#I’ve been fairly lucky when it comes to my pulls too

[sara-scribbles]

I haven’t summoned since the starsending event, but I wanted Leona’s sr card. My first single summon brought home Jamil ssr 😅 I did get Leona after 15 more single pulls.

How’s everyone else’s summons going?

[antiquarianfics]

You Have a Girlfriend?

So you get a little confused when you’re drunk? So what?

a/n: I saw a goofy little twitter post about this somewhere and ran with it. I’m goofy when I’m drunk, so, honestly? A very plausible scenario.

warnings: Mild language, alcohol consumption.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.

You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.

—

You’re sitting next to Bucky and across from Sam, and you are a little very drunk. The three of you chose to have a drink and talk after a long day of working on the Wilsons’ boat. The issue, however, is that Sam challenged Bucky and yourself to a drinking game, and you were desperately losing.

One thing about you is that when you’re drunk: you feel the need to tell everyone how much you love them. Another thing about you when you’re drunk: your memory sucks.

“Sam,” you whisper yell across the bow of the boat. “Sam. Sam. Sam.”

Sam raises an eyebrow at you when he turns his attention to you.

“I have a secret to tell you! No, two secrets!” You hold out two fingers in front of you.

Sam smirks. “What’s that?”

“One,” you hold up one finger, “I love you; you’re a good friend. Two,” you hold up a second finger, “your friend who’s sitting by me is really, really hot.”

Sam lets out a loud laugh, and you grin at his reaction.

“I love you, too, kid.”

Bucky is smiling fondly at you, watching you with love and adoration. He’s glad he can’t get drunk simply for the ability to take care of you while you let loose.

“I’m really, really hot, huh?” Bucky teases, and he laughs when you nearly get whiplash from turning to look at him.

Your eyes are wide as you stare at him. In your drunken state, you clearly didn’t expect him to hear your admission to Sam. You relax after a second, though, and smile at him.

“Yeah, you are. Y’know, I was wonderin’…” you trail off, getting distracted as you stare into his bright blue eyes. You let out a content sigh as you observe him.

“What were ya wonderin’, Doll?” He lets his hand rest on your thigh, rubbing his hand up and down comfortingly.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” Your question is dead serious. There’s no hesitancy or joke in your voice, and Bucky finds it completely endearing. He chuckles as he stares at you, and you can faintly hear Sam lose his shit. You don’t pull your attention away from Bucky at all, though.

“I do,” Bucky informs you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at your reaction.

Your eyes go wide, tears prickle at the corner of them. You swallow and wipe them away before doing your best to come up with a steady voice.

“Is it serious?” You question him.

“Very,” he smiles. “‘m gonna ask her to marry me.”

Generally speaking, Bucky wouldn’t have told you his plans, but he is fairly certain you’re not going to remember this conversation in the morning. And, if you do, he isn’t too concerned because he is so very serious.

You make no effort to hide your disappointment, and you let your tears fall freely this time.

“Oh, okay. She’s so lucky. Does she make you happy?”

“Happier than I’ve ever been.”

“Oh. That’s good.”

You’re obviously upset, and you’re obviously unaware Bucky is talking about you. Sam is trying not to laugh, but his wide grin betrays him. Bucky, however, finds himself more concerned than entertained when you start to actually cry.

“Doll, what’s wrong?” He wipes a tear away with his thumb, softly holding your face.

“No!” You push his hand away, eyes going wide. “You have a girlfriend! She wouldn’t want you touchin’ me!”

He laughs then. He can’t help it. After all, his girlfriend would very much want him to touch you. You always have your hand interlaced with his, or your body snugly tucked into his side, or your hand in his hair, or… The list goes on.

“Hey, don’t laugh.” You frown.

“Sorry, sorry. ‘s just that my girlfriend loves when I touch you.”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.

“Why would she like for you to touch other women?”

Sam bursts into another round of laughter. He is struggling to breathe as he wordlessly points at the two of you, ignoring Bucky’s glare.

“Oh, Doll, she doesn’t. She hates it, really, and I never pay another dame a lick of attention. She’s the only one I’ve got eyes for.” He kisses your forehead, a form of punctuation to his assurance.

Your critical thinking skills, however, are formally shot.

“You’re lying! You’re paying me attention! And I’m not your girlfriend! What’s your girlfriend’s name? I’ve got to tell her you’re cheating. Girl code.”

Sam loses it again.

“Your girlfriend! You: cheating! Shit!” Sam barely manages to get a thought out. Bucky grins at his friend. He can’t deny that he is just as entertained by your antics.

He pulls out his phone, opening his contacts up to the one labeled “Dollface,” and hands it to you.

“Here,” he says, “call her.”

You nod and take his phone, hitting the call button and holding his cellphone to your ear.

A ringtone fills the night air and you frown when you feel a vibration in your back pocket. Clumsily, you pull your own cellphone out of your pocket and look down at the screen.

“JBB <3 is calling…” appears on your screen along with a candid photo of Bucky laughing.

You stare at it, and Sam and Bucky stare at you. You don’t do anything—don’t say anything, don’t move—until the call goes to voicemail. Finally you look up at Bucky.

“Why’d it call me?”

“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend,” Bucky finally says.

Your face breaks into a wide grin.

“No shit!”

—

“I wasn’t that drunk!” You insist the following morning.

Sam and Bucky exchange a look before laughing.

“Kid,” Sam says once he’s calmed down enough. “You asked Tin-man if he had a girlfriend and cried when he said yes.”

Your eyes go wide as you turn to Bucky for confirmation.

“You did, Doll,” he says, smiling.

You stare for a moment before shrugging and turning back to your coffee in front of you.

“Y’know what? That’s a totally reasonable reaction,” you say, leaning back into Bucky as he situates himself behind you and plants a loving kiss in your hair.

[runnning-outof-time]

Omggg congrats on 3.5k!! That’s incredible! Duuuude this short prompt blurb challenge is gonna blow up! For me, would you be open to doing one with Tommy, using the prompt sentence, “Look at me right now”? He sure can be demanding when he wants something lolol🥰🥵again, congratulations dear! You deserve all the love!

Oh thank you so much for sending this in @tragiclotus ! You’re so right - he really can be! I hope you like what I did with this, and that you’ve been enjoying the blurbs I’ve been sharing! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

No One But You

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, worry of past lovers returning…nothing too major

Word Count: 1018

Summary: Tommy assures (Y/N) that she’s the only woman he wants after two women from his past reappear in his life.

She must’ve read the return address a dozen times. Why? She didn’t know. It wasn’t like reading it again was going to make the sender’s name change. But yet she did anyway.

(Y/N) knew who Grace was. She’d heard about her; knew what she’d done to Tommy and his family. So why the hell was she sending him letters now?

At first she spoke to Polly, who told her to hide them. As a clerk at the postmaster’s office, she’d make sure to bring any mail the Shelbys received with her whenever she’d come to visit her boyfriend. When she’d arrive at Watery Lane, she’d follow the older woman’s suggestion and promptly slip the envelope into one of the side table’s drawers; hoping that Tommy wouldn’t find them there. But they just kept coming.

And now as she was walking to Watery Lane with what was the fifth letter Grace had sent, she didn’t know if she could keep up with hiding them. So instead she kept it in her hands, re-reading it until she heard the door open.

She stood to her feet at the sound and walked over to greet her boyfriend, accepting his kiss and shoulder squeeze as a greeting. Tommy knew something was wrong the second he pulled away. (Y/N) wasn’t wearing her usual, welcoming smile. Instead, her expression was blank.

“Has something happened?” he asked her, his brows furrowing together.

“This came in to the post today,” she answered him, extending her hand to hold the envelope out between them.

Tommy’s brows furrowed deeper as he scanned over the words written on the envelope.

“Why does she keep writing you?” (Y/N) couldn’t stop herself from asking, desperate to know why he was still receiving letters from her.

She and Tommy had entered a relationship only five months ago, but she was no stranger to the life that he lived and the company he’d kept in the past. Tommy Shelby was sought after by many, and somehow she’d gotten lucky…or at least that’s what she kept telling herself. No matter how many times his actions reassured her that he was hers alone, that nagging seed of doubt still crept into her mind. Like it was doing now.

“I don’t know why,” he answered with a shake of his head, “I haven’t spoken to her since she left for New York.”

“She’s written to you five times,” (Y/N) couldn’t withhold the information any longer. Tommy’s brows furrowed again upon hearing her admission, so she decided to elaborate: “Polly said that I shouldn’t give them to you; that I should hide them instead. They’re in the side table. I don’t know why I listened to her. I just…I couldn’t bring myself to give them to you.”

Tommy looked down at the letter and back to (Y/N), seeing that she was now biting on her lip, a nervous tendency of hers that he’d noticed fairly early into their relationship.

“May Carleton also came to meet you last week…” she spoke again after silence had hung in the air for a few moments.

“She needed to speak about the horse,” he answered in a nonchalant manner, not thinking much more of the meeting he had with the other woman.

(Y/N), of course, was overthinking it.

“Hey…” Tommy brought her out of her thoughts, making her focus on him again. “I can see you fighting with yourself. Let those thoughts go.”

“I can’t…I just can’t help but wonder if maybe, if maybe that, that with them coming back…” she tried to speak but her mind betrayed her, and the lump that formed in her throat stopped her from speaking altogether.

Not much more was needed to connect the dots though. The clues had been dropped and Tommy was quick enough to pick them up and place them in order. “Those women are in the past, (Y/N). You’re the one I want,” he spoke with sincereity, hoping that it’d quell the thoughts swirling around her mind.

(Y/N) held eye contact with him until she couldn’t anymore. She felt those worries still bubbling up inside of her, even though he’d just flat out told her that he wanted her. She dropped her gaze to her fingers, watching as she picked at her nails.

“(Y/N)…” Tommy tried to get her attention, but to no avail. “Look at me right now,” he went another route, using his index and middle finger to raise her eyes to his again. He could see that they were watery now, and he hated that she was thinking so far into this. He took her cheeks into his hands, pulling her the slightest bit closer to him before speaking again. “There’s no one but you, ok? You’re the one I want to be with. You’re the one I want,” he reiterated his point, his eyes searching hers as he spoke. “Ok?” he asked again after she hadn’t spoken in a few moments.

“Ok,” (Y/N) breathed out, nodding her head the best she could with it held in his hands. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, hoping to steady herself. When she opened them again, they immediately hooked onto Tommy’s intense blue ones. “I’m sorry, Tommy,” she felt that she had to apologize.

“Don’t be,” he shook his head slightly at her statement, “there’s no reason for you to be sorry, love.”

“But I…”

“No,” he cut her off, “I’m going to burn this letter, and any other letter that comes. You’re the one I want, (Y/N).”

A small smile formed on her face at his words. She reached out and gently ran the back of her hand down his cheek, watching as his eyes dropped to her lips. Knowing what was coming next, she closed her eyes, leaning in slightly and meeting him in the middle, their lips finding each other’s in a passionate kiss that rid her mind of all of her doubts.

“No one but you, love,” Tommy whispered against her lips before kissing them again.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @youtifulsunshinelixfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone (pt 3)

Synopsis: After Tommy fixes you up, you can't help but let old feelings get in the way. Then, the unexpected happens.

word count 2.8k

information/warnings: cursing, talk of death, not too much, the LIGHTEST hint of smut activity. this chapter is very strange to me, i wrote 3 different versions of it, and this is the one that i felt would carry the story further. not proofread!!

taglist: @budugu, @ajmiila02, @filmtv2022, @cyphah, @ce1iat, @thenattitude

thank you all so so much for reading, i hope you enjoy this chapter!! please leave a comment if you had questions, critiques, anything!

As you sat in the back office of the Garrison, waiting for Thomas, you heard the wails of a man coming from the bar. You could hear every single time a punch connected here, a kick landed there, and the screams that punctuated each. If you strained your ears hard enough, you could hear small grunts and pants of air coming from another man, who you assumed to be Tommy. The beating continued for another few moments, and all you could do was listen. The cries and moans of pain eventually stopped, followed by a distinct voice. 

“Get ‘em out of my fuckin’ pub. I’ve got to go see about my girl.” 

It was Tommy, and he called you ‘his girl’ in front of everyone. 

Tommy entered the office, wiping his hands with a bar rag. You noticed the slight red tinge on the cloth, but decided to let him handle it, he was Tommy Shelby after all, surely he’d had worse than a couple of bruised knuckles. You watched him, as he cleaned his hands and then looked at you. Without speaking, he moved to his desk and opened one of the lower drawers. He pulled out a small white box, marked on the top by a small red cross. 

“C’mere, Love. Let me see that cut.” He said, motioning for you to sit on his desk while he sat in his chair. 

You walked towards him, wringing your hands together out of nervousness. Not only were you nervous because you were about to have his undivided attention, but him calling you ‘his girl’ still rang loud in your mind. You approached his desk, standing in front of where he was seated in his chair. He stood, hooking his hands under your arms, and lifted you so that your ass was directly on top of his desk; you were fairly certain you were sitting on some important legal documents. He softly grabbed your chin, and tilted your head to the side, allowing for him to get a clear view of your face. He gave a little ‘hmph’ and opened the first aid box. He pulled out a spray, an ointment, and a bandage. You realized how lucky you were to not need stitches when you saw the plain needle and thread also in the box. 

“This is going to sting Love, so just sit still for me, okay?” He spoke, turning your head so that you had to look him in the eye. 

“Okay, Tommy.” You nodded. 

He began with the spray, which stung like hell, but you were tough and you wanted to be good for him so you sat still as frozen concrete. The small smile that appeared on his face at your little grimace didn’t go unnoticed. 

“Good girl. The next thing shouldn’t sting, but still, don’t move.” He said, the deep baritone of his voice making your ears heat up. 

While Tommy was applying the ointment and bandage to your forehead, the two of you began talking. He told you a little bit about the war, as you were young and left almost as soon as he got back. He still felt guilty speaking about it to you now, in his mind you were innocent, despite how you just beat a grown man's ass into the dirt a few moments prior. He thought that you should never have to know about war, about mass casualty. He told you about the tunnels he helped dig and operate, and every once in a while when he would get choked up, you would rub your hand along his arm that was still doctoring your face. One particular moment made you realize just what he had been through. 

“We were down there, it was dark and it stunk. My God, Y/N, it stunk. People died down there and we had no way to get them out, no way to even try and get them help. Towards the end, one of my comrades, one of the few I was actually friendly with, he got hit. We never even saw it coming. He got left down there, and sometimes, I still see him…” Tommy trailed off. 

You watched him with sympathy as a single tear rolled out of his eye. Tommy had seen you cry plenty, but this was the first time you had ever even seen his eyes water. 

“Shh, it’s okay, Tom. Why don’t I tell you more about my time up North? Did you know thats where I went? Up North?” You said softly, trying to get him to come out of his head and back into the present with you. 

“I knew you went North, Y/N. I called around about you until I found someone who knew where you were. I just wanted to know you were safe.” He said. 

Tommy had looked for you? Not only looked, but he knew where you were this entire time? So much for ever truly getting away from the Shelby’s, you laughed at yourself. 

“Well then how come I never heard from you? If you knew where I was, why didn’t you ever stop in? Or were you watching me so that you’d be able to stop me from ever coming back?” You scoffed, now leaning back on your hands since he was done with your cut. 

“Of course I wanted you to come home, Y/N. I didn’t reach out because I thought you ran away from me. I didn’t want to scare you off the continent, so I settled for just knowing you were safe.” He replied, packing up his first aid box. 

You studied his expression, and savored his words in your mind. You had been holding feelings for Tommy since you were 16. You were both grown now, and although you couldn’t be certain, the things he was saying sounded an awful lot like something you’d say to someone you cared for. You decided to bite the bullet, and expose your younger self. 

“Look Thomas, we’re both grown, professional, adults right?” You said, cocking your head to the side. 

“...Right?” He answered, giving you a puzzled look. 

“Well then, I’m just going to out myself, and if you don’t like what I have to say then we’ll pretend I didn’t say it,” you paused, just trying to see if he would interrupt, he didn’t. “I have looked at you in so many ways Tommy. I’ve seen you be a brother, a friend, an enemy, but all you ever were to me, since I was sixteen years old, was Tommy. My Tommy. I have pined after you and wanted you since I was sixteen, and you never gave me the time of day. I don’t know what you mean by all of what you’ve said, especially earlier when you were poking fun at me over dinner, but I can see that you care for me Tommy. I’m not sure how thick you think these walls are, but I heard you call me ‘your girl’ earlier. You have opened up to me without reserve like I have never seen you do before Thomas. Never. I’m saying all this to say a few things. One, I didn’t say goodbye to you because I couldn’t face you. I knew that if I had to look at you, and have one last conversation, that I would hold onto that for the rest of my life, and those words would be the only ones of yours that I could ever hear in my head. Two, I want you to understand, and make no mistake, that I like you Thomas. Not just in a ‘well he’s fine, I like him way’, but in a way that makes my ears hot, that makes me want to giggle like a child and swing my arms around. I like you in a way that is bordering on love, Tommy. And three, I need to know if you feel the same way. I need to know. Even if you don’t, even if you have never looked at me like that and you never will, and all I will ever be to you is an annoying family friend, I need to know.”

You took a deep breath, unsure of what was going to come next. You felt a single tear roll down your cheek, but not from sadness, from relief. You had been holding onto these feelings for years, you never shared them with anyone, their weight was your own. You watched his face as he processed all of this. Practically watched the wheels turn in his brain. You had watched him so much, that you had his beautiful face committed to memory, forevermore trapped in your brain. This version of Tommy, the version where he hadn’t yet opened his mouth to tell you that he doesn’t like you, that he doesn’t see you like that, was perfect. He was beautiful, all soft pink lips and tortured blue eyes. You even thought the dark colors under his eyes from being sleep deprived were pretty. You took one last photo of him in your mind, before he opened his mouth. He stood from his chair, putting him above your eye level. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it shut again. He did this a few times, each time the look in his eye changing with the opening and closing of his mouth. Finally, he spoke. 

“Y/N, I am rarely left speechless, but I think you’ve caught me here, Love.” He said softly, bringing his hand up to cradle your jaw. 

He leaned his head in towards you, slower than you ever thought it possible for a human to move. Once you realized what was happening, a million thoughts ran through your head. Were you really about to kiss Thomas Shelby? Was he really about to kiss you? Here? In his office? You never imagined this would be his response to your love-fueled ramblings, but this was the best outcome you ever could’ve hoped for. You had fallen for this man many years ago, but those feelings weren’t like regular school-yard crushes. They never went away, never dwindled, never stopped or changed in any negative value. You had filled your own head with imagined words he’d said to you, convincing yourself that if he ever noticed you, just once if he could see you for the woman you truly are, that he would love you, or like you at least. But now, after you had confessed and outed and embarrassed yourself in his office, now is when he chooses to notice you? Here? While your face is bandaged up from a bar brawl that you got into? You weren’t the typical woman that Tommy Shelby went for, not now. He would go for women who were outwardly dainty, yet fierce inside. Women who carried small pocket knives in their dress pockets, and would brandish them as a ‘party trick’. Tommy Shelby did not go for women who held their own, physically. He did not go for women who stole knives off of fighting opponents, who held their composure getting fixed up in a dark back office, women who went away for five years and turned up without so much as a ‘hello’ or ‘goodbye’. 

Your inner monologue quickly settled, as you realized that you had created all of those thoughts within a few milliseconds, as here stood Thomas before you, still leaning in to press his lips to yours. You waited, breath hitched, eyes slowly closing, lips slowly parting, your hand coming to rest on his waist, just waiting for the fiery moment when his lips touched yours. 

“Aye!” A crash came through the doorway. 

Tommy jerked back, taking his hand and all your thoughts with him. You stared at him with an open mouth, chest moving wildly up and down, and then turned to the man who ruined your fucking moment. Arthur Shelby. 

“What in the hell do ya’ two think your doin’? ‘Specially you, Y/N. Why the fuck are ya startin’ fights in my pub?” Arthur asked, his hands resting on his hips. 

“I didn’t start shit, Arthur. Maybe make sure you don’t let fuckin’ creeps in the door and I wouldn’t have to teach these men a thing or two!” You shouted, mad at Arthur for many reasons. 

One, how dare he come in here and start talking at you, not even asking if you’re okay? Two, He just ruined the best fucking moment you’d had in five long, miserable, dry years. 

“Oi, Arthur, you could at least ask her if she's okay,” Tommy remarked, turning his attention towards you again. 

You stared at the two brothers, feeling the slightest bit unhinged. You had yelled at Arthur when he was acting like a reasonable buisness man, of course he’d want to know why there had been a knife fight in his pub. However, would it have fuckin’ killed him to wait five more seconds before he came barging in? 

“Arthur, I’ll go over all the details tomorrow,” Tommy spoke again, “For now, lets get Y/N back to Watery Lane. I’m sure news has spread and Ada and Pol will skin me if I don’t let them see her in one piece before I take her home.” 

The three of you headed outside, loading up into the Shelby car. You sat in the back, with Tommy driving and Arthur in the passenger seat. There was no conversation made on the way back to the Shelby home, only silence. You watched as buildings passed out of the window, wondering what was going to come of you and Tommy now? There had been such a buildup, and obviously he felt some kind of way about you, right? 

Once the three of you made it to Watery Lane, it was absolutely pouring outside. A thunderstorm had come from seemingly nowhere, lighting the sky up in streaks of white-purple light every few seconds. The rain fell heavily against the roof and windows of the car, and Tommy offered you his jacket as a cover for your head. You accepted his offering, and the lot of you scurried as fast as you could into the foyer of the home. 

“Y/N, I don’t think I’ll be able to take you home tonight, Love. Are you comfortable staying here?” Tommy asked, now that Arthur had wandered off deeper into the house. 

“Of course, Tommy. It won’t be the first time I’ve slept here. But is there room for me?” You questioned, realizing that either everyone was home (for once), meaning all rooms were occupied. 

“Don’t worry about that, we’ll find you a good place to sleep.” He said, a sly smile coming across his face. 

After explaining the whole situation to Polly and Ada, you were beyond tired. It was well past midnight at this point, and you could barely hold your eyes open. Tommy seemed to take notice, and bid the two other women goodnight for the both of you. He took your hand and lead you up the stairs to his room. 

“You can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in, okay, Love? I’m going to go to the bathroom to change, just open the door when it’s safe for me to come back in.” He said, handing you a folded up shirt and pair of boxers. 

You quickly stripped off the wet clothes, hanging them to dry in his closet. You ran your fingers through your damp hair, trying your best to smooth it out from the rough night you’d had. You cracked open the door of Tommy’s room, and saw him standing in the hallway, gazing at the door. Once he snapped out of his trance, he came into his room and shut his door behind him. 

“You look good in my clothes, Y/N.” He whispered, barely loud enough to be heard. 

You felt your cheeks blush at his comment. You saw him walk behind you, and then heard the creaking of bed springs. 

“Where am I going to sleep, Thomas?” You asked, not understanding why he was getting into bed when the situation hadn’t been resolved. 

“Right ‘ere, Love,” he patted the other side of his bed, “I don’t bite, I promise.” He smiled. 

You gave him a hesitant look before climbing into his bed, suddenly feeling relaxed by his smell. His presence was all around you. You could smell him on the sheets, you could hear his breathing behind you as you lay on your side, and then, you could feel his arm around your waist as he pulled your back flush to his warm, bare chest. 

“Goodnight, Y/N. Sleep well, Love.” Tommy whispered, still holding his grip on you. 

“Goodnight, Tommy.” 

[syntheticavenger]

Kill and Run - One

1/2 or maybe 1/3. Who knows. At least one more part for sure.

Soft Dark! TASM! Peter Parker x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Hints of period racism (1920s) and lots of classism. Language but barely, stalking. World building but we ramp up fairly quickly if you read between the lines.

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary | High society knows no bounds, the lavish lifestyles outside of your reach and only in your dreams. A chance meeting with a needy socialite provides an opportunity to pull yourself out of the throes of poverty - but at a cost.

It needs to look perfect.

No.

It has to be perfect.

Within the confines of the small dress shop that you’ve called both a home and a school at one point, the incoming storm of one Hazel Grace Keyworth leaves little time for mistakes when it comes to designing the perfect dress. Your mother, deep in the throes of her stress, has given you the task of finalizing the details of this particular dress that Hazel has been searching high and low for.

Even when it meant stepping foot into a part of town that she’d never ventured into before. You remember how she wrinkled her nose when she opened the door to the shop, your mother caught off guard by the way she had stood over her, immediately launching into her order before your mother could even begin to write it down. You’d been finishing up adding pearls onto a hat, inspecting your work when she’d called for you to help translate what the woman was trying to say.

“Do you speak English?” the young woman had demanded, placing her hands on her hips. “I understand I talk too fast but really, what I need is someone to listen to what I need and tell me if you can do it or not.”

“What are you looking for?” you inquired, urging your mother to go the back.

“There is a charity event I cannot miss. A girl needs a new gown and she needs it in the next two weeks. I want silk charmeuse, pearls, something shimmering,” she’d continued, your head nodding before she scoffed. “Well? Aren’t you going to write this down or can you remember it all?”

“I have a good memory,” you answered, the woman huffing in response.

“Well, good. I’ve come so far, you know. This part of town is… off limits for a woman like me. So I’ll need to be measured. Two days from now in the afternoon.”

“That’s fine,” you’d responded. “Two days’ time.”

She’d looked you up and down, eyeing the hem of your skirt.

“Is that your mother’s work?”

“My own.”

Raising a thin eyebrow, she’d nodded.

“I’ll pay you double if you both finish the dress. But I need it done. Understand?”

The dress has taken over one hundred hours to sew, right down to the hand sown pearls in the back. When she’d first seen the dress and tried it on, she belittled your mother for not seeing her vision of what she wanted.

You’d stepped in, placing yourself between your brow beaten mother and the woman with the endless number of demands.

“We will finish your dress,” you’d instructed. “But you pay us half first.”

The money is folded carefully inside a coffee tin, upstairs with your mother while you rub your eyes. It’s nearly complete, the last of the sash still needing to be sewn in. Shaking away the dull ache in your fingers, there isn’t much time to take a break, but you do it anyway, going into the small kitchen to place the kettle on the stove.

Deep down, this is good for the shop. If the dress is well received, people will want more. The amount of money that was paid up front means rent will be paid for at least two more months. Hovering between the line of poverty and barely making it, the tightrope that you and your parents have found yourself walking has meant that the slightest inconvenience could cost you the very thing your parents had strived for.

There isn’t a place for someone like your family in this society. On the other side of the street, they drink champagne like water, eat caviar like bread and swath themselves in the finest fabrics when you’re lucky to find a good coat. As much as your neighbors around you are filled with anger and envy at the upper class, there’s nothing you find more appealing than to be invisible. On the other side of the street, there is community. A family beyond surnames that understand what it means to make a meal that will last for several days, to commiserating about prices for things that you used to be able to afford.

An invisible link to shared humanity.

Hazel Grace Keyworth would never know the difference of need versus want.

-

It’s far too early to discuss Uncle Ben’s death but per usual, Aunt Maybelle – affectionately known as Aunt May – brings up the topic of conversation during breakfast.

“Your Uncle Ben used to say -”

“With great power comes great responsibility,” Peter replies. “I know, Aunt May. You’ve been reciting this since before he died.”

“Because of its importance. I’m not going to live forever, Peter. This estate falls to you in the event that something happens to me. I’d like to know that you would be well taken care of.”

“You take care of me just fine, Aunt May.” Peter pours the syrup over his wheat pancakes, shooing away the butler who comes to assist him. “So do the others when they’re not hovering.”

“Then you know that this charity ball means a great deal to me. It’s a chance for you to get to know Uncle Ben’s associates and perhaps meet a young woman. As you know, Miss Keyworth -”

Peter’s eyes roll at the mention, Aunt May narrowing her eyes at her nephew.

“God, not Hazel again. You’ve been pressing this match for months. It won’t happen, I promise you that.”

“You need to think about your future. You are the only Parker left. You carry the family name and with it, the Parker inheritance. It’s time to stop acting like a boy and become a man,” Aunt May orders, her voice immediately falling when she realizes she is nearly shouting. 

Smoothing out her napkin that is on her lap, she clears her throat.

“Hazel will be staying with us,” Aunt May continues. “Her family has come down with the flu and I’ve graciously opened our home to her so that she doesn’t miss the charity ball.”

Peter takes a sip of his coffee, ignoring May while he picks up a newspaper.

“Did you hear me?”

“Is this your way of forcing an engagement? You can sell whatever story you want but Hazel Keyworth is boring. A glass of water is more stimulating than her,” Peter says behind the paper. “I’d be dead from boredom before I ever made it down the aisle. I appreciate you thinking of me and my future, Aunt May.”

The sound of a fork clattering onto a plate is the only sound he hears before the hard squeak of the chair, heels tapping that get closer before the paper is yanked from his hands.

“You don’t think I know what you and your friends do? The debauchery? The drinking? You just haven’t gotten caught, Peter but oh, I know. I can smell it on you,” Aunt May snarls, throwing the newspaper on the ground. “And you’ll throw it away, won’t you? Knock up one of those girls on Pine Street? Throw away our fortune to hide a bastard child? Not on my watch, Peter Parker. Your friends may dally with gigolos, harlots and whoever the hell else but we are different. Do you understand that? I will sooner strip you of your name before you -”

Peter pushes his chair back, Aunt May going silent. Leaning his hands on the table, he turns his head toward her.

“You’ll strip me of my name? What authority do you have, Aunt Maybelle? Lest you forget, everything is mine. You’re a figurehead, so to speak, a title in name only. What I do on my own time, away from this estate, is my business! What my friends do is none of your concern. I’ll allow Miss Keyworth to stay here but she is on borrowed time, I promise you that.”

He moves away from her, Aunt May closing her eyes in irritation, lifting up her chin when the door slams behind him.

-

The dress is heavy in your arms in a thick bag, you step onto the curb carefully, a palatial estate looming in front of you. The shiny metal gates look like pure silver, the lawn carefully manicured. The house itself looks larger than anything you’ve ever seen before in your life, finding yourself counting the multitude of windows that you can see.

A seagull cries overhead, the salty sea breeze blowing gently that gently swirls around your skirt. It’s the final fitting, your sewing bag over your shoulder in case Hazel has any last minute demands.

She’d been pleased with your work, eyeing the beading carefully while she moved around the room with a mirror, remarking to herself just how perfect the dress was. You’re supposed to receive the final payment for the dress today, your stomach in knots at the sight of the guard that comes toward you. This isn’t her address. She’d written it down in a rush on a piece of ripped brown paper bag, telling you she would be visiting a dear friend and to deliver the dress to this address, no name given.

“May I help you?” the guard asks, his tone full of suspicion.

You have no time for class wars, especially when you are aware of the stares you receive. This part of the world you have no business in, let alone even on the same street.

“I’m delivering a dress to a Miss Keyworth,” you respond, cheerfulness forced through your tone.

The man brightens at your explanation, giving you a nod.

“I’ll take it.”

You don’t move, clutching the dress to your chest.

“I was told she needed one final fitting.”

The man narrows his eyes, opening the gate.

“I’ll take you through the back,” he directs.

As humiliating as it is, swallowing your pride means you can get the rest of the money that is owed and never step foot back onto this side of town ever again. Climbing the steps behind the estate, you’re aware of what entrance it’s for – a cook holds open the door for you, inspecting you for a moment until the guard motions you forward.

“Up the stairs, to the left and you’ll see a set of stairs. Up and to the right, first door. Understood? You exit out the back, as well.”

Your face burns with anger and humiliation, moving you to almost want to say something. Your lips are sealed shut, however, knowing there is a price that you’ll pay that is much more than the cost of the dress.

With every step forward, music gets louder, jazz music flowing from a room ahead.

Adjusting the dress in your arms, your hand can barely reach out to knock on the door, your sewing bag slipping down your shoulder before it’s picked up gently, a hand lifting it to place it back on your shoulder.

Looking up, your eyes lock with a pair of brown eyes, stepping back when the door opens, Hazel’s gaze going to the man standing behind you. He’s tall, towering over you, his lanky frame well dressed in a pair of black trousers and a white starched shirt.

“Peter,” Hazel says breathlessly, a wide smile appearing on her face. “Maybelle told me you’d be out golfing.”

“Changed my mind,” he says, raising an eyebrow at you. “Who is this?”

It’s rude not to introduce yourself but you’re not the least surprised at how he looked at you once and now doesn’t give you a second thought. They all do it. Invisibility used to hurt but you’ve grown accustomed to it.

“Just a seamstress,” Hazel supplies, motioning for you to come inside. “Final touches for my gown for the charity ball.”

“Does this seamstress have a name or did you suddenly forget your manners?” the man inquires to Hazel.

Her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment, murmuring your name quickly. The man extends his hand to you, your fingers outstretched to follow suit before he leans in, his hand pressing into yours.

“Peter Parker,” he introduces. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“We don’t have much time,” Hazel interrupts. “Excuse us, Peter.”

Yanking you into the room, she shuts the door, leaning against it for a moment. Her fingers touch her temples, her nostrils flaring slightly before she finally relaxes, moving away from you.

“What took you so long?” Hazel demands, tossing her honeyed blond hair off of her shoulder. “I’ve been waiting for an hour.”

“The trolley doesn’t come this far. I had to walk most of the way,” you answer her, handing her the dress bag. “I’ll do my final touches and be done.”

“Good,” Hazel murmurs, placing the bag on a hook on the wall. “Because this needs to be perfect and I still have to find the perfect shoes. Ugh, this is going to take up my entire day.”

She stomps her foot in frustration, reaching for the zipper. Yanking it down, you hear her breathy little gasp, her hands gingerly pulling it off the hanger.

“Oh my god, it’s perfect,” Hazel purrs, holding it to her chest. “Help me get it on.”

Never a please.

Never an ask.

Always a demand.

Hazel slips out of her dress quickly, down to her slip and you’re envious for a moment, her milky white skin a contrast of your own before you snap out of it, helping her into her dress. 

Self-loathing will not keep you warm at night, nor keep your thoughts clear. Fastening the buttons, you’re aware of how she sees herself, her head lifting proudly at the sight when you step back.

“It’s beautiful! This dress is going to get me Peter Parker,” Hazel says to the mirror, smoothing down the bodice of the dress. “He wants to play hard to get, I’ll show him.”

There’s nothing more you can do but stare, looking at the cut of the dress and to see if there are any more imperfections. Hazel looks at you by way of the mirror.

“Are you finished?” she asks haughtily. “The dress is fine. I don’t requirement any adjustments.”

“Okay,” you agree, shifting your bag over your shoulder once more. “Then I’ll take the last payment and leave.”

“Last payment?” Hazel repeats. “I paid you once already.”

“Half,” you correct. “Half because it was a rushed order and the other half when it was completed.”

You aren’t going to back down. Not when you’re so close to paying up to another two months of rent on the shop. Saving money has been better now that your older brother has been sending what he can from his new job in California but an agreement, even one done verbally, is one that you will make sure she honors.

“This is my livelihood we are talking about,” Hazel mutters, grabbing her purse. “I came to you in my time of need and you double the price on -”

“I never doubled the price. It’s been the same since you set foot inside my mother’s dress shop. Over one hundred hours of labor on this dress. Our time is worth the money. You said it yourself that the dress was beautiful,” you remind her, her mouth open in shock.

Hazel shoves the other half of her payment into your hand.

“There. You have your money, so leave.”

Without another word, you’re happy to exit, Hazel busily brushing her hair while she hums, as if she hadn’t ordered you out.

Opening the door gives you clarity, a promise that you won’t ever take on a task for someone like her again. Stuffing the money into your bag, you’re keenly aware of how you should exit, heading toward the stairs when you see Peter coming up the stairs, pausing at the top.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, you head nodding once. Holding your tongue means that you’ll get out of this place quickly, without interrogation.

“You know, it’s been a while since my Aunt May had anything specifically tailored for her. These new sizes, all the rage, you know? Department stores, everyone wanting the same luxury attire,” Peter continues, not moving from where he is standing. “But I find it more appealing when clothing can be tailored specifically for the person. There’s a certain care when one makes an item of clothing that fits the wearer. I must inquire if you’d do that for my Aunt May.”

Before you can even say another word, Peter holds up a finger for your silence.

“We’ll discuss it later. You look like you’re in a hurry. We’ll be in touch,” he concludes, stepping out of the way while you pass, giving him a short nod.

When you’re halfway down the stairs, he calls your name, your footsteps pausing while you wait for him to continue.

“It will be my pleasure to do business with you.”

-

“The answer is no,” your mother replies wearily, wiping the perspiration from her face with a cloth. “No more of them. Ungrateful and rude. Money can never buy class or manners.”

You agree, though in the pit of your stomach, you have a feeling that no isn’t a word that Peter Parker or any of his ilk would take kindly to. In fact, you aren’t so certain that he’s ever been denied a single thing in his life. His offer, spoken on the stairs, now seems like a threat when your mind wanders.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you remind your mother, fishing out the money from your purse. “We’re going to be okay.”

She tuts, counting out the money with a gasp and a sly smile.

“This is more than what I’d ask for,” your mother says in a hushed tone.

“Over a week of work, non-stop. Our time is valuable, Mama. We have to start realizing our worth. People will pay for good work.”

Your mother nods, giving you a soft smile.

“Good work,” she repeats in her native tongue. “We will make it after all.”

-

“Beautiful dress, Miss Keyworth,” Maybelle compliments, Hazel gingerly touching her earrings while the car pulls away from the curb. “All dressed up for someone special, I see.”

With a nervous smile, Hazel can only nod, the perspiration beginning to set on her skin. 

“I hope so,” Hazel answers, settling back into her seat.

“You are his future,” Aunt May responds. “If that is what you want, you will have it, Miss Keyworth.”

“Peter is a wonderful gentleman. I am sure that there are many women he has his eye on and I would only be so lucky to be considered to -”

“Only so lucky,” Aunt May chuffs with a shake of her head. “I wield the power in this household. You’ll do the same once you realize the hand you’ve been dealt. This was no accident, girl. There is so much potential in you, so much your parents haven’t invested in for your future.”

Hazel says nothing, Aunt May taking her silence as a means of continuing on her tirade.

“These lies your mother tells,” she sighs. “The amount of scandal it would cause if our circle knew your father was broke. The shame of it all would bring him to his knees if they all found out.”

“He is repaying his debts,” Hazel answers softly. “Mother has said he’s gotten much better with his gambling.”

“Is that so? That dress that suits you so well… where do you think the money came from for you to buy such a stunning gown? Certainly not from your father.”

Swallowing down the shame, Hazel hangs her head, Aunt May patting her hand.

“Think of it as a loan,” Aunt May says with a wave of her hand. “If it means you’ll turn a few heads then it is worth it to pretend. You’ll have plenty of time to daydream after you focus on finding a husband. If it’s Peter, even better. Think of the gowns you’ll be able to have once you have the means to buy them without haggling with a near destitute dressmaker?”

Aunt May’s face lights up when she sees the gates opening.

“Chin up. You’re about to head into the lion’s den. Stay focused.” 

-

Clutching the bag carefully to your chest, Mr. Singer waves a goodbye.

“You get home safe, now,” he warns. “Once it gets dark, the boys from uptown will come down and cause trouble. Happens after time they have that hoity toity dance, comin’ down here like they own the place. Don’t get caught up in all of that, you hear me?”

“Will do, Mr. Singer.”

It’s a short walk to get home, the sun beginning to set. Your mother has been hard at work with sketching out her new designs and utilizing her time experimenting with various fabrics for a new dress idea.

Despite thinking about what you will make for dinner, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being followed, even when a quick glance at the nearly empty street gives you no indication that you have any set of eyes on you.

Nearly about to round the corner, your footsteps stop when you see him in the corner of your eye.

Peter Parker, dressed to the nines in a tuxedo, out of place in the wrong side of town. It doesn’t feel real to see him motioning to his driver to stay put on , the nervousness on the chauffeur’s face before he relaxes into a stone-faced stare in your direction.

“Couldn’t help but see if my favorite tailor was available for an appointment and then it hit me,” Peter pauses, watching you shift your groceries in your hands. “I never got your address.”

“Of the shop?”

Peter cocks his head to the side, his smile slightly cold.

“Of course,” he agrees. “Where else do you think I meant?”

“We’re closed today. We open tomorrow.”

“Of course. Even God rests.”

Unsure of what to say next, he motions to his car with his head.

“Let me at least offer you a ride home.”

“I can walk,” you respond gently, trying to sidestep him to continue on.

“I insist,” Peter says, lifting the heavy bag from your arms. “Not the best neighborhood around. It’s the least I can do. Please.”

His polite plea at the end of his offer doesn’t sweeten the feeling in your gut, the urge to deny him and keep walking is strong, especially the way you can see his mouth turn upward in disgust when two teenage boys walk past, giving him a look and down before they continue on.

“Let’s get you home,” he says. “I’m sure your mother is wondering where you are.”

Your head snaps up at attention at the mention of your mother.

“You know my mother?”

“Doesn’t everyone have a mother?” Peter asks innocently, nodding when you start to follow him.

[abiiors]

matty singing gf to sleep <33

When I tell you I was going to put cockwarming into this… 

Unfortunately, I am shit at writing smut so this will have to stay fluff only.

I Like It When You Sleep

He carefully closes the door behind him and locks it, then sighs when he sees the time. 

2 am. 

He knows you’re a light sleeper and he has to be as quiet as a mouse, he knows you must have gone to bed a long time ago. So he quietly places his stuff in the living room and tiptoes to your bedroom. 

He stops at the threshold and watches as the moonlight streams in and illuminates your side profile. He watches the way your hair fans out on the pillow but one strand remains stubbornly stuck to your cheek. He watches the rise and fall of your chest and tries not to linger too much on your curves. 

It’s a warm night and the sheets are already bunched around your hips. Your tank top has ridden up to expose a sliver of your stomach and he has to resist the urge to trace his fingers over every inch of it. 

Quietly he takes a step forward. If he can only stroke your cheek once, he’ll make do with it…

Pain shoots up his foot and a loud, involuntary string of curses leaves his mouth. He slaps a hand over his mouth and winces slightly but it’s too late. You’re already stirring. 

‘Are you okay?’ you mumble into the pillow.

‘Yea, yea,’ he whispers hurriedly, ‘just stubbed my toe. Go back to bed!’

You, however, pick up your phone to look at the time.

2:09 am

‘Are you just coming home?’ you crack an eye open to look at him. 

‘Um,’ he smiles guiltily, ‘yeah, just.’

He walks over to you and sits on the edge of the bed. He lets you wrap your arms around his waist and place your head on his lap. 

‘You must be tired,’ you mumble into his stomach. 

‘I’ve had a bit too much coffee,’ he confesses, running his fingers through your hair. He finally smiles when he brushes away that strand on your cheek.

‘Let me get ready for bed, okay?’ he asks and silently pleads for this moment to last a bit longer. 

But it never lasts as long as he wants it to. You pull away with great effort and snuggle into the pillows once again. 

He’s the one who has to wait a minute longer before he can actually start undressing himself. 

The night is warm so he forgoes the t-shirt. He just lets his boxers rest low on his hips and gets into bed next to you. He pulls you close, murmurs a good night in your hair. 

He closes his eyes and waits for that familiar feeling of heaviness to settle over his limbs but it doesn’t work. Maybe he did consume a bit too much coffee or maybe it’s because he can feel you restlessly twisting and turning.  

‘Love…’ he sighs, ‘can you not sleep?’

He feels a bit guilty when you shake your head and pull closer to him.  

‘Will you sing to me?’ you ask and he almost doesn’t hear it because of how muffled your voice is. 

‘I mean, you don’t have to,’ you amend quickly when he doesn’t respond. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to ramble further, instead, he takes a deep breath and starts humming a new tune. 

There are words sprinkled in there every once in a while but they are unfinished and they don’t always rhyme. He hopes you don’t remember this moment by morning because this is a new song he’s been working on and he wants it to be a surprise for when he’s finally finished with it. 

He gently lets his nails scratch your scalp and smiles as you shiver in delight. All the while he continues singing; some of his own, some of others. Wherever he can, he substitutes your name with the one in the lyrics. And although he’s fairly sure you can’t hear him right now, he knows it’s something you love during the waking hours. 

Once your breathing evens out again, he feels himself getting sleepier. The singing has finally used up all his excess energy and now he just wants to fall asleep with you in his arms. 

If he's lucky he'll get more than five hours of sleep but he doesn't fret much over it. He knows he's lucky in that no matter how little sleep he gets, he gets to wake up next to you.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Ship of Dreams

----

“You know - they say this ship can’t sink, it was all in the papers, impossible - they said.”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve heard,” Roman shrugged, shifting just a little closer. He wished he could wrap his arms around him, press kisses to his cheeks - pink with the cold - but they couldn’t, not in public. Roman hoped that was something that would change one day.

“If… if she did sink - what would we do?” Virgil asked, eyes still trained on the frothing wake the ship left in its path.

“Why, I’d swim us to America, of course, I promise,” Roman said, reaching over to brush his fingers over Virgil’s jaw, so he’d look over at him, “But she won’t sink, don’t worry so much my darling.”

----

| Ao3 |

Warnings: Major Character Death, Minor character deat Drowning, panic, hypothermia. Vampire bites. Implied/referenced homophobia. Technically self harm., Vomit

Pairings: Prinxiety

Word Count: 4646

Notes: puhleasseeee read the warnings on this one <3

Hi all this is NOT my usual kind of fic and this one's gonna need some context AND some warnings.

So this is a fic I wrote for a RP au I'm doing on discord, which is why it may seem like it's lacking context. To add some basic needed context: Roman is an immortal vampire, Virgil is his boyfriend/lover - at the point of the fic they've been together about five and a bit years. This fic details how Virgil dies, and is a major point in his backstory for the RP. Everything else should be obvious in the fic <3

----

Roman had hardly ever seen Virgil so excited as he ran into his arms, waving the pair of tickets he had just bought in his hand. Having fairly rich parents did come with perks, after all, and Virgil had finally managed to convince them to send over the money they’d need to go to America. Roman could have paid for them himself, but Virgil had wanted to do this one himself - and second class tickets were incredibly expensive, not even thinking about first. They were lucky Virgil’s parents had agreed to let him move further away - they already weren’t too happy about him living in England, let alone America. 

Still, he was pulled into a tight hug, Virgil’s warm hand pressed into the small of his back and the other resting on his hip. Never would he get used to the warmth of human touch. Virgil pressed his lips to the shell of Roman’s ear and then yelped indignantly as Roman picked him up to spin them around with a cheer of celebration.

“I can’t wait to show you America,” Roman said once he’d set Virgil back on his feet, a grin broke out on his face. 

“I still want to see these apparent secret tunnels of yours,” Virgil said, pinching his arm playfully, Roman yelped when he did, as if it hurt when he had barely felt it at all, “Need to see what you’re constantly raving about.”

“There are secret tunnels! I had them built myself!” Roman cried indignantly, Virgil had never believed him about his secret rooms and tunnels in his mansion back in America, Roman couldn’t wait to show him. 

“Well I’d like to see them,” He huffed, “I won’t believe you until I do.” 

“A week, my Stormcloud,” Roman said, meeting Virgil’s eyes with a bright smile, “A week, and I’ll be able to show you all you’ve ever wanted to see.”

Virgil punched him in the arm, “You’re such a sap.”

—-

“Isn’t she huge ?” Roman said, looking up at the ship they were to be sailing on. It was a warm day, sunny and midmorning. The ship itself was to sail at noon, but Virgil had always been nervous about timings, so they were here just a little bit early - almost ten am. Virgil yanked Roman’s hat over his face and huffed whilst he flailed and cried out indignantly.

“That’s why she’s called ‘Titanic’,” Virgil said, rolling his eyes, only making Roman laugh 

“I knew that, you fusspot, come on.”

“No you come on, slowpoke,” Virgil said, whacking Roman in the arm before running off towards the ship. Running after him, Roman cried out with a laugh, weaving between people whilst keeping a hand on his hat. He knew that the people around must think him insane, but he didn’t care much when he finally found Virgil waiting for him near the second class gangway - he was fairly certain that the only reason he’d stopped was the fact that Roman needed the ticket he carried to follow him onto the ship itself. The guard checked their tickets - Roman Prince and Virgil Garcia - and handed them back to Virgil, who stepped up onto the gangway and stopped, leaning back to offer Roman a hand, smiling brightly. 

For a moment, Roman was stopped dead in awe at how beautiful his partner looked, the cool wind whipping his dark hair around his face and his eyes lit up with a smile as he shook his hand, waiting for Roman to take it. Quickly he snapped out of it, reaching for Virgil’s hand and letting himself be led onto the Ship of Dreams. 

Their rooms were lovely. Far better than they had expected with carpeted floors and mahogany furniture. Roman had honestly expected worse - though everyone had been saying that this ship was ahead of her time. According to the newspapers the ship’s facilities were more lavish and comfortable than any other for all classes, but he still hadn’t expected this.

“You want top bunk?” Virgil asked, already putting his bags up there - he already knew what Roman’s answer would be before he asked the question.

“I want to cuddle with you,” He said with a pout, making Virgil laugh.

Gesturing to the bed, Virgil shrugged, “It’ll be tight.”

“I know you don’t care about that,” Roman rolled his eyes, “You’d be happy if I had to lie on top of you.”

Virgil shrugged, “You got me.”

Rolling his eyes, Roman put his own bag on the top bunk with Virgil’s, glancing around, “You know - since we’re here early…”

“That’s your plotting tone, you’re plotting something,” Virgil said, crossing his arms.

“Well… we arrived so early, and there aren’t many people here yet… why don’t we go explore instead of hiding in here?”

With a small frown on his face, Virgil looked Roman over, he was still wearing a cloak and his hat, but… “...Are you sure the sun won’t bother you?”

“Such a worrywort,” Roman shakes his head grimly, “I’ll be fine, dearest, come on - I want to see what they’re hiding from us in first class.”

“Princey!” Virgil hissed as Roman stood up, grabbing his hand and pulling him along, “We can’t go there!”

Roman turned back to him with a smile, “Hey, they’re not here yet! It’s barely even ten and the trains haven’t arrived, why don’t we have a bit of fun, right?”

Shaking his head, Virgil made his way after Roman to explore the first class areas whilst they could. 

—-

“This place is plain awful,” Virgil mumbled as they looked over the second class dining room. It was already nearly full of people gathering for dinner and crowded, neither of them were a fan of crowded spaces for their own reasons. Roman winced.

“What’s the chance they’d let you take a plate and go?” He asked, tilting his head, Virgil grumbled something unintelligible before grabbing Roman’s wrist and leading him to an emptier spot on one of the large, long tables and sitting down. Roman sighed and sat next to him, hooking his foot over Virgil’s for reassurance. When they were approached by a waiter, Roman declined anything and Virgil ordered and scoffed his food as fast as he could so they could get out of there. 

The walk back to their stateroom down on E deck (so many stairs, Roman had offered to carry Virgil down them, he’d refused) felt like an age. When they had finally gotten there, Virgil gently pushed him down onto the sofa in their room, taking his own seat sideways in his lap, and pulling his hair back. 

“Your turn,” He said, leaning back against him. Roman frowned. 

“Virgil, love-” Roman started, before Virgil cut him off. 

“You’re gonna protest because you do this every time but you haven’t drank anything in three days, Princey,” Virgil said, leaning over to pull him into a kiss, “And I don’t want you to be hungry whilst we’re tryna have fun, got it?”

Roman sighed, carefully brushing Virgil’s hair back and pulling his jacket down so it sat around his waist instead. Virgil immediately relaxed into him as his lips barely brushed over his neck. 

“I don’t like doing this,” Roman said softly, Virgil shivered at the cool brush of his lips. 

“I know,” Virgil said, reaching around him to start untying his hair, “I wish there was a better way for you to get what you need.”

Really, in Roman’s mind, he didn’t have much hope for something like that. He was scared he would have to keep doing this forever, and after Virgil…. Without Virgil he would have to go back to hunting.

Taking a deep breath, just the way Virgil had taught him, he nodded, “That would be nice, for now I’m… grateful that you let me have you.”

“Well I’m grateful that you can do it for me,” Virgil said, gently patting Roman’s chest, “You know I need the relaxation sometimes.”

“You’re going to get addicted to my venom at some point and then neither of us will be happy,” Roman pointed out, giving him a little nudge. Virgil huffed.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Who knows?”

“Just shut up and bite me, Princey.”

—-

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Roman said, tone a little wistful as he leant on the railing, leaning over just a little to look at the ship’s wake. It still amazed him how such a heavy thing was able to stay afloat, let alone move so quickly. 

Leaning on the railing with him, just a little ways away, Virgil hummed. His hair blew back with a particularly strong gust of wind that had his jacket billowing around his legs and Roman laughed.

“A little cold though, hm?”

“Just a bit,” Virgil grumbled. Crossing his arms on the railing and looking down at the water, “You know - they say this ship can’t sink, it was all in the papers, impossible - they said.”

“Yes, that’s what I’ve heard,” Roman shrugged, shifting just a little closer. He wished he could wrap his arms around him, press kisses to his cheeks - pink with the cold - but they couldn’t, not in public. Roman hoped that was something that would change one day. 

“If… if she did sink - what would we do?” Virgil asked, eyes still trained on the frothing wake the ship left in its path.

 “Why, I’d swim us to America, of course, I promise I’d still get us there,” Roman said, reaching over to brush his fingers over Virgil’s jaw, so he’d look over at him, “But she won’t sink, don’t worry so much my darling.”

“Mm…” Virgil hummed, looking back at the water, “It’s a little scary, isn’t it? I mean - I know we’ve both done it before, but… leaving everything we know? Isn’t that terrifying?”

“A little,” Roman agreed, “I like to think of it more as an adventure - it helps with the nerves.”

He had been on so many adventures in his time, moving all over England, visiting Spain, going to America. Virgil had only ever travelled from his home in Spain to England, it was still a terrifying journey - especially for Virgil, who worried too much about such little things. 

“You look lovely in this light,” Roman says, glancing towards the sun where it slowly approached the horizon, “I’d love to paint you in it.”

He made a wide gesture and when his hand left the railing, his glove clung to the metal.

They slept soundly together that night, curled up in each other’s arms. That would be the last time they would ever do so. 

—

The third day of their trip had started normally - aside from an odd ‘off’ feeling that Roman had quickly brushed off, not wanting to worry Virgil. They had gone about the day just like any other - Roman had wanted to see what the library on board had to offer (not much he hadn’t already read) but they had stayed in there half the morning until lunch, where they’d made their way towards the dining hall early in order to secure seats at the ends on the tables instead of being stuck between a bunch of strangers. 

As the sun began to set, the pair returned to the stern of the ship to once more watch the sea, the night was clear and crisp that night - with not a cloud in sight. 

“It’s getting dark,” Virgil commented as the sun slowly sank below the horizon.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Roman asked, tilting his head, it was definitely starting to get colder out here. 

Virgil’s gaze travelled from the horizon up to Roman’s face, and then beyond him to where the first stars were starting to peek through the sunset, “Would you like to stargaze?” He asked, “Maybe after dinner? It looks like the night’ll be clear enough.”

“You think so?” Roman asked, joining him in looking upwards. 

“Do you see a cloud up there?”

“I suppose not,” Roman chuckles, placing his hand on top of Virgil's on the railing, “Well now I’m excited to gaze at the stars with you, come - let’s have dinner quickly.”

An hour later when they returned to the deck it was fully dark, dark enough for Roman and Virgil to sneak up to the first class promenade on A-Deck where they could get a much better view without the ship’s smokestacks in the way. Luckily for them they weren’t noticed and found a cosy bench to curl up on. Roman let down his hair for Virgil to run his hands through as they watched the stars. 

At some point Virgil fell asleep whilst Roman talked mindlessly about the constellations - most of which he had made up. He had always found it more relaxing when Roman talked, the sound of his voice soothing him. For the few hours that Virgil slept, Roman held him, his cheek rested atop Virgil’s head as he continued to watch the stars above them and the dark sea ahead. It was peaceful at night, with barely even a breeze, though it was cold. 

By the time Virgil woke again, Roman thought it must have been some time past midnight, he wasn’t too sure, though Virgil was groggy and mumbling something about not knowing where they were. Roman told him that he’d fallen asleep. 

“Oh you must be freezing,” Virgil said softly, sitting up a little more and looking at him, “We’ve been out here for hours-”

“I’m fine, really,” Roman waved him off. Sure, it was cold, but Roman didn’t mind all that much. Huffing - clearly not accepting that answer - Virgil shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around Roman’s shoulders. A triumphant smile on his face when Roman practically melted into it. He stuck his tongue out in retaliation.

“Oh put that away,” Virgil said, obviously trying not to laugh as he sticks his tongue out at Roman too. 

“You hypocrite!” Roman cried, a hand to his heart with an offended gasp. Virgil turned away as he burst out laughing, giving Roman the chance to put on the jacket properly. 

Looking back at him, Virgil crossed his arms, “I’m not getting that back now until we go inside, am I?”

“Absolutely not,” Roman says, shaking his head solemnly. 

“Ro… oh shit! Ro - look at that,” Virgil said, grabbing Roman’s arm and pointing somewhere ahead of them. Roman’s eyes widened a little, “Is that an iceberg?”

“...I think so,” Roman nodded, frowning, an iceberg that they looked to be heading straight for, no less, “They’ve seen it - I can hear them - they’re turning the ship, it’s alright.”

“Oh, good,” Virgil says, leaning back into Roman’s side where they sat on the bench. 

It wasn’t alright. 

Virgil let out a short lived sigh of relief as the bow of the ship passed the iceberg ahead of them, before yelping in alarm when the whole ship creaked and screeched in protest and started to shudder and shake - grabbing onto Roman’s arm and staring up at where chunks of ice were breaking off of the berg and landing with a crash on the deck. Neither of them seemed to have words for a moment as they watched it pass. 

“I didn’t realise icebergs were so big…” Roman said softly - it was the only thing he could think of at the moment. He didn’t know what he should have expected from an iceberg - but it wasn’t something so huge and monstrous as that. 

Keeping tight hold of Roman’s arm, Virgil stood, Roman going with him so they wouldn’t have to separate. They made their way over to the edge of the ship. Roman put a careful hand on Virgil’s back as they leant over, trying to see what damage had been done.

“We can’t see from here,” Roman said, worry lacing his voice as Virgil turned back to look at him.

“What do we do?” He asks, “Do they know?”

“I’m sure they know,” Roman nodded, glancing around. A few more people had come up onto the deck now, looking around in confusion. The iceberg itself was already far in the distance when Roman felt the ship shudder to a halt beneath his feet, “Yeah, they know.”

Frowning, Virgil leant into Roman’s side, “How bad do you think it was?”

Roman stayed quiet and listened, though it was hard to hear into the wheelhouse with the people now on the deck murmuring and chattering quietly. Virgil waited patiently for an answer, and the answer Roman ended up with was not a good one. 

“She’s sinking,” Roman said, voice small, Virgil looked up at him in horror as Roman started to panic, “It’s bad - really bad -the iceberg tore up the side of the ship -”

Quickly, Virgil squeezed Roman’s arm, putting a hand on his face, “It’s okay, shh, breath Princey.”

“Virgil -”

“Roman,” Virgil told him, “It’ll be okay-”

“Virgil there’s not enough lifeboats,” Roman interrupted him, still listening to what the officers were whispering about above them, “Not everyone is going to be able to make it - not even half-”

Putting both hands on Roman’s cheeks now, Virgil gave him a gentle kiss, “It’s okay, Ro, they’ll get help - there's other ships, precautions and stuff -”

“How are you not panicking?” Roman asked, looking over at him, Virgil looked back.

“I am - I’m just - you’re panicking,” Virgil said, “So I have to stay calm - one of us does.”

“That’s not - it doesn’t work like that,” Roman shook his head.

“Would you rather I be panicking right now?”

“...No,”

“Then shush - and lets just - lets just figure out what to do.”

 —-

It was chaos. With Virgil clinging to Roman’s arm for dear life, Roman led them through the crowd from lifeboat to lifeboat, trying like many others to find one that would let them on. Women and children only, they all said, getting the men to stand back whilst women of all ages and children were piled onto the boats. Roman noticed one boat launched half full and almost shed a tear right then. Virgil helped a set of twins with curly red hair into the nearest lifeboat - they seemed to have lost their parents in the half-panicked crowd - he wasn’t allowed to follow them in. A surge of panic had overtaken him when Virgil had left his side and it never faded despite getting him back moments later.

They kept trying, the crowds grew more and more frantic, the number of people on the deck only grew despite more lifeboats being launched. Roman thought he might strangle the next officer who wouldn’t let Virgil on. 

That surge of panic from before had never quite left him, only grown stronger and stronger as time passed and people got more and more panicked around them too. The yelling was deafening, Virgil had covered his ears some time ago, flinching every time someone screamed or shouted too close. People pushed and shoved their way to the front, someone elbowed Virgil and Roman hissed viciously at the man - he didn’t care who he was. The poor guy had backed off, terrified, just like everyone else. 

The band was still playing. Virgil remarked on it bitterly as they passed the trio for the second time. “Music to drown by? Now I know we’re in first class.”

Roman couldn’t help how the remark had made him wince. First class, that’s who was up here. A few of the lucky second and third class who’d come up to investigate in the first place. Where were the hundreds of people who weren’t first class? How many people had been abandoned to die in the bowels of this ship?

Tilting, the ship was tilting. Walking down the deck to the last boat felt like walking down a muddy hill. They could see the water now, so much closer, at the bow of the ship - where they’d been sitting just two hours ago - water was almost rising over the railings now. 

There were no lifeboats left. 

They had tried desperately, checked everywhere, none. No boats were left, Roman could see them in the distance, sailing away. He could hear the screaming of a thousand people, left, waiting, scared, clinging to a sinking ship, hundreds of people left alone and scared to die. Virgil looked at Roman, eyes wide as water spilled onto the promenade they had snuck onto to explore just three days ago, the promenade on which they had sat to watch the stars. 

“What do we do?” He whispered. Roman choked back a sob, he didn’t have an answer. 

Still he dragged Virgil up the ship as it tilted, they followed the screaming crowd as they ran for the stern, no matter the hopelessness that was quickly filling his heart and spilling over into his head. Roman still held Virgil tightly as the ship tore itself in half, he still screamed with Virgil and everyone else as she crashed back into the water. Virgil was trembling, with cold or fear or both Roman didn’t know. 

“It’s going to be cold,” Roman said, Virgil was momentarily stripped of his panic to stare at him.

“Pretty redundant statement, Princey,” he gritted out as they clung to a metal fence, 

“You’ll have to hold your breath,” Roman said anyway, “And don’t let go of me - I’ll get us to the surface.”

Virgil didn’t bite back this time, the ship had started to go down again, they could feel it, the flip of their stomachs, like this was just a demented, awful, fairground ride. 

Just as Roman had said to, Virgil clung to him when they were sucked down by the water into the void the ship had left. Kicking for the surface, Roman pulled Virgil out of the water, where he spluttered and spat out salt water. People all around them were screaming and yelling, splashing in the water, he held Virgil close as everyone looked for something to cling to, anything to keep them afloat.

“They’ll come back,” Roman said to a violently shivering Virgil, with a death grip on the jacket he was still wearing, later he would wonder whether giving the jacket back could have saved him, he hadn’t thought of it before, “They’ll save you, they’ll save you.”

Both of them, somehow, knew it wasn’t true.

It got quiet, it got quiet too quickly.

“They’re dying,” Virgil whispered, his voice cracking and small. His breath fogged in front of him, Roman could see his lips were turning blue and saltwater turned to frost on his eyelashes, “I’m- I’m going to die, Roman, you have to-”

“No,” Roman shook his head violently, he too had frost on his lashes, in his hair, though it was shaken off. He couldn’t succumb to hypothermia, after all, “No you won’t, I won’t, they’ll come back, they have to.”

“Roman please,” Virgil whispered, “Please turn me.”

“Virgil,” He whispered, “I-”

“Do it, Roman, please,” He begged, his words stuttering and forced through his quickly slowing shivers. He didn’t have time, the lifeboats weren’t coming back, they wouldn’t make it.

He supposed swimming to America wasn’t so far-fetched an idea after all. 

“Okay,” he said, pained, but there was no choice, he would die otherwise, “Okay - okay.”

His fangs sank into Virgil’s neck, his skin was freezing, his blood felt like ice pouring down Roman’s throat, tears slipped down his cheeks only to freeze halfway there as Virgil fell limp in his arms. 

A sob ripped its way from his throat as he pulled away, leaving blood to trickle from the bite despite Virgil’s heart no longer beating. 

Through his tears he tore open his wrist with his own fang, holding the bleeding wound over his loves parted lips even as his skin knitted itself together again. He knew it was useless, he had been too late. 

It was far too late when a boat did come back. 

The death all around him had made Roman sick, he’d vomited at least once by now, lungs hurting though he didn’t need to breathe, heart heavy though it didn’t beat. He clung to Virgil’s lifeless body even as they tried to pull him aboard. 

Weakly he fought them, but even he was weak and tired from the water, sobs still wracked his body with every moment. Roman hadn’t cried this much since he was human. 

The officer had to break Virgil’s frozen fingers to loosen his grip on the jacket Roman still wore. His jacket, Virgil’s jacket, which he refused to let them take off of him in favour of dry blankets when they boarded the Carpathia even when they promised him he’d get it back. He’d screamed when they pulled Virgil’s corpse away from him, pulled him back when he’d tried to reach for him again, held him down as he cried out in anguish as his love sank under the water. 

They called him mad in whispers aboard the Carpathia, crew and passengers alike, when she arrived to save them, hours too late though she was the only one who had come. An officer was assigned to watch him after he had tried to throw himself overboard within hours, he had to get back to him, find him, he’d promised that they’d see America, he’d told him that he’d swim if he had to and if they let him he would. Virgil didn’t deserve to rot at the bottom of the Atlantic.

But Roman had been too weak for that, he was too weak to save him, too weak to go back to him, too weak to make good on any of his promises. All he could do was cling to the jacket he wore and the blanket they had given him. He sat so still and unmoving that they worried he was in shock, they’d sent for a doctor and Roman had pushed him away when he’d tried to diagnose him with hysteria. Still he cried but he didn’t scream, he didn’t try and throw himself over the railings again, they had moved too far for that now and Roman knew he wouldn’t make it. He knew he wasn’t strong enough anymore. 

The moment the statue of liberty passed over him was supposed to be a happy one, one he could share with the person he loved as they embarked on such a wondrous adventure. But it was only Roman who passed under that statue as rain poured down over them, it was only Roman who got to see her in her glory - even in the rain she was beautiful, he thought Virgil would’ve loved to see it. 

“Your name, sir?” An officer asked as he reached the gate, expression blank and eyes absent, hands shaking as they clenched the jacket that still smelled of saltwater and death. He looked up, finding himself unable to make eye contact with the man, though he had a kind face, a sympathetic look in his eyes. Roman couldn’t stand it, he didn’t need sympathy, he needed something no-one could give him back. 

“Roman,” He said, tone flat.

“And your surname>?” he prompted. Someone behind him in the line huffed in annoyance. Roman’s hand worried a frayed seam in the jacket - he would have to fix it when he got home, he couldn’t lose this too. The last thing Virgil had given to him. 

Not the last.

“Roman Garcia,” He said, trying to sound confident. The man nodded with a smile and wrote down his name before waving him off. 

Roman Prince had left England hand in hand with the person he loved, waving to no-one aboard the Ship of Dreams, full of hope and excited for the future - they both had been. 

Roman Garcia stepped onto the grounds of America alone, hand and heart equally empty, from a ship that had been the only one to answer their call for aid. A ship that had not been fast enough to save him.

----

Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

[subskz]

treat - h.js

note: this is a reupload from my old blog

content: sub jisung, dom reader, reader’s sex is unspecified, puppyplay, praise, footjob, edging, orgasm control, slight foodplay (?), a bit of aftercare

word count: 3.9k

“Jisung!” You called, pushing your apartment door open with your hip. You set down the grocery bags you’d been carrying with a heavy exhale, cursing yourself for being too stubborn to bring them up in more than one trip.

The boy in question raised his head from where he was lying on the couch. You softened as his cheerful face came into view. “You’re back!” He chirped, sitting up in his spot.

Jisung had stayed home while you’d gone out to buy some groceries, claiming that he had a lot of work to do. You were fairly certain that he’d just said that as an excuse to not change out of his pajamas, but you ultimately decided to leave him be anyway.

“Mhm, and I brought snacks!” You sang, swinging a plastic bag of goodies around.

Jisung’s eyes lit up, and he threw a hand over his heart. “Thank God,” He wailed dramatically. “I’ve been working so hard, I wasn’t sure how much longer I would last.”

His theatrics made you giggle, and you turned to unload the bags before he could see the fond look on your face. “What would you do without me, hm?” You hummed.

Jisung rested his head back against the arm of the sofa. “Don’t even wanna think about it.”

Once you’d finished putting everything away, you grabbed the bag that contained the various snacks and you made your way over to him. Jisung’s hair was tousled, sticking out cutely in all directions, and one of the sleeves of his hoodie was pulled up much higher than the other. He looked like a mess—adorably so.

“How are the lyrics coming along?” You asked, flopping down on the cushions next to him. Jisung turned his phone towards you, still open on his notes app. There were a few lines typed out, but other than that the screen was mostly blank.

You raised an eyebrow. “Working hard, huh?”

Your stern tone made him whine defensively. “Don’t scold me.” He pulled the hood of his sweater over his head. “It’s not easy.”

“I thought you were a genius, Han Jisung.”

“Not when my muse is gone,” He declared. “I miss you too much.”

You rolled your eyes at his attempt to appeal to you, trying your hardest to suppress a smile. “Genius and a sweet talker, lucky me.” You played along, digging among the snacks to pull out a bag of chips. Jisung peeked out from under the fabric of his hoodie, leaning forward eagerly when he noticed the brand—they were his favorite.

“Why don’t you recharge, yeah?” You suggested, popping open the bag. Jisung instantly scooted closer. You titled the chips in his direction, inviting him to help himself, but he made no move to take any.

You gave him a questioning look, and Jisung wordlessly pushed out his bottom lip into a pout, eyes pleading.

“Ah...you’re such a baby.” You huffed, realizing right away what he wanted.

Jisung simply smiled back, his lips curving inward cutely. Despite your complaint, you reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of chips. He opened wide as you dropped a few into his mouth, humming contentedly before he crunched down.

“These are the best.” He announced, cheeks full. “Even better when they’re fed to me.”

Jisung wiggled his eyebrows at you, and you clicked your tongue without any real annoyance behind it. “I think I’ve spoiled you too much.” You sighed.

Jisung settled himself into the back cushion of the couch, unlocking his phone again. “It’s more effective if I work this way.” He insisted. “And now that you’re here, I can focus properly.”

Though you knew he was purposely being over-the-top about his affections, your heart fluttered nonetheless. Jisung always seemed to have that effect on you. You got comfortable yourself, hand diving back into the bag to retrieve more chips. As Jisung began typing away at his phone, you leaned over to feed him some more.

He opened his mouth for you without taking his eyes off the screen, and you admired the serious look on his face as he brainstormed. Jisung’s lyrics always came to him either in sudden bursts, or over painfully long periods of time—there was no middle ground for him.

You continued passing chips to him periodically, taking some for yourself in between. As you watched the way he compliantly opened his mouth each time, a mischievous idea came to mind.

You grabbed two or three chips and brought your hand to Jisung’s face, just as you’d been doing. Naturally, he leaned towards you, parting his lips to take the snack into his mouth—but it never came. You pulled your hand away bit by bit the more he inched closer, a smile forming on your face as his lips kept missing his target.

It took a few moments for Jisung to register what was going on, and he finally tore his eyes away from his phone screen to give you a look of adorable confusion.

“No fair,” He whined, seeing the amusement written all over your face. “You’re teasing me while I’m in the zone.”

“I can’t help it. You’re so cute when you’re concentrating.” You giggled, pulling away just in time as Jisung stretched forward to snatch a chip with his mouth. He sat back with a defeated huff, and for good measure, you waved your hand around playfully in front of him.

“Say please,” You hummed.

Jisung’s eyes followed the path of your hand as you taunted him, his head tilting from side to side with each movement. Assuming that he was just playing along, your giggles turned into a full laugh. “You look like a puppy begging at the dinner table.”

The lighthearted atmosphere faltered a bit when Jisung didn’t respond. Instead, he kept watching your hand with wide eyes, almost as if he’d become locked in some kind of trance. His strange reaction caught you off guard, and you wondered with a start if you’d said something wrong.

“Jisung?” Your voice softened.

He blinked slowly a few times before responding. “Mm?” He cocked his head, grip on his phone loosening so that it toppled unceremoniously onto the couch cushion.

Growing worried, lowered your hand and carefully dropped the chips you’d been holding back into the bag. As expected, Jisung’s gaze—somehow wider and more awestruck than usual—followed you, locking on the chip bag.

His behavior had you taken aback, but you couldn’t help but consider an explanation that nagged at the back of your mind.

Jisung had shown small hints of this behavior before—going oddly quiet, watching you with wide, expectant eyes, and hanging on to your every word as if he were awaiting some kind of order. You were no stranger to the signs he was exhibiting, and after a handful of instances, the two of you had eventually sat down to have an only slightly awkward discussion about the premise of petplay.

Though you’d never quite tried it out together, Jisung had shyly admitted to you that it was something he would be very interested in. It may have been a stretch, but the sudden shift in his attitude led you to believe that maybe this was his way of initiating it.

Deciding to test the waters, you shook the chip bag a few times. “You want these, Sungie?” You asked tentatively, raising the pitch of your voice.

Jisung straightened up at your change in tone, licking his lips and beginning to squirm a bit in his spot. “If you want a treat, you’ve gotta show me that you’re a good puppy.” You continued carefully.

He nodded instantly, and you felt a tinge of relief, taking his reactiveness as a good sign. You pondered your next move before speaking up again, growing more firm with your words.

“A good puppy doesn’t sit on the couch without permission.” You frowned at him. Jisung scrambled to the floor in a matter of seconds, and your expression softened again when he crawled over to sit at your feet.

“Good boy.” You praised. You gave your thigh a pat, and he came to rest his chin on it obediently. “Hannie’s gonna do whatever he’s told right?” You asked, bringing your hand to stroke his head gently.

Jisung was unable to nod against your leg, and instead he let out a small noise of agreement. His big, earnest stare bore into you from below as he awaited your next command.

“You’re so quiet, puppy.” You commented. “Let me hear you speak.”

He lifted his head, a brief look of hesitation passing his face. You faltered for a moment, wondering if you’d crossed a line, only to relax again when Jisung let out a shy bark. He finally broke eye contact out of embarrassment, cheeks flushing, and you moved your hand to scratch under his chin reassuringly.

“Good boy,” You cooed, your approval making his face light up. “My puppy has such a cute voice.”

You reached into the bag, and Jisung perked up when you pulled out a chip. You waved your hand around just like before, his hopeful gaze following it. “You want your treat?”

Jisung barked softly again, curling his hands against his chest in a silent beg. “Ask nicely,” You ordered.

“Please…” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. “Want a treat please.”

With a smile, you lowered your hand, and Jisung eagerly took the chip into his mouth.

As you fondly watched him chew, the growing bulge in Jisung’s shorts caught your attention, and your smile widened. “Hm...what’s this?” You drawled in mock surprise. “Something got you excited, Hannie?”

Jisung swallowed hard, blush deepening and telling you all that you needed to know. He lowered his hands in a pointless attempt to cover himself, releasing the tiniest whine.

“Don’t be shy,” You encouraged, petting his soft hair. “C’mon, lemme see how worked up my puppy made himself.”

Jisung ducked his head, but obeyed you without hesitation. As soon as his hands uncovered his clothed length, you moved your foot to press down on it gently.

He gasped at the unexpected pleasure, his reaction making your spine tingle. “So sensitive.” You murmured. “You like this?”

“Yes!” Jisung whimpered as you toyed with his cock ever so slightly. “R-really…like it.” His hands came to lay flat on the ground to support himself, arms already trembling.

You rolled your foot around his length rhythmically, relishing in the soft noises bubbling in his throat. His eyes squeezed shut as you applied more pressure, and another whine escaped him, louder this time as his impatience grew. “Did hearing how good you are for me get you like this?”

Jisung nodded frantically, letting out a low moan. “Yes...hah...I’m your g-good boy.” He managed to stutter.

You removed your foot, a pathetic mewl escaping Jisung as you did. His eyes fluttered open, wide as ever, and your heart skipped a beat over his lost expression. He looked so innocent, so ready to meet your every demand.

Despite his obvious disappointment with the loss, Jisung didn’t complain. You scratched underneath his chin affectionately, and he lifted his head for you like a reflex.

“I wanna see just how well you can behave.” You announced, using your other hand to tap your own chin thoughtfully. Jisung cocked his head curiously at that, straightening up in his spot.

An idea immediately came to mind, and you grinned, leaning down until your lips were next to Jisung’s ear. “I’m gonna make you feel good, Sungie, but you have to promise me you won’t cum until you get permission. Think you can do that for me?”

Jisung swallowed hard, his expression full of nervous determination. “Y-yes...Sungie will be good. Promise.”

You gave his cheek an approving pat before pulling back slightly. His breath hitched when your hands snaked down to tug at the waistband of his shorts. Jisung instantly lifted his hips for you, and you pulled the garment off with ease, allowing his now fully hard length to spring free.

“Cute,” You marveled. “My poor puppy’s so hungry for attention.”

Jisung whined, his hips jerking up as if to wordlessly agree. Your eyes raked over his body before you brought your foot back to his cock. He gasped even louder than before, the sensation of your skin against his bare length sending sparks of electricity through him.

“Remember, be a good boy and don’t cum until I say.” You commanded gently, beginning to move your foot along his dick. Jisung let out a strained whimper before nodding, his eyes fluttering shut once again.

You slid your foot up and down slowly before stopping at the head of his length to tease it. He mewled your name weaky as you rubbed his slit, and his arms began to tremble once more. “So cute,” You cooed, repeating the action. “Is Hannie feeling good?”

Jisung panted lightly a few times before answering. “Ngh...so good.” He breathed. “M-more...more, please.”

There was a desperation in his tone that sent a shiver down your spine, and you obliged. You began to move with more urgency, stimulating every sensitive inch of Jisung’s dick. The boy cried out sharply at the sudden increase in speed, bucking up against you needily.

You took your eyes off his aching length to drink in the sight of him. His eyes were still shut tight, and his head was thrown back as delicious moans spilled out of his parted lips. You applied more pressure, and just moments later, his warning cry filled the room.

“G-gonna cum!” Jisung stammered between moans. “Can I...hah...can I p-please?”

You made no move to slow down despite the way his dick twitched under your touch, instead continuing your steady pace. “So soon?” You frowned. “C’mon, angel, you can hold out for me.”

A miserable, high-pitched whimper left Jisung in response, but he obeyed nonetheless. His thighs began to shake along with his arms, and his sounds melted into each other as they grew more and more frequent. You admired the way his brows furrowed intently as he focused all his energy into delaying his orgasm.

It wasn’t until Jisung began writhing helplessly beneath you that you finally removed your foot.

He gasped weakly, his hips surging upward in a desperate attempt to seek out more friction. His chest heaved as his high quickly escaped him, and you leaned down to cup his cheek gently.

“Good boy,” You praised, voice dripping with pride. “You handled that so well. Such an obedient puppy.”

Jisung blinked up at you, giving a lopsided grin in response to your adoring words. His breathing began to slow back to normal—though his cock was still red and dripping with precum, making his ache for release hard to ignore.

You reached into the chip bag once more, and Jisung’s glossy eyes lit up.

“Does Sungie want another treat for being so good?” You cooed. Jisung simply parted his lips, sticking out his tongue for you eagerly. You placed the chip in his mouth, suppressing a giggle with how quickly he crunched down on it.

He hummed when your hand rested on his head, stroking his hair gently as he chewed away.

Once he’d swallowed, the boy looked up at you expectantly, waiting for your next order. You ran your fingers through his locks one last time before leaning back against the couch. “Are you ready to go again?”

Jisung perked up at the question, spreading his thighs ever so slightly. He sucked in a sharp breath as you brought your foot to his length once more, making his whole body tense up.

“Same rules, puppy.” You reminded him as you began to move. “I know you can do it.”

He pressed his lips together in determination, the action puffing his full cheeks out adorably.

A warm feeling spread through your chest as you observed Jisung, heeding your commands as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Self-control wasn’t typically his strong suit, but with every soft moan and stutter of his hips you could see just how badly he wanted to behave for you, and it made your heart swell.

An especially high-pitched cry from Jisung snapped you from your thoughts, and you realized you’d slid your foot along his dripping head. “Did that feel good?” You asked innocently.

He bit his trembling lower lip and nodded. “Want me to do it again?”

“You c-can’t!” He gasped out weakly. You raised an eyebrow at him, and he immediately shrank into himself, averting his gaze in quick surrender. “S-sorry…” He whimpered. “It’s just...I’ll c-cum. If you keep d-doing that I’ll cum.”

You tilted your head to the side, circling your toes around his cock lightly. “Mm...but Hannie’s a good puppy.” You reasoned. “I know he won’t cum without permission.”

There was a moment of hesitation, then Jisung gave in. “Y-yes,” He agreed softly. “Good...‘m good.” The word seemed to have a hypnotic effect on him, as if hearing it washed away any misgivings or uncertainties he might have.

“That’s it.” You purred, increasing the pressure of your foot against him. You ran it along his slit, sending a jolt of pleasure through his body once more. Jisung practically keened at the feeling, and the filthy noise aroused you more than you’d like to admit.

It wasn’t long before he began twitching wildly again, and you knew by how quickly he was unraveling before you that he wouldn’t be able to take much more.

He threw his head back in ecstasy as you sped up your movements, letting his moans spill out of him without any restraint. “A-Ah!” He gasped. “G-gonna cum! Please let me, please!”

You hummed in response to his begging, as if carefully considering the possibility. “Hmm...I dunno, puppy. I think you can last a little longer, don’t you?”

The boy let out a choked sob, trying with all his might to contain his rapidly approaching orgasm. “Please,” His voice cracked, interrupting the near-chorus of sounds leaving him.

Despite the pity you felt at the sight of him, your delight easily outweighed it, and you continued to rub his length for a few more moments before pulling away.

A long, pathetic groan escaped Jisung. His length continued to jerk against his stomach as his orgasm was denied for the second time. You made a sympathetic noise, bringing your hands to cup his face just as you had the first time.

Jisung opened his eyes to meet yours, his gaze watery and disoriented. He looked so far gone, as if the only thing occupying his mind was whatever you chose to fill it with.

“Look at that.” You squished his cheeks together lovingly as you spoke. “You did so well for me, Hannie, I’m so proud of you.”

You placed a soft kiss on his nose to boot, and the action seemed to re-energize him. “Thank you.” He slurred.

You flashed him a warm smile, reaching your hand into the bag for another reward.

“I’m lucky to have such a well-trained puppy.” You murmured as he enthusiastically took the chip into his mouth. “So good at listening to his owner.”

Without warning, you pressed your foot down on Jisung’s length for the third time. He squeaked in surprise, his hips jerking up at the sudden contact.

You used your foot to smear the precum that had gathered at his tip along the rest of his cock, earning a sinful whine.

His sensitivity had increased tenfold from being worked to the brink of his high twice, and you relished in each and every one of his cute reactions. Even the slightest movement on your part pushed him closer to his limit, which only encouraged you to test it more.

You slipped your foot underneath his length to press it up against his stomach, and Jisung released a moan so shameless that you felt yourself twitch. With his cock now steady in place against him, you were able to slide up and down even faster than before.

Jisung’s cries quickly burst into the room, pouring out of him nonstop in a string of pleasure. You admired the way his thighs clenched and unclenched in unison with his rapid breaths. His head began thrashing from side to side as you kept up your merciless pace.

“You sound so pretty, Hannie. Maybe I should just keep teasing you like this forever.” You mused.

Jisung whined in response, proving your point even further. His legs began to quiver once more, and he bucked his hips up wildly, no longer concerned with trying to contain himself.

“You gonna cum?” You rubbed your sole against his head to elicit another pitiful sound. “Is my puppy gonna cum all over himself?”

“Y-yes!” Jisung moaned, a trail of drool spilling out of the corner of his mouth. “Feels...ah! So good, ‘m gonna cum…!”

Before he could even beg you for permission, you granted it to him. “Go ahead,” You urged. “Let it all out, you’ve earned it.”

To emphasize your words, you slid your toe along his slit once more, and just like that, Jisung came undone.

He cried out sinfully as his seed shot out of him. The spurts were so strong that they splashed his face, decorating his skin with the sticky fluid.

Jisung whimpered your name as pleasure racked his body, several more pearly ropes seeping into his hoodie.

It took several moments for him to come down from his high, and you admired his cum-stained face as he did. Jisung slowly blinked his eyes open, all the lust from earlier now replaced with a sleepy haze.

He looked up at you, lips still parted as he tried to catch his breath to speak.

“Water.” He rasped.

The request took you by surprise, and you felt a tinge of guilt for not considering how thirsty the chips would have made him. You instantly rose from the couch to go retrieve a bottle from the fridge, grabbing a napkin with you on the way back.

Jisung smiled at you gratefully when you returned and unscrewed the cap for him. You tilted the bottle gently, and he drank to his heart’s content. As he did so, you used the napkin to delicately wipe his face clean of his seed.

By the time he’d finished, Jisung had downed nearly half the bottle, and you felt your guilt increase. “Ah...I’m sorry, angel.” You murmured. “I should’ve checked on you earlier.”

Jisung shook his head as if to dismiss the idea. “S’okay.” He assured you. “Didn’t even realize I was thirsty ‘till now.”

His words comforted you somewhat, but seeing his worn out state still had you concerned. Putting the water bottle to the side, you crouched down to carefully tuck Jisung back into his boxers. 

He watched you, eyes half-lidded and dreamy, as you shifted back to the couch. You settled into the cushions before patting your legs to invite him over. Jisung complied immediately—albeit with less energy than when you’d ordered him onto the floor earlier.

He curled up snugly into your lap, his frame meshing perfectly against yours. You wrapped your arms securely around him and planted a soft kiss to his forehead.

“How are you feeling, Hannie?” You whispered.

Jisung nestled his head into your neck, letting out a blissful sigh. “So happy.” He mumbled into your skin. “So sleepy.”

There was a pause before he giggled that familiar, awkward giggle. “I’m never gonna be able to eat those chips the same way again.”

[hunnythebee]

Late Nights at 79s

18+ MINORS DNI 18+

Chapter 1: Taboo

You are a new Jedi Knight living in the heart of Coruscant and discovering the joys of the night life and the pleasures of the men who work so closely with the Jedi.

Explicit - 4.2k words - first person - female reader

Chapter 2 | Masterlist | AO3

Tags: Echo x Reader, Fives x Reader, Jedi!Reader, Fem!Reader, AFAB!Reader, clubbing, the 501st, Coruscant, 79s, hidden identity, flirting, kissing, dancing

WARNINGS and fic below the cut

last call minors gtfo

Warnings and Explicit tags: Alcohol, Oral (female recieving), Bathroom sex, exhibitionism if you squint, PIV, unprotected, creampie, dubcon?, straight up blasphemous use of the force.

Being a Jedi Knight definitely had its perks. For starters, being allowed to live outside the walls of the Temple on Coruscant, giving me a sense of freedom I never even knew I craved. Secondly, I was able to have a life outside of the order. As a Padawan I had always heard clones discussing places on the lower levels with dancing and drinking, but never did I think that I would enjoy such things. How wrong I was. It didn’t take long till I came across one of these clubs, and shortly after that I became a regular patron. It was an extremely risky game I was playing, clubbing with clones. Any given night I could be recognized, but I didn’t care. If I’m being completely honest it added to the exhilaration of being in such places.

My first night was fairly tame. I hadn’t known how to dress or act in such a situation. I only danced to two songs and drank one drink. In the morning I realized how lucky I was to not have been recognized by any of the clones. Originally I made a vow to myself to never go back, but I couldn’t help myself. It was fun and I craved more. The next time I went I was smarter. I purchased a few skimpy outfits, mirroring the women I had seen in the club my first night, and a pair of heels. The smartest addition to my outfits was a lightweight hooded cowl with a mask. Covering my face and hair so only my eyes show. 

That was a month ago, and I’ve gone at least twice a week every week since. Tonight I was going again, but this night was going to be quite different from others. I had already gone out to 79s twice this week, but on the second night I met a very flirty and forward ARC Trooper from the 501st. After he bought me a drink and we danced for a bit he invited me to come again tonight. He told me his brothers in blue were going to be there and I couldn’t pass on the chance to party with Skywalker’s boys. Since I knew that they were 501st, I decided a special outfit might be in order. I donned the white version of my signature cowl and a tight, short satin dress. It was a vibrant blue with two strips of fabric covering my breasts and tying behind my neck. My eyes were lined by a kohl liner and faux lashes. It made me feel more alluring as I peered up at the clones from behind my mask. I checked the time and discovered I was already running late, so I tucked my hair up into the hood and pulled up my mask. Ready to hail a speeder taxi to the lower levels.

When I arrived the music was steadily thumping inside and there was already a line wrapping around the block. I sighed, mentally cursing myself for taking so long. Just as I was about to make my way to the end of the line a masculine grabbed the crook of my elbow and spun me around. It was the clone who had invited me.

“There you are!” He greeted me with a mischievous crooked grin. He wasn’t wearing his half blacks, half armor that he had been wearing when I met him. No, tonight he was wearing a well tailored black button down and deliciously tight grey slacks. I eyed him up and down, thankful for the mask hiding the fact that I was biting my lip. He wouldn’t have caught it anyways, since he was too busy ogling me.

“Did you wear all this for me?” He asked smugly, a smirk plastered to his face.

“I might have,” I winked, “I think the 501st looks rather good on me, don��t you?”

“Baby…” he clutched his chest and stumbled back dramatically. “You gotta warn a man before you say something like that.” He earned the laughter he was after and returned to my side, snaking an arm around my waist and resting his hand on my hip. He was guiding me straight to the door, past the ever-growing line. He locked eyes with the bouncer and they gave each other a familiar nod as the velvet rope was lifted for us.

Inside it was loud and crowded and familiar. It was a really busy night, busier than what I was used to. All the tables were occupied and there was hardly any standing room at the bar. The clone by my side leaned in close to my ear, the scruff of his goatee brushing my skin ever so lightly.

“The boys and I already got a booth, what do you say we get you a drink?” His voice was so sultry and close to my ear that my skin erupted into chills and I lost my words for a moment. I gathered myself and cleared my throat.

“A drink would be great, thanks.” I nodded to him. We pushed our way up to the bar, where he got the attention of the bartender. Luckily, it was the one I usually saw when I came so I didn’t even have to order. They turned around, handed me my usual order and went back to serving the other patrons. My host was amazed by the interaction.

“That was impressive. You some kind of Jedi? Send him your order via the Force or some kriff?” He laughed at his own joke as I froze. My eyes widened in shock for a second before processing that he wasn’t being serious. I let out a half hearted laugh, which was not enough for him to drop it.

“You okay?” His face showed genuine concern as he searched my eyes. My heart was racing still, but I managed to compose myself.

“Yeah… just nervous about meeting your brothers,” I lied, brushing off my shock as nerves.

He cupped my clothed cheek with his hand, and I could feel the warmth transfer through the thin material. “There’s nothing to be worried about mesh’la. I’m not sure what you’ve heard, but I promise we aren’t that bad.”

I nodded, still feeling a twinge of fear in my gut. Something in the way the Force was ebbing around me tonight told me that change was coming and I feared that it meant that my little charade was about to be discovered. I had been so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t caught that he was talking to me again, not until his lips were against my ear again.

“The name’s Fives, by the way,” never had an introduction sounded so seductive, “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”

I swallowed hard. In all the times I had been here I had been able to avoid giving my name. I didn’t even have a fake one on hand. I hesitated for a long moment before having a stroke of genius.

“You…” I placed an open palm to his chest, resting on the slightly exposed skin, “Can call me Fours.”

He smirked and squinted at me quizically, “Why ‘Fours’?”

I leaned in close to ear and pulled my mask down so my lips could brush his ear for a change, “Because, Fours comes before Fives.”

He shivered at my words and gripped my hips hard as I pulled my mask back up. Fives pulled me in tight against him and rested his forehead to mine. The biggest grin spread across his face. “We are going to have the best karking night.”

After our little introduction, he led me by the hand to one of the booths lining the walls. It was packed tight with clones in various states of dress. Two were sporting the standard half blacks, half armor of most off-duty clones, and were engaged in an intense arm wrestling match. One was dressed in a muscle tank with a leather jacket draped over the back of the booth near him, nursing his drink and lazily watching the events of the match unfold. The last one was dressed similarly to Fives, but his shirt matched the color of my dress. He had been watching for us. Fives presented me to the table while they all looked up from what they were doing.

“This is Fours, boys. I told you I was bringing a beauty tonight.” He announced proudly, causing my cheeks to flush. Once again I felt very thankful for the mask. The clone in blue stood to welcome me. He took my hand in his and kissed the back of it, and as he did I noted his hair was a light shade of blonde. 

“Captain Rex, at your service. But you can just call me Rex.” He flashed me the sweetest smile and my heart skipped a beat. I had known I was drinking with clones of the 501st, but it was now occurring to me that I was partying with the 501st. I should have realized it when Fives told me his name but it didn’t register till now. He was busy introducing everyone else at the table but I was too wrapped up in my own astonishment to listen. I didn’t need to. This was Captain Rex, Arc-Trooper Fives, Echo, Jesse, and their medic Kix. Their identifiers were unmistakable now that I was really looking at them. I had heard of these men in multiple briefings, but never had I seen them in person. Maybe I could be a little more relaxed with my mask tonight, since I don’t risk them knowing me.

“It’s an honor to be drinking with you all tonight,” I offered as thanks for the invite.

“Trust me, the honor is all ours tonight,” smirked Jesse. They all shifted, allowing for me to have space to sit down with them. I sat sandwiched between Fives and Jesse. Jesse’s cologne filled my senses and I desperately wanted to bury my face in his shirt and breathe deeply, but I exercised restraint. Echo and Kix went back to their arm wrestle and I sat swirling my drink in my hand, contemplating how far I was willing to let my guard down. I hadn’t noticed that Jesse had stretched his arm out behind me and was leaning in closer.

“That cowl looks hot and uncomfortable, you got a reason for wearing it?” He was pressing into me and my mind was going blank.

“R–religion. Can only take it off around trusted ones.” Which was mostly true.

“You don’t trust us?” He pouted jokingly.

Without a second thought I responded, “Of course I trust you guys, it's… others I don’t trust.” I gestured toward the jumping crowd of people.

“We can fix that, can’t we Captain?” Jesse nodded to Rex, who seemed to instinctively understand. He manipulated a button on a panel I had never noticed before and an opaque red curtain fell over the entrance to the booth alcove.

Fives spoke next, “Now you can get as comfortable as you want babe.”

I chewed my cheek for a moment as I contemplated it. 

Kriff it. I pulled the mask down and the hood. All eyes were on me as my hair fell loose and free and my face was revealed in full. Most were looking on in pure feral attraction, but one was fixed a little too intensely on my features. I could feel Echo eyeing me carefully, a question burning in his mind. I decided to pry.

“Something the matter?” I asked, turning to him and locking eyes with him.

“N-no. Nothing’s wrong.” He stammered.

“C’mon, you can tell me,” I pushed.

He licked his lower lip and leaned closer to me. “Why are you using the name Fours? We all know that isn’t your real name.”

My heart sank. Kriff. How could he recognize me? I opted to try the same trick on him that I had tried on Fives.

“Fours comes before Fives.” I throw him a wink and he stiffened while the whole table erupted in laughter.

“Leave it to Fives to find one that is even sassier than he is.” Kix joked as he took a shot. Fives narrowed his eyes at his brother while Kix just smiled into his drink. I reached out in the Force, sensing an unease. It was Echo. He wasn’t satisfied with my answer and I needed to know why. But for now I was going to enjoy my time with the boys in blue. I took a long sip of my spotchka, appreciating the warmth spreading through my extremities as I did so.

The night continued on with multitudes of topics of conversation, mostly trying to find out more about me. However I was expertly dodging every question and offering my own in return. I got them sharing war stories and barracks gossip and that was the end of their line of questioning.

“...and then I said I’ve never been with a Rodian before but I’ll try anything once!” Jesse finished his story and the table laughed.

“There is no way you fucked a Rodian,” I challenged him.

“I have proof if you don’t believ–” he moved to pull out his datapad and the whole table shouted “NO!”

“Alright alright, I believe you! I do NOT want to see that though.” I shuddered.

“Don’t have the stomach for the suction cups?” Joked Kix. I shook my head ‘no’ in response and laughed.

“What is the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, Fours?” Asked Rex. My face turned bright pink, and I no longer was hidden by my cowl. It wasn’t that I hadn’t done anything before, but there was no way I could tell the story without revealing what I am.

“Uhhh…” My brain was stalling out, I had nothing. All eyes were on me, and then Echo came to my rescue. He had just returned from the bar with another round and saw the look on my face. Echp placed the tray down and offered a hand to me.

“Apologies for the rudeness of my brothers. No one’s even offered to dance with you tonight.” He was looking at me with such intent. I knew I needed to accept his offer.

“You are absolutely right Echo!” I pulled my hood and mask back on as I stood and took Echo’s hand, making sure to walk a little extra seductively as the other clones looked on. We entered the dancefloor as another song was playing. I linked my arms around the back of Echo’s neck and pressed my hips against his as I started to move and grind. Instinctively, he placed his hands on my hips and began grinding with me. For the first time that night, he was relaxed with me. It didn’t last though, I pulled back a little to look into his golden eyes and his face dropped into a look of abject horror. He released my hips like I was hot metal and abandoned me on the dancefloor. I was dumbfounded and a little offended. I decided to pursue him through the crowd. He was hurrying along to the restrooms, but I managed to catch up as he went in and bolted the door behind me. I turned around to confront him but he was already on me. He pinned me to the door I had just locked and pulled my mask down. In the harsh light of the bathroom there was no hiding any feature of my face. 

“Commander...” Was all he said, and it felt as if the floor fell out from beneath me. He pushed off me with a grunt and began pacing the length of the restroom and anxiously running his hands through his hair I could feel the mixture of emotions coming off of him. I needed to put his mind at ease.

“E–Echo… I swear it’s not what you think.” I attempted to reassure him but he turned to face me with a wild look in his eye.

“It isn’t? So you aren’t in disguise? In a nightclub? Seducing clones?” His words were harsh, but true.

“I’ll have you know I haven’t hooked up with a single clone!” I attempted to defend myself. He was breathing so hard, I could see his chest rising and falling even from this distance. I decided to throw caution to the wind since I was already screwed. “How did you know who I was?”

“General Shaak Ti has a picture in her quarters back in Tipoca City. Fives and I used to end up there a alot… You’re in the photo.”

“Do the others know?” I asked, feeling my stomach twist.

“No. It’s not my place to tell them,” he stated plainly. I felt a surge of comfort. The last thing this clone wanted to do is rat me out.

“Is… is it your place to tell the council?”

“What?! No! I would never.” He responded, sounding almost offended.

I took a deep breath, feeling my nerves ease exponentially. He wasn’t going to turn me in, thank the maker. But then that begged the question, why was he still looking like he’s about to pass out?

“Echo?” I asked cautiously.

“Yes?” He asked, sounding as dissheveled as he looked.

I hesitated for a moment, debating if I wanted the answer to this question or not. “Why are you so concerned about my being a Jedi if you aren’t going to turn me in?”

He gripped the bathroom counter so hard his knuckles turned white. My heart was racing waiting for his answer. I was staring at him, my bottom lip between my teeth. He looked back at me and answered finally, “Because… you’re a Jedi.”

“And?” The question came out more flirtatious than I intended.

He took a shaky breath and a step toward me, “And… I’m a clone…”

The entire situation came to light, my body moved without permission. Closing the distance further. “And?” My words were breathy and low.

“It’s…” The distance closed between us and he brushed a hand along my bare arm. I shivered and keened into his touch. “It’s…” he said once more, his eyes fixed hungrily on me.

“It’s?” I teased, lacing my fingers into his hair.

“Forbidden.” He finally managed. The word lit a fire inside me. Like the reminder of how wrong all of this was made me want it more. I pressed closer to him and his hands found my hips. Our lips were close but still just barely touching, and I wanted so desperately to close the distance.

I whispered into his mouth, “Only if we get caught.” 

A groan came from his throat and that was all the push he needed. His mouth was hot against mine. His kisses were more delicious than I could have imagined. It was sweet, despite the alcohol, and laced with a neediness that I felt down to my core. His hands moved down my legs and he lifted me so my legs wrapped around his waist. He carried me to the very bathroom counter he had been clinging to moments before, his mouth never leaving mine. He set me down on the counter and his lips left mine for a moment too long. I pulled at the fistful of hair I had in hand and exposed his neck. My mouth moved expertly along his thick, muscular neck. I bit into a soft spot right under his jaw and he moaned. His hips attempted to grind into me, but he was still wearing his cod piece. I moved to remove it, but he caught my wrists before I could finish my task. His eyes were fixed on mine, and he looked feral and seductive this way. 

“I want to taste you first.” Before I could finish nodding yes to his statement, he was already sinking to his knees. My dress had ridden up my legs when he had carried me so all that he had to do to reach my wetness was remove my panties. He carefully pulled them down my legs and off. He pocketed them with a smirk and spread my legs wider to get a better look at the arousal dripping from my pussy. He licked his lips at the sight and licked through the folds, swirling and sucking at the swelling bundle of nerves. I tipped my head back and moaned his name. This spurred him on further, beginning to eat my pussy like I was the most delicious meal he had ever tasted. I was already coming undone from his mouth when he added a finger. He tenderly sunk the digit into my opening and curled it against my favorite spot. I spasmed under his touch and he smiled against my pussy as he began to pump his finger in and out.

“F–fuck…Echo…ahh… more. Want more.” I begged between gasps. I wanted him to fill me, stretch me out. He obliged my pleading, sinking another finger into my wetness. The sounds pouring from my mouth were obscene. A series of curses and moans as I grinded against his tongue.

“D-don’t stop… gonna cum…make me cum…” my moans and pleas were echoing throughout the restroom. He added one more finger and I felt the stretch I desperately wanted. I lost all control of my body as he brought me closer and closer.

“I’m cumming. Fuck! I’m cum-cumming…” I screamed as the sensation surged through my veins. He pushed me over that edge and worked me through it. Once the clenching throb of my pussy walls subsided he pulled his fingers from me and licked them clean. He stood and pressed another searing kiss to my lips, but now he tasted of me. I broke away slightly.

“Fuck me,” I whispered against his mouth. I was still riding the high of my orgasm, but I needed him inside me. He didn’t say a word. Instead he began removing his codpiece, letting it clatter to the floor once it was detached. He pulled out his throbbing cock and fisted it a few times.

“Turn around,” he commanded, “I want you to watch yourself get fucked by me.” His words made me even wetter. I hopped off the counter, legs still fairly weak, and turned around to face the mirror. He pressed me down against the counter so my ass was on full display. Echo kneaded the round flesh as he dragged his tip through my wetness. Then he was pushing in, slowly, splitting me open on his cock. I did as he asked and watched the mirror as he sank into my pussy. My eyes looked fucked out and my hair was in a disarray but I couldn’t care less. He buried himself inside me completely, and sat there for a moment. Once I had adjusted to the feeling he began to move. He was being painfully slow and cautious with me.

“That the best you got, trooper?” I teased, using his title to remind him of the taboo act we were committing. I felt his dick pulse inside me and I knew I had gotten the desired effect. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and leaned over me so he could look in my eyes through the mirror.

“I was going to take it easy on you, Commander. But if you want to be fucked like the dirty slut you are…” He pulled his hips back and slammed them into me with immense force, using his hold on my hair to keep me in place. “Then who am I to say no?”

Echo’s pace picked up, and he continued fucking into me with no mercy. I was certain that my pussy would be bruised in the morning, and maker help me, that’s exactly what I wanted. We were not quiet. Moaning loudly, his hips slapping against my ass. I shut my eyes for a moment and he grabbed my face to make me look back into the mirror.

“You’re such a pretty little Jedi slut. Watch as I fuck you so hard you won’t be able to remember your own name.” He commanded.

“Yes, sir.” I moaned. 

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum…” 

A devious thought creeped into my mind and I couldn’t help myself, “Cum inside me, fill me up Echo.”

“I–I shouldn’t. T–too wrong. T–taboo.” He was deliriously close.

“Then fuck me right up to your orgasm, please Echo…” I begged innocently.

He didn’t respond, he just kept fucking into my pussy. Chasing his orgasm. I knew he wanted to cum inside me, he just didn’t want to admit it. I reached out with the force, as he got closer I readied myself. Then it came, his hips began to stutter and he moved to pull out. I pushed him back into me with the force and he screamed out my actual name as he climaxed. He collapsed over my body, gasping for air.

“Did you do that?” He asked once his senses began to come back to him. He pulled his softening cock from my leaking hole and I turned to face him. I smiled sweetly.

“Are you mad?” I asked, nuzzling against his nose.

He groaned, “Not even slightly. Just shocked you would use the force in such a… perverted way.” He helped adjust my dress, but refused to give back my panties. “Think of it as my proof that I fucked a Jedi.” He smirked and pressed one last sweet kiss to my lips. Before leaving the bathroom ahead of me. Instead of immediately returning to the booth, I opted to get a quick shot at the bar. My head was spinning from the encounter with Echo and I felt like it was evident on my face. I needed something to counteract that.

Chapter 2 | Masterlist | AO3

[bigricc]

Firsts | DR

Just a little 1k word blurb on first dates! Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

When Daniel had asked you out, he expected good food and mediocre conversation, followed by a quick fuck. What he didn’t expect, was for you to reel him in so quickly. Sure, when he had met you at a bar last weekend, he thought you were attractive - but nothing could have prepared him for how obsessed he would become with every word that came out of your mouth. The way your lips moved as you spoke, the little inflections at the end of each sentence, the twitch of your right eyebrow when you were particularly passionate about something - everything about you. He wanted to know everything about you, and he wanted to know it all now.

You thought he was cocky when he first approached you; sauntering over to you with a smirk spread across his face. The man sitting opposite you now though, was far more relaxed. Quietly confident. If you were honest, the entire date had taken you by surprise. The restaurant he’d chosen was fairly intimate; the two of you tucked into the back corner of the room. He had surprised you with his choice, fully expecting a cheap drink in a dingy bar; you weren't naive enough to think that this would develop further after this one night.

“Do I get to see you again after this?” He didn’t want to leave, but with both of your meals long since finished, he knew he couldn’t hold you hostage in the restaurant forever.

“If you’re lucky, yeah.” You flashed him a coy smile, not yet giving in to his suggestion of another date. 

“What’ll boost my chances?” The way you were looking at him made him want to capture your attention for as long as possible, so he never had to watch your eyes leave his face.

“Walk me home and you’ll find out.” Holy shit.

•

The teasing and banter between the two of you continued on the walk home. Him, with his arm draped across your shoulders, his arm long enough that his hand grazed the top of your chest. In turn, your hand moved across his back, drumming various patterns across it with your fingers. Despite the slight chill in the air, he was warm. You wondered what it would be like to cocoon yourself in his arms properly, to have him pull you closer. 

“You should come to a race soon. I think you’d like it.” It was him who brought up his career. You’d been hesitant to ask him about his job at dinner, figuring that he must want a break from talking about racing almost constantly. You knew he was passionate about it, obviously, but you wanted to find out what else made his eyes light up in that same way.

“I bet you say that to all the pretty girls you meet.” He let out a cackle at that.

“No, just one pretty girl, actually.” The girls he had seen in the past usually had more interest in the pageantry surrounding the sport; the parties, the attention, the drinks on his tab. You, however, he thought would enjoy the action. And he wanted you to see him win.

“Oh come on, you can’t be serious.” You’d seen with your own eyes the way that women flocked to him at that bar the weekend prior. How could he not want to utilise that ego-boost?

“I’m serious, babe. I’ve only ever had friends and family come to a race weekend.” In the dim lighting of the street you were on, he could see a faint blush spread across your cheeks. The nickname made you bite your lower lip softly, trying not to smile too big. He wanted to make you react like that all the time.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, maybe I sound like a dick, but no one has else has ever really made me feel like they deserved to come. Or like, deserved for me to share that with them, if that makes any sense.” The comment held more weight than you realised. Race weekends felt sacred to him. Sure, anyone could watch the race, but to have access to Daniel away from the cameras, during a weekend that saw a range of every possible emotion was different. 

“Oh.. and d- do I deserve to?” The way he was looking down at you made you nervous. It was hard not to trip over your own feet when he smiled at you like that.

“I think so. You’re cool.” He probably could have picked a nicer way to compliment you, but it made you laugh anyway. 

The closer you got to your apartment, the more you wished to bottle this moment up forever and carry it around with you. Typically, you hated first dates. And second dates. The awkwardness of getting to know someone was often too much for you. It felt weird to talk about yourself that much. With Daniel though, it was easy. He made you feel as though he was genuinely interested in you and your life, your friends, your family. 

You led him up towards the front step of your building, stumbling slightly when he refused to loosen his grip on your shoulder. You were both still a bit tipsy off of the bottle of wine you had shared at dinner. His selection, of course. When he had chosen it, he’d spouted off to you about how he was somewhat of a wine connoisseur. He must of been right, because the wine was good.

“So, have I earned a second date yet?” Moving to stand in front of you, he brought both hands to rest on your hips. Yours moved to rest on his forearms, your thumb running across the tattoos on his left arm. 

“Almost, yeah.” With that, he drags you forwards by your hips, bringing one hand up to rest on the side of your neck. You’d been waiting for him to kiss you since you first sat down for dinner, and when he finally does, it’s easy to let your body sink into his. The combination of the taste of red wine on his lips, and the way his thumb brushes across your jaw is enough to drive you insane. When he (unfortunately) pulls away, the desperate look on your face makes him laugh.

“What about now?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” With another quick peck to your mouth, he reluctantly lets you go. Taking your time to unlock the main door of your building, he allows his eyes to rake over your figure. Nice. And, with a cheeky smile and a seductive look over your shoulder,

“I think you’re cool too, Dan.”

[boywriters-blog]

Requesting Charles/Nathan plz! :)

Nathan/Charles

hehe of course!! thank you sm for requesting!!

i ♡ metalocalypse with my soul and body!!

warnings: nothing rlly! just some nice fluff! maybe a liiiittle teeeny tiny bit ooc

takes place like .. beginning of AOTD .. and let’s pretend they don’t immediately have to write the song of salvation ^_^

Nathan had been stressed out and drugged up, he didn’t even really know what he was doing. He thought Abigale was the love of his life. He proposed to her still in his hospital gown.

He thought she loved him. I mean she kissed him! Of course he would read into it. Especially when she completely ignored it. What else was he supposed to think? He didn’t want to believe it meant nothing.

But it did. A simple savior’s kiss. And he read too far into in and proposed to her. He felt so stupid. He should’ve realized. He didn’t even really love her, he liked someone else, he just..wanted to be loved. Maybe he didn’t even realize he liked someone else. Maybe he’s trying to deny it. Maybe’s it’s .. gay.

After yelling at the fans outside of Mordhaus, he went inside and up the stairs to Charles. Bumping into Pickles along the way.

He muttered a quiet, “Sorry.”, and continued up, reaching the top of the stairs within a couple minutes. Man he needed to work out more. This was exhausting. He walked over to the rail but didn’t touch it, just looking down and around.

Charles put a hand on his shoulder, turning him to face the other. He had a sympathetic, saddened expression on his face. They walked over to a more private area of the floor. Nathan was wobbling a bit, so he sat down, Charles standing above him.

Nathan looked down, embarrassed by the rejection and how intimidated he feels by the other man. Maybe not just intimidation, some attraction as well. Not that he’d ever admit that to his band’s manager. He was pretty sure the man was into chicks anyway.

Charles put his hands on each side of Nathan’s face, forcing the lead singer to look at him. His face turned a light pink, not used to his face getting held like this.

“Nathan. You have great potential. I mean, objectively you’re pretty great already- but-“, he thought for a moment, “You have to potential to be even greater. I know it. I’ve been by your side since the beginning of the record label. I’ve watched over you for years and years.”

The long haired man shifted a little bit, looking into the former manager’s eyes, the pink on his cheeks darkening.

“You-“, he paused, his own cheeks sporting a soft almost transparent blush. He quickly shook it off and continued. “You are my greatest work. Don’t get so hung up over some girl when you have people that .. care about you, and even love you.”

The almost transparent blush on his cheeks darkened, becoming more apparent. He squeezed his cheeks lightly, looking him in the eyes.

“You will forever be the thing I dream of, the greatest work of my lifetime. I am just lucky to be here right now, to be able to be there for you.”

Nathan’s eye widened as his face turned red, was he making a move on him? Was he admitting to some sort of truth? Being honest, Nathan had always thought of Charles like that, but didn’t really realize what that meant. Until now.

Charles didn’t let go of his face, instead analyzing it. He was fairly certain he felt the same way, adding in his facial response, he was almost positive.

They stared into each other’s eyes in silence, this went on for a couple minutes, Nathan stunned in silence. His face was red, his mouth was agape, and his eyes were wide. His hands moved up to hold onto Charles’s waist, pulling him closer.

His mouth opened to say something but he decided against it, he had spoken a lot, now it was Nathan’s turn. Instead his eyes slightly widened, and his face turned red this time.

“You..You’re a pretty great guy..a great manager..a great priest..a great..person..I guess. I..”, he was thinking about what to say, he didn’t want to come off as super gay, but .. he kinda wanted to. “I think you’re more than great. Spectacular or perfect or something.”

Charles smiled and kneeled down to match his level, Nathan’s hands moving to hold his face as well.

“I think..you’re really smart and cool..and..and handsome or whatever. You always know what to say..for some reason. You know what works, what doesn’t work. You..”,

He couldn’t find the words to express how he felt. Instead, Nathan frustratedly grumbled and kissed Charles, putting a hand on the back of his head. Charles hesitantly kissed back, any doubt immediately washed away. The kiss was passionate. You could tell they’ve been waiting a long time to do this.

Nathan pulled him up onto his lap, wrapped his arms around him, pulling the other closer. Charles put his arms on his shoulders, holding himself up, his knees on either side of Nathan’s lap.

They broke the kiss after a minute or two and caught their breath. Charles choosing to sit next to Nathan, adjusting his clothes to look proper again. They both chuckled for a moment and looked back into each other’s eyes. Nathan was the first to speak.

“So..does this make us like..boyfriends? or whatever..?”, he fiddled with his hands in his lap nervously, his face entirely red.

Charles smiled, grabbed one of his hands and nodded, kissing it and responding, “Of course.”

Nathan smiled and held his hand, intertwining their fingers together. The rest of the band having seen everything, they had decided to come up and check on Nathan, but it seemed like Charles had it under control..So they stayed to watch and see what would happen.

They quickly went back down the stairs, not saying a word till they reached the bottom, then freaking out amongst themselves.

William exclaimed that he knew it, Skwisgaar scoffed and rolled his eyes, not seeing why it’s such a huge deal. Toki and Pickles were happy the two of them had finally confessed.

———————————————————————

HII!! So sorry if this isn’t exactly what you want!! always lmk if i can write anything else for you!! have an amazing day!!

-Mooshi <3

[firekitten830]

thinking about gio .... tell us more about him he's literally silly + i like him so much

YOUVE ACTUVATED . MY AUTISM

Makes a bulleted list

-full name Giovanni Morningstar, both of them chosen rather than given. Ooc I chose Giovanni because he is actually vaguely based on my pc from a different ttrpg, and that characters middle name is Giovanni. And Morningstar is a reference to The Devil. like from the bible dksgsjhd

-his divine blood specifically comes from Sharess, goddess of hedonism and indulgence that vanished when dnd 5e came out during the second sundering . So it is no surprise he is motivated almost entirely by hedonism

-he does not know this.

-he’s definitely not her only descendant but he’s her only descendant that inherited any of her magic

-he was not always a tiefling

-he didn’t always have access to his divine magic

-the previous two points were sparked by the same event

-he was born in waterdeep! Not baldurian but gets around enough to know some things

-wanted magic desperately but had absolutely 0 talent for it before his divine magic awakened so he learned the next best thing: stealing shit. Man has been conning and pickpocketing and just generally getting up to thievery and tomfoolery since he was like. 8 (charlatan background)

-folk hero background could fit him pretty well too! Before he got Tadpoled he sorta wandered from place to place helping common folks and robbing rich people blind. Sort of a Robin Hood type guy but he did also keep a good bit of money lol

-he’s a trans man :] no surgeries and he doesn’t want them, though he does take wizard testosterone or whatever it would be in dnd. Probably a potion or something

-queer and poly!! I imagine he has a couple lovers across the sword coast, some he’s going steady with and others he’s sort of off and on with. He’s so lucky he lives in a world where teleportation exists and is not that hard all things considered im so jealous fr (I’ve also decided that his dream guardian looks suspiciously like one of his boyfriends). Worm nerfing his magic has unfortunately made keeping in touch a bit harder but he’s been managing

-his blood is a pretty potent magical power source and several people have tried to abduct him to use him as a conduit for spells or rituals because of this. I imagine after That Scene™️ with Astarion he was like “oh shit I should’ve warned him about that. Oh well he seems fine” . In the moment he was too focused on there being a hot vampire straddling him

-his tattoos are tied to his magic and glow when he casts spells. You can tell which way he’s about to fucking get you because he’s conveniently color-coded

-may or may not be on the brink of turning into a mind flayer but I’m sure that’s like. Fine.

WAIT I just remember I made a dnd character sheet for him before I ever got bg3 and I wrote a whole background thing as well as a value/ flaw for him . I’ll put those under a read more tho this is already kinda long

this part is written ooc!!

“Sharp, charismatic, and hedonistic to a fault. He has a silver tongue and a knack for deception, able to lie his way into and out of nearly any situation. He’s been driven out of many towns for his infernal heritage, alongside the myriad cons and schemes he often pulls on the wealthy, though he’s welcomed into just as many as a minor celebrity, and in some cases, a hero. This suits him just fine, though; he’s always been one to dance from place to place anyway. He enjoys finery of all kinds, and is happy to trade fine food, drink, clothing and accessories for coin… though he much prefers to offer favors as payment. He does have many talents after all; a quick-fingered thief, an excellent negotiator, a ruthless conman, a somewhat formidable sorcerer, a gifted storyteller, and if it suits your fancy, an escort (though he does charge extra for events)… as well as some other things, of course~”

“It is fairly difficult to draw his ire;he’s more than willing to forgive and forget most wrongs against him. But it would be wise not to test his limits too much; his normally capricious manner becomes cold and relentless when he feels punishment is owed. People who hurt those he cares about often walk away with gruesome scars… if they walk away at all.”

And then I have a ummm ideals and flaw section written in character cause these are on his character sheet

Ideals: “The safety and happiness of those close to me matters far more than any laws, or the ‘greater good’”

Flaws: “I’ve been called self-serving on many occasions, and I’m always weak to a bit of liquor and a pretty face”

I am sure I will think of more things to say about him I inevitably always do but I’m a little sleepy so I’m ending this post now!!

[evieismol]

Big Bend Chapter 12

Previous Chapter

Word count: 1135

Warnings: mentions of people being scared of giants I guess? Otherwise nothing really for this chapter

“Hannah’s niece was excited to meet you,” John said as he stepped out of the elevator and onto Easton’s desk. The giant was presently eating a bowl of oatmeal. He straightened up upon seeing John, taking a moment to swallow before answering. He pushed the bowl away from both of them.

“She seems like a sweet kid,” Easton said.

“You don’t have to stop eating,” John said, glancing over towards the bowl.

“I was getting full anyways,” Easton said with a small shrug. John raised his eyebrow at that. There were two reasons behind that. First, he’d noticed that Easton never ate around people - John had thought it might have been a coincidence the first few times, but by now was fairly sure it was a purposeful choice to not alarm the humans. The same way he tended to always smile with his mouth closed.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I’m really not scared of you,” John said. Easton looked down, giving an awkward laugh.

“Was I that obvious?” He asked after a moment.

“A little,” John said. “And I’m sure some of the other humans would appreciate the thoughtfulness, but you’re not the first non-human being I’ve worked with. Or the scariest.”

“Well, that’s a refreshing change of pace,” Easton said.

“Seriously, just eat the oatmeal,” John said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Thanks,” Easton said gratefully, pulling the bowl of oatmeal back over towards him. “Abbey didn’t seem scared of me either. I love that about kids,” he said after taking another bite of oatmeal. “I mean, I totally get why people are, generally. It’s still nice when they’re not, though.”

“I think that’s understandable,” John said.

“This is entirely unrelated, but I was talking to my friends from New York earlier, and they mentioned coming to visit possibly,” Easton said.

“Your human friends?” John asked. Easton nodded. “I’m still dying to know the story behind that one.”

“It’s a long one,” Easton said. “I mean, I don’t mind telling it, though.”

“I have nowhere to be,” John said with a shrug. “Besides, curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.”

“I almost never hear the entire quote,” Easton mused. “Well, anyways, we met, I think six years ago in human years. Like two on Aphiria? I’m bad at math, there’s a reason I studied flowers. Anyways, they were in some trouble on Earth and ended up jumping through a portal they found.”

“Jumping through a random portal. Must have been some trouble,” John said.

“Yeah, that’s what I said too,” Easton said. “It’s more their story to tell than mine, but basically they were in a bad financial spot, and ended up falling in debt with some bad people. Like, seriously bad people. Jumping through the portal was a last resort after one of them was injured. I was out for a walk along a trail near the portal and thought I heard voices, and obviously I offered to help them.”

“I guess they’re lucky you came along,” John said. “How’d the other Aphirials take their presence?”

Easton looked down. “We didn’t tell anyone for a while. I wasn’t…sure how people would respond to them. We ended up telling my sister eventually, and she helped them get back to earth.”

“Your sister’s on the Earth-Aphirial committee that recommended you, isn’t she?” John asked.

Easton gave an awkward laugh. “Yeah…go nepotism, I guess. I really didn’t ask her to do that, I swear.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem like an undeserved recommendation, at least,” John offered. “You seem to do a good job interacting with humans.”

“I really try,” Easton said. “I always wanted to see Earth, ever since we learned about it in school when I was a kid. I mean, you guys have such a diverse planet. Like, this park alone…it’s gorgeous. Not to mention the people. There’s so many of you, and so many different countries and languages and cultures…it’s incredible.”

“That’s why you took the job, then?” John asked.

“I guess so. It’s kind of why I wanted to be a park ranger to start with,” Easton said. “Getting to see new things, getting to share them with people. Seeing the same wonder I felt the first time I learned something…I love it. Why’d you decide to work for the IMA, if you don’t mind me asking?”

John chuckled. “Well, I don’t have nearly as touching an answer. Joined the marines to afford college, and after multiple tours overseas, ended up being recommended for recruitment for the IMA. I like the job, though. Like you said, there’s always something new.”

“Like a giant alien park ranger?” Easton asked, amusement in his voice.

“Among other things,” John said with a smile. “So, what was that about your friends coming to visit, before we got sidetracked?”

“Hm? Oh, right! They were saying they might come visit for the Fourth of July. That’s another thing I love about Earth - all the new holidays.”

“Does Aphiria have holidays?” John asked.

Easton nodded. “We do. Not as many, though. At least the main ones. They’re based on the solstices there.”

“That sounds interesting. You know, I think you know far more about Earth than I do Aphiria,” John said.

“Well, I’m always happy to ramble about it anytime you’re curious,” Easton said. “I feel like that’s probably the case for most humans. There’s not a lot of like, academic or historical research. The only reason I know most of what I know is the friends I mentioned.”

“Suppose that’s true. I don’t think most humans have even met an Aphirial. Though, that mightbbe changing if they’ve come to the park recently,” John said.

“Likewise with Aphirials and humans. I think all we really learned in school was like, ‘mysterious tiny planet’,” Easton said.

“Well, there might be a bit more lore about Aphiria floating around on this end, but I wouldn’t assume any of it was particularly truthful.”

“Yeah…I’ve heard some of those stories,” Easton said. “And seen how people generally react to me at first. Not that I can blame them - I mean, there is some truth to the whole carnivorous giant alien thing. I’m sure I’d be a little freaked out too if I was on the other end of things. If anything I appreciate the effort to not just like, run away screaming.”

“Fair enough,” John said.

[ladylooch]

Letters in Your Last Name - Chapter 28

A/N: He's here! He's here! Luca Fiala is here!

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: pregnancy, graphic descriptions of birth, pregnancy related medical issues.

March

I carefully balance the Boom Chicka Pop bag on my large belly, giggling as my son kicks in response and moves the bag slightly to the left.

“Hey. I only have a little bit longer to balance things on you before it’s going to be frowned upon.” I soothe him by rubbing my hand over what I presume is his butt.

“What are you doing to our baby?” My husband wonders as he comes into the living room. He places a kiss against the crown of my head before I tilt my face up towards his for a real smooch. His lips gently connect with mine and I sigh, wrapping my hand around his neck to holding him to me. He just got his hair cut so the strands of his fade feel soft against my fingers. “Mmm.” Kevin murmurs to me as he pulls away. “I’m going to miss these hormones when the baby comes.”

“Oh, you’ll still get them. But there might be more tears than orgasms.” I joke with him, tossing another kernel of popcorn into my mouth.

These last 8 months have both flown and dragged by as we’ve waiting for our first baby to join our world. In preparation, we spent a majority of our downtime putting the finishing touches on our house, including the woodland themed nursery. Our new home and quiet community has given us a chance to prepare for the arrival of the newest Fiala in comfort. The house is massive, more than we need right now, but we already know our plan is to fill it up slowly.

We did a small gender reveal in November with a few friends and family. The reveal consisted of a puck filled with powder that Kevin obliterated in our driveway. The blue powder had barely filled the air before he was next to me, lifting me into his arms and twirling me around. It didn’t take long for both of my brothers to begin pitching their names for our son. Neither of them made the list.

Overall, my pregnancy has been blissfully smooth. I’ve passed all my tests with flying colors. Our baby has been developing in perfect synchronization with all the charts and pregnancy books we can find. My hormones have kept our sex life fairly active even despite the obvious changes to my body. I’ve never felt sexier than I do carrying Kevin’s baby, but only because he reminds me of it every day. There have certainly been annoyances like heart burn, swollen feet, weight gain and constant elbows to the ribs that prevent me from sleeping. But all of that is worth it to me for this perfect, little boy.

“Not having you for weeks after this baby is going to be tough.” Kevin murmurs to me as he sits next to me on the couch. “I hope your mouth will still be open for business.”

“Ha! You wish. I’m not going to want to even look at you after I push this thing out of me.” I say to him, narrowing my eyes playfully.

“We’ll see.” Kevin slowly grins at me as he reaches for a piece of popcorn. He pops it in his mouth and chews it slowly while his eyes smolder at me. The heat creeps up my neck and across my nipples.

“Stop….” I whine at him. “You’re too sexy for your own good.”

“Lucky you.” He reaches for my hand and laces our fingers together innocently. Again, the heat increases and I find myself wiggling over trying to lean into him. Kevin can’t help but laugh at my struggle before he pulls my hip towards him to help me turn over.

“So… uh… that was super sexy…. Wanna bang?” I giggle and kiss his neck.

“No, but not because that wasn’t hot.” He laughs genuinely with me. “I’ve gotta get working on my pre-game nap. You can join me though.”

“I’m not tired.” I mumble to him, wrapping an arm across his abs and attempting to bring myself closer to him.

“You’re not now, but it’s going to be tough for you to stay awake at the game tonight.” He smooths my hair and rests his cheek against my head. His stubble is at just the right length that it pricks my scalp through my hair.

“Ugh.. I don’t want to go to the game tonight.” I say to him. “All the girls look so pretty and put together and then I roll in looking like the Michelin man in a track suit.”

“Babe, that’s an exaggeration.” Kevin soothes me.

“No, it’s not. You should have seen Danielle at the last home game. She looked like she was going to some fancy date night and I had chip crumbs stuck in my boobs all night.” I can feel Kevin’s chest heave as he tries to stifle a laugh.

“Well, I think you’re beautiful no matter what. Your body is a temple.” He gives me a squeeze.

“What baby daddy book told you to say that?” I roll my eyes at him.

“Every single one of them.” He confesses with a snort. “Regardless, I’m not comfortable with you staying home alone tonight.”

“Why?” I ask, pulling away to look up at his face.

“Because you’re 38 weeks pregnant and what if you go into labor here without me?”

“What!? How is this any different than when you go on road trips for 7 days, like the one you have coming up next week?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to bring that up. We need to get this baby out of you before then.” He reaches for my belly and begins to rub it then gently shake it. “Eviction notice!!! Time to come out!”

“Oh, so you can do that but I was wrong for resting a bag on him?” I slap Kevin’s chest, rolling from side to side to get momentum to stand up. Kevin’s hand on my butt offers the gentle boost I need. I grab the popcorn bag and begin to waddle my way around the couch to refill my water.

“If you don’t go to the game, I’m going to be distracted and play like shit. I’ll worry about you.” Kevin’s voice follows me from the living room as I walk into the kitchen. I throw the bag of popcorn on the counter and let out a heavy sigh. Our son is kicking against my stomach and I press my hand into him, trying to guide his foot away from there. If he keeps going like this, I’m going to get acid reflux and start gagging.

“I thought we had an agreement long ago that you play the way you play and I have nothing to do with it?”

“I was being an asshole that day. This is genuine concern for my wife and child.” He calls to me from where he is still on the couch. My top lip curls in petty annoyance at that. How dare he care about us.

“Kev.” I wine at him as he finally wanders into the kitchen. I take in the look on his face. All joking aside, I can tell he is being honest with me. He pouts exasperatedly; his brown eyes turn into doe eyes. I wrinkle my nose in response. “You better make this worth my while by scoring a hat trick.” I finally concede. A large grin pulls his lips apart and he crosses the kitchen like a victorious king.

“I have a feeling I’ll be scoring on and off the ice tonight.” He reaches for my hips and pulls me into him. His lips find mine; I instantly get hot and light headed. When he pulls away, he is wearing a smug grin while observing my flushed cheeks.

“Go take your nap.. asshole.” I quip at him with narrowed eyes.

“I’m your asshole, baby.” He snips back at me playfully before slapping my ass.

Later that night, I’m in the family suite munching on a cookie in the second period, watching as Kevin sprints down the ice on a breakaway. The Hurricanes goalie comes to the top of the crease, watching Kevin for his next move, but I know he doesn’t stand a chance. Kevin fakes like he’s going strong side left, but he goes right and buries the pick behind the goalie’s right shoulder. The goalie slaps his stick in frustrating at giving into Kevin’s move. My husband is oblivious as he brings his stick into the air, thrusts his knee up and lets out an enthusiastic yell.

“Woo!” I answer excitedly, clapping along with the other fans in the arena. My son dances in response to the noise and I press onto the top of my bump to soothe him. As I do so, I can feel liquid beginning to pool beneath me.

Um, am I peeing right now? ask myself. I give a worried glance to Lauren who is settling back into her seat next to me.

“What a nice goal.” She says to me. Her eyebrows pull together when she takes in the look on my face. “Are you okay?”

“Um.. I don’t know if I just peed my pants or….” I look away and concentrate on what I’m feeling. I shift, trying to feel if anything is different. All I can feel is wetness. “I went to the bathroom at intermission though and I don’t think I have to go…”

“Let me check.” Danielle leans down and, bless her, sniffs. The four time mom pulls back and looks at me with a glint in her eye. “No smell. That’s amniotic fluid. Your water broke.”

“Holy shit.” I whisper to her, eyes going wide. My heartbeat accelerates as I begin to panic, glancing down on the ice. Kevin is out again, trolling the left side boards int he offensive zone, looking for his next goal.

“Stay calm. Here is what we are going to do. Lauren is going to grab someone from Hockey Ops who will go to the bench and get Kevin. Then, we are going to get you downstairs to the lounge, grab you a pair of dry pants and you and Kevin are going to go have a baby.” She gives my hand a squeeze as Lauren climbs quickly over the back of the seat to do as she is told. I nod in response and grip my belly, trying to focus on my task of staying calm. “Lauren!” Danielle yells at her. “See if guest services can get us a wheelchair.”

“I think I can walk.” I tell her.

“Honey, your pants are wet. You don’t want to walk to the elevator like that.” She rubs my arm assuringly.

“Yeah, I think this seat is ruined.” I laugh nervously.

I turn my attention to the ice as we wait. Kevin goes out for one more shift where he almost nets another goal. The whistle blows as the goalie covers it. The game breaks for a TCV time out as Kevin leisurely glides to the bench. Dean Evason is standing on the bench, waving Kevin over encouragingly. Kevin stops in front of his coach and is listening to what Dean is saying before he rushes to the second door and begins to run down the tunnel. His teammates slap their sticks against the boards in response.

“Sam, the wheelchair is here.” Lauren calls to me.

I stand up and Danielle walks with me as a guide. I am beginning to feel some slight cramping in my lower abdomen. I work on my breathing in response, even as it feels like my throat is blocked by a large rock. I get settled into the wheelchair and Danielle follows us with my purse.

“We don’t have our hospital bags.” I say to her after the elevator doors have closed.

“That’s okay. Give me your keys and I’ll grab them for you. Where are they?”

“In the mudroom. If you go through the garage they are on the bench by the door.”

“Got it.” She begins to text on her phone and we move out of the elevator. “Let’s go to the family lounge.” She points to the right. We turn and Kevin is there.

“Are you okay!?” He is out of breath, chest visibly heaving, and still wearing the lower half of his equipment, minus his skates. His hair is sticking up every which way with sweat and his brown eyes are wide with panic.

“She is fine.” Danielle answers for me as I focus on breathing through another wave of cramping. “Her water broke and she’s starting to feel some light cramping. She can talk through it so they aren’t contractions yet. But they’re coming. Go get your stuff off and shower.”

“Okay.” Kevin leans down and gives me a soothing kiss.

“I’m good. But don’t skip the shower.” I wrinkle my nose at the smell of him. “ I can’t focus on what I need to do with that smell.” I shudder.

“Okay.” He answers again with a quick nod. He gives me one last look before heading back towards the locker room.

“Wait, Kev!” Danielle yells. “Get Tony. Sam needs clean pants.” She is speaking of the head equipment manager for the Wild. Tony appears a moment later with several different size Adidas pants for me to try. Danielle and I go to the bathroom in the family lounge and I find a pair that work.

“I want to walk now.” I tell Danielle. She nods and sends the wheelchair away. As we are exiting the bathroom, Kevin jogs into the family lounge with his keys in his hand.

“We don’t have the bags.” Kevin looks terrified again and I can’t help the smile that breaks out on my lips. Earlier today, he was shaking my belly to get our boy out. Now, he looks like he would be fine if our son didn’t come today after all.

“I’m going to get them. Just go to the hospital.” Danielle assures him, giving his back a quick rub. “You’ve got this daddy. Just stay calm and get there safe.”

“Alright.. let’s go have a baby.” Kevin grins. Tears instantly build in my eyes as I take his hand and he leads me from the lounge.

“Thank you.” I say to Danielle as we pass her.

“Of course. We are family.” She reminds me and gives me a quick hug. “You’ve got this, mama.”

Kevin and I walk slowly from the depths of the arena to the parking lot. By the time we get to his car, I have to pause and breathe through what I know is a contraction. It’s painful, but not all consuming. I close my eyes and focus as Kevin rubs my back comfortingly.

“Good job, babe.” He encourages me once I stand up straight to get into the car. Kevin closes my door and rushes around to the driver’s side. Kevin pulls out of the parking space and begins the journey to the hospital. I text our midwife. Grace, who has already called the hospital to let them know we are on our way. She will meet us there.

“How are you doing?” He asks once we are on I-94 heading East.

“I’m okay… Glad you made me come to the game.” I joke with him. He glances over at me and we share a smile. “My water broke after you scored. He got excited.” I run a reassuring hand over my belly and close my eyes, trying to relieve the anxiety I feel simmering in my chest. I wish the baby was moving more, but since my water broke he has become still. “I’m a little worried. He hasn’t moved much since this all started. He was really active earlier.” He palms my belly.

“You’re okay, buddy.” Our son responds by giving a kick to my ribs. The anxiety settles a bit after that.

We pull into the hospital and a wheelchair comes out to greet us. Kevin gives them my name for check in and then settles me into the chair. He heads back to the car to park while I get taken to the maternity ward. Grace is waiting for me in our room and she helps me get into the hospital gown. When Kevin enters, the reality settles around us.

“We finally get to meet our baby.” He whispers to me, kissing my lips.

“Yeah.” I answer him with tears in my voice.

Grace begins to check in with me on how I’m feeling, timing contractions, and answering any questions I have. We talk about the baby’s lack of movement and she assures me that it’s not a concern at this time. I’m strapped up to a monitor for both myself and the baby and we are both measuring normal metrics. Danielle arrives an hour after we are settled and gives Kevin our bags.

Even though my water has broken, active labor doesn’t seem to be coming for me anytime soon. Grace suggests that Kevin and I try to take a nap while we wait for my body to move into the next stage. She turns the lights off and tells us she will be back in a half hour to check on me. After shedding his suit jacket, Kevin climbs into the bed with me and wraps his arms around me. His hands grip my bare stomach below the monitor. He releases a heavy sigh as his lips find my shoulder.

“You’re doing great, baby. He will be here soon.” He assures me. I move deeper into my husband and will sleep to come to me. My mind is too active and I find myself imagining our son instead. What will he look like? Will he have Kevin’s eyes? What will it feel like to see him? What will Kevin do? I picture seeing his face and finally getting to call him by his name- Lucas James Fiala.

All of a sudden, an alarm begins to sound in the room causing both Kevin and I to jolt in surprise. Grace enters the room and glances at the monitor. For the baby. We stare at her expectantly.

“It’s the baby’s heart rate. It’s dropped a little lower than we want to see at this point. It may just be that he shifted and the monitor’s having a difficult time reading it. But let’s call the doctor in for his opinion.”

The on-call doctor comes in and they speak in hushed tones together. While they speak, the alarm sounds again. He glances at the readings and doesn’t seem to like what he is seeing. He is going to order an ultrasound.

“It seems to be a correct reading that his heart rate is dropping. So, we are going to get a better picture of what may be going on so we know what direction to go.”

“Should we be worried?” Kevin asks. His expression is filled with concern, matching mine.

“Not necessarily. But we need to see what’s happening to know for sure.”

The ultrasound technician comes in with the radiologist a few minutes later. She squirts the cool, blue gel on my belly. I lay back and we all wait in silence while the tech moves the tool along the baby. I close my eyes because I’m afraid if I look, I’ll see something horrible. The tech seems to be focusing in one spot. Kevin gives my hand a squeeze but I can’t open my eyes to look at him. I’m too afraid.

The tech points to the screen and the radiologist nods. At the same time, the monitor alarm screams again and I jump in surprise. The care team shares a look before everyone leaves the room, so only Grace remains.

“Sam, Kevin.” she begins softly after putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “When we started this journey, I said we would follow your birth plan unless Sam or the baby’s life was at risk. Unfortunately, this is the case. We are fairly certain the umbilical cord is wrapped around his neck so we need to get him out before he falls further into the birth canal. Therefore, the care team is recommending an emergency cesarean. There is an excellent obstetrician on call who is going to perform the surgery. I know this is a big change to what you wanted and it’s scary. But it’s the best choice for you both.”

I swallow as the fear consume me. Our baby is at risk. I am about to be cut open. Grace is right, this was most definitely NOT in my birth plan. The panic begins to close my throat and I have to force the words from my mouth.

“Kevin… can Kevin come with me?” I ask, terrified of having to do this alone. I’ve heard of the horror stories of mothers who have to give birth on their own due to emergency situations. I can’t do this without Kevin. I don’t WANT to do this without him either.

“Yes, Kevin will be with you.” I nod my head in understanding, looking over at my husband’s face. The same deep fear I’m experiencing covers his features. He tries to hide it for me, but I can see it in his brown eyes.

“It will be okay, baby. I’ll be right here.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. I pull away from him and grip my belly with both hands.

“I just want our baby.” I cry to him, tears slipping from my eyes. He stands and leans over to give me a hug, reassuringly whispering in my ear.

“It’s okay. He’s almost here.”

“Kevin, you need to go get prepped for surgery. I’ll wait with Sam.” Grace encourages him to move towards the door where another staff member waits to take him to preparation.

From there, everything seems to happen in a blur. I get an epidural without Kevin which means I cry the entire time. The nurse adds in some additional pain medicine into my IV to supplement. Luckily, things are feeling pretty numb at this point and it’s an extra dosage to ensure I continue to stay that way through the surgery. I close my eyes and listen to the sound of the monitor on the baby’s heart. To me, it sounds strong and steady, but knowing he’s in danger makes me nauseous. I slowly push out a breath, trying to steady my heart rate and blood pressure. I may not be able to deliver him how I want, but I am still giving him what he needs right now.

When we enter the operating room, Kevin is there waiting for me in blue scrubs. He seems calmer than before and so sure as he sits in the chair beside me.

“Everything is okay, Sam.” He reminds me confidently. “He is going to be okay.” I’m not sure if he believes it to be true or if he just can’t consider the alternative. He reaches down and kisses my lips softly. Tears stream from my eyes and he wipes at them.

“I’m scared, Kev.”

“I know and that’s okay. I know this isn’t what we wanted, but this is what we need to do. I’m so proud of you, babe. You’ve got this. There is nothing you can’t do.” He kisses me again and takes my hand. The nurse sets a hair net on my hair and the obstetrician enters the room. She comes to stand next to Kevin and I.

“I’m Dr. Anderson. I’ll be preforming your surgery. Is this your first baby?” She wonders to me. I nod because my tongue feels too heavy to speak. “Okay. Well, I’ve got steady hands that have helped thousands of babies enter this world.”

“That’s good to hear.” Kevin murmurs honestly, giving my hand a squeeze as if to say, see, it’s all going to be okay. I still have my doubts.

“Do you know what you’re having?” She asks as the world continues to prep around us. I feel more at ease as she talks to us. I can hear the monitors confirming my vitals are coming to a normal level. The baby’s heart beat continues to be strong and steady. I’m thankful the alarms have stopped.

“A boy.” I tell her.

“Does he have a name?”

“Lucas James Fiala.” Kevin answers.

“We are going to call him Luca.” I say as the nurse straps the oxygen tube into my nostrils.

“Well, let’s get Luca into the world.” She gives me a steady smile then steps behind the raised curtain. I let out a slow breath to try to calm my returning nerves. It does nothing.

“I feel sick.” I tell Kevin, seriously concerned that the nausea in my stomach is going to turn into projectile puking. My mouth crumples with unshed tears. I look at him, begging for reassurance. I can tell he doesn’t know what to say, but his hand comes to my forehead and his thumb brushes soothingly against my skin. It helps enough that I swallow and steady myself again.

“Sam, I’m about to make the first incision. Before I do, can you feel any of this?” Dr. Anderson wonders as she, assumingely, pokes around my stomach.

“No.” I respond.

“Okay, then I’m going to get started. You will feel some general pressure, but let us know if you’re feeling any sharp pains.”

Kevin leans his head down and rests his forehead on the bed next to me. I turn my head and kiss the top of his hair even though it’s covered with a net. He shudders and I can tell he is terrified but trying his best to keep it together. This is not what we had been imagining for 9 months. We imagined pushing and coaching and happiness. Not this all consuming fear that our baby is in danger. Kevin lifts his head and I take in the pale look of his face.

“Are you going to pass out?” I whisper to him. Grace, who is standing by him, puts a steadying hand on his back, rubbing slow circles.

“You’ve got this, dad.” She soothes him. She stands slightly behind him to catch him incase he does fall backwards. A nurse comes and gives him a cool washcloth for the back of his neck. His color seems to return after they coach him through a little breathing.

“I’m good.” He says sheepishly. He removes his hand from mine and instead places it on my chest where he can feel my heartbeat. I place mine over his and we grow silent together. We look at each other and Kevin gives me a small smile. For the first time, I believe what he’s been saying: I’m not going through this alone. I know he is with me. I know he would take my place in a heartbeat and that he is with me for whatever comes next.

“When he comes out, if he has to go.. you follow him.” Kevin nods in response.

“I will.”

“I’ll be okay.” I assure him. He nods again but I can see the doubt return to his eyes. His entire world is right here in this room. He has no control over what happens to us. He’s powerless as he sits and watches this. My heart aches for him even as my body is going through the trauma of birth. “I’m okay.” I say to him so he knows. He closes his eyes and kisses my shoulder.

“I see a butt.” Dr. Anderson laughs making us smile. New, happy tears spring to my eyes knowing we are seconds away from officially becoming parents. “Sam, you’re going to feel pressure as we pull him out.” I feel it, but it’s all bearable in my drugged up haze. “It is a boy!” She confirms. "Welcome to the world, Luca.” She says as a large wail fills the room.

In that moment, everything shifts for us. My breath catches in my chest and tears fall from the corner of my eyes.

“He looks great, mom and dad. The cord was around his neck but very loose. He is okay.” She assures us, passing him to a nurse as they cut said cord. The nurse towels him off a bit then immediately places him on my chest. He’s still goopy, sobbing and turning red from the shock of being born, but he is absolute perfection.

“Kev.” I say, as I wrap my hands around our baby. “Look at him.” I start to sob back to Luca as Kevin places his hand on mine over our son.

“Hi buddy!” Kevin murmurs to him. “Oh my god, Sam. You did so great.” He tells me. “So, so perfekt…” He trails off because tears have clogged his throat. He purses his lips as drops gather against his lower lashes. He lets out an incredulous laugh, seemingly overflowing with joy as he takes in the sight of us.

“Good job, mom and dad!” Grace tells me as she sticks the booger sucker into Luca’s mouth to pull out any excess fluid. “He’s got some good lungs, huh?” She smiles as Luca continues to wail.

“I know, bud. Being born is really tough stuff.” I coo to him. “Mama and daddy are here. You’re safe.” I tell him, rubbing my thumb over his head that is covered in thick, dark hair.

“How does he have so much hair?” Kevin laughs.

“I don’t know. But he looks just like you.” I whisper to Kevin already knowing how much trouble I’m in if he’s got his dad’s smile. As we speak, Luca has begun to settle deeper and quietly into my chest. I give him my finger and his little hand tightens intensely around it.

The entire world has faded from existence except the three of us. I forget I’m cut open on a table. I forget about the last hour of stress. Nothing else matters anymore, just that we are together, finally having this moment we have been dreaming of. Kevin lays a soft, praising kiss against my forehead.

“Just like you, he was worth every minute of waiting.” Kevin murmurs to me. “You’re amazing, babe. I love you. That doesn’t even come close to describing what I feel right now. But it’s all I got.”

“I love you too.” I turn to him, meeting his gaze with awe. “We made a perfect baby, Kev.”

“You did… Mama.” He nuzzles my nose. “Thank you.” I smile tearfully at my husband and we share another tender kiss.

My eyes stay closed after Kevin pulls away. A grateful sigh moves Luca deeper into my breasts. Kevin’s fingers spread out against mine to help support our son in my drug induced state.

Despite the sounds of the medical team working on putting my body back together, I think to myself, that there is no place I’d rather be than here with the loves of my life.

[jodiie-leighanne]

Sin and Sinuous Part II

This was meant to be the last part, but i have a feeling you will all want a third. So, one is ready just encase. Enjoy :)

Rivers has been back for a month now, and I'm lucky if I get a look in when it comes to Ophelia now it's as if she is oblivious to my existence. Maybe that's it, maybe the bastard made her forget me.

Look, I get you probably have assumptions of the way I'm handling things, trust me I do too. This is new to the whole forbidden love, unrequited affections. It wasn't meant to be this way, it was meant to be me and Ophie, from the day her hues stole my soul, made me willing to sacrifice everything for her. It had to end, what she doesn't know is Lake is aware she was second choice, never the one I wanted. I'm a cunt there's no fluffing it up. I'm married to a sister I'll never love. Daily I have to act as if she is the goddess I would pray to. Whilst hopelessly in love with the other sister, that I cannot pull towards me I have to continue pushing and pushing. She will never be allowed to be mine. Father arranged my marriage to the eldest Jones female; I accepted in a beat. If I couldn't have the one I wanted, I'd settle for second best, I can't let Ophelia move on, I can't let her lead a life without me.

So, I'm her brother-in-law but, still I'm here.

Selfishly I've taken the parts I can get if that means hooking up behind closed doors, slamming every unspoken emotion I have into her with my cock then making her cry after I'll take it.

Our love is toxic, but it's ours. Snapping of digits brought quickly reminded me of my reality

Lake had come home from around an hour ago from a 'business' meeting intoxicated and reeking of cheap aftershave doused in second hand smoke. I, myself, was fairly tipsy at the point I'd pulled out the photo album of me and Ophelia from our short time together, sat down in front of the fire of Jones manor flicking through smiling at what we had. It was beautifully spontaneous. She made it for me the night she caught me on the balcony with her sister. In shock she must have dropped it. I cannot imagine the pain she felt that day, the utter disappointment. You probably already know the Jones family secret, Ophelia is half blood, our families were entwined through business meetings. I never met them until the shared holiday we took. That's how me and my phi began, of course my dad found out agreeing to keep quiet until Abraham Jones - their father decided to spill the beans and that was it our romance was over. I couldn't even tell her, I had to let her catch me. It broke my heart as much as hers. I kept this little piece of us, my wife walked in and found it. Hell broke loose when she realised who really held the flame she couldn't extinguish.

"Draco, are you even fucking listening to me?" She slurred, stood over my seated frame as I tried to avoid eye contact, grazing a finger over the floral bindings.

"What-what the hell do you want now?" I snapped sick of her whiney, she snatched the album clean out my grasp holding it above her head. "Don't you speak to me that way, i am your wife"

I chuckled in an ominous manner, rising to my feet and striding towards her as she backed away. "Act like one then, be seen not heard" laughing she tossed the book into the flames, hues widening as I watched all I had left of us crackling away, fading. The sadness turned to red hot rage. Before I knew my hand rose, striking her cheek harsh enough to whip her head to one side, a cascade of blonde flew to cover the shock on her face as she trembled like a victim. "How fucking dare, you" She seethed, Striking me back with equal force. Shaking my head slowly, biting the inners of my mouth. Digit pointed to the tip of her nose as she wore a victorious smirk.

"Do not lay a hand on me - wife" She scoffed at the hypocritic words; I pushed her hair to one side knuckles stroking the bruises on her neck. "Your neck looks nice by the way, who gave you those?" Her mouth gaped wide, i know she fucks around. She doesn't even bother hiding them anymore. "You'll blow the facade to our parents if you carry on being a slut you know"

Pushing my touch away, she stroked her pink mark flaring on her skin. "River caught you in quite the moment with Ophelia the other day, didn't he? And you think I'm going to blow this?"

"You're a means to an end you know this"

"Fuck you, your nasty little bastard" Lurching towards me again, I placed an arm up to block her. She began punching and swatting whatever she could reach. "We-we are meant to be trying for a baby, we have a duty to our family" A duty to our family? She wants me to bring a child into this. Yes, a month ago when Ophelia overheard us it was something we considered but a lot changed in those weeks. It was never what i truly wanted, not with her.

"I'm not giving you a baby, I'm not bringing a harmless, defenceless life into this fucking shit show" She flinched as I stepped around her edging towards the entrance, swiping a bottle on my way out. "Best get thinking of some lies Lake, this is done"

Thats how I found myself with the pinched drink in one hand, fag in another staring up to the room i know she is in. Phis been staying with River; her parents couldn't care less they never did she wasn't meant to be here. They have been away at their other home for a while leaving their Manor for just me and my wife, not once did they ask about her after she disappeared with River. Nor did they ask about him.

I need to make it right.

The knocks on the apartment door were harsh as I stumbled on the spot, swinging open two wary brown eyes greeted me, eyes I'd come to know so well over my childhood and youth. Eyes I used to jest with, cause havoc with. Once I would confide in when we were destined for similar fates, yet here he stands years on as if I'm public enemy number one.

"Hello Theodore"

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" He sighed, looking back over his shoulder as we spoke, keeping the door as closed as possible to block out the room. "I think you know the answer to that"

"She isn't here"

"That's a lie, her lights on" Once I found out where she had gone, i surveyed the place from time to time. Caught her with a cup in hand sat by the window aimlessly staring into the night. She always said darkness made her feel safe and gave her clarification. Of what I don't know, she would often whisper to the stars. Blushing when I catch her, waving it off as a silly thing she does. Theo sighed again, harder this time eyes cast to the floor.

"Love whose is it? Oh, hell no" River's stare blazed as it bore to mine, meeting equal harshness.

"River calm down" Theo's palm placed on his lover's chest, a new development I wasn't aware of until i began snooping turns out my brother through marriage and my brother through choice grew quiet the connection whilst on a mission for the ministry, I'm not surprised. I know my girl would have accepted this with open arms and beaming glee she never judged or prosecuted. She had time and love for everyone, but me these days.

"Yes river, calm down" I taunted leaning against the door frame, making sure that it couldn't be slammed shut on me.

"You have some fucking nerve coming here, she has been fine without you"

Rolling my eyes i dead planned, "I want to see her"

"No" He stepped in front of the brunette boy, who gave me a look of compassion. Meeting his movements I moved to him, now chest to chest. "I'm not asking"

"You're not seeing her" River's forehead pressed to mine using muscles of his neck to push me back assert his dominance.

"Love maybe you should" Theo pushed to be between us as we now entered the hallway.

"No, you don't get an input in this" His boyfriend barked back.

"River, do not channel your anger at me."

"You're siding with him..."

"Can you have your lovers spat another time please, I need to get my girl", Shoving them out the way so i could slip into the home, that's when I froze there she was hair in a messy bun, a few strands around her face, she is effortlessly perfect. Fiddling with the hem of a baggy shirt that sat above her knees, nervously swaying. Her greens met my blues, and I felt the air in my lungs constrict. "Oh of course you're the reason there's yelling" Her tone was low and venomous.

"Hey baby" I smiled, reaching out for her.

"Don't you dare" A palm slapped mine away, what is it with this family and violence. Dainty digits curled around rivers shoulder pulling him away slightly.

"Theo" Theodore hummed in response, shooting his head up to the girl "take my brother out for a while would you" After many curse words and defiant attempts to stay. They left, leaving just me and her. Not before giving a warning "Touch one hair on her head and i swear mummy and daddy will never find your body"

"Ophie..."

"No, not here come with me" She turned to walk down a hallway; I was hot on her trail. She didn't once look back to see if I was following, she just knew I would.

Turning into a room on the left I realised it was her room, she sat by the bay windows like she had done every time i checked in from outside. I kept my distance perching on the edge of Ophelia's bed.

"Speak then" Caught off guard by her direct approach, she never once looked at me, just fiddled with her nail beds. She always did that when she was nervous, I guess it's time to man up, say it now or lose her forever.

"Baby, look at me" Hesitantly she died, her globes glistened with sorrow. Wetting my lips, I just let the words roll off my tongue, "I'm sorry I never told you there's so much I've kept from you for your own protection, I know it doesn't seem that way, but I promise." I was interrupted...

"Like marrying my fucking sister because your prejudice parents couldn't handle you being with a half blood" Shit, I did not know she knew that. "In a way I get why you married her, to be around me right? To block out potential love for me? To ensure I was faithful and bound to you whilst you are someone else's"

"It's not like-"

"It is exactly like that, you could have said no, thought fuck what they think. You didn't think, what you felt for me wasn't strong enough"

"No, you are wrong" I stood, toeing cautiously towards her, afraid to startle her as her globes remained down.

"Am I?" Water threatened to slip from down her skin as it gathered in the corner batted away by lashes "You are, Ophelia Jones, it's you, you are my muse, the one I dream of praying reality will be similar one day, its suffocating being like this do you think I like bedding Lay whilst all I want is you" Finally close enough to touch her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear she leaned into my palm sighing in contentment, I lowered my mouth to her ear whispering "Run away with me"

"Draco, we can't." She rested her head on my chest, nuzzling into as she breathed in my cologne. "Yes, we can. Give yourself to me baby please"

"You had me, you gave me away. Whatever this needs to end, it has to" She moved back away from me, as I gave in crumbling to my knees, holding her thighs as I pecked the skin, chest hammering. "Please, please, do-don't do this. Fuck I love you" Wavering in my pleas as I sobbed. She fell with me, cradling my torso to hers, "Don't cry Draco, it wasn't meant to be"

"We are endgame, we have to be". In that moment I took our united weakness as a chance, capturing her lips with my own, for a moment she was taken back, her lips rigid against my own. She didn't move, I felt her soften slowly humming into our kiss. It was gentle, intense. My arms sheeted her tiny body hauling her into my lap as Ophelia's arms threaded around my shoulders begging me to be closer, legs wrapped around my hips as I sat in a knelt position. Groaning as she accepted my tongue in her mouth as I swiped for entry. Our muscles danced as each moan of hers was swallowed; it was just us.

Phis hips rolled onto mine as I hardened underneath our barrier of clothes, I could almost scent her the arousal pooling in her knickers. Creating a wet spot, just for me to feast on, the kisses became more hurried, desperate. She tugged at my shirt wanting it off. I separated for a second to obey the need, Ophelia wasted no time riding her own leaving her breast bare, nipples peaked and aroused. Almost flying at her causing us both to tumble to the floor, giggles fled her throat cut off by a moan as I hungrily latched to her nipples. Quickly ridding my boxers as she arches, head thrown feebly attempting to shimmy her underwear down. Skin to skin we meddled as I took her lips again, holding the nap of her neck. Making my way between the plush flesh of her thighs, my cock rubbed her clit causing my head to drop to her shoulder, breathing heavily like this was my first time.

"Do you want this?" I kept myself hovering above her Rocking into Phis core so our sexes would touch. She nodded eagerly, "Use your words baby, let me hear you" I am an advocate for verbal consent, but I also wanted to hear her. Ophelia's voice was intoxicating to me.

"Yes Draco, take me, I want you" No need to ask twice, I lined up my tip up with her opening pushing through, instantly enveloped by wet and warmth. "Fuck, your perfect"

"Give me all of you, I want it all" Smirk, I pulled out slightly only to push back into her harder and we gasped in sync. Bodies remembering one another's as she met every thrust, I gave, hues rolling to her skull.

"Run away with me, be mine", Shivering as I kept a slow steady pace, taking in every pleasurable feeling.

"Yes, I'll go wherever you are" We had barely begun our acts of love, before she was tightening and I was throbbing, we fell apart together. That night, I made it up to her and she reminded me of the hold she has as we went round after round.

After we calmed down, we made a plan.

Another three months had passed since Ophelia and I decided our course of action, I'd filed for papers to leave Lake. Transferred money into a private account. Theo and River were aware it took some persuading sceptically Riv as he is putting one sister's happiness on the line for others. Nether the less, he allowed us to use his flat as our escape and escape we did, weather it was just to be around one another, or carefree fucking and affectionate holds. This is what I want as my forever.

It's the night before our plan to leave, everything's in order my bags are packed ready to leave. When a spark comes from the flu network, stepping it out is my father, mother, Mr Jones and Lake.

She is grinning widely, holding a parchment in her hand, the divorce papers I sent.

"Son. What is the meaning of this?" My father nods to the envelope my wife is clutching with a wiggle of her wrists, fucking bitch knows what she is doing.

"I believe you can read father" The strike of brass hits my right ear causing it to ring within my head, Lucius cane finds its way back to the ground, i look up to see mother in utter dismay as she sends me a pained stare.

"He's leaving me, he has been having an affair with Ophelia" Lay cries out, get the girl an award she is a great actress. "You will do no such thing" Abraham bellows "she is just a whore like her mother that girl"

I snapped within, fist flying at his face, one hand holding his shirt. Mrs Jones fled when she could, leaving her children to deal with this bastard. Only one got what they deserved; the rest were left in the wind to fend for themselves. "Draco, stop it this isn't the way" mums words scored through me as i moved back letting the arsshole drop to the floor.

Straightening up, my father glared at me "You will stay and fulfil your promise, you are not running from this you coward" After the physical and verbal battering of a lifetime, I admitted defeat.

Sulking in my bed chambers, steadily watching the clock tick by as time was running out.  A tap sounded on my balcony window at six in the morning, I knew who it was. Edging to the curtains I pulled them back to see her small frame, covered in large cloaks as the rain beat down around. My Ophelia. Sliding the glass open she stepped through removing her coat. "It's horrid out there sweet, make sure you wrap up, we should probably leave soon." her words halted as she met my sights. Gulping hard, "What's wrong Draco" Eyes scanning over my injuries, taking in the puffy skin and blood shot irises. her lips shook she knew without me saying a word.

"I'm sorry, I am. we -I can't come. I have to stay, me-me and Lake we need to make this work, i can't give it up for a fling"

"No"

"Ophelia I'm sorry it was foolish of us, i need to stay here and be a husband, be a father to potential children" I expected her to scream, hit me, cuss me out she didn't. She nodded, stepping back to the discarded clothing rifling through the pocket pulling out a square of paper. Before extending her hand towards me with no expression she was numb, my brows furrowed as I took it flipping it round to see...

"Looks like you successfully got the wrong sister pregnant Malfoy, Good luck with your life" I stood frozen and broken, tears streaming down my cheeks as she hauled out her wand with a crack she was gone. She and my baby had left me.  

[ladala99]

Pokemon Scarlet - Day 6

Things are seemingly back to normal. No Pearl dream again.

I decided this morning that yes, I was going to use Gible. I’m still thinking for a nickname, though.

It’s Wednesday, which means the Gyms are open! I’ve had my sights on the Water-type one, so that’s where I headed next. I explored the water-filled town of Cascarrafa before heading upwards to the Gym building. Only, the Gym Leader ran out with the receptionist chasing after him because he forgot his wallet. He outran her, though.

I agreed to follow him to Porto Marinada, which meant going through the desert. The receptionist said this would be my Gym Challenge. Along the way, Arlin messaged me that there was a Path of Legends quest in the desert, but it’s Gym day - I’m not doing that today. Maybe tomorrow.

I caught some more Pokemon, but I’m reaching the point where I’m finding Pokemon higher level than my badge boost helps me with. So I’ll have to come back after I beat this Gym.

I reached Porto Mirinada, and which is where some auctions are happening for rare items. I should keep an eye on these, as I hear they change daily and sometimes have some items you can’t get in the region normally. The Gym Leader was after some. . . food item? I don’t recall. As I reached him, his Gym Trainer thought I was causing trouble and challenged me to a battle. I beat him soundly, then finally returned the Gym Leader’s wallet.

He changed up my challenge to be to buy that thing he was after, and he gave me money to use. It was expensive, but I got it, even not using all he had given me. He let me keep the rest and headed back to Cascarrafa where my official Gym Battle would take place.

Everyone hanging around the Gym building were talking about how difficult the challenge was, but they didn’t say what the challenge normally was. I think I got lucky, getting a unique challenge like this.

The actual battle was fairly tough, but Mint did a great job and I got my second Gym Badge and fourth Badge overall.

Along the way, three of my Pokemon evolved! Nacli became Naclstack, becoming more animal-like. Nymble became Lokix, becoming a really fast samurai bug man (he can actually keep up with me now when he’s out of the ball) and gaining the Dark-type. And Shroodle became Grafaiai, a lemur.

I also found another one of those mysterious stakes and pulled it out of the ground, too. Should I have? I have no idea. But I’m committed now so anytime I see one I’ll pull it up.

Looking at the map, it seems that the Normal-type Gym is next for Saturday. I’ll do Arlin’s Path of Legends challenge tomorrow or Friday, and take the other day as a break day.

…

Later, I went back to catch some more Pokémon. It took a bit to find another Ditto, a Pokémon I was particularly excited to find. I wondered whether Ditto would be in this region since it wasn’t in… wait a second. I shouldn’t know other regions.

You know, that’s something I didn’t talk about - when I first headed towards the school, this woman said she could sense memories in my Rotom phone, and she gave me some cases for it based on those memories. I’ve been using one of them - the one depicting a Pikachu and Eevee battling. But she talked as if I should remember those places, and I know I’m the only one who has owned this phone.

Also today I took a few more classes, since the Art teacher and member of the Elite Four asked me to. A few of the teachers had more to say, and honestly the Art teacher gives off weird vibes. Like he wants me to do something nefarious for him. He and the History teacher I’m just going to be wary of.

On the other side of things, I am feeling pretty close to the Nurse. Poor lady wanted to be a teacher, but couldn’t pass her exams to do so. Maybe someday. It’s not like you’re set in your ways once you become a grownup. So many of the students are grownups, after all - I met a guy in the desert who was in his 20th year!