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princessofmarvel · 8 months

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Business and dates

summary | when grace leaves, it leaves the shelbys with a heartbroken thomas. polly takes this as an opportunity to get him with the girl she's always wanted him with

pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader

word count | 2.30k

genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst!

requested? | yes! thank you so much for your request! i had so much writing it, and i am kind of proud of this one, lol.

warnings! | mentions of bullying, and the reader not eating from being worried! and, i have not proof read this yet!

author’s note! | Hi! Thank you all for being so patient as I worked on this! Requests are open for drabbles, and headcanons only at the moment for these characters! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!

No one knew what had happened that day. All anyone knew was that Grace was suddenly gone, and that she had left the Shelby family with a heartbroken Thomas. And the person left to pick up the pieces was his lifelong best friend, who has been in love with Thomas since the day they met back when they were just small kids.

Thomas was having a decent day, school had just let out and he was walking back home (alone because his older brother Aurther thought that it would be funny to run off before Thomas got out of class) when he saw a young girl getting picked on.

“Stop it! This is my favorite skirt!” Thomas heard her yell to the kids that had her on the ground, kicking dirt onto her clothes while laughing and taunting her. Thomas knew that these kids were practically afraid of him, so he knew he could get them to leave the girl alone. He also knew that his mother would scold him if she found out that he didn’t do anything to help her.

“Oi! Leave her alone, or I'll put a curse on you!” Thomas called out as he made his way up to the group, and pulled a razor blade out of his pocket. The kids practically scattered the moment they heard Thomas’ voice. Leaving just him, and the girl with dirt on her clothes.

“Thank you” He heard the girl say in a quiet voice as he put his hand out to help her back up.

“What caused that?” He asked, curious as to what the girl could have done to anger the other kids so much.

“I-I told them that I wouldn’t do their homework.” She said back to him, as she tried to get the dirt off of her skirt. Thomas told himself that he should have known it was something like that. There wasn’t anything serious that this girl could have done to upset them so much.

“Come on, I’ll walk you home, you live on Watery lane, right?” He said as he started walking, with the girl running a bit to catch up with him. He knew her name, he recognized her from school. She lived right across from him, but they never said anything to each other. She had been over to play with Ada sometimes, but they never spoke.

Neither one of them said anything as they walked, it wasn’t until they got to her home that Thomas spoke up.

“They shouldn’t bother you again, no one should.” He said as he stood outside her doorstep, seeming almost sorry since he knew his reputation, and how kids would stay away from him in fear of getting cursed.

“It’s alright, I don’t really have any friends anyways.” The small girl said, while rocking back and forth on her heels.

“Why don’t you come play at my house? I know my family won’t mind.” He said to her with a small smile. Truth be told, Thomas didn’t really have many friends either, and he saw an opportunity to make one.

Ever since then, the two were inseparable. They did everything together, they were even each other's first kiss. Her family was weary at first, but soon saw how protective the Shelby boys (and the rest of the Shelby family) were over her, and grew to like them. The two were like this up until Thomas was called to war

“Tommy, this has to be a mistake.” The girl cried into Thomas’ shoulder as he held her. “All three of you at the same time? What kind of cruel joke is this”

“The universe has a funny way of doing things.” He mumbled into her hair, his hand resting on the back of her head. “I’ll come back, sweetheart.”

“You don’t know that, Tommy” The girl said as she pulled her head out of his shoulder, and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy.

“You really think I'm leaving you yet? You think I'm going to leave you before you get married? Please, your future husband doesn’t get off that easily.” He said with a small laugh while trying to lighten the mood as he held her face with his hand. “Nothings taking me from you, not yet.”

“You better come back, Shelby.” She said as she looked up at him with glossy eyes. “Or, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.”

Thomas laughed and kissed her head, as the air in the room changed. He didn’t know why, but he leaned down and kissed her lips softly, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave without giving her a kiss, even just a light one. “You’ve got nothing to worry about” He said as he pulled away.

She believed him, she tried not to worry. She didn’t worry until his letters stopped coming. After a month of not hearing from him she worried so much she got sick. She wrote him everyday, sent him a letter at least once a week, if not twice. No word of his death ever came.

The day Thomas arrived home, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Polly. His heart broke when he saw her, she was paler, and her face was skinny, all signs to her not eating properly. Neither one of them said a word to each other for a week. It wasn’t until (Y/n) decided that she had enough, and stormed into his room.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, growing red in the face.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, not meeting her eyes, already knowing what she was talking about,

“You! You come back, and are completely different! You’re cold, and mean to everyone, which maybe you were that way to some people before, but never to me! Never to your family!” As she yelled at him, she started to sway as if she was about to faint. Before she could hit the floor, Thomas grabbed her and set her down on the bed beside him.

“You need to eat something.” He mumbled, not looking at her which infuriated her more.

“I thought you were dead.” This caught his attention as he heard her start to cry. He finally turned to her. “You stopped writing.”

“I didn’t know how to write to you, you would ask me how I was, and I couldn’t find it in myself to tell you about how I had just watched a man die. I thought it better to not write.” He said, pulling her into his chest. “Why are you not eating?”

“You worried me, anything I ate just came back up.” She mumbled into his chest.

“I told you not to worry.” He said with a small laugh coming from his chest, the first in a long time.

“Tough shit, Shelby.” She mumbled back, while pulling her head out of his chest.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the other, until Thomas finally spoke up. “I’m trying to get back to normal.” He mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, she wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been so close.

“I know, it will just take some time.” She said while she caressed his cheek. “And, I’ll be here to help you heal.”

After that day, nothing ever really went back to how it was before the war. But it was like that for everyone. Thomas had gone back to normal as much as he could. He had his moments, but everyone did. And, (Y/n) didn’t lie, she was there every step of the way, even in the bad times she never left.

The two never fought again until the day Grace left. She had tried telling Thomas before that something was up with her, but he just wouldn’t listen. The only other person that seemed to notice it was Polly.

“He’ll never go for it.” John pipped into the conversation. Polly was currently trying to figure out a way to cheer Thomas up, and the idea she had was to put Thomas with (Y/n). She already considered the girl a daughter, and she always wanted her with Thomas. To her, it was the perfect plan.

“That's why we don’t tell him! All we tell him is that he has a business meeting at the new restaurant, he’ll show up, expecting some business man to be there, but instead (Y/n) will come in wearing the most beautiful thing I can find, that he’ll just have to stay.” Polly explained to the boys and Ada.

“Alright, but how are you going to get (Y/n) there, dressed up, without suspecting anything?” Ada chimed in.

“We’ll tell her a boy stopped by and asked to take her out.” Polly said, as if it was obvious.

“Please, she’s not going to just agree to go out with someone, especially if she doesn’t even know who it is.” Arthur muttered.

"Actually she might.” John announced to everyone. “Just to make Thomas jealous, she mentioned it back when Grace was around.”

The Shelby’s set everything into motion that night. Polly told Thomas he had a meeting, then she told (Y/n) about the secret man that wanted to take her out.

So Thomas sat in his suit, waiting for this man to show, when he saw (Y/n) walk through the door, dressed like a vision in her red, drop waist, beaded dress, with an old pearl necklace to match. She looked around the room, until her eyes landed on Thomas.

“What are you doing here?” She asked him, as she walked up to his table.

“Business meeting, what are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly growing jealous at the thought of her being here for another man.

“A date, and what business meeting? I know your schedule, there wasn’t one planned, did you make one?” She asked, wondering who on earth Thomas could be meeting for business at this hour.

“No, Polly told me I had one, who’s the date?” He asked, his jealousy rising.

“Not sure, Polly told me-” A look of realization crossed both their faces “Polly” The two said in unison.

She decided to sit down, now laughing to herself. “You’re the date.”

“You’re the business.” Thomas responded, a small smile growing to his face.

The two sat there for a minute, before Thomas spoke up. “You do look stunning.”

“Polly picked it.” She said, with a small laugh.

“I bet she did.” Thomas said with a laugh, and a sigh. “She’s wanted us together for ages.” He mumbled.

“And what do you want?” The girl asked. Thomas had always had a feeling that (Y/n) liked him, he was just never sure how much, until he looked up and met her eyes that were filled with nothing but love and want.

“You in my life.” He said, keeping his eyes on her. “I thought a relationship between us would mess everything up. I couldn’t risk losing you.”

“Thomas.” The girl said, grabbing his hand across the table. “You could never lose me, even if we did have a relationship and it failed, I would still love you. But, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.”

“I have distracted myself from you for as long as I can remember. I wouldn’t let myself fall for you.” Thomas said, standing up from the table, (Y/n) following.

“It’s okay to fall, Thomas, who knows, maybe it won’t hurt.” She said, as she placed a hand to his face. Without thinking, Thomas leaned in and kissed her with everything in him, causing her to hit the table, his hands on the side of her face being the only thing to keep them from falling. The pair kissed until they needed air. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers.

“Let’s give this a try.” He whispered, looking into her eyes.

The girl smiled and gave Thomas a quick peck, before they left the restaurant, her holding his arm. The walk back to the Shelby home was mostly quiet, until she spoke up. “Thank god for Polly.”

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #cillian murphy #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby fic #tommy shleby fic #thomas shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby fluff #tommy shelby fluff #thomas shelby angst #tommy shelby angst #thomas shelby peaky blinders #tommy shelby peaky blinders #peaky blinders

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444rockstargf · 7 months

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kinktober day 4.

10.07 - KNIFE PLAY | EURONYMOUS!

݁ ˖🕸️.𖥔 ݁ ˖ {tags} @willsdollface @bub0nic-plague @izuoyarmin @auggiethecreator @angelsanarchy @s-al-em @that-one-persons-posts @kashmirclam @areuirish

previous: 10.05 - DEGRADTION!

female!reader x euronymous

word count: 1.0k

contents: cutting, name carving, fingering, pussy slapping, blood, squirting

as one would think, halloween was the only holiday that euronymous even considered paying any mind to. he didn’t like trick or treating, decorating, or dressing up, but ever since you started dating, he’d developed a strong liking for seeing whatever slutty costume you had prepared.

usually you’d sneak him a little look of what you were planning to wear for him, but this year you waited until the very last minute to show him what you’d been cooking up. he knocked on your bedroom door. “you ok in there? you’re awfully quiet…” his timing was perfect, you were just getting done the finishing touches.

“almost done, euro!” you called out, looking at yourself in the mirror one last time before opening the door, standing there on full display for him. you had put on a little black leather skirt, a lacy black cami top, torn fishnet stockings and a pair of his black boots. an ensemble that you’d knew he’d been dreaming about seeing you in for the longest time.

his jaw physically dropped as his eyes lustfully travelled down your body. he chuckled softly, “now that’s what i like to see, baby…” he picked you up, making you wrap your smooth legs around his waist as he carried you onto the bed. you gasped as he took charge so quickly, but this was exactly the outcome you had been expecting and working towards.

you pushed you onto the bed, setting himself on top of you as his hand travelled to your hips and downwards. it stopped at your thigh, his nails easily tearing the ruined fishnets even more. had had grown painfully hard in the past minute, feeling his mind fill with all the things that he wanted to do to you tonight.

he sunk down a little, setting himself in between your legs and allowing your soft thighs to cradle him gently. he reached into his pocket, pulling out an item that you’d seen many times before. he flicked open his skull-handled switch blade, the end glistening menacingly in the dim glow of the room.

he forced you thighs apart, looking up at you before making any sudden moves. “is this ok..?” he pressed the end of the blade into your skin, causing you to gasp. you nodded without a second thought which was the only signal he needed to get started. he tugged the skirt just enough to get perfect access to your inner thighs.

“i think you’d look really pretty with my name printed right here…” he traced out a circle with the tip. your breath hitched as euronymous dragged the sharp, steel blade across the soft skin of your inner thigh. his warm breath sent shivers down your spine as it fueled the warm feeling growing inside your core.

he had you on the bed, legs spread as he sat between them and wrote out his name on your inner thigh using his most prized blade. he cuts out every letter with razor-sharp precision, the sound of your strained whimpers encouraging him to push it a little further each time.

every time the blade reconnected with your skin, you winced and tugged on his long black hair, only to his delight. “c’mon angel, you can take it.” your legs were nearly crushing his head, but he forced them back open and gave you a slap on the thigh. there was something about the thrill of getting treated like this that sent vibrations through your core.

you squirmed as his calloused fingers dug into your bare thighs, your eyes glistening with tears as he traced out random little shapes all over you. he looked like he was having the time of his life, holding the knife in his veiny hands as he designed your body. “you look so pretty like this, angel. all bruised up just for me…”

your legs began to shake with desire as your bud throbbed against the thin fabric of your panties. euronymous ran the side of the knife down your clothed slit, making you gasp. “you’re fuckin’ dripping, doll… and i haven't even touched you yet” he slapped your wet cunt, looking at the way his fingers just barely glistened from your wetness.

he slipped your panties to the side, revealing your swollen, wet clit that was just begging for some attention. he looked at you, his icy blue eyes burning holes into your soul. he slowly dragged the flat side of the blade down your slit, picking up strings of your slick.

you couldn't explain why, but you enjoyed the slight pain and discomfort that came with the fear of your fragile skin being torn up. he slapped the blade against you a few times, making you whine. “e-euro please..!” you pleaded, but he continued teasing you, refusing to give you the relief that you craved so badly.

he spat on your pussy, squeezing your ass just enough to make your pussy lips spread. he stick in a finger, and then one more inside of your pulsating hole, his finger instantly being covered in your cum. just as you were about to make a sound, he roughly pumped his fingers into you, hard enough to make your entire body shake.

you screamed out, gripping the bedsheets until your knuckles went numb. your bloody thighs spread even further apart as he pushed his fingers against your bladder, making small squirts of cum erupt from your core. you moaned out his name, begging him to slow down but wishing for the opposite.

he curled his finger inside of you, causing a geyser to flow out of you. he pulled his fingers out as your fountain rained all over his face, drenching him completely in your fluids. he used his thumb to massage your aching clit as you got every last drop out of you, completely ruining the bedsheets that you found yourself changing more and more frequently.

he chuckled softly, wiping off the blade on his shirt. “so perfect for me.” he kissed the wounds on your thigh, smearing the blood just a little. you panted as you came down from your high, keeping a hand in his hair for support. he pulled you into a soft, demanding kiss, running his hand down your body.

you couldn't admit it, but you thought the wound looked quite nice on you.

author's note: this whole rory situation is actually insane! but kinktober isnt cancelled and i will still be posting as usual :)) also, that pic of him face painting his new gf actually has me going insane!

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #euronymous #lords of chaos #smut #october #kinktober #halloween #autumn #444rockstargf #knifeplay #knife kink #knife k!nk

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yeoosaangg · 7 months

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Bad Idea || Kinktober - Day 3

pairing ▸ jung wooyoung × f!reader

now playing ▸ bad idea - dove cameron

⤷ ❝i've got a lot of sins, but you're my favorite.❞

genre ▸ college au, (one-sided) "enemies" to lovers, kinda angsty, smut

warnings ▸ mommy kink, dry humping, marking, degradation, biting, mentions of depression, self-harm, blood, attempted suicide, hospitalization

--------

You sit in a circle, bored out of your mind.

A bunch of drunk college students thought it'd be fun to play a silly party game called "Seven Minutes in Heaven".

The last pair of students came back with swollen lips and a few hickeys.

Typical.

Chaewon: Alright! Y/n, spin the bottle.

Y/n: I told you I wasn't playing.

Chaewon: Just do it once! You don't actually have to do stuff in the closet. Just wait until the seven minutes are over.

If she wasn't your friend, you'd punch her. But you sigh, spinning the stupid bottle.

It comes to a stop and you look up at the chosen one you'd be locked in a closet with.

Oh, fuck no! Absolutely not.

Chaewon: Off you two go! Try not to kill each other please.

Easy for her to say!

Wooyoung smirks, confidently walking towards the closet. You follow, putting as much distance between you and the boy as possible.

Hendery: Game starts as soon as I close this door.

Then he slams it shut, locking it from the outside.

Wooyoung: I see you’ve grown out of your baby cheeks.

Y/n: Is that a compliment?

Wooyoung: Just an observation.

Y/n: Whatever.

He chuckles.

Wooyoung: Haven't seen you since junior year of high school.

You cross your arms, staring at your feet. Why is he talking to you like you're old friends catching up. You just want to leave this stupid closet.

Y/n: For good reason.

Wooyoung: Why? We used to be great friends.

Y/n: Like you care.

Wooyoung: Of course I care.

If he did, he would've been there for you when you needed him the most. But he wasn't.

Y/n: Just shut up.

Wooyoung frowns. You never talked to him this way before, what happened? Why'd you drift so far away from him? When did you get so cold?

Wooyoung: Why do you hate me so much?

You scoff. There's no need for him to know, it already happened.

Y/n: Figure it out if you want to know so bad.

He whines quietly.

It'd be easier to clear the air if you'd just talk to him. Why are you being difficult?

He pouts, not liking how you're ignoring him. So he starts kicking your leg to catch your attention.

Y/n: Quit it!

Wooyoung: Not until you tell me what I did.

Y/n: Ugh, fine!

He smiles triumphantly, leaning forward with anticipation.

Y/n: Remember when I spam called you the night you went to Yeosang's birthday party?

He nods.

He was going to call you back when Yeosang took his phone away so he wouldn't be distracted. He meant to follow up with you, but you disappeared.

Y/n: Massive trigger warning, but I was going through a rough depressive episode and needed someone to distract me from doing something really bad.

Wooyoung's smile drops, his shoulders slumping in sadness.

Y/n: When you didn't pick up, I got upset and the bad thoughts got worse. My mom was home, so I couldn't do it there... But I ended up walking to the nearby bridge.

Wooyoung's stomach tightens, a few tears falling down his face.

Y/n: I took out the razor blade I had in my pocket and cut really deep into my arms. I threw it into the river below me and I climbed the railing.

Wooyoung's bottom lip trembled, taking your hand in his. You didn't pull away from him, which made him feel hopeful.

Y/n: Before I could jump, Haknyeon saved me.

Wooyoung: My friend?

Y/n: Mhm. He said his family was on their way back from eating out at a restaurant when he recognized me and told his dad to stop the car.

Wooyoung: I'm happy he did.

Y/n: I wasn't. But he never told anyone what happened. He covered for me and lied to my mom about what happened. He helped me get better until I fully recovered.

He should thank Haknyeon. His best friend wouldn't be here today if he hadn't been there to save you.

Wooyoung: That's why you randomly disappeared... Because you were in the hospital.

You nod, smiling at him.

Y/n: Very dark period in my life. I still have some days where I'm feeling icky, but not as bad as that day. I hope I never get to that point again.

Wooyoung: I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.

Y/n: You didn't know. But I still held a grudge 'cause you promised never to ignore me.

Wooyoung: And I wasn't! But Yeosang took my phone and told me to stop letting you distract me.

Y/n: Why would I be a distraction?

He clears his throat, feeling a bit embarrassed now. It's not an appropriate time to talk about that.

Hendery: Five minutes!

Right, they're still playing the game.

Wooyoung: Ain't no way that was two minutes. This feels rigged!

Hendery: Maybe if you weren't boring and kissed her, time would go by faster!

Kiss?!

Wooyoung: He's crazy.

Y/n: Yeah, but he's hot so it cancels out.

Wooyoung: You think he's hot?

Y/n: Well, yeah. But I wouldn't date him.

Wooyoung: Would you fuck him?

Huh?

Y/n: Why're you asking?

Wooyoung: I'm curious.

Y/n: No. We're both dominant types in the bedroom, it wouldn't work out.

He hums in acknowledgement.

Wooyoung: What about me? Would you fuck me?

Y/n: Do you want me to?

He shivers in place before answering.

Wooyoung: Yes.

Oh!

Wooyoung clears his throat, not expecting the conversation to have gone this route.

But he likes it.

Wooyoung: I've always had a crush on you. Ever since we met, actually.

Y/n: Damn. If you had asked me out when were were kids, I would've accepted.

Wooyoung: And if I ask you now?

Y/n: I wouldn't hate the idea.

Wooyoung: Do you want to go on a date with me?

Your smile beams, making his worries disappear.

Y/n: I'd love to, baby.

He giggles, hiding his face behind his hands. You coo, moving to sit next to him.

Wooyoung: Can I call you Mommy when we're alone?

Fucking hell.

Y/n: Yeah, baby. You most definitely can.

Wooyoung: Okay.

You can see him let himself go, letting you see the side of him no one else can see.

Wooyoung: Can I kiss you, Mommy?

Y/n: Come sit on my lap, precious.

He wastes no time sitting on your lap and wrapping his arms around your neck. His body melts at your touch, your lips dancing with his.

He angles his hips so his crotch rubs against your clothed heat. He softly whines into your mouth, loving the feeling of having you to himself.

Y/n: Baby, can I mark you?

Wooyoung: Yes, please. Want people to know I'm Mommy's.

You smile, pulling down the fabric of his hoodie. Your hot tongue licks the skin of his collarbone before you paint a few red marks on him.

You know they'll bruise later.

His hips stutter, loving how intimate and scandalous this was. Inside of someone else's closet at that.

Y/n: Look at you, so desperate for me. Mommy's little whore.

Wooyoung: Mommy, please.

Y/n: Please, what, baby?

Wooyoung hides in the crook of your neck as his rhythm picks up pace, whimpering at how good he's feeling.

Hendery: Three minutes!

Wooyoung quietly whines. He doesn't want this moment to end. He pulls down your shirt and starts biting your shoulder.

Y/n: I like that a lot, baby.

You moves your hands from his hips to his ass, giving him a hard squeeze. He chokes on his moan, not wanting Hendery to hear.

Y/n: Is my pretty boy feeling shy?

Thing is, he has no problem acting like an arrogant asshole all the the time. But when it comes to the bedroom, he turns into mush and wants to be held.

He wants you to reduce him to nothing but Mommy's fucktoy.

Y/n: Aww, look at you. What happened to the boy that was so bold and sure of himself just moments ago? Why do you seem so small now?

His brain short-circuits. Your tone was sickenly sweet and soft, but your words were mocking him. It's confusing his brain.

Y/n: What's wrong, baby? Is it too much to process with that little brain of yours, hm?

Wooyoung: I- Um, w-we... What's-

He looks so fucking cute. You want to fuck him silly, but that can wait for another day.

Y/n: Look at you, stuttering and tripping over you words. How about I shut you up, baby.

He gasps as you kiss him. He feels so good, loving the way you're holding him.

You hum, sliding your hand under his hoodie. You pull him impossibly closer, using your tongue to part his lips.

He quietly whines, rememberng where you guys were.

Hendery: One minute!

Y/n: How about you make yourself cum, baby?

Wooyoung presses into you, the friction stimulating you both. He inhales another moan, trying his best to keep his sounds at bay.

Wooyoung: Gonna cum, Mommy.

His muffled words were so cute, but you understand him perfectly.

Y/n: Go ahead, baby. Let it out for me.

His hips stutter, releasing inside his underwear. You cum at the same time, feeling your panties soak.

He whines, feeling sticky but so good.

Wooyoung: Thank you, Mommy. Was so good.

Y/n: Of course, my cute boy. Now, fix yourself up, We've got 15 seconds.

You smirk, watching him pull down his oversized hoodie over the front of his jeans. He wipes his face and fixes his hair just in time.

Hendery: Wow, you two really are lame.

Y/n: Thanks, Dery.

Hendery: You guys didn't even talk?

Y/n: What's there to talk about?

Your friend rolls his eyes and pushes you out of the closet.

Wooyoung immediately goes back into his confident and arrogant persona. But you know the truth.

Wooyoung: She's a buzzkill, dude. I need another drink.

They wrap their arms around each other and follow you back into the other room so other people can play the game.

---

a/n: yeah, idk. i think i'm incapable of NOT adding some sort of plot... the song barely has connection to the fic, i just like it. thanks for reading ‹𝟹

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runnning-outof-time · 1 year

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The Same Situation | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @mrsalwayswrite

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: Tommy's so worried about Freddie Thorne being with his sister, Ada, that he doesn't even realize that he himself is in just about the same situation with Freddie's sister, (Y/N). What happens when Freddie finds out that the same thing is happening on the flip side of it all?

Warnings: language, death threats, weapons

Word Count: 3504

A/N: I strayed a bit from canon on this one to make it make sense, so I hope that that’s fine. I didn’t expect for it to turn out this good, but I have to say that I’m pretty pleased with it. The italicized dialogue comes right from the show. Enjoy:)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

(Y/N) was working on tidying up the displays at her family's bakery when the shop's main door opened. She didn't even need to look up to know who it was; she recognized the sound of his shoes on the hardwood. "Tommy! Where've you been these past few days?" She asked as she looked up. But Tommy Shelby didn't respond. Instead he kept walking.

(Y/N) scoffed as she set down the cake she had so that she could follow the man into the back area of the bakery. "What's going on, Tommy?" she asked him another question, hoping to gain an answer from him this time. But he still said nothing. Instead he dropped his peaked cap onto the counter, the razor blades sewn into it clanging off of the metallic surface, and fished his pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of the jacket he had on. "You know you can't smoke in here," (Y/N) pointed out, her hands falling onto her hips.

That was the sentence that finally made Tommy look at her. He'd frozen with the cigarette between his lips and an ablaze match just about ready to light it. (Y/N) raised her eyebrows at him, as if she was daring him to go ahead and disregard her statement. They held each other's gaze for a few moments before Tommy hissed from the fire licking his fingertips. He quickly shook out the match and tossed it into the sink before he took the cigarette from between his lips and put it back into its packet with a sigh.

"Care to tell me what's gotten into you?" (Y/N) asked him then, her one eyebrow still quirked.

"It's just one problem after a-fucking-nother," he mumbled, his lips pursing together in a brooding scowl.

"Well that answer told me everything," she pointed out, a slight bit of sarcasm laced into her words.

"Ada's pregnant," he forced out then, running a stressed hand over his face after he spoke.

"She is?" she responded, her eyes wide as shock filled her features, "who...who is...?"

"It's Freddie," Tommy hated the fact that those two words tasted like poison as he said them, "it's fucking Freddie," he added then for dramatic measure, the infuriation now fully present in his voice.

"My brother?" (Y/N) was still only asking questions, her shock still too prevalent for her to get past thinking only the basics. "M...my brother got your sister pregnant?" The words sounded so foreign to say.

"Yes, yes he fucking did," he was still fuming. "And now I'm going to fucking kill him," he added before he grabbed his cap and began walking towards (Y/N), who was standing in the archway that led to the exit.

"Woah, woah...you're going to do what?" (Y/N)'s voice was assertive, but it wasn't enough to get Tommy to stop. What was though, was her placing her hand on his chest and putting pressure against him as he walked up to her. "You're not going anywhere in this state of mind, Thomas Shelby," she told him, her eyes locked onto his, her gaze steely and serious, "and you'd be foolish to think that I'd let you go and kill my brother just because you're unhappy with what he's done. Freddie's not the best of men, but he's..."

"Tell me what he is, (Y/N), because right now I can only see a man who needs to be dealt with," Tommy cut into her statement, tension still evident in his words. He was just a few moments shy from foaming at the mouth here. He needed to get to Freddie and he needed to deal with this now.

(Y/N)'s eyebrows raised as she heard what he had to say, and, once again, surprise was now etched across her face, "It's rich of you to say that about him when you're in the same situation as he is," she said to him.

Now it was Tommy's turn to be confused. "What?" he asked her, his anger fizzling out slightly as he furrowed his brows.

"Are you forgetting about you and I?" she queried, her mouth slightly agape as she waited for his answer. He didn't give one, so she continued, "are you forgetting that we've been seeing each other since you came back from France? Are you forgetting that Freddie knows not one thing about us? You'd be a hypocrite if you were to go and strike him down for being in a situation that is almost exactly identical to the one you're currently in."

(Y/N) held his gaze as she finished her monologue, watching him intently for what he'd give as an answer. He blinked a few times as he thought her words over. His mouth opened and shut then before he let out a sigh and dropped his gaze from hers, clearly defeated now. "It's not that simple when you see it that way, is it?" she remarked, her hand finally dropping from his chest because he'd stopped putting pressure against it.

"I'm still fucking angry at him," he muttered in a disgruntled tone.

"Sure you are...and you have a right to be. That's your sister; you're meant to protect her. But I think I have a little bit of insight into what Ada was thinking, and let me tell you...the move wasn't made only on Freddie's part," she continued to try to reason with him, the slightest smirk forming on her face as she finished her statement. Tommy looked up as she said her final words, and upon seeing the smirk, he shot her the 'don't you even start' look. She held her hands up in surrender as the smile overtook her features. "What are you going to do now?" she asked him after a few moments had passed.

"I'm going to go and find a way to deal with this situation," he responded as he placed his peaked cap atop his head before tugging it down into its proper spot.

"And I trust that that solution will ensure that everyone stays alive?" she checked with him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

Tommy pursed his lips at her statement, thinking it over for a moment before he cut the tension by nodding and exhaling a sigh. "It'll take longer for me to figure out, but I'll see it through so that is the case," he told her, his eyes locked onto hers.

"You've given me your word, so now you must stick to it," she reminded him.

"When have I ever broken my word to you?" he questioned her, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Let's not start with that, Tommy Shelby," she said to him, her smile present as he exhaled a breath of a laugh at her statement.

"I'll see you later," he deflected the previous topic as he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"I mean it," she stressed as they pulled away, trying to hold a serious look, but her smile was obviously breaking through.

"You have my word," he promised her again, kissing her lips one more time before she finally stepped aside and let him exit the backroom.

She turned to watch him walk out of the bakery, holding in her sigh until the door shut behind him. Men, she thought to herself as she shook her head, it's completely fine when they're in the midst of it, but if someone steps over the line they've already crossed, then there'll be hell to pay.

——

(Y/N)'s night had been pretty good so far. Nothing drastic came out of Tommy's blow up - besides the fact that Freddie declined his train ticket out of Birmingham and instead proposed to Ada. Of course, that struck a chord within Tommy, (Y/N) got an earful about it after he found out, but everyone was still alive. What she didn't know was that the caliber of her night was going to go down drastically the second she entered the small, dingy apartment that she shared with her brother.

Freddie was standing by the desk that was pushed up against the far wall of the apartment's main room. (Y/N) thought nothing of it, until he turned to face her with what looked to be a stack of papers in his hand. "Would you care to explain what these are to me?" he asked her as he shook the papers slightly for effect.

"What are they?" (Y/N) asked for some details. All she could see was that he was holding a stack of white paper.

"They're letters," he gave her more context.

"Ok...?" she asked for even more details. Everyone writes letters...why was he getting so worked up over these?

"They're letters from Tommy Shelby; from the war," he finally brought the hammer down, his words coming out in a cross manner.

(Y/N) sighed as she heard what her brother had to say. "I'm not allowed to write to someone who we've known since grade school?" she asked him, her eyebrows raising.

"Not in this manner you aren't," he rebuked, his voice raising slightly as his frustration became more pronounced.

"Well what was I to do? No one else was writing to me, Freddie. I tried you multiple times and got nothing! Tommy responded to me. He was my lifeline while you were all away," she raised her voice with his, showing him that she wasn't going to bow out of the argument.

"There's writing to him, and then there's forming a well-pronounced relationship with him, (Y/N). I'm never going to unread some of the things that were written here!" Freddie countered, waving the letters in front of her again.

"You shouldn't have been reading them in the first place!" (Y/N) exclaimed, her eyes wide as she managed to snatch them out of his hands. She did a quick check of them, breathing the slightest sigh of relief when she found that they were all accounted for. These letters meant a great deal to her. They were the only things that made her smile during the dark years of war, and now they served as a reminder of the beginning of the relationship that she now shared with Tommy. "Why were you going through my drawer anyway, Freddie?" she asked him then, a glare present on her face.

"Ada heard talk..." he started.

(Y/N) quickly cut him off. "Oh...Ada," she over-exaggerated the words, rolling her eyes as she heard her brother huff.

"She heard talk that Tommy'd only did what he did for us because of the situation he was in. It got me thinking, and it led me to these letters," he continued with his explanation, motioning to the letters she was holding then.

"That still doesn't give me good reason to understand why you decided to go searching through my drawer of the desk," (Y/N) pointed out. Sure, Tommy being in a 'situation' could have possibly got him thinking; she wasn't going to discredit her brother's brain, but how he pieced it together and figured out she had these letters stashed away just wasn't computing for her.

"That doesn't fucking matter, (Y/N). You've been going around behind my back with him even after you've known that we're at odds with each other. That's uncalled for and it's something I won't fucking have anymore!" he disregarded her statement, instead letting his frustration get the best of him and shine through in his words.

(Y/N) looked at him for a few moments, digesting what he'd just said to her. She tried to decide which way she should go about this situation; bring in reason? Or let him have it? She was so close to choosing the latter. "It's a bit rich of you to be saying this considering you're doing the exact same thing with Ada...well you were trying to, until Tommy found out you got her pregnant," she finally gave her response. If it were any other time, she'd laugh at the fact that she was saying the exact same statement to the other side of the equation just weeks apart. But she kept a straight face now.

There was the slightest change in Freddie's composure after he heard these words. But yet he pushed on. "That doesn't change the fact that he's crossed the fucking line. I ought to put a bullet in his head for even thinking of you in that way!" he let his anger prevail, his voice raised yet again.

"And what good will that do? I told him this when he was thinking the same thing, and I'll have no remorse in telling you the same: dealing with him in this manner will make you an outright hypocrite because you are doing the exact same thing with his sister. In a way, you'd be unjustifying your situation by dealing with mine in such a way."

Silence fell between the two siblings after (Y/N) finished her piece. Both were staring at each other, and tension was building around them to the point that it could be cut with a knife. Freddie made the first move, breaking his gaze as he began walking to the door. (Y/N)'s voice stopped him before he could open it. "You're not going to find him because he's gone for the weekend...figuring out some deal with some fucking Inspector because you don't want to take your stubborn ass out of the picture," she told him, knowing exactly what he was about to go and do.

Her words made Freddie freeze. He didn't say anything, but instead stared at her for a moment longer before finally opening the door and exiting the apartment. (Y/N) couldn't help but exhale a sigh once she was alone. Men, she thought as she shook her head. Now she'd have to figure out a way to make sure that both her brother and her lover would make it out of this situation alive. Thankfully Tommy was out of the city for the weekend, and that Freddie knew about the potential of him getting caught if he went anywhere close to that Inspector at the moment.

——

"How did I know that the two of you would come here the very first chance you had?" (Y/N) questioned the two men that were currently pointing their revolvers at each other. She confidently walked up to them, seeing only their eyes shift over in the direction she was coming from. Their stances stayed unwavering; it was going to take more than a simple statement.

Tommy spoke first. "What're you doing here, (Y/N)?" he asked her, his eyes still fixed on his target that was lying below him.

"I'm making sure that neither of you do something stupid," she answered him as she stopped a few paces away from where their stand-off was occurring.

"I won't let him fuck up my sister's life for his cause," Tommy said then, his finger toying with the trigger as he spoke. (Y/N) didn't know what to say. The both of them had their weapons fixed on each other, and the tension was almost palpable around them.

Thankfully (Y/N) didn't need to do any negotiating. After a few moments, Freddie dropped his gun to the ground. "My God..." he started, a sigh escaping with his words, "you actually believe that," his next sentence was spoken as a statement, as it was made pretty obvious by Tommy where his thoughts were at the moment, "I love her, Tommy. I loved her since she was nine and I was twelve. And she loves me the same," he said then, the slightest smile creeping onto his lips as he spoke.

Tommy still kept his revolver fixed on its target, his gaze unwavering as he heard what his ex-best friend had to say. (Y/N) watched with her breath held as Freddie then stood from the ground. Tommy didn't lower his arm until Freddie took two steps so that they'd be standing face to face with each other.

"Do you even know the word?" Freddie queried, his eyes locked onto Tommy's, "because I can say the same thing about you with (Y/N); using her for your fucking gain, like she's just some dispensable object," he added then, his words spoken with a harshness.

"Freddie..." (Y/N) cut into their stand off with a warning tone.

"No, (Y/N). He needs to fucking hear this," Freddie brushed his sister off, "he needs to fucking know that this can't be a two way street; that he can't damn me for what he thinks I'm doing and then go and do the exact same," he spoke these next lines to Tommy, as if he was trying to get him to see sense in it all.

"Then you must know that we are in love too," (Y/N) spoke up after a few more tense moments had passed. This made Freddie break his gaze from Tommy to look over at (Y/N). She could tell just by his eyes that he was shocked by the news. "You heard me right," (Y/N) doubled down, moving closer to the two of them before she continued, "we are in love; have been since 1917, when we were writing letters to each other. He professed it to me the moment he found me at the apartment and I said it back all the same. You weren't there when it happened, Freddie, because you'd gone to meet Ada under that bridge you always find yourselves under," (Y/N) spelled it out for her brother, watching as his jaw went slightly slack. (Y/N) fought the smirk that was trying to form on her face. She loved having the upper hand. "That's right, I know about that. Us women, we talk, and Ada told me everything. I'm happy for the two of you, I see your relationship for what it is. I only hope that you both can stop patronizing each other and let it lie," she ended her statement by looking between the both of them.

The two men looked at each other again, the tension arising between them again. Freddie was the one to break the silence. "I don't know where you stand, but I will accept you and (Y/N) being together," he said, being the bigger person and the one to bury the hatchet first. (Y/N) wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but she knew she couldn't yet. Not with the way that Tommy was still staring her brother down. She silently hoped that he'd choose peace as well.

"I will accept you and Ada being together, but if you do anything to hurt her, it will be the end of you," Tommy finally conceded, but not before throwing one last threat into the mix.

Nothing else was said then as the two men continued to stare at each other. (Y/N) knew what this was. Neither wanted to make the first move. So she stepped into their staring contest. "Freddie, why don't you go find Ada. She was telling me earlier about some pain that she was having. She may need you," (Y/N) tried to reason with her brother, pushing on his chest slightly so that he would get the cue that she wanted him to back away from the situation. This did the trick in getting Freddie's gaze off of Tommy, and (Y/N) watched it soften as his eyes found hers. He said nothing, and only nodded before he stepped away and began to leave the old warehouse building.

(Y/N) turned to Tommy once the other man was out of sight. "I'm sure you would have killed one another had I not shown up," she broke their silence, her hand fiddling with the lapel of his jacket as she focused her eyes on his chest.

"He's not worth it," Tommy responded, shaking his head slightly.

"Sure seemed like he was when I got here," (Y/N) replied, her eyes rising to meet his. She was able to see the starting of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"He's not worth it, but you are," he flipped his words around, the second half of his statement succeeding in making (Y/N)'s cheeks heat up.

"You're a sap, Tommy Shelby," she teased him, smacking his chest gently, her words making his smirk appear full on his lips. She smiled back at him as she took hold of his lapels and pulled him closer to her so that she could press her lips to his. "You're a sap, and I love you," she whispered against his lips, feeling him smile against hers at her words. Tommy said nothing in response, but instead pulled her in for another kiss; a kiss that perfectly conveyed how he felt towards her.

Tagged: @mgcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @lovemissyhoneybee @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @raincoffeeandfandoms @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @lora21 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @dragons-are-my-favorite @sunsetbeachesandwriting @forgottenpeakywriter @cilliansangel

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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thatsthewrongwallcraig · 8 months

Text

Wait And Bleed

Summary: You clearly are Kappa's favorite, little sheep out of his herd but the questionable prestige comes with equally questionable privileges…

Pairing: Kappa x fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Content Warnings: Straight Up Filth 18+!, Substance Abuse (Cocaine), Heavy Consensual Cutting (Mutilation If You Will), Blood Kink, Unprotected P In V, Kappa Being A Menace, Praise Kink

A/N: This fic is based on an ask by @bitchofanewera . Massive thanks go out to @svgarcaine for answering my questions and giving plenty of support. Thank you! 🖤🫶🏻

Tagging the horny horde:

@crypticsewerslut @quicksilversg1rl @cc-luvr @icarus-star @milaeth @roryculkinsgf @spookyorchid @arch1viste @whoareyoi @angelsanarchy @blueberrypancakesworld @rocketqueen-world @r0ttenmess @doddernix @svgarcaine @amayalul @basementgrl222

My eyes are red and gold, the hair is standing straight up

This is not the way I pictured me

I can't control my shakes!

How the hell did I get here?

Something about this, so very wrong

I have to laugh out loud, I wish I didn't like this

Is it a dream or a memory?

- Wait And Bleed By Slipknot

The already pained expression on your face contorted into a grimace, somewhere in between a cry of pain and a wickedly twisted laugh, bordering on the maniacal as you felt the cold, sharp jolt of hurt ripping through the skin of your thigh again. You watched, studied Kappa's face as his erratic, twitchy eyes followed the sharp razor blade cut through, drawing blood immediately.

"Fuck…" He exhaled deeply, subconsciously biting down on his lower lip as he noted how deep red droplets pooled around the incision.

"It hurts…" You felt your body squirming in his touch, stating the rather obvious.

"I know, sugar, I know, but you're being so good for me. I'll make the pain go away, just you wait, yeah?"

You whined out in discomfort as Kappa placed the blade a little lower, closer to the inside of your thigh this time, the sharp edge drilling into the first layers of your sensitive skin already.

"Ouw…" It shot from your quivering lips, head falling back whilst hot tears trickled from your lower lash line.

The wave of wetness covered your cheeks as Kappa adorned your flesh with yet another languid cut, one of many. Tonight barely any spot on your body had been safe from his kink, fetish or just downright godforsaken need to see you bleed for him. The plenty of cuts and incisions were scattered all over, starting at your collarbones and now ending with the newest addition to the collection on the inside of your thigh. You didn’t even dare to look down because you knew that most of your front would be covered in random, sloppy smears of red.

You'd allowed it to happen, agreed to it for reasons you tried to gaslight your rational thinking away from. To the few crumbles of sane reason inside of you, this posed as plain insanity and you just couldn't bear to admit to yourself that Kappa's madness filled a very certain emptiness in your soul, a pitch black hole you refused to acknowledge.

"Look at you, sugar.", With a quick flick of his hand Kappa finally tossed the bloodied blade aside, "So good and so incredibly vulnerable just for me. Such a precious girl."

His bizarre words of praise shot a rush of heat right amidst your legs, pulling a telltale gush of wetness from your throbbing cunt. In that very moment you couldn't help yourself but to feel ashamed. The unbridled embarrassment flushed your cheeks with red at the involuntary reaction of your body.

"Oh, no… don't you cry over that, huh?", Kappa tried to soothe you, his tone awkwardly soft in face of the situation, "Gon' make sure you feel better soon, yeah?"

"Please…" You muttered, begged unto him, your whole body glowing in the heat of sheere pain and perverted arousal.

"There, there…I got you." Without hesitation, Kappa pulled a slender glass vial from the pocket of his worn-out linen pants, unscrewing its top before spreading a small pile of white dust onto the back of his hand.

"Take a bump, hun." He raised his hand right underneath your nose for you to angle your head down just a little.

You knew the process, weren't exactly unfamiliar to it and right now you simply craved to be elevated from your physical suffering. With that, you tiled your chin towards your tits, hovering your nostril right over the back of his hand before taking a deep sniff, feeling the chemical sticking to your nasal membrane before it went straight into your bloodstream.

Within minutes that suddenly felt like mere seconds, your pulse elevated, a comfortably buzzing feeling washing through your every molecule, leaving no trace of the excruciating levels of pain that ruled your body.

"Better?" Kappa smiled at you.

"Uh-Huh.." You couldn't help a wide, uncontrolled grin to spread across your face as you allowed your head to thud down onto the mattress.

"Attagirl.", You heard him humm, "Let me catch up to you, eh?"

Your senses were reeling, pain turning into a warm wash all throughout your body and your physical arousal aching painfully between your legs.

"Ay, that's my favorite girl..", Kappa quipped while you hardly took notice of him spreading a line of coke between your tits, the string of white sitting on your brutalized skin before he put his face to it, devouring it all in one swift inhale.

"Here wo go!" He groaned out in vigor, his nose crinkling a little before he swallowed the back-drip, and pushed the waistband of his pants down, allowing his hard on to slap beneath his navel in a wet thud.

"Gonna make you feel so good, sugar..", Kappa sighed, looking down at you as he fisted his cock to align himself with your entrance, "Been such a good girl for me…"

You didn't question any of his breathy words as you felt the eager tip of his cock prodding against your hot and already clenching cunt. Way before he even pushed in, your body was set ablaze in a wicked state of drug-induced bliss. Kappa eventually drilling deep inside of you was nearly enough to send your thoroughly tortured muscles into overdrive. You heard your sore voice calling out to him in a foggy distance, repeating his name over and over like some sort of holy chant.

" 'M, here, hun.", Kappa moaned against the shell of your ear, his voice guiding your disheveled thoughts, "Taking me so good."

"Hmhmm…" Your lips pursed in a remote, dull pang of hurt.

Right until the tip of his tongue was deep inside one of the many cuts along your cleavage, you didn't notice how his mouth had wandered down rather quickly.

"Issok…", Kappa cooed, "Let me have this…just a bit…"

To distract you from the sizzling pain his saliva caused, Kappa hammered his hips against you, thrusting into you until you moaned out again.

"Fuck, so thight around me already…" He mumbled into your chest whilst fucking into you at a borderline violent pace.

If it wasn't for the heavy amount of chemicals in your bloodstream right now, you'd have been worried about feeling sore by tomorrow.

"Gosh, you're so sensitive." It was way more of a praise than a taunt that oozed out Kappa's mouth as he felt you throbbing around his cock, your cunt clutching down all over his hard one before your every nerve started to spasm and convulse.

Orgasmic contractions washed through your numbed body, trying their best to work their way up to your brain.

"Feels better now, no?" Kappa moaned, obliviously fucking you through a distorted orgasm, "Better bet Imma do that all night, hun."

#rory culkin #kappa x reader #kappa smut #kappa #kappa black mirror #kappa x fem!reader #black mirror 6 #black mirror #black mirror beyond the sea #kappa x you

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catt-leya · 2 years

Note

Hey lovely!

Could I request a fic that happens when they get attacked by the Claimers and Rick bites the neck of the leader of.

I’m curious about how you will portray readers reaction! Like shocked or scared ( or turned on, I mean nobody can deny that he’s hot full of blood)

Take your time babe!

Thannks💖

Surrender (18+) || Rick Grimes

Thank you so much for motivating me to write this because I think it's one of my favorite fics I've EVER written💗

For me personally, it's a little highlight and I'm proud of how it turned out 💗

It's a good dose of pain, fluff and angst with my well known smut 👀

Have fun sweeties 💗💗💗

Trigger: Mention of rape and my smutty stuff

For the hundredth time, I brush my long hair out of my face and curse the hair band that gave up this morning.

My fidgeting draws the attention of my fiancé to me.

He walks a few steps ahead of me through the woods with Michonne in an attempt to lead us to a place called 'Terminus' and now looks back over his shoulder at me, "Come here, babe."

Michonne and he stop and I walk up to him grumbling, "What is it?"

This whole situation annoys me beyond belief. Just a little while ago we could call a prison home and now that it's all been razed to the ground, all of our friends are either dead or scattered elsewhere and we're traipsing around after some tracks for hours AND I want to shave my head bald right now.

As soon as I'm near him, he grabs my arm and pulls me to him.

Annoyed, I roll my eyes, "Rick, unless you have a razor blade and you're going to cut my hair off, let's just keep walking."

Normally I love it, when he touches me, but right now I don't feel like doing anything at all and just want a roof over my head.

Instead of letting go of me, he turns my back to him, "I think I have a better idea."

Frowning, I look at Michonne, who looks at us like we're the cutest thing in the whole world. I've long gotten used to being looked at like that by our friends and I'm proud of it.

I met Rick at the very beginning when we were still stuck in Atlanta and over time we've gotten closer and closer. At first it was just about sex, but that night at the C.D.C. when Rick was drunk and sleeping with me, the first 'I love you' slipped from his lips and when we both realized how we felt about each other, it didn't stop at that one 'I love you'.

We became a committed couple and to be honest I didn't expect more because I already had everything I could want. But one night when I was on a shift at the guard tower with Rick, he pulled a ring out of his pocket and asked me if I wanted to be his wife.

We both realized that in this world, wearing a ring doesn't mean much anymore, but Rick admitted that he liked the thought of me wearing a ring and others seeing that I was taken. That I belong to him.

How could I have said 'no' to that?

I love him so much I didn't have to think any further and now here I am, impatiently twirling the ring on my finger, "And what would that glorious idea be? I know you love my long hair. I do too, but it's annoying."

Gently, he takes my hair back down my back and says softly, "Wait a minute."

I still look at Michonne questioningly because she's the only one who sees what he's up to, but I can't read anything in her face.

So I sigh softly and wince when I hear something snap, "What are you doing?"

Rick doesn't answer me and instead takes my hair and ties it up with something so it finally stops falling in my face.

I hold still until he says, "Done," his voice dripping with pride.

Surprised, I turn to him and reach behind me at the same time to find out what he used to tie my hair up.

My gaze slides over his body and lingers on the hem of his shirt, which now doesn't look intact.

I reach for it and shake my head in disbelief, "This was your plan?"

He shrugs, "I don't want you to be unhappy and it's just a shirt. I'm sure we'll find some new clothes soon."

In thanks, I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him softly on the lips, "Thank you."

I move my face a little away from him to release my lips from his, but he leans down and follows me to intensify the kiss.

Giggling, I slide my hand between us and press a finger to his mouth to stop him from sliding his tongue between my lips, "We have an audience."

Behind me, I hear Michonne murmur, "At least one who has consideration for me."

Moaning softly, Rick closes his bright eyes and murmurs, so softly that only I can hear, "I'm underfucked, babe. I'm starting to lose it, and your tight jeans aren't really helping."

In fact, it also feels like it's been forever since we last had sex, but so far there just hasn't been an opportunity to change that and I whisper back softly, "Sorry, but I quite like the jeans."

He gives a pained laugh and then says to Michonne as well, "We should get on the road. Maybe we can find a car there."

With the makeshift hair band, I'm in a much better mood and reach for Rick's hand.

It's so natural that he automatically slips his fingers through mine and we make our way hand in hand to the street.

In fact, we don't even have to walk far, and a car appears in the middle of the road.

Unfortunately it doesn't look like it will start, but with the car we would at least have some kind of roof over our heads now that the sun is setting and the trees around us are casting longer shadows.

We build a makeshift camp with a small campfire, which is slowly but steadily burning down and I crawl inside the car.

The old car seats are the most comfortable surface I've been allowed to place my butt on in a long time and I look at Rick and Michonne with half-closed eyes.

The last glow caresses his face immensely and my heart warms all over at the thought that I was so lucky that he chose me.

That in this world where everything is terrible, I was given the luck to meet the love of my life.

Who knows if we would have even met before if everything had gone differently.

Maybe I would still be trapped in my job that I hated and dating the same idiotic men who never respected me, let alone loved me as genuinely as Rick does.

Smiling, I look down at the ring on my finger and daydream when I hear a strange voice.

Alarmed, I look up and my heart slips into my pants.

A guy I've never seen before is holding a gun to my fiancé's head and Michonne is also being targeted by another.

I briefly think about sliding under the seat to figure out a way to get them out of there, but before I can finish the thought, the car door is yanked open and a guy grabs me.

I try to get away from him, but the guy lifts me out of the car, unfazed, and I hear Rick hiss, "Let her go."

The guy's paws dig into my hip and I try to kick at him.

He loses his balance and with me in his arms, he goes down.

As soon as we hit the ground, I try to get away from him, oblivious to the pain.

But he spins me around to face him and pushes me to the ground with all his weight.

Afraid of missing something and making the situation worse, I don't dare look in Rick's direction and I don't dare taking my eyes off the guy above me, which is why I only hear Rick's menacing voice: "It was me. It was me alone. They had nothing to do with it."

I have no idea what Rick is actually talking about, but I'm also way too busy trying to stop the asshole from pushing my legs apart and growling, "Let go of me."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Daryl appear out of nowhere and I don't care where he came from so suddenly, I just want him to talk these guys into letting us go.

I snap along something about "take mine", that's when the asshole leans over me and whispers with hellish breath, "I bet you'll be a really good fuck."

Pure adrenaline pumps through my veins and I try to push him away.

All I can think of is, please don't.

But he just grabs my arms and presses them against the floor above my head.

I barely register two men going at Daryl and realize how hopeless my situation is.

Every now and then Rick would also hold my hands above my head during sex and not even with all his strength.

Still, I could never budge and was forced to stay put.

The guy above me probably weighs twice as much as Rick and there I see no chance of getting away from him.

Again I hear Rick, "Let her go."

Tears unintentionally come to my eyes and I let go.

The more I struggle, the worse it gets and I immediately hear the guy unzip his pants, "You might even like it."

I think about Rick getting shot and me getting raped and then dying too.

The guy moves his hand a little and comes up against the ring, which draws his attention to it and he calls out to the man holding the gun against Rick's head, "The little bitch is wearing an engagement ring."

The asshole with Rick laughs, "Is that your little girl? This just gets better and better. First we kill Daryl, then we kill the bitch next to you, then we share your whore. Only then I'll shoot you. But don't worry, maybe we'll keep the chick. She's hot."

Tears run down my cheeks and I look that first to Rick.

His gaze is firmly fixed on me and I make up my mind that I will not break eye contact, no matter what should happen.

I feel the hard cock of the asshole above me against my thigh and silently form with my lips, "I love you."

Something in Rick's gaze changes and before I can even blink, he throws his head back and hits the guy behind him in the gut.

The shot that goes off passes and suddenly everything happens so fast.

Rick is on his feet, then gets knocked down and then somehow gets back to his feet.

Everyone stares at the two men and the brief hope I had is washed away as the asshole grabs Rick and won't let him go.

I wonder if I'm going to lose my fiancé now and the guy is going to rape me in the pool of Rick's blood.

Suddenly something happens that I didn't see coming.

Something no one saw coming.

Rick bites the guy's throat and rips it out with his teeth.

The guy above me freezes and I'm too perplexed to free myself.

Michonne and Daryl, however, use the moment to kill the others and I stare down at my fiancé, who spits out his throat and turns in my direction, covered in blood.

I can't take my eyes off him as he takes the hunting knife from his victim and fixes the guy above me, "He's mine."

That's the moment the guy wakes up from his stupor and stands up frantically. He takes a step backward, and Rick is already on him, stabbing.

Not just once, no, he stabs again and again, gutting my potential rapist.

Rick lets him fall to the ground and turns directly to me.

I can claim never to have been afraid of him, but the moment his eyes meet mine and I see that insane look, I flinch and it's a reflex as I begin to crawl backwards away from him.

The threatening rape and what I saw, make me back away from him more and more and only then he blinks several times.

Surprised, he drops the knife carelessly and his voice is harsher than it's ever been before, "Babe?"

He takes a step toward me and I slide back even further.

You could call it self-preservation instinct that I'm backing away from a much larger bloodied man who just a few seconds ago looked like he would just kill everything and everyone.

Slowly he drops to his knees and when he is no longer towering over me, my brain slowly picks up on what he is saying softly, "You know I would never hurt you right?"

I stare at his beard, normally streaked with gray and now glowing the deepest red.

No words escape my lips and he reaches out his bloody hand to me, "Babe, please. I would never hurt you. I love you."

Slowly his words get through to me and I push forward a little to reach for his with a shaky hand.

The relief in his eyes is impossible to miss as I let him pull me to my feet and he tries to speak to me as calmly as possible, "You're scared of me."

It's not a question, but a simple statement.

As soon as he realizes I'm standing securely, he immediately lets go of me and again says incredibly gently, "Please don't be afraid of me."

Now that I'm standing, I finally get my breath back and I can think reasonably clearly again.

I see the worry in his gaze and how tense his body is because he has to restrain himself from touching me and giving me the space I need.

I know he would never hurt me and I know he saved me and the others.

It's just the way he did it that I've never seen him do before, and in fact, I didn't think he was capable of such savage violence.

Slowly but steadily, my heart calms and I quietly clear my throat, "I know."

Rick looks like I've lifted a weight of a thousand tons off his shoulders and asks, "Can I give you a hug? I…I just want to hold you."

I don't even care that I'm soaking myself with blood as I fall into his arms, and that's when all the dams break on me and I shuffle against his chest.

My whole body shakes and Rick strokes my back reassuringly, "It's all right. I won't let anything happen to you."

I dig my fingers into his shirt and push myself even closer to him. Shorting, I breathe, "I thought he was going to shoot you. Oh my god. I thought we were all going to die."

Again and again he strokes my head and I hear him talking to Daryl and Michonne.

A short time later, turning to me, he murmurs, "Daryl and Michonne are moving the bodies and looking for something edible. Let me take you to the car."

Gently, he lifts my head and brushes the tears from my cheeks with his thumb, "It's all right."

Slowly I nod and let him lead me to the back seat of the car.

Rick opens the door for me and I quietly slide into the seat. As I look at him, I still can't believe we're all alive and that he really bit that guy's throat out.

It's starting to hit just how much the world can change you and what one person in need can be capable of.

What Rick did for me and the others is incredible and in a very morbid way it turned me on a little bit too.

Seeing him blow his last fuse is extremely scary and irritatingly, extremely hot.

It may be that it's the panic slowly subsiding and giving way to other feelings, but as he takes a step back, I reach for his hand, "Come here."

Because he would do anything for me, he approaches me again and I try to pull him to the back seat and thus to me, but he stops and says, "I need to wash up and you're still in shock, babe" in a soft voice.

Despite his words, I pull him towards me in a more determined way and he loses his balance at least enough to have to brace himself to the left and right of my legs to keep his face from landing on my stomach.

I grab his face with both hands and whisper, "I don't care and I'm fine. I need you now, Rick."

He takes a faltering breath, "I…Babe…You can't really want this right now. Not after that asshole almost…I mean and after what I did…I could understand if I disgusted you and you didn't want to let me touch you anymore."

I stroke his still damp beard, "I want you to touch me though, Rick."

The uncertainty in his eyes almost hurts me and when he says, "I saw how scared you were of me" my heart breaks.

Without thinking, I open my lips to explain, but he shakes his head, "I'm so sorry I scared you and I'm not sure how I'm going to make it up to you by burying you under me in this little car and you'll probably barely be able to move."

I release my hands from his face and reach for the button of my jeans instead and have to smile when he fixes his gaze on it and mumbles hoarsely, "Babe, please. I don't want you to feel constricted."

I lift my hips and pull my pants over my butt, "You won't hurt me or make me do anything. I'm not afraid of not being able to move under you either. I trust you and now I'm asking you to trust me too when I say I love you and want to feel you on top of me."

Unsure, he looks up at me and I reach for his chin, "Please, Rick."

For a brief moment I think he's going to get up, but he does carefully push himself over me.

He was also right that the car is pretty small and once he's completely over me, he can just barely brace himself without hitting the back of his head against the ceiling and his hip stays heavily on top of me.

Skeptically he looks me in the eye and I give in to the impulse I have and brush the curls that frame his face out of his face.

He closes his eyes and murmurs, "Is that okay?"

Gently, I move my hip against his and breathe, "More than okay."

When he looks at me again, his eyes light up and he reaches for my hand to breathe a kiss on my ring, "I love you. I love you so much. When I saw that asshole touch you and you looked at me, I lost it. I stopped thinking and wanted you to be safe."

I release my hand from his and reach for his face again to pull it to me and before I kiss him I whisper, "I know."

Just the first touch of our lips makes Rick groan and he can't hold himself up properly.

With a soft gasp, he lowers his torso further down on me and murmurs against my lips, "If it gets too much for you, I'll stop. I promise"

I know that too and put my head to the side so that he has access to my neck.

His lips glide over my heated skin and with every second I forget what got us into this situation in the first place.

I forget what Rick did and I forget what was almost done to me.

All I can think about are Rick's lips at the base of my breasts and his cock pressing hard against me.

He tries to balance on one arm to get my panties off, but the back seat is too narrow and he loses his balance, causing him to slip away and lie on top of me with his full weight.

Instead of panicking, though, I have to laugh and when Rick sees this, life returns to his eyes, "Sorry, babe."

Chuckling, I push him up by the shoulders, "Let me do it."

While I more or less blindly try to undress us enough for Rick to fuck me, he spreads little kisses all over my skin.

From my nose to my jaw, down to my neck, causing a strange mixture of amusement and arousal in me.

Awkwardly, I slide his pants, including boxers, over his butt and somehow try to arrange my legs so he can push himself inside me.

When his cock presses against my pussy, I moan softly and Rick smothers the sound with a kiss.

This time I don't stop him either as he presses his tongue between my lips and sinks into me at the same time.

Feeling him inside me after all this time is all I need to gasp his name and jerk myself tighter around him.

I'm trying to loosen my muscles and get used to his thickness when Rick hisses, "Holy shit. I can't take this for long."

I manage a quiet, "Sorry" and relax more with each passing second as he just waits motionless inside me.

I adjust myself as best I can under him and feel him twitch inside me before I kiss him gently and whisper, "Okay."

His blue eyes dance over my face as he pulls back and then sinks back into me.

Lovingly, I reach into his hair and pull him down to me so that my lips touch his ear, "You don't have to hold back."

I feel him tremble and press his hips harder against mine so I can feel everything of him.

Every little movement and twitch.

Instead of looking at me again, he buries his face against my neck, and there's something so intimate about the gesture that my abdomen starts to glow.

I feel his heavy breathing and how he is trying to give me what I need and not come himself already before me.

It's unusual to see him struggling for self-control like this, and the fact that he has to struggle like this himself turns me on beyond belief.

I bury my fingers in his curls and moan softly, "Harder. Please."

Just like always, he does what I ask and I hear him gasp muffled, "You are my world. I can't live without you."

I can't believe, his words make me rebel, causing my clit to bump against him and without warning the knot in my abdomen loosens and my pussy pulses around his cock.

He can't stand that either and I hear him almost whimper "Oh God" and he comes jerking inside me and lifts his face to kiss me messily.

When he takes a quick breath, I seize the moment and press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose, making him laugh softly, "I really should get out of this small car."

I playfully nudge him in the side, "I have to admit, this is starting to make me feel like a truck is parked on top of me."

Shaking his head he tries to get out of the car, "Well thank you very much."

He looks at me and the problem with that is he can't see when the car roof stops and he straightens up way too soon.

Before I can warn him his head is already banging against the roof and he hisses, "Shit car" while rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

Sighing, he gets dressed again and I also peel myself back into my clothes, which isn't much easier than undressing in the back seat.

Decently dressed, Rick reaches out his hand and helps me back out of the car, "You okay?"

Smiling, I shake my head, "Stop it already. I'm fine," and take his hands in mine.

The way the blue in his eyes grows warm never gets old and I know I will love him forever no matter what he does.

@hail-yourselves @bean-is-reading @chanlvr2 @criminalwalkingsupernatural @sunshinevirus @toxic-ink @kingtwhiddleston

#rick grimes #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fluff #rick grimes imagine #twd #twd x reader #the walking dead #request

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someplace-darker · 2 years

Text

Kinktober Day 3: Glove Kink | Din Djarin

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader (no y/n)

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+, PWP, public sex, fingering, glove kink, is finger sucking a warning? it is now, reader is afab but no pronouns are used

Summary: Maybe you should be a little bit more subtle about how much you want Din.

A/N: hi this is the late day 3! I thought i was gonna do 3 and 4 tonight but stuff came up so 4 and 5 should be out tomorrow! Also i think this is the first Din thing i've ever written.

Din knows that your eyes linger on him when he works, whether it’s catching bounties or cleaning his blasters, your gaze tracks him with blatant yearning. He was glad that even if his helmet restricted many things in life, at least his emotions were concealed beneath the impenetrable beskar and cold vocoder. It’s not any different this time. You’re sitting in the back of some outer-rim cantina sitting across from Din as he surveys the room, eyes glued to the way the yellow lights reflect and bounce on every surface of his armor.

Of course Din doesn’t tell you that he can see you, that his head may be turned but he’s noting each clench of your thighs, each pass of your tongue over your lips. It’s amusing to say the least, he finds it almost pathetic how you can’t seem to keep ahold of yourself in his presence. Although you’ve run out of things around you to look at and busy yourself with. You’re skilled in combat and handy with a weapon when needed, but Din does the rest, such as waiting in shadows and silence for the right moment to pounce on a target.

Which is exactly why you’re in the rundown cantina in the first place. A tip had come in from a reliable source that the man whose puck you currently carried in your pocket frequented this place in particular. Obviously not that reliable, seeing as the two of you have been sitting here for hours without a sign of him. The light from the dual suns is dwindling, the orange glow from outside the windows turning to purples and blues. The room is starting to empty itself, everyone collectively deciding to turn in for the night and laying down their credits for the bartender before seeing themselves out.

Except for you and the Mandalorian.

“Are we leaving yet?” you question, acutely aware of how you sound like a petulant child. In reality, you’re just massively turned on and need the (semi)privacy of the razor crest.

“No. This place doesn’t close for another hour, he could still show up,” Din replies, voice hoarse and dipped in molten heat. The same heat that occupies your body as you listen to him speak. You’re not exactly sure when it became this bad, turned into biting your hand as you fucked yourself in his bunk, watching a little closer at how his back twitches under your touch while you stitch a blade wound.

Focusing on how his hands toss assailants around like it’s nothing.

“Okay, can I at least head back to the ship? We’ll meet there,” you try to negotiate as he tilts his head in your direction, something like a sigh leaving him. His fingers tap on the table between you, gloves flexing around his hand as it moves.

He doesn’t answer immediately this time, his fingers stopping the rhythmic movement to instead clench into a fist, your stare still locked on his hands. Hands that you’ve thought about so many times before. Din clearing his throat snaps you out of your trance, looking up to see him leaning back against the booth, legs spread wide.

“Tell me mesh’la,” you’re not exactly sure how, but his voice is lower now “how often do you think about my fingers wrapping around your throat?”

Shock riddles your brain following his bluntly delivered question, the rest of your body shivering at his tone and how it drips with hunger. You glance out of the darkened corner booth you're seated in, the only people remaining are the bartender and passed out straggler on the other side. Slowly, you turn back to him. His visor reveals nothing and you wonder for a second if you imagined him saying it. Still, you lick your lips and murmur a soft “what?”

Din regards you as you squirm in your seat, turning to jerk his head to the left and pat the spot next to him. It feels as if you’re moving through the thickest water in the galaxy when you start to shift and push yourself around to his side, not looking away from him even when your knee bumps into his as you settle. The cool leather of his glove brushes against your cheek, curving down to cradle the line of your jaw. “I want you to tell me how much you think about me when you’re two fingers deep into your own cunt,” he speaks again, this time slower.

He watches the realization dawn over your pretty face, gloved thumb pressing gently against the plush cushions of your lips. “You can hear me?” you whisper, clenching your thighs once more, except this time he’s close enough to feel it. “Usually you think I’m sleeping,” he confirms, watching your spit coat the tip of his thumb when your mouth parts just the slightest.

How long has he known?

Lifting his arm, Din moves it to rest on the back of the booth, turning his body to keep his other hand on your face. Your tongue darts out to brush against the tip of his glove, moaning quietly when he allows you to lower your head and suck on the digit. “Do you want me to make you feel good, honey?” Din sounds like he’s teetering on the edge of restraint, voice more strained than before.

You shouldn’t, you know there’s still people in the building, but all your brain can focus on is the ragged rise and fall of the mandalorian’s chest.

And fuck, you really are tired of not knowing what it’s like.

Pulling your head back and off his finger, you nod frantically “yes, Din, please.” Almost instantly he’s pushing his index and middle fingers past your lips once more, grunting when you circle them with your tongue. Once they’re covered in your spit he pulls them out with a soft pop, dragging them down your cloth covered torso before pushing past the waistband of your trousers and curling them into you. The back of your head blooms with a sharp pain when you throw it back against his beskar covered arm, pleasure quickly covering the pain when he pumps them once, then twice.

Fuck, he didn’t even bother taking the gloves off, yet somehow it makes it better. The mere acknowledgment that he’s finger fucking you with his gloves still on is enough to make your cunt flutter around him. “Come on, I know you’re close. You practically rode the booth for the last few hours,” his voice is strained, a lilting tease playing at the tip of his tongue and it makes you laugh breathily. The laugh quickly morphs into a whine, brows furrowing as you turn your face against his arm, condensation forming on the cold metal.

He curls his fingers inside you repeatedly, adjusting his wrist so his thumb can find your clit and press circles into it. “Feels so good, wanted you for so long, fuck Din,” he hushes you gently, still aware of your location and missing bartender. Hips pressing down into his hand you start a rhythm, rocking into his hand like you’ve been hit with the strongest aphrodisiac in the galaxy.

Din’s silent now, entirely honed in on you now, watching as your back arches and you come with a shuddering cry. He presses the head of his helmet to your temple, slowing the movement of his fingers until you stop shaking. “Good, cyare,” he pulls his hand from your bottoms and taps your cheek, cock throbbing in his pants when your jaw relaxes and allows his fingers in. You pull back and grin, eyes hooded and pupils blown.

“That was much better than anything I thought of,” you say, voice wavering.

Din is about to answer but stops when the hiss of a door sounds out. “What’s wrong?” you whisper, head clearing enough to reach down for your blaster.

“I think we have company.”

#kinktober #my writing #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x y/n #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin #star wars fic

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pineappleciders · 2 years

Note

//tw

heloo,, saw u take south park reqs too-- wondering if u can do kyle broflovski and kenny mccormick (separate) x reader where they walk in on reader s3lf h4rm1ng? hcs or a oneshot is cool, i dont mind whatever ! kinda dealing w a bit rn and they r my comforts , thank you :) no rush, and dont feel like u have to do this one if ur uncomfortable w it !!

TRIGGER WARNING: self-harm, blood, blades

KYLE & KENNY WALKING IN ON G/N READER SELF-HARMING (platonic)

A/N: of course!! i hope everything turns out well for you, and remember my DMs are open if you need someone to talk to! also i couldn't really decide if i wanted to do hcs or a oneshot so i kinda did a oneshot in the format of headcanons? i apologize if it isn't what you wanted!

KYLE

you rushed to the restroom. something or someone in particular had triggered something in you, and you desperately needed to let everything out.

slamming the door, you fumble through your backpack. taking out a gilette blade, you press against the bathroom stall and slide down.

one cut, two cuts, three cuts, four. blood splats onto the dirty floor and you feel lightheaded.

you hadn't even noticed that you were crying.

not seeing nor hearing the footsteps approaching, you continue, and your sobs grow louder.

the stall door is gently pushed open, and you panic, accidentally jumping and throwing the razor across the floor.

you hesitate to look up, but once you do, you see kyle peeking in, and his eyes drag down, and land on your bleeding arm.

kyle swings the door open with a shocked face. "Y/N! there you are! dude, you're bleeding! what happened?"

you stare at him for a moment, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. but, as his eyes dart around, he seems to connect the dots.

his face instantly scrunches, and his brows furrow. he slowly kneels down, and gets closer to you.

"dude, did you.. do this to yourself?"

at that moment, you had no choice. you sniffle and wipe your tears, looking away from kyle.

he hesitates, and quite frankly, he isn't sure what to do. should he patch you up? reassure you? leave you alone?

you shake and look at your knees.

he hesitantly moves his arm around your shoulders, gently squeezing you. he takes off his backpack and digs around, pulling out a first-aid kit.

he cleans your wounds, wiping them and bandaging them. kyle always comes prepared for injury.

once you're cleaned up, he awkwardly looks you in the eyes.

"listen.. i'm not real good with this stuff, but i want you to know you're one of my best friends. you can always talk to me, okay?"

you nod and he pulls you into a hug, and rubs your back.

after that, he'll pay more attention to your mental state, and will follow you if you ever run off.

he really doesn't like seeing you hurt (mentally and physically), nor the sight of blood, so he'll check up on you frequently and think about things he says. he never wants to be the cause of your relapse.

KENNY

you hyperventilate in your room. you are intensely focused on the blade in your hand. did you really wanna do this again?

fuck it, you thought. it doesn't matter anymore.

you press the blade to your leg and swipe, subconsciously counting in your head. you were too far gone to calm yourself anymore. why did things have to be this way?

all of a sudden, you were snapped out of your haze when you hear your bedroom door open.

there stood your friend kenny, but it was kind of hard to tell his expression, as per usual.

he immediately looks at your bleeding thigh, and drops everything he was holding. he rushed to you, and his hands stood idly in the air. his mind raced, but he didn't know what to do.

"mmph mmg mmh mmmmp?" (what are you doing?)

you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. you feel tears prick your eyes.

kenny gently takes the razor from you and puts it in his pocket, making a mental note to throw it away later.

he sat on the bed and pulled you into a hug, and through your tears you could tell he was saying something, but it was hard to hear.

your mouth moved on it's own, and started spewing about everything that's been stressing you out. you apologize, you beg, you sob, all into his shoulder. and kenny quietly listens.

once your cries turned into sniffles, he let you go and held your hands in his.

"mm mmph m mmmph mmf mmmph mm. mmmph, mmm mm mph mmp mm phmm mm mmph mmh, mm?" (i'm sorry i didn't realize sooner. talk to me when you feel like this again, okay?)

you nod and hug him again, and he continues, saying that everything will be okay, and that there are better ways to deal with things than this.

you agree, and the two of you stay hugging for a bit, and once all is settled the two of you hang out and play video games.

kenny feels responsible for this. he's always felt the need to protect you, so how did he fail at saving you from your biggest threat? yourself.

he'll make sure to hang out with you more, and pay attention to you when you and the rest of the gang are hanging out.

he even rummaged through your room to find any razors, pencil sharpeners, or lighters. he knows it's an invasion of privacy, but he really doesn't want you to hurt yourself ever again.

he constantly reassures you that you can talk to him.

#south park #south park x reader #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick #kenny x reader #kyle x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #south park x sh reader #platonic south park x reader #south park headcanons

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ahedderick · 4 months

Text

Yesterday was a running-around day, unfortunately. We started with a family dentist trip (we schedule all our checkups at the same morning for simplicity's sake). This was literally the first time in my life that I have visited a new dentist's office, due to Dr. L's ridiculously long career followed by him selling his practice about 5 yrs ago to another dentist who kept the office and all the staff the same. Small town stuff.

There were a couple of hours between that and the afternoon errand. I wanted to sew, but my brain . . .

Me: I want to sew

My Brain: Yes! Let's do the easy part!

Me: Noo-o-o, we need to figure out that welt pocket before doing the easy part.

My Brain: Augh! No! Only the easy part!

The pattern I'm using has directions for a FAKE POCKET on this vest. I want to put in a real one. Not that the Son has a pocket watch, but I am against fake pockets in general. I cut some scrap fabric and made one for practice (a garmentless pocket? hehee). It turned out just fine, so I took some measurements and cut a rectangular piece of the gray fabric. The problem I face was that the vest fabric has a little 'give' to it, whereas the scrap I used was very crisp, sturdy fabric. It took a bit longer than I wanted, and a LOT of concentration, but it turned out ok. Not pro-quality, but acceptable.

In the afternoon I had to drive about an hour east to another town to pick up unsold artwork from a gallery Christmas show. My daughter wanted a particular pair of jeans from Target, which does not exist in our town, so she came along. That made the trip much nicer. Navigating the road structure of a giant-mall proved to be a bit beyond my capabilities, tho. It didn't help that, once we were on mall property, they didn't have road signs intersections. Are we on Cole Road or not? GUESS!! We got there by a circling, scanning-the-horizon, seat-of-the-pants style of navigation. Target's sign is highly visible from a distance.

Once inside, I was flabbergasted. I have never been in a Target before. I have never been in a store that LARGE before. I couldn't even see the other side of the store, it just vanished into the distance. In an unbelievable stroke of luck, the jeans she needed were literally the FIRST clothing display inside from where we entered. She found what she wanted, tried it on, and we got the heck out of there.

Unhappily, the gallery returned all three of the works I had submitted . . I was really hoping they'd have sold one or two. She drove on the way home, which was fine except for the travelling-west-into-the-late-afternoon-sun issue. And then when we got less than a mile from home, she somehow managed to pick up a razor blade in the left rear tire. When we got out at the house she could hear the hiss of escaping air. How? Was a razor blade sitting on the road in such a way that it could enter a tire? The darned thing is FLAT! It should have been lying there flat! Why? did someone toss that on a country road? Many questions. Glad we got home, but today will have an unexpected car-fixing complication.

#don't even know how to tag this #I need a tag for random adventures

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thenightling · 6 months

Text

The poisoned Candy myth

Please don't spread the memes claiming that "such and such" was found in candy.

I used to know someone stupid enough to believe these sort of memes. She would check her siblings candy and she became convinced that if the wrapper didn't have a small pocket of air inside it, that it meant the candy was injected with something.

I internally winch when I think about how much good candy she threw away because she genuinely believed (and probably still believes) that she was protecting her siblings from poisonings.

The only reason candy wrappers have an air pocket in them is a happen stance in packaging and what factory / plant the candy came from. Often it's just to do with shrinkage. Companies like Hershey will reduce the size of the candy slightly to save money and then use the older / bigger wrapper, which sometimes causes a little air to get trapped when the candy is sealed. But this is not consistent. And a little big of air in the package (as a sane person would know) does NOT mean "protected from contamination."

Just as a tight packaging around the candy, or loose wrapper doesn't mean "poisoned."

Most people don't have the time or money to inject a whole bunch of candy with drugs. Also you need something liquid-like to inject the contamination into.

You might think it's funny to spread the paranoia about poisoned candy or razor blades but there are parents who take those memes as fact and have banned their kids from trick or treating.

Or you get not-so-bright people like my ex-friend discarding large piles of perfectly good candy because she though there was always supposed to be noticeable air trapped in the fun sized packaging. And I'm afraid others might have similar, ridiculous beliefs.

And no, she wasn't saying that to her little siblings to hog the candy (as some parents might). She was really throwing it away, thinking that it meant the packaging had been punctured by a syringe.

I actually don't think that's ever happened...

And please don't say "If they're stupid enough to fall for it, they deserve to have Halloween ruined."

What about the children of the stupid people? The children didn't believe the claims and yet they will miss out because of the paranoia of their parents or older siblings

And if you doubt me:

#Halloween

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minefield-of-a-ninja · 1 year

Text

28 DAYS: CHAPTER ONE

Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given the choice to go to rehab for 28 days, or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.

Chapter Characters: Dean Winchester, (mentions) Gordon Walker, Victor Henriksen, Jo Harvelle, Casey (Wood), Sam Winchester

Chapter tags, warnings: sexually explicit, emergency action, fire, drug use, thoughts of death and dying, teen endangerment

Chapter WC: 3k

Author’s notes: Inspired by the film 28 Days and following canon themes from SPN, this is a fic about Dean, a firefighter who goes to rehab, not about Dean as a firefighter. Thank you to my brilliant and insightful focus puller and long-time friend @brrose-apothecary for making that distinction, and many more thanks to her and to @stusbunker for their unending support, readings, and conversations about things that matter.

If I use terminology related to firefighting, drug use, or addiction recovery, I will be sure to define it in the notes.

Triple V = vodka, Valium (diazepam), and Vicodin (hydrocodone)

K = Ketamine

text divider by @talesmaniac89

CHAPTER ONE

Everything’s hot and slick and right on the edge of falling somewhere even hotter.

Every song is for you, every come hither look and sultry laugh, every praise, invitation, everything worth a fuck is for you.

Hands and lips and tongues, beguiling; teeth and nails, punishing — all the sensations of our earthly bodies are shards of crystal swathed in satin and velvet, tied with pure golden thread.

There’s a lustful cacophony, a symphony surrounding you, everything sounds like fucking, and it sounds like it’s coming from inside of you — like it’s part of you.

No matter how loud it gets, it’s never too loud. Nothing’s ever too much or enough.

You want more, more, more, fuck yes, more.

“Winchester,” Dean mumbles, squinting at the incoming number and the time. His vision swims from side to side before he figures out that it’s 4:45 AM and the call is from dispatch.

“Chief, we have a conflagration at Midland High School, north on highway 59.”

Dean murmurs a swear as he rolls to his back and drags a hand over his face.

He was at Gordon’s until 3:30 this morning, when he downed a Triple V and then walked six blocks back to his place to crash. He hasn’t even had time to dream, but his dreams aren’t usually the good kind anyway.

“A’right. Chief Novak in?” He swings his legs over the side of his bed and slumps upright as he slides the drawer to his nightstand open.

“Yes, sir,” replies the dispatcher. “All hands, sir.”

She doesn’t apologize for calling him on his morning off, and she shouldn’t. This isn’t the first time, nor will it be the last time that Dean’s called in on his day off. As Battalion Chief, it’s his duty to lead big jobs like conflagrations.

He’s fucked up, though; his brain isn’t firing on more than one single cylinder at this point, so he’s going to need an extra pick-me-up this morning.

“Thanks, Mia,” he rumbles before disconnecting the call and dropping his phone to his pillow.

He lifts a small mirror from inside the drawer upon which lies a razor blade, a small amount of white powder, and a short, thin stainless steel tube. Dean deftly cuts two thin lines with the blade and quickly snorts them.

Before running out the door, Dean blasts himself with a 45-second cold shower while brushing his teeth and pockets a small vial of blow for later; there’s no telling how long this’ll last.

Dean and his team pull up to the school amidst a scene of first responders, police, and news crews. His most recent ex... whatever she was to him, Casey Wood, is the reporter closest to them.

Dean drops from the driver’s side of the truck to his feet and throws her a wink which earns him an eye roll and a cold shoulder. Snapshots of Casey crying, throwing things, and slamming doors whirr through his mind, as he secures his gear.

“Casey, Casey, Casey,” Victor sing-songs as he joins Dean.

They always banter as they gear up, but Dean’s a little more on edge this morning than usual. Casey's name so casually on Victor’s lips raises Dean’s hackles in a way it doesn’t usually. He recognizes it and steels himself to keep up the facade.

“The things that girl can do with her mouth,” Dean says with a wicked smirk.

“Whoa-ho-hoooa!” Victor hoots.

It’s a cheap shot, and Dean knows it. Casey’s fucking smart and tough. She never faked anything in her life, she said what she said, and she loved him, too, if he’d have let her.

“Good morning, misogyny!” Jo hops down next to them, buckling her harness.

Dean feels unreal and unmoored, but they’ve got a job to do. He closes his eyes and breathes, then shrugs out an eye roll.

“Aww, c’mon, darlin’, I appreciate her skill. That ain’t a hateful thing,” Dean slams the door shut, and Victor snorts beside him.

Jo glares at him in disbelief. “You’re a fucking pig. Let’s go.” She turns on her heel and slaps her hand against the side of the truck as she walks, hurrying up the other two members of their team.

Dean blinks rapidly. He’s queasy and buzzing. He remembers the vial in his pocket, under layers of uniform and gear, and berates himself for not having better access to it. His mind starts to spin around excuses to stay back and dig it out before Victor claps him on the back.

“You heard the lady, boss.” Victor grins, and Dean flashes a tight smile in response. They’re fully suited up as they jog to catch up with Jo, Zeke, and Nick.

Under lights and camera, Casey tells the story of the day.

“Fire Chief Castiel Novak has informed us that a group of Midland High School boys has admitted to starting the fire,” she reads from the teleprompter to the camera.

“One of the four arsonists was injured in the blast and is trapped inside the school’s chemistry lab with dangerous chemicals and potentially open bunsen burner outlets,” she continues. “The boy’s cries can be heard through an external window broken for ventilation. The other three boys are currently being examined by paramedics onsite.

“Just now,” she pauses and motions toward the retreat of Dean’s team, “Battalion Chief Dean Winchester has arrived to lead the rescue team. We’ll provide more details as we receive them.”

Dean’s team is always the same. They know each other like they know their own selves. Some of them have known each other their whole lives, like he and Jo Harvelle. Dean and Victor Henriksen have known each other since middle school. Zeke Gadreel and Nick Iblis served two tours in Iraq together, and no matter how unhealthy or co-dependent their relationship may be to outsiders, Dean’s grateful for their bond.

He talks the way through even if he repeats himself because he needs it to stay grounded, and they need to hear his voice. This is where he shines, leading his team and making them feel safe.

Two corridors over from the lab, he stops.

“A’right, we’re gonna do this clean and sharp. Keep your eyes and ears open and listen to Cas.” He taps the com in his ear as the team triple-checks each other’s rigs. “We know there’s one kid in here, based on testimony from the other little fuckers who started this thing, but let’s not rule anything out.”

He makes eye contact with each and every one of them for final confirmation before he nods one last time and turns toward the worst of the smoke.

“Like I said, eyes and ears open.”

When they reach the lab, Dean makes a motion to hold, and his team complies.

“Cas, you there?” he asks.

“Hold in position,” Chief Novak states over the radio. “We’re going to try to cut through the roof for sightlines.”

Dean pulls a glove off to test the heat. “Door’s hot as an oven, Cas, and I can still hear ‘im cryin’ in there. Fuckin’ kid.”

Dean grits his teeth. His daughter Emma just started school at Midland this fall. She’s a freshman. This kid’s probably in her class.

Not that he’d know; Emma hasn’t talked to Dean in five weeks.

“All stop,” the head chief states with new information. “Dean, we can’t open the roof.”

“Fuckin’- of course not.” Dean sighs and pulls his glove back on.

“If we get too much oxygen in there before we know what other chemicals we’re dealing with, the explosion will blow the door and the rest of the roof off that lab with you and your team in it.”

Dean nods his head as the chief rattles off everything they all fucking know. He’s about to come out of his skin from the heat and urge to rip the door off the hinges all by himself just to be done with it.

“Right,” he mutters, rolling his neck and picturing the precious, unattainable vial in his pocket.

The boy’s screams roar over the din of the event, and Dean squeezes his eyes shut tight. His mind scrambles around memories of his baby brother crying in his arms as he ran from his home’s blaze more than 35 years ago. He shakes his head to clear it, which only serves to make his stomach lurch.

“Dean? You OK?” Jo asks, concern marring her soft face.

Dean doesn��t answer her. “Has anybody got eyes on the fire line?” he asks, assessing his gear for anything he can unload, anything that might weigh him down.

“Chief,” someone utters, and the uncertain eyes of his team are burning hotter than the fire. Zeke takes a step toward him, and Dean snarls.

Chief Novak’s voice cracks through the com. “Dean, I’m telling you, we couldn’t open the roof the way we opened the hallway. The oxygen will-”

“Yeah, Cas, I heard ya the first time, and this ain’t my first fuckin’ rodeo.” Dean turns to his crew, dropping rope and gear.

“Dean, y’heard Cas-” Victor reaches for him.

“Get out,” Dean says, and Victor drops his hand and turns to Jo. “I’m goin’ in alone. Now!”

“All stop! All stop! All stop!”

An invisible force pushes Dean from behind, and he lands on his shoulder.

The kid rolls in one direction, and Dean rolls in the opposite. A boom sounds, and the smoke takes on a remarkably orange hue.

On autopilot and half-conscious, Dean crawls to check the kid’s pulse before a rush of bodies, shouts, and lights knock him out cold.

“Fuck, that’s good, Case.” Dean brushes her hair to the side so he can watch his cock disappear between her stretched lips like a shining piston into a slick cylinder.

Casey hums, slowly bobbing her head, and twisting her fist around his girth. Her other delicate hand rests on Dean’s denim-clad knee as she kneels between his booted feet on her living room rug.

There’s still enough K in his system that every slide of her tongue feels like magic skittering along his dick. He slides a hand into her hair and twists it.

Twenty minutes ago, Casey tried to slam the door in his face, but not before calling him a liar. He didn’t lie, though. He fully intended to be there for dinner with her parents; he just lost track of time.

Besides, why in Hell would she want her parents to know she lets him in her house at all, let alone inside her body?

“I’m so sorry, sweet girl,” Dean mutters, gripping the base of his cock and gently lifting her by her chin. “Lemme make it up to you.”

He’s on call starting at 6 AM tomorrow, so it’s good he’s there. Casey won’t let him do anything stupid. Instead, he can sober up and fuck it out, go to the station fresh in the morning.

As he pulls her from the floor to lay her back against her couch cushions, she looks at him like he’s something extraordinary, and his belly flips.

“You’re too good to me, Case,” he whispers, twisting his body and hers, sliding his hands up under her dress, and wedging his shoulders under her thighs.

Her eyes soften, and he can’t stand looking into them so deeply. He brushes his thumbs up along the satiny edges of her panties before closing his eyes and dipping in to press kisses to the damp fabric.

Casey moans, writhing under him with a smile.

She thinks he lied to her, but she still lets him in. Dean doesn’t lie; he just sucks at keeping promises. He’s better at apologizing.

He slips his fingers inside the leg of her panties to lightly knuckle her slit as he reaches around one long lean thigh to lace his other fingers with hers over her smooth belly. When he pulls the fabric of her panties aside to kiss and lick her bare pussy, he groans at her heat and taste.

He wants to dive in and devour her, but this isn’t about what he wants.

Casey’s free hand lands on the back of Dean’s head, and she rolls her hips up into his face.

“That’s right,” he breathes and slides his tongue down one side and up the other of her clit. “Take what you want, princess.”

“Dean,” she whispers, twisting his hair in her fist. “I just want you...”

Dean wakes up in the hospital. He’s hooked up to machines and bags of fluid. His tongue is stuck to the roof of his mouth and painful when he tries to separate it. He draws a deep breath and immediately hacks, wincing from the pain that radiates from his shoulder, chest, and hips.

“Fuck,” he groans in a broken whisper.

Dean hates hospitals. No one likes hospitals, but Jesus fucking Christ, Dean’s never had a single positive experience in one. He can’t breathe. It’s all in his head, but that doesn’t make it any easier to try.

“You dislocated your shoulder,” Sam speaks from somewhere in the room.

Dean freezes and closes his eyes. He doesn’t bother to find his brother by sight. If Sam’s there, this is bad.

“Broke two ribs and strained your hip. You’re lucky to be alive, and not just because of your injuries.” Sam’s voice draws closer with each word.

“You here to finish me off?” Dean asks, trying for a joke, but he doesn’t have much of a voice. He ends up sounding like he’s choking, which is appropriate.

Sam doesn’t laugh. “I’m here to tell you that you’re done, Dean.”

Dean scoffs, shifting in his bed, increasingly agitated by the tubes and wires attached to him but without the energy or brain space to do anything about them. He clears his throat and swallows.

“Done with what, exactly?” he asks, finally laying eyes on his brother.

He looks good — healthy and strong. Sad, though. Or maybe he’s mad, Dean can never tell anymore.

“Your bullshit, playboy, disaster of a life,” Sam replies with clear contempt.

Dean stares at him, waiting. He doesn’t have a comeback. He’s out of them.

Sam starts to pace. “Your team got the fire and hot spots out about eight hours after you collapsed. Cyrus Styne, the 16-year-old kid you went in after, is in critical condition.”

Sam stops no more than a foot from Dean’s bed, looking him dead in the eye.

“You tested positive for marijuana, hydrocodone, diazepam, and cocaine, and your blood-alcohol level was .23. That’s almost three times the legal level of intoxication. I don’t even fucking know how you walked into a burning building-”

“Hmm. And did I consent to these tests?” Dean murmurs, derailing the very clear direction Sam was headed with his diatribe.

For the first time since the last time Dean saw his brother, Sam is obviously confounded by how Dean isn’t dead already — so is Dean.

Sam scoffs and shakes his head. His gaze is strained, and his jaw is tight. “Dean, I... I can’t get you out of this.”

Sam has worked magic in the past. One of his greatest efforts was winning joint custody of Emma for Dean. Sam works by the letter of the law, but the best lawyers know how to make the law work for them and their clients.

Dean is suddenly very, very tired. He can’t remember the last time he did anything to make Sam proud. He doesn’t even know if he ever has.

“I need a cigarette,” he mumbles before looking up to study the ceiling.

“Look, the only thing I could do was get them to agree to 28 days in a rehab facility-”

“Ugh, Sammy,” Dean wails, sitting up and immediately tugging at the IVs and monitors. An alarm goes off, and Sam turns his back and moves toward the large window overlooking the parking lot.

Three men rush into the room, two orderlies and a nurse, to restrain Dean. He immediately gives up, feeling wasted, sick, and terrified.

“Your other option is jail,” Sam mutters from the window, and Dean’s stomach drops. His throat convulses as he attempts to swallow back the bile rising in his throat.

The orderlies stand back as the nurse assesses the damage Dean’s done with his little outburst. Dean closes his eyes and breathes as he re-fastens the patches and IVs.

He won’t cry, he won’t cry, he won’t cry...

“You’re suspended from the department, probably indefinitely,” Sam continues quietly. “I can’t even get Cas on the phone. You endangered the lives of your entire team and everyone onsite. Your team, Dean. Jo. Victor. Casey was there.”

Dean burrows into the thin, lumpy bed, shivering from the feel of needles in his veins and the low vibration of the monitors attached to his chest. He doesn’t see when the nurse and the orderlies leave, but he can feel the shift in the air.

“I know.”

He doesn’t know any more about the fire than what Sam’s told him, but he damn well knows what an absolute disappointment he is to his little brother.

“Dean, why-” Sam sighs, sounding as weary and distraught as Dean feels.

Dean is silent as he stares at the ceiling, and Sam doesn’t seem surprised.

“Forget it.” Sam grabs his jacket from the visiting chair and starts to shrug into it. “As soon as you can be released from here, someone’ll pick you up to transport you to the facility. Text me a list of what you need from your apartment, and I’ll make sure it gets packed.”

Sam draws a final breath before leaving the room, and Dean wills himself to sleep.

Chapter 2

Please let me know what you think!

Series Masterlist

MJ's Masterlist

#Dean Winchester AU #Dean Winchester is saved

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emotionalcadaver · 7 months

Text

Part 19: In the Bleak Midwinter

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Grace Burgess x OC

Summary: Lucy and Tommy teeter upon crossing a line neither of them will be able to come back from.

Word Count: 5,202

Notes: Warnings for depictions of grief, torture, blood, violence, smut, Tommy being a tease, praise kinks, and size kinks.

Masterlists: Main • Series • Fic

Previous Part • Next Part

Chapter 7: Until the Blackbirds Sing

She squeezed tightly to Tommy’s arm as he guided them through the dark winding tunnels. There was no light, save for the shining glimmers from his lantern and the dull orange blaze from his cigarette. If she got lost in there, she would never find her way out. But Tommy made sure she was attached firmly to his arm, keeping his pace steady so that he ran no risk of losing her in the darkness.

Cocking her head to look up at him, she couldn’t help but muse over how much he lived up to his namesake of the Devil. Clad in dark clothes, with beautiful features that might have been carved from marble, and sad, vengeful eyes gleaming in darkness, he could easily have passed for the king of Hell. Come to torture a sinful soul who’d displeased him.

They rounded a corner and entered a long, dimly lit room. And seated on a chair, stripped down to his waist, was Vicente Changretta. John and Arthur were leaning against columns on either side of him, stony faced. Had it been up to Lucy, they wouldn’t have been there at all, so she and Tommy could do what they needed to in privacy, but Tommy wanted them there. So they stayed.

Tommy set down the case and the lantern he’d brought with him. Lucy let him go, moving to stand a little ways behind him, leaning against a column and crossing her arms over her chest.

Tommy removed his hat. Then his coat. Then his suit jacket, hanging each against the back of a chair that he drew up in front of Changretta, sitting down before him. He was now in just his waistcoat and white button down shirt, leather black gloves still covering his hands. Changretta was mumbling to himself, his eyes closed as he prayed in Italian.

“Do you know what time it is, old man?” Tommy asked. Changretta didn’t answer, just continued mumbling. Already Lucy felt her temper spike. The least the old bastard could do was offer them a shred of respect by answering. “I’ll tell you,” Tommy purred, checking his pocket watch. “It’s after seven in the evening, and I’m going to keep you alive until it gets light,” he scooted closer. It was cold in the room. So cold that she could see the puffs of Tommy’s breath when he spoke. “I’ll not deliver the final cut until we can both hear the blackbirds singing outside.”

Lucy felt a self satisfied smirk slide across her lips. Even though it still wasn’t enough. Not even close. It would never make up for the agony of having to go the rest of their lives without Grace by their side.

Tommy seized Changretta by the back of the neck and yanked him close to whisper in his ear. “It’s a beautiful sound, which my wife will never hear again.”

Lucy felt her face crumble at those words, the sting of tears burning at her eyes that she blinked stubbornly away. With every blink, she swore that she saw Grace, standing towards the back of the room, lips pursed and eyes disapproving as she stared at them.

Don’t.

Lucy swallowed. We have to. It’s all we know to do.

When she blinked again, Grace was gone.

The chair shrieked as its legs scraped along the floor when Tommy stood up, towering over Changretta. A gloved hand held out. John hesitated, then came forward with a case, unlatching and opening it to Tommy. Inside it was lined with red velvet, blades and intricate, tortuous devices gleaming within. Tommy plucked from it a razor.

“Now, I’m gonna have to choose carefully which part of you I cut away first,” as Tommy spoke, John stepped away with the case. From the corner of her eye, Lucy saw him and Arthur share an uneasy look. She decided to ignore them.

“Open your eyes,” Tommy ordered. When Changretta didn’t, his voice rose to a bellowing roar. “Open your eyes, or I will cut away your fucking eyelids!”

Changetta’s eyes snapped open, to finally stare at the monster looming over him.

“Now look at me,” Tommy’s voice softened. “Look at me. This is the end. This is the end,” he looked Changretta up and down. “It was your tongue that gave the order,” he took Changretta’s face in one hand, the leather of his gloves creaking. Lucy’s heart was pounding. “I’ll take your tongue first.”

Oh, good. Then he would finally stop that infuriating praying.

Not that it was doing him any good. There was no God here, after all.

It was just the Devil and his demons, standing over him.

Tommy’s face twisted, stepping back as he spoke. “Then I’ll take your ears. Then I’ll take your fingers. Then your fucking toes,” he was looming over Changretta again. “See, I take your balls first, you drain too fast, like you fuckers do. Then, maybe, I’ll take a break,” his eyes flashed over to Lucy. “And I’ll let my demon have her fun with you for a while. Oh…” he stroked Changretta’s cheek. “She can do wondrous things with a razor,” he shot a look her way, and despite the endless fury and frantic pain that had been filling his eyes as he spoke to Changretta, the moment his gaze landed on her she saw beneath that the affection he held for her.

Another part of her, the most lecherous part, that until that moment had been asleep, began to stir, subtly squeezing her thighs together. He was terrifying and out of his mind with grief and rage and yet he still looked at her like that. Like she was his most favorite person in the entire world.

And perhaps that was what it was. Knowing that despite all the violent potential brimming under his skin, never once would he turn any of it upon her.

She wondered just how awful it made her, to be so turned on when her lover was about to brutally torture a man to death in front of her, then realized that she didn’t really care anymore if it made her awful or not.

They were both already damned several times over. Might as well enjoy themselves.

“No, I think tongue first. Tongue first,” Tommy mumbled, squeezing Changretta’s face, trying to wrench his jaws open. Then he stopped. “If I take your tongue, you won’t be able to explain, and I want you to explain. I want you to fucking explain,” he gave Changretta a light shake, something in his voice breaking, tone rising. Freezing, he stared down into the old man’s face, then pulled his head to his chest in an embrace. His breathing was heavy, and the moment before his eyes jammed shut, Lucy saw an expression pass over them she hadn’t expected to see.

He looked lost.

Suddenly, she felt panicked, the other parts of herself that she’d managed to shove down until then were rising up, scrambling from the hole she’d tried to bury them in. As if Tommy’s sudden internal conflict had been contagious, seeping into her. She could hear her heart pounding in her ears, hands starting to shake.

When she heard Grace’s voice, right next to her ear, she almost screamed.

“You could stop him.”

Lucy wetted her lips and shook her head. Stubbornly trying to stay the course. But Changretta was still fucking praying, and she really didn’t know what would happen at all after this was done.

Did they just go home, and carry on? Go play with Charlie like nothing had fucking happened?

Fuck, how the hell were they going to face Charlie? Touch him with the same hands that had just torn apart a man piece by piece.

The same man who had his mother murdered, she tried to logic to herself, straightening her spine and clenching her jaw.

Tommy let Changretta go and pulled away, walking down the length of the room, muttering to himself.

“Come on, Tommy,” he squatted down.

“You could stop him,” Grace repeated in her ear. No, not Grace. Just a treacherous part of her subconscious trying to ruin everything. “You’re the only one right now who could.”

Lucy balled her small hands into fists, watching Tommy wrestle with himself on the other end of the room, wondering if he was dealing with the same internal voices that she was. It felt like she was being pulled into dozens of directions, moments away from being torn apart from it, so conflicted she felt she might be sick or on the verge of a panic attack.

Tommy straightened, and turned around. “I forget who I am,” his voice was loud in the quiet of the room. He began to approach Changretta, razor blade raised. “I forget who I am.”

The voice in her ear was more frantic, now. “If this changes him forever, you’ll never forgive yourself.”

We’re already changed forever, she tried to argue back.

“Not like that,” Grace said. “He’s going to turn into a monster, Lucy.”

Isn’t that what we are already?

Grace looked at her with scrutinizing eyes, tilting her head. “You two are a lot of things,” her lover murmured, crossing her arms over her chest, leaning against the column beside her. Lucy swore she could feel the fabric of her shirt brush her arm. “Cruel was never one of them.”

Tommy was advancing on Changretta, voice raising to shout. “I’m a blinder, I’ll take your fucking eyes first!”

Panic squeezed violently at Lucy’s chest, taking a step forward, lips parting before she’d entirely even thought about it. “Tommy–” The rest of what she might’ve said was lost in the echo of a gunshot.

Blood exploded from Changretta’s head to splatter and drip wetly onto the floor. Tommy jerked back from the shot in surprise. Lucy’s head whipped around, to stare at the gun, still smoking, that Arthur had clutched in his hand.

“I heard the blackbirds sing,” he said, lowering the gun. Tommy was just staring at Changretta’s body, as if frozen.

“And we let his wife board the immigrant ship back to New York. We didn’t kill Mrs. Changretta,” John muttered.

“It’s alright,” Arthur was approaching Tommy with slow, careful steps. “We’re not those kind of men,” he reached down, and plucked the razor from the still frozen Tommy’s hand. As he started to walk away, towards the exit, he met Lucy’s eyes. She stared at him, unsure of what exactly to say.

“Thank you,” she mouthed to him, finally. Arthur nodded, and continued on his way.

As she watched his face, Tommy slowly, gradually, started to come back to himself, features relaxing and softening somewhat, his lips rubbing together. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve, glancing back the way that Arthur had gone before sighing.

“You get rid of the body, John,” he waved a hand towards the case of torture materials. “Get rid of those for good,” his voice was very soft as he gathered up his coat and suit jacket, folding them over one arm.

Lucy glanced back at the dripping mess of blood from Changretta’s head, her eyes fluttering slow and lazily. When she looked back over beside her, the space was empty. Grace wasn’t there.

“Lucy?”

She looked up, startled, to find Tommy staring at her a little ways across the room. He had begun the walk towards the exit, but stopped when he realized she was not with him. He held out a black gloved hand to her, eyes unsure as they searched her face.

“Come on, love.”

Nodding, she went to him, taking his hand and letting him lead her away from the body and back through the winding dark tunnels until they got to the car. Neither of them said anything as he started it and began to drive down the road back towards home.

“They should’ve probably killed the teacher,” she finally whispered, eyes just staring out the window at the darkness surrounding them. “She could come after us.”

“Yeah,” Tommy mumbled, wetting his lips. “It’s alright.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. She wasn’t sure if she was just too exhausted to care, or if she really were that apathetic to the whole situation. Probably a bit of both.

They spent the rest of the drive in silence.

∗ ∗ ∗

“Tommy?” she stopped when she realized that while he had killed the car’s engine, he had yet to get out, just sitting there with his eyes staring straight ahead, hands still on the wheel. “Are you coming?”

He started, as if she had shaken him awake, and got out of the car, closing the door with a slam and following her into the house.

She’d started to shiver around the time that they pulled into the drive, yanking her coat tighter around herself, unsure if she was actually cold or if it was just the adrenaline finally leaving her system.

“Mary, could you have a fire lit in the west sitting room?” Tommy said to the housekeeper when she came to greet them.

“Of course, sir.”

“And where’s Ada?”

“She and the children have already gone to sleep, sir.”

He nodded. “Alright, thank you.”

Lucy went numbly to the sitting room, watching as a maid rummaged with the fireplace until bright orange flames were bursting from it. Dismissing her with a wave of her hand, Lucy settled herself down on the floor in front of the fireplace, taking the fire poker and nudging at the burning logs with it. She was still shivering, her teeth chattering as her muscles convulsed, trying to focus on the flames and embers rather than anything else.

A thick, wool blanket was draped over her shoulders, wrapping around her warmly. She heard Tommy grunt quietly to himself as he sat down on the floor beside her. He’d shed all layers save for his white button down shirt and slacks, and dark bags had bloomed under his eyes. Giving one last half hearted jab at the fire, she set the fire poker aside and scooted closer to him, until he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her into his chest.

“Did I scare you?” he asked, one huge hand cradling the back of her head as he held her against him. It was hard to imagine, how those hands had been moments away from committing unspeakable atrocities, when he was touching her so gently.

“No,” she answered honestly, curling in closer, feeling how he gripped her tighter every time she shivered. “I scared me.”

“Mm,” he hummed in understanding, chin resting atop her head. Lucy closed her eyes.

“I should’ve been the one to stop you,” craning her head, she peered up at him. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at her shrewdly. “You were going to, weren’t you?”

“Probably,” she bit her lip, debating if she should tell him the next bit. “I saw Grace.”

He went stiff and still underneath her, brows pulling in. “What?”

“I don’t know if it was actually her,” she added hastily. “Probably was just my subconscious trying to talk some sense into me.”

“What did she say?”

“She was trying to get me to stop us.”

Tommy was staring into the fire, frowning as he listened to her. Beneath her head, his chest heaved as he sighed. “I think we’ve both let ourselves go a little mad here, love.”

She made a tiny, amused sound. “Yeah, probably,” she began to trace nonsensical patterns into his chest with her fingertip. Without the additional layer of his waistcoat, she could more easily feel the heat of his body, quickly warming her up and chasing away the chill from her shock. “Are you glad that it didn’t go any farther?”

He shifted her in his arms, getting a little more comfortable in front of the fire. “I am. Are you?”

“Yeah,” wrapping both arms around his waist to snuggle closer, she closed her eyes again. And then, without really thinking, she said, “was kinda sexy, though.”

Tommy’s chest rumbled pleasantly with his surprised laugh. “Oh, is that so?”

Her eyes cracked open to be met with his amused expression. “Mhm,” her brows furrowed. “Think that means there’s something wrong with me?”

“Nah,” he stroked her cheek affectionately. “I like you the way you are. Fucked up kinks and all.”

Snorting, Lucy buried her face into his chest, feeling her cheeks heat. Tommy continued to hold her, idly stroking her hair as he stared into the fire.

“Damn,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Maybe I shouldn’t have had John get rid of those tools, then.”

Lucy sputtered out a laugh. “That’s not–that’s not funny,” she protested even as she continued to giggle. Tommy breathed a laugh into her hair, kissing her there, then leaning back to cradle her face in his hands.

“Come here,” he whispered, and then he was kissing her softly, hands holding her face and drawing her in closer. Lucy placed her hands flat on his chest, lips parting to his as the kiss started to grow deeper, Tommy keeping one hand on her face while the other looped around her to splay across her back. He was moving slow and gentle with her, especially as he shifted her to lay down on her back. Her blanket fell away to lay open on either side of her, but that was okay because she was plenty warm now with Tommy pressing his body to hers from above, still kissing her, painfully soft in his every movement.

He sat up off of her briefly to help her devest him of his shirt, tossing it away before he started to work on the buttons of her waistcoat, still kissing her. She pulled her mouth away from his, ever so briefly, to place a kiss on the scar on his upper chest, eyes closed as she nuzzled at him and breathed in the scene of cigarettes and his cologne. Sometime while she was busy with breathing him in he got off her waist coat and white button down, undoing the ties of her bra. She hummed, hips thrusting against his when he cupped both her breasts in his warm palms.

The fire before them popped and crackled as he laid her back down, crawling over her again to press his mouth to hers, groaning into her mouth when she traced her hands down his back. She shivered, legs looping around his waist while he began to ghost kisses down her body, along the sensitive spots on her neck, over her chest, pausing to bring her stiff nipples to his lips until she keened and tightened her legs around him. Then he was descending down her stomach, thumbs and lips stroking over the scars that still marred her skin, and a lump formed briefly in her throat at how loved her felt.

She had to loosen her legs from where they were cinched around his waist, raising them eagerly after he’d undone her belt and the buttons on her slacks so he could pull them off. Tommy settled himself between her thighs with a pleased hum, eyes swooping over her languidly now that she was bare to him. When they met hers, he gave her a tender little smile that could’ve made her melt, and kissed a small scar on her inner thigh.

“Tommy,” she whispered, gasping as he dipped his head lower and unceremoniously buried his face in her cunt, tongue circling around her clit. Her fingers clenched into the long part of his dark hair, whimpering at the way his groans vibrated against her when she did.

He ate her out slow and lazy, drawing her right to the edge and then backing off, spreading kisses along her inner thighs until she was far enough away from her orgasm and then he dove back in, giving her long swipes of his tongue and soft hums against her clit that made her shiver. Even when he finally stretched her around two of his thick fingers, his movements were slow and deliberate, just barely brushing along her g-spot, never giving her enough pressure to actually be able to cum.

“Tommy, please,” she sobbed, gripping his hair tighter, back arching off of the floor as her toes curled.

He purred into her core and then pulled back, leaving her to cry out in frustration as he left her to dangle over the edge of the cliff, hips bucking up and trying to follow him.

“Oh, you bastard.”

He laughed, kissing her temple and leaning back, looking far too pleased with himself as he glanced her up and down. His hands burned against her skin as they smoothed up over the swell of her hips, holding her down but only lightly. She could have broken free from him if she’d really wanted to.

She expected him to tease her, to purr out something cocky that would only have her squirming more in his arms, chuckling at her pleas. But instead, he moved to crawl over her, pressing his mouth firmly to hers and letting her taste herself on his tongue while his hands traced delicately along her sides.

“I want to feel you around my cock when you come tonight,” he whispered. Lucy moaned, kissing him harder in agreement. Seeing an opportunity, she reached down to loosen his belt, sliding her hand inside his slacks and moaning as she cupped his erection through his briefs. Tommy growled, nipping at her lips playfully in retaliation.

Giving her one last firm kiss, Tommy sat up, fumbling a little with his slacks. She giggled at the way he practically scrambled to get both them and his briefs off, earning herself a playful pinch to the hip.

She didn’t get long to admire him: long and deliciously thick where he curved up against his stomach, their previous actions clearly having excited him as much as they had her, if the precum gleaming at the tip was of any indication. He crawled back to her and she welcomed him eagerly between her thighs, wrapping them around his waist and cupping the back of his neck as he kissed her. One of his hands fumbled between his legs, taking his cock in hand and guiding it to her entrance. Lucy anchored her hands onto his shoulders, and their mouths, still kissing, both parted to moan into each other as he started to push inside of her.

Once he was seated fully inside, he pulled back, looking down at her earnestly, checking on her to make sure she was alright. Reaching for him, Lucy brushed back a few tendrils of dark hair that had fallen into his eyes, nodding silently to let him know she was okay. He nuzzled his face into her palm, nothing but soft and tender as he pressed himself closer to her still, face tucking into her neck, lips ghosting over the spot he knew always made her shiver as he began to thrust.

Lucy keened, hips bucking upwards to meet his. Tommy’s strokes were slow and very deep, making her moan obscenely with every one as his thick tip massaged her g-spot on every movement.

They had fucked a handful of times since the funeral. Usually outside, in the dead of night after they’d both cried themselves raw and were searching for the comfort and reassurance of each other’s touch. He’d spread his coat out on the ground for her to lay on, or pull her into his lap as they sat beside the dying fire, clutching to each other as they thrust frantically, all but crying out each other’s names. Holding onto one another like if they let the other go, they would disappear.

“Love…fuck,” she scratched her nails lightly down his back and he growled, pace picking up just a little. She was so pent up from his previous teasing that she could already feel her walls beginning to spasm and flutter around him. Tommy clearly felt it too, pace quickening, head lifting and pressing his forehead to hers so he could watch her.

“Always so good for me, love,” he whispered, then growled when she dug her nails into his back in answer. His brows furrowed in concentration, a hand anchoring itself next to her head while the other settled on her thigh, fingers digging into the flesh possessively as he hitched her leg up higher on his waist. He readjusted his position, so that with every swoop of his hips his pubic bone rubbed against her clit. Something devious flashed in his eyes. “Gonna make you come just from this,” he spoke in a rough, gravely voice that went straight to her cunt, grunting when she clenched around him in answer. “Gonna make you come with only my cock.”

“Oh, fuck,” she threw her head back, arching her back up off the floor. He made that growling noise again, the one that always had her core fluttering, hips starting to snap forward with more force, the slap of their skin meeting echoing throughout the room. She wondered, somewhere in the back of her mind, if any of the maids were up and listening at the door. Probably.

The thought of it had a thrill of excitement shuddering through her.

Tommy’s cock throbbed inside of her, and her walls clamped involuntarily down. Ohhhh…she was so close. Teetering right there on the edge. The thought of him soon filling her was enough to have her even closer to coming. She was already so full, his cock stretching her nearly to her limits and always leaving her with a pleasurable ache between her thighs after they were done. But she still wanted more of him. She always did.

“Tommy…Tommy…Tommy…” she chanted, nails digging slightly into his shoulders, walls spasming around him as her orgasm drew closer. He was making sure that his cock hit right where she most needed him, stopping every few thrusts to just grind forward, like he was trying to get his tip just that much deeper into her. Every pump had her toes curling, moans falling from her lips in a stream.

“Fuck, yes,” Tommy’s voice held a strain to it; he’d be coming soon, maybe even right along with her. “So tight…fit me like a fucking glove, sweetheart.”

The moan she let out in agreement was louder than she’d intended. His cock fit perfectly inside of her, big enough to hit even the deepest of pleasurable spots within, but not too much that he hurt her.

Tommy dropped his head back into her neck, turning his face so that he was murmuring directly into her ear.

“Want me to fill you up, love? Come for me and I will. Come for me and I’ll fill you up so good,” he promised, grunting as her walls fluttered around him, head falling back as she sobbed at just the idea of it, babbling nonsensically to him, pretty sure she was begging him for it, though she couldn’t have been sure. Tommy just purred into her neck, continuing to fuck her good, in a way that somehow managed to be both tender and rough. She scrabbled at his back for purchase, dragging his mouth back to hers for a deep kiss.

On the next thrust his pubic bone pressed against her clit, and the dam broke.

She came with a cry of his name, legs seizing around his waist as her walls clamped down almost violently around his cock, cum gushing out around him. Tommy moaned, eyes rolling in his skull at the sensation, thrusts continuing, drawing out her orgasm as he chased his own.

Her mind was still fuzzy from pleasure, but she could still distinctly tell when his orgasm was imminent, his cock twitching and his moans going up an octave. She watched, spellbound, as his eyes fluttered closed and his lips parted, head tilting back when his hips rutted into her one final time and pressed firmly against hers, sheathing himself entirely as his cock spasmed and she felt the first bursting waves of his orgasm start to fill her, just as he’d promised.

Tommy wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to him as he came, forehead pressing against hers while his eyes opened, murmuring her name as she felt his cock continue to pulse as he emptied inside of her.

Chests heaving, he laid heavily on top of her, nuzzling affectionately at her cheek as they came down. The fire beside them was dying, only giving off a few crackling embers, leaving the room otherwise quite dark.

“You’re squishing me,” she complained with a giggle, giving a little push to Tommy’s shoulder. He chuckled, pecking her before rising up on his arms, pulling his softening cock out of her and rolling to lay next to her on the floor. Curling up against him with her head on his chest and his arms around her shoulders, they both watched as the final embers of the fire went out. In the dark, she heard Tommy sniff.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am you’re still here,” he mumbled, fingers carding through her hair. Lucy twisted her head up on his chest to squint at him in the dark.

“Me too.”

He made a pleased sound, his hand in her hair making her feel sleepy. “We should get up off the floor.”

“Mm. Probably,” she yawned. Neither of them moved.

Her eyes were just starting to droop closed when Tommy chuckled and gave her a little jostle to rouse her.

“Right. Seriously. If we stay here everything will hurt tomorrow.”

“We’re not that old,” she mumbled into his chest. Tommy snorted.

“Your age sure as shit doesn’t have a two in front of it anymore, love. C’mon.”

She gasped in mock offense. “You take that back!”

Laughing, he slipped out from underneath her, tossing her his shirt to pull on and tugging up his briefs. Apparently deciding that made them decent enough, he scooped her up into his arms, dropping a kiss between her brows before he began to carry her towards the stairs and to bed.

They had moved most of their things from the room they’d shared with Grace to a separate, still spacious room in the house. It was too painful to go into her room every day. To look at the vanity she’d used or the closet that still contained all of her clothes.

Kicking the door shut with his heel, Tommy set Lucy down gently onto the bed before crawling in with her, settling against her chest with his arms around her, body half off of hers so that he wouldn’t crush her under his weight. Lucy smiled, stroking his shoulders as she felt him relax. He turned his head to kiss the side of her neck. She poked him in the shoulder.

“What would people say, if they knew that the Devil was secretly so cuddly?” she teased. Tommy’s chest rumbled when he laughed warmly into her skin.

“It’s a good thing that I trust you to keep my secrets, then, eh?”

“Yeah,” she settled back against the pillows, relaxing into his arms as he rested more heavily into hers. Warm and comfortable and loved.

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

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freakshowtwopointoh · 6 months

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Not sure if they meant this romantically but Imma do it anyways. So rivals with crushes. Pre canon. MASSIVE TW FOR SELF H@RM. I DESCRIBE IT. PLEASE CLICK AWAY IF THAT WILL TRIGGER YOU.

@simp-for-hurt-comfort

You never expected to still be struggling with self harm in college. But the pressure only got more intense, and all you wanted to do was prove that you deserved your spot at GodU. You'd tried to quit so many times - flushing razors down the toilet only to buy another next week. But you still were at the top of your class, so it didn't really matter. It's not like anyone had to know.

Especially not fucking Jordan Li. Arrogant, cocky, too pretty for their own good Jordan Li.

Jordan's POV

Every time you raise your hand in class, you can feel their glare on you. Every time you state your opinion, they just have to play devil's advocate.

Sometimes it would wear you down, if you're honest. You wanted them to like you, and when their eyes were on you, it made your heart flip. You'd debate back and forth, getting way more involved than necessary for your classes. But then you'd get a bad grade or be unable to complete an assignment, and they'd go in on you.

Like you didn't already feel bad enough.

You'd spent all night fighting with the demons in your head, telling you that you deserved to hurt, or you needed to cut. You'd been able to ignore them, but you'd forgotten about your assignment. You ran into them before class, clearly empty handed.

"Slacking already, [Y/L/N]? Tsk tsk tsk, I knew you wouldn't be able to cut it. Just give up now, I'll be happy to take the top rank." You did not have time for this today. You glared at them and went to the back of the room, feeling the weight of the blade in your pocket.

They hate know it all's. Fucking innocent looking show offs who act like they have no idea what they're doing. Hand always the first up, always ready to correct them no matter who's listening. Yes, they were talking about [Y/N].

If Jordan didn't know any better, she was coming for their spot.

And if Jordan wasn't lying to themself, they wanted her more than that wanted that spot. Wanted to make her shut up, make her pretty lips say their name.

They shook their head briskly. Focus, Li. Don't forget anything, look cool, make your way to the training field before your one on one with Brink fast enough and you'll have time to train.

They had a great session but couldn't keep her off their mind. They'd tell themself it's just because they want to beat her, but they knew it was a lie.

After their appointment with Brink, they made their way to the restroom. When they walked in, they nearly dropped their bag.

Why is there blood?

Your POV

You took the new blade out of its package and stared at it. You felt a little sick to your stomach, but you just wanted that moment of relief. You'd fought so hard last night, but it didn't feel like it mattered at all. Why bother fighting anyways? Jordan was right, you weren't cut out for this. You should just give up now. You pressed the blade to your wrist and cut. Over and over again, until it was covered in thin cuts and dripping blood. You wished it made you feel better. It used to, or at least you thought it did.

You got up to rinse your arm when you heard the door open and you sprinted back to the stall, heart racing.

"Hey, you ok? Need a tampon?" And before you could even register that it was Jordan's voice, the door to the stall swung open accidentally.

"Fuck." You tried to reach the door, but Jordan caught your arm.

"Don't move. I have a first aid kit in my bag." They pulled the backpack off of their shoulders as you stood frozen.

"Don't worry about it, I'll be fine." Your voice shook slightly as you attempted to make your way back to the sink.

"Don't be silly, those need to be cleaned. You don't want an infection." Your hands started to shake and you could feel tears falling down your face. They took your hand and began cleaning your arm very gently.

Jordan's POV

They thanked their lucky stars they were used to first aid, because their brain was running a mile a minute while they forced themself to stay calm and collected.

Why was she doing this? They knew the science behind it, but like, she seemed like her life was so perfect. Always had the right answer in class, always looked beautiful. Kind to everyone, always smiling.

They tried to think if they'd ever seen her in short sleeves. Then they wished they hadn't.

"Sorry about this." She said softly. "I keep trying to stop but it never sticks. Don't worry about me though, I'm fine." She wouldn't meet their eyes. After they finished cleaning her arm, she pulled a bandana from her pocket and tried wrapping it around her arm.

"Let me." They murmured, carefully wrapping it around her injured arm before securing it in a knot. "And um... If you ever need someone to talk to, or just to keep you company, let me know." She looked at them, eyes still shiny with tears.

"Do you really mean that, or are you just saying it to make yourself feel better?"

"I mean it. Anytime." She held their gaze before nodding.

"Thank you, Jordan. You're not as much of an asshole as you seem." They smiled at this, and tried to ignore how it made their heart feel when she said their name.

Later that week, they were coming home from clubbing with their friends when they saw a shadow leaning against the tree outside their dorm room. It almost looked like...

They walked over in spite of themself.

Your POV

You heard Jordan call your name. You fiddle with your fingers, almost wishing they wouldn't have seen you. But you wave, and walk towards them.

"Sorry for just showing up, I meant to message you but I wasn't sure what to say." You admit.

"I'm glad you're here. I'm not ready to sleep yet." They pulled out a joint. "Care to share?" You nod and the two of you begin to walk. You start out talking about nothing - what shitty TV you like, favorite color, etc. Then, you look to the stars. You sigh at the light pollution.

"I wish I could still see the stars. It's so peaceful, staring up, finding constellations, imagining who else had seen these stars."

"I know what you mean. Whenever nothing made sense, and no one understood me, I'd go lay under the stars. Always changing and yet always constant." You both laid in silence, trying to make out constellations.

You break the silence, not looking at them as you talk.

"Everyone acts like hard work is all it takes to succeed. But it's a fucking lie. You can work your ass off and you can still fail. I always thought that I'd have such an easy time at college. More people, less rules. And yet I still feel like I'm drowning. Like everything is falling through my fingers, and if I make one wrong move everything will tumble down. I'm exhausted." You keep your eyes on the stars, terrified of what they are going to say.

"Fuck. I thought I was the only one who felt that way." They said softly. "You always seem like you have it all together. Always smiling, always pretty." Pretty? You blushed. "Meanwhile, I spend all my free time punching shit, fucking people, or doing drugs. Trying to drown my insecurities before they drown me."

"You always seem so confident. I was always jealous of that. Meanwhile, unless I'm across a classroom, I try to talk to you and my heart goes all funny and my mouth goes dry." The weed was making you over share. "Fuck, I should not have said that. Ignore that." You laugh, but they roll over onto their side, looking at you intently.

"Do you know why I debate you in class all the time?"

"Because you think I'm wrong most of the time." You laughed.

"No. Because you're smart as hell, and strong as hell, and hot as hell, and it's intimidating." They said seriously.

"Haha very funny." They grabbed your chin to force you to keep their gaze.

"I'm serious. And if I wasn't so intimidated by you, I would've asked you to be my girlfriend by now." And then (neither of you would ever admit to initiating your first kiss) your lips were on theirs and you were kissing and sparks were flying and your heart was racing. You tangled your fingers in their hair.

"Holy shit." You said breathlessly.

"So will you?"

"Will I what?"

"Go out with me." Your heart skipped a beat. After everything they've seen... Did they really still want you? You felt the real reason you'd reached out in your pocket and on your arms. You were broken. You'd only be a burden on them. Your demons were getting louder, and you pulled your legs in tight.

"You don't want that."

"Why's that?"

"I'm fucked up, Jordan. You've seen pieces of it but once you see all the broken pieces, you'll run. I shouldn't have come, I don't even know what I wanted, I don't know what I need. I should just go." You turn to go, and they grab your arm. You gasp in pain.

"Nothing you could do would scare me away. And I'm not asking you out because I pity you, or because I expect I can fix you. I just can't stand to not be there to hold you through all your pain. I understand that now."

"I do want to go out with you. But I'm so scared." Your eyes fill with tears.

"Don't be. I've got you, ok?" They usher you to their dorm and unwrap your arms.

"Oh, sweetie. Do you have a sharp on you?" You nod, and pull it out of your pocket. They put it up for now. "I'll get rid of that later. Do you have more at home?" You nod again, and they agree to help you get rid of them in the morning. They clean the rest of your injuries and wrap them carefully. They give you some pj's and you put them on. They try not to stare at the scars on your legs.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me for that, sweetie. It just kills me knowing how long you struggled alone." They pause awkwardly.

"You ok with sharing a bed? I won't try anything." You chuckle and blush a bit.

"Would you hold me?" The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. They smiled.

"Of course, darling." They peppered pet names in so easily, and it made your heart flutter every time. You crawled into bed with Jordan, falling asleep easier than you had in years.

#self h@rm #jordan li #self injury #tw #tw sh #tw si #jordan li x reader #jordan li imagine

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chilisha19-blog · 5 months

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Just another dabble from my story. Minors fuck off please. Graphic content ahead!

The doors to the restaurant opened smoothly as they stepped in, Sarisa did a double take though, freezing in place as she tried to reconcile what she was seeing. That couldn't be right. Slowly she took a step closer, eyeing the pair. "Samantha...?" Her boss smiled. "Yes?" The other woman shook her head as though to clear it. "What the hell happened?! It's only been a month! And him!" A finger stabbed up at Jason as he watched down at her with his hands stuffed into his pockets. "Is that actually Jason?!" Sam tipped her head back to inspect him. "I sure hope so cause if not I let a complete stranger bang me out over the bathroom sink an hour ago." For a moment Sarisa could just blink at them. "What happened?!" Sam shrugged. "Ah. Growth spurt." Sarisa shook her head rapidly as Sam headed toward the kitchen where Pierre was busy flipping steaks. The much taller man glanced back for just a second before snapping his full attention to them. He was all but 7 foot tall and weighted almost 350 pounds. "What the fuck?! I know kids grow up fast but damn! What happened? It's only been a month!" She grinned way up at him. "We've decided to start using steroids." Her eyes drift toward Jason, up then down suggestively. "It's done wonders for the upstairs! The down not so much." A small disappointed frown crossed her lips making Jason's cheeks burn. He shoved her, a growl to his voice as he snapped. "I didn't hear your complaining about my down stairs over the sink this morning!" Samantha yelped as he picked her up over his head by the front of her shirt. "Put me down!" "No! You're in air jail until you apologize and tell him that isn't true!" Arms snapped over her chest. "Fine! It's not true! Now put me down!" Sea green eyes just watched up at her unimpressed, prompting. "And?" Red brows knitted. "And what?!" "And~" Jason drew. "Tell him you love my downstairs." A broad smirk turned up his lips as her face flushed such a pretty pink. Something else flicked though her gaze though, offsetting flustered indignation. He had just enough time to realize his mistake. "Shit." Pink toes freed themselves from inside her sandal. The glossy purple paint caught the lights from over head as her foot moved toward his stomach. The backs of her toes ran up his belly, lingering over abs. Jason couldn't suppress a groan as they moved up farther, circling his nipple until he hissed. "Please me out me down, daddy. I'll be a good girl now. I promise, daddy." Teal eyes widened, almost dropping her as her soft tongue came out to lick her lips. His hand did fall out from under her when she pinched his nipple with her toes. Samantha yelped as he caught her under her chest, glaring at the wall all red faced.

Samantha cackled manically at being able to gain such a reaction. "You are absolutely insufferable! I don't think you've ever been good a day in your life! You're the most vexing girl I've ever dated!" His frustration did nothing to calm Samantha's giggles. "I'm the only girl you've ever dated, Todd." "How would you know who I've dated? Maybe my phone is full of other woman and you're like 4th place." Samantha barked a laugh. "Inconceivable. No other women would have you, Todd." His brow twitched as she chewed on his last name like an insult. She had quickly learned that he hated when she used his last name. Mostly because she only called him that when she was irritated with him. "I keep telling you not to call me that. Do it again. See what happens." His warning rang as a challenge in her ears and she lifted her chin to look down her nose at him. The loop sided smirk that played up her lips alluded to her disregard of his threat even before she spoke. "Or what, Todd?~" The way his name dripped from her voice was sweet like honey yet biting like razor blades against his ears. "I don't know how you have the power to make me hate you so much while at the same time making me feel I'm in sky! You are the most mithering woman I've ever met!" Sam lifted her brows. "Do you fell asleep reading a dictionary?" Jason's eyes narrowed before Samantha found herself being dragged into the walk in cooler. The door slammed closed and she yelped as her back impacted the door. The cold bit at her skin making her arch away. In contrast ahead of her Jason was like the sun. All white hot heat. It radiated from his skin like a super nova as he grabbed both wrist in one hand. Pierre pounded on the door though. "You guys are violating health standards!!" "Don't worry! She'll pay for it!" Jason growled, white teeth flashing in the dim flicking light over head. The green of his eyes glowed in the minimal light as he leered down at her. "Sweet Christ..." Samantha breathed sharply. She wondered if this was how a rabbit felt when watching a wolf. When the hell did he stop being such a puppy? Being her puppy? It felt like just yesterday that this man was letting her run over him and get away with what ever she wanted. Clearly he'd had a change of heart since she'd been asleep. That wolf leaned forward, breath hot against her ear as he breathed out. "What's the matter, bunny? Your little wolf cub grow up and decide he wanted to be in control?" Her heart hammered in her chest, vibrating the space between them as Jason chuckled. "Silly girl. I told you not to push me." His nose brushed her cheek on the way to her other ear. "Now I'm going to show you what happens to bad girls..."

Pupils were blown to the size of olive pits as she watched his face appear when he pulled back. She barely heard him over the heavy whoosh of blood in her ears. Fingers slipped below the band of her pants, just 2 as he pulled the fabric lightly back away from her hip. Goosebumps prickled along her skin at the gentle lie. It was a lie because she knew no matter how tender his touch was right now it was only a second away from blowing up. She was proven right a half second later as he ripped the fabric harshly, jarring her hips until the material gave. Samantha yelped as her bare bottom met the freezing metal. He had ruined her panties earlier and she was too lazy to put more on. "Jason!!" Her scream lived at the junction of fury and mortification. Pierre beat on the door again. "Sam! Are you ok?!" Blood stained her cheeks a scathing red as Jason smirked down at her rumpled appearance. His eyes sharpened with mischief as fingers inched down her stomach to just above her hood. It flinched under the pads of his fingers. "Well Princess? Are you going to answer him?" "Sam!?" Mossy eyes to flicked to the side, lips parting to answer. Just as she did though Jason pinched her clit, successfully pulling a squeal from between those pretty lips. "Jason!!" Humiliation hung heavy around her like a shroud. "Samantha if you don't answer me right now I'm kicking this door down!!" A dark brow rose high on Jason's forehead. "I think he's serious, Kitten. You better tell him you're ok." The threat flashed in his eyes as she opened her mouth. Those fingers clamped down on her bud though making her stutter over the words. "I!- I'm f-ine!- Go back-Ah! Go back to work!" She finally managed, lips wobbling and tears leaking as he flicked her bean sharply with his index finger making it sting. "Good girl. See? Why's it so hard to do what I tell you?" His fingers lifted to his lips, licking them clean before descending once more. The hiss of his zipper cut through the quiet and the fat head of his cock was slapped against her dripping lips. His pre clung to her, thick and sticky as he glided forward without preparing her. Samantha flinched when it stung a bit and Jason tsk* in her ear. "What's the matter, princess? I thought you said I was small? So you should be able to take me no problem." Her legs flinched, toes curling against the discomfort. Jason chuckled as he slowly forced his way inside, slowing when the discomfort crossed into pain but never stoping until he bottomed out against her cervix.

Samantha was rendered, for the first time in her life, speechless. Her lips hung open and twitching but the words wouldn't come out. Drool rolled from the corners of her mouth down onto his clothed chest. Jason's eyes widened as he watched down at her. She was all pink trembling lips, flushed messy cheeks, and sloppy eyes. He swore he felt his heart skip several beats as she watched up at him. She looked like a shattered painted glass window. Such a thing of beauty laying in so many piece at his feet. It was almost enough to undo him right then and there. His hips snapped forward into her ripping a scream from her chest. Her ankles snapped around his hips, toes curling against his back as she bucked unsteadily against him. There was little too no rhyme or reason to their movements. Neither had the experience in matching paces as of yet leaving them both out of sync. Not that it mattered. They were so worked up humping air would have been sufficient. Jason lost himself first, hitting the back of her guts as he came hot and thick inside her. A undulating cry left her lungs empty and burning as she chased him down a half second later. Slick gushed over his cock, dripping down the front of his pants. Jason grunted loudly, breath harsh against her ear where he almost bit down. The fingers around her hip squeezed bruises into her skin but she barely noticed through the pleasure. Bodies tensed and strained against each other, sweat clinging to skin despite the frigid temperature. Samantha's chest inflated sharply with air, fingers still fisted so tightly in his hair it hurt. For a long moment they just stood there panting as they recovered. Lips fell down onto her neck, fingers turning gentle as he soothed the marks a different version of him had left. Samantha's mouth felt dry as he pecked a line of kisses up to the corner. Their eyes caught much too close to see clearly. They looked just a bit more green beside her's making her smile weakly. "There's my puppy..." A short laugh left Jason, forehead pressing to her's for a moment longer before letting her down off the wall.

Samantha pouted as she surveyed the ruined fabric that had been her pants. "You're so mean to me..." She bemoaned as she stepped out of them. They weren't doing her any good at this point anyhow. Jason pulled his shirt over his head revealing his sweat damp belly. She had just came but damn if he didn't turn her right back on. The thought was plucked from her head and he grinned like the joker making her glare at him. Self satisfaction nearly dripped from him as he tugged his shirt over her head. It fell around her much slimmer body, hanging near her knees. The collar dipped low to show off her cleavage. It left a fresh flame in Jason's stomach but he yanked the door open before he could get himself too worked up. If he stayed in here she was definitely not going to be walking out on her own. A half crooked simper twitched up her lips. "What gave you the idea I wanted to walk out?" His face flushed as she put her arms up. "Uppies, Jay." He swooped down without a second of hesitation, bringing her back up into his arms. Finally they stepped back out into the warmth of the kitchen. Thigh after their work out it almost felt too hot. Pierre abandoned the grill when he saw Samantha, quickly coming over to take her with a warning look. A half laugh left her lips, fighting the remark on the tip of her tongue. If it were Bruce she would have tucked her face and cried about how mean he was too her. But Pierre didn't know her well enough to not believe her and his size was probably enough to make him do something really stupid. She didn't particularly want to see her friend get beat down because she thought it was funny to get on her boyfriend's nerves. A napkin cleaned away her tears as the larger man glared Jason down. At nearly a foot taller than him Pierre was an intimidating man to stand toe to toe with. Had he been anyone else Samantha was sure her boyfriend wouldn't be answering back his glared challenge. It was certainly unnerving Pierre. He was used to people giving him a clear space because he made such an imposing sight. This kid, if he could even call him that now. He'd gone a 15 year old boy to what looked his early 20's. Just watched him like he was were Samantha's size. In his arms Samantha chuckled, kissing Pierre's cheek lightly. "I'm ok honest. He didn't hurt me. He's just way too damn good at finding the things that turn me on for my own good." A half glare was flicked to Jason as he smirked. Her arms stretched out and he caught her, reclaiming her back where she belonged. The gentle brush of his fingers against the bruises along her side was so sweet it could almost make her forget he put them there. "Are you hungry?" Her head nodded where she rested against his peck. The heaviness of his musk was addicting and he quickly gathered a plate. This man was going to be the death of her. Jason smirked, stabbing a bite of steak and passing it up to her. She took it from the fork, humming appreciatively. "You're the worst, Todd. Making me cry in front of Pierre then acting like an angel..." Amusement played with his lips. "You said best wrong." Fren Green eyes rolled over, pushing at his shoulder but he just offered up another bite.

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