absolutely.

He’s already written off Liverpool; it’s too much fucking hassle, and there are easier ways a violent man can make a fortune. But more importantly, there isn’t anything he wouldn’t do to get Livy back. With every minute she’s gone, Alfie realises just how much he would happily sacrifice to be by her side. He’d give up a thousand Liverpools without a second thought if that’s what it takes to get her back in his arms.

But right now, he doesn’t know where to strike, and the best he can do is weigh up the odds. It’s all a fucking gamble, and Alfie isn’t a betting man, especially with no clear favourite and so much at stake.

He stands, growling with frustration, fighting the urge to break something, when he hears a soft knock on his hotel door. His heart leaps, hope rising in his chest as he crosses the room in two long strides, praying he’ll find Livy on the other side.

For a moment, he swears he can smell her sweet scent, cherries and vanilla, flooding his nostrils and warming his heart. But then he flings the door open, and his smile disappears, disappointment washing over him when he sees Polly and Esme instead of his beloved.

His first instinct is to slam the door in their smug faces, but fortunately, the logical side of his brain takes over. He takes a deep breath and arranges his features into what he hopes is a welcoming expression.

“Come in,” he invites, standing aside.

Polly nods, sweeping into the room like she owns the place (and probably does). Esme follows close behind, looking less than pleased to be there, throwing herself into a chair by the window and planting her boots on a small table.

“Please, make yourself comfortable,” mocks Alfie, sweeping his hand in a broad gesture and making no effort to hide his irritation.

“What was that?” snaps Esme, staring him down as she deliberately ashes her cigarette on the carpet.

He glares back. “Did I stutter?”

“Fuck off, you—“

“Enough!” shouts Polly, coming to stand between them. She turns to face Alfie. “We didn’t drag ourselves out in the middle of the fucking night for the fun of it. Now, do you want to bicker like a child, or do you want to find Livy?”

That shuts him up. He gives a slight, sober nod.

“Good. Now take a seat. We need to talk.”

Tag List: @noz4a2 @confessionbrain @omgeternal @potter-solomons @quarterpastmidnight @woofgocows @shaddixlife @redhead7799 @cillmequick

#Livy x Alfie #Alfie Solomons #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons x ofc #peaky blinders alfie #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fandom #peaky blinders fanfic

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bunnyywritings · 5 years ago

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no one else but you

Greed x fem!reader

[a/n: thank you for another request! It’s been a hot minute since I re-watched FMAB so I’m a little rusty with the characters. I think I made him rlly soft here...This is set after Promised Day with a twist! Greed lives, has control over his body and tries to start a new life with his s/o. What’s in BOLD is the reader dreaming. enjoy! -yours truly, bunnyy-`ღ´- ps. I 100/10 do not recommend writing after being awake for like 29 hours lol I lost my train of thought waaaaaay too many times while writing this ]

“What? You thought I still wanted to be with you?” The disgust in his voice made the pit in your stomach grow. “You seem to forget who I am. I’m Greed.”

“But I thought-” You were cut off by a scoff.

“I didn’t think there was anything useful in there.” The was he was belittling you was the last straw, your shoulders shaking uncontrollably as tears streamed down your flushed cheeks like a waterfall.

“W-why are you s-saying these t-things? This isn’t l-like you!” You pleaded.

“Yeah, well that was when the twerp was still in charge. I hate to break it to you sweetheart, you don’t know me at all.” A wicked grin curled his lips, the hardening of his outer-shell grabbed your attention. It encased just his arm. Before you could say anything else, he used that hand and grabbed you by the throat. His grip was deadly as he picked you up from your knelt position on the floor. “Now if you’re done with your yapping, I don’t need you anymore. You were nothing but a hindrance.” he emphasized his words with a growl before tossing you onto the bed,

“Good riddance, (y/n).”He spat and you watched his back as he walked past the doorway.

“N-no! Greed! G-Greed please! Please d-don’t leave me!” Your hoarse voice fell onto deaf ears. “Please don’t go...”

You jolted awake in a cold sweat, tears leaking from your eyes as you curled into yourself, tugging the duvet closer to your body.

Greed had been away for about a week or so, saying he had “things to take care of.” Whatever that meant, you had no idea. You just knew that it had nothing to do with this ‘Father’ character either, but you never really questioned Greed. You trusted him. Even if he was a homonculous and even if he was an ex-member of a secret military that tried to take over the government. With Greed’s newfound freedom, he was eager to start over. Start a new life with him. He was different though, it wasn’t like ‘GreedLing’ as Edward liked to call him, he was completely greed. Through and through. It was like a total personality change. He still respected you and loved you, there was no doubt about it. However, you couldn’t help but feel inadequate when he would return to your shared apartment after running an errand and would brag about how many girls, and guys, wanted his attention. Saying things about how gorgeous/handsome they were, and how they basically threw themselves at him. Not to mention all the perks that he had received by just existing. Discounts on clothing, or the butcher lady “looking the other way’ and giving him an extra pound of meat, free of charge. Slowly, your insecurities came into the light. Being afraid that one day he’d find another girl that you were no match for. One that had an amazing body, smarts to match his wit. You feared it so much that it was a recurring nightmare that you had been having for weeks. Greed had noticed how off you were acting and asked if you were okay and not wanting to burden him with your silly thoughts, you just shrugged him off. Fake smile painted on your lips as the phrase, “I’m fine.” seemed to leave them at least 4 times a day.

He had called you a day or two ago and said that he’d be back soon. How long was soon? Had he already found someone else? Were you really someone that wasn’t worth his time and attention....pfft. What were you thinking? Of course you weren’t, he deserved so much better. He deserved a girl who wouldn’t hate what she saw in the mirror. He wouldn’t want a girl who wasn’t smart and witty like he was. He’s Greed. He only wants, and deserves, the best of the best.

These thoughts plagued your mind as you went through the day, trying to fill the time. Doing useless things. Cleaning everything at least 5 times over, or picking up a book and getting comfortable on the couch only to put the book down 15 minutes later. Mind racing with unanswered questions and suspicions.

As the day passed by and the sun started to say its final goodbyes with an array of reds and oranges smeared across the sky, the fear in your tummy swelled. You reluctantly got ready for bed, dreading every second that passes by. Hours passed, you laid in the dark resisting the way your heavy eyelids dropped closed. If you didn’t sleep, you didn’t dream. Simple. Easier said than done.

Disappointment filling your entire being as you gave in. Letting your eyelids shut and sleep tug at your subconscious mind. An surely enough, those fears plagued your dreams. Leaving you to toss and turn in the sheets, mumbled phrases escaping your lips.

“(Y/n) this is Lust, she’s an...old friend.” During that pause, you definitely didn’t miss the way his eyes were running over the curves of her scantily clad body. A thing, serpentine smirk grew on her lips. The dark crimson color shimmering under the golden light of mid-day. “I thought it was finally time for a change of pace so, it’s time for you to go.” The grin on his lips was playful but his eyes were piercing into you, in any way but playful.

As you looked her over, you weren’t surprised why he had picked her over you. Her breasts were perky and perfect, her curvy yet slim body was enticing in a way that yours never could be (so you thought), her lips may have been thinner than yours but they seemed to fit her small frame perfectly. Her stomach was flat and probably didn’t protrude when she sat comfortably (it so did), and the way Greed was hungrily eyeing her definitely gave away his own selfish intentions of getting himself off.

“What? But w-where would I-“ your stutters were cut off by Greed making an exclamation.

“And she has a fully functioning brain. Unlike the poor excuse of a walnut, that you no doubt have, as a brain!” He chuckled, you couldn’t believe he was going this far to be cruel. You were so distraught that you hadn’t noticed the tears falling from your face. “Great! And here come the water works again!” Greed scoffed.

The one thing Greed hadn’t expected when he stepped into the apartment was to be instantly met by your screams. It was what you said that made his heart ache.

“Greed! Please, please I know t-that I’m not enough but-” He stopped at the door, it was open just a crack but it was enough to see you sit up, eyes wide and tears trailing down your cheeks. He watched with a broken heart as you approached the mirror.

“Of course he doesn’t want you. Who would?” You started to prod at your tummy, then at your thighs, before your hands moved upwards and cupping your breasts a bit, holding them up a bit before you let them drop naturally and went to pick at your skin. Scowl permanent on your beautiful face. “He deserves better than-than trash.” That was it. He shoved the door open, causing you to jump and turn to him.

“G-Greed? You’re back?” You were slightly afraid as you watched his towering figure march over to you. Clenching your eyes shut to endure any verbal abuse he was going to inevitably spew at you...but it never came. Instead, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you into his chest.

“Why are you saying those things? Hmm? Why are you hurting my pretty girl?” You were taken aback by his reaction. Why were you acting this way.

“N-No, it’s silly...”Your cheeks flushed red in embarrassment, as you shook your head and nuzzled into his warmth.

“It’s not silly if you’re this upset. Now come one, tell me.” He noticed your hesitance and chuckled. “Look, just because I am the way I am. Greed. Doesn’t mean that I don’t care for anyone else.” He assumed he guessed correctly on the reason you sere so upset. “I love you.”

“Are you sure? Because you could have anyone one you want, crave anyone you want and you’d still pick me?” The disbelief in your voice wounded him.

“Yes.” There was zero hesitance. “I would still pick you. Every. Damn.Time.” Tears rose to your eyes once again but they were for the overwhelming feeling of affection in his words. The way he didn’t stutter when he said it caused chills to run up your spine. “You have no idea how much you mean to me, (y/n). You stuck by me despite my faults. Despite my flaws. You loved me regardless of what I had done.”

“Well you did the same for me.”

“Well how could I not? You don’t have flaws.” He cupped your cheeks and leaned down to kiss away the remaining of the tears. He then got behind you and hugged your waist as you both stood in front of the mirror. “Your body is deliciously stunning.” He playfully bit your neck which caused you to squeal a little.

“But what about-?” You had motioned down to the slight pudginess of your tummy.

“What? Your belly? I absolutely love your belly, it’s super soft and it makes you very cuddly. I wouldn’t have you any other way.” His hands then slowly ran up your torso. “And you know I love these. No explanation needed. They’re perfect.” He purred as he gave your breasts the tiniest, most playful of squeezes.

“Greed!” You giggled, falling back into him. All fear and insecurity seeping out of your body.

“Shouldn’t me being with you be reassurance enough?” There was a cockiness in his tone, goodhearted but cocky nonetheless. “I’m Greed. I only desire the best of the best.” He spoke in a powerful voice, one you would fear if you didn’t know him. “And I only desire you, my love.” You made eye contact with him through the mirror.

“Only me? You wouldn’t want someone prettier? Or smarter?”

“Nope. It’s you. No one but you. You’re perfect the way you are and no one else could ever be the one for me.” he gently pushed your chin to move your head to the side, lips meeting his in a passion filled kiss. Spilling all your emotions into it.

“Now...” He gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him. “why don’t I spend the entire night showing you that you’re all that I want.”

Needless to say, after this night, you never once again doubted Greed’s love for you. And from here on out he made sure to remind you every day.

#fmab x reader #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood x reader #greed ling x reader #greed x reader #homonculi x reader #anon ask #anon #request

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deadspace-babe · 4 years ago

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Tin Cup

My first official fic!

This is a simple Julian X Reader. How the day boils down after a night out together. (nsfw and fluff tbh)

We stumbled into the shop at around 3 am bellowing sailor shanties, arms hooked and legs kicking. Julian and I spent all night at the Rowdy Raven drowning sorrows, sharing stories, singing, dancing and shouting sweet nothings seemingly to everyone in the bar instead of just whispering them to each other. Jules was about 6 drinks down and I about 4. I wanted to drink more but I was already tripping and the taste of the salty bitters at the back of my throat kept me from downing anymore. I’m not quite sure how Julian does it but he definitely holds his liquor better. Even though he drank two more mugs of bitter piss than I did, he seems just barely buzzed.

As we pushed and tripped through the curtains to the back our song turned to laughter and we flopped down on the couch almost flopping to the floor we fell so hard. I landed on top, his arms lazily draped over me and his face still scrunched with laughter. God he’s so beautiful like this, when he blushes like that my ears burn and all I can think about is kissing him forever. I lay a small kiss on the top of his nose and his skin lights up a few more shades. With the alcohol still clouding my head I can’t help but wonder how far down his blush goes. We’ve been naked together before but I’ve never really seen him in the light, everything we’ve done together had always been closed under the cover of the night. I didn’t realize how badly I wanted to see all of him until now.

I guess I was staring cause Jules giggles and clears his throat, “You want me to make you some tea mlady you’re looking a little under the weather ya? Or am I distracting you?” He says teasingly poking at my reddening cheeks.

I roll my eyes and roll off of him giving a quick nod, “Earl grey please.” He nodded and pushed of the couch swaying a bit but maintaining his demeanor. As I waited I thought back on the night we had and many before this and how deeply in love I am with this man. Since the moment I met him I feel like I knew. The way he looked at me and trusted me and acted so selflessly curse or not. No one has ever meant more to me than he does. How did I get so lucky.

“What are you smiling about darling? Something happen while I was gone?” He huffs playful while handing me my mug.

“You” I reply nonchalantly. I inhale deeply taking in the smell of soft earl grey and Julian’s black coffee as he figures through my response his face switching through so many emotions. I take a slow sip and let out a chuckle,

“Nothing bad, just how lucky I am” I slump against his shoulder feeling it sag a little at the contact.

“If anyone’s lucky it’s me darling. I never thought I’d be loved by anyone. I thought I deserved to die and was willing to do so for something I couldn’t even remember. You’re the only one to have ever shown me anything brighter than my dim past..” his eyes lowered and his voice deepened, “But here I am sitting next to the love of my life preparing for forever.” His voice lifted and he set his mug down to pull me into his lap. I push back into his chest and sigh,

“Ya ya I love you too you big sap” I put my own mug down and pull him in for a kiss pulling off his eye patch, “My perfect Ilya, you’re worth more than anything in the world” I can’t help but get lost in his beautiful eyes. The red making the grey of his irises stand out even more” I kiss his lids and he lights up again trying to avert his eyes from mine.

He’s so cute I want to hear his laugh I spin around in his lap, watching the surprise on his face as my hands shoot to his sides before he can analyze the mischief in my eyes. My fingers start to move and his eyes widen in fear. He screams falling over immediately,

“NO TICKLING” I ignore his protest and assault his side and neck relentlessly till our laughter and screams fill the room and his tears start to fall. His smile makes me so happy. I cease my assault and lean down kissing the middle of a tear trail on his cheek. He takes my distraction to his advantage bringing his hand to my hips. I feel my body being pushed back and his hands start to move,

“NO WAIT” I yell, He smiles triumphantly down at me,

“NO PERISH” he counters tickling me relentlessly. Eventually after many tickles back and forth, many protests and a few kicks later the fight comes to an end and we’re left a heaving crying mess on the couch just staring and giggling like two teens in love for the first time. “So pretty” he whispers messily locking his lips with mine. Our lips moved together sloppily but passionately. I can taste the bitter alcohol mixed with coffee on his tongue. We break every now and then to trade little pecks and to take in air. He stops to stare for a second “You sure you’re ready for a forever with me?”

I give him and exasperated sigh, “Oh you know it. You won’t be gettin rid of me any time soon.” I say flashing him a cocky smile. I lean up to reattach our lips and a leg comes up between mine rubbing gently. I take a deep breath and pull his lip in between mine teeth. The skin breaks and he lets out a groan. I can tastes the copper in my mouth and he pushes his leg harder. I sigh out a quick laugh, wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him down. I bite his earlobe til the skin breaks and he shudders then I watch it expectantly waiting for It to heal with a confused face. Oh ya his curse went away, I keep forgetting. I realize then smile devilishly “You look so pretty when you bleed and I can finally mark you up now. How about we get a little rowdy and see how deep the bites can go?” I whisper seductively into the offending ear. He lets out a shaky breath over my shoulder and nods into my crook excitedly. He snatches me up off the couch and climbs the stairs, taking them two at a time. As he moves I can feel his bulge press against my pelvis sending electricity up my body.

At the top he gently lets me down, the second my feet hit the floor I take control pushing him onto the bed forcefully knocking a little wind out of him at the sudden movement. I jump on top of him and make quick work of loosening him up as his nerves continue to get the best of him no matter how much he wants it. Our lips knead together and our legs find crooks to rock back and forth releasing some pressure. Though with our height difference it becomes sort of difficult to, you know, kiss and grind at the same time so I move to palm at him instead. Our kissing quickly becomes more and more desperate and so do his hips. I can’t help but to nip and bite and suck at his lips and tongue. I pull away from the kiss a inch or two still holding onto the tip of his tongue for a second before releasing it back to him in favor of stripping him down.

I pull his hand up to my mouth and bite down on the tip of his gloved middle finger, slowly dragging off his hand and do the same with the other but this time leaving a wet stripe on his palm after, making it a point to leave a gentle kiss on his “tattoo”. Then I move to his boots. Jesus fucking Christ those damn boots. They’re so… sexy but so damn annoying. Thigh high tight leather boots. Only Jules. My struggle to peel them off almost kills the mood but the humor of it keeps it light enough. I move back up his body and easily pull away his white button up. I can’t help but stare down at him. I hadn’t even realized the sun had started to rise until It peaked through the open window (hmmmmmm we should probably close that……..or not ;p) sending radiant shades of purple and orange to dance on his face and chest. I finally catch just how far down that delicious blush goes, and oh does it go far, from his ears to his naval. Oh I just want to lick him up I think to myself immediately latching my lips to the cord of his throat and sucking.

He lets out a moan “Y-yes” I make sure to trace the path of his blush leaving light kisses on his ears, then his eyelids, cheeks, smile, and chin. Then a little rougher at his neck, shoulders, and traps making sure to knead the skin in my teeth between kisses and licks. Now down to his chest and belly, I drag my tongue down making eye contact all the while as he stares back biting his lip in anticipation. “Come on I can take it” he grinds out “Just cause the curse is gone doesn’t mean you can go easy on me” I answer him by biting down hard on his right nipple and he arches into me with a low groan.

“Trust me I won’t” I say slyly watching the excitement dance in his eyes. I suck and pull on both nipples and leave bites all down the sides of his chest and stomach before yanking at the thicker piece of flesh right above his belly button where a piercing would go. I yap up the blood I spilled and glide my tongue down to the v of his hips leaving a light red trail behind me.

“You’re going to be the death of me” he whispers. I smile and proceed to dig my thumbs into the deep groves of his pelvis and curl the rest of my hands around his hips digging my fingernails in deep. I tuck my tongue under the hem of his pants as far as I can go and bring it back up to his belly button and he squirms so deliciously at the action moaning my name, I can’t help myself anymore. I snatch his pants off enjoying the delightful bounce of his freed cock and the little wet spot it’s left on his skin. I throw his pants across the room quickly taking my place between his legs. I squeeze his thighs hard enough to leave bruises and suck little marks from the hollows of his knees all the way to the crease of his thigh. The bob of his dick catches in my peripherals and I smile against his skin. “(Y/n) please I can’t take it anymore” I look up to see his dick swollen, bright pink and dripping.

“Actually I think you’re going to be the death of me if you keep looking this scrumptious” I say leaning forward. I lick a nice long stripe from base to tip the swirl my tongue around the head.

He bucks up “AhH please please” I chuckle but do as he asks, so good for me i think wrapping my mouth around his moist heat. He bucks up again and I hold his hips down. Sure to leave bruises. His hands come up and tangle into my hair and he breathes harder and harder tugging lightly. God he’s so gentle with me. Adorable. Right as he gets to his edge twitching in my mouth I pull off with a sickening pop and he groans from the pressure. His pink dick throbs again, soooo cuteee

I climb off the bed to go to the closet stripping my pants off on the way there. “Why’d you leave?” he asks when I come back still panting desperate for relief.

“I have a surprise for you. I didn’t want you to cum before I got it out.”

“A surprise?” He says cocking his head trying to peak around my body at the object(s) in my hand.

“Oop you’re right I think actually have two for you love, or is it three” I smile tapping at my chin as if I forgot. He flushes then changes his shaky smile to a more seductive one,

“Then why don’t you come over here and show me what you’re made of already. Scared?”

“Oooooo after that comment you should be the one that’s scared” I snort shoving his surprises in the bedside drawer for now. He looks a little disappointed (cute). I climb back on top of him kissing him deep and shoving my tongue in even though he’s already given me access. I smile into his mouth and grab his cock squeezing lightly just where he likes and whisper into his gaping mouth that’s waiting for my return. “Here’s surprise number one love” my hand glows a soft blue then starts vibrating quickly. He immediately bucks into me, hard. “You like it? I’ve been practicing just for you babe” I say licking into his mouth which is gaping wider due to the sudden rush of pleasure. I pick my body up off his and remove my hand. He finally lowers his back onto the bed again. Hehe not for long I think smiling slyly to myself. I put just the tip of my finger on the flushed tip of his dick and activate the spell again. He arches again. The vibrations are so fast that his dick is actually bouncing off of it. Small fast little bobs and it’s lighting me on fire. I can feel my slickness growing. Hmmm not yet I wait for him to almost reach his release once more before I stop again sliding up his body to reach the drawer allowing my thigh to rub against him gaining me a quick hiss. I slide back across his body and he catches a glimpse of surprise number two he bucks up unconsciously just at the thought of it.

“God you’re torture” he breathes raggedly.

“Oh you like it that much? I’m so glad. I made it myself” I wink at him while inserting one end of my new glass blown ribbed strap into me smiling quite proudly. The smile quickly leaves as my face contorts due to the added coldness but also the slight release. I pull out the bottle of lube and drench my fingers. I place my thumb on his perineum and pushed then then circle and hook my fingers repeatedly on his tight ring.

“Gahhh fuck youuuuu” he puffs out

“No Jules. I think it is I that is fucking you” I say plunging two finger into his tight ass and curling. He lifts off the bed again practically screaming, damn maybe I should have closed the window. I think, though dismissing it quickly. I scissor and stretch him making sure he’s ready while making my thumb vibrate on that sensitive piece of skin right between his balls and his ass (perineum btw) he gasps and I pull out keeping my eyes trained on the hole he’s been burrowing into his bottom lip with his teeth. I move forwards between his legs and he automatically hooks them around my waist while I line myself up. I push in slow and he arches so hard and so high I almost slip out.

“Did I make her too big for you?” I giggle.

“Hmph i-it’s per-fect” he stutters as i bottom out in him.

“Ah my beautiful Jules. What did I do to deserve you” I sigh.

“You know I want to kiss you so bad right now but you’re too damn short. I can’t reach.” He says heavily, craning his neck down to try to reach.

“Geez don’t rub it in. It’s not my fault you’re a whole 6’4, fuckin Sasquatch imma whole foot shorter and I’m the one wrecking your ass so stfu” I puff thrusting hard.

“HmPh aggressive” he says wiggling his eyebrows at me. I plant my fists at his sides and thrust harder.

“You know it ;)” I say with a cocky tone even though I’m struggling to find a rhythm. He keeps slipping and shifting upward I can’t keep him steady. I yank his hips down closer to me, lean forwards on his chest and hook my arms back and behind his shoulders. Hmmmmm much better I sigh finally having a stable hold to create a solid rhythm so he doesn’t slip every time I thrust. I push harder, pulling almost all the way out each time to slam in hard than the last. At this point he’s a babbling mess. Hmmmmm on second thought I hope everyone in town hears this music ;) I can tell he’s coming to his edge. He brings his hands up to rest on mine as they dig into his shoulders for grip. I swear just his touch on my hands as he bounces on me feels like enough to destroy me. My pussy is annihilated honestly. Just at the sight of him. God I really do love this fool. I leave small kisses on the skin I can reach leaving quiet encouragements in between each. He lets out a loud choked off moan and arches hard suddenly and I can feel his release shoot in between us but I don’t let up pounding in. I ride him through it and into overstimulation until he’s shaking, screaming, tears start to roll down his face. I pull out slow and he winces,

“You alright?” I ask coming up to give him a soft kiss.

“Perfect.” He says, eyes closed looking completely blissed out. I smile and wipe the tears with my thumb and bringing it to my mouth. He opens one eye to peak up at me “Did-did you just like lick my tears?? You good?” He says in a fake judging tone.

“You know if you think that’s weird get ready for surprise number three love.” I kiss him again pushing my hands up into those soft auburn curls and scraping my nails across his scalp eliciting a little shiver. His shoulders relaxed and I leave a little kiss on his forehead before dipping down and licking the cum off of his stomach making his dick twitch against my chest. I come up and kiss him again tangling a hand in his hair again and letting the fluids mingle in our mouths. With my free hand I open the drawer to pull out surprise number three. Jules is still quite distracted tasting himself on my mouth so I take the opportunity to get started. His eyes shoot open when he feels the cold leather on his neck. I latch it and he looks up at me bright red. “Ooo yes keep that face it matches the color so well.” I say gliding my finger across his new bright red collar.

“You know I think this one might be one of my favorites” he says coming up to kiss me again dragging his tongue over my lips.

“Hmmmmmm get ready surprise number 3 has a few parts” I say playfully He looks up at me expectantly as I grab the rest. Red rope and a red leash to match his collar, all nicely complimenting his hair. The look on his face is absolutely pitiful and so full of lust, his eyebrows are knit together and his lips swollen from bites, his own and mine. I rub his cheek lightly and he pushes into the touch, god.

“Come on” he puffs “I’m ready” he says staring up with half lidded eyes. God not the bedroom eyes Jules I’m dyingggggggggggg. I lean back binding his wrists together tugging to make sure it’s secure. I pull him up so he’s sitting upright and he immediately tugs on the front of my shirt. “You too, please.” To be honest I had forgot I was still clothed from the waist up. I look down to find cum, sweat, and blood stained everywhere, guess I’m throwing this away, gross. I agree and strip off my shirt leaving on my bra, he tugs on that too staring intently.

“Nuh uh you gotta wait for that one” I say smiling pulling his restraints forward to lay a kiss on his nose.

“Mhhhhh I hate you” he groans at me rolling his eyes.

“Is that so love? Well let me show you how passionately I feel about you. On your knees now please” i say in a harsh tone throwing his hands to the side forcefully. He lights up red again but does as he’s told. Since his hands are bound in front of him he lays his chest and head on the bed keeping his ass high. I nudge his legs further apart running my hands up and down his thighs and hips. I hum stroking up his sensitive inner thighs feeling him shiver under me. I reach up and spread his ass then pull back and send a crisp slap to his right cheek. He arches hard letting out a loud groan and I rub the fresh print to ease some pain before sending another hit to the other cheek. I repeat the same action over and over a few times watching his aching cock bob with excitement creating a small pool on the sheets below it. I decide to give him a little release…..but just a little. I press my hips against his ass receiving a hiss at the pressure and cold skin. The heat radiating off the hand marks I left makes my insides throb and my mouth water. God he’s delicious. I try to compose myself leaning over his back rubbing little circles into his wet belly. I make sure to slide the strap right up next to his heat and I roll my hips. He lets out a high pitched moan and tries to lift his head off the pillow. I push him down lower and keep grinding against him with the toy until he’s panting.

“Please please please darling ….ahhhHha” he groans as I push again ��you’re such a tease” he says breathlessly.

“Hmmmm you love it” I say smiling into his skin leaving small kisses. I rub against him a few more times until his breaths get more erratic. When they do I slid up and hook the red leash on the collar and pull. The front of his body lifts off the bed and he lets out a choked moan. “Is it too much?” I ask with worry in my voice. He smiles looking back at me,

“it’s great you know id tell you if it wasn’t” he grinds out pushing his ass up against my hips.

“Mhm just checking” I whisper more for myself than him. I line myself up and push into him harshly while keeping a tight grip on his leash. As I pound up into him his bound arms bounce against his stomach in time with his dick. I pull his head back so far I can feel his hair brushing against my shoulder. I bite hard into the skin I can now finally reach watching the blood bloom and slide down his chest before I could catch it with my tongue. I hear his moans get louder and he starts pushing back onto the glass strap as he reaches his edge once again. I grow slicker and slicker right at the edge of release and I lose my rhythm. I’m so close and so is he but for some reason I just can’t get the right angle and the right feeling for myself so I focus on him instead. I give him a few quick slaps to his thighs and a few more hard wide thrusts that he bounces hard back onto and he comes undone in seconds.

I release the leash and squeeze his slim waist hard to keep him steady, but instead of falling forward he goes back onto my chest his head finding my shoulder and I watch his one red eye roll back then pinch closed in pleasure as he releases all over the sheets screaming my name. We really should have laid out towels. He’s still up against me a panting mess. I let him come down while I untie his wrist rubbing them a little before moving to undo the collar. I put it aside and kiss the side of his face tracing up and down his torso with light fingers. To my surprise he pulls off the glass toy trying not to show any discomfort at the action. He turns around and immediately catches my mouth with his. He runs his tongue along the roof of my mouth and pulls me into his lap I feel warm leather come up and latch around my neck. He tightens it a bit never releasing my mouth. I jump a little finally releasing the kiss as I feel the glass toy being pulled out of me. He pulls it up to his mouth and licks it, cleaning it of all evidence of me.

“I know you didn’t cum” he says tossing the toy aside and inserting three fingers into my dripping heat. I gasp turning bright red and throw my head back, he uses the leash that was still attached to hold my head there. I smile up at the ceiling while he pumps his fingers into me,

“You sly dog.” To my surprise he removes his fingers and the leash to stand pulling me up and wrapping my legs around his waist. isn’t he sore? I think to myself instinctively hooking my arms around his neck. He chuckles sticking out his lower lip to “pout”.

“What I can’t give a little loving back?;)” he kisses me deep and gentle and I feel my back hit wood and a cold breeze rustle my hair. I smile into the kiss but he doesn’t seem to care continuing to kiss my parted lips and teeth, Ilya you fool.

“Oh we’re an exhibitionist are we? I say playfully. He finally opens his eyes and leaves a peck on my nose.

“Aren’t you the one who left it open in the first place dear? Maybe you wanted them to hear us too ;b” I smile and nip at his lip,

“Hmmmmm maybe I did” almost the second I finish the sentence my head is snatched back by the leash and partially hanging out of the open window. He immediately moves to my collar bone leaving sweet little kisses and licks while rubbing himself against me. I can’t help but buck into him and groan out into the morning air. I can feel spit running down my chin, my mouth still gaping as I chased the pleasure. He takes the opportunity to hook a thumb in the corner of my mouth and lick into it making sure to clean the mess I’ve made on my chin. I buck again and bite down on his thumb as electricity shoots through me. “Ilya please I fucked you three times already I don’t think I can’t take much more.” I mumble his finger still tucked in my cheek.

“Oh my so needy” he whispers exaggeratedly lining himself up. He pushes in without warning releasing my mouth and I basically scream out the window for the whole town to hear. At this point the sun has completely risen and I can hear people start to leave their houses for the day. They’re going to think I’m getting murdered or something. I think bringing a hand up to muffle the sound only for it to be pulled back down in favor of removing my bra. He releases the leash but I keep my head in place and help him get my bra off my arms. The second the garment is shed he latches onto my breasts sucking, biting, pulling, licking and rubbing all while continuing to pound me up and what felt like out of the window. I wind my fingers into the soft hair at his nape and pull, the other hand coming up to stroke his face,

“aH jULes I love you SO much. Perfect perfect PERFECT” I yelled out the window again.

He hums happily against my skin “I love you too darling.” he whispers at my collar bone one hand leaving my chest in favor of rubbing at my clit. He circles it pounding harder and I finally cum with a choked scream pulling him closer as I clenched around him and he continues to pump, though it becomes more erratic. He bites into my shoulder only hard enough to leave a small indent (so gentle) and the over stimulation throws me back into the high as I cum again screaming louder than the first. Two more harsh pumps and he’s releasing for the fourth time.

He leaves kisses up the panting column of my throat and up my jaw finally leaving a deep kiss right on my lips that I can’t help but hum happily into. “You know you never cease to surprise me doctor” I say with a wide smile.

“Same to you dear” he says pulling out and lowering me from the window sill. He removes the collar and kisses me again this time rather sleepily. I look over to the bed only to see an absolute disgusting mess on the sheets. Thank god for Asra, I think remembering the pile of pillows and blankets he used when reading in the corner of the room. I walk over too it dragging Ilya close behind and flop down onto the mound of comfort, he follows suit. I roll over to curl into his body enjoying both the warmth and the view.

“You look so handsome covered in purple and blue” I say looking up at his duel colored eyes. He blushes and averts his eyes.

“Ya? Well maybe we should do this more often then.” He states with a warm smile. “Thanks by the way. I have to say that glass work was quite masterful” he giggles.

“Aw thanks. I”m glad you enjoyed it but damn, now my abs feel tight as fuck” I say with a goofy tone.

“Yikes same, my legs feel weak as fuck.” We laugh with each other for a little trading silly compliments and “I love you’s” before dozing off together. God I love this man.

Bonus: Asra runs in panicked after someone in town said they heard screaming from the shop. He bolts upstairs basically screaming only to find the most revoltingly dirty sheets and two just as dirty people in a pile of HIS pillows, wrapped in HIS feather blanket, snoring as loud as possible. “Oh my fucking god I can’t believe these two heathenssssss!” he says running down the stairs to bleach his eyeballs.

#julian devorak #the arcana #ilya devorak #julian x mc #julian x reader #we gettin it tho

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songsofloretto · 4 years ago

Text

Kieran gave me this earlier. I like writing for Kieran. He's a nasty bastard trying to turn his life around which makes him multi-faceted but as a character giving direction he's easy to 'feel'. Kieran never does third person perspective. His stories are always first person and written like a commentary.

Kieran, Nicky, Rory and Matthew

Sainsbury's, May 2021

"Uncle Kieran can I have these water pistols?"

It's been 30 years since I last took a child grocery shopping. It was bad enough in the 1980s with the kids wanting the sweets at the end of the checkout and all that. Fast forward to the 21st century and the problem has absolutely mushroomed, along with the size of supermarkets in general. Before I went to prison supermarkets only sold food. These days they sell everything from sun-dried tomatoes to fecking funeral plans. Nothing is sacred from these corporate giants. There are whole sections devoted to toys so there's no avoiding the inevitable pleas from children presented with their every wildest dream every time you call in for a pint of milk. Our Matthew's grandson is no different. The little lad is only four years old and to him this toy section is like every Christmas morning he's ever dreamed of all rolled in to one.

"Eh?" I say.

Rory lifts a box of four water pistols from the shelf and almost topples over under the weight of them. I grab it quick and steady him before he smacks his head off the corner of a shelf.

"Woah," I say to him, "steady on, our kid."

"I want these water pistols," Rory says emphatically, "there's four altogether. You, me, Uncle Nicky and Grandad can all play with them in the garden."

I look at the box. The pistols are nothing special. I've seen more power in a carrot. But the kid is right. It's a boiling hot day and perhaps an hour in the garden shooting each other up is exactly what this fecked up family needs to bond.

And who can say no to little Rory, who hasn't seen his daddy in over a year. Deaglan has been stuck in New York over this bloody pandemic, unable to get home to his son, missing out on all the drama we have going on here. The kid, innocently caught in the middle of it all, deserves a little joy in his life. I take a pistol out of the box and work my finger over the trigger, pretending to shoot, while Rory laughs and crouches down low.

"Aye you can have them," I tell him, and ruffle his hair with my fingers.

Right on cue the ever uptight Nicky slides up to us, almost falling over himself in his desperation to spoil any fun. He's swaggering about in his police uniform with a stick up his arse as usual. No tie or epaulettes but you can still tell he's an off-duty police officer. The cunt.

"I don't think so," he says rather efficiently as he plucks the box and the pistols out of my hands.

"What the f...Nicky!" I say, and pull the box back from him, "what's wrong with you?"

"I don't think it's appropriate for children to play with guns," Nicky says matter-of-factly.

"Aww!" Rory whines, "please, Uncle Nicky!"

His face creases and I can't bear to see him look sad. I know from experience that arguing with Nicky isn't easy. He's a jumped-up, self-important and arrogant little prick. In fact he's just like me when I was his age. It amuses me somewhat. I know that he'll get wound up like a clock if I challenge his decision - and I'm really trying to make friends with him, honest - but I've got to try and change his mind, for the little lad's sake.

"Well they're only water pistols," I say with a little shrug, "not gonna do much damage with them, eh, Nick auld fella?"

Nicky pulls a straight-laced expression and looks down his nose at me like a seasoned bloodhound would look at a yapping pup. He thinks I'm scum, I realise as we face each other off. He'll always look down on me like this, because in his bright, British eyes I'll always represent the dirty side of Ireland. I feel the vein on my temple flicker. I have to take a deep breath to keep my cool.

"It's not about any potential risk of damage," Nicky breaks the tension between us with a belittling little sniff, "it's about the psychology. Teaching children that guns are good fun and can't hurt anyone is a slippery slip. Before we know it he'll be twelve years old and shooting up his gym class."

"Fuck off Nicky, this is England, not America," I try to laugh off his point but he just keeps staring.

"And I don't think you, of all people, Kieran O'Driscoll, are in any position at all to be encouraging my nephew to take an interest in firearms," Nicky looks down his nose at me again.

I've been trying hard to handle his snooty arrogance for weeks. I really have. But something inside me snaps.

"Why?" I ask, squaring up to him, "because I was in the IRA? Is that it?"

I don't know what I'm doing. I'm 79 years old. Nicky is 45. I haven't got a chance against him in a fight, especially not with all his police training, but it's my pride that pushes me on. I have to stand up for myself, be a man about it. Teach this little arsehole a lesson.

"Yes," Nicky nods his head, "because you dealt firearms for terrorist organisation. And I don't want you playing with any sort of gun, imitation or otherwise, in front of my brother's son."

Deaglan is Nicky's own twin brother. They've never met. They were seperated at birth. Deaglan stayed in Ireland with Matthew, Nicky went to England with Kate. And now he fancies himself as the big Englishman, the creme de la creme of Britishness, superior above each and all other nationalities. And he spent his whole life loathing the Irish for putting his mother in a wheelchair. She was was a British soldier, victim of an IRA bomb, Newry police station, 1975. Sad story.

It was a terrible shock to poor Nicholas Jamie Hawley when he discovered that his father was not, as his mother always told him, a dead British soldier who died for his country in a halo of bullets. His father Matthew is in fact a proud Ulsterman who is very much alive and even did time for murder. Nicky's brain must have exploded inside his skull when it tried to digest this information. When he realised that half of him bled for Ireland it nearly knocked him sick.

But he had to get used to the idea because this pandemic threw us all together under the same roof, forcing us to learn to love and live with each other. And so here we are, factions of a long-estranged family trying to find common ground, and about to start fighting over water pistols in Sainsbury's.

"You'll never forgive me for being ex-IRA, will you?" I ask him.

"Never," Nicky lifts his chin, "once a terrorist, always a terrorist in my book."

"I did my time, Nicholas," I tell him, "27 years in a hell-hole of a prison. Oh Lord I suffered. And I'm deeply sorry for my transgressions as a younger man."

"Sorry will never be enough," Nicky whispers, "what your sort did to my mother..."

I close my eyes. I don't like think of it. And all over some water pistols to make the little lad happy!

The Voice of Reason enters stage left. Here is Matthew O'Driscoll, everyone's favourite peace-keeping fence-sitter. He spent an age parking the car and has only just joined us. He's as Irish as I am but everyone loves him, even Nicky, because...well because he's Matthew. Need I say more?

Matthew is astute. He studies the body language between me and his long-lost son and folds his arms, awaiting explanation.

"What's going on?" he asks.

"The wee bairn wanted a few water pistols to play with," I said, "and PC Gobshite over here has got an issue with it."

Matthew looks at Nicky who blushes a little as if he suddenly feels rather foolish.

"I didn't think it was ok," he says. His mouth is suddenly dry and he swallows, "to promote guns to a child. I'm in Loco Parentis for Rory. Deaglan has trusted me to look after him. I don't want to fuck it up and send the kid back to his dad thinking guns are ok. Because they're not. What would Deaglan think of me?"

He gives Matthew a slow look. Matthew nods his head. He is trying to understand Nicky's perspective. The man is nervous about all this family stuff. He's still reeling from the shock of discovering he has a family he never knew, that the family is Irish, that there is a man out there in the world who shares his face. Appearance and reputation is key right now. Nicky has never been a parent and suddenly, thanks to the pandemic, he's stepping in to care for his twin brother's son. He wants to do a good job. Of course he does.

It's interesting that Nicky never gives Matthew any stick about being Irish. Let's not forget that Matthew did prison time too. In 1994 he shot his own best mate in the head to stop the IRA from kidnapping and torturing him. We've never spoken about the fact it was me who ordered Brophy's kidnapping in the first place. If I'd have got my hands on Donnachadh Brophy all those years I'd have cut his balls off, fried them in Crisp N Dry oil, added little salt and pepper to taste and made the cunt eat them. But not now. I've mellowed out now. I'm not like that any more. I wouldn't hurt a hair on Brophy's head if he were alive today. And I don't deal in guns. Except water pistols because...well they're water pistols for feck's sake.

"You mean you've taken offence to Kieran handling a gun because he's Irish, is it that it?" Matthew asks.

"Not because he's Irish, per se," Nicky says, "but because of...it's because he has previous."

Matthew nods. The simple action brings calm to the situation. Nicky is feeling heard. He relaxes a little.

"I know you still suffer the fear of the IRA," Matthew says to him softly, "I know as a kid they haunted your dreams. You grew up thinking you had to protect your Mammy from them. But it's all in the past, Nicky. Wether we like it or not we're all together now and there are things we have to forgive each other for if we're going to survive this virus. And survive as a family. Because that's all any of us ever longed for, isn't it? It's time to let go, son."

Matthew takes the pistol from Nicky's grip. The police officer tightens but then releases his hold, surrendering control to the father he never knew he had, and letting go of the toy gun. It's very poignant, metaphorical moment. Makes the man in me uncomfortable so I try to inject some humour to make it bearable.

"Fecking hell," I scoff, "who do you think you are Matty eh? A walking example of the Good Friday Agreement?"

Matthew doesn't take his eyes from Nicky's face. A silent agreement is passing between them.

"Shut up, Ki," Matthew says without looking at me, "it's all right, Nicky. We're going to take these pistols home, fill them up with water and have a big old laugh together. Three generations shooting cold water at each other. And it will be safe, it will be ok. Because it's what families do together all the time."

"Ok," Nicky starts scratching at his arms in that way he has when needs to self-soothe with a wash, "we'll have a water fight. Together. But I'll need to get a shower first."

"If it makes you feel better," Matthew nodded.

He understands Nicky's need to be clean better than I do. I've never known a man so obsessed with washing his skin, changing his clothes, marinating in aftershave because unfamiliar smells upset him. As soon as you walk into the house we all share his first question is 'have you washed your hands?' He won't let you touch anything until you wash your own hands at the kitchen sink. Which by the way is a Belfast model. That little detail is lost on Nicky. It brings me a private sort of amusement.

Nicky's scratching intensifies. We'll have to hurry up with the shopping now because he has it in his head that he needs a wash and a preen. If he doesn't get to a shower soon he'll start getting all upset with himself. There's no time to argue now.

Matthew hands the pistol to the four-year-old whose innocence is responsible for bringing us all together. And then we all walk on, four abreast, to find the pint of milk we all came in looking for in the first place.

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dreamofkpop · 6 years ago

Text

Trouble

Stray Kids 10th member AU

Charlie x Stray Kids

requested by anon // requests are open!!!

This all takes place before Changbin’s birthday

(gif not mine! credit to owner!)

“Alright, good job, take a break guys, i’ll be back in a moment”

As the choreographer walked out of the room, the 10 of them relaxed and spread out around the practice room.

Charlie dropped her water bottle onto the couch an zipped up her hoodie, pulling the hood over her head. “Guys i’ll be back in a minute”

“Where’re you going?” Jisung asked as she walked past him.

“Just to the bathroom, don’t worry i won’t get lost”

The boys laughs and chatter faded out as she shut the door behind her and turned down the hall. She walked towards and into the bathroom with her head down, almost bumping into the girl stood at the sink. She was a trainee who’d only joined a few months ago, Charlie barely knew her.

The girl hadn’t seen Charlie’s face and continued to talk on her phone, staring at her reflection.

“Yeah i don’t why she’s in the group!”

Charlie stopped, her hand slipping off the door lock and falling at her side. She leaned closer to try and hear clearer, fear beginning to bubble up.

“No...no yeah, yeah i doubt it, there’s no way they’d let one girl into a group of nine boys” She spat.

‘They’re talking about me...’ Charlie thought, her jaw tensing.

Ignoring the hammering in her chest, Charlie pressed closer to the door and continued to listen, letting the fears prick at her.

“She’s not even pretty! I bet she’s had so much plastic surgery, how much d’you wanna bet she did something to her eyes? I don’t believe for second that they’re natural!” The girl continued to rant.

Biting back a scoff, Charlie closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door.

“Her attitude stinks as well, like her hideous face isn’t enough, she’s a fucking bitch! I don’t how she’s even an idol? Ugly, rude, not even the slightest bit talented! It’s crazy...she doesn’t even deserve to be in Stray Kids”

Charlie’s hand unintentionally curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms hard enough the make them bleed. She could feel her heart start beating faster and tears prick behind her closed eyes.

“Oh- I’m late for my class, i’ll call you back”

As the girls footsteps retreated out of the bathroom Charlie let out a shaking breath she didn’t even know she was holding on.

Unlocking the door, she stumbled towards the sink and placed her hands flat on the surface. Her chest was heaving as her breathing became more sporadic.

“Calm down Charlie, calm down, not the time nor place for this...” She whispered to herself.

Once she’d calmed herself down, she reached up an pulled her hood down. Charlie slowly pulled her hand back and held it out in front of her, staring at it.

‘I’m shaking...why am i shaking? why do i always seem to be shaking?’

Her eyes diverted fro her hand, zeroing on the mirror in front of her, on her reflection. The girls words ringing in her head like alarms.

Ugly, Rude, Untalented...

Charlie sighed and stared at her own reflection, tears reappearing on her eyes the longer she stared, mentally pointing every little imperfection. She brought her hand up and ran it through her hair, sighing sadly.

She doesn’t deserve to be in Stray Kids

“She’s right...” Charlie muttered, bringing her hand down, poking at her face. Her fingers tugged at cheeks, her nails ran over the freckles on her face then the scar on her eyebrow, making her frown. “She’s right, I’m hideous...”

Before she could continue pointing out imperfections, the silence was cut by a ringtone, more specifically her ringtone. She fished her phone out of her pocket and cleared her throat before answering it.

“Hello?”

“Did you really get lost?” Jisung’s cheery yet sarcastic voice rang through the phone.

Charlie rolled her eyes, ignoring the pang of sadness in her chest. “Shut up, I’m on my way back” Then hung up, leaving him no time to respond.

She looked back at her reflection, hurrying to wipe the tears she didn’t even know were falling, before turning and leaving the bathroom, a single thought ringing in her head.

She doesn’t deserve to be in Stray Kids.

It hadn’t been too long since Charlie’s run in with the trainee, a couple of weeks tops, but things weren’t going too well.

Charlie was slowly becoming distant, more reserved, a lot more closed off. It was subtle at first, the only time she’d genuinely spent time with the boys was when they were in London.

Apart from that she rarely spoke to them unless it was necessary. Whilst they were on tour she’d kept herself locked up in the hotels unless they had to go out.

And the boys had begun to notice.

Felix was undoubtedly the first to notice her change in attitude and the way she acted around them. He realized it when they were in Paris and she rejected his offer for some late night sight seeing, usually she was the one suggesting such adventures.

He eventually bought it up to the rest of the boys, who had each noticed their friend’s strange behavior.

“She looks really upset, like there’s something bothering her” Woojin had commented during one of their discussions after a concert, looking back at Charlie who was asleep on the couch behind them.

“One of us should talk to her” Suggested Hyunjin, earning a very sarcastic comment from Minho in return, to which he just rolled his eyes.

Chan, who looked the most distressed by the situation at hand, had offered to talk to Charlie. He only had to figure out a way to get her to talk to him, or any of them for that matter.

Throughout the rest of the tour, Charlie put on a brave face. She brushed off the boys’ concerning stares and questions, masking it with a simple “I’m just tired”

It wasn’t until they got back from tour that everything fell through.

They all sat in the JYP cafe, conversing happily and munching on whatever they’d ordered. Charlie sat in between Jisung and Hyunjin, staring blankly at the table, unconsciously scratching the back of her hand with her nails.

Unbeknownst to her, the 9 boys surrounding her kept glancing at her, sending worried glances to each other as subtly as they could.

Apart from them and the actual workers, the only other people in the room happened to be the two causes of the whole situation. Not far from where Stray Kids sat, was the trainee and her friend, and they were right in Charlie’s eye line.

If she looked up and slightly over Woojin’s shoulder, Charlie would have a direct view of them, which only meant that they could see her too and were probably already gossiping.

Someone reached over and grabbed her wrist, making her snap her head up. Woojin gently pulled her hand away, placing it on the table. “If you keep doing that you’re going to end up hurting yourself”

“like i haven’t been doing that already..” She muttered under her breath, low enough that they didn’t hear her as she grabbed the sleeves of her hoodie and pulled them down to her knuckles.

Charlie straightened up in her chair and her eyes drifted over to the two girls. The first girl, the one who started all this, was already staring over at the, a sickly looking smirk on her face. When she caught Charlie’s eyes, she raised her hand and waved.

Looking away, Charlie took a deep breath in to calm herself and pulled out her phone, opening her messages. Her best friend, Kiko, was the only one who knew what was going on.

Charlie: I feel like i’m about to pass out and idk y. This crap is gettin’ too much [12:05 PM]

She put her phone away and brought her attention back down to the table, subtly listening in on the conversation the boy’s were having. They were recalling something funny that’d happened in Berlin.

The sounds of chairs scraping against the floors caught Charlie’s attention, she looked up as the two girls walked past their table, smirking at Charlie as they passed.

Once the girls were out of room Charlie let her shoulders slump and her hands uncurl, she ignored the buzzing of her phone and closed her eyes.

Another chair scraped and her eyes snapped open, this time it was Jisung who’d stood up, saying something along the lines of going somewhere before walking out.

“Did you see the way she looked at me? It looked like she wanted to rip my throat out”

“She did, as if a girl like her could even lay a hand on you”

“And that sweater!! It matched with her face, ugly as hell!”

“How can the nine of them stand to be around her, she must reek of something”

“I know right! I was getting depressed just looking at her”

The two voices made Jisung stop as he was about to the corner, he carefully peeked around the corner and his eyes widened when he saw the two girls. A bad feeling began to prick in his chest as he listened in on their talk, though he knew he shouldn’t be.

They continued to yap on and on, making snide and crude remarks about Charlie, Jisung’s hands were curled into tight fists at his side. On the one side he wanted to walk up to them and give them a piece of his mind but the other side of him wanted to march back up to cafe.

‘This must be what’s made Charlie so distant, something they’ve said is messing with her’ He thought and then with a heavy sigh turned back down the hall towards the cafe.

Charlie was still absentmindedly picking at her sleeves when two hands landed on her shoulders, making her jump and spin around. Jisung stood behind her with an upset look on his face.

“Come with me for minute” He held his hand out to her.

Reluctantly, she grabbed his hand, allowing him to pull her from her chair and into the hall. Once they were out he turned around and placed his hands back on her shoulders.

“What did those girls say to you?”

In the back of her mind she began panicking, every curse under the sun running through her head as she tried to ramble up an excuse. “Wh..what..what girls?”

“Don’t be like this, not right now, You know which girls i’m talking about, the ones that were in the cafe with us. What did they say to you?”

‘God damn it’ Charlie thought, ‘There’s no way i can lie to him...’

She looked down at her feet, screwing her eyes shut to stop the tears welling in her eyes, messily fumbling with the ends of her sleeves.

“Charlie, hey, look at me. Tell me what they said, please” Jisung practically pleaded. He moved one of his hands to the side of her face, a sad smile appearing on his lips when Charlie leaned into his touch.

She shook her head, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth. What sounded to Jisung like a sob came from under her hand, immediately making him more worried.

“Charlie, baby, please tell me what they said. You know none of us can help you if you don’t tell us.” He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arm around her securely.

After bottling it up for so long, Charlie finally broke. Her arms wrapped around Jisung’s torso tightly as she started sobbing, everything from the past couple of weeks finally flowing free.

Holding her to him tightly, Jisung rocked side to side gently, he brought one hand up to the back of her head and propped his chin up on the top of her head.

He didn’t say anything, letting her cry as much as she needed to, ignoring the tears slowly forming a puddle on his shirt.

Once Charlie had calmed down she pulled back, her hands still gripping the back of his shirt. Jisung took his hand off of the back of her head, using his sleeve to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

She sniffed and shook her head, her hair falling past her eyes. “It’s stupid...i should..i shouldn’t have let it...let it get me”

Jisung frowned. “What did they say?”

Her breath hitched as she breathed in, closing her eyes for a moment. “Just...just stupid comments a-about..about my looks and attitude but...but-”

“Oh Charlie....” Jisung sighed, pulling her back into a hug.

“But she said...that i..that i didn’t deserve to be in Stray Kids” Charlie whispered, her words muffled by the fabric of Jisung’s shirt.

“What?!” He exclaimed, pulling back to look down at Charlie, his jaw dropped. “And you believed them?”

Before Charlie could even think of anything to say in reply Jisung cut her off, his tone defensive and slightly angry.

“Listen to me, whatever they said about you, it’s not true. You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and you’re really really beautiful, like extremely beautiful. I know you’d always try and deny it but you’re incredibly talented and amazing, you can ask anyone you know and they’d agree. Don’t listen to those girls, okay? You deserve to be in the group as much as the rest of us and nothing’s every going to change that”

Tears pricked in the corners of Charlie’s eyes, flowing freely down her cheeks when she blinked. Panic flashed over Jisung’s face when he saw them, bringing his hands up to cup her face.

“Hey what’s wrong?”

Looking up at him through tears, she gave him a smile. “I don’t deserve friends like you...”

As a sob ripped through her words again, Jisung pulled her back into his arms. They stayed like that until Charlie had stopped crying, her eyes red and puffy as she pulled away.

Jisung smiled at her. “Is that why you were so distant? ‘Cause you thought what they were saying was right?” Charlie hesitantly nodded and he sighed. “I’m going to talk to Chan hyung about this, those girls shouldn’t get away with speaking about you like that!”

“Don’t be to drastic, i know what you’re like” Charlie pointed, raising her eyebrow at him.

“Fine fine” He raised his hands in defence. “But you need to talk to the rest of them, explain what’s happened because we’ve all been so worried...especially Chan hyung and Changbin hyung”

Charlie nodded and tugged on her hoodie. “Fine, i will”

Footsteps sounded behind them, stopping a bit behind them. Charlie and Jisung turned and saw Woojin standing there, a kind smile on his face.

“You two okay? You’ve been out here a while” He asked, walking up to them.

Following a small nod, Charlie walked up to Woojin and wrapped her arms around him. The older boy was shocked at the sudden action, but he was quick to hug her back.

She smiled at him. “Everything’s good, everything’s finally good”

#female!straykids #stray kids 10th member #female!kpop #kpop female addition #kpop female oc #kpop oc #kpop au #stray kids oc #stray kids au #stray kids female addition #stray kids female oc #stray kids #skz #stay #charlie kim #kim taeshin #stray kids charlie

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royal-writer · 7 years ago

Text

T E A S E R

I’m working on this again. It will be done.

Day 1

It wasn’t going to be a good day.

He could tell from the sharp ache in his legs. The stairs already were proving a challenge so early in the morning even with a white-knuckled firm grasp to the banister.

One step at a time, he reminded himself. He could still do this-

A steady hand found his waist. It slipped around his frame to grasp him as he stood rigidly; aware of the way he wavered. His freed arm on his left side was tugged upward with encouragement.

Amon latched on to the supportive shoulder offered with a ragged breath. An apology already flickered in his eyes and fastened ahold to his features as he turned to look at the allure of a face so radiant it still gave his feeble old heart a flutter.

No mortal should be this impossibly angelic.

She was so sublime. The profile of her body still so delicate; thinness wrapped in warm tones off autumn skin marked with time. Years of hardship; scars from battles lost and won, dark marks from the sun on her skin as well as in black hair with shades lightened on top and sneaky strands of silver curling out here and there.

She wore only a plain pair of beige trousers and a simple blouse today. It was perfect of course; everything she put on looked lovely and grand on her. Paling in comparison to her luster; no dress, jewels, lingerie or simpleton clothing; not a single piece coming close to the scale of her divinity.

And her caramel colored eyes, holding the windows to a beautiful soul that held the key to his heart. The most lively shades of all in those eyes; never having changed a day even as age crept over laugh lines. Even as time defined the area beneath those eyes with puffiness and wear.

“You wouldn’t mind escorting an old woman down the stairs, would you?” she teased; her voice a musical gentle chime.

He scoffed softly, rubbing his fingers into her shoulder.

“If you’re old, my darling Essätha, then I must be prehistoric.”

She gave a noise of disagreement in the back of her throat. Leaning in just enough from her waist to avoid pressing weight into him, she kissed his cheek.

“I only see a rather dashing man beside me, m’lord Amon,” she purred all too sweetly. “A very handsome, very sweet, very lively gentleman who looks gorgeous; and whom still finds all the energy to chase me down the halls and raise his sexy commanding voice to gain control in a room full of bickering noblemen.”

His smile grew vaguely puzzled as she kissed his nose and reached up to brush some stray white hairs back from his forehead. What did she mean by raising his voice at noblemen?

There it was again. The look of dawning fear that faded in and out of view each day.

Amon smiled tightly, trying to find the answer to replace the pain in her eyes with the endearing look he longed for. But his thoughts, alas, continued rounding on her comment.

“T-That’s okay,” she breathed, urging him to take a step forward with her as she looked away. “It- It was a long day yesterday. I’d push it out of my thoughts, too. Those dukes; phew, they sure don’t know when to pick their fights but you had them just so under your heel.”

He… had?

“I mean one could hardly get a word in! Yapping on and on about the highland forests. They’re not up for negotiation; it’s not a good place to consider placing a trading post and building a town but do they listen, heavens no! Forget the fact there’s a peaceful fey population there living undisturbed. Forget the fact it’s inhabited by vicious wildlife that would surely tear apart any construction and scare away potential citizens.”

Essie gave a sniff as she finished her rant, looking to the opposite hand rail as they took a few more gradual steps down the stairs.

She was crying again.

He knew that sound. Knew it all too well, as of late. It wasn’t a breath of irritation from whatever incident she spoke of. It was a desperate, stuffy-nosed inhale to calm herself.

His hand dug into her shoulder blade. Agony sweeping through him; so desperate to console her, to make it better-

And then a different agony; splitting in his hip and stealing his strength.

A string of curses in various languages as his leg gave out and he slipped.

He should have fallen, really. She was much too small to hold him up but she was feisty and she was determined. His amazing wife; so gentle and so kind, locked her arm around him tightly. Holding him there at the waist against her side with labored breath as he tried to steady himself.

“You’ve got this,” she whispered, her voice broken.

He had this.

He could do this.

Amon gingerly rested his feet back on the stairs. Testing his weight, finding that there was only an ebb of pain now in his side. Most if it had radiated down to his ankles instead. Tolerable. He hurt much these days; this was nothing compared to… he lost his train of thought. Had he felt worse before?

“Miss,” Essätha’s voice cut into his muddled thoughts. “Would you mind fetching a chair?”

Coming to, the Illiad heir blinked tiredly as he spotted the young maiden walking down the hall ahead at the end of the stairwell. She curtsied respectfully, and stole away with haste.

“I’m so sorry my dear,” he muttered angrily, looking down at his feet to balance his steps as they followed their descent.

“That’s okay,” Essätha encouraged, her voice choked with emotion. “You’re doing just fine, my beloved. Let’s just focus on getting you off these stairs and sitting on something sturdy and comfortable.”

Comfortable. Nothing felt comfortable these days.

Nothing but the softness of her touch, so careful and unfaltering against his side. Nothing but her love, still so strong and true as it had ever been.

Much as he didn’t want to, Amon allowed himself a glance over to her. Hoping to catch her eye; praying to see her loving smile and nothing more. Please, nothing more than the happiness and caressing love that washed over him; bringing him strength where nothing else could. Nothing but her joy; the delight she deserved to have in her heart and written on her face.

She was mostly turned away from him. A vacancy in her gaze.

This was his fault.

Her pain was because of him.

Miserable; with nothing on his broken thoughts to better her wounds, he looked shamefully away.

Completely unaware of her, an opposite hand going to her chest and the stricken flash in her eyes as she held her breath with tormented pain.

#eci artz #essamon ship #Essie rw #amon illiad #tiff teases//

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