#stephen wraysford x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anodyne-sunflower · 6 years ago

Text

100 Years-Stephen WraysfordxReader

A/N: Inspired by 100 years. Went a bit of a different route on this one. It was the first idea that came to mind for this song, so yay. Also, this came out to be a one shot lol My bad.

MOOD MUSIC: 100 Years by FatM

***

Fingers grabbed your dress punishingly, causing an ache that seemed to vibrate into your whole body. It was sorrow enough to feel weak, but to be the only one around fighting to survive...that was a harsher sentence dealt by the gods. “No!” You screamed, kicking your legs and tightening your grip on the soldier’s arm as he dragged you violently into the nearby home. The bombs had done their jobs, and stray soldiers littered throughout the village in search of anything useful. Unfortunately, survivors were deemed just that.

“Stop struggling!” He yelled back, his thick accent hard to understand as either German or Russian. It was never easy to tell now days, you merely ran from anyone in uniform. He threw you down to the ground and searched your body for any hidden weapons. You were likely no cause for concern to most, but it was a fool’s action to pretend you weren’t a possible threat. Yet, you still fought him, scratching at his face and slapping at his chest as he tore the necklace from around your throat. He observed its value with his eye, a smile on his lips as he leaned down to address you. Only those words never came. In a flash of light he was upon you, blood splattered across your face and dress as he gurgled some end to his life and laid heavy atop you. For a moment, you laid there shaking, breath trembling with fear and relief alike. Somewhere deep in your mind you knew it was a bullet that took his life, but your current state didn’t allow that logic to come through.

“Check the other rooms. Make sure every bloody corner of this home is secure.”

“Yes, Lieutenant!”

With a quivering hand you dared to touch the fallen man’s chest, holding your breath tightly as you heaved with all your might. He fell unceremoniously to your side, the thud of his body making you want to hide away in some deep corner of the world. There was no humanity in this, and yet you did it all the same. All in the name of survival.

“For god’s sake, Firebrace. Help her up!” The soldier yelled, motioning for another behind him to relieve you of the duty to yourself. You watched them both carefully, noting the casual way the one in the cap belted his weapon. He was a tall, ominous presence. Yet, through some unknowing force, you felt some sliver of comfort by his side. It was only when he glanced down at you, with those green uncaring eyes, that you felt some fear take you. “Be quick about it.”

He ordered, not revealing any discomfort at the blood that drenched your body now. The only emotion you happened to see in his eyes, was surprise. Perhaps at his own distaste of his actions, or simply at the fact he found any survivor here. But, that expression was fleeting, and you still took it upon yourself to watch him carefully as he reached the corner of the room. His eyes settled on the table there, sometimes glancing out the window cautiously. Although, it was plainly obvious by now, these English men had taken this village for their own. It seemed the one attacking you, was a stray of the Central Powers army, after all.

“Here, miss.” The other soldier, Firebrace, extended his hand towards you. Remnants of a smile on his lips as he awaited your cooperation. There was gentleness in his gaze, but you cared not for it. In your mind, allied or central, those in uniform meant certain death. With little manners, you moved from him, scrambling to the edge of the room and spitting upon the floor he walked on. Damn his kind gaze, and damn his uniform. Those symbols were just patches on a dress tunic. Nothing more.

“Are you hungry, miss?” Firebrace knelt down by you, worn smile still there as he attempted to still your anxious nature. But, you paid him little mind. Opting to ignore his offer of food in spite of your growling stomach.

“Leave her, then.” The one in charge spoke up, sifting though papers on the table as he nodded for Firebrace to join him. “Gather the others. Have them bring in our supplies. This place will do for a command center, for now.”

“As you wish, Lieutenant Wraysford.” Firebrace followed, rushing some other soldiers out the room as he went to retrieve their belongings.

So that was his name, you gathered. It somehow suited him, as if the syllables themselves carried the weight of his duty.

“Is this your home?”

The question caught you off guard, his sudden interest in your life now making you apprehensive. You supposed it would’ve done you better to respond. After all, you weren’t acquainted with this lot, and he could do as he willed with you if he wanted. However, he merely sighed at your lack of response, his boots stomping along the ground as he came to you.

With a heavy sigh, he kneeled down before you, causing you to retreat stiffly into the wall. He rested one arm on his thigh, licking his lips as he offered another question. “Do you speak english?”

It was the first question you felt any comfort in answering. “Yes.”

“You have an accent. Where are you from?” There was distrust in his voice, and you supposed you couldn’t fault him that. These days, trust was in short supply and female spies were hardly an unimaginable concept.

“You can sit there all night if you please. Just know,” he rose back up. “If you’re any threat to my men or me...I will kill you.” There was hesitation in his eyes, yet all the same you knew he meant it. He would carry the burden of life lost at his hands, if it meant keeping those around him alive.

“Italy.” You finally answered, watching as he turned back to look at you. He simply nodded then, and continued on paying you no mind. It was in this palpable silence that you decided to observe them all. Noting the numerous soldiers drifting in and out of the building with boxes and crates. Some were holding supplies, others maps and pages of what you could only guess were plans of a sort. It was as if you didn’t exist to any of them. The greater threat of their enemy was gone, and you were, if at all, of very little consequence.

“Do you have family?” Again, he broke the silence, his gaze still on the papers at his table as he sparked the conversation. It was strange to you, that he’d even care to ask such a thing. Maybe he was lonely, you contemplated, or maybe he was digging for information through the veil of kind inquiries.

“Dead.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He appeared genuinely struck by that comment, but aside from those expressive eyes of his, there was little else to read from his face. “And your name?” He pressed on, though he still seemed preoccupied by those papers. No doubt deciding his next move in this war.

You had to pause at that one, unsure of your response. There was power in names, you were taught at a young age. But, all of that likely meant little now days. The world was flung into chaos and all that mattered was country and cause.

“I assume you have one, don’t you?” He commented, almost amused by your vow of silence towards him.

“Y/N.”

“A lovely name.” A thing all men say, you had come to learn. As if that compliment alone could wash away the distrust you felt. You could only stare at him, eyeing his table like a life line. In a way, it might’ve been. Especially how passionately he pointed at the maps and papers while he spoke to another man dressed like him. They seemed entangled in some deep conversation, not caring in the least that your ears could possibly listen in. For a second, you entertained the idea of running off, but it didn’t matter anymore. Even if you got passed them two, the others could easily dispatch you. There was no hope in getting very far.

“Thank you, Weir.”

“Aye. Don’t go far, Wraysford. Might need you for things.” This Weir waved, patting another soldier on the back as he left the room. They all looked tired, some barely dragging their feet along like they were already dead. Even this Wraysford fellow appeared worn and exhausted, his eyes darkened by the circles underneath them. His hands were dirty, caked in all manner of impurities and it contrasted the way he carried himself. With pride and dignity that you’d come to expect of most soldiers. But the lower your eyes took you, the more you realized just how wearied they all were. His boots, which appeared to be fine leather at one point, were now chipped away at, signaling that the area they came from was not ideal.

For some reason, that gave you the courage to speak up. Wondering on about this man named Wraysford and where he came from. “And you?” He seemed taken back by your question, no doubt surprised by the curiosity now directed towards him. However, his eyes seemed to brighten by it. As if the overwhelming change of topic from war tactics to basic human conversation was preferred and welcomed.

“What of me, Y/N?” He replied, in no particular manner. Yet, the tone of which he spoke your name had a hint of eagerness to it. Like his loneliness was rolling over in waves to be eased.

“What is your name?” You sat unmoved in your spot, fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Wraysford leaned up to his full height, looking you up and down to check for any form of trickery. He had clearly learned far too many harsh lessons by speaking with those outside his uniform.

“Lieutenant.”

“That’s a title, not a name.” You pointed out, observing the corner of his lip almost curve into a smile. A rare thing to witness, you guessed.

“Names mean nothing now.”

“Then why ask mine?” It was almost offensive to you, the lack of trust he sent your way. It may have been entirely warranted in these times, and yet you felt that ache in your chest all the same.

“Lapse of judgement.” He answered, letting the papers he held slip back to the tabletop as he drew towards you. It was like his interest had been piqued, and with that he kneeled once again in front of you. With a stern look your way, he sighed, falling back into the wall and resting his head against it. The heels of his boots scuffed the wooden floorboards, only adding to the damage already done by bombs and bullets alike. You couldn’t divert your gaze elsewhere, so you watched him, noting the refined way he tilted his cap up and removed it. It left his hair a mess, but it only added a charm to him you hadn’t noticed very well before. Up close you could see the fine details of his face, the freckles that dotted every inch of skin. It gave him a less threatening vibe than before and in some way it calmed you. Beneath the cap, laid a human being, capable of atrocities and kindness all the same. Just like you.

“Tell me, Y/N...” he paused, running a hand through his hair as he laid his head roughly back against the wall. He closed his eyes in a mock sense of peace, an official signal of his hint of trust towards you. “How have you survived this far?”

It wasn’t an off inquiry, though you still found it a strange thing to ask. A woman surviving on her own with little food, and no supplies was a likely death sentence. But, here you stood, and only now had you truly thought back on it. Surviving was simply in your nature, you gathered, as it was for everyone. “I don’t know.”

“Hm.” Wraysford chuckled softly, opening one eye to inspect you. There was a strange tug then, like your own curiosity wanted to reach out and graze his cheek in wonder. Maybe that was just your caring side, a symbol of comfort you wanted to offer him. The time for such fancies was over now, though. All you could do was remain silent until he relented.

“It seems that makes two of us. I don’t know how I’ve gotten this far either.”

For him, a lieutenant, to admit to that...it pained you. They all seemed plenty prepared to fight, but in truth, a weapon meant little for survival. It was the mind’s resolve that truly fought this war. You wished he’d see that, because he no doubt had to bare witness to acts no human should see. “I’m...sorry.” It made no sense to apologize, but in that moment you felt for him. For all your anger towards the world and the heartache brought upon you by soldiers of all kinds, you knew he never wanted to harm anyone. Perhaps you were merely sorry for his struggles, or even for him falling into a second of weakness.

“For?” He asked, head leaning up to finally look at you. He held his cap in one hand, dangling it from his knee while he sat there. If it wasn’t for your presence, you were certain he’d of fallen asleep.

“I don’t know.”

“Well,” he looked away. “I suppose we all have something to be sorry for these days.”

Another harsh reality, you agreed. Who hadn’t committed a crime to a certain degree. Whether it was killing, stealing, the list went on. “Do you have family?” You blurted out, wondering if he was perhaps married. It was a strange thought to have, but he was so obviously a handsome man, even beneath all that muck and dirt. Someone with a passion like that in their eye, they had to have someone waiting on them back home.

“No.” Wraysford said, once again averting his eyes as if to conquer the demons of his own thoughts. There was another silence then, for a long while. So long, in fact, the light outside had already drifted to darkness and the other soldiers had begun to pick corners to sleep in. You watched them all, wondering about their own families back home. Were they all as alone as you? Or as lonely as Wraysford seemed? It was a depressing thought to linger on, it nearly soured the entire existence of these men.

“Have you ever loved anyone?” The silence was cut by him, his eyes now fully open and engaged with staring at you. You felt a heat rise to your cheeks, the sudden intimate inquiry bringing back fond old memories.

“Y-Yes...” Once, so very long ago, you thought. Or at least it often seemed that way to you. It was hard to remember how long this war had gone on.

“Dead?”

“Yes.”

He had that expression again, genuine sadness for your plight. It made your heart stir, and for a moment you contemplated letting your tears fall.

“I’m sorry.” He only said, opening his mouth like he wished to add more sentiment to that, but there was none. His words could not bring your love back.

“And you?” You curled your legs closer into your body, holding them to save some heat in this cold. His eyes caught that subtle movement, and he quickly removed his large coat from around him before handing it to you. Beneath the thick article, he seemed thin, yet no less imposing. His suspenders hugged his torso tightly, giving him a distinguished look that suited his status. “Thank you.”

“Yes.” He seemed to finally answer, his eyes centered on his hands as he picked dirt off. It was plain he was trying to concentrate some of his thoughts away from the pain that was so evident in his eyes. At least that, he could not hide from you.

“Is she...” You didn’t want to say it, for fear of harming his heart any further. But, you grew the courage and finished. “Dead?”

His lips fell into a solemn smile, before meeting your worried gaze. “She may as well be...” It felt a horrible thing to even say, but those words seemed to hurt him further than anything you could’ve said. You let him stew in his pain, obviously not equipped with any information or skills necessary to nurse it.

This caused the silence to drift in again, and for a second you believed him to be asleep. Except his voice lingered now, a gentler tone laced within it.

“Stephen.” He stated. “My name is Stephen.”

***

A/N: okay so...not a drabble lol

#eddie redmayne #birdsong #stephen wraysford x reader #stephen wraysford #stephen wraysford x you

42 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

Winter-Stephen WraysfordxReader (request)

A/N: Stephen’s turn! Really couldn’t think of much to do with him, but decided on something fairly simple. Hope y’all enjoy.

MOOD MUSIC: Dearly Beloved by Taylor Davis

***

Having to search your cabin for your husband wasn’t the ideal way to start Christmas, but Stephen had a nasty habit of disappearing most mornings. Granted, he’d always be awake before you doing chores, or simply relaxing outside in the country. He was a simple man, something you admired him for, but every year the holidays proved rather difficult for him. Having grown up an orphan wasn’t the particular issue, but rather he never saw the point of celebrating. You, on the other hand, loved winter and every holiday tradition that came along with it.

“Stephen?” Your soft whisper was met with silence, and as you walked through the home you found evidence he had at least fixed himself breakfast. “Where on earth did he go off to?” His coat and scarf were no where in sight, and judging by the dips in the snow outside he had left not so long ago. Likely making his way into town before the snow melted and the larger crowds came.

“He could’ve left a note...” You spoke your disappointment aloud, receiving an odd look from your dog that waited patiently by the door for Stephen’s return. “Did he at least kiss you goodbye, Scout?” You softened up, smiling as the hound barked and yipped at the mention of his master’s name. Stephen would usually let him tag along, but for whatever reason decided to have him stay back as he ran his errands. “Well, lets go outside and wait then.” You tugged your shawl free from the coat rack, laying the green material delicately over your shoulders. The bitter wind that met your cheeks sent a chill down your spine, and the idea of waiting for him outside was becoming foolish. He must’ve been desperate to leave, because no sane person would trek out into this winter so early on in the day.

“It’s so cold.” You rubbed ferociously at your arms, trying to maintain some body warmth when you took a seat on the porch. The only consolation was the beauty of the scenery, the woods dead and dark but gorgeously draped in the snow. All your life, you leaned towards the extravagance of town, but after meeting Stephen...the country became the only thing you adored. Peaceful, beautiful, and the perfect place to have your family.

“What on earth are you doing out here?” His concerned and annoyed tone caused you to glance up, and you smiled sheepishly as Stephen came trudging through the deep snow towards you. He was just at the fence of your home, basket in hand and scarf completely wrapped over his mouth and neck. Even through those layers, you could tell how bad the freezing temperatures had affected him.

“Waiting for you. Is that a crime?” It wasn’t meant with malice, only a playful hint of marital banter. Besides, he was hardly one to reprimand you for journeying out into the cold. “Find what you were looking for?”

Stephen casually walked up the steps to your porch, removing his hat and revealing the messy head of hair beneath. He looked positively charming that way, like a child that had just come from sledding or playing for far too long in the snow. Judging by the frost that had developed over his coat, that might actually be true. “Yes, I did. Forgive me for not waking you earlier.” He opened the door to your house, greeting Scout before pulling you along with him inside. He wasn’t going to risk you falling ill, all because you had the stubborn idea of waiting on him to come back. “I know Christmas morning means a lot to you, so...” He gently closed the door behind him, a knowing smile on his lips as he opened the basket to reveal several pastries from the bakery you adored so much. It wasn’t a long walk to be fair, but for him to go out of his way on a holiday, when the bakery would surely be overrun with orders and locals...it was undeniably heartwarming.

“You went all the-“

“Way into town for you? Yes.” Stephen chuckled at your shock, laying the basket down on the table and taking you into his arms. In spite of the air outside, he was surprisingly warm and it brought a joyful comfort to your body and heart.

“You’re wonderful, Stephen.” You nestled into his chest, helping him rid himself of the scarf as you dragged it off his neck. The former soldier hummed back to you, fingers softly dipping down your back before he leaned forward for a kiss. His lips felt perfect against yours, soft and inviting, with a slight chill to them that worked magic with your warmer ones. “Mm...” You moaned happily into his mouth, mind reeling at the kindness he decided to show you this holiday season. It wasn’t like he was a bitter person about it, but you usually spent Christmas simply relaxing like any other day. So this year, it felt entirely special because of his sweet gesture. “Thank you.” You pulled away momentarily, still lingering close to his mouth in anticipation of more intimacy.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” Stephen whispered, tip of his nose brushing across yours as he smiled one last time before taking you into another kiss.

***

A/N: 🎄

#stephen wraysford x you #stephen wraysford x reader #birdsong #eddie redmayne #stephen wraysford

31 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

Farewells-Stephen Wraysford x Reader (Request)

A/N: For @jackdawsonsgrl hope you like ;) 💕

MOOD MUSIC: Star by Yumi

***

If you’ve ever loved someone, it’s easy to understand how much a person can change over time. You expect it, almost find yourself looking forward to the years where you can bare witness to the growth they undergo. Especially as lovers. Your heart belonged to Stephen, ever since you first laid eyes on him. He was the person you’d spend your life with, and you were forever grateful he felt the same. But, life had a strange way of testing you, and as you held his hand to your cheek, trying hard not to cry and ruin whatever mood was left in the room, you couldn’t help but curse the gods for it. War would take him soon, and whoever he came back as…it wouldn’t be the same. You weren’t naive enough to believe that. You didn’t want him to go, the very thought of never seeing him again was painful enough. But, the farewell was the worst of it. There were no words that could completely grasp how you felt, and what exactly was one meant to say when the prospect of death hung in the future?

“Stephen-“

“Don’t.” The soldier sighed, kneeling in front of you with only half his uniform on. He was set to go in the early hours of the morning, but he might as well kiss you goodbye now. “Just…don’t.” He couldn’t bear to hear you cry, knowing he would leave and you’d be here alone with no one to hold you. “Tomorrow is another day, but right now…” Stephen leaned forward, pressing your foreheads together as he closed his eyes in anguish. “Let us share this.”

You nodded reluctantly, not wanting to part from him at all if you could help it. Unfortunately, the stars were not on your side. “Okay…” You whispered to him, cupping his cheeks and kissing his brow lovingly. “Okay.”

Stephen allowed himself a smile, his expressive eyes looking into your own. He had to take it all in, every feature of your face until it was burned deep into his memory. The future held no promises for him, that much he had become aware of in life, but he would never let himself forget you. If this war ended in his death, he’d face it with you in his heart. “Come here.” He forced a chuckle, pulling you towards him and pressing his lips softly to yours. That kiss could last a lifetime and you’d be thrilled for it, but the second he pulled away it was like reality came falling down again.

You pushed your lips together, savoring the after taste of him on them while you pulled him on the bed. The world may be against you, but he was right about tonight being just for you two. “Make love to me then. Can’t have you leaving without something to remember me by.”

Stephen laughed at your seduction, his intentions to show you how much he adored you now obvious. “No, we can’t have that.” He stood back up a bit, hands working their way along your thighs and curving over the smooth material of your stockings. He hooked his fingers under the hem, kissing over your knee before he slowly pulled one down. Just the feel of your skin on his lips, the tremble of your thighs, it made him want to cherish this all the more.

You let out a flustered breath, lower back lifting from the bed just from the ticklish sensations of his hands and mouth. As he removed your stockings you had to stop to devote some time to feel it all, to understand just how important every brush of his fingertips were in this moment. “Oh, Stephen…”

The soldier mumbled out a love confession, teeth nipping gently at your inner thigh as he tugged the last stocking off your leg. “Shh…” He hushed between kisses, dragging his mouth along your skin with your dress. He bunched it all up around your hips, keeping it away while he licked a smooth path over the center of your panties. It caused you to whine out, legs coming up in your fit of pleasure. You rested your feet on his shoulders, face falling into the bedsheets from the attention he bestowed on you.

You had only hours to enjoy each other’s company, but you were too impatient to run through the passions of foreplay. You needed him, so desperately it almost ached to think of. “My love, please, just-“

Stephen understood your predicament, better than anyone. He loved taking his time with you, to fall victim to the endless bliss your body and his could provide one another. But, right now he only wished to be together in the most intimate of ways. To feel your body surround him and drug him with your appeal. It was all he could think of now, and with one last kiss to your heat, he pushed himself up and over you. His eyes instantly fell to yours, trying to convey what no words possibly could.

You understood him very well though, and you smiled apologetically at his pain. This wasn’t going to be an easy bump to cross, but you’d without a doubt make that journey with him. “Just kiss me.” You breathed, cupping his cheek and caressing your thumb along the freckles. He looked so handsome above you, his dog tags tickling over your sternum as they hung from his neck. You reached down to them, tracing the indents in the metal and feeling that harsh reality again. As much as you wanted his company tonight, it also pained you to look at him. Knowing he’d be gone soon.

“Please, just kiss me.”

Stephen smiled warmly at you, dipping down slowly and barely pressing his lips to yours. The heat of them brought a familiar comfort, warming your soul and awakening that desire within you. It was like a habit now, every greeting, every goodbye…it didn’t matter. His lips were home to you, and not having that would be the end of you. “I don’t want you to go.” You mournfully whispered into his lips, trying to suppress the very obvious sob.

“I know, darling…I know.” Stephen sighed, hovering above you with the most dreadful expression. He wanted to stay, but that wasn’t a possibility for him. He could only hope the cards were in his favor in the years to come. Should the war last that long. “Don’t think of it. Just look at me.” He cupped your chin, lifting you to gaze at him. He wore a smile now, albeit a half hearted one, but a smile nonetheless. “I love you. I always have.” Stephen expressed to you, kissing you softly when that pretty laugh came forth. God, he’d live for that sweet sound alone.

“I love you, too.” You tugged his dog tags down, closing the short distance between your mouths again. It felt good to have him near, in spite of the inner turmoil, you just fought your heartache and welcomed his affections.

He groaned into your lips, hands pinning you gently to the bed as he began to surrender to the feverish atmosphere. He’d cherish the closeness as long as he could, because nothing in his life had ever felt as sure as his love for you.

“Stephen…” you gasped, spreading your legs and allowing him more room. His hips sunk down, body now in tune with yours as you writhed into each other. It wasn’t long before you felt his arousal, the firm sensation causing ripples of delight to swarm your center. You had to release a labored breath, heart now pumping rapidly from the erotic movements of his hips. “That feels,” you swallowed your moans, tilting your head back as he rocked against you. “Amazing…”

Stephen chuckled, his breath wafting over your cheek, face contorting in pleasure from the friction. He had to stop that soon, knowing if he persisted he wouldn’t last as long as he’d like. He pushed himself up, loosening his tie and rushing to unbutton his shirt. The second his abdomen was bare of clothing you reached for him, splaying your hands over the lean muscles and enjoying the way they twitched under your touch. Even if that uniform meant painful moments ahead, you had to admire how perfect he looked in it. “You look very handsome.”

“And you look very beautiful.” Stephen gazed down at you, pulling his shirt off completely, and reaching for your dress. Neither of you wasted time on every article of clothing, but he made quick work of your panties, dragging them over your smooth thighs and down to your ankles. With a gentle touch, he slipped them off, tossing them to the side and laying a kiss over your leg. You had to smile at that gesture, knowing those were the small things you’d miss from him. The darling little affections he gave you, never needing to say he loved you because those actions meant so much more.

“Enough talk, lieutenant Wraysford…” You joked, pushing at his chest with your foot. He laughed at that, massaging your foot lovingly before leaning back down.

“Yes madame.” He kissed you sweetly, occupying your needs while he worked at his belt. In the back of your mind you could hear the buckle coming undone, instinctively growing excited at the sound. Your body was already aroused for him, if the heat between your legs was anything to go by.

Stephen released your lips for a moment, looking down as he settled himself at your entrance. The feel of his tip sweeping over your folds made you whimper, hips pushing down in your impatience. You had to have him, to feel him within you and have that fulfillment of his connection. Both physically and mentally. Nothing ever felt as perfect as being one with him, the intimacy of the action enough to steal your breath. “Ah!” You gripped his forearms, nails digging softly into his skin as he slowly entered you. Your walls stretched to accommodate him, knees buckling weakly when you wrapped your legs around his waist. “M-Move…” You urged him on, biting your lip in contentment of the pleasure.

Stephen couldn’t deny you the satisfaction, nor himself, so with a delighted sigh he thrust all the way in. The heat of your sex was consuming, his pleasure addled mind now diving further into the abyss. He couldn’t handle the slow pace he set, his body wanting to take you hard and fast because it simply felt good to have you. But, watching you moan and blissfully sigh beneath him like that, how could he quicken this session and miss such a heavenly sight. “Darling.” He growled between gritted teeth, lips faintly stroking over yours.

You could feel his trousers grazing your thighs, the friction creating a sensation that mingled perfectly with his thrusts. It was as if your body was aflame, just taking in every single touch and emotion he offered you. You had to clutch his shoulders, pulling him roughly down and crashing your mouths together. The passion you felt for him, the heartache, it was all overwhelming for you. And the only outlet for that pain was giving into the ecstasy and taking him with you.

“Harder…please…”

He pulled away from you, staring into your glazed eyes and smirking. He could find no words to describe the admiration he held for you then. But, he was happy you wanted to feel all of this as much as he did. With a kiss to your brow, he quickened his pace, the sound of skin hitting skin now very evident in the room. You thrived on it, fingers curling into the pillows above as your body slid up and down the bed.

“Unh..!” Stephen shook his head, trying to combat the need to release as he thrust harder into your warmth. He felt your inner walls clenching around him, as if you needed more of him in this moment. He was more than willing to oblige with that silent request, and he leaned back up, taking your thighs in his hand and lifting your hips onto his lap. His body snapped forward, filling you completely with his length. You looked gorgeous then, crying out and arching up like nothing would ever feel this gratifying again. But, your soft pleas for more just crippled him into a mess of satisfaction. Bringing that high upon him that he couldn’t fight anymore. “Fuck!” He cursed loudly, holding your hips harshly as he thrust into you a few more times. Making sure you took every last of his orgasm inside you.

You hummed in approval of the feeling, angling your hips down and rocking into him as he rode out his pleasure. Your body had given in as well, your sex convulsing around his length as you two fell upon each other, spent.

The anguish that filled the room had given way to the intimacy of your coupling, both of you content to spend the rest of the night in each other’s arms. The morning was hours away still, and for now you would let it stay there in the future. The present was for you.

***

A/N: ❤️

#stephen wraysford x reader #birdsong #stephen wraysford #stephen wraysford x you #eddie redmayne

37 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

The Yearbook (Part 3)-High School series

A/N: Part 3! Here we go. The more I write this the more I realize multiple endings is going to be the challenge of my writing hobby…I’m dreading it lol But, I’ll try my best. If it doesn’t come to fruition please understand developing love between one person with 6 or 7 admirers is hell lol Fuck me. Every chapter proves a challenge.

MOOD MUSIC: Everybody talks by Neon Trees

***

Thank the heavens for the bell, in this moment it was the most beautiful sound to grace your ears. If Marius had stared any second longer you would’ve melted under that enchanting gaze. How can people so easily work such charms? It was almost unfair that they existed. You never considered yourself perfect, far from it, but even the endearing traits you held weren’t on par with his. It was like the men at this school were graced by the gods when it came to looks, because you felt your attraction spinning out of control with all the new and familiar faces.

“Are you-“

“I,” The word was drawn out, your nerves kicking in once again when Marius leaned over to you. You weren’t sure what question he was going to ask, but you weren’t going to stick around for it. You were far too flustered at this point, and nothing coherent was building in your mind. “Have to…” You gazed towards the doors to the hallway, eyes widening when you saw Newt passing them by. He was no doubt waiting on you now, hoping to enjoy the small five minutes before the next classes started. You could jump him with joy right now, because he was certainly the perfect excuse to leave Marius hanging. If only to ease your embarrassment about this awkward situation. “My friend!”

“What?” The French student raised an eyebrow, confused by your sudden outburst. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to comprehend your sentence, because you rose from your stool and grabbed your bag on the way out. “Wait, I-“

But, you ignored his words, not wanting to increase the anxiety bubbling up from the encounter. Life at eighteen shouldn’t be this difficult, yet here you were freaking out over another student who just so happened to be handsome. Let’s add that to the number of other guys here you were crushing on. “Newt!”

The student looked up from his notebook, smiling when he found you rushing out of the theatre. He wasn’t expecting you to enjoy the class, but your uncomfortable expression was still a shock. “Are you alright? You look…confused.”

“Y-Yeah…sure. Great.” You blurted out, blushing when you felt Marius still staring after you from the windows on the classroom doors. Did he even realize how much of an effect he had on you? Because, if so…he could stop. “Um, how was class?”

Newt was further confused by your odd behavior. He was used to the number of times you grew flustered, particularly around a certain athlete, but he knew Stephen wasn’t in that class. For all his talents, acting wasn’t one of them. A slight perk in his favor, because even he could pass theatre without a problem. Granted, most of what he said seemed odd to people and therefore they believed he was simply joking with them. “It was…fine.” Newt leaned over, trying to gaze into the classroom as if that would provide the answer for him. Unfortunately, you grabbed his arm and began pulling him away. No doubt embarrassed by whatever caused your shaky demeanor. “I really must-“

“So, science, huh? Bet that was fun.”

“Yes, it was. You’re acting very strange, Y/N.” He whisked his arm away from you, stopping at the small table in the corner of the hallway. He didn’t like secrets, even if prying wasn’t his hobby, he preferred you be clear with him. But, if he was being honest, the blush along your features was the cause for his curiosity. Call it a teenage boy’s jealousy, but he knew what that look meant. “Is Stephen…?”

You dropped down onto the bench, throwing your head back and covering your face with your bag. “What? No! Why would you-“ But, it occurred to you how observant Newt could be. For as long as you could remember your crush on Stephen was a simple secret you kept, but eventually someone would find out. You practically gaped at the athlete every time you came to school. At least Newt wouldn’t tell anyone, and you always suspected he already knew without giving all the details. Still, his pointed look made you sink into your seat. “He’s not in my class. Geez.” You weren’t sure why you couldn’t break the news of the French student to Newt, but for some reason you felt he’d be less enthused by the notion. Maybe it was because he already seemed annoyed at your crush on Stephen, but you didn’t want him to feel anymore uncomfortable than necessary.

“Oh…”

“Why?”

“Sorry, what?”

“Never mind.” You opted to ignore his disappointed look, thinking he was just daydreaming about animals or something. Or the current state of conservation in the world, like he so regularly did. “So, lunch on campus today? Or…”

“Campus is fine.” Newt watched as the other students walked by, some of them bumping into him like he didn’t exist. Not that it ever bothered him, he was well aware of the nature of his position here. People, particularly teenagers, loathe those who would step out of the norm. It’s like they couldn’t comprehend human beings were all different, which he found interesting and regularly took note of. “Cafeteria is serving somewhat decent food today.”

“Lucky us.” Time didn’t allow for much socializing between classes, and you knew Newt had other places to be besides huddled into a corner listening to you drone on about nothing. “I’ll see you in a bit then.” You rose from the chair, standing awkwardly for a second while Newt stayed quiet. He seemed preoccupied with his thoughts, and not wanting to disturb them you simply left with a small smile. Sometimes your friend had moments of acting odd, you always assumed it was his way. But, as the years of being together flew by the more it caused some concern to you. Your mother liked to joke it was a crush, but the very idea of Newt ever liking you in that matter made you burn with embarrassment. “A crush. Pfft.” You sighed heavily, turning the hallway and heading down into the gymnasium.

By the time you made it in, all the other girls were already dressed into gym clothes. Athletic skills was not something you were blessed with, but you enjoyed this period if only for the peace and quiet it brought. Your gym teacher, Mrs. Knight, was not exactly hellbent on working you all to the bone. Her idea of exercise was handing you guys a dodgeball and blowing her whistle until one of you got smacked in the face with it. Most students liked her for her laid back attitude, you being one of them, but not everyone was made to enjoy this period.

“Take your inhaler, Mr. Doolittle. Last thing I need is another kid passing out on me.” Mrs. Knight mumbled on about not getting paid enough, but she threw the student’s inhaler towards him only to shake her head when he struggled to catch it. He was a lanky individual, very pale and honestly quite sickly looking. If not for the bright green in his eyes, you would’ve thought the poor guy dead. He shook the inhaler over and over again, but it was obvious there was very little left of the medication.

“Y/N.” You jumped at the sound of your name, heart easing up when you found your teacher standing next to you. She had one eyebrow raised, dodgeball bouncing up and down in her hand as she looked you over. “Bring your clothes this time?”

“Oh, yes, Mrs. Knight. Sorry.” You gave her a cheeky smile, lifting your backpack as if to prove you had everything. Luckily you did somewhere in your locker, where your clothes sat over the course of the summer. Without a further word, you ran off into the locker rooms to change, leaving her with an amused look that faded when she looked towards the other students.

***

“Damn it.” You cursed under your breath, once again turning the lock to the right combination. At least what you assumed was the correct combination, over the summer you hadn’t bothered keeping such information on hand. Newt may have been the type to take school home with him, you never did. Once that last bell rang, you were quick to shut your mind off to anything academic related. “36…left…no…wait…” you paused between turns, knowing you had likely messed it up again. Whatever happened to using simple master locks? That would’ve been a great deal better for you. Although losing the key was also a likely outcome.

“Y/N?”

That voice, you knew it so well. Every time he spoke it was like your heart ascended to heaven and all was right with the world. That is if you were comfortable using dramatic imagery for your crush on him. And seeing as how your cheeks instantly flushed and your words stuck in your throat, you were. “S-Stephen?” You turned your head to him, still leaning over the lock and fumbling with the dial. “What are you doing in the girls locker room?” You didn’t fancy him a pervert, but he seemed awfully comfortable in here.

“Well, this is the boys locker room.” Stephen’s expression was beyond amused, and having him stand there completely shirtless with nothing but joggers on was too much for your love struck heart to take. His normally kept hair was a mess on his head, freckled skin slightly red from being out in the sun. And you wouldn’t even dare to let your eyes wander down his lean chest where sweat dripped like some ichor of the gods. It was too pleasant, and honestly who would blame you the brief glance?

“Uh…” You choked back an excuse, thoughts now conflicted on what was worse: being inside the boys locker room, or gawking at the track star like he was some prized piece of meat. “Is it?” Certainly by now he was well aware of your hungry gaze, and perhaps the chuckle he released was proof enough. But, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. He was so handsome, and so kind and all the good qualities a human being could have. You imagined all sorts of daring fantasies then, all of them ending up far too R rated for a high school student to have. You tried to appeal to the mature woman in you, but that just made you enable your daydreams further.

“I can’t imagine you’ll get much out of that locker. That’s Eddie’s…in fact, maybe you should step away from that.” The athlete was concerned, nothing belonging to the rebel cowboy could be good for the general public. He walked towards you, still smiling at the dazed off look you had. He knew he had a certain effect on girls, not that he abused such a blessing, but seeing you leaned over the locker and blushing was an adorable sight. “Do you want me to escort you back to the girls locker room?”

By this point you were gone. Off somewhere in a fantasy land where Stephen had you against a wall, and hardly allowed a word to escape you. After all, having your lips occupied with his and that talented tongue was prone to cause silence aside from happy moans. “Sure.” You simply responded, backing into the lockers when he passed you by. If only he could trap you there, and ravish you in ways your inexperienced mind didn’t think was possible. You had to entertain the idea he was great at that sort of thing, eighteen or not, it was possible both of you were still virgins. But, certainly he felt needs like you did.

“Do you want to go now?” He laughed, pointing towards the door that led back outside.

“What? Oh! Yeah…yeah…” You coughed pathetically, shaking away the erotic thoughts and trying to regain what little dignity you had. But, with him staring down at you in amusement, it was hard to ignore the heat building up on your face. Not to mention the one smoldering away in your lower abdomen. “I can show myself out. Bye!” A quick and embarrassing escape. But, you couldn’t handle the shame anymore. If he wasn’t aware of your crush before, he certainly was now. As you ran outside of the locker room you didn’t dare glance back at him. You were just busying yourself with ideas on how to redeem your unfortunate awkwardness.

Stephen wasn’t so torn up by the situation though, and tried his best to call after you before he heard the door slam. He watched it swing a couple of times, still thinking about that shy stare of yours. Whether you willed it or not, he couldn’t help but smile at the surprise meeting.

***

“What is wrong with me?” You rambled about, pacing the hallway just outside the gym. You could already hear the laughter and screams coming from inside, the game of dodgeball in full swing. Through the door windows you could make out some students simply sitting on the bleachers, none of them interested in participating in the old sport. Part of you didn’t blame them. Dodgeball became a pretty easy outlet for some teenage angst, and that always meant a visit to the school nurse.

“I don’t have all day, Y/N.” Mrs. Knight pushed open the door, beckoning you inside and towards the game. She didn’t truly care what you did, so long as it took place inside the gym away from the principal. “Come on. And next time bring your clothes!”

You didn’t exactly have the nerve to explain how another student distracted you from changing. And even if you had the proper words you weren’t sure you could openly admit it. “Coming.” You reluctantly agreed, thinking it was best for you to be away from Stephen. Chances are he’d be trotting down the hallway to the track in all his athletic glory. As fun as that was to witness, you didn’t need more embarrassment for the day. You had your unpleasant fill.

“Alright, come on, girls! You can do better than that.” Mrs. Knight took a seat on the side, opening up her magazine and randomly blowing her whistle whenever she heard someone whining.

You rolled your eyes at the others, watching them throw the ball back and forth until the horrid sound of it hitting someone echoed in the room. The fact that it was mainly girls made it even worse. They truly had it out for one another, no doubt falling victim to the rivalries of who was the better looking man in school. If you listened carefully, Balem’s and Stephen’s name got throw around quite a bit. There might’ve even been a few Marius’ in there.

“Alright, Qwerty. There you go. Breathe in slowly, now out slowly.”

You gazed over at the end of the bleachers, curiously watching as the nurse patted the sickly looking boy on the back. He was smiling awkwardly, coughing weakly before taking another puff of his inhaler. P.E. hadn’t even gone on more than twenty minutes before the poor guy was hunched over and struggling to breathe.

“Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you, Mrs. Karpinski.” He blushed faintly when she smiled at him, taking back his medication and stuffing it into her smock. She fussed over him for a second, clearly taking on some parental role considering how often he must have been in her office.

“Great. Now remember, take it easy. I don’t want you back in my office again.” She teased, although the concern she showed him was obvious.

“I promise.” He smiled, waving as she went back towards the doors and to her office. You had to whip your head back to the game, not wanting the guy to know you were just being nosy. It wasn’t like asthma was something new, but actually seeing someone suffer for it was a bit heart wrenching. Teenagers could be cruel, and judging by the giggles coming from across Qwerty it had already started.

“Geez.” You sighed, debating whether to keep him company or not. You never spoke to him before, only passed him in the halls on occasion last semester. Other than his name, there was very little you knew of him. Unfortunately, life wanted to keep it that way for now because the bell rang for next period. On the bright side, that meant lunch was next and you were ready to run out of here.

You practically knocked over everyone on your way out, manners pushed aside when you pranced out of the gym. As far as you were concerned, this was one of the best parts of the day. Granted, the end of the day bell was still in the lead.

“Newt!” You found the studious teen neck deep in a book, mindlessly apologizing to those he bumped shoulders with in the hall. He hardly cared for them, even when they shot him nasty looks. “Newt!”

Newt finally glanced up, smiling when you came running over and almost toppling him to the ground. “I am so glad to see you.” You hugged him tightly, happy to be free of classes and able to enjoy an hour away from it all. Not to mention feeling more secure around someone after that tragic mishap in the locker rooms.

Newt blinked in confusion, book dangling from one hand while the other rested on your upper back. “Likewise…?” He didn’t understand where this sudden affection came from, but he wasn’t about to shy away from it. “Shall we?” He asked, moving you both along the busy hallway while still being trapped in a hug.

“Yes, anything to be away from here.” You pried yourself free of him, grabbing his sleeve and dragging him down into the cafeteria. There was already many tables taken, and by the time you two managed to grab lunch twenty minutes had been wasted. “So tell me again, what exactly is your project?”

“It’s not really a project. More of a petition.” Newt cut the apple on his tray into chunks, sneakily placing some of them up his sleeve and into the tiny mouth of his sugar glider, Jacob. “It’s to stop congress from allowing the oil industry to further harm marine life.”

“Smart. What do you have to do then?”

Newt continued on about the dirty details, but all of his words slowly slipped out the window of your mind. And just when you thought you escaped the embarrassing moment of the day, Stephen so happened to walk into the lunchroom. Needless to say, all the girls turned their heads to him. Each one heavily swooning over the star athlete and likely performing the same daydream you had earlier. If you looked anything like they did, you felt that shame dig deeper. Unbeknownst to you, however, another student hadn’t missed the longing glance you were sending Stephen’s way.

“Why the fuck did you wanna stay on campus today, sounds like a goddamn waste to me.” Eddie flicked some fries from his plate, laughing when he hit another kid on the head. No one dared to say anything to him, otherwise they faced more than the wrath of the cowboy. “Now I got all these damn teachers watching me like I’m about to light a damn-“

“Silence, for once, Eddie.” Balem rubbed at his temples, watching you carefully with the utmost interest. He hadn’t seen you for a good portion of the summer, save for that run in whilst grocery shopping with your parents. He never really paid attention to you after losing touch over the years, but there was something different about you now. A detail he only took notice of when he saw you this morning. Like the summer managed to take the awkward girl he knew and turn her into a beautiful woman. Not that any of your weird qualities had matured over the months, because you still seemed drenched in awkwardness from head to toe. Hanging around that Newt Scamander guy likely didn’t help your reputation.

“You got the hots for her or somethin’?” Eddie laid his chin on his arms, bored out of his mind while he watched his friend lustily gaze at you. Part of him understood the appeal, the sweet and innocent firecracker that you were. It was hard not to be enticed by you, but he was never one to busy his mind with relationships. He figured he had years to find a solid girlfriend, and being eighteen meant he had better things on his mind. Mainly like finding time to smoke, or tormenting other kids in the school.

“I told you to shut up.” Balem glared at Eddie, not keen on delivering all his secrets to him. Friend or not. Besides, just because he found you suddenly attractive meant very little to him. There was plenty women to choose from at this school. But, if he was being honest, there was something frustrating about watching you pine over the athlete. “What the hell does she see in him?”

“What was that?” Eddie played with a toothpick, trying to control the shake in his fingers from not pumping himself with nicotine.

“Nothing.” Balem rose from his table, ignoring the whines of the girl that was sitting next to him. He hadn’t even realized she was still there, but he had better things to entertain himself with now.

“So will you sign it?”

“Sure, Newt.” You smiled at him, still slipping your gaze to Stephen as he gathered his lunch. You wondered if he’d sit with you both, because he often did last semester. However, you weren’t sure that was something you wanted right now.

“Hey.”

Your view of Stephen was suddenly blocked by leather and smug expressions, and you had to stifle the annoyed groan begging to come out. Balem was the last person you wanted to see, but he seemed content with ruining your day anyway.

“What do you want?”

“You going to kick me out?” He mused, slowly biting down on his own apple.

“Even if I said yes, you still wouldn’t leave.” And that was the truth, he could do whatever he wanted and it wouldn’t change a thing.

“Fair enough.” Balem smirked, rolling his eyes when Eddie came sauntering over and taking a seat as well. It wasn’t easy flirting when you had someone snickering next to you the whole time. At least you and him were agreed that Eddie could shove off.

“And you, too. Lucky me.” You sipped on your water, squinting your eyes suspiciously at them both over the rim of the bottle. They never wasted their precious time on the likes of you, especially Newt. So it wouldn’t be too far fetched to believe something was up. “So what do you want?”

Newt was busy chewing on his apple, eyes darting from Eddie, to Balem and then to you. He wasn’t worried by any means, merely intrigued by this sudden turn of events. It wasn’t everyday the two most popular kids congregated by the nerdy watering hole.

“Humor him.” Eddie chuckled, nudging Balem with his shoulder. He wasn’t sure what was really going on, but seeing his friend tongue tied and riled up was worth it.

“Eddie-“

“Yeah, I know…shut up.” The cowboy clicked his tongue when he saw the last teacher leave the room, and he quickly fished into his pocket for his cigarettes. By the time Balem even managed to get a word out the table was covered in smoke.

“What are you doing after school?” Balem questioned, studying you carefully. He could easily tell if you were lying, but that concern went out the door when he saw your eyes widen. How you managed to be pretty even in a state of shock was beyond him.

“Me?”

“Well, who else?” He was growing annoyed by the back and forth. Usually his romantic interests were already putty in his hands by now, seemed like courting you would be far more difficult.

“I-uh…” You looked to Newt for enlightenment, but he seemed just as shocked as you did by the question. “Well…”

“Ain’t y’all cute.” Eddie took one last drag of his smoke, tapping the lip of it on the corner of his tray before throwing it casually into Newt’s open milk carton. The sound of ashes fizzling out made you look over, that familiar anger rising at the two of them for their selfish actions.

“Really?!” You glared over at Eddie, ready to knock that smile off his face until Balem seemed inclined on doing it for you.

“You lack grace.” Balem scolded, ignoring the audible chuckles of his friend. He had one task to fulfill, and Eddie had to go and ruin it for him. “Idiot.” Balem leaned his cheek on his palm, calling over to Newt with disinterest. “Take mine.”

Newt was tilting his carton over, trying to get the cigarette out when Balem called to him. He was pretty positive he had never heard his name come from the popular student before. To say it was surprising was an understatement, but he eagerly looked up anyway. “Oh, I couldn’t-“

“Just take it!” Balem was close to losing it in here, but he wasn’t willing to part on bad terms again. He shoved his tray closer, waiting for Newt to grab the milk. Thankfully, the other student agreed, and slowly reached over the table to pry the drink from him.

Only, as luck would have it, Jacob decided to plop out of Newt’s sleeve and onto Balem’s food. The silence that developed between you all was palpable, and it took all your willpower not to mention once more to Newt why his pet should be kept at home.

“What the fuck is that?” Eddie eyed the sugar glider in disgust, raising his eyebrow and glancing from the tiny creature to Newt. Jacob was munching away on the potatoes, even sniffing up at Balem curiously while you all watched him devour his food.

Balem glanced down at you, trying hard not to seem entirely disgusted by your friend. Newt, however, often made it difficult for him to pretend to be nice. But, he couldn’t handle that angry stare of yours. For some reason it instilled a sense of guilt within him, something he wasn’t accustomed to. “Tsk.” Balem grabbed his drink off his tray, tossing it roughly onto Newt’s and rolling his eyes before leaving you two in peace.

His charitable action caught you off guard, but you snuck a smile his way when he wasn’t looking. For all his cold and aloof nature, there was a human in there after all.

*** A/N: By the way that petition is real, and y’all should sign it.

62 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

The Yearbook (Part 2)-High School series

A/N: It’s here! Part 2, turtle doves. I love writing this stupid fic, all because I had a whack ass dream about Balem being a dick to Newt in school…oy. Anyway, I know Marius has an English accent lol but for drama sake, he’s got a French one in this. Use your imagination. Also, if you requested to be a teacher in this, I will slowly (try) to introduce you. That being said, I’m not basing any of their actions off y’alls personality. That’s too much work, and I’m lazy…cut me a break. So, it’s name only haha. Enjoy!

MOOD MUSIC: Feel it still by Portugal. The Man

***

You threw your backpack onto the table, pulling out a chair and taking a seat as you looked around the almost empty library. No other students plagued the aisles of books, or extended their stay on the empty computer desks. It was how you enjoyed the library, quiet and devoid of all other life. Save for your best friend, who was busy burying his nose into another wildlife book to pay much attention to your topic of conversation.

“Newt!”

The freckled boy glanced up, blinking at you stupidly before smiling. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Never mind…” You sighed into your jacket sleeve, restlessly leaning back and forth in your chair as you watched the clock tick by. School wasn’t entirely awful, but in the realm of activities, you’d much rather be sleeping at this ungodly hour. “I am not looking forward to drama class. Why is that even important? I have no use for acting classes…”

“Perhaps you should’ve taken biology.” Newt mumbled nonchalantly, flipping the page and highlighting parts he found particularly interesting.

“I am, but…wait,” You fell forward into the table, hands slamming into the surface and scaring the other student from his reverie of animals. “Did you not sign up for drama class? First period? With Ms. Derboven…?”

Newt stared pathetically at you, a sudden dark cloud emerging over his messy head of hair. You knew that look all too well, you had been victim to it many times in your friendship. That guilty smile, that nervous laugh…it was just another blow to your already annoyed mood.

“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander,” you threatened between gritted teeth, leaning closer to your friend. Your proximity caused a flush of red to sweep along his cheeks, and he lifted his book to cover the obvious sign of nervousness. “So help me god if you didn’t-“

“I swear it was not intentional…” he attempted to soothe your anger, still keeping that sheepish grin on his features. He assumed it would make it all go away, as it usually did. But, you only glared deeply at him, getting closer until your noses were touching and he had no choice but to sit silent and listen. Not that it was difficult for him, your perfume and entrancing eyes were enough to gain his focus.

“Newt, I don’t want to take that class alone! They say the teacher is eccentric and expects you to perform for her the very first day! I don’t know how to act! I’m not even sure I know how to create art…I’m gonna die…that’s it…my social life is now null and void and I will forever be known as the girl who fucked up her monologue.”

“That’s a tad dramatic, don’t you think?” Newt cleared his throat, taking his chance to move away from you while you wallowed in your self pity.

“What’s dramatic is leaving your best friend to endure a full hour and a half of drama class.” Perhaps you were being a bit of a whiner, but facing courses without anyone you knew was always a rough situation. One you didn’t want to deal with senior year.

“I don’t believe dramatic fits that sentence-“

“There you are, Newt!”

The two of you looked up, your eyes falling upon a young man running over to you both. He was dressed like a complete hipster, one you’d find on some Instagram post about charcoal ice cream or what not. His fedora tilted sloppily to the side, giving him a very relaxed look that was only overshadowed by his striking red hair. He certainly knew how to gain attention.

“Oh, hello…” Newt dropped his book to the table, watching as this boy took a seat next to him and began going on about money and drawings. None of it made sense to you, and you sat there completely befuddled by his sudden appearance.

“So, I kind of need the money now…any chance you can pay?” The red head held his hand out, a huge smile on his face when Newt fished through his pockets and handed him some crumpled up bills.

“That should be sufficient.”

“Thank you, I need new supplies…”

“Um,” You interjected, nudging Newt on the arm to introduce you to this new kid. He looked faintly familiar, but it was hard to forget someone with his looks and hair. So you imagined he didn’t make a huge impression the first time, if you ever met him before that is. “Newt?”

Newt, glad for the distraction from your anger, held his hand out towards the red head and quickly blurted out an introduction. As if he didn’t really see the point in doing so. “That’s Jack. He offered to do some drawings for my book I’m writing.”

It dawned on you then, the red hair, the somewhat messy tie. You had seen him before, he was a frequent flyer in the principal’s office, although his offenses were of a lesser degree than the resident bad boy, Eddie. “You’re the one who makes those really amazing murals, right? On the gymnasium, and men’s bathroom!”

Jack hadn’t been paying much attention to you or Newt, he was busy counting the money and figuring out what to purchase with it. But, the moment your melodic voice hit his ears, he nearly froze in his actions. With a surprised expression he glanced up, green eyes widening when he saw you. He could count on one hand the number of girls he found attractive at this school, because the fact was, you were the only one he found charming. Every other girl was so caught up in their looks or social lives it grated on his nerves. There was something refreshing about you though, a trait he wasn’t yet knowledgeable about but, he felt it.

You pursed your lips, eyeing him strangely while he just stared. The silence built to a level that even gained Newt’s attention, and with a curious glance he turned to his friend.

“Jack-“

Before he could get another word out, Jack leaned forward, a glint of wonder in his eyes as he looked you over. “Can I draw you?”

It was an odd request, one you didn’t expect to receive today. To say you were flattered though, would be an understatement. A soft blush formed on your features, a smile curling along your lips as you giggled nervously. “I, uh-“

Newt watched the exchange, somewhat annoyed, but otherwise keeping his mouth shut. He didn’t care for the way Jack looked at you, it was reminiscent to the way you eyed Stephen earlier. A hint of arousal, and longing that only made the animal lover jealous. Try as he might, Newt wasn’t very adept at burying his feelings. “Stop asking everyone to let you draw them.”

“How else am I supposed to practice?”

“Perhaps you should do your art assignments.”

“What a waste of time. Art isn’t something you can schedule or direct…” The entire time he spoke, his eyes fixated on you and only you. It was as if he was already sketching you into his mind, taking every lovely detail and canvassing it into his memories. “It has to be free, spontaneous…”

There was something in the way he spoke that made your heart flutter, like the very passion he conveyed could be felt in his words. It was mesmerizing, and you nearly toppled into his spell if not for Newt interrupting him.

“Jack,” It was when he reached out to touch you that Newt had enough, and with a sigh he held his book up, blocking the artist’s wandering hand. “Sorry, but shouldn’t you finish your painting in the gym?”

The switch went off in Jack’s head, and he rose quickly from his chair, giving a quick farewell before taking off in a rush towards the doors. You smiled at him, a thoughtful look on your face when you considered your observation carefully.

“You know,” you paused, eyes following the retreating back of the talented student. “If it wasn’t for the red hair, I’d say he could be your twin, Newt.”

Newt glanced up from his book, blinking at you skeptically before looking towards Jack. He raised his eyebrow for a second, before pursing his lips and scoffing at the notion. “Absolutely not.”

Before you could think of a single snappy remark, the bell rang, indicating the next five minutes should be spent getting to class. An audible groan flew from your lips, the dread of drama class becoming far too real now. You wanted to drag Newt along with you, but taking him from his beloved science classes was too cruel to entertain.

“Would you like me to accompany you there?”

“No, don’t worry. I’ll survive.”

Newt felt awful about the change in classes, but his counselor was adamant he take courses geared towards his interests. It would help in college, and he had to admit it was a smarter plan than wasting his time watching the drama kids reenact their favorite Shakespeare play.

“If you say so, Y/N…”

You hummed back to him, throwing your bag over your shoulder and sending a wave of goodbye as you walked out the library and into your horrible hour and a half fate. The walk to first period was uneventful, save for the nasty look some girl gave you. You weren’t aware of her dispute with you, but the faint whisper of ‘Balem’ was heard as you passed by. If you were to venture a guess, she was not overly fond of the way you interacted with him this morning. Every girl here was swooning over the rich man, constantly leaving letters in his locker or on his windshield. It was a dim-witted attempt to get his attention, but he rarely ever read the love notes. On one occasion you even saw him use his wipers to release the perfume scented letters from his precious car. Yet, in spite of his cruelty, they still flocked to him like moths to a flame.

“Ow!” The rough material of someone’s jacket pushed into your forehead, making you flinch back and grumble about small hallways. Why Balem’s mother couldn’t pull her purse strings for a bigger building was beyond you. “Watch it!”

“Easy there, darlin’.” An amused chuckle was all you needed to realize who it was, and you reluctantly moved your hand away. View now obscured by the devilish grin of Eddie Kreezer. “Where you off to in a hurry?” He was already pulling a cigarette from his jacket pocket, lighter hidden in his cowboy hat as the staff walked by. You envied his devil may care attitude, but you didn’t need to be caught with him today.

“To class, you idiot. Where you should be going.”

“Tsk, didn’t your momma ever teach you to be nice?” He teased, lighting his smoke and blowing some of it into your face.

“You’re one to talk!”

Eddie was always amused at your temper, but that was due to him being one of the few people who could bring out that spark of anger. It was amusing and quite frankly, hot to him. “Damn, sweetheart. What? Daddy didn’t love you enough as a kid? Is that where all this misdirected rage comes from?” He laughed heartily, pushing one finger into your forehead to keep you away as you launched your fists at him. It was a weak attempt to defend yourself, and it only made the cowboy laugh harder until you gave up. “I’ll be your daddy if you want.” He had the gall to wink, to flirt amidst all this teasing like you were just going to cave under his southern wiles. It fueled that fire of fury inside you, and admittedly was just a bit charming…which only made you angrier.

“You-“

“Ah, ah, ah!” Eddie easily trapped you into the lockers, smirking down at your expression of discontent. “Daddy don’t like the attitude, darlin’.”

The last straw, that was it, and with all your strength you kneed Eddie in the stomach, taking his momentary lapse of judgement as a sign to run away. The last bell had rung, and with the halls now clearing you took the chance to turn back to him, hands balled into fists as you yelled, “And for the record you’re too young to be a daddy!”

The cowboy glanced up, a huge smirk now forming on his lips as he laughed. You figured he’d finally lost it, the recreational use of drugs eventually killing off his last brain cells. That was until you heard your name, a huge blush going head to toe when you realized who was behind you. With a stiff posture, you turned, growing redder when Stephen came into view. He looked confused, green eyes darting from you to Eddie with a hint of worry.

“Are you alright?”

“I-“ you couldn’t form a proper sentence, and in your embarrassment the only helpful thought that came was to run off into the halls. So with a quick mumble of farewell, you brushed passed the athlete and somehow found your way to the theatre. Life could be dramatically unfair sometimes, and having to say such a stupid thing in front of your crush was probably on the top ten list of don’ts. Lamenting over your actions did no good though, and with a troubled scoff you slowly opened the drama room doors. All eyes fell on you then, the piercing ones of your teacher among them. It sent chills up your spine, and even though they all saw you, you still attempted to sneak across the stools lined up to the stage.

“How good of you to join us.”

You fell into the stool, trying to ignore Ms. Derboven’s irritated glare. Thankfully, another student began to sing softly on stage, taking her attention elsewhere. She was positively thrilled when the student sang, like the world was suddenly brighter for it. In your mind, it was a simple distraction, but the pining sighs of women made you finally look towards the center of the auditorium. A tall, handsome student was on stage, crooning out his rendition of a Les Miserables song. Something about empty chairs and tables, not that you knew any of it, musicals weren’t exactly your hobby. But, you welcomed the talent he displayed. If only to have your teacher preoccupy herself with his enchanting voice.

“Isn’t he charming?”

You sank back into the air, trying not to fall from your stool as this girl leaned far too close to you. She had pretty green eyes, her blonde hair set into intricate curls that seemed to have taken hours to do. You didn’t recognize her from anywhere, and with a French accent you wondered if she had any relation to the new boy singing up there.

“Um-”

“Oh, no need to answer. I already know you agree.”

She giggled, hand on her cheek as she sighed happily while eyeing the handsome student on the stage. Drama wasn’t your forte, and if it wasn’t for the insane obligation to take an elective you’d be far from here. But, you humored her affections, eyes darting towards the stage and watching as the other French student recited his lines. He was rather talented at it, even more when he broke into song again. Even if that made it feel awkward to be in here. All the girls, and possibly even the teacher seemed entranced by his voice now, like he suddenly became the first male siren in history.

In your musings, you hadn’t realized he stopped, all the girls clapping and cheering their hearts out to him. Some of the boys reluctantly did so, more than one of them grumbling about how unfair it was to have so many good looking guys at this school. You had to agree there, lately it seemed like an abundance of them came crawling from out of the woodwork. With a defeated breath, you started clapping along as well, looking towards the clock on the wall and praying it would move faster. At least this new kid took up a good chunk of time for you.

“Come on…” you pleaded silently with the clock, as if that would somehow aid your impatience.

“Cosette, would you like a turn?”

You watched as the girl you were speaking to got up, clearly the one known as Cosette. She clapped happily, getting off the stool and heading to the stage to begin her own monologue. You envied her bravery, but the puppy love look on her face made you roll your eyes. She had it bad for that other guy, and judging by his smile he seemed somewhat interested in her in return.

“May I sit here?”

His French accent was enamoring, but you weren’t about to fall head over heels just because he seemed exotic.

“Sure.”

“Thank you.” He smiled politely, eyes constantly moving to look at you. “I’m Marius Pontmercy, and you are?”

At his greeting, you turned to him, offering a smile as you held your hand out to shake his. Only he seemed more intent on being a true gentleman. With a delicate touch he took your hand, twisting it around and laying a sweet kiss to the back of it. The French truly did inspire romance…

“I’m…um,” The words would not come out, and unfortunately making a fool of yourself seemed to be a reoccurring theme this school year.

“Won’t you tell me?” Marius smiled widely, chuckling when you looked away from him. You seemed on edge, and he had no intention to make it worse for you. “It’s alright if you wish-“

“Y/N.” You spat it out harshly, your nerves making you agitated enough to seem rude. Lucky for you, Marius took no offense to your curt tone.

“It’s a beautiful name…” He said quietly, eyes transfixed on you from the start.

There was a notable tension in the air, one that confused you greatly. But, the longer he gazed into your eyes the more you felt your chest cave to the attractive French student. In just a few short hours, you found life at eighteen proving difficult already. How on earth could you navigate this school year with all these men being distractions? Stephen was always your source of affection, and even though you still held strong feelings for him…you found yourself hooked on these new characters. Maybe Newt was right, sexual maturity had officially peaked and you hated every minute of it.

***

A/N: Alright, tell me!! Who do you ship Reader with so far?! Hope you liked it! There’s nothing greater than writing a trashy cliche high school fic. Takes me back, my loves…takes me back. Feedback appreciated! ❤️

59 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

The Yearbook (Part 1)-High school series

A/N: It’s here!! I also made myself the principal because, why wouldn’t I want to be? Lol Hope y'all enjoy this one, haven’t decided which one reader will end up with. 🤷🏻‍♀️

MOOD MUSIC: …Ready for it? By Taylor Swift

***

Bicycle wheels came to a screeching halt amidst the rush of new students, both freshman and seniors alike. The entire school yard was amass with fresh faces, and a chant of conversations about this past summer. None of it made any sense, and throughout the ride here neither Newt or you could come up with an even remotely good summer story to tell.

“No, no, that’s enough, Jacob.”

You turned to your best friend, watching as he fumbled around with his coat pockets and laughed weakly. He was fighting with something, clearly being on the losing side of the battle.

“Oh god, Newt! Really?! That’s exactly what got you in trouble last year.” With a roll of your eyes you climbed off your bike, kneeling down at the wheel to safely lock it to the rack. The entire way here you heard him mumbling nonsense to himself, little did you know he had once again snuck his playful little sugar glider into his pockets. It was no wonder he was known throughout the school, and not well received mind you. “You should’ve left him at home.”

“Sorry, er-Jacob!” Newt stopped mid sentence, jumping off his bike and jogging around as he clawed pathetically at his back. He shoved his suitcase to the ground, breathing a sigh of relief when he managed to pull Jacob from inside his blue coat. The tiny glider chattered it’s teeth up at Newt, making him laugh and forgive the creature for its meddling. “Alright, but this is exactly why I shouldn’t bring you anymore.”

It always amazed you at how deep a connection the student had with his pet, and while you enjoyed the company of your dog’s and cats, Newt was an entirely different breed when it came to animals. The boy might as well be Tarzan.

“Remind me why we’re friends again?”

Newt looked up from his hands with a huge grin, stuffing Jacob back into his coat pocket as he retrieved his case. “I help you with your homework.”

You chuckled at that, knowing that there was far more reasons to be Newt Scamander’s best friend. He was a very kind person, intelligent, perhaps a bit reserved but you cherished those traits about him. Made for fun times when the last bell rung and you both rode home to binge tv and eat junk food.

“Right.”

You patted your friend on the back, grabbing his coat as you began tugging him along. You both were impossibly early for your first day, and it appeared the rest of the school had the same idea. Over time that would change, by eight in the morning no one would grace these halls until the first bell rang. But, for now you both recycled your junior year activity of taking residence in the library until first period. It was always a pleasure to enjoy some silence before the hectic sound of hormonal teens filled your ears.

Or, for those aware of this school’s hierarchy, the rumbling sound of an engine that undoubtedly belonged to the richest teenager in the world. Both Newt and you stopped at the entrance of the school, eyes focusing on the black and gold sports car driving wildly through the front gates. The tires screeched along the gravel, some students screaming as they ran from the path of the car. It didn’t amaze you how reckless the driver was being, knowing fully well he probably enjoyed bringing terror to some of the people here. No one would dare stop him though, if anyone funded this school it was his parents.

“He truly does enjoy making an entrance, doesn’t he?”

You gave a half smile to Newt, nodding at his comment as you kept your eyes upon the car. It came to a halt at the parking lot, barely meeting the lines as the driver put it in park. He could at least try to be considerate to the other cars in the lot, but in true Balem fashion he wouldn’t. It was a sad truth to speak, but you were well aware of the man now exiting his vehicle, his best friend, Eddie, in tow. You were unfortunate enough to have gone to school with Balem Abrasax since the moment you could speak. He was always the most arrogant, outspoken child, never wanting anyone to get in his way. And his parents made sure to nurture that quality in him. You often wondered if he would’ve turned out kinder if not for them, especially after his father passed away. That was almost ten years ago though, and whatever friendship you had with him could no longer be salvaged. He was a decent friend while it lasted, however brief that was. You couldn’t really cherish memories from so long ago…

“Y/N?”

“Huh?” You snapped from your musings, blushing slightly as Newt observed your cloudy state. “W-What??”

Newt gave you a concerned look, his eyes darting from Balem to you over and over again. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, though he knew of your past friendship with the bully, but he always figured you had some semblance of a crush on the man. He didn’t exactly approve of it, but he was never going to interfere with your possible romantic life. Even if he felt he had reason to.

“Do you like him?”

Your blush only intensified at his question, your hand coming up to hide the obvious embarrassment you felt while you muffled out a quick no. “He’s a complete ass…” Your eyes gazed over at him, pressing the alarm button of his car as he held his one notebook to his side. He was clad in a leather jacket, along with black button up and jeans. He rarely wore any other color, often enjoying the darker shades because it made him more authoritative. You had to admit, he worked the style well, but you would never go for a guy like him. “Besides, the fact that he still excels at everything only makes it worse…” You muttered under your breath, a bit envious of all his magnificent traits. He could be a complete dick most days, but if anyone had a promising future in business here, it was him.

“If you say so.” Newt sighed, pushing Jacob back into his pocket as the principal came from inside and started greeting the students.

Everyone was excited right now, the first day of school always feeling the best, until the end of the day and you realize it was going to be another year of homework and bullshit. You just hoped it’d go by fast so winter break could come around.

“Mr. Kreezer!”

Newt and you both looked to the side, noting how Eddie was casually lighting a cigarette right on school grounds. You weren’t well acquainted with the southern teen, knowing he transferred schools only two years ago, but his reputation certainly preceded him. Within a week of starting here he started a fire in the boys bathroom, got caught skipping, and even had the balls to do drugs in chemistry. Though he seemed skilled at using the lab tools, something you weren’t sure was a good thing. The only heaven sent for him? Becoming best friends with Balem, who vouched for him on more than one occasion.

“My office. Now.” The principal groaned in frustration, rubbing at her temples already. You felt for her, wasn’t even the beginning of class, and she already had to deal with Eddie. One could venture a guess that he had some crush on her with how often he ended up in her office.

“Not even the first week and already in my office. Honestly, Mr. Kreezer….”

Balem smirked at her exhaustion, giving Eddie an amused look as he reached over and grabbed his cigarette. He threw it on the floor, crushing it under his boot as he slapped his friend on the back.

“Forgive my friend, Mrs. Sandoval. He doesn’t know any better.”

“I very much doubt that, Mr. Abrasax.” But, your principal just sighed and held both her hands up in defeat. “You’re legally allowed to smoke, Mr. Kreezer, but don’t let me catch you smoking on school grounds again. Do I make myself clear?”

The cowboy just chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he rocked on his boots. “Crystal.”

With his parents hands on the purse strings, it was no surprise Mrs. Sandoval allowed his friend to go free. Something you just rolled your eyes at and dealt with. You never adored those who got away with breaking the rules, especially when she always made it a point to punish Newt for small things in comparison to Balem and Eddie. Sometimes life really did feel like a bad movie.

“Let’s go.” You whined, trying to shove Newt into the building. Only someone managed to stop you two, bumping roughly into Newt’s shoulder and making him drop all his books.

“Hey!” You stumbled over, barely catching your friend before he hit the concrete. Newt grabbed onto your hand, blinking up in confusion as he saw Eddie and Balem standing above him.

“Oh….didn’t see you there…”

Balem smirked down at you both, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t just cause this mess. It grated on your nerves, eyes now narrowing into slits as you rose up with your hands balled into fists. You were rarely victim to his naughty behavior, though you couldn’t say the same for Newt. These two always picked on him for his odd hobbies, and fondness for animals. What made it more infuriating was how little care Newt put into it. He acted like it was nothing the majority of the time, something that frustrated and pleased you. He was such a nice person he didn’t deserve this, but the fact that he didn’t care what others thought of him made him admirable.

“Like hell you didn’t.”

Eddie merely chuckled at your upset, opting to lean against the wall and light another cigarette as he let Balem take care of it.

“What was that, little bird?”

You froze at that nickname, a tint of red adorning your cheeks when he purred it out. That was the name he used to called you as children, a little nickname he just thought suited you back then. Ever since your friendship faded into nothing, you figured that would too. But, over the years whenever he did speak to you, he always made sure to use it. You figured it was his way of tormenting you, like he did so many others.

“Balem-”

“Yes?” He cooed out, leaning closer to you as you backed away. You knew he was messing with you, that smoldering look of his only another game to play. Practically every girl in school swooned over him, you weren’t set on being another statistic.

“I think it’d be best if you leave her alone.”

Newt got between you two, protectively covering you from Balem’s heated gaze. It only made the rich teen laugh, his hand coming up to grip Newt by the coat and shove him to the floor.

“Move, Scamander.”

“Newt!” You made to reach him, but Balem held his arm out, keeping you set within his sights. “Move, Balem!”

“And if I don’t, little bird?”

“Hey.”

Balem glanced up, an annoyed look instantly on his features when he found the only person in school he hated more than Newt standing there.

“Stephen…” He grumbled, angrily moving away from you when the track star neared you both. You hadn’t been friends long with the athlete, you only had him for a class last year but he was always a gentleman with you. He even ate lunch with you guys often, when he wasn’t busy training on the fields. He was the only one in this school not afraid of Balem, a trait you couldn’t help but smile at.

“I said leave them alone.”

“Tsk.” The rich teen scoffed, pulling fully away now before turning on the heel of his boot. Eddie just whistled, clearly impressed with the turn of events. But, he pushed off the wall and followed his friend inside, only stopping when Balem looked over his shoulder at you with an unreadable expression.

“Thank you.” You smiled, hugging Stephen quickly before he held his hand out to Newt still lying on the floor in mild confusion.

“My pleasure. Are you alright?” He looked you both over, giving you a sweet smile as he helped brush Newt off.

“Er-yes, thank you.” Newt picked up all his belongings, nodding in thanks to the track star as he waited for you to move along with him.

“Yeah, we’re fine, don’t worry. Hey, we’re going to the library for a bit, want to come?”

“Oh, no thank you. I have to see coach before first period. I’ll see you both at lunch though.”

He offered you a smile before walking away, leaving you back to stare at him in all his athletic splendor. Newt didn’t miss a beat, and followed your gaze, a frown on his lips as he tried to pry your attention elsewhere.

“The library?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah…yeah…” You cleared your throat, trying to act nonchalant even if you knew Newt saw you checking out Stephen.

“Perhaps it’s due to reaching sexual maturity, but were you looking-”

“Newt!!” You blushed madly at his words, internally wishing the guy had a filter for such things. He was always so open with those topics, thinking there was little to no difference in comparing the animal kingdom to high school. Another reason most girls here stayed away, which was a shame really. He was actually quite handsome when you thought about it.

“Come on.” You urged, pushing him playfully as you walked into the school side by side. “Don’t say things like that. I’m sure people would be more likely to be your friend if you didn’t.”

Newt simply shrugged, and with little care expressed his feelings on the matter. “Not really, people find me annoying.”

***

A/N: What did y'all think?! I love it already, it’s a trashy high school 80’s flick already….in my head. Lol 2 more characters to introduce!! Next time~

98 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

The less I fear-Stephen WraysfordxReader (request)

A/N: Stephen’s turn! First kiss, here we go.

MOOD MUSIC: Rise up by Imagine Dragons

***

The rush of sea air hit his nose, bringing about a calm he hadn’t felt in years. It was an elusive thing, happiness, especially under the circumstances he had been presented with during the war. A man could take his freedoms for granted, and prior to entering the fight, he most certainly had. None of that mattered now though, and how could he allow himself to plunder into darkness again when he held such a bright light by his side. Stephen’s eyes scanned the beach, his toes buried into the damp sand as you came running over with your shoes in hand. He couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his lips, his heart immediately easing away the guilt and stress he was feeling.

“Sorry, I’m late…” You bent over next to him, the ends of your dress barely sweeping the current of the ocean. Between catching your breath and trying to greet him you found yourself gripping at the corners of your attire, not minding the now soaked trim of your dress. Stephen seemed amused by your stressed demeanor, but he didn’t bother teasing about it. He was simply delighted you had made it.

“It’s beautiful.” Stephen said, bringing his gaze back to the sea. It had been a long time since he could partake in a view like this, but he was glad to have you share it with him.

“Yes, it is.” You smiled, happily bringing your arm around his. He stood with his hands in his pockets, the ends of his pants rolled to the knee to save them from the same fate as your clothing. He looked the picture of relaxed, but you could tell that there was more going on up there when you gazed at those lovely eyes. You hadn’t been together long, but you liked to think you had grown accustomed to his behaviors. “Did you want to eat soon?”

“Hm…” Stephen hummed to you, tilting his head to glance at that inquisitive expression of yours. You looked perfect to him then, in that moment, dress improper for society, hair slightly mussed from the wind. But, he adored all of that about you, the casual defiance to the whims of others and the carefree nature in your presence. If he was so bold, he’d say he fell in love just then. “Let’s stay just a bit longer.” He watched your features for any sign of refusal, and when he found none it stilled the doubt in his mind.

“That sounds perfect.”

Stephen gave a winsome smile, his emotions now leading him to dip down to your level. You held your breath as the distance grew short, the very moment he touched your lips with his making your eyes flutter closed. It didn’t last particularly long, but in its beginnings he conveyed the heartfelt emotions behind it. His lips peeled away from yours slowly, breaths mingling softly together as your eyes drew open. You were met with those bright eyes, and a promising smile that made you realize that this fall romance could soon blossom into more.

*** A/N: Been a while since I wrote Stephen. I feel a bit rusty, but hope you enjoy!

#stephen wraysford x reader #stephen wraysford #birdsong #eddie redmayne #Stephen wraysford x you

30 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

We finally fall apart-Stephen Wraysford x Reader smut drabble

A/N: 5/6. One more, woo! But, here we have our angsty soldier. Dear precious Stephen. I made this a bit more intense than the others, as far as reader’s profession goes lol But, I run with what inspiration comes to me. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Hope y'all enjoy.

MOOD MUSIC: Not today by Imagine Dragons

***

Stephen’s grunts fell upon your ear, the heat of his breath making you tremble beneath him as he worked his hips forward. He was holding your legs tightly around his waist, the coarse material of his trousers rubbing against your inner thighs. The mixture of sensations had you writhing around, your hair now a complete mess above your head as he increased his thrusts. He was frantically trying to reach that peak, eyes screwed shut as he groaned deep in his throat. Judging by his increasing shallow pants, he was close and you moaned softly as he pushed into you, slipping over that sweet spot that had you finding the bliss of his passion.

“Stephen…” You breathed out, throwing your head back as he nuzzled into your cheek and growled out his release. You both laid there catching your breaths, his body growing slack over your own until he caved and fell upon you. He often took solace in your company, never just leaving his coin behind and heading out like the others. No, he was different. He needed the emotions behind it, no matter how brief his stay.

You slowly wrapped your arms around him, kissing his sweaty brow in a loving manner. You felt him relax into you, lifting his hips just a bit to clasp his trousers back up. He moved slightly to the side of the bed, still keeping you enclosed in his arms as he laid his head between your neck and shoulder. Stephen sighed in exhaustion, the overwhelming emotions of your most recent tryst finally dawning on him.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, face contorting in anger and grief as he kissed your shoulder. But, you just smiled solemnly, trying to ease the shame in his heart. It didn’t matter how many times he visited you, the remorse after was always there for him. Stephen liked to believe he was better than this, but years of watching his back and finding nothing but death made him crave for the easier parts of life.

“Shh.” You hushed him, lips dipping into a frown when you felt him shake just a bit. It wouldn’t be the first, or even the last time you held a man and allowed him the relief of crying. When soldiers sought this place out it was rarely for fun. In spite of your profession, no one truly knew the reasons behind it. The women here weren’t bodies to be used for fulfillment, but rather a comfort. A comfort of a warm body and a loving embrace that most had left behind when the war started. In the reality of it all, you knew it wasn’t ideal. But, judgements aside, who could blame the men or women here for the things they did? Everyone just needed an escape, even you. And men like Stephen offered you that rare moment of happiness.

“Don’t blame yourself…” Your fingers curled through his hair, trying to convey a sense of comfort the lieutenant surely needed. His eyes always held this never ending sadness, a deep sorrow you couldn’t possibly comprehend. Through all your struggles in these times, nothing came close to the pain you saw in his eyes, or his heart. So you held him, fighting back your own heartache as the lieutenant cried softly into your shoulder. You knew the regret, the shame, but hearts are frail things, and war was even more so. “None of us thought it’d turn out this way…”

***

A/N: The poor baby. Ugh 💔

#stephen wraysford x reader #stephen wraysford #Stephen Wraysford x You #birdsong #eddie redmayne

32 notes · View notes

drdanwrites · 7 years ago

Text

We’ve Still Got Time: Stephen Wraysford x Reader Series Chapter 2

Guys... This chapter has been killing me. Day after day I’ve been staring at a blank screen but thanks to a chat with @jackdawsonsgrl, I figured it out and managed to write it! I really hope you guys enjoy it. Feedback is sincerely welcomed! xxx BTW my son finally a happy camper and sleeping through the night!!! Thanks for understanding everyone! xxx

Drip

Drip, Drip

Drip, Drip, Drip

Stephen sat enjoying the silence of the house before anyone would inhabit the kitchen. He was glad that with all the transition, he was still able to find a moment of routine. He looked over at the leaky faucet. He could almost see her standing there in her long summer dress that clung to her in very flattering way. Her blonde hair in a messy bun, some of her hair falling out in her efforts to fix the sink. Stephen held his breath as he prepared for his vision to face him. To give him that existential feeling as he looked upon her face and gave him a source of comfort. The sun shown around her acting like a heavenly halo. Her hair moved elegantly along her back, the side of her face was began to eclipse.

The kitchen’s side door opened and Françoise trailed in. Her thin curly hair bounced as she trotted up to the table. Stephen looked at her for a moment. A moment he wish he could have taken back as when he flashed a glance back at the sink, his vision was gone. His heart dropped. Everyday he felt her absence anew. Each morning he awoke without her in his life was like losing her all over again. Françoise deserved to know what an amazing woman her mother was from he, the one who knew her he best. But he couldn’t find the words to tell her. How could he convey his love for her in mere mortal words?

“Françoise, my princess, how did you sleep?” Françoise looked up at Stephen as if taken by surprise.

“Yes, well papa.” He did his best to smile. Trying not to show his pain to his daughter.

“Your English is coming along splendidly.” Françoise filled a large glass with the fresh milk on the table and took a sip.

“Mrs. Y/L/N has been practicing with moi.”

“Well...good then.... least she’s good for something.” Stephen retorted trying not to take his annoyance at the mention of your name out on her.

“Ms. Y/L/N is fun. After school today she is going to help me press leaves.” He smiled at her excitement and got up to pat her on the head, unable to find the ability to show anymore emotion towards her than that. He had never known the love of a family and wasn’t sure how to do it for his own daughter. She looked up at him, wanting to ask, but afraid of his answer. “Maybe, papa could please help as well?” Her childish eyes filled with such an overpowering plead that Stephen’s heart melted.

“Of course, my lovely girl.” His hand on her head, traveled down to her chin and he pressed his thumb lightly.

The kitchen door opened again, interrupting the moment and you entered. His demeanor changed and he dropped his hand and moved farther out of your way than was required. Your presence was an insult. He was more than capable of handling his own life, though deep, deep in his subconscious he knew your existence in the house was a blessing. He would never admit this out loud and stared at you through his peripherals.

“Good Morning!” You sang perkily to the room. Françoise smiled and looked to her father. Stephen noticed this and tried to smile, his face forgetting what it was like. It ended up a complacent smirk. You begin to heat up the stove by putting logs into the furnace and go to the fridge to grab the eggs and toasts.

Drip

Drip, Drip

Drip, Drip, Drip

The noise captured your attention and you turned to inspect the sink. Moving to the sink you looked around for the source of the problem, you began to play with the taps and desperately trying to cease the annoying repetitive noise. From behind you, a screech of a chair startled you.

“Don’t touch that.” You turned again to the table.

“Sorry?” You asked, not sure if you heard him correctly.

“I have asked you to stop what you are doing, ” He said a little more forcefully. “Did I stutter?” He mumbled as he sat back down and went back to reading his newspaper, hiding his rage behind it.

You couldn’t fathom what he had just said to you. Had he just asked you not to fix the dripping sink?

“Pardon, Lieutenant Wraysford… but… you’d like me to leave the sink to continue leaking?” You looked back at the sink. Each drop that fell was like a clash of an annoying cymbal.

“That’s what I said.” The voice rose above the newspaper like a large speech bubble that threatened to explode the gentleness of the kitchen atmosphere.

You shrug and make your way back to making breakfast. You look over to Françoise, seeing if she had noticed the passive aggressive exchange. The young girl was sitting with a sketch pad, doodling with three different colour small pencils. Completely oblivious to what was happening around her. You then turn your eyes subtly to Stephen. Behind the paper you could see an angry puff of smoke, He must have lit up without you noticing. This was something you had tried to squash as soon as you had moved in, knowing it couldn’t be good for Françoise to be around. You knew Stephen needed his vices, but this would have to be one reserved for outdoors. You coughed aloud, hoping Stephen would get the hint. This was met with the sounds of a long inhale and an even longer exhale, and then a giant puff of smoke that surrounded Stephen like a thunderous rain cloud.

You brought the two plates of breakfast over, leaving yours for the moment. One was placed before Françoise and she instantly took up her fork and began to eat.

“Once you’re finished we will get ready to leave for school.” You said as you used one hand to push Stephen’s paper down to the table roughly. After placing his breakfast down, you removed the burning cigarette from his mouth.

“Outside, Stephen.” You repeated flatly, in order not to cause a scene in front of Françoise. Without flinching Stephen grabbed your wrist as gently as his annoyed demeanor would allow. He took the still burning cigarette and placed it back into his mouth.

“Excuse me. Won’t you. I’m suddenly not hungry.” He said and roughly rose from his place at the breakfast table and let himself outside. Anger rose inside you. For weeks now you had been putting up with his behavior, believing that if you were more accommodating and understanding to his condition, he would in turn be more welcoming. However, this had not been the case and instead your attempts were met with immature remarks and attitude. Recently, you had taken to calling the shots in order to assert your demand for at least an ounce of respect. This was obviously for not.

Françoise seemed to have noticed something going on between Stephen and you and looked at you worriedly. You looked down at her and grinned.

“I’m sure you’re papa, just needed a breath of fresh air. How fun, a girl’s breakfast together!” You smiled and grabbed your plate, sitting in the middle chair between Françoise and where Stephen sat. Françoise looked still worried as she moved around the bit of eggs and toast left on her plate.

“Papa says that’s where Mama used to sit.”

You instantly stare at her, realizing how much Stephen’s afflictions have effected Françoise.

“Oh, yes dear, quite right. I suppose I will just sit on the opposite side then.” Picking up your plate, you move across the way and finally make yourself comfortable. “Now, if you are done, please go and get dressed so I can walk you to the school yard.” Françoise smiles and excuses herself from the table. As the kitchen door swings close, you bury your head in your hands and sigh a large sigh of frustration. What had you got yourself into?

Drip

Drip, Drip

Drip, Drip, Drip

You looked up again. In front of you stood the empty chair that was meant for the beloved Isabella. Johanna had explained about Stephen and her sister to you. This man had pined for the same woman for almost 10 years of his life. This was no ordinary love and you could appreciate it and tried to abide by Stephen’s requests concerning her memory in the house.

Drip

Drip, Drip

Drip, Drip, Drip

But what you couldn’t do was listen to this leaking faucet go on for whatever attachment Stephen had to it. As breakfast was already ruined for you anyway, you walked over to the sink and rolled up your sleeves. You reach underneath the sink and produce a wrench. You’d pay whatever the consequences for a moment’s peace.

With Françoise and you away, Stephen had come into the house once more, another lite cigarette hanging from his lips. He plopped himself down into his kitchen chair and looked for his paper. It had been folded nicely and his breakfast had been covered as to keep the heat in. Stephen said a silently thank you as he sat down. Shifting his weight he prepared to eat.

Silence.

He looked up. His fork fell to table top and he turned his head slowly towards the sink, but Isabella was nowhere to be seen and the leaking faucet had ceased to bring her back to him. Knocking the chair over as he got up from the table, he looked around. The guilty wrench laid on the counter serving as hard evidence you had not listened to his direct request. The lit cigarette fell from his lips and fell with a descending hiss as it eliminated itself on the water droplets left behind. His fist collided with the counter and he could instantly feel the hardened pain of a bruise instantly form. How dare you try to remove her from this room, this spot. You had come into his life and tried to change all he had worked so hard to maintain. He was existing, coping with life from day to day as best he could. Now you had threatened to change everything he was comfortable with. Without her overwhelming presence, her vision to vanquish his nightmares, how could he go on? She needed to come back, he needed her now. Without thinking, Stephen grabbed his hat and coat and walked out the door.

The large rocks and stones in patches along the dirt road where making it even harder for Stephen to walk straight. It had been most likely a bad idea for him to stay out all day at the nearest pub. His feet tripped him up every couple steps. The alcohol had done its job and his head was swimming with images of her. A faint smile spread across his face.

“Isabella.” He breathed as he stumbled again. She was dancing in his mind to their favorite song. Her laughing face instantly brought a warm and comforting glow to his heart. He loved her. Everything and anything about her. How was he supposed to find anyone as glorious as her? His Aphrodite, his Helen of Troy. She had given him the precious little girl he had first met a year ago at that same breakfast nook. Her sly smile had glowed in his eyes the same as her mothers and the view was unbearable to him at the time. At first the thought of being that little girl’s father had scared him… but by the end of the war, the thought of not being her father, had brought tears to his eyes. He needed that piece of Isabella to live. His only wish was that he could be her father instead of the stranger who moved in.

A twig snapping quickly brought him to his senses and he quickly prepared all of himself to fight. The twig snapped again and this time it sounded more like the cock of a rifle. Not being armed himself, Stephen started quickly looking around for the armed assassin. He circled for what seemed like ages before he could see the glint of moonlight on a black metal rifle in the woods. Not knowing if this was another vision or not, Stephen took off running down the hill. His ears listened for haunted footsteps behind him and he swore he could hear them getting ever closer.

You were fuming. After returning to the house to see the blunt cigarette in the sink, you knew exactly where Stephen had gone, because it was where he went every time you two had a quarrel. You spent an evening cover for him with Françoise as she was upset to learn her father wouldn’t be joining her to press leaves.

“But he promised.” She whined as she dropped her head. Your heart ached for her.

“I know, darling girl. I know he will make it up to you.” Françoise pouted over to the forest edge and began to collect the best looking leaves. You folded your arms, raging internally as you sighed and joined her, a smile forced upon your face.

As you sat in the darkened living room, the only light in the room came from a flickering candle on the table stand next to you. Without warning you heard the front door open and close. You set down your book, instantly knowing it was Stephen as the maid had gone to bed hours ago. Within seconds you were half way across the room.

“Stephen.” You said sternly, preparing to give him a lecture on the importance of keeping his promises to Françoise. Instead, he run up to you and scooped you forcefully into his arms. He turned you so that your back was against his chest and his hand cupped your mouth to silence you.

“SHHH.” He whispered and looked around frantically. You instantly knew two things, he was having a hallucination and he was stinking drunk. A bad combination for someone with his disorder, but very common for Stephen. You tried to tell him that no one was there, but you knew he wouldn’t see reason. His body felt solid pressed against you and you could feel the muscles supporting you. This made you flush in the face as you could feel the cool sweat that clung to his arms, from his narrow escape. You both stood like that for what felt like ages and you almost forgot what you were mad about. The way he held you in his arms was comforting and felt so familiar to you. Something you had longed to feel again for sometime.

Just as you were beginning to enjoy his embrace, his arms let go and your anguish returned.

“I thought I heard something.” He said, pretending as if nothing had happened and he stumbled backwards.

“Did you forget something you promised to do tonight, Lieutenant?”

He drunkenly chuckled. “What are you even talking about?”

“Stephen, you promised your daughter you would spend time with her tonight! I have been comforting a disappointed child all evening. You can’t keep doing this to her. Eventually she will stop asking.”

In his annoyance and anger, he had forgotten his promise. He rubbed a drunkenly frustrated hand through his greased hair. It fell into his face, unhinged from it’s normal placement. If you hadn’t touched the sink, he would have eaten his breakfast contently and he would have been here to press leaves and share a precious moment with his daughter. He knew only too well how fleeting life was and it fueled his anger at you to know that it was your fault. His eyes narrowed at you and he flung an accusing finger at you, it swayed back and forth with his drunk body.

“If you hadn’t fixed the faucet. I told you NOT to touch it. I wouldn’t have left. I would have been here.”

You crossed your arms in front of you not accepting the blame that he was putting on you.

“Stephen, you can’t blame your actions on me. Yes, I fixed the sink, but you weren’t here for your daughter and you chose to do that. You needed the drink more than her. What kind of father does that?”

Your last sentence hung in the air and caused such tension, worse than it had ever been between Stephen and you.

“How dare you.” He exclaimed. “You know nothing of the horrors I’ve suffered. Everyday, I relive them over and over again. That little girl means the absolute world to me, she’s the only reason I get up in the morning.” Internally, you cheer as you hear him say the one thing you were hoping to hear. Closing the gap between the two of you, you look him sternly in the face. Your faces were close and Stephen could just make out the perfect lines in your face and he mentally drew you in his mind’s eye. If he had been more intoxicated he would have taken you, having been deprived of it for so long, but his anger and pride wouldn’t allow the thought.

“Prove me wrong.” You snapped at him. “Show me you can be the father you say you are and spend time with Françoise. Show her that you feel she is the sun and the moon to you.” Your challenge passed between the both of you. Silence greeted it as Stephen took in what you were saying. With a blink you tried to take Stephen’s arm in order to help him to bed. He quickly pulled it away and you shook your head, not believing how childish he was being.

“As always, good night Stephen.” You walked from the living room, into the kitchen.

Tears started to welled up in his eyes. He knew you were right. These drunken nights, while they brought back his beloved Isabella, they took away from her gift. A comforting noise filled his ears and he blinked the tears down his cheek as he breathed out a laugh.

Drip

Drip, Drip

Drip, Drip, Drip

24 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

Good Fortune-Stephen WraysfordxReader

A/N: Hope you enjoy! This is what came to me for your request. I hope it’s decent enough haha. ❤️

MOOD MUSIC: Homage by Feist & Timber Timbre

***

“Tea?” You asked, removing the kettle from the stove as you looked towards Stephen entering the kitchen. It was late, at least a few hours passed midnight and it would seem both of you couldn’t find sleep.

“Yes, thank you.” Stephen took a seat at the table, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. It was another restless night for him, a normalcy now days since the war ended. But, he was lucky enough to have you with him. He was certain that if not for you, he’d be losing himself little by little as the months dragged on. Instead, he found peace in knowing you were here with him, no matter what problems arose.

“You were mumbling a lot.” You took the kettle over to the table, laying it on the tray and pouring a quick warm cup for you both. Stephen just offered you a guilty look, once again feeling awful for likely being the cause of your sleepless night. But, that didn’t matter to you. He had reasons for his occasional insomnia, and all you could do was allow him the bed those nights. “It’s fine, my love. Really.”

You reached over to him, cupping his cheek and laying a chaste kiss on his lips. It appeared to ease his worry for a moment, a smile finally appearing on his handsome face. He looked tired, hair a bit messy from thrashing around the bed. But, he still looked as charming as ever.

“Have you slept at all, darling?”

Stephen took a sip of the tea, enjoying the warmth that spread through his exhausted body. This wasn’t an ideal set up, but he did adore the time he could spend with you. Whether it was early in the morning in the garden, or late at night in the kitchen. Just being with you was enough for him.

“A few hours, but I wasn’t really tired to begin with. You, on the other hand, should be getting to bed.”

You poked at his chest, earning a chuckle from him. Stephen just hummed back, stretching slightly along the chair as he laid his mug down.

“I’ll go to bed, when you go to bed.”

Which wasn’t likely to happen anytime soon. You rarely found sleep again once you woke up, a rather annoying trait of yours. But, late night cuddles with your love wasn’t exactly a bad thing. However, knowing the two of you sleep wouldn’t be on the agenda tonight.

“So staying up it is then?”

You tilted your head in defeat, moving your legs up and resting them on his lap. He pushed your robe up, revealing your legs to him as he danced his fingers along your smooth skin. Even in your tired state, you were still truly beautiful in his eyes.

“Staying up, it is.” He smiled, tickling under your calves, and stopping at your ankles. He didn’t mind pulling an all nighter, especially if you were here to distract him through it.

“Do you want to talk about it? Your dream…?”

Stephen was always closed off about them, not wanting to burden you with his nightmares. In fact, he didn’t even need to reveal anything because you were more than capable of knowing just what woke him to begin with. You could hear his cries from the kitchen, your heart going out to the poor man. He shouldn’t have to shoulder his pain alone, but his pride and care for you stopped him from ever mentioning it. Even now, it was plain to see how uncomfortable he was with the change of topic.

“Y/N-”

“Stephen.” You smiled disappointedly, wanting him to realize that no matter the cause of his heartache, you supported him. And while pushing him to tell you wasn’t your method, you just wanted him to at least understand where you were coming from. “You can tell me.”

He just smiled, looking down at the table in deep thought. It was obvious he wasn’t going to budge, and that was fine with you. Of course you wished to help him in any way possible, but he was a proud person. He’d get there on his own time. Until then, his vague responses would be enough for you.

“Why don’t we just play a little game, hm?” Stephen reached over the kettle, grabbing his pack of smokes and deck of cards. His secret behind his fortune telling was already known to you, but it was like second nature to him now. It almost seemed like a therapeutic action for him, the constant shuffling and organizing. But, you’d humor him if it meant he’d find some peace.

“Let me tell you yours this time.”

You snatched the cards playfully from his hands, smiling as he just laughed and took a drag of his cigarette. He kept his eyes on you, amused at your trouble of even shuffling. You weren’t very adept at card games, or handling cards in general but he so often gave you good fortunes you felt you could return the favor. With a movement lacking grace, you placed the cards down in a formation that had Stephen grinning. It didn’t make sense, in fact it looked like you were attempting to play solitaire. But, he was far too happy to stop you now.

“So…” You glared down in confusion at the cards you flipped over. A king, two, and an ace of hearts. None of it made the slightest bit of sense to you, and even though Stephen had admitted to making up his fortunes half the time, at least he sought deeper meaning into the cards. You, on the other hand, only stuttered through an explanation. “You were a king, in your past life-”

He was already chuckling, smoke hanging casually from his fingers as he raised his eyebrow towards you. “A King?”

“Yes, and…you had two wives-” But, you couldn’t finish your horrible fortune, you were too busy stifling your embarrassed laughter. While the visual of Stephen reigning happily was lovely, the chances were slim. However, seeing him joyfully shaking his head at you and putting out his smoke was completely worth it.

“What a life I led.” He grinned, crunching the end of his cigarette into the ash tray.

You gave a half hearted smile, thinking back on your lives together and wondering if it could even compare to such a fortune. Happiness was something you felt with him, and while you couldn’t give him everything you hoped what you did grant him was enough. It just pained you to not be able to make everything better for him. Especially after all he’s endured.

“I love you, Stephen. I know I’m not much in the way of family, but I truly do love you. With all my heart.”

You stacked the cards back up, moving them to the side. He was taken back by your sudden confession, his eyes lighting up and an honest smile on his lips. His hand came down upon yours, fingertips lithely moving along your knuckles. He was smiling, that elegant one that always made you cave to his desires. For a man that didn’t adore deep conversation normally, he certainly enjoyed bringing about your emotions. If only for his pleasure, because nothing made the former soldier happier than hearing the woman he loved, loved him back.

“You are more than enough.” Stephen sighed, scooting his chair closer to you at the dinner table. He leaned over in his seat, pulling your hand into his lap as he caressed it. “You are my family, and the only one I need.”

“I-”

“Shh.” He tugged you over to him, bringing you into his lap as he cuddled you close to his warmth. He kissed tenderly at your neck, causing a few giggles to escape you. “Just say you love me again.”

He was half joking with you, because even though your pasts mattered to one another, all he truly cared about was the future. And that belonged solely to you.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading!

#stephen wraysford #stephen wraysford x reader #Stephen wraysford x you #birdsong #eddie redmayne

36 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 7 years ago

Text

Tonight (Request)-Stephen WraysfordxReader

A/N: Requested by the lovely @kawaiiusagichansan for a night out at a symphony with Stephen. ❤️ Hope you like! I know the performance seems short lmao but it’s meant to span the entire performance. Writing an hours worth of music just seems daunting…so I hope it’s still okay!

MOOD MUSIC: Painteros Garden by Morten Kargaard Septet

***

“Darling-” Stephen tugged gently on your hand, stopping you just halfway out of the door. You had to brace yourself just a bit on the frame, giggling as he kept you from leaving any further. He had all but begged you to stay in with him, preferring the comforts of home than to head out and be bunched up with complete strangers in a theater. But, you had made him stick to his word for days now. You weren’t about to let up because he was getting cold feet again.

“Stephen, you promised.” You raised your eyebrows at him, giving him a pull towards you. Not that it did much, he was far stronger than you and it worked in his favor. He placed one hand on the doorframe, smirking down at you as he leaned against it with little effort.

“Tomorrow then?”

“There is no performance tomorrow.” You laughed, slapping his chest playfully before fixing his bow tie. He had that mischievous grin he often got with you, something you found incredibly difficult to ignore. There was something far too charming about it, as if whatever he wanted would soon come to fruition because you were likely to cave. Only you were more persistent this time. You both rarely went out, not that you had any issue with that. You enjoyed your alone time with Stephen, but sometimes a change was needed to keep life interesting.

“Mmm, then I suppose a promise is a promise.” He smiled, inching closer to you before quickly pulling you into his embrace. He had you giggling into him, fussing over your hair and attire as he began to wrinkle them with his hug. Not that he found any problems with that, he always adored how beautiful you looked in such a disheveled state. There was something so enticing about it all.

“Enough!”

You pushed him away with a happy expression, setting the pins properly in your hair again before grabbing your coat. The intimacy between you two could wait for now, if only for tonight. Because as far as you were concerned, there was a lovely symphony awaiting you both. And you were hopeful that Stephen could bring himself to fancy it.

***

“This way please, madame.” The usher greeted you both, holding his gloved hand out towards the seats. A number of people had already made their way inside, a sea of voices now flooding over you both. You could tell Stephen was growing particularly annoyed at it all. The heavy noise, and constant chatting creating a buzz of frustration about him. It was one of the many reasons he didn’t care to come out to such events, even though he often pushed you to attend. But, that was his own small way of showing his love. He never wanted you to miss out on anything due to his lack of interest. Which is why you rarely invited him or brought up the current events around town.

This, however, you had high hopes for. You knew Stephen loved music, and even in his more trying times he could find solace in the melodies. So you begged and pleaded with him this one time, because somewhere deep down you knew he’d love it.

“Here.” You laced your fingers together as you pulled him towards the back seats. Offering you both some privacy, but still being able to hear and enjoy the musicians.

He took a seat next to you, placing both your coats on the chair beside him. He didn’t look too invested in the idea of this yet, but despite his initial frustrations he still managed to smile whenever your eyes met.

It took a while for everyone to finally find their seats, but thankfully the performance started soon after. The musicians introduced themselves, giving a bit of history on where they started and how thankful they were for everyone coming out tonight. In between his speech, the usher handed out the programs, wishing you all a lovely evening and to enjoy the show. You were growing excited now, shifting in your seat and watching the conductor eagerly as he raised his hands. And with the most graceful of hand gestures, the symphony began.

Your eyes constantly moved from the stage to Stephen, eyeing him carefully for any signs of boredom or distress. Even though you were more positive than not he’d love this, you were still scared it’d all be for nothing. Instead you found him staring straight ahead at the musicians, features set in an expression of serenity. Every time the music began again his face seemed to soften, that cloud of annoyance pulling away. It was such a simple shift to most, but for Stephen it was so much more than that. As if the very world around him grew silent if only to have his ears graced with the sounds of eternal peace. Something he often found eluding him after the war. And even if this feeling didn’t always last, he could at least find joy in tonight.

Watching him smile was possibly the most wonderful thing in the world. Just knowing in that moment there was calm and peace in his heart. Of course the former lieutenant often found happiness around you, but you weren’t so arrogant as to believe you were the solution to every problem of his. And that didn’t matter, because you were happy enough to earn the privilege of his love and affections. Whether you could make everything perfect for him or not.

You reached your hand over, laying it lovingly over his knee and giving a soft squeeze that earned his attention. His eyes met yours then, amidst the sound of music and cheers just as the symphony drew to a close. With a smile, he leaned over letting his lips press tenderly against your temple. It was a sweet gesture, one that made your eyes flutter closed and heart skip a beat. He would never stop creating such an achingly wonderful feeling in you. It was just one of the many things you adored about him. Every moment felt like the first with him, and you were positive that would never end.

“Did you enjoy it?” You prodded, giving him a little knowing smirk. It was plainly obvious that he had, but teasing was always a constant in your relationship.

Stephen let out a small breath of a laugh, narrowing his eyes towards you in question. How could he not enjoy such a performance? And sharing it with you only made his night even better.

“You know I enjoyed it.” He pulled you into him, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. With one swift movement he laid his coat over his arm and closed the program you were both given before the performance. He’d likely find many of them scattered along the floor or outside of the theater, but he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. It was a rare thing for him to come into town when it wasn’t in regards to work or shopping, so knowing this would mark a date for him to remember with you made it entirely special.

“Thank you, darling.” Stephen stared fondly at the pamphlet, lips curling into a grin as he held you firmly against him. “For tonight-” He laid a chaste kiss on your lips, pressing your noses together as he gratefully spoke. “And for everything.”

***

A/N: Hope you liked~

#stephen wraysford x reader #stephen wraysford #birdsong #eddie redmayne #Stephen wraysford x you

20 notes · View notes

anodyne-sunflower · 8 years ago

Text

Morning affections-Stephen Wraysford x Reader

A/N: Just answering some Stephen requests. Two of you wanted anything Stephen related, and another wanted Stephen cuddles lol So here is this short and sweet ficlet. ❤️🎖

****

You fell back into the sheets, stretching out and enjoying the way your endorphins ran along your spent body. It created a sense of calm, a relaxing pleasure that made you smile and reach up for Stephen in your bliss.

Your fingers swept along his freckled cheek, eyes traveling along his handsome features as he leaned down and kissed you. These moments were something you always delighted in, just basking in the after glow of sex, so passionate and long that left you completely exhausted by the end of it. But, even so, you couldn’t stop yourself from wanting your husband all the more for it.

You slipped your fingers through his messy hair, giggling when he tilted his head and kissed the inner side of your wrist. He grabbed your hands, pinning them back down and nuzzling into your neck.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked, happiness clear in his lustful tone.

You sighed contentedly, staring up at him through half lidded eyes as the high you felt slowly faded. “You’re tickling me, darling.”

“Am I, now?” Stephen kissed a soft trail up your neck, moving his lips along your reddened cheek before his nose pressed into yours. “And where are you ticklish, exactly?”

“Don’t play that with me, dear husband.”

He just chuckled at your mocking words, moving until your wrists were held firmly in one of his hands. He used his free one to tap along your cheek, down your jaw and chest until he stopped just above your navel. His lips curled into a devilish smile, that same one that always meant he was up to something.

“Stephen Wraysford, if you start that I-”

But, your words trailed into laughter, legs attempting to kick at your husband as he tickled along your stomach and hips. After all these years, he knew exactly where to touch, kiss, and nip if only to draw those sweet giggles from you. And as torturous as it was, you loved it.

“Stephen!!!”

“Yes, love?” He smiled down at you, bare skin brushing against yours as he moved from between your legs. He finally let up on his relentless teasing, instead slipping behind you and pulling you back into his chest.

“You’re awful…”

Your words were breathless from his tickling, yet the mirth behind them wasn’t lost on the former soldier. Stephen hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder as he laced your hands together.

“Perhaps…but you fell for me anyway.”

You scoffed in amusement, snuggling back into him. “Yes…suppose I did.”

***

A/N: Hope you liked!

#stephen wraysford x reader #birdsong #stephen wraysford

70 notes · View notes

drdanwrites · 7 years ago

Text

Stephen Wraysford x Reader Series (We’ve Still Got Time) is the Winner!

Thank you to everyone who contacted me and voted. I have the first chapter all written and ready for you below!

Since it was such a close call, I’ve decided to write the other series as well. The first chapter of One Love will be posted Friday!

Please note these is a bit of violence or implied violence and mentions of death and blood.

Chapter 1:

As his foot landed in the dirt, ashes kicked up around him making an eerie grey fog surround him. He had seen these trenches and he knew each path to take. As he continued to walk, everything was slow and he could see the dirt particles flying through the air as another bullet hit the ground. A straight line here, a left turn there and he instantly found himself before the entryway of a crumbling shack. The doorway was dark and he couldn’t make out anything inside. A pistol, attached by a worn and tattered string to his trousers, was clenched in his hand. His legs carried him to the open door as his mind screamed, no you fool. His other hand gripped the door frame. Light spontaneously showed from behind him and lit the way to the well hole in the middle of the room. No. His brain called out but his foot took a step into the shack. Don’t. His brain pleaded. The sound of his worn boot soles reverberated against the aged walls. When he reached the well, it took everything he had to place a quivering hand on top of the well hole. Sweat collected and rolled down under his hat. You know they’re down there. He did know it and he wanted to stop himself from moving his body forward. Wanted to run from the room screaming, but he couldn’t. His eyes peered over the top of well. It was black. For a moment he was relieved, even if it was short lived. The first thing he made out was a young officer. His body laid in an awkward position, lifeless on top of another body. This body on top of another body and continued down. There were entwining limbs and faces… the faces. The features of the ones he knew. The ones he had called family…. Firebrace… his comrade’s face flashed before his eyes and he stumbled backwards.

“Papa?” Only he doesn’t hear these words. He hears the wretching sounds of a German accent. His spine went rigide as he turned on his heel. A shadowed figure now stood in the doorway and although he couldn’t see the figure’s face, he knew it was the enemy. The reason all those men were in the well. In their eternal graves. His pistol hand knew what to do as it extended out slowly, trying not to bring attention to his defense.

“PAPA.” The voice screamed louder, though he still couldn’t hear their cries for mercy. His arm was full extended now as the pistol gave him added length. He was waiting for the right moment. The moment his bullet would fully take the bastard by surprise. His finger on the trigger rubbed the metal in anticipation. Sweat was now fully forming on his forehead and began to slowly fall from his face and onto his uniform below. His eyes were slits and twitched with preparation for the shock of the kickback that he would soon embrace. The figure seemed to be unaware of their fate and he took this as his advantage.

“Mr. Waysford!” The jolt of reality shocked Stephen Wraysford and his pistol which was facing a figure, the figure of his 8 year old daughter. She was a statue against the bedroom door. His finger slipped in the shock and his heart sank faster than lightning. The revolver clicked in an anticlimactic false start. Everyone in the room let out a immediate sigh of relief. Stephen stood almost wobbling back and forth. The nightmare had taken a lot out of him physically and emotionally. He suddenly slumped back against the wall and blacked out. He almost enjoyed these moments where he was too exhausted to feel, too exhausted to remember her face.

The cook, who had entered the room only by accident quickly aided the little girl, who seemed to be in some shock. She had aimlessly walked into the kitchen to get a cup of water as her room had been too dry. Upon hearing the other kitchen door open, she had seen the figure of her father. He stood quite still, eyes half closed as he made his way nearer the kitchen table in the middle of the room. The little girl had moved from the sink, to the other side of the table.

“Papa.” She had called out. Her mousey french accent had seemed to catch his ear but he did not utter a sound. He seemed to not recognize her. As she went round the table to hug him, his pistol suddenly rounded the other side of him and took aim at her head. Quickly she had jumped back and walked right into the opposite wall. For sometime he stared at her with his eyes half open.

“PAPA.” She called trying to arouse him from his daze. The pistol was cocked back and she silently began to whimper.

It had been a year since the two had learned of each other’s existence. Her mother had passed from her injuries she acquired during a bombing in their old home. Her aunt had become her surrogate mother and before her father had turned up one summer afternoon, suitcase in hand. For a time it had seemed that Françoise had the perfect family, a full dynamic. Her father , Stephen was cold and standoffish for a time. She had been eager to get to know him once learning of his relation. Though she could sense his troubles, times where he would go into a rage behind locks doors or stare out a window for far too long. In these moments she likes to observe him and take in who he was as a person, trying to see how he would fit in with her life.

These silent moments where nothing like the horror she faced in this scene as her father was unreachable. Suddenly, a third door opened and Françoise could swear she hear an angel chorus. As Heidi had entered, she seem to recognize the situation and called out to her father. With the sudden mention of his name, the trance seem to fade from his green eyes, though his body was still in it and his finger pulled the trigger.

As his body lay slumped on the floor, Hedi rushed over to Françoise. After quickly looking over every inch of her body, to make sure he had not hurt her, Heidi rushed to the telephone. Her shaking finger rolled over the numbers and waited to be connected to an operator.

“Bonjour, hôpital.” Her speech was broken and only short sentences shot out. Françoise held onto her dress for comfort as she watch her father sleep soundly at last. “Jeanne, it’s getting worse. He had a gun to her head…Françoise, yes of course! I cannot be responsible for him. You need to call someone in.” As Françoise heard Heidi continue on in the background, she slowly let go of Hedi and walked over to her father. She carefully removed the pistol from his hand and placed it delicately on the ground. The floor was cold as she sat down on her legs next to him. Her hand folding around his.

The hospital was busy as you sat in the waiting room to be called. The case file you had been handed was not a large one, but the contents were substantial enough to warrant your services. After the war there had been too many soldiers, too many families left broken. The last family you cared for had seen 3 child without a father and a mother who needed to earn a man’s wage to keep the family intact. You watched as men in wheelchairs desperately tried to get around and young boys who were trying to get used to opening a door with one arm. The war had left so much devastation in its wake and it didn’t just affect the grounds of battle, but the minds and hearts of the brave men and woman who gave themselves to the cause.

“She’s ready to see you now.” A nurse in uniform comes up to you. Thanking her with a nod, you get up and follow her down a long hallway. When you reach the room, a woman sits up in the hospital bad. She looked worn and tired. Her hair is thin and oily, she tries to run a hand through it’s long strands, but it hardly helps. You find a chair in the corner of the room and bring it closer to the woman. As you settle into the chair, you can see she is very thin and pale, uneaten food sits on a side table next to her.

“Jeanne?” You ask her. She nods with a smile. You place out a hand and she accepts it in a friendly shake. “I’m Y/N Y/L, it is so very nice to meet you.”

“I hope your travel in wasn’t too inconvenient.” Jeanne replied as she referred to your recent move from England to France.

“Not at all. On the contrary, I found the change of scenery very refreshing. Can’t tell you how bleak London has been since all this war business.” You tried your best to stay as formal and professional as possible, when all you wanted to do was reach out a comforting hand to the woman, after all she had lost her sister and fell ill all within a short time.

“I take it the agency sent you my request.” You look down in your lap at the folder which held Jeanne’s application for a carer. Folding over the flap, you remove the documents which revealed Françoise and Stephen’s story.

“Yes, I did. I’ve had a chance to read it over, twice. Nothing I haven’t seen or handled before. This war has left a lot of our men to deal with the nightmares of everything they have seen. I’ve worked with children Françoise’s age before and have dealt with several ex soldiers who were diagnosed with battle fatigue.”

“I wish I could be there to help him, but I…I” As she spoke, her emotions took over and she began to tremble. You quickly reach over and place your hands on hers.

“Please do not fret, Jeanne. I promise you, they are in the most capable hands. I don’t want to you pressure yourself, merely focus on your recovery, please.” Your eyes show her all the devotion you have to her family. She nodded as she silently cried. “There there. Please, dry your eyes.” Turning to the tissue box beside the bed, you reach and pull on up as it’s replacement takes its place. You hand it to her and Jeanne takes it and dabbs the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you.” She whispers. The door to the room opens and a little girl runs inside. Jeanne’s exterior quickly changes to that of a brave mother and smiles.

“Françoise!” She says was excitement. The little girl returns the glowing smile and climbs onto the bed, cuddling into her loving aunt. Jeanne wraps her arms around Françoise, laying a danity kiss upon her head. “Where is your father.” She said as looked to the door.

“He’s speaking to the doctor outside.” Her little green eyes fall upon you. Jeanne notices and hugs her closer, looking up at you.

“This my dear is Ms. Y/L, she’s going to be staying with Papa and you while I’m away here. You better mind what she says.” Françoise timidly peered at you. This makes you smile and you give her a tiny wave of your fingers.

“Bonjour Françoise. I look forward to getting to know you better. I can tell we are going to get along very well.” As you said this, boots entering the room. You look up to find an extremely handsome man standing in the doorway. Everything about his demeanor screamed that he had just served his country. Jeanne and Françoise looked up at the man. His first glance connected with yours. His face didn’t give away if he was happy or not with your presence.

“Y/N L/N, this is Stephen Wraysford.” The two of you look back at each other, you immediately walk over to each other and connect hands. Instantly a thrill rushes up your arm and down your spine. You do your best not to show this in your face. Stephen gives you a gentle smile.

“Ms. L/N, pleasure.” He looked from you to Jeanne, as if he looking for her to explain why you were present in the room.

“Ms. L/N is going to be staying with Françoise and you.” Stephen dropped your hand quickly. He folded his arms across his chest, you can tell instantly this situation wasn’t a good topic between the pair.

“I thought we discussed, a carer wasn’t needed, Jeanne. Françoise and I are doing just fine.” According to the file you read, you knew this was not the case. Jeanne coughs slightly.

“We did discuss this, however she’ll be more of a carer for the house and for Françoise.” Stephen pondered over her words as he looked you up and down, only moving his eyes. Jeanne’s cough continued to get worse as she tried to continue the conversation. Stephen and you quickly rush over to help. Stephen grabs the water on the food tray next to the bed and you carefully help remove Françoise to let Jeanne have more space. Jeanne trembles as she took the water with shaking hands. She greedily gulped down the liquid and the coughing seemed to die down, but it had left its mark on her physically as she tried to catch her breath. As Stephen fixes her blankets, Jeanne begins to closer her eyes. You can hear her mumble a few words to Stephen. He stops mid-tuck and puts a hand on Jeanne’s shoulder before turning around. You stand with Françoise tightly tucked behind your leg. Stephen looks down at the both of you as he turns.

“I think it may be time to give her some rest.” He says as he ushers you all out of the room.

Let me know what you all think!

21 notes · View notes