#but now it's all her shit filling up every crevice in the house

[bambiesfics]

𝐄. 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 ♥️’𝐬 𝐌*𝐥𝐟𝐬 ╰₊✧ ﾟ

Part Two — [FIND PART ONE HERE]

ˎˊ˗ SYNOPSIS: You’re a yummy, soft around the edges older lady, with a post-partum body that jiggles in the most delicious ways. Ellie simply can’t get ahold of herself, every time she sees you, her pupils turn into pretty pink hearts, and her clit thumps in rhythm with her beating heart.

ˎˊ˗ A/N: This is a re-upload of my series fic! Part one is already written. But this can be read as a stand-alone!

𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃. She was slammed with mental images of your puffy nipples, straining against that thin pink tank top, or the chubby crease of your ass, spilling out just past the hem of your denim shorts, how the back stitching was digging itself up into the crevice of your……

She shoved the heels of her palms into her eyes and bit her bottom lip hard. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth and teeth with a corrosive warmth. Her bottom lip was red, swollen and had teeth shaped impressions.

What the fuck was she doing here? What the actual fuck did she think she was doing sitting on the curb of the house right next to yours, like some teenage dirtbag? She rolled her eyes. Folding her boney knees up to her chest, to softly blow cold air on them.

It was the only thing that helped the pain, after the faint cuts and scrapes slashed across itched and burned. Each crusted over gash reminded Ellie of how stupid she looked tripping off her skateboard like some fucking peon, 2 hours earlier. And now she was here, decompressing on your goddamn doorway.

As she brushed some of the gravel off her shorts, she was assaulted with the violently embarrassing memories from the skate park. There was no way those assholes at the ramp were going to see her cry, but she wanted to, so bad. Her knees hurt like a motherfucker after she fucked up the landing on her wheelie, and she paid for it with a mouth full of dirt and knees slashed by rocks. Ellie would eat shit like a champ, every fucking time. No matter how bad it hurts.

She wasn’t a kid.

But she sure felt like one now that she was sitting here, ankles crossed and hugging her knees. Near your crib instead of back home, at hers, where she should’ve been. She wanted to tell herself it’s because yours was closer. But it wasn’t, she knew it wasn’t. And yet she was still comforted by the thought.

Her head swung in the direction of your home.

“Nother’ fucking neighbour.”

It was the 5th time it had happened in the past hour. Ellie was tired of cracking her neck to the side, trying to see which person opened their door to leave all for it to be fucking neighbour. And like the previous 4 times it had happened, it was typically some suburban asshole. Like a random dad taking out the trash in Birkenstocks. Likely a lazy fuck who waited for his wife to nag him to get it done. Or it was some brat taking their dog ‘Charlie’ or ‘Bella’ or fucking ‘Fido’ out to take a fat shit on the front lawn.

And again, not one of those people were you.

This is why Ellie’s hedonistic inclination to avoid addressing her feelings head on, but instead choosing to shroud them in convenient excuse after convenient excuse was ultimately, destructive. Because now, she was taking it out on random neighbors and you for ‘gatekeeping yourself’ away from her, while she waited. Probably doing some old lady shit right now like Pilates.

She groaned aloud.

‘Gatekeeping yourself’ isn’t even a fucking thing. Ellie was just in pain, hurt and angered; humiliated. She was mad, at no one in particular. But maybe, herself.

She wiped the fat tear that rested on the apple of her pink cheeks and blew air into her cupped palms. Blowing away the little bits of sediment and gravel that were still stuck there. She repeated the action on her knees, bracing the sharp sting.

She sniffled and leapt to her feet, ignoring the angry rage of pain in her knees, before she dropped the skateboard onto the gravel. Her foot slid on, ready to push off and just fuck off from this part of your neighborhood.

“Ellie!”

“Ellie!”

“Ellie is that you?”

Ellie stopped to stomp on the back of the deck and flip the board up into her hand. You were there peeking from behind the door, holding open the heavy wood with the side of your plush body. You sized her up as recognition bloomed on your face.

God is real.

If there was ever a time Ellie flirted with agnosticism, she was repenting for it while staring at you. Because at that very moment, God was real. Especially because Ellie knew she looked like a grimey piece of shit. She knew she was a runny, mascara-stained mess, with fucked up knees and fucked up posture. And yet you’re here. Supple, mature and womanly as ever looking at her like she’s some little doll. God, why were you waving her over? Stop. Stop crooking your finger like that, please, before she goons in her cargo shorts.

“H-hi I was just skating through the neighborhood and—.”

“Ellie, are you okay? How did that happen? You’re covered in cuts!”

“I’m fine, on god, I just..I…fucked up a trick. got a bunch of these stupid scrapes to show for it” She rubbed the back of her head, sheepish.

“Ellie, you should be more careful next time. Come ere.’”

Your sad pout made her stand straighter.

She wanted to fuck that pout off your face. Or maybe fuck it on your face. Like how sometimes, when girls are fuzzy brained during a painful but good pounding, they get this little look on their face. It’s all sad and pouty and shit.

What she would give for you to have that sad and pouty expression while she carved her cock in you. Choking out moans like…

“Ellie agh slow down!” or “Ellie m’ so full inside. You’re stretching me thin.” or better yet an “Ellie I’m so sore from last night. Be more careful next time..”

She could imagine the last one so vividly she nearly shuddered.

If it wasn’t obvious before, Ellie was a supreme pain slut.

She blinked the thoughts away, and brought her skateboard in front of her crotch. Not that she could get a boner, but it was reflexive at this point. Something she’d picked up from her friends when they would brick up everytime a pretty girl & her friends came to the park.

You closed the distance between you two and wrapped a hand around her fragile wrist to pulled her inside. Ushering her to the nearest kitchen stool to comfortably treat the painful

cuts and scrapes.

A little part of Ellie wondered if you would put your tits in her mouth for her to suckle on, if she whined hard enough for it. You were such a natural at being motherly, doting and worried. You were here in mid-day august, about to tend to some skaters girl’s dumb boo boos. While you probably had better things to do, like watch an episode of modern family, or prep dinner for your family.

She chuckled to herself. Then squeezed her thighs together. Slipping into a fantasy of you supporting her head, as she greedily nursed and suckled from you. Sucking out of each tit until both nipples grew shiny with her saliva and puffy from her greedy suction.

She blinked rapidly to pull herself from the fantasy, and deflated in the stool.

God, what a stupid fucking delusion.

She mewled in the base of her throat as you came back from the kitchen, with a first aid kit in tow. You settled between her knees, gripping the crook of one knee to gently dab pats of alcohol. She winced and grit her teeth, breathing through the fire of the sting. But her pink face and shiny eyes betrayed her weak facade, and your heart ached. Poor baby girl, all you could do was whisper earnest sorry’s in between each dab.

As you nearly finished bandaging the raw skin, you peered up at her, seeing the way her brows knitted up and how she trapped her bottom lip beneath her teeth. Maybe it was the innate motherly instinct, but you felt the urge to kiss the little forehead wrinkles away, and stroke her hair until she was less tense. Despite your nerves, you cleared your throat. “Ellie what were you really doing out there all alone, hmm?”

Her cheeks reddened like a hasbro toy truck. Flaming fucking red, like how Jesse loved to describe it.

“I was at the skatepark with some twink—guys… I usually shred with. But I got winded so I took a rest top…on your lawn.”

“A rest stop huh?” You teased.

The excuse sounded like cheap shit even to her own ears but it was the best thing she could come up with in the moment, with the way you looked so worried. She was just grateful you didn’t notice her about to call her bestfriend a twink. Ellie didn’t want a lecture about bigotry from you, because judging by how clueless you’d been when it came to her attraction to you. That guaranteed you were also clueless about her being a raging dyke.

Ellie whistled “So uh..where’s your kid?”

“At grandma’s.”

Vague. She thought.

“My mother said she’d been wanting to babysit for a while now. So I decided to give myself a little time alone to enjoy the time being, I suppose.”

“I suppose?” God you were a

relic. No one born after the 2000’s speaks like that.

She mused.

“Ah, that’s so hot.” Ellie muttered, seconds before realization hit her and a deeper blush bloomed wildfire on her face. It was becoming increasingly humiliating to speak to older adults like they were her little fruitcake punk friends. You were a proper woman, not a scumbag. Ellie knew her lexicon needed a significant change if she hoped you’d ever take her seriously.

You laughed at her silliness, and patted her knee before walking away to store the first aid kit back in the kitchen. With each resounding thud of your footsteps

Ellie couldn’t help but drink in the way the ripple of your robe outlined your ass. The way the milky, thin fabric practically outlined the dark line that split both globes right in the…

She put her knuckle between her teeth and bit down. God she needed to leave.

You looked back to smile at her. But she was doing it again, not meeting your eyes. Matter of fact her gaze was somewhere else, and your stomach flipped because of it. Her bangs were curled beautifully around her face, and her lips were parted open, she wheezed each breath.

You reached up into the cabinet, to gently place the kit back, and dropped back onto the balls of your feet. Your buttcheeks jiggled with the drop. And you saw her bury a cough into her hand from your peripheral vision. Ellie crossed her ankles together and clamped them there.

Picking up the tray of ginger snap cookies you’d laid out for guests, you walked back towards her. Holding them out for her to take home. Ellie didn’t meet your eyes. Or your face. She pointedly looked at the letter magnets on the fridge.

She blinked rapidly. “Can I just…can I just use your bathroom really quick?”

“Yeah of course, it’s just up those stairs behind you. First door on your left.”

Ellie gave a wobbly attempt at a smile and scrambled off the seat. She stomped two steps at a time up the stairs, a habit she formed when she was a younger teen, she couldn’t break.

She flicked the lights on and took note of the spa-like ambience in your bathroom. The soft shell coloring and warm lighting. The bathroom smelled like you, like your clothes whenever she got real close to you.

She also wondered if you smelled like that down there too. If the scent of your body wash lingered on the inner lips of your vulva. If she split the lips apart, would she get hit with a whiff of your natural musk? Or the floral scent of peonies? She really needed to know.

She also knew she was a pervert.

But she couldn’t help it, you don’t even know how desirable you are, and you weren’t even trying. You were some sweet milf in an average ass fuck suburban neighbourhood, who was making a teen girl go fucking balls-to-the-walls insane to breed you.

Locking the bathroom door, Ellie shoved her low rise cargo shorts and boxers down her hips and dipped two fingers to play in her wetness. She shoved her right finger into her mouth to stimulate the prod of a nipple into her mouth as she ghosted a hesitant left finger over the supple skin of her pussy lips. Teasing the pleasure she was about to feel once she just split them open and rubbed the bundled nub. She sucked a whistling breath through her teeth and tipped her head back against the wall. It lolled to the side.

That’s when she saw it.

Lacy, bunched up, and barely enough fabric to even floss teeth with, was the lavender thong you left neglected in the corner of the bathroom floor. Probably from the shower you freshly took before you met her outside.

She shouldn’t.

She shouldn’t.

But fuck, she did.

Ellie scrambled for your underwear and pulled it apart. Searching for the spot she wanted most. The light reflected against the gentle shininess in the crotch, and she ran the pads of her fingers gently against the crotch, feeling the clear stickiness still left over from earlier.

Stuffing it against her nose she did the very thing that would probably get her put on some type of sex offender registry if you ever found out.

Ellie took a big sniff, and then another, and then another, and then several more until she was high on your scent. The sound in the bathroom was disgustingly wet as Ellie rubbed and slapped her clit over and over. Inching her fingers down to her hole to shallowly thrust and collect some slick before dragging them up again to add slipperiness along her slit. Confined within the walls of your small bathroom were the wet and messy sounds of a girl, getting herself off to your scent. And it confirmed her hopes, this was all your own scent, natural and musky.

Your underwear was permanently pressed up against her caramel freckled nose as she inhaled. She picked up her pace, going from rubbing over her wet clit to tapping and lightly pinching it.

Ellie was a pain slut.

Ellie kept up her feverish actions. And let the degenerate fantasy of rimming your asshole, licking the sweat off of the hole, on her knees, while you prepared some mid-day snacks, tip her gaping pussy hole to orgasm.

“Mommy play with me.” she whimpered pathetically.

God she was twisted.

She came all over her inner thighs. And pearlescent cum rolled down in droplets towards the porcelain of your toilet.

Using your toilet paper, she hastily cleaned herself and pulled her boxers back up.

The mental debate didn’t last any longer than 5 seconds before she shoved your panties into her back pocket and washed her hands. There was no point in her entertaining otherwise, she knew she was a degenerate.

Ellie ran straight down the stairs, the acrid feel of humiliation scratching up the back of her throat and making her head hot. She selfishly snatched a cookie off the flower dessert tray and kicked her deck into her hand.

“Ellie! Wait I got you a snack to take ho-“

She ran out the door and slammed the door aggressively. The glass pane in the window of the door shook for several seconds.

She was erratic.

But then the same door burst open again, and the antsy brunette ran back inside, stomped towards you and smashed her lips against yours. Slotting her lips inside yours and sucking your bottom lip into her mouth. Her hands came up nervously to grip the fat of your ass. Letting some spill between her spindly fingers. Massaging it.

Ellie kissed like a horny boy. When she pulled back, you wobbled into her. She caught you around the waist and let your heaving chests sync together.

But as if she gained sudden consciousness, an awareness of what the fuck she was doing, her eyes expanded wide, and her back went ramrod straight.

She took several steps back and ushered out “Why did I just fucking?—Oh God.”

She ran. She ran so fucking fast she forget she even had the skateboard in her hand. And pounded canvas sneaker to gravel all the way home.

Ellie didn’t know what type of disorder she developed that made her mind blank out, sexually assaulting hot milfs because she couldn’t mitigate a crush on a woman to save her life. But she needed to google a local psychiatrist's office and see how long the waitlist was.

Your mental state on the other hand? Yeah you were left speechless by the brash behavior of the little tomboy. Her aggression, perverted looks and obviously inappropriate feelings towards you left you breathless and reeling.

It could’ve been because it was technically legal, that Ellie thought it appropriate to attempt that sudden kiss. But that clearly didn’t mean it was a sound decision to encourage any kind of relationship. Jesus, did the girl think she was in a porno or something? That you were going to invite her upstairs and screw her brains out, hide her in the closet when your “husband” came back home too early?

There were a million and one thoughts going through your head. Yet every time you tried to plan an appropriate way to address what had happened, your mind was drawing nothing but blanks. And it followed you like that, all the way into the evening. Long after Ellie had ran out, long after you’d said goodnight to your toddler on the phone. And long after the sun had set, after the street lights turned on.

In the thick of the night, you shoved your favorite mini bullet deep until it was snuggled between your sticky pussy lips, warmed by the hug. You’d been vigorously searching for porn videos like “brunette x milf lesbian porn.” And “younger girl x milf lesbian porn.”

The vibrator buzzed on top of your clit, slinging pleasure up your spine while you humped against it. You rolled a chubby nipple between your fingers, and pulled at your tit so hard your nipple ached painfully.

“Nnngnnh” you had to squeeze your hole over and over.

You shakily clicked on a video, a bedroom scene where the babysitter pervertedly creeped on the mother as she undressed, and got off to it. You had an urge to cry, mounted by pleasure. You moaned a sob “Ell-lie.”

A rivulet of drool slipped out from your gaping lips and pooled at the sheets. You watched the brunette pervert turn the milf into a begging slut, pleading to not be fucked like a little whore. And the young one fucked her agressively anyway. Your head was fuzzy. You’d never been so turned on by a video.

You replaced the face of every scene with the brunette with the face of Ellie. With her freckles, plump lips and her tattooed arm.

You just closed your eyes and let the video tip you to a full body orgasm. Your hole was gaping and sucking in air, contracting around nothing for most of the night. Hungry to have some sweaty little girl plug them up with her tongue, or her fingers. For her to stretch the skin there around something, until it was thin. You slept the whole night as your hole gulped in air in search of something to plug it with.

You were going to find that little runt. Drag her back there and have a conversation with her about forcing a kiss on older women, then leaving her to deal with it in a puddle of their own slick.

-fin-

Requested Taglist: @elliewilliamsgf69 , @thesevi0lentdelights , @aouiaa , @endureher , @dangthatsareallyreallylongname5 , @elsbbg , @emilieebabyy , @seattlesellie , @coeurify , @elliesflower

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #the last of us x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou2 #the last of us smut #tlou x reader #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #ellie tlou #the last of us #tlou2 #ellie x you #ellie the last of us #ellie x fem reader #tlou #ellie

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 39- Seeing the Light

Summary: Jo's anxiety takes it's toll on her as she and Lee converse over new upsetting information. EMERGENCY. A race against time takes place. Lee gets a clue. He also gets a huge wake up call and asks someone important a very serious question.

*Warnings* language, angst, anxiety, graphic depictions

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Orlando, Britt, Angel, Margaret

Salem, Massachusetts

March 15, 2023

The smell of maple sausage and pancakes filled every crevice of the haunted house while a morning thunderstorm rumbled on. Lee was cooking Jacob's favorite breakfast food in hopes that it would draw him out again and it was a good way to try, for they say spirits are attracted to things that they loved and are familiar with, such as the house itself. It was the only home Jacob had ever known and you knew that was the reason Lee wanted to spend some time here, hoping to see him again.

You both spent the past two days once again being hermits, wanting to spend as much time as you could with each other before Lee went back to work at the start of next week because then, you wouldn't see as much of him and it was going to drive you bat shit crazy. You were going to have to learn all over again to readjust to the long hours of a doctor's schedule. Although Lee was happy to have his career back in full swing, he wasn't much for celebrating it after the incident with Mr. Carpenter. He truly did feel sorry for the grieving man considering he knew what is what like to lose a child but he certainly didn't feel bad for socking the mourning monster straight in the jaw for his uncalled perverted comment to you. For the time being, you and Lee both thought it best to remain desolate for awhile with so many crazy people on the loose and this time you chose to do so at the home he shared with Jacob...even still.

Lee had kept his promise to you and made sure Ethan couldn't contact him via phone by changing his numbers entirely, both mobile and landline and only those he trusted were permitted to have it. You didn't know what good it would really do though since Elizabeth and Cyrus both worked at the hospital and could easily access that information....and now Lee would have to deal with both of them almost on a daily basis. He had even contemplated changing hospitals but you convinced him to not let them run him out of a place he had invested so many years in and so much time to. Was that the right thing to do? You weren't sure anymore. Everything always seemed to be one step forward and two steps back.

You had spoken to Gerry. Victor was not improving and he feared the worst for the Greek tycoon. What would Gerry and his brother do with that big old mansion all to themselves? For they knew they would inherit it and all the forestry of acres that a small town could be built upon. Gerry didn't even live in the main house. He resided solo in the guest house on the lake that was damn near a fortress all in itself. Anywhere there was water, one would find Gerry for he was an avid surfer and damn good at it.

They certainly would never sell the place since it was a Kiriakis legacy dating back as far as a century or more and Vic would surely haunt them from the grave if they tried, or most likely hell considering his mile long list of sins. You certainly believed in the afterlife now because of Lee's experiences but it actually all started when you met Dave.

Dave was someone you considered quite special in that area. He had a secret that only you knew because he didn't exactly enjoy it, nor was it something easily believed or accepted, but he trusted you, knowing how open you were. Ever since he was a child, he could see spirits and even talk to them and it wasn't always a pleasant experience. It could be down right terrifying as he sometimes would suffer with sleep paralysis in his adolescent years. Dave would be the first to tell you that monsters were real. He never knew why it was happening to him and the older he got, the visits lessened which led him to believe it was just the typical phase of imaginary friends, but when it didn't cease in his adulthood years, he then knew he had a gift of clairvoyance, one he didn't ask for, nor want and working in a hospital where people died all the time didn't help the problem. He would never leave there though. He was too much like Lee, so compassionate and loving of what he did for others. Now, if you could only get him to talk with Lee about it and vice versa, but...it wasn't your place to tell either of their secrets. Except about Liz...if Dave didn't tell Britt, you would. It was for his own safety and Dave could be pissed at you all he wanted.

You had told Britt you wanted to speak to her soon after the whole Cyrus surprise, but now you were sort of avoiding it because after your almost slip up with Dave of mentioning Jason in the present tense, you feared you wouldn't be able to keep it from her of all people, the woman Jason loves and she does him. The more you thought about it all, the more pissed you became at your brother. Britt deserved to know he was alive. She was hurting so bad and you couldn't even imagine such a pain, for if something ever happened to Lee, it would tear your soul straight from your body. Hence, your dream. You couldn't shake it, the feeling of despair in the pit of your stomach. Ethan, Liz, Johnny, Cyrus, even Mr. Carpenter...they all walked about freely to do as they pleased. Sure, you had Jason, wherever the hell he was, and Gerry or Luke, even Craig to handle them if it came down to it but you didn't feel much relief in that because it wasn't like they were standing guard at your door 24/7. All these thoughts raced through your mind while Lee sat to read the morning paper.

"Lee...maybe...maybe Landy wouldn't mind if we stayed with him for awhile since Luke will be there until he finds his own place?" you asked as you both sat at the kitchen table eating a breakfast appetizer, consisting of Lee's favorite cereal...grape nuts.

His crunching stopped as he gave you a befuddled look.

"Ok? baby...why would you want to stay there?"

"I..I don't know. For some...extra security I suppose? I mean...Luke...he has a gun and..."

"Jo...sweetheart. What's going on? Why do you feel we need protection? Besides, Landy only has two bedrooms and...you don't like guns."

"I..I know I don't and with good reason but...I like you being alive more."

"My girl...Jo Jo...is this about your dream again?" he asked as he reached across the table and laid his hand upon yours.

"Some yes...and just everything else...everyONE else. Ethan is going to lose his shit when he realizes, if he hasn't already, that he can't contact you and that means he's going to start coming around. He tried to run us off the road for christ's sake. In broad daylight, so I can only imagine what he'll do now."

"Baby, you wanted me to do something and I did. What else can I do? A civil protection order? It's a piece of paper with NO protection and there's no proof of anything he did except make a few unwanted phone calls to even get one granted. Ethan lives to break the law. It won't stop him but I'll do it if it makes you feel better."

"Damn it!!!" you shouted and grabbed your coat as you went out to the porch swing with Lee immediately following.

"Babe, hey, hey. We'll figure this out. He hasn't even been around lately. Maybe he really likes your sister and will move on. I know, I know, that's far from comforting but as we know, stranger things have happened. You gotta admit, they're a match made in Hea...Hell." he snickered as he sat beside you and smiled.

And of course, Lee made you smile. He always could even when you didn't want to.

"Yeah...I suppose you're right and...I kind of feel Mr. Carpenter is going to be more trouble than Ethan. Gerry texted me this morning. I guess he went to the police station raising hell about what happened but Gerry said no worries, that he handled it and it just looks like it was a revenge tactic over losing the negligence claim. Gerry also did some digging on him. He's been arrested multiple times for domestic violence with the mother and alcohol was always a factor. And get this...his daughter, Henrietta, that he is so upset over...she was a victim of it as well, but would never "tell" on him?. He has a son too who's always in trouble."

"Wow...it...it almost makes me think...."

Lee stopped and stared at you in thought for a moment.

"Lee? What is it?"

"Well...it's just that...Henrietta had meningioma. It's the most common type of primary brain tumor. Most cases are benign, which hers was, but it grew quite large and became life threatening....but the thing is....there's some studies that link head trauma with this type of tumor."

"Oh my god...do you think that her own father...could have caused that?"

"I don't know Jo. I suppose it don't even matter now."

"Oh yes it does because now we know what he's capable of Lee. He's a control freak and when people like that don't have it, bad things happen. I know the kind. And...how did he know so much about all of us? A lot of what he said wasn't exactly public information."

"Yeah, you're right. My guess would be he hired a really good P.I....or....Liz?"

"I really wish I knew where Jason is right now. He could literally make it all go away. I can't believe I'm even talking like this but Mr. Carpenter's angry, he's violent, and he drinks. If he knows all of that, he knows where you live. I don't like this Lee. God, when...when Lee, will it ever end???"

Lee watched as you angrily wiped your tears away and then his eyes fell. It was killing him inside to see you so distraught. Things were supposed to better now, not worse. You were supposed to feel safe with him, not afraid. You were afraid, yes...but not for yourself.

"I'm so sorry Jo." he softly and solemnly whispered. "I should have never attacked him. I just made everything worse, but...I..I couldn't help it. I'm not a confrontational person, you know that but when he began to say things like that about you....I..I just snapped."

You brought your hand to his face which coaxed his shameful eyes up to yours.

"Hey...I'm not angry with you. You did nothing wrong baby. I wanted to do the same thing for the way he talked shit about you. He is so incredibly wrong...and I...I tried to let it go because he's grieving but you know what? Knowing what we know now, I honestly don't think it's all about that. I truly think the man is deranged and I don't think he's going to just walk away, especially now that the police won't do anything. I think he wanted you to go after him, to try and show his unwarranted claims about you. But this is not your fault Lee. I mean, you certainly didn't know Gerry was going to do what he did. Hell, neither did I. Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to arrest you because he is definitely a law abiding citizen and cop."

"I appreciate what Gerry did. I really do but Jo...I still shouldn't have hit Mr. Carpenter. I let him pull me down to his level and I think it's exactly what he wanted, just as you said. I don't know Jo, who am I to judge him? I did some pretty fucked up shit when I lost Jacob and I just continued to do it all these years later. Look what I did to you?"

"The ONLY thing you will ever have in common with that man is the loss of a child. Your pain is genuine. His is like some kind of vendetta. I could see it in his eyes. There's something severely off with him and I'm usually spot on about gut feelings with people. Even Ethan. He completely rubbed me the wrong way when we met until you....I...I don't even want to talk about him anymore."

"Until I stupidly defended him? Telling you he was a good guy when I knew damn well what he was like and I kept all of that from you and I damn near lost you over it...."

"Lee, please stop punishing yourself... what he did to you...I understand it all now and...and......."

A familiar feeling rushed over you. Lightheadedness and warmth.

"Jo...baby??? Your nose..." Lee frantically said as his arm reached around you, securing you in place.

"What? Oh...oh gosh..."

You brought your fingers to your nose, in shock to feel and see the hot red liquid seeping out of it.

"Let me get you something, don't move."

"No, no Lee. I have a tissue in my pocket. It's fine. Really."

"No, it's not fine Jo. You said this happened at your mom's too. Baby, what's going on?" he direly asked as you dabbed away at the annoying and embarrassing leak.

"Tell me Jo. How long has this been happening?"

"Lee...it's just a nose bleed. You don't need to go all 'who's the doctor mode' on me."

"Don't. Don't do that. I WILL play the doctor card because that's what I am and I happen to love you as well."

You squished the kleenex against your nose and began to sob.

"I know" you squeaked. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't do that either. Don't be sorry. Come here sweet girl."

Lee pulled you into his arms, kissing your head as you continued to cry. "Here...lean your head back on my arm. I've got you."

You gazed up at him as he cradled you like a child and took over the tissue dabbing. His lips softly smiled as his shining sapphires danced inside your sunsets with such love and then he kissed the tip of your nose.

"Let me take you to the hospital. Just to be checked out."

"Lee, no. I am fine right here with you. It's stopping. I'll be fine. I'm just stressed, which is when it seems to happen."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Here's the deal. If it happens again, I'm throwing you over my shoulder like a caveman and you're going."

You couldn't help but to burst out in laughter.

"Well you could just do that anyways and take me upstairs instead." you said with a seductive grin.

"Ohhhh....so damn tempting...but no. Babe, I think you need some rest. Come on. I'll make some hot sleepy time tea and we can snuggle on the couch with a movie and our cold pancakes and sausage, yes?"

You giggled. "Cold is better than burnt. But, yes. That sounds good. The microwave will work. You do that and I'll do the tea. I haven't managed to burn water yet."

"Is that even possible?" Lee asked with a hearty laugh as he followed you to the kitchen, pulling a hoodie on over his shirt from being chilled by the outside rain.

"We're about to find out."

Lee let out a sigh and made the sign of the cross and then flinched with a chuckle as you playfully smacked his arm.

As the water came to a boil, you thought about how much you loved these sweet little moments with him and wished it could be like that forever. No more worries, just lost in each other like high school sweethearts. You used to think challenges made you stronger but that couldn't have been further from the truth now.

You poured two cups of the piping hot herbal liquid and took them to the table as Lee finished up plating the food. During the process, you felt something trickle down your neck and heard a clinking noise on the wooden floor at your now bare feet. It was your silver chained "forever" glass seashell necklace that Lee had given you and it was just enough to set your superstitions and stress levels into high gear.

"Noooooooo...no..no..." you squealed as you knelt down to pick it up.

"Babe?? What is it??"

Lee quickly set the plates on the table and rushed to your side.

In a soft, child like whimper, your voice stuttered out as your eyes gaped with oncoming tears.

"Your...my...neck...necklace...it...it...it's...it broke...it just...fell..."

"No, no baby, it's alright. Let me see it."

Your trembling hand allowed Lee to remove it and look it over as you stood anxiously biting your bottom lip.

"My girl, it's just the clasp. I can fix it baby, don't worry." he assured you in the kindest voice and stroked your hair.

"It's not the clasp! It's the small chain links beside it. They must have snagged on my sweater. It's broken Lee! It's some fucking omen and don't tell me I'm crazy after everything."

"Jo Jo, sweetheart, please calm down. I promise you I can fix it and..."

"That's not the point! It's a symbol of forever and now it's a sign that it's broken!!" you cried, now chewing at your nails as you stared at the jinxed jewelry.

"Josie, baby! Look honey, the glass didn't break. Forever is sealed safe and sound inside. Sit down and sip your tea. I'll go fix it right now alright?"

"O...ok..." you replied in a frightened whisper and did as he told you.

Lee had only been gone a few minutes but it seemed like hours. You swore you could hear the grandfather clock ticking from clear in the other room. What the hell was happening? You couldn't relax. The sound of your heartbeat was now becoming the prominent sound, thumping through your head. You picked up your ceramic mug with unsteady hands and without thinking, you took a gulp of the boiling brew. The scold to your tongue sent you flying out of the chair and the mug shattering on the floor.

"JO!!" Lee shouted and came dashing up the stairs from the basement to find you shaking and clinging to the kitchen counter with broken shards of the mug at your bare feet.

"Baby don't move!!"

You couldn't if you wanted to. You felt paralyzed as the pressure in your head pulsed like storm waves crashing on the beach. Suddenly, Lee was hoisting you up and moving you to a dry, hazard free zone when your nose began to bleed again and you fell limp in his arms.

"Jo baby!! Baby what's wrong???!!"

When you didn't and couldn't answer him as you stared blankly into his petrified eyes, he scooped you up and rushed you out to his car, placing you into the front seat and tilting it back, then he sped off.

"Baby, can you hear me??" Lee pleaded multiple times as your eyes fluttered to stay open. His voice echoed as if it were inside of a seashell and your hand was numb to the touch of his. You heard the train horn again and saw the bright light coming towards you and then...you saw Jacob again, smiling with his big blue eyes beaming up at you as he took your hand. Then the light went dark.

"JO!! Fuck...baby wake up!!" Lee frantically shouted as his fingers raced to your neck to feel for a pulse. It was there but faint.

"That's it baby doll, stay with me!! Don't you fucking leave me. Forever baby...forever. Do you hear me?? Breathe Jo....breathe."

Lee was now fighting his sobs as he struggled to drive but he knew he had to focus to get you to the hospital safely. He freed his android from his pocket and used the voice command to call Orlando.

"Ok google, call Orlando!"

"Showing results for Orlando, Florida."

"Not fucking Florida you stupid piece of shit!" Lee shouted and then swerved as he heard the loud bellow of a semi horn and looked up to find himself in the oncoming traffic lane.

Lee whipped back into line, trying to catch his breath as he just missed the truck by only a few feet.

"Shit...focus Lee!" he scolded himself and then remembered that he didn't even have Orlando listed under his given name.

"Ok google, call LANDY!!"

"Calling Landy."

"Come on, pick up, pick up Landy!!"

"Hey what's up Lee Lee the Bee Gee."

"Lando! Man, where are you?? The hospital??"

"Yeah, Lee? What's going on?? You sound..."

"It's Jo man...I'm on my way there. She...she just collapsed."

"Oh my god what?? I'm on my way down to the ER now. Where are you?? Is she breathing??"

"Yeah..yes....thank god. I'm about ten minutes away and....no. Fuck."

"Lee??!!"

"I gotta go man, there's a fucking train coming and I have to beat it."

"Jesus, Lee. You need to calm down and....L..Lee???"

Lee dropped his phone and put the pedal to the metal on his classic Dodge Dart as the gates were starting to come down.

"Not today train. You can't have her too!!"

Over the tracks he sped, luckily with no cars in his way as the gates missed his car by merely inches. He caught sight of the train in the distance, the large headlight blinding his widened eyes as it blared it's deafening ominous horn.

"WOOHOOO! We made it baby!" Lee reeled as an adrenaline rush flooded his body. "We're going to make it. You are going to make it. I love you, do you hear me???"

The tires slid as he whipped into the emergency room parking lot and then he came to a screeching halt at the doors, quickly abandoning his car as he carried you inside.

"HELP!! Help!" Lee called out to whomever would listen as he searched for Orlando.

"Lee!!" Orlando shouted as he came running out from a room he had being prepared for you. "Bring her in here!"

Britt rushed in as well as Lee gently laid you upon the bed, scared as hell to let go of you.

"It's ok baby. I'm right here Jo Jo...you keep breathing, do you hear me?"

"Lee, tell me what happened?" Britt asked as Landy began tending to you with another nurse.

"I...I...don't know. She...she had a nose bleed. She said...she said she had one before, about a week ago. I got it to stop and she swore she was fine and she seemed fine and then she just collapsed in my arms and..."

Lee bent over to lean on his knees as he himself was trying to breathe.

"Alright. Anything else you can think of? Did she mention any other symptoms? Did she take any medications?"

"No Britt. Nothing. She's...she's stressed out, that much I know. We found more things out, disturbing things about Mr. Carpenter and that's when she got the first nose bleed today and then...I don't fucking know. Her necklace broke and she became all anxious about it and the next thing I knew, this happened. She...she just stared at me. She couldn't speak. Britt, what if she had a stroke??"

"Ok..ok. Let's not think the worst. I'm going to order labs, a CT and start an I.V. and we'll go from there. Dr. Bloom, how's her vitals?"

"Her blood pressure is high. 175/80. Oxygen is normal. Pulse rate high, pupils constricting."

"Ok. Let's get her blood work and get her on some fluids, then take her down for the CT. Lee, I need you to wait in the waiting room please, while the nurse..."

"What?? NO! I'm not leaving her Britt! Let me help. I'm a fucking doctor for christ sake."

"You're not her doctor nor are you on duty and you're in no state of mind to assist. You're too close to this Lee and you need to give the nurse room to work without you hovering. You know the rules and how this works. She's in good hands. I'm sorry but you need to let us do our jobs and go collect yourself. You're no good to her like this."

"Fuck your rules Britt. She needs to hear my voice and know I'm here! You're too close to this too, so is Landy!"

"Look...Lee. I know how much you love her, I really do, which is why you can't be objective. I love her too and I promise you she will be taken care of and we will come get you as soon as we get her situated and know what's going on. Now please...go try and calm down, maybe call her mom."

"Lee. man. I swear it. I'll take good care of her. You know I will." Orlando assured him and gave his best friend a hug, which caused Lee to break down.

"I'm scared man. I'm scared to leave her. I've never been so scared of anything in my life. I can't lose her. I can't....just...just let me talk to her for one minute. Please."

Orlando smiled and nodded as he patted Lee on the shoulder. By this time, the nurse had the I.V. line all taped up to your wrist and was drawing your blood as he went and tenderly held your other hand.

"My beautiful sweet girl. If you can hear me, I need you to know that I will just be right down the hall. I swear I will never leave you. You're my entire world so you can't leave me either ok? I love you Miss Massachusetts, in ways you've never been loved, for reasons you've never been told, for longer than you think you deserved and with more than you will ever know existed inside me. It's always been you. And I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you all over again."

You heard him. Every word but you couldn't open your eyes or speak, but you did manage, with everything inside of you, to lightly squeeze his hand.

Lee cried and kissed your cheek over and over and then he placed one small soft kiss upon your lips as he whispered "forever" over them. He then reluctantly let go of your hand and sobbed all the way to the empty waiting room that he was very thankful for.

He paced about the large room, stared out the window for awhile and then he was startled awake by someone's touch.

"Hey. Lee."

"Jo??...Oh....sorry. Is she..."

"She's fine, awake and has been admitted for observation." Nurse Angel, his neighbor, told him.

Lee closed his eyes and sighed loudly in relief. "Angel...what...do they know what happened? Can I see her now?"

"In just a few minutes, I'll take you down. They're just settling her into a room. I'll let them tell you what they found. I just got on duty and heard what happened, so I came looking for you at Dr. Bloom's request. He said to tell you he had your car parked and he has your keys and he will be back to see you both when he finishes rounds."

"Oh...yeah...I..I forgot all about my car. God, I don't even remember falling asleep. What time is it??"

"It's 11 am."

"Jesus, it's been two hours?? You..you said she's awake. Did you see her at all? How did she seem?"

"Well...she was sitting up and definitely asking for you, so I'm guessing she is alright, nothing too serious. Hey, I heard all about your hearing the other day. Congratulations and welcome back. We've missed you something awful. It has definitely not been the same without you here. Don't let Mr. Carpenter get to you. He's just sad. That poor man. I guess that his marriage is on the fritz. He told me a lot about Henrietta and how close they were. I couldn't imagine losing a child. Dash means everything to me. Oh god...I...I'm sorry Lee, that was so insensitive of me to say to you."

"No. It's fine. So uh....Mr. Carpenter spoke to you about her...and..his marriage??"

"Oh...I...umm. No, no. He talked a lot to all the nurses. Trust me. I just overheard things. You know, the gossip and stuff. I just wish he wasn't hell bent on making you suffer. It's such a good thing you have Jolene to help you through it all."

"It's Josie...remember? and yeah...I'm pretty much his scapegoat it seems."

"Oh gosh, that's right. I always get her name screwed up. So, what do you mean by scapegoat? I thought they ruled out any wrong doings from the autopsy and that no one caused it?"

Lee gazed at her for a moment and something began to click regarding the conversation you and he had earlier about someone leaking personal information....and Angel knew more than she should because of Liz.

"Nah, it's nothing. I don't even want to talk about this really. Can I go see Jo now?"

"Well, if you ever want to talk about anything at all, I just live right next door. I miss seeing you. So does Dash. So, yeah, come on. I'll take you to her."

Angel then led Lee out of the waiting room and down the hall, lightly rubbing his back as she did so.

The minute the door opened, Lee's anxious eyes and yours immediately connected as he paused his steps, then he bolted right to your reached out arms, both of you crying as you held each other so tight for the longest time.

"My god, my girl." Lee gasped in and kissed you all over your head and cheeks as he held your face. "Are you ok??? Please tell me nothing is wrong. I've been out of my mind. They, they wouldn't let me stay with you and....god I love you so much, I...I don't ever want to feel that way again." Lee sobbed, his tears freely flowing.

"Heyy, shhhh. I'm here. You're here. All is right again." you whispered with compassion as you also held his face and then kissed his tears.

"I'm so sorry I scared you like that. I swear Lee, I felt ok and then all of a sudden, I didn't. I don't know what happened."

"Where's Britt? Did she tell you anything? Jo, I was so scared that you had a stroke. You couldn't speak to me. and you passed out and I drove like I never did before to get you here and..."

"Baby, try to calm down. I know what you did for me. Landy told me...and...I could still hear you Lee. Your voice is what I focused on. Britt was here yes. Obviously, it's no stroke, thank god. I'm getting my fluids with added electrolytes. I was moderately dehydrated and my blood work also showed that I have an iron deficiency."

"You're anemic? Makes sense Jo. Your diet has not been the greatest lately and then there's the blood loss from the nose bleeds. Is that....all...it is?"

"Well, of course it's my anxiety and stress too. Hence my blood pressure spike, but it's normal now. Good old Britt saying I need to reduce my stress levels and take my meds. Easier said than fucking done when she don't know how much worse they make me feel, nor does she live in my world of psychotic people. And to top that off, my mom is on the way and I'm stuck here for at least another day."

"Sorry baby. I called her earlier and left a message. I...I didn't know what was going to happ..."

"Lee, it's ok. I love you so much for taking care of me and everything else. You know you saved my life."

"If I had been alone...god, I don't even want to think about it....OR the train you tried to beat."

"Yeaaah uh that...well, I DID beat it. I had to try Jo. The rails were still lowering and I could see the train and..."

"Ok, ok, enough about trains...please. I get it though...I would have done the same for you. Love makes us crazy huh?"

"Mmmm yes it does. Come here."

Lee gave you a series of soft and short deep kisses and then moved up to sit beside you, placing his arm around you and pulling you to his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

"Welp...if you're a prisoner here for another day, so am I. You're stuck with me so don't even try to make me go, for it would be futile."

You peered up in his worrisome blues with a most critical look.

"I like being stuck with you. I don't want you to go. Ever."

"What if I have to go to the bathroom."

"You giggled and kissed him. "I guess I can allow that....and maybe to go sneak me some sugar."

"Nope. It's all liver and spinach dinners for you."

"BLECKKKK!!! Lee Pace, that's not even funny. They already brought me a tray of turkey, peas, peaches, wheat bread and...wait for it...prune juice that I haven't touched. Like...I'm pretty sure I'm not constipated....now that part IS funny."

"It was just a little bit funny to see you frown that cute ass frown that I thought I'd never see again. You know? Kind of like a prune." he chuckled. "I promise, I will make you better dinners when we blow this popsicle stand, but babes, you need to eat...for me please. Especially the juice."

"I just want to go now and lay in bed with you and eat your food. I already feel better and I have my own personal doctor...you."

"Yeah well that's the fluids giving you that boost. I don't want you here anymore than you want to be here, but I really feel it is best. I can lay in bed with you here. I'll probably take up the entire bed but you can lay on top of me."

Lee's grin was deviously adorable but quickly fell flat as your mother came bursting in with her anxiety and scarlet hair a fray.

"Josephine Leeann! What in the world happened sweetheart?? I didn't see Lee's message until in the middle of my hair appointment and I had to leave looking like this!"

"Mom...mom....calm down. I'm fine as you can see."

"You're not fine! You're in a hospital bed AGAIN! How can I calm down after what happened to Jay??"

Your heart sank. Damn your brother for doing this to all of you. DID he even know you were here? You just wanted to blurt it out that he was alive, but then she would just think that you were delusional and high on meds....and it would break her heart too. You decided that Jason would have to be the one to do that....once again.

"I know Momma. But I swear...ask Lee...I'm ok."

Lee took a moment and sat with your distraught mom, filling her in on everything, in which she then seemed to relax some after his gentle way of words. She liked Lee a lot and trusted him, especially knowing your dad had once been Lee's colleague and Jacob's pediatrician. You could see the respect in her eyes and that meant the world to you....because if Margaret March didn't like someone, they would know it.

"Thank you Lee. I tell you, my kids are going to be the death of me." she said, rolling her eyes with a soft sigh.

"MOM, don't talk like that."

"Well, YOU don't have to live with Megan anymore for one thing. All that damn smoking in the house that she thinks I don't know about and in and out at all hours of the day and night like a freaking cat. The girl can't even pick up a broom to earn her keep."

"She can sure ride one though." you snarked, making Lee lower his head to hide his smirk.

"Hilarious Joey Lee. You know, nothing's the same anymore. You're gone, Jay's gone, your dad's gone. Bo's gone and Megs only cares for number one. At least one of my sisters still comes around. Livvie was asking about you the other day. Oh, and Gerry called me about Victor too. He's not doing well. I...really want to see him...but...well anyways, I'm pretty much alone anymore."

Margaret paused. You knew she would feel guilty, like she was betraying your father all over again.

"I know Mom...but you're not alone. Our family is bigger than the state of Texas even though most are scattered all around. Olivia will always be there. I'll always be there. I'm sorry I haven't been lately though. I've just had a lot going on. I was at the house last week but you weren't home."

"Yes, I know. I found your note and your half eaten sandwich that Marmaduke was about to devour when I walked in. He needs a bath, which he hates by the way and I can't handle that big oaf. Smells like a horse's ass. What's with your car in the garage anyways?"

"Its... just temporary until..."

"Until I get my garage cleaned out and then she can store it there." Lee cut in with a hidden wink at you to save you from trying to think of something other than the truth.

"I'm so glad the two of you met Lee and that you're always there for my little girl, especially today and getting her here so quickly. It's such a bonus that you're a doctor too. Maybe you can get her to take her medicine for once so this don't happen again. Oh! I saw Amy on my way in. She says she'll be in to see you and Em is coming too. I suppose Gerry is around here somewhere. I don't know if I should go see Victor or not. I told Megan but, well you know how that went."

"I don't want her here anyways. I need to be stress free, remember?? Every time I see her face, all I want to do is..."

"Ok Josephine...don't remind me how my only daughters despise each other."

"Sorry mom. You should go see Vic. Maybe it would help him if he knows you're there? It's ok mom, to do that. I know what he means to you."

"Do...you really think it might help him? I..I mean, I really would like to go."

"Go mom. Don't put these things off. I have Lee here with me and it seems it will soon be grand central station here as well cause Britt and Orlando will be here too, so I'll be ok."

"Welllll....I....I suppose I could...just for a little bit...but I'll be back Joey. I love you." she said and came to kiss your cheek.

"Love you too Ma. If Vic is awake, tell him I hope he feels better soon and please don't tell him about me being here. He don't need to be worrying about anything."

"Come on Margaret, I'll walk you out and point you in the right direction. Be right back sweetheart." Lee sweetly smiled, then mouthed 'I love you' as he led your mom out in the hall. It made you so happy to see the growing bond they had because you knew how much he missed his own mother.

"Margaret...can I...talk to you for a moment?" Lee quietly said after he closed the door.

"Sure Lee. Is everything alright? Is there something you didn't tell me about Joey?"

"Oh no, all seems to be ok now...but...I...hmmm...I umm..."

"Lee? What is it? You seem awful nervous?"

"Whew." he softly sighed, then began. "Well, I'm sure you already know what Jo means to me. But I just wanted you to hear it from me. I love her...so very deeply and I...I had one hell of a wake up call today and it put some things into perspective. Like Jo said...don't put things off. I...I can't imagine a world without her in it, without her in mine. I just don't want to waste anymore time. But I do...want to waste it with her if that makes any sense. I guess...umm....what I am trying to say is..."

Margaret interrupted with a gasp. "Oh my...why Lee...are you....are you...asking for my daughter's hand in marriage??"

Lee stared at her blankly for a moment and then a huge smile formed on his lightly trembling lips.

"I....yes....yes I am."

@redeemer46

#lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #code blue #jolee #doctors #love stories #dark fiction #dark stories #fantasies #fairytales #angst #orlando bloom #orlando bloom fanfiction #Youtube

[xoxo-bunnydumpling]

When I tell you my grandparents went with us to the beach I mean they rode there with us and then promptly abandoned us to eat clam chowder in bread bowls at an overpriced cafe and look at antiques. They had a lovely time and I'm glad.

Eli and I, however, hosed each other down with sunscreen, froze our asses off in the water, and both got very highly freaked out by being touched by seaweed. Neither of us had been to an ocean beach in a very long time and our spot at the lake nearby our house has been engineered for recreation (it used to be a boat ramp and has been filled in a lot so there are no hidden death holes to fall into).

Speaking of hidden death holes...both of us kind of forgot that at some point there's a drop off. At the lake, you can wade waist deep for quite a ways. Friendly little lake. The ocean has murder on it's mind though and we both had moments where we just kind of dropped into the abyss. Probably not that deep but still.

We met back up with my grandparents and my grandma asked when we were going home.

"Never! Ah ah ah!" Eli is The Count now...I'll accept it.

She rolls her eyes, but still laughs. "So, soon?"

"I thought we could stay here. I could juggle on the boardwalk for cash. Bread bowls every day. Welcome to your new life!" My grandpa is nodding along with him like he's considered this retirement plan before. "...or we could stay in the rooms I booked in the hotel down the road. Whichever...you'd prefer."

I'm expecting a grotty couple of rooms at The Ramada which, I don't know...I like hotels so even a gross room is kinda fun to stay in for me. But this place immediately makes me nervous because it's a little fancy and our rooms have balconies and holy shit you can see the ocean from up here!

My grandparents are down the hall from us and not next door. By design, as it turns out.

"I just thought..." His hair is still wet, he managed to get just a little color, and he looks incredibly relaxed when he winks at me. "They know you're pregnant but maybe they don't need to hear a recreation of how it happened."

"Do I have time to shower the sand out of my crevices?"

"Mmm...no. Come on, sensation play!"

When I'm in the shower I hear him call down to the front desk and ask them if they have brushes instead of combs in the gift shop and it sounds like he has a friendly chat with the person who answered the phone.

"I mean, you don't have to. Don't trouble yourself really. I'm sure you're very busy, I can pop down and get one...okay, well thank you so much I appreciate that." Unfailingly polite at all times, even when sun-drunk and highly amorous. Waiting for a brush to arrive keeps him out of my shower, but when he gets out of his he takes said brush away from me. He sits against the headboard and pats the space between his legs on the bed, with every intention to start with brushing my hair and see where that takes us.

"Be a good girl and sit."

"Can I get dressed first?"

He huffs a laugh, and almost falls out of Big Daddy mode. "It throws a wrench into several of my plans but you know I won't stop you."

I do know that. I like that. So I sit...I can get dressed in the morning.

#hot librarian chronicles #husband material #beach trip #vaguely spicy

[kvbikiri]

Wonder how it feels to fail your so called friends all those years ago, letting them become monsters.

Demons are not just people or figures or ideas—they're impulses that live inside you, searching ceaselessly for a way out.

“You damn monster!” Sumiko Sarugaki shrieked. She kicked Hiyori in the stomach over and over again. Not once, but twice, but three times. Even at a very young age Hiyori was being called a monster, never knowing what she deserved to be called a monster. Maybe it was a curse to be born. Her mother reminded her every single day she shouldn’t have existed, that she was better off living on the streets if her mother didn’t need a punching bag to forget her own miseries. The Sarugaki household was a mess, horrendous, with strewn and littered crushed beer cans, broken whiskey bottles courtesy of Sumiko throwing them at her children for sport. It was a miracle Sumiko hadn’t choked the life out of Hiyori or her sister after they’d been born.

Sumiko grabbed Hiyori by the hair so hard she bruised her scalp. “I told you to never leave this house! What are you trying to pull over me, huh?! You’re never leaving this place you hear me!!”

“I’m sorry mama,” Hiyori mumbled before being thrown to the wooden floor, her weight cushioned by trash of crushed cigarette butts and crushed beer cans.

“I’ll kill you brat. Don’t you ever sneak out of this house ever again. “ Hiyori believed her, far as she knew, her mother never lied about a thing like that. It was Hiyori’s greatest fear. Then again maybe death would be a blessing considering the hell that was suffered in the Sarugaki household. Monster. That word was about as familiar as her gothic childhood, familiar than her own name, and definitely the biggest bruise she had carried. There was that voice crooning to her like the devil.

“Wonder how it feels to fail your so called friends all those years ago, letting them become monsters.” 110 years. 110 years ago Hiyori and her friends had been subjected to the utmost cruelty thanks to the sadistic and morbid curiosity of a man named Sōsuke Aizen. As a result of the modification, she and her friends had been cast out of Soul Society, the only home they’d known.

“I replay that night almost every day in my mind. Failure is putting it mildly, I couldn’t do anything. It felt shitty, felt crappy. Because I could think of probably one thousand scenarios that could have prevented that shit show. And you know what? We all could have easily died ten different ways on any other given day. I could have died when I was abused as a kid. I definitely thought I’d never make it. Until the bitch was finally killed and I got the biggest relief in years, yet somehow it only got worse up from shit creek. Not a day goes by I wish I could cut Aizen’s head off, rip his damn head off, set him on fire. Maybe butcher him like dear old mom. I hate that I couldn’t do a damn thing to save anyone… I wish I could have done better.”

A deep breath. Not as shaky as before.

“I'd realized there were scarier things in the world than the monsters that lived in my nightmares. Deal with all this, live with myself, you mean? I honestly don't know. I stand often enough at the abyss of my soul, asking that same question, looking down into the dark crevices where the black monsters dwell on the bottom. I’ve had my own encounters with monsters, my mother, Aizen, my sister, and even myself. That’s when I started thinking of fairy tales. But you know what? People need a good fairy tale every now and then. People invented fairy tales and filled them with monsters so they wouldn’t become monsters themselves. Because the truth can turn you into a monster. You have to become a monster if you want to withstand the truth. If I could live without this mutation, this abnormality inside of me— you bet if I was offered to get rid of this monster that’s defined me I would take the opportunity and hit the ground running. Oddly enough I think I sought some comfort? In this monster. Because I was definitely able to get stronger. Have I moved on? Never. But all we can do is look forward, just survive somehow. That’s the best we can do.”

#kvbikiri #( you can tell how she feels) #[ bruises are a roadmap] #( thank you anon ! ) #[ do not forgive her for her actions] #[ memories of a lost girl ] #[ I’VE POSTED THIS TWICE AND REWROTE IT TWICE BECAUSE MY NEWTWORK IS WONKY ] #( just survive somehow) #[ I admit I deleted this the first time and because my service is slow it’s been deleted so here ]

[jaegerbroshoe]

Jesus fucking Christ, my sisters are so annoying and insensitive. 

I told my mom I don’t want any more snk merch because it turned out to be a huge waste of money, and my sister goes “I’ll take your manga then” as if buying them was such a frivolous task for me and I didn’t spend my own hard-earned money on them.

I said I still want them until I figure out if I’m gonna sell them or not, and she’s all like “fine I’ll buy my own”, when she wasn’t even an avid reader. She just likes buying a bunch of shit she never uses for the sake of collecting it, when we literally have no more space left to store things. When I pointed that out, my other sister goes “it’s okay she’ll put it on your desk after you sell yours”.

I’m just so done with how they always make fun of me whenever something I really care about ends up disappointing me, as if my feelings are silly and irrelevant. They give no consideration whatsoever to how much I valued it and why I’m so upset as a result. Like, I’m sorry I’m not so shallow and materialistic that I buy everything in sight even when I don’t need it/care about it that much.

#rant #me stuff #snk thoughts #my opinion #trigger warning #sorry I need to rant somewhere or it’s back to self harming I go #she bought all the hxh/tokyo ghoul volumes and didn't even crack them open #but then she went and gave away all these books from our childhood #that had sentimental value #saying they were taking up too much space #but now it's all her shit filling up every crevice in the house #it’s just #it’s so infuriating that I can’t even talk about how I feel about the ending without getting mocked at home #(because they all somehow think it was good + they never form strong attachments; they only like shit on a superficial level) #but they can fangirl over their artificial kpop idols 24/7 and have their interests be respected by everyone else in the family #I’m also pissed because I got so much shit growing up for buying 1D merch and books so I slowly worked my way through buying snk merch #(and even then the only thing I really bought was the volumes??) #but they spent hundreds of dollars on physical copies of albums they never listen to and concerts by artists that were a mere phase #and basically just any passing hobby no problem #because my mom has always supported their interests #but whenever I wanted to spend money on something I really cherished I would get in trouble/have to work really hard for it #and to this day my mom hasn't taken an interest in anything I deeply care about #god I can't wait until I move out #I was getting nervous about going to BC but even if I have to struggle on my own it's better than being the outcast at home #and constantly made fun of #like literally anything I like they have to comment on and make me feel self-conscious about

[hotwings0203]

Dead best husband dabi expects his wife to come home make him dinner and fuck his cock then spends the money she makes on beer

Tw:dubcon, misogyny, food play

It’s a tedious routine, almost like dreadful clockwork. You come home from your 9-5, take off your shoes, throw your keys on the counter, and not even before you make it into the kitchen is when his requests come out.

No, you say requests to keep yourself sane, but they’re actually thinly veiled commands.

“Where’s dinner? I’ve been waiting all day.”

“God, you look like a slut. Were they having an orgy at your work or somethin’? Is that what you were so busy doing all day? No wonder this place is a mess. Clean this shit up.”

“Hurry up, the lights broken. And you smell like shit, go wash-no, after you change the bulb.”

You have to look at your wedding photos frequently to remind yourself that he’s your husband, not some lowlife you picked up.

Except, every time you look at the pictures to evade his harsh insults and biting directions, it feels like the Dabi in your memorabilia sneers more and more rather than smiles.

It’s his permanent look, in fact, you’ve forgotten how it felt to feel a warmth in your heart when he smiled demurely at you. It’s hard to remember how his soft touch across your cheeks felt rather than the usual slap delivered to the sore skin.

When you walk in, he’s sprawled on the couch, a t.v remote in one hand and a beer in the other. He’s wearing a wife beater and shorts, absentmindedly scratching his balls when you utter a small “Hey hun.”

“Don’t you ‘hey hun’ me. Where the fuck were you? You were supposed to be here an hour ago.”

You stop yourself from rolling your eyes and immediately make your way to the kitchen, with him leaping up from the couch and tailing behind you.

“Don’t fucking walk away from me, what, you ignoring me now?”

He grabs the back of your neck and slams you face-first into the fridge, preventing you from opening the door.

“Ow! No, I was just looking for a snack-“

“-shut up. You don’t get to eat until I do, you cow. Or are you forgetting how this marriage works?”

He crushes your neck and leans forward to take a whiff of your hair.

“God, is that cologne? You cheating on me now?”

“No Dabi, we had a company lunch and I was just talking to some friends. Maybe that’s what you’re smelling.”

He lets go of you and throws you towards the sink. “Good. You better not be. If I find out some douchebag’s been putting his hands all over you I’ll slit his balls and make you eat em’.”

You grimace and wordlessly start putting pots and pans together, ignoring the rumble in your stomach. You didn’t even get a chance to take your suit off, but you don’t dare exit the kitchen until he’s had his fill yet.

He’s just hangry. That’s all there is to it.

Your husband scratches his stomach and ambles back to the living room, belching obnoxiously and running his hands through his unruly hair.

Hours go by as you slave over the stove, making his favorite desserts and dishes as your fingers begun to progressively cramp, your legs begin to burn as you stand and finish up. With him in the living room it’s easy to taste your own food and get some meager meal in between breaks, but you stop yourself from gorging without him.

Knowing Dabi, he’d measure how many cups of food you started cooking with and subtract it from how much remained now.

Even though it was your money that bought this food.

You’re at the sink a while later cleaning spoons when he strolls in again, crossing his arms and leaning against the entrance of the kitchen. He watches you for a couple minutes, sighing and humming to yourself as you scrub vigorously.

He doesn’t take in the copious amount of dishes you made, he doesn’t compliment how spotless the place looks despite all the cooking that went down here, no. Dabi stares at the way your ass wiggles while you work, the way your body bends attractively over the running sink, your tits brushing against the countertop.

You yelp and drop a small plate when you feel hands encompass your waist. His body is pressed tightly against yours, his hips lightly humping you like an eager virgin does. The force of his weight against you pushed you forward and you have to quickly grab onto the sink spout to avoid falling face first into soggy sink food.

“Dinners almost done Dabi, I’ll be out with it in a bit.”

“Mmmh, I’m not interested in eating that kind of food right now.”

He rests his head on top of yours and you barely refrain from screaming. What the hell did that mean? Wasn’t he the one harping on you earlier for not cooking fast enough?

“God, you look like a perfect slutty housewife right now. ‘M gonna fuck you.” He mutters as he begins yanking your trousers off while bending you further on the sink.

Your hands brace on the wet banister as you let him take what he wants. Last time you refused, he shoved one of his beer bottle necks into your pussy and made you ride on it.

“Dabi-Dabi, the food.” You try to tell him to move the dishes being pushed around from him manhandling you up on the counter but he doesn’t listen.

One plate goes crashing onto the floor, your Alfredo sauce mixed with porcelain bits.

“Oops,” he says not so regretfully. When your panties are successfully ripped down, he lifts your waist and lugs you onto the countertop, your upper half plastered on the cool marble.

His patched hands snake their way up your shirt and push the fabric up along with your bra while his now naked hips start pushing against your bare cunt.

Your exposed tits are squished down and you hiss as your body envelopes the cold counter. You try to lift your head up but he pushes you head back down.

“Uh-uh, no moving ‘till I’m finished. This is what you get for dropping food on the ground. In fact-“

His eyes catch a hold of the mini cakes you whipped up, and a sly grin on his face erupts as he looks from them to your quivering hole.

“Why don’t you have a taste of it? One down, a couple more plates to go!” You cry out in frustration as his hand swipes across the bar and sends the cake dish flying onto the floor.

He pays no heed to the defeating crash, just merely inspects his fingers that got some whipped cream on them while he smack the plate.

“A chef’s gotta taste her own cooking right? This cunt definitely looks hungry and oh so greedy right now too,” he pouts mockingly and traces his cream-covered fingers around your labia, roughly circling your clit and mixing the sweet food into the crevices of your pussy.

“P-please Dabi, don’t. We can do this after dinner, I’m so tired right now! I have to clean up this mess too!”

But no amount of pleading satiates the sadistic bastard. He just yanks your head back and shoves his fingers in your mouth when you open it in pain.

“Suck on ‘em real good, just like how you suck off your bosses. That’s how you get all this fuckin’ money right? You show a little ass, flash some tits, suck some old geezers off-and boom! You’ve got a nice house, and nice husband.” He leers at you as you choke on his slender digits.

Only when you feel like you’re about to vomit is when he yanks his hand out and wipes up another stray glob of frosting from the side of a testing plate. He doesn’t waste any time in working his fingers back inside you, a different hole this time however.

It feels so wrong with a massive creamy glob being pushed along your walls along with expert fingers that know your body inside out, but no matter how disgusting it is, he still finds your spongy area and begins stroking. The smooth filling glides up and down your g-spot as the pads of his fingers batter your sloppy pussy, and in no time you begin moaning.

“Oh Dabi, oh Dabi, fuck, please,-“

“Oh Dabi, oh Dabi,” he mocks cruelly, pinching your clit and squeezing your squished nipples as he pulls his fingers out right at the tip of your climax.

You try to turn around and plead for release but he doesn’t let you. Without missing a beat he takes his bricked up cock in hand and taps it on your ass before gliding in your weeping, cream covered pussy.

The moan you let out is so lewd that even a pornstar would be proud. You hate him, hate this marriage, hate the way he orders you around and looks down on you regardless of how you shower him with love and money.

But holy fuck, when his mushroom tip bangs against your womb like that and drags up and down your sensitive cavern you forget all the abuse.

Back and forth, up and down, sideways and forwards is the way you feel fucked. For someone who just sits on the couch all day you wonder how someone with such frame could fuck like a stallion, barely missing a beat.

“Hah, haaa fuck, you little whore, yeah, bring that ass back on Daddy, show him what you show those creepy fucks at work.” He pants and strikes your ass as you ricochet off his pelvis, his balls slapping your sticky labia.

You whine and try to wriggle out of his intrusion when he sneers the insult, but he merely cages you in between his arms and hunches over your bare body, pumping into you faster than before.

Your open jaw clacks as your tongue drops out in pleasure, his animalistic grunts and curses going straight into your ear and sending you over the edge.

He cums before you, groaning and dropping his dead weight over your suffocated body, not bothering to aid in your pathetic rubbing against his deflating dick.

“A little bit more, please Dabi? I’m so close honey-“

His fingers twitch next to you as he regains himself, exhaling through puffed up cheeks and yawning widely.

“Shut up. You don’t deserve to get off after the mess you made here.”

He peels his sweat-soaked body off of yours and tucks himself back into his pants, regarding the mess on the floor.

All your hard work, gone within a few minutes of ruthless fucking. Which you didn’t even get off to.

He fishes out a crumpled $10 from his musty shorts and throws it at your face like a cheap hooker would take.

“Here. Buy some Plan B and get me some beer. And you better not leave before serving me some fucking food, useless bitch.”

#scummy dabi #bnha #mha #dabi smut #mha smut #bnha smut #mha dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #dabi #dabi imagine #dabi oneshot #scumbag dabi #tw:dubcon #tw:misogyny

[chil2de]

Hii! It's me again, the "teasing mom's broyfriend" anon. I just- you about killed me with that sequel. Hot doesn't even begin to describe it, really 🥵🥵

I have more :))

------------------------

Megumi knows. He knows what a slut you are, knows you've been fucking his father behind his and your mom's back. He knows you only got with him to provoque his father. He knows all of that. And yet, he can't let go of you. He won't do his father this favour.

He avoids going to your mom's house with you as best he can, bc he just can't stand the two of you doing this to her, the poor woman doesn't deserve it. He never touches you when you come back from your mom's, bc he just knows you've been with him. There is, however, an exception. The only thing that can make him help you tease his dad is when they fight.

When it happens, Megumi goes visit your mom with you, and whenever she can't see it, he makes it a point to touch you a little more than would be appropriate in front of Toji. The mix of Megumi's hands all over you and Toji's warning glare could probably make you cum right then and there. Once, when your mom was out doing grocery shopping and Toji stayed behind with the two of you, Megs was all to eager to fuck you, make you scream his name, all for Toji's benefit.

Oh, you do so love it when they fight. You know you should hope for peace and harmony between father and son, but you have much more fun when they are at each other's throat.

You wonder what you would have to do to have both of them filling you up at the same time...

ugh okay sorry if this post is just a massive wall of text i had to cut down on spacing because i kept reaching tumblr’s limit on characters, and uh... incase you couldn’t tell, shit’s about to get serious if i wrote this much LOL this probably looks so clunkyyy :(( i apologise but i have like a line left or two? so i’ll compress everything by saying a massive thank you because this would not have been possible without your sexy ass intellect. i was seriouly fucking dying writing this, it might be the first or second piece i’m genuinely proud of and i thank you :) i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it

this piece makes sense as a standalone, but works a lot better if you read the previous piece! read my disclaimer here if you’re new <3

w.c: 2.8k / characters: 15k (incl spaces) and a special thank you to my beloved anonie. couldn’t have done it without you ❤️

day and night: two.

your bedroom door shuts with a quiet ring. you can only slump down against it, knees held into your chest. your thighs are still quivering like a poor little lamb.

as you move to type out a text for megumi to not come over, there’s a faint knock at the window. your heart burns, throat clogged and knees weak.

you don’t know if you can get up. hell, you don’t know if you should get up. there’s another few delicate rips against the glass and you manage to stumble over in fear of attracting toji’s attention.

“megumi?!” you mouth his name in alarm, dismay crawling onto your features.

your boyfriend gives you a dead once over, noting your matted hair, smeared mascara and weak posture.

of course he knows.

you can discern it clearly from the way he refuses to meet your gaze.

“can you just let me in?” he whispers, tone flat as his index motions over to the lock of the window.

you don’t know what to do.

after all, you’ve still got toji’s cum flowing inside you from earlier.

you fumble backwards, moving to allow his lanky figure to slip inside. megumi manages to hoist his leg up and over, squeezing inside with ease. he closes the window shut behind him, pulling the curtains.

“m-megumi? what are you doing he-“

he doesn’t have time to waste.

megumi knocks the wind out of your lungs as his cold hands seize the sides of your head, stealing your lips for a kiss. he tugs at your bottom lip, tongue drinking you in for a couple of moments like you’re the last meal he’ll ever eat.

“shit.” he hisses, pulling his face back and screwing his eyebrows in mutiny.

oh, but if you didn’t love the way he looked at you like you were pure filth.

“you taste like him. it’s disgusting.” he spits, wiping his delicate lips with the back of his hand.

he knew, but there was always a part of him that wished you wouldn’t submit yourself to the likes of toji. he just had to see it for himself.

“come on, megumi-chan~ thats no way to talk to your girlfriend, is it?

your mother doesn’t deserve this. megumi doesn’t deserve the heartache, either.

megumi can’t see anything but the spitting image of his father all over your body, licking and fondling all the same crevices that he has. but he can’t get enough of you. he can’t stop, can’t turn away from you. he knows that at the end of the day you're spoon-feeding him phrases he wants to hear.

but you’re so good to him.

your pussy fits him like a glove. your hand intertwines with his perfectly. your head is the perfect size to cuddle onto his chest.

there’s something about you that makes you more addicting than nicotine.

bony and slender fingertips ghost over your thighs. you can’t help the squeak that hiccups from you. megumi raises an eyebrow in scepticism before flipping the hem of your miniskirt up.

he scoffs, slicking his long middle finger against your hot cunt.

“don’t hold it in.” he reprimands you, flashing a grimace as you squabble with him.

“b-but toji-“

“but what? am i not good enough for you?”

you swallow thickly, chanting a small prayer before allowing toji’s cum to drip out of your pussy. you shiver, goosebumps licking your skin when you can feel the warmth of his seed ooze and coat your soft thighs. you can’t avoid the burn of megumi’s regard as he watches the cum slowly flow out of you.

he’ll make you want him.

megumi can’t fully comprehend why you keep running back to his father instead of him, why you choose toji over him. like father like son, it evokes a bubble of magma in the form of competition and jealousy.

he’ll make you beg for him. that’s for sure.

“get on the bed.” he whispers, tone cold and even. there’s no warmth to his voice, even with his usual monotonous tendencies you can tell you struck a nerve. it makes your stomach churn, butterflies swooping in and adorning your vital organs.

like a moth drawn to a flame, as though you have no mind of your own, you step backwards until the back of your knees kiss the metal frame of your bed. megumi towers over you, pushing you backwards as he crawls in between your thighs.

the crisp ring of his zipper sliding down clashes against the room. why should he undress himself properly for the likes of someone like you?

“there’s no point in prepping you. i think you know that.” megumi sighs, relieving his twitching cock from the confines of his painfully tight boxers.

you can feel the avarice swirl in your abdomen, cold fear stilling in your veins at the mere thought that you could get caught by toji at any second. it makes your fingertips tingle and stomach churn. when you wail a needy whimper, megumi only shakes his head before plastering his icy cool hand against your wet lips.

a part of megumi wants to let all hell break loose. if he allows you to moan as you please, it won’t be just toji hearing your cries of ecstasy. knowing your mother, perhaps she’d be a little glad to know that your boyfriend is meeting your needs sufficiently. whereas toji?

it puts him in a predicament. from a bystanders point of view, toji has no right to storm in here and to shriek at megumi for blowing your brains out.

why?

because he’s not your dad.

he’s not a paternal figure in your life. there’s no right for him to say what you can and cannot do. he won’t hold that kind of reign over you like your mother does. and megumi likes that. he relishes the idea of toji being forced to listen to you babble megumi’s name, to mewl and cry for him to hit it deeper whilst he can’t do anything but complain.

it’s not like you haven’t heard your mother with other men plenty of times. it’s only natural, right? hell, she’ll probably gossip with you about it.

a carnal desire glosses over megumi’s steel blue gaze. like a wolf waiting to pounce onto a hare. he can see the way your thighs squeeze, how you gulp before him with those doe eyes of yours. you’re practically purring underneath him. for once, megumi gathers the reasoning to understand why his father finds you so intriguing. there’s nothing better than having your own toy melt and oblige under every command.

your boyfriend’s hand finds its way to your chest, where he rests the palm flat underneath your breasts. he steadies himself, using you as leverage as he guides his dick through the cum stained mess of your cunt. your heart pounds in anticipation, drool coating the back of your tongue as your pussy throbs around him. he manages to fit his tip in, dragging the enlarged and sensitive muscle against your walls. your ankles flutter around megumi’s waist, lower body strength trembling as you attempt to pull him in further.

“m-megs- please..”

“what?” he screws his eyebrows, staring you down. you can’t find the words in you to plead for him.

“what the hell? why act all coy now?“

“that’s not how we do things around here, is it? so spit it out. i won’t get what you’re trying to say otherwise.”

megumi slips his dick out, grinding against your clit as his torso flushes against yours. he pulls you in for a quick kiss, enough to relinquish his appetite, but not enough to taste the filth that corrupts your sweet and innocent lips.

“those cute little whines of yours won’t help you, either.” his breath flickers against your skin, sticky tongue licking trails as he works to mark up your neck. you can feel the tears prick your eyes already. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, how it throbs against your cunt and the droplets of perspiration trickling along your skin. you can feel megumi’s pulse heavy against your clit, the way his dick twitches as he smears the tip through the folds of your slick. it’s slowly driving him insane. but that’s okay. even through the static that bounces around in his skull- he knows that you hate it more.

after all, your boyfriend knows best.

your fingernails soar around to megumi’s back. you want to scratch him, but you can’t access his toned skin through the layers of his jacket. instead, you’re left fumbling and scrunching the fabric like a feline with an insatiable desire to itch its claws.

“megumi- please, it’s too much-“ you huff through laboured breaths, peering up at him through tear stained eyelashes.

it’s almost enough to make him melt. almost.

“what is?”

“this?”

he shifts himself back up, grabbing his dick and slipping only the tip in once more. he allows you a few centimetres extra before dipping back out and repeating the process again. megumi’s gaze locks with yours, as though he’s asking ‘is this what you want?’

“s-stop teasing me.. just put it in alreadyy~” you choke out a groan of frustration, ready to slam your hips down onto the full length of his shaft.

“why should i?”

“megumi, i swear to god- if you don’t fuck me right now-“

“-or what? you’ll go to my dad? good luck, when you couldn’t even fulfill your duties as being his toy.”

so fucking humiliating.

the way megumi instantly stands up and proceeds to stuff his still hard and leaking dick back into his boxers.

he’ll deal with it later.

you’re left stuttering, unable to form any coherent words, thoughts or insults to spew back at him. legs wide open, cunt empty and glistening in the blue tint of the moonlight.

he leans over, swiping some of your excess drool with his thumb before dipping it into your mouth. he half expects you to lick at his thumb, convince him to stay a little longer, but his skin sits in your mouth like a forgotten thermometer for a couple of seconds.

“if only you could see your face right now.” he hums, tone flat with a certain mockery.

sometimes, as the days pass, you can notice his resemblance growing closer and closer to toji.

-

the following day

you haven’t left the quarters of your room for the entire day. you’re stuck in bed, face mushed into the confines of your pillow. you’ve always held high regards of the fact that your libido isn’t necessarily extremely high, but when you’re promised dick just to be neglected of it? shit feels like you’re in heat. you can’t go to toji, because you’re mother’s home. not only that, but he’d be sure to teach you one of his lessons. you’re already shivering thinking of the conversation with him, how you’d even try to dig out of that hole you were already so deep in.

you can’t call megumi either… at least not for now. you sigh wistfully into the pillow, kicking your legs about on your bed as you hiss a groan of turmoil.

there’s a sudden knock at the door that snaps you out of your haze. it leaves you pumped, blood coursing through your veins and you shoot up like an attentive little puppy about to be taken for a walk.

“it’s open!” you clear your throat, humming.

the disappointment rocks your features so clearly that it’s embarrassing. it’s just your mother.

“you okay? thought you died in here, baby. lunch is ready, and your lovely megumi-kun came to say hello.”

what?

“megumi? that’s nice. did he leave a message or anything? like he just dropped by to say hello or-“

“hm? oh, no. he’s having lunch with us.”

“is everything okay, dear?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m good. sorry, i spaced out a little bit. small headache, that’s all. i’ll change clothes and i’ll come out to eat.” you dismiss your mother, keeping in the hyperventilation you’re about to undergo. she gives you a small glance of concern before returning to the dining room to serve her guests.

“(y/n)! we were just talking about you!” your mother hums, gifting you a smile of warmth and radiance as she pours drinks into some cups.

you can feel toji’s mocking stare dig holes into your skin.

you can fucking feel it.

you can imagine him saying it.

“slut.”

at the six chaired table, you scurry to sit the furthest away from megumi and toji. your mother shoots you a sideways glance, motioning for the seat between toji and megumi. you swallow thickly, awkwardly striding over to take a seat.

your knee accidentally knocks into toji’s and you instantly utter an apology.

“you should be.” he mutters underneath his breath, disguising the words as a sigh.

“so? you said you were talking about me?” you straighten yourself, perking up a semblance of cheerfulness and perfect innocence.

“oh, right! toji was just telling me how stuffed you were yesterday!”

your lids flicker in shock and you abruptly stare at toji, whose half lidded jade green eyes slowly land on yours before locking to meet your attention for a few seconds.

“sorry, what?” you stutter, finding it difficult to believe the situation.

“you know, the food? are you sure you’re alright, honey? you’ve been acting strange since this morning.”

“i’m fine, i swear. just some painkillers would be nice.”

when your mother turns around to rummage for some painkillers, she emits a squeak of alarm at the lack of them.

please. you’ll do anything to get out of this predicament.

“are we out? i can go grab some-“

“-no, that’s okay. i’ll head out. i need to grab a few extra things for dinner anyway. you three, make nice with each other!”

sure.

when the door shuts, you realise you’re out of options.

you can’t run away.

“so, megumi. how’s eating up after my leftovers feel?”

“leftovers? because one woman wasn’t enough for you?” megumi scoffs, averting his gaze.

“it’s not my problem that your woman came running to me. doesn’t that say something about you?”

“like what?”

“like, you can’t fuck her properly?”

“i can’t fuck her properly? but you’re telling her to keep your cum inside her? don’t you care what’ll happen if she gets pregnant?”

“see, megumi. she’s on birth control. you didn’t know that? and besides, if i didn’t know any better-“

toji finally allows you his undivided attention, staring right through to your soul.

“-i’d think your little girlfriend here likes walking around with my cum inside her.”

you’d be able to run a butter knife through the tension hanging in the air. the room holds its breath, and as do you in compliment of trying not to set things off into a piping hot mess.

“isn’t that right-“

“-princess?”

your fight or flight response kicks in at the malicious tone that coats toji’s tongue. you swallow thickly, throat parched and lips cracked.

but fuck.

if it isn’t the most arousing thing- the two of them squabbling over you.

toji screws his face at you, features lighting in a mix of awe and delight.

“really? you’re seriously enjoying this?” toji hums with mockery, eyebrows perking at your unusual behaviour. he can smell the sweet nectar of your arousal slicking against your underwear.

you abruptly stand up, ready to leave.

megumi’s hand curls around your wrist. he slings your hand behind your back, slamming you over the table. some silverware and plates clatter and dash against the hardwood floor.

“answer the question, (y/n).” he hisses.

you whimper a soft whine. there’s no way you’re answering that.

“get your fucking hands off of her.” toji barks, kicking his chair back.

“try me.”

something washes over you. a premonition, say. that if you don’t speak up, someone will end up seriously injured.

“i can’t choose between you two. i just can’t. so i think it’s the best option if we just stop this completely.” you sigh, prying megumi off of you. his stance relaxes and you wince at the pain in your spine. you rub your wrists in slight agony, refusing to meet either of their gazes.

“it’s been fun, but i think it’s time to draw the line-“

“no.” toji remarks offhandedly.

“huh?” you contort your face in offence. there’s something thick on megumi’s face, too. it almost looks like determination?

“i said no.” toji reiterates, taking a stride towards you.

his index and thumb caress your chin, tilting your jaw up to look at him.

“i don’t care how long it takes. whether it’s me or him-“

“-i’m making you choose.”

#ANON IM SO SAD AB THE CHARACTER LIMIT I HAD SO MUCH TO GUSH AB AND SO MUCH TO SAY #BUT I COULDNT LMFAO #im so sorry BAHAHAH i really hope you enjoy it!!! #yes ofc there will be another part who do you think i am😔 #the next one might actually end me... #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk scenarios #jjk smut #jjk imagines #jjk hcs #jjk headcanons #megumi x y/n #megumi fanfic #megumi x you #megumi x reader #toji x y/n #toji x reader #toji x you #megumi smut #toji smut

[aquilaofarkham]

title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought. 

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️  Thank you so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity. 

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.” 

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

--

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician. 

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

 “I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn’t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough. 

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

#castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #greta danesti #trephacard #trevorcard #my writing #*cvfic

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (3)

Synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

Pairing: yandere!Taehyung x f!reader

genre: angst, horror, weirdly some fluff lol

Warnings: dark themes, yandere, stalking, manipulation, conditioning, mentions of abuse, suicidal ideations/attempts, self harm, murder, depictions of torture etc (basically its gorey and fucked up), angel trap, etc stabbing and guns. do not read if triggered!!!!

wordcount: 2.2k

taglist: @yes-sol-not-soul @yoongiofmine

a/n: pt 3 is here!! honestly i wasnt expecting this amount of support as i’ve never published my writing before so thank u sm ♡ i was inspired to write this one night and i had no idea where it’d go or anything but i’m happy with the way its turning out :D fun fact abt me, i’ve been obsessed w the franchise since i was little and i actually have 2 saw tattoos, one of billy and one above saying “cherish your life” since that’s pretty much the motto of saw :) and i have quite the collection of saw/billy items so why not turn my fav horror film into a fucked up love story! let me know if u would like to be added to the taglist and pls enjoy reading^^ feel free to send me asks abt the series or anything u want~ i love hearing from u guys!! :D ps— taehyung and the reader dont have much interaction in this part,, theyll definitely be more of them together in part 4 :) unedited so pls excuse any mistakes!! tysm <33 and remember these are fictional characters and do not represent bts personally in any way!!

series masterlist

part one part two

The headlines constantly named the Jigsaw Killer, Billy. The somewhat eerie little doll that had a face as white as a Calla Lily with spirals on it’s cheeks as red as the blood that was shed during the tests. Billy was always dressed in a little black suit with a red bowtie and he was (most of the time) situated on a squeaky battered tricycle. Attached was always a tape that read “play me” and when the subjects did, a chilling voice— one that could make even the world's worst predators shiver with terror— would echo around the room.

Everyone knew that a doll clearly wasn’t responsible, yet they gave it the name Billy in hopes to somewhat humanise the face that instilled panic— they did not want to live in fear.

It was the only face behind the killings.

But this time, there was a different subject stuck in the test and Billy had made sure there was no way for them to survive.

“How are you scared of heights? You’re practically a giant yourself!”

“Just because I’m tall doesn’t mean I can’t be scared of heights Y/Nie.”

You had no idea how long had passed since Taehyung had turned up at the garage, you were too busy chatting away squeezed into the kitchen while your Dad, Yoongi and Hobi worked on the cars in the shop. If anyone could hear you both, they would think you’d known eachother since childhood— the playful jokes and light touches exaggerated that.

You’d only known him for a few hours really, if you added the time spent with him on the first day and now. It hadn’t seemed like all those weeks ago that you first met, he had a familiar presence, as though you had known him for years compared to the hours.

“I just wouldn’t imagine you to be scared of anything Taehyung… you seem so confident and fearless.”

You saw the way Taehyung looked at you. His eyes flashed with understanding.

“I did have my fears back then, much like yours.”

“What do you mean?” you had a rough idea on what he meant but you needed him to voice it.

A deep inhale and the words flowed from his lips before he could stop it, “The fear of living. I had been through some stuff you know, growing up. My mum was working a lot and my dad was an alcoholic, he was so fucking possessive and wouldn’t let her go anywhere without kicking off. It was a fucking shitshow and so toxic. This one time though, I’d pretended that I’d gone to school and waited outside the front door. It didn’t take long before I heard shit getting smashed and my dad shouting.” Taehyung was telling the truth only, he left out the part where he was also as possessive, if not more, than his father. Well, let's say… obsessive. “I just ran in the house and saw my dad towering over my mum and I don’t remember what happened but, I do remember my mum crying and my dad disappeared.”

Now Taehyung was lying through his teeth. He remembered clearly, almost like it was yesterday. He smashed the nearest bottle, pulled his mother away from the monster that scared her and stabbed him. Not just once, not twice but thirty-seven times. Hence the thirty seven tattoo on the palm of his right hand (the one he’d actually killed his father with). There was only Taehyung who knew what it meant, he counted every single time the broken glass pierced his father’s body, he counted with a smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat.

You were at a loss for words. Your mouth gaped in shock, eyes wide and your brain scrambled for the right thing to say. You reached over and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers. His thumb running back and forth along your hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like.” There was no way you could relate, your mother and father were happy and in love. They had the ideal relationship, one you wished for yourself. You could empathise though.

“You don’t need to be sorry baby, it’s in the past and I’ve moved on from it. I was like you though, poisoned by the roots that keep you on the ground even though you wanted nothing more than to break free and be no longer.” A silence fell over you both before Taehyung uttered, “I wasn’t successful with my attempt so now I’m here to help you.”

Warmth spread throughout your body, a smile graced your features as you no longer felt alone.

You had a completely different idea to what those words actually meant.

It was nearing the evening when Taehyung’s car had been fixed. Yoongi popped his head in the kitchen to tell him but stopped himself so as to not interrupt the scene before him. You were laughing along to whatever Taehyung was babbling about with your hand resting on his bicep, with that look in your eyes that he hadn’t seen for years. Yoongi felt himself smile as he saw you hanging onto Taehyung's every word.

For the first time in forever, you looked alive.

Yoongi cleared his throat which drew yours and Taehyung’s attention, “Sorry to interrupt guys. We’ve finished with your car so whenever you’re ready we’ll be outside.” The infamous gummy smile overtook his features, you felt yourself beam in return.

“Thanks man! I’ll be like, five minutes.”

Yoongi nodded his head in reply and swiftly left the room.

You’d taken Tae’s hand into yours, playing with the array of rings that occupied his fingers. Solemn thoughts overtook, am I not gonna see him again? Was this, whatever this is, over before it had even begun? Your eyes stayed on his hand as you turned it over and traced your finger over the inked ‘thirty seven’ on his palm. “What does this mean?”

Taehyung didn’t think twice before he practically beamed out, “It’s my lucky number.”

The difference was, it wasn’t really his lucky number… although he did see it that way. It was the number that had stayed with him. It was something he was proud of, whenever he looked at the hand that killed his father, his chest filled with pride and a joyous feeling overtook his senses. It was his first murder. Something he relished in and thus, created the onslaught of Jigsaw killings. He targeted a certain type— those whose sins would lock them up forever if they were ever found out. Racists, murderers, rapists, drug dealers, con-men. Authoritative figures who abused their power. He even went as far as subjecting suicidal people.

You see, things aren’t sequential. Good doesn’t lead to good, nor bad to bad. People who steal, don’t get caught, they live the good life. Others lie, cheat and get elected.

Some people would call it karma but Taehyung, he called it justice.

He’d started this with one thing on his mind— those that don’t appreciate life do not deserve it.

Whenever a serial killer was on the loose, the press did what they always did. They gave them a nickname. While the public had named the doll Billy. The actual killer was named ‘Jigsaw’.

This stemmed from the jigsaw piece that was cut from the victims skin, no one knew why he was doing it or what it even stood for.

It did have a meaning although unknown to the public.

The jigsaw piece that was cut from the subjects was only ever meant to be a symbol that that subject was missing something. A vital piece of the human puzzle. The survival instinct.

After all, until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Across town an underground abandoned warehouse, was where the next subject had found themselves.

They were suspended in the air, their feet merely dangling above the ground. The putrid smell of death lingered in every crevice, the sound of rats scurrying along the concrete floor filled their ears just as they began to stir awake.

A pain in their ribs was the overwhelming factor to them finally coming around. When they groggily opened their eyes, they were paralised with fear due to the scene in front of them.

A doll sat a few feet ahead, perched upon a tricycle. Adorned with a black suit and a red bowtie. A slow red light flashed in his eyes.

Billy.

Before the subject could even register how, when or why they found themselves trapped in a test, footsteps echoed behind them. The subject called out, “Help! Please, somebody help! I shouldn’t be here!”

A tsk reached their ears, as a disembodied voice replied, “Trust me, no one can hear you. Scream all you like. You’d just be wasting your breath, you may as well cherish it before it's gone.”

With hairs stood on end, the subject stilled. “What do you want from me?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” The man's footsteps grew louder. “I’m here to serve justice, that’s all.”

The man rounded the subject, settling in their view with only his cloaked back visible while he tended to the little doll. He touched Billy delicately—like he was a little child that he loved dearly. He combed his gloved hand through the doll's black hair and eventually pulled his fingers from the tresses to pat his head gently.

“You fucking psycho! Let me go!”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that which only infuriated the subject more causing them to shake in anger, a movement they soon ceased when they realised something was penetrating their ribs.

“I’d be very careful if I was you, we wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now… would we?” The cloaked figure spun around. An angry glint to his eye.

“What the fuck, you’re fucking crazy. Let me out, this isn’t right!” The subject tried their hardest to swing their legs, to somehow kick the man who’d imprisoned them.

“I think you’ll find it is right. You’re unworthy of the body you possess.” He inched closer, “see, when someone purposely intends to harm others, they lose their right to life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

The man arched a brow as he replied, “Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He felt like it was a game of cat and mouse except, he was a tiger and his subject, was the tiniest prey to mankind. “But, let me remind you! Since you can’t get your thick fucking head to work. You’re a liar, a cheater and an abuser. That ring any bells?”

The subject's face dropped.

“Ah, I see by your expression you know exactly what I’m talking about! Glad to see we’re on the same page.” He shrugged his cloak off placing it to the side of the doll. “I want to play a game.”

“What game? This isn’t a fucking game! You’re sick in the head you fucking cunt!”

The atmosphere shifted, the man remained calm while the subject went ballistic.

“What is this? What fucking game?”

“You feel the machine that’s currently occupying your ribs? Well, in about ten minutes that’s going to rip you apart. I’m proud to say that trap is my baby. I’ve been working on it especially for you! How nice is that?” he reached out to tug at the subject’s legs, tormenting them like a cat would a mouse. “Anyway, as my beautiful angel trap will rip you apart, my darling little friend Billy over here,” the subject followed the direction the man's hand pointed, “is going to match your face with the ugliness of your soul.”

“Fuck, fuck this! How do I stop it? Tell me how I fucking stop it!”

A boxy grin overtook the man's face, laughter poured from his mouth as he leaned over and slapped the subject’s leg. “This is a special game.”

“Who are you? What do you mean by ‘special game’?”

He raised himself so he stood tall and grabbed a knife from his pocket, “I’m the man you call Jigsaw.” He traced the tip of the knife along the subject’s ankle, “and when I say a special game… I mean you can’t get out.” While the subject was screaming in realisation, Taehyung walked back for his cloak, hung it over his shoulder and stalked off back the way he came. He sent one last smile to the subject as he rounded them and within the blink of an eye, he gripped the knife and slashed the subject’s achilles.

A chilling scream pierced the eerie atmosphere, the subject couldn’t string words together. Abundances of anxiety, terror and pure panic took reign of their body. Taehyung grabbed the injured muscles and forced his gloved fingers in as he gripped and twisted them, “That’s for Y/N.”

Taehyung had pressed the timer before he cut the subject’s tendons. He grabbed the tape from his pocket and threw it on the ground and with a chuckle he shouted, “Game over!”

Before he reached the end of the hallway, he heard the gunshots pierce his subjects face followed by the sound of the angel trap, even this far away Taehyung heard every crack of the ribs and the noise of the body being tore apart.

Without looking back, Taehyung rounded the corner and slammed the door shut.

He’d chosen the Angel trap for the irony, the subject that was currently hanging from the ceiling was no angel. They were a fucked up, evil, waste of space. Taehyung had done the world a favour, he’d done you a favour.

That got him thinking, how much blood would you shed in order to stay alive?

[a/n: who do we think was in the trap???👀]

#yandere taehyung #bts horror #dark bts #yandere bts #mafia bts #kim taehyung au #kim taehyung mafia #taehyung x reader #taehyung angst #bts angst #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #yandere jin #yandere hoseok #yandere yoongi #yandere namjoon #yandere jungkook #yandere bts x reader #yandere au #bts fic #billyjigsaw!taehyung #john kramer!taehyung #billy kth au #un2verse #bts mafia au #taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung scenario #bts horror au

[anyoneseenadam]

Hii

Can you please write something for fenrys? first meeting maybe? And the bond clicks? Thank you 🥺🥺

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: implied smut, kissing and nudity, lil bit of blood and injuries but mainly pure fluff

a/n: fenrys is my fave and u can tell in the fic omg!! i hope you enjoy it cause it’s probs my fave one i’ve written yet :))) (i also made it a teensy bit ddlg but that’s just cause i want Fenrys to baby me lol)

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Shit

Fenrys pressed his hand to the wound in his side, feeling the slow pump of blood seeping between his fingers as he stumbled through the woods. He had won the fight. The other guy now lying in the dirt, however not without consequence. And he wasn’t entirely sure he would stay alive unless he could find a healer soon.

He stopped to lean against a tree, breathing heavily as he held himself together. He transformed into a wolf, moving faster, and trying to pick up a scent, any scent, that could possibly help him, when he caught the sweetest smell he ever had. It was a female, smelling like peonies and blackberries, sweet but with an underlying smoky smell. She smelled of long days in flowers fields and even longer nights beside campfires, evenings spent curled in hand woven blankets and mornings spent drinking dark coffee and eating sweet toast.

He whimpered and began running in the direction of the scent. If he wasn’t so focused on not bleeding out he may have stopped to consider why the scent was pulling him in the way it did. He would have considered the direction he was running into, the direction of his future, his past and his present. But he just kept up, going as fast as his injured body would allow, concentrating on the sweet smell and putting one foot in front of the other.

He felt the change almost immediately, the cold snow and rough bark being swapped for cool moss. The pine trees swapped for tall, oak trees teeming with life. The silence of a frozen forest swapped for the rustling of bushes as nocturnal animals moved silently under the guise of darkness. The chill of the snow-covered woods swapped for the warmth of a summer evening. He pushed between two bushes and found himself facing a clearing, in the middle of which stood a wooden cottage, the wood dark and the roof covered in more moss, flowers growing from every surface and ivy peeking out of the crevices in the house. He stumbled down the path to the cottage, turning back into a male and crossing a small bridge over a stream that separated him from the intoxicating scent he chased.

He let out what he could only describe as a bark, calling for the female that carried the scent he was growing addicted to, collapsing onto his knees, feeling his conscious fade as he held to the side of his stomach, searing pain replaced by fiery veins as his head swayed. He barely heard the door open, only noticing the scent get so much stronger. He attempted to look up, the movement making his head spin as he collapsed, the last thing he saw, a girl in the halo of the moon.

--

Fenrys awoke in a foreign bed. An unbelievably comfortable bed, but foreign all the same. He pushed up on his forearms, gritting his teeth at the reminder of his wound.

The room he was in was dark, not just in light source, but also in décor. The window was cracked open with lacy curtains half closed, there was a tall bookshelf sat next to a desk with leather-bound books lining it, and tall candles flickering and casting the room in a golden glow. The bed he was in was small, clearly just for one, but so soft. He had blankets surrounding him and copious amounts of pillows, some that appeared hand made. In fact, upon closer inspection, a lot of the room looked handmade. Art covering the walls depicting crying women or bloody scenes that he presumed had been done by the owner of this house, given the pallet and assortment of brushed he saw on the windowsill.

And then there was that scent. It was stronger here and he pressed his face into a pillow tentatively, breathing in through his nose as he picked up on the deeper undertones. Fresh picked daisies, melted wax, the pages of old, worn books and something he couldn’t describe. Something so intoxicating he felt tears spring to his eyes, his body reacting in an unheard-of way, so overcome with emotion from scent alone.

He heard footsteps approaching the closed door and hastily put down the pillow, sitting up straight and readying himself to fight whoever it was if they were an intruder. But when you entered he faltered.

Mate. The word clanged through him as he came face to face with an angel. You were wearing a dark brown broderie dress with white hearts lining the hem, your feet bare and toenails painted black. Your hair was falling around your face, messy and untamed, and you had dark smudges around your eyes, makeup that accentuated your features and made you look like a character from the scary books he read as a boy. However right now you looked more like a teddy bear.

He briefly remembered the tail of a witch he had read. An evil witch who lured men into her house with whispered words and sweet kisses, only to steal their hearts and use their blood to keep her skin young and eyes bright. This girl however was no witch, you had elegantly pointed ears and a graceful way of moving that only came from being Fae. He watched as you moved to his side, silent on your feet, putting a tray down beside him before moving an opening the curtains further, letting in more natural light.

“How are you feeling?” your sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. His mind coming to a halt as he heard you speak.

“I- er fine..?” His voice was rough, and you smiled, a reserved smile. Moving to his side and sitting at the edge of the small bed he was on, pouring him a glass of water from a small decanter you had brought through.

“(Y/n.)” you answered his unspoken question.

“Fenrys.”

He muttered a thanks as you passed the glass to him, noting the crystals that hung around your neck and adorned your fingers.

“Crystals?” he asked, and you looked down, playing with the rings you wore nervously.

“My mother taught me about their meanings, they’ve always helped me.” You bit your lip and Fenrys decided he would never meet anyone as cute as you again, it simply wasn’t possible.

“Me too, my mother used to carry them everywhere.” You smiled at him shyly, a beat of silence passing between the two of you as he listened to the birds outside.

“Can I see your wound? I want it make sure it’s healing properly.” You asked and he nodded, pulling the blankets down slightly, grinning as your eyes widened as you took in his physique.

“I’m presuming you’re the healer I have to thank for letting me see another day.” He flirted playfully but you shook your head,

“I’m not a very good healer I’m sorry, but I did stitch it up and it should do the rest itself.” You pressed gentle fingers against the skin surrounding his wound and he glanced down, seeing it was already practically healed.

“You still saved my life.” He said, completely serious and you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“I’ll let you rest.” You said quietly, standing to walk away and he smiled, feeling more at ease than he ever had since the war, watching his little mate leave.

--

He woke up again a few hours later, wound completely healed and puckering into a scar. Standing he stretched his arms above his head, not bothering with a shirt as he left the room in search of the girl that had occupied his dreams.

The rest of the house was alike your room, tall candles and worn books everywhere. He passed a kitchen filled with copper utensils and a living room with an old armchair, a half-filled mug left next to it, but still no you. He saw the front door was cracked open and wandered over to it, pulling it open and stepping into the fresh air, barely feeling the chill on his body as he found you kneeling on the moss-covered ground facing away from him.

You were muttering under your breath and as he got closer he saw you were cradling a small bird with a broken wing. He watched as you closed your eyes, the ground and air seeming to still as you called upon your magic, a soft white light flowing from your hand into the bird until its wing was healed and it could flutter away.

“I thought you said you weren’t a healer,” he broke the silence and you turned to him with a small smile.

“I said I wasn’t a very good healer.” You replied, standing with green stained knees, your hair now piled atop your head and lip gloss coating your soft lips.

“What are you then?” he came closer to you, unable to resist holding his mate, even if you weren’t aware yet.

“My mother said we were natural faeries.” You said, looking at him shyly, “we derive our power from the earth, crystals, sea water, dirt, fire, stuff like that.”

He hummed, “So technically you could have any type of magic?”

“I guess, but I’m not very good at magic,” you muttered, hands fiddling with your rings again as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Fenrys?” you asked, all pouty lips and wide eyes.

“Have you realised yet darling?” he asked, and you bit your lip. He knew he could tell you, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“I- we’re mates I think.” You were practically shaking, and he didn’t know why he suddenly had this burning desire to scoop you into his arms and protect you against the horrible world that was out there. He nodded with a smile, watching as awe took over your stunning face.

“Can I kiss you princess?” he asked, and you felt your face heat up, looking down as he pulled you closer. “Have you ever been kissed before angel?” he asked, his face hurting from the grin that was spreading over his face when you shook your head.

He tilted your head up to his, looking deeply into your eyes as your breaths came out quicker. “Not many people can find our cottage, my mother put up wards when she got ill, our family wasn’t well liked by the king. You probably only got here because we’re mates,” You muttered.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked again, running a soft hand over your head, smoothing your hair away from your face as you nodded sweetly.

He smiled before leaning down and kissing you gently. Pulling away and feeling as smug as a thief when your lips followed his, pouting at the loss of contact so quickly. He chuckled at your put out expression and leaned down to kiss you again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you gasped against his lips, quickly beating your own in a battle for dominance and taking his time exploring your mouth.

He laid you down that morning and took you for the first time in the soft moss. Then again in your even softer bed. Now you were sitting in his lap, eating strawberries of a bush you had in your back garden as he pressed dizzying kisses into your neck, both of you still as bare as the day you were born, Fenrys having forgot how much he missed skin to skin contact, when you suddenly remembered.

“Fenrys?” he hummed in response, completely enamoured with the feel of your soft skin against his rough calluses. “Why were you hurt last night?”

“I didn’t tell you my job did I angel?” he asked, the pet name making you giggle as you shook your head, “I work for the queen of Terrasen.”

You gasped, “But she was killed!”

“Oh angel, when was the last time you left this cottage?” he asked, worry coming over him as he realised you had been holed up alone for so long.

“Not since my mother died. She said the king was dangerous and that he would hurt me if he found me,” your bottom lip was wobbling and Fenrys quickly kissed it away, shushing you as it dawned on him just how innocent his little girl was.

“No baby, he’s gone now, the new king of Adarlan is a very kind man and the Queen of Terrasen is wonderful,” he promised, “Will you let me take you to meet them?”

You nodded enthusiastically, bouncing slightly in his lap making him groan. He nipped at your ear lobe and you squealed as he pushed you down. You could meet them another day, today he was too busy with his little mate.

#throne of glass #tog #fenrys moonbeam #fenrys x reader #fenrys moonbeam x reader

[pandoras-princess]

Next Best Thing (Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader) 18+

*gif not mine//credit to owner

A/N: Hello my lovely peopless! 🌸 I have had the worst writer’s block and honestly it felt like this part was going to go on forever. But we’re here and we’re over it 🤗 I’m actually quite proud of how this one turned out despite everything so I shall keep it short and sweet but I will say please please read part one before you read this if you haven’t already, this part won’t make sense otherwise but that’s it for the nagging I swear 😚 sooo without further adieu I give you part two 😁😁 Happy Reading Peoples! 🥳🥳 as ever I appreciate every like, reblog and follow, feedback is always welcome 😌

Summary: It’s been half a year and you’ve settled quite nicely into your job at the Garrison, as well as all the perks that come with it. Your relationship with Tommy takes an unexpected turn, igniting a fire within John he hadn’t known was simmering...

Pairing: (OOC) Tommy Shelby x fem!reader, John Shelby x fem!reader

Warnings: Swearing, explicit mentions of sex, smoking

PART ONE PART THREE PART FOUR

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It’s been 6 months since your first shift at the Garrison, and running the bar isn’t the only thing you've settled into.

After spending the night together in his office, you and Tommy came to a mutually beneficial arrangement. You provide him with some much needed stress release, in return he provides you with the love and adoration you so desperately crave, even if only for the brief moments spent in your bed.

As the intimate meetings became more and more frequent, there was still no doubt in your mind that you were little more than a functional lay to the man.

Truthfully, you were anything but functional because with every encounter Tom could feel his heart falling for you.

At first, it was how you'd light a cigarette for him right after sex, plucking the stick from your lips to tuck it between his before you lit your own; it was the way your wild curls would encompass your face like a halo at even the smallest tilt of your head; it was the way you could handle any rowdy punter at the bar with a few choice words and a look that could put even the hardest man in his place. And now? Now, it was absolutely everything about you. Tom found his head clouded with thoughts of you constantly, the only relief taken from being in your presence.

What started out as a bit of harmless fun, had now become a nightly occurence.

Tonight being no exception, you skillfully roll over him, careful not to place any unwanted weight on delicate body parts. Tom pulls on his cigarette, inhaling the harsh smoke as he admires the after-sex glow radiating off your naked form. The only marrs on your skin were the hickeys he made in an eager bid to claim you as his own.

You set about gathering your clothes, unaware of the adoration swimming in the blue irises behind.

“What're you doing?”

“I’m getting ready to leave” you chime, now all too accustomed to the usual routine of sex and a quick smoke before walking home or sneaking Tom out.

Returning to the bed in hopes of retrieving your underwear, Tommy’s large hand wraps around your thigh holding you in place, and any thoughts of the discarded fabric are dashed.

“Stay.”

It was not a question but a statement, the silent pleading in his eyes a far too familiar feeling of your own.

“Are you sure? Because I distinctly remember you sayi-”

“I know what I said, that's not what I want anymore” he interrupts, perfectly aware of the words about to be repeated back to him.

Straddling his waist, his hands come to rest on your hips, thumbs drawing invisible circles on the soft skin beneath as your hands trail mindlessly along his toned chest, goosebumps appearing in their wake.  

“What do you want then?” The question comes out breathily, and your heart pounds against your ribcage at such an intensity you were sure it was audible.

“I wan’t you, Y/N.”

There it was. The words you’d been waiting to hear for what felt like an eternity.

You ignore the niggling voice in the back of your mind; the voice reminding you that this decleration of- of- whatever it is, was coming from the mouth of the wrong Shelby brother.

“Is that so, Mr Shelby?”

Tommy is cast back to the very first time you’d given yourself to him - bent over his desk and shamelessly moaning his name as he pounded you with such force he worried the aged wood might just give out from under you - and he remembers just why he’d had this change of heart in the first place.

You were perfect. Plain and simple.

Of course you had your quirks, everyone did. But try as he might he couldn’t find a single one that put him off. The more time spent together the more he was convinced God had crafted you entirely for his sake.

“Yes Y/N that is so.” Tommy’s fingers connect with your waist and your angelic giggles fill the air, the smile tracing his lips deepening.

Flipping over so that his body is snug between your legs, he continues his relentless tickle attack, relishing the feel of your body squirming underneath him as you desperately try to get away.

“To-tommy sto-stop tickling me!”

Your dainty hands barely manage to prise one hand from your waist before the other reconnects, rendering your muscles useless as you collapse into laughter.

“O-okay you win! I’m yo-yours, all yours!”

“Ah the magic words.”

Opening your eyes, you’re met with Tommy’s beautiful face beaming down at you, having obviously accomplished his mission. Draping your slender arms around his neck, you pull him into a kiss and his hands roam your body, tracing along each and every curve before settling for burying in your curls.

For the first time in six months, you and Tommy made love. Well, the first and second time, to be exact.

Hours later and Tommy is peeling his body off of yours, lungs begging for oxygen as the fragments of your mind recollect themselves - the ecstasy of your orgasms positively mind blowing.

“Tommy?”

“Mm?”

“Do you mind if we, um, maybe wait before telling everyone. I just don’t fancy them sticking their oar in, m’ really quite content just us” you muse, shifting into place beside him. Your touch dances along his collarbones, exploring every groove and crevice on its travels to his jawline.

Eyes closed, a lop-sided grin gracing those oh so plump lips. Silky brown waves marvellously tousled from hours of your fingers raking through them.

The man truly was a work of art.

Tommy hums softly in response, one lid opening to peer down at you before capturing your hand in his, lightly pecking each of your fingers along the way.

“Anything for you, Princess.”

With the ghost of his soft lips lingering, your focus shifts to the rhythmic beating of his heart, the rise and fall of his chest, the ever so slight twitch of his fingers. And so, wrapped securely in the arms of tender loving care, you drift off to sleep.

The next morning your small figure is weaving throughout the back streets of Small Heath, now an expert on the roads less traveled by Peaky Blinders and Co.

With blood pounding in your ear drums and your heart thuddering in your chest, you sneak through the creaky door making a beeline for the stairs.

“Where’ve you been?”

You reluctantly enter the kitchen, finding Polly at the breakfast table with a cup of tea to her left, an ashtray to her right and a heap of papers inbetween.

“Out.”

“Out where?”

“No where.”

“That hickey on your neck says otherwise” she smirks, finally raising her head to look at you.

Your hand pointlessly rushes to cover the purple bruise darkening by the minute on your jugular. “Shit!”

“So how is Tommy?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I said how is Tommy?” Polly repeats the question, panic creeping up your throat like bile.

“You mean... you know?”

“You didn’t really think I wouldn’t notice my own nephew sneaking in and out of this house every night. Give me some credit” she quips. “Don’t worry your little secret is safe with me.”

The parilysing fear immediately dissolves and you plunk yourself down at the table, a dreamy sigh leaving your mouth as you lay your head to rest in your palms.

“Oh Pol, it’s wonderful! He’s so- so-”

“Please, spare me the details.”

“-so perfect!”

“Y/N, he’s Tommy Shelby - perfect isn’t a word within that man’s description.”

“Well it is in mine” you mumble.

“Anyway since you’re here you can help me. We’re having a gathering tonight and I want everyone here so I need you to go and tell them. In the lounge, 6pm sharp.”

“Fine” you huff, rising from the table.

“Oh and Y/N, make sure you cover that thing up before you see John, we don’t need any more murders around here.”

Red hot flames lick at your cheeks and Polly’s lips stretch into a smirk once again, chuckling to herself as she returns to the paperwork before her.

By 6 o’clock all members of the Shelby clan are slowly trickling into the lounge. Tommy and yourself are the first to arrive and he immediately chooses the right corner seat, guiding your body into the empty space beside him.

“Alright Pol” Tom greets his aunt not bothering to make eye contact as he notices a stray curl fall into your eyes, gently tucking it back in it’s rightful place before leaving a quick kiss on your temple.

Polly’s eyes twinkle with amusement as she hands you both a whiskey.

“You’ll want to be a bit more discreet than that when the others turn up.”

“Yes thank you Pol” Tom replies sarcastically as you direct your attention to ridding your jumper of non-existent fluff.

“Alright Polly.”

Your head snaps to the source of the gruff voice, butterflies fluttering against the confines of your ribcage as you lock eyes with John.

“Ye alright love” he plants a kiss on the top of your head before collapsing into the free corner of the sofa.

John was a man of few words, those that didn’t know him might even say simple. But when it came to you, the unspoken language of Jonathon Shelby was one of the few you could speak, thus giving rise to the overly affectionate nature of your relationship.

If this was a few years ago - before Esme, before Tommy, before that tart in the back alley, when everything was right with the world - you’d be tucked up next to John, curled into his side with a strong arm wrapped firmly around your waist. His fingers would absentmindedly trail along your skin, a private joke or snarky comment whispered into your ear every now and then. And when he laughed, oh god when he laughed, each muscle would flex around you drawing you in closer, forcing every fibre of your being to fight the urge to kiss him.

But this was not a few years ago and things had changed, the harsh truth slapping you in the face like a wet fish as you catch sight of Esme trawling into the lounge; each butterfly erupting into a tiny globe of fire as she settles herself between you and John.

How beautifully ironic you thought, shifting yourself closer to Tommy.

Eventually Ada and Arthur arrive and the night rolls on. The whiskey burns through your veins, blending with your blood on its way straight to your head. With a fair amount of Dutch courage under your belt your body was craving the intimacy it was used to on a night like this. So taking your chances you snuggle into Tommy, allowing yourself to relax when you feel his arm instinctively snaking around you.

The action - which could easily be passed off as a caring moment between two friends - hadn’t gone unnoticed, and every muscle under John’s control seized up at the sight.

More stories poured out, along with many more drinks - you’d half a mind to suspect Polly was purposely fueling you with alcohol - and the more brazen you become, your legs now laying over Tommy’s with his left hand resting comfortably on your thighs.

You gently tap on the waistband of his suit trousers, and hope that Tommy understands your silent request. The movement was much too slight to draw any attention and he brings his left hand to scratch an itch that wasn’t there, before casually placing it over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze when he’s sure nobody has noticed.

He forgot, however, that Ada was positioned with a clear viewpoint of the loving act, sitting smugly on the arm next to him as she put two and two together. She thought the pair of you had been awfully happy lately, much too happy for it to be coincidental.

As everyone focused their attention on Polly and her latest crazy tale, John’s jaw clenched and unclenched for the hundredth time, the muscle aching under the constant tension. He sat on the other side of the sofa, soundlessly raging as he thought over the countless nights you’d been draped over him like that, whispering and giggling, eyes glistening with mischief as he shared another secret joke with you. Now here you were, draped over his brother, whispering and giggling as your eyes glistened with what he hoped was the large amount of whiskey you’d ingested, and not the same mischief you once shared with him.

Esme attempted to replicate your position, and she was met with John’s hand roughly pushing her aside. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take. He wasn’t even sure why he couldn’t take it - it’s not as if you’d ever be stupid enough to fall for his brother’s plan.

“Tommy stop!” you giggle, brushing his hand from your curls as he pretends to mess them up.

That was enough. “C’mon Es we’re going.”

Your laughter dies down as you look up at John, his blue orbs cold and hard as they stare back at you.

For once, you couldn’t place the unvoiced emotion set on his face. For once, you couldn’t read the man you once considered your best friend.

#by order of the peaky blinders #peaky fucking blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #john shelby x reader #John Shelby #john shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders oneshot #john shelby one shot #tommy shelby one shot #polly shelby #Arthur Shelby #ada shelby #x reader #fanfic

[jtrbluv]

resolutely, yours. | kth

summary: When your best-friend slash pain-in-your-ass, Kim Seokjin, drags you to a New Year’s Eve party that you didn’t want to go to in the first place, what better way is there to pass the time than to stay sober and watch all your classmates go berserk? Well, that is until Kim Taehyung steps into the picture, of course.

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 2.7k+

warnings: profanity, slight alcohol consumption, implied drug usage (two words only, i swear), college party antics should say enough

A/N: first fic of the year! W O O! this was supposed to be for tae’s birthday but i guess it’s fitting since it is the new year. a special thanks to miss mei @sugacouture for her likeness and @koushiningg aka the eternal hypewoman. this fic (drabble) is rly short but i do have a lot coming up in store! for now, hope u enjoy and happy new year everyone!

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You are going to murder Kim Seokjin.

The spiked punch that fills your red solo cup up to its brim has been waiting to be quaffed down for thirty-seven minutes now. Roughly five minutes before that, Seokjin had somehow managed to drag you through the front doors of the fraternity party he’s been wanting you to accompany him to for weeks now.

And it only takes ten minutes for the proclaimed party animal and people-person, Kim Seokjin, to vanish from your side. He leaves you to fend for yourself in a jungle full of plastered college students—priorities at the moment are to either drink so much liquid regret that they can’t even remember their own names, or to find someone to make out with when the clock strikes at midnight. From simple observation, you notice that most, if not everyone here, fall under both categories.

Well, the exception being you, of course.

One thing to note is that you actually do have a decent tolerance for alcohol. You were no stranger to it, and it would serve as a dutiful companion to you when times called for it. Like last week after your last final that you knew you fucking bombed.

However, the humidity of the room due to the accumulation of bodies that left little to no room for fresh air, in addition to the strong stench of alcohol mixed with sweat mixed with God knows what, just was not the ideal place for you to get wasted. It didn’t stand close in comparison to drinking with a solid group of close friends, or by yourself in the comfort of your bed while a shitty rom-com plays in the background on your laptop.

The atmosphere is suffocating all of your senses— tears pricking at the corners of your eyes due to the strong odor of the room, the curled front pieces of your hair dampening and sticking to your temples, your mouth and throat dry as the Sahara Desert because, of fucking course, there is absolutely no water to be seen.

The small black dress and heels that Seokjin forced you to wear was worsening the situation greatly—your legs practically glued stuck to the stool you were sitting on, leading to ugly red marks and stinging skin if you tried to stand up.

You could not take being inside any longer. Instead of passing out from being piss drunk, you were almost adamant that you were going to pass out from the grueling mix of heat exhaustion and secondhand high.

Your grip on the solo cup significantly tightens, nearly crushing the plastic in half. You quickly stand up from the stool you were sitting in, the sensation akin to getting your legs waxed as you take a deep inhale through your nose, mentally preparing yourself to dive into this sea of financially obligated, depressed monsters.

Peculiarly, you manage to shove your way through a good chunk of the mass, your eyes set on the door that leads towards the balcony. Your ankles almost completely give into your weight a concerning number of times, and if it wasn’t for all of the arms of oblivious partygoers that you had clung onto for dear life, you probably wouldn’t be able to stand on your own two feet by now.

Solely occupied with trying to navigate your way through the crowd, you don’t even realize that someone bumped into you and spilled your drink all over your dress until you reach the balcony. The cold, night breeze passes over your body, leaving chills on the huge wet patch on your dress. The one goddamn time your dress sees the light of day, you just so happen to find a way to ruin it.

“Fucking hell!” You holler into the vacant balcony, your hands coming up to carefully poke at the wet patch on your dress. You wince as the soaked, freezing fabric comes in contact with your bare stomach. Angry, you chug down the rest of the drink inside your cup and chuck it off the balcony, too enraged to even react to its strong taste.

Shivering, you walk deeper onto the balcony, cradling yourself and staring at your shoes, a string of curses spewing from your lips. You scold yourself for not bringing a jacket while simultaneously plotting your revenge against Seokjin. A pair of black loafers intrude your vision, accompanied by a husky voice that calls out to you,

“Oh shit, are you okay?”

Your head shoots up, your eyes meeting the ones of the man standing in front of you. He towers above you significantly despite you wearing heels. His eyes are only a tad obscured by the soft, brown curls of his hair, perfectly styled and gelled to have that ‘purposefully messy’ look. The only difference being that models stood no chance against him when he was the blueprint himself. The black button up he’s clad in exquisitely accentuates every crevice of his lean, chiseled body. And his eyes that were already alluring on their own, were adorn with hazel-colored contacts that you swear you could stare at for hours upon hours. He is so otherworldly beautiful, you temporarily forget to breathe.

And you also forget that you are just staring at him, and he is staring back at you with a smile.

Times like this is when you wish you were at least a little buzzed. Sober ‘you’ is way too socially inept to fend for themself sadly. “O-oh i’m fine, someone just spilled their drink on me.”

Maybe it’s the way the moon sits behind him and casts a halo-like glow around his figure or how he’s just been staring straight into your eyes this whole time, like it’s second nature whilst you can only hold eye contact with him for two seconds before instinctively shying away. To say that his presence frightened you was an understatement. You were about to take cover and hide under the patio table like a five-year-old if he kept looking at you like that.

He blinks, his mouth stretching into a wide grin, rectangular-shaped and having the ability to ease your nerves. He places his drink on a patio table, dusting his hands on his pants, “Here, I’ll get you some napkins, just stay here.”

Stunned, it isn’t until he leaves that you yell out to him as he steps back inside the chaos, “Thank you!”

You carefully sit down on a patio chair, your arms still wrapped around your shivering torso while you try to breathe warm air into your cupped hands.

The man steps out onto the balcony minutes later, his fists full of paper towels as he hands them to you. “Here you go.”

You graciously take them, blotting your dress with the paper towels, your nose scrunching at the scent of alcohol that you had no choice but to inhale. “Thank you so much, really.” You say— still very much shocked to know that chivalry isn't quite dead yet. “It’s Taehyung, right?”

He nods, “Yeah, and you’re Y/N?

Your pause, your hand hovering over your dress as you look up and nod with a forced smile, “No but really, thank you. You didn’t have to.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sorry that it happened in the first place,” he says apologetically, as if it was his fault, “it seems like everyone’s already out of their minds, and it isn’t even midnight yet.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” you assure him, which seems to work because his eyes soften a bit, “besides, I guess it’s my fault for coming here in the first place. I knew something like this was gonna happen and now here I am, smelling like cheap, convenience store vodka.”

He chuckles, and you swear you’ve never been so elated to make someone laugh until now, “I somehow managed to beat the crowd. I’ve literally just been standing out here by myself for a good hour now.”

You sigh in envy, “Must be nice.”

“Too bad you couldn’t make it, it’s been awfully quiet up here.” He says, pivoting on his heel to look at the rest of the empty balcony.

Your eyes trail to the commotion inside the house, the crowd still going strong, “Are we really the only sober ones here?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, we’re just the only ones stupid enough to show up at a college party on New Year’s Eve, expecting to have a good time sober while everyone’s getting plastered.”

The unexpected truth pill causes you to enter a fit of laughter, small clouds of air leaving your mouth every time you exhale. He laughs along with you. “Yeah we are pretty stupid, I do admit.” You concur, while rubbing at your arms that were covered in goosebumps.

“Do you want my jacket?” He asks you while pointing to the black blazer that’s slung on top of the chair next to you.

You wrinkle your nose, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, before I put it on you myself,” he giggles with a roll of his eyes.

Shaking your head, you grab the blazer and wrap it around your shoulders. You stand up from your seat and turn towards him, brow quirked. “A-are you not cold? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

“I’m fine, I swear,” he counters, reaching out to help you slip your arms into his huge jacket sleeves, “I’m also not wearing a sleeveless dress.” He teases, eyeing you up and down as he takes in how oversized his jacket is on you. He thinks it looks much better when you’re wearing it, but he won’t tell you that.

“Right…” you drag out, following his footsteps as he motions you to follow him towards the edge of the balcony.

You two stand next to each other, leaning against the edge, arms nearly brushing against one another.

“So Taehyung, what brings you here in the first place?” You ask, knowing that he seems just as displeased to be here as much as you are.

“I got dragged here by a friend, Park Jimin, in particular.” He responds with a frown, “I have no idea where the fuck he is now, he literally left me as soon as we got here.”

Turning towards him incredulously, your brows raise and the corner of your lip curls into a smirk, “You don’t say.”

Confused, but also curious about the expression painted across your face, he quirks a brow, “Hm?”

You close your mouth, crossing your arms tighter around yourself, “I got dragged here by a friend too. Kim Seokjin. That asshole left me as soon as we got here too.”

He steps back, scoffing in disbelief, “Wow, we really just got stood up by our own friends.” Taehyung proclaims into the vacant balcony, for both him and you— the thought of it sounding even more pathetic after being said out loud.

“They’re pretty goddamn close to losing that title now.” You quip, shaking your head in dismay.

His head rocks back, a lively laugh leaving his lips due to your comment which makes you smile at the fact that you are even able to make him laugh like this.

“Damn it Y/N, you should’ve came out sooner, we could’ve been having a good time out here.” He tells you with a pout as his laughter starts to dwindle.

Sighing heavily, you too, feel regretful about the missed opportunity, “I really should have.”

He nudges you with his elbow, “At least you’re here now.”

The bass-boosted music from inside the house ceases, the room becoming momentarily quieter while someone bellows out, “Hey look, it’s the countdown!”

Everyone’s focus shifts towards the gigantic flat screen TV that hung above the fireplace, making you realize where the fraternity funds truly go to. You and Taehyung exchange glances before shrugging and moving closer to all the commotion since it was New Year’s Eve, above all.

He leans against the doorframe and you stay close to his side, the number ten flashing brightly on the screen—the crowd’s shouts getting louder as it reaches the final ten seconds of the year.

Instead of shouting out the numbers with the rest of the mass, you and Taehyung are simply witnessing it all fold out in silence.

“EIGHT!”

‘You got any New Year’s resolutions?!” You nudge him while attempting to yell over the noise.

His head whips towards you, “Me?!”

“SEVEN!”

Your brows furrow, “Does it look like I’m talking to anyone else?!”

His mouth splits into a grin once more, folding over in laughter just enough to meet eye-to-eye with you.

“SIX!”

“I mean! I didn’t have one originally!”

The crease in your brows dissipate, “Well, what changed?!”

“FIVE!”

His head tilts to the side, “I came here!”

You mirror his head tilt, confused as ever, “Um, so you wanna go to more parties next year?!”

“FOUR!”

He slaps a palm against his forehead, “From what you know about me, does it look like I like parties?!”

“How the hell would I know?!”

His jaw drops, “Y/N—!”

“THREE!”

“—I wanna get to know you better Y/N!”

Your jaw drops as well, “What?! Me?!”

“TWO!”

“Is there any other Y/N standing in front of me?!”

“I– oh...”

“ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The crowd shouts together in unison despite all being under the influence. A confetti cannon erupts, flying around the room and falling into people’s hair as the mass starts to split into pairs, all partaking in the traditional New Year’s kiss that you personally haven’t had much luck in participating in yourself.

You rip your gaze away to look at Taehyung. He smiles, pulling a piece of confetti out of hair, making your cheeks flush. “Happy New Year, Y/N.”

“Happy New Year, Taehyung.”

The small amount of alcohol you consumed when you first stepped foot onto the balcony leaves you slightly buzzed. Just enough to leave you with the right amount of courage to vouch for the nickname.

You take a daring step towards the man in front of you, “I also have a resolution of my own, Taehyung.”

He takes an even more daring step towards you, having the audacity to lean down— your faces only inches apart. “And what is that, may I ask?”

Grabbing onto the collar of his shirt, you close the gap in between the two of you, locking your lips with his. The kiss isn’t short enough to be a peck but isn’t long enough to be considered making out. You pull away enough to be able to see his face, “Is to get to know you better too.”

He chuckles, “Y/N, your lips taste like spiked punch.”

Pouting, you bump your forehead into his, “All I drank was whatever you saw me have at the balcony, I swear.”

He pecks your nose, your frown immediately wiping away as he does so, “I trust you.”

You smile, giving him a peck on the mouth, “As you should.”

“I’d kiss you again, but you probably can’t stand being here any longer. Let’s get out of here.” He tells you, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You slide your arm onto his, interlocking his fingers with your own, “I think you’ve already completed your resolution Taehyung. You seem to know me so well already.”

Pushing through the crowd, he hooks an arm onto your waist while he shoves a path for you two to get through, “Too bad I don’t know where you wanna go though.”

You hum, thinking for a moment before your grumbling stomach answers for you, “I’m hungry, let’s go grab burgers or something.”

You don’t see the way Taehyung is fondly staring at you because you’re too busy trying to open the front door. At last, you manage to pry it open, stepping back outside while Taehyung’s holding you in his arms. It’s not that cold this time.

Taehyung’s hands land on both of your shoulders— turning you around to face him as he swiftly latches his lips onto yours. You stumble back, but his hand is quick to support you as he kisses you deeply. You kiss him back, letting your fingers curl around the curls of his hair.

He pulls back this time, letting his forehead rest on yours, “Y/N, I think you are the one that’s completed your resolution. How the hell did you know that I fucking love burgers?”

-

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MASTERLIST

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