#no joke im crying so hard i can taste blood

[endmeplease01]

just watched banana fish it was so peak!! (written while crying and shaking violently)

[dual-fantasy]

duncan is simultaneously the funniest fucking guy and super tragic to me. i think hes The Worst Ever because its a way of acting out against his dad. funniest shit ever and devastating. Everything about duncney as a whole leaves me in hysterics and also clutching my chest crying punching holes into the walls. he is killer phoebe bridgers to me. can the killer in him tame the fire in (various romantic partners he swore were the one then broke up with 2 days later). or is there nothing left to do for them. hes sick of the chase but hes hungry for blood. and theres nothing he can do. hes a dog motif in a really specific street dog way you just have to understand. in a wolf way, even. but in a rabid stranded starving way. he is the only heartbreaker as well btw. he'll be the loser in this game he'll be the bad guy in the play. eric is a duncney song but in a way you would not expect. it is the duncney duncan pov song ever actually. she can come closer he'll let her hurt him how she chooses. this view of her of the top of her head makes him forgive her. her skin cries a soft weep like his. his price how about just a part of her cause he wants. shouldve been me is THE duncney/gwuncan song ever. courtney pov. when she saw the girl looked just like her and it broke her heart the lengths he went to have her to get to have her. cause she hasnt given him what he needs. he wanted her but couldnt reach her. so he went into his memory and relived all the ways he still wants her. shes sorry it shouldve been her. thought ive had in my head for over a year. its literally Them. a loving feeling is the aleduncan 90th breakup song. theyre compatible but only behind closed doors. they mean a lot to me actually jsut like . In General duncan and duncan ships by extension are mitskipilled. mitskimaxxing, even. GRAVE DOG!!!!

frrrr you're so real but if im going to comment on Duncan I need to confess something. Ive never finished watching action. ive gotten to like ep 20 I still have literally never finished it. I know that he has a lot of moments in there but I haven't finished it for some reason. I understand you but also I'm not as insane. feel free to keep screaming about him because I completely trust your opinion . I'll probably finish action soon because you are dragging me into the duncan hellhole. I love characters who are so silly and stupid and also absolutely devastating if you think about it too hard. literally peak characters.

dog motif but in the way that he was abandoned by everyone because they weren't aware he was actually a wolf. he keeps finding new homes but he gets kicked out after a day. he's rabid and scary and he's desperate for a secure home, but he can't admit that because it goes against his nature. everything hes ever known.

I love duncney too btw. Courtney is such an interesting character to me but I cannot put it into words. I love her though. absolutely love her. she's so complicated and nuanced. Courtney is for the intellectuals (joking). same with gwuncan.

also I'm insane about aleduncan. not to be kind of basic but they're everything to me. they can only be with eachother if they're alone. insane about them

I don't have any song recommendations bc school has been fucking my ass recently. moving to an online school while being tech illiterate is actually horrible </3 but your music taste is soooo good. actually top tier. real and genuinely incredible. he's mitskimaxxing, lushpilled, puberty2mogging. grave dog you're so real always

[hotwings0203]

GOD I JUST READ UR BAKUGOU FIGHTER ONESHOT AND LAKSLAKSSKKAKAA

im in love, its soooo good😭😭😭😭 and i just wanted to ask, maybe if there is a possibility of u writing the second part w smut!👉🏼👈🏼 🥺

u r so talented!!! i love u💕💕💕

Wow fun fact: I actually love you anon

JUST FOR YOU, I SHALL INDULGE!!👆🏽

Pt.1

Tw:noncon, implied death

He was inside you.

He was grunting.

You were the mortar, he was the pestle.

“Fuck,” he pants inside your mouth. “You get turned on this much by watching dweebs like him get slaughtered out there?”

You sob and try futilely to once again lift his weight off of your pinned body, but he merely slaps your bouncing tits.

“Stay still. Don’t fucking move unless you want me to bruise your cervix. But you’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little masochist? Isn’t that why you didn’t try as hard to push your boy toy out of the rink, huh? ‘Cause a slut like you gets off on watching a man like me show everyone whose boss?”

You cry out muffled against his palm after he gives a particularly rabid thrust, making sure to grind his tip against the sides of your gooey walls.

In a moment of savage triumph, Bakugo lets his slobbery tongue lather itself all over your cheeks. He tastes the tears that collect at the sides of your mouth, he tastes the sweat that gathers on your forehead and he swears it tastes like heaven itself.

He pulls back while continuing to pound you into the mattress, and he takes a good long look at you mere inches away from your face.

You’re a mess. Your eyes are rolling to the back of their sockets while your hair is strewn across the pillows, your hands pinned behind your back in an uncomfortable twist from his meaty hands.

He looks rabid almost. His eyes are everywhere, on your red eyes, on your bouncing tits, on the connection from his body to yours.

Your mouth forms an ‘O’ against his sweaty palm, consistently kept open from your moans and pained whimpers.

It’s true that he’s good with his dick, unfortunately all that talk wasn’t just for show. He had something to prove to you, and prove he did.

Or, is currently doing.

“Answer me, slut. Did you like watching me send your little boyfriend to the hospital?”

He uncovers your mouth and permits you to take a wild gasping breath. The rhythm of his hips cease as he waits for you to gather yourself momentarily, but he doesn’t pull out. You are just a pretty cockwarmer for him right now, no need to think that you deserve any more mercy than he’s already giving you.

“‘D-didnt like it. ‘Wanna go home, lemme go, get off of me,” you sob and weakly pull your wrists out of his hold to push him, but with a mean laugh he flips you over so that your face is smushed agains the pillows and your ass is in the air.

He yanks your hair back and you shriek at the feeling of strands being ripped from your head. He pulls you back up until his mouth is right next to your ear and your spine is lined up with his chest.

“No? You didn’t like it baby?” He hisses mockingly in your ear, and roughly fondles a bruised tit.

“I didn’t like it when you were licking lips with him in front of me either, but I guess we can’t all get what we want…well maybe you can’t. I’ll take whatever the fuck I want from you though.” And with that he lets go of your head and lets you unceremoniously fall back onto the downy covers.

Bakugo grabs your hips and pull your ass back until it’s flush against his dick. He rubs the wet tip up and down your ass, and traces it down your slit, letting it press in a little further when in contact with your entrance.

He doesn’t push it in though. No, he goes lower and lower until the member in his hand parts your lips open and it brushes against your clit.

When it does, your body shudders and jerks at the sensation of his tip swirling in your juices around the little nub and prodding at the sensitive flesh. He thrusts slowly and lets the sensation build at your throbbing clit before pulling back abruptly.

You fist the sheets and try to ignore the way your legs shake. It’s humiliating, you know you can’t even shift to your side lest he props you back face down ass up like a fucking animal.

And he was treating you like one, too.

He panted like a dog when he let your juices drool and collect around his girth, and he clawed and teethed on your neck and tits as if he were some kind of mutt.

It scared you how badly he wanted you.

You feel a soft tapping against your clit and you unconsciously arch your back and mewl when the area buzzes with need.

It almost physically hurts the winding coil in your stomach to hold your hips back from chasing Bakugo’s dick as he pulls away, the fucker knowing that you wanted more no matter how terrified you were of him.

“Aww, what’s wrong kitty? No more bitchy attitude and claws? Don’t worry, I’ll soothe your other kitty pretty soon,” he snorts at his own unfunny joke.

You don’t laugh. In fact, you tremble with indignation and horror when he begins pushing back into you as if it were the only place for his cock to be.

“Fucking shit,” he hisses in pleasure as he slowly sheaths his entire length around your dripping cavern. “Maybe I’ll bring in his broken body and set him up on the chair right there-“ he pushes your head to the side so you can see the armchair he points to. You don’t really care about the stupid chair though, not really when you can feel yourself stretch painfully and ingest every vein that scrapes against your insides.

“I’ll take his broken wrists and snap ‘em back to their normal state just so I can break them again when I cuff him down. I’ll make you look at him right in his pathetic eyes when I’m balls deep inside your slutty cunt.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when he pulls out just to grab onto your hips and slam your ass against his groin again. He watches as your cheeks clap around his dick and spreads your gooey substance around his thighs and stomach.

“Baku-“

Smack

“Katsuki!”

“The fuck did I say about calling me by my name? You want me to bring him out of the morgue and light his body up too? Didnt realize you hated him that much, fuckin’ whore.”

All of a sudden you feel a heavy weight leaning forward and draping itself on your back, suffocating you with feeling filled everywhere. Your sweaty bodies mash, fluids mixing as he grabs your hair like reigns and slaps his hips against yours. The mattress shakes with the force of his thrusts and you swear you can feel him poking through your stomach when he suddenly lets out a loud groan.

He doesn’t give you any kind of indication that he’s cum, you only feel hot ropes of his seed shoot into your poor, wounded pussy. It stings with the mixture of blood that seeps out of you, the clash making an almost cute pink color coming out of your hole.

Bakugo unravels his hands from your hair and peels himself off of you, but when you try to shakily follow pursuit he leans an elbow into your spine, successfully making you squeal in pain and flop back onto the bed.

“Stay down. Teasing sluts like you don’t deserve to move off their natural habitat.” He sneers and uses a thumb to pull your asscheeks apart, inspecting his cum.

He whistles and lightly slaps one cheek, passing the view off as satisfactory.

“Please,” you rasp, opening one bleary eye to watch him pull a shirt on. “Please just tell me if you got him help.”

Katsuki smiles and lights a blunt. He takes a long drag and peers at your wrecked body.

“You didn’t hear what I said earlier?”

Your heart seizes and you slowly pull your head up from the pillow, eyes as wide as the moon.

“Who says he’s even alive?”

[reidsnose]

Window

overview: reader accidentally falls out of a window while having a late night talk with spencer (loosely based on the song: home by edward shapre and the magnetic zeros)

genre: angst? FLUFF

warning: blood, head injury, hospital visit, overdramatic reader thinks shes dying

a/n: i really really dont know if yall will like this but i do and i think its cute so please lmk what u think ab it :)

masterlist

-

-

Spencer knew it wasn't the safest thing in the world. you did too. but something about sitting on the outside window ledge together, talking and laughing, was far too tempting of an offer to pass up. and besides, it was just over 6 feet off of the ground! whats the worst that could happen?

and so you sat, shoulders smushed together so you could both fit. a blanket wrapped around you both, keeping the cool night air locked out. however, you were so close together (and so flushed) that even without the blanket you'd both still be warm.

you adored nights like this with him, thinking to yourself how you got lucky enough to call him your best friend. to anyone else, it was obvious you two were deeply yet obliviously, painfully in love. you watched as he retold a memory he had of the two of you, eyes widening and hands peeking through the blanket to gesture wildly with each sentence. though you were listening to the story, growing more and more fond of the memory now that it was being told from his perspective, you couldn't help but be distracted by him. his essence. his being. he was...intoxicating.

and then he cut to the punch line and looked to you for a reaction, watching beauty radiate from you as you threw your head back and laughed. he didn't even realize how funny it was until he saw how hard you were laughing. and then you snorted, which of course caused you to laugh more. with tears nearly coming out of your eyes, you wrapped your hands around your aching stomach, trying to control your laughter and completely forgetting that you needed your hands to keep you balanced on the window.

he took you in, a tranquility like no other filling his heart.

and then it happen.

in slow motion he watched you lose your balance, unable to catch his grasp as you fell towards the ground outside. fear coursed through his veins as he tried to calculate every possible out come. and then suddenly time was back to normal, and you were on the floor, a fresh cut on your head.

without missing a beat he jumped out after you, landing far more gracefully than you had.

you felt him lift your head into his lap, barely hearing his muffled words. you nodded when he asked if you could hear him for the fourth time. and then you felt some blood trickle down your face. and you did not do well with seeing your own blood.

that was it. you were gonna die. you never told him how you felt and you were going to die. you could even feel death pulling on your eyelids.

in reality, you had landed on your hip and your head hit a pointy rock. it felt like hell but medically you would be just fine. it looked a lot worse than it actually was, head injuries produce far more blood than other body parts.

spencer knew this as he peeled the cardigan off of his shoulders, bunching it up and applying pressure to your wound.

he picked you up bridal style, trying hard to cradle your head at the same time. he was beyond relieved at how relatively minor this was going to be. you would heal, and you would be ok. he got to his car and gently placed you in the passenger seat before running to the drivers side and taking off as fast as he possible could.

"Spencer," you rasped.

"don't talk very much right now. don't worry i'm going to get you to the hospital just stay awake for me you've probably got a concussion." he explained, looking over worriedly.

"im going to die." you told him, your brain feeling foggy from seeing your own blood.

"no you wont. i promise you wont die."

you went on telling him again and again how you would die and how the team shouldn't cry for you. and he patiently explained every time that you would be ok. and as he carried you into the ER you took one look at the cardigan that had rested against your forehead and convinced yourself 110% that you were on your death bed.

so it was now or never.

"Spencer before i die i want you to know that i love you. i always have. i just had to get it off my chest before i left this world with you still in it." you blurted as the doctors began to take you away.

he stood there, mouth agape at your confession.

"she is not going to die." one of the doctors reassured Spencer before turning on his heels and jogging to catch up with the rest of them.

it had to have been the loss of blood. or maybe a concussion fogged your thinking. or maybe he's in shock and he's hearing things. because there is no possible way that that just happened.

and so he sat in the waiting room for nearly an hour while they stitched up your head, nervously tapping his foot to match the pace of his racing thoughts.

he was thinking through every single moment the two of you had ever shared, wondering if-hoping that there was some truth to your confession, when they called out your name. he shot up faster than he ever had before, even getting a little light headed at the sudden quick stance.

he walked in to see you sitting up, drinking some apple juice that the nurses had brought you. and even then, in a hospital bed with half a dozen stitches in your forehead, you looked more beautiful than ever. he was astonished. absolutely astonished at just how radiant you were. your eyes twinkles as you smiled at him.

"so false alarm.. i didnt die." you joked, trying to hide your embarrassment, handing him a hospital issued jello.

"im so glad youre ok. you know i told you from the start we shouldnt have sat on the window," he chuckled, eyes feeling teary for a reason unknown to him.

"i know i know, you're always right." you giggled a little before wincing in pain from it.

his hand came up and lightly brushed your hair back, soothing you so much your eyes immediately fluttered closed. he had to bring it up, he had to know.

"did you mean it?" he asked.

you tried to control your heart rate while you played it dumb, "well yeah i really did think i was going to die."

"thats not what i meant."

"i know." you admitted. "yes. i meant it. i still mean it and if thats weird for you and you want to leave i completely understand-"

he cut you off by pressing his lips to your own, soft but passionate, tasting of jello.

it was a better profession of love than any speech he could try to make. because regardless of how many big words he used, it wouldn't be enough. not to mention that being around you makes his brain turn into mush, rendering it completely useless.

your heart rate monitor started going absolutely wild, beeping quickly and erratically. you both started laughing into the kiss, reluctantly pulling away. euphoria coursed through your veins, two lovesick bozos in the hospital.

you two talked for a little, buzzed from the kiss., smiling like a couple of idiots. but you were happy. sitting in the hospital with a cracked open head and you were still happy. because Spencer was there. and he makes you happy.

after talking to the doctor and a phone call with hotch, you were told to take two weeks off of work. spencer insisted that he go home early every day so he can come over and take care of you. and that was fiinnneee by you.

-

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ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

[ribosoons]

Lunch Box | Kihyun

Kihyun x Reader || Fluff

Warnings: suggestive

Summary: kihyun just basically almost adopt you and always feeding your starving ass

a/n: i dont know where this idea come from anw enjoy!

lets say you are a starving nursing student who's always at the library praying for your life to pass all your quizzes and exams for not to harm your future patients while kihyun is at peace in culinary school. you two are schoolmates, met when both of you are on 2nd year.

it was a tough time for you that time because next day was your finals and you cannot take fail that exam thay is why you were working hard to pass the exam. that night, you wwre roaming around your school dorm when you came across with the building's kitchen. it was like a shares kitchen for everyone in that building, almost no one uses that kitchen that is why it is a surprise for you to see the lights open with the sound of banging utensils. you decided to take a look because the possibility of that person in kitchen is a murderer is there and you will be able to skip the exam if you were stabbed and found dead however you saw an innocent man with his apron on, baking, with a frown on his face.

you knew it was kihyun because he is friends with the most noisy but social butterfly, minhyuk. actually they are a group of friends, seven of them actually. you never had the chance to talk to them because you were busy shaking your brain for grades.

"what are you doing here?" upon entering the kitchen premises, you asked.

on thw otherside, kihyun was shocked that anyone would come to check on him at this ungodly hour.

"what do you think people do in kitchen?" he answered sassyly because he was pissed that his breads were still on not proper consistency.

"make out?" you replied, "i do not see anyone cook here but make out. i dont see you with anyone so ill assume you are the first actually use the kitchen"

"yeah wanna make out?" he bluntedly asked which made you laugh.

"probably, but i dont usually make out with people whom i dont even know the name" he saw him stood up properly from the position of slouching in front of the oven and wiping his hands on his apron.

"kihyun" offering his hands for a shake hands. you thought it was too formal that is why you slapped your hands onto his and informed him your name.

"y/n" he called, "you wanna-" cutting his question you defensively said, "woah woah, i was just joking with the making out part. i dont expect you to actually believe it. i thought we are just joking around here" this made him laugh which to the point he was crying. embarrassed you asked what's funny.

"i was about to ask you if you can give my breads in making a taste after it came out the oven but it seems like you are enjoying the idea of me asking you to make out with me" you saw him flash a cocky smile which you just gave him an eye roll.

"ill just agree to tastw your breads because im hungry" you agreed. ever since that day, everytime you see him or kihyun sees you, he is offering you with the leftovers of his creations and to be honest you did not regret meeting him because you saved so much money for your lunch money.

"hey! y/n!" you heard yelled behind you and turning around you saw kihyun holding a lunch box running towards you.

"i will just let you feed me your weird combination if you let me draw a blood on that veiny arms of yours"

"you know y/n for a broke starving college student like you, you are a picky one. not to mention your weird obsession with my arms" he laughs throwing his arms around your shoulders to lead you to his dorm because he usually feeds you there and you chill there to review your reviewer.

"i dont have weird obsession with your arms, i just need to practice my skills on you. i eat your creations so this is a win-win situation" you defended yourself.

"i do not gain anything from you drawing my blood. i make your stomach full and you make me feel dizzy with you drawing my blood" he looks at you with his infamous confused face that you know exactly that he is being sarcastic with you.

"you can anytime poison me because i willingly eat your food, you should be thankful that i help you judge your skills. plus if you ever need a medical assistance, just call me by my name and i will be there doing what i oath to be doing" you wiggles your eyebrows at him earning him pushing you away, laughing.

arriving at his place with him you saw minhyuk and hyungwon, his roommate, deciding to talk to them, "hey minhyuk, hyungwin, what's poppin?" you asked.

"yeah just wondering when will you two date because both of you are awfully obvious and oblivious" minhyuk said earning a laugh matching with slaps from hyungwon agreeing to his friend and a look from kihyun telling him to shut up which you didn't catch. you sat on the floor leaning on the couch where hyungwon was laying on, placing your bag beside you and bringing out your ipad where you took down notes and some of your printed materials. it was a routine, to the point like you are like their roommate also minus to the part that you have your own place where you sleep.

"you know that we are friends right?" asking minhyuk earning a laugh from hyungwon. hyungwon is extra happy today.

"yeah, kihyun rarely feeds us" minhyuk spat.

"hey! dont make me the bad guy here" kihyun arrives in the living room with a pair of chopsticks for you and the luchbox he was holding earlier also a food for him.

he sat down in front of you with the table in between of the both of you. you placed down your things and start eating what he cooked.

"hmm. i like how you cooked this. i like it" you informed him. he asked about the rating and you gave him an honest opinion. he asked about your day and you told him how you end up shoving your fist inside a human in order to support your seniors. btw you are in your internship, and facing a real patients.

"ew y/n what the fuck. in front of my own meal?!" kihyun reacted all together with minhyuk and hyungwon. because of your story that made minhyuk and hyungwon leave both of you in living area because they knew you will never stop talking about the weird encounters you had in hospital.

"you asked about my day and i answered! what do you expect?" you laughs and took a bite in your meal.

another day passed, kihyun asked you of you were busy. since you were not that busy you decided to cooperate with what's on kihyun's mind. he invited you to come over his dorm to cook with him to practice since minhyuk and hyungwon were not around. you agreed because yehey free foods!

"hey im here" you announced removing your shoes placing it neatly on the side and walk directly to the kitchen where kihyun is.

"you are right on time, here wear this" he offered you an apron. you were about to get the apron from his hands but he willingly put the apron warping his arms around you to tie a nice bow at the your back. you took no mind on how your heart was beating faster when kihyun's face was so much closer on yours.

"so what's the recipe for today chef yoo" you giggling asks, "please be nice, i am used on assisting doctors not chefs" you both laughed at your sentiments.

"i will" kihyun instructed on you on what both of you will be cooking. he decided to cook a beef dish and making a servings for four since his roommates are always teasing him to cook for them (which they are just being dramatic because kihyun cooks for them all the time) and also gave a notice that they will comeback before dinner.

helping kihyun, you are giving the tools he needed giving like how you give tools to the doctors in surgery room.

"i feel like a doctor right now" kihyun giggles.

"sure, i will be your nurse then" you laughs. while he was stirring his soup, you decides to tell a tale of your most disgusting encounter in your internship which made kihyun rant.

"y/n we don't need to discuss that infront of a dish. dont you know that a dish requires love and affection?" he nagged.

"your dish needs to face reality" you laughs.

"no y/n it needs love" he emphasis the word love.

"is that why you called me here?" you jokingly teased him. laughing at your own joke, you were stunned on what kihyun answered.

"yeah, i called you here because i need the love of my life to be beside me while i cook dinner for my shithead roommates and also to feed my nursing student" he said not removing his stare on the meat he is cooking inside the pot. kihyun realises what he said he quickly turned his head around facing you.

"did i just tell out loud my thoughts?" he asked you with fear in his eyes.

"yeah, you want me to summarize? i am good at summarizing stuff from what i just heard. i might even took down some notes for me to remember because that was the sweetest shit ive ever heard from your mouth" you laughs squishing his cheeks.

you heard the pot overflow which made kihyun comeback into his senses and check the beef he is cooking.

"so you do like me just like what minhyuk and hyungwon saying?" you teased smiling right directly at him, purposely shoving your face at his for him to see your teasing smile.

"i do. so please stop teasing me, it doesn't help me at all" he said avoiding your gaze.

"good because i also like you" cupping both of this cheeks you squeezed it and kissed kihyun's pout lips.

kihyun immediately grabbed your nape placing one hands on your waist to kiss you passionately. stepping back, you are now leaning on the kitchen's countertop. he lifted you up to the countertop causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. he move his kissed from your lips to your neck now nibbling your neck.

opening your eyes, you saw minhyuk and hyungwon standing there watching both of you making out. tapping kihyun's shoulder he stopped.

"we just walked in, we are not watching you guys make out in our kitchen i swear" minhyuk defensively explained.

"is that how friends treat each other?" hyungwon asked making kihyun throw a spatula on hyungwon making them run away. after hearing the door close kihyun is not looking at your eyes, not breaking the eye contact he said, "i love you y/n. can i be your boyfriend?"

"kihyun i do not make out with someone and not date them. of course you can be my boyfriend"

[i8jisoo]

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐒 ⇉ skz with pregnant!reader 

changbin x reader | part three of dad!skz

↬ genre; fluff & angst for a lil bit woo

↬ warnings; talk of perinatal depression, cursing, n labor 

↬ notes; changbin babi 🥺  ALSO ITS CHANGBIN DAY WOOO ITS MY BABYS BDAYYYYY SO I HAD TO POST THIS |

u two had just freshly started an official, public relationship

ofc changbin was freaking out while he was chilling in the bathtub behind the curtain so u could pee on the test already

u two were looking at the line coming in, praying that there would be only o n e 😳

slowly the other line comes in, dark blue n clear alongside the other one

“holy fuck—“

“what do we do?” you asked, your voice wavering while setting the test back down

his hands cupped your face, giving u a soft kiss n hugging you

“we got this, we’re having a baby, baby!” he started to joke and yall burst out laughing while crying in the bathroom

the first few months were amazing

ur lil bump sprouted out n u two were so happy about it

changbin is just so attentive and excited about this pregnancy and his first born

u really couldn’t have been better with ur lil family that was starting to become realer with each day

u two r such bullies yall r like

“what happened? ur a softie now binnie!!”

n he’d say shit like, “well at least i don’t pee every hour on the clock!!”

he makes u cry one time n u use that against him everytime u want something bc he feels guilty >:)

cute lil things like asking the baby what they want to eat or talking to it before the bed

(changbin reads the baby goodnight moon one time and ur just so in love like wow 🥺)

he secretly talks to the baby when you sleep every night because hes waiting for when ur little bean will reply back with a kick or a hand

he is W H I P P E D for u n ur baby bump

nursery is already done at five months

he needs all of the boys to come over though to help him figure out the instructions 😳 these are co nfusi ngg

they notice how smiley n giggly he is when he talks about u two and looking at the finished crib hes just so proud

yall r so happy and content with ur baby that was an accident, but u guys are so happy this happened

but something changes within u

changbin notices your lack of interest in the pregnancy during ur sixth month

ur sleeping pattern was off n u would sleep for hours during the day and night

u were very irritable, not wanting changbin to cuddle with u or kiss u like he did everytime he came back from practice :(

u were always unhappy and always so moody, he just wanted u to be happy 🥺

he is so confused and worried ab u, some days ur not eating or some days u don’t even wake up in the mornings like u used to

sometimes— just sometimes he’d come back home to find u in the same spot, asleep

he’s so fucking scared when ur around seven months that he can’t hold it in anymore

“are—are you okay?” he questions u from the doorway, making u stop to look at him in the mirror

ur eyes were cold, setting down the towel u were drying ur hair with and leaving him by himself while heading into ur bedroom

“don’t you dare fucking walk away from me.”

ur s h oo k

he was really nice during the pregnancy everyday, super bubbly and kind so u were shocked to hear his upset tone

“i can and i will, i’ll just go sleep in another fuckin room.” u mumbled, changbin grabbing ur hands and turning u around to face him

u struggle for a bit while ur arguing with him and telling him to let go so u could go to sleep

“stop! i am your boyfriend, i am the only one who is going to care for you like this. i am the only one who is dying, seeing you like this. do you understand? we’ve been through seven months of this together, it was fine for awhile and now you’re fucking turning me away?”

hes shouting at this point, hes just so pissed after three months of not having answers and your attitudes and arguments, he cannot handle it

u start crying

hes quick to hold you, pulling u down to the bed so u don’t have to stand on ur tired feet anymore

“i don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 🥺🥺🥺

he insists u two will find out n u both will get thru this rough patch together

perinatal depression, they diagnosed u

changbin is so upset when he hears the doctors tell u

everything is making sense to him and he’s just so heartbroken he didn’t put two and two together earlier

he takes time off for the time being to make sure ur taking care of urself

hes watching u like a hawk but trying not to make it evident

the first time u ask him for a kiss, he gives u dozens

he hadn't been asked for kisses in so long he was so relieved 🥺

he’s constantly telling u how beautiful u r and talking to ur bump about how they have the best genes and their uncles

this man is a father already it seems

he is ur #1 face mask partner cause he buys the cute ones only because u deserve the cute ones that r ur favorite ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

cooking together is something that happens, not often but every once in awhile he will let u do small things

cut up some lettuce? sure! pour in the soup broth? of course u can! taste test his food? always.

he wants to make sure ur comfortable with him touching u or kissing u or what hes saying

“i love you.” he’s mumbling, quickly placing a kiss against the fabric of one of his own shirts that was worn by u and fit u like a dress still

he then goes up to ur cheek n presses a kiss to it, ur hand cupping his jaw and letting him kiss ur lips >.<

also u guys let out a quiet talk of pregnancy to the public, letting jyp release a notice on changbin’s absence from live-streams and posts with the boys

u two received a lot of positive feedback which changbin let u read the positive ones n loved when u smiled at each one

u were overdue by a week which was the worst, ur back hurt and u had migraines

u also were put on bed-rest for the next week before u could be inducted

u guys waited out the week and u got scheduled for an induction

the labor was really slow which sucked because u just wanted to hold ur baby already :(

rly intimate moments like chan just holding u n rocking u like a baby

u guys are given this position to move the baby down, your knees on the ground so u could kneel against the bed and changbin would hold ur hips n rock them

he just feels so bad he can’t do anything to help u with the pain 🥺

yall kinda vibing with the hospital food (idk bout yall but some food from hospitals smack chile)

“i just want to go home.” :(

u bet ur ass he scoots into ur hospital bed, holding ur hands n u just cry into his shoulder

he feels like his heart is being torn to pieces when he listens to u cry out of pain

his free hands holds your jaw, making u look up at him

“we’re almost done baby, okay? i know it hurts, if i could i would take your pain in a heartbeat. you are incredibly strong and i’m so proud of you. you just need to hang in here for a few more hours, yeah? you think you can do that?”

u give him the weakest smile ever but its better than nothing

u reach 10cm!!!

now the part that wasn’t fun was the pushing :/

u were hurting, u were tired, and u had been promised almost seven times that all u need was one more push but no matter what, it seemed like the baby wasnt budging

“the cord is wrapped around the neck, we need you to stop pushing. okay?”

ur too tired and stopping the pushing sounded good so u did as they said but when they told u they needed to actually reach in and unwrap it ur blood ran cold

u both were worried about how much u could take

u screamed, god it hurt and it felt like hours of them twisting but it was a mere minute

the labor progressed n there it was

“a girl!”

u two are like faucets or waterfalls

shes literally the perfect mixture of u both 🥺

he washed her hair n helped wrap her up in a blanket, giving her over to u for the first time

u both were just in love with her, she was absolutely perfect

he’s obsessed with her, taking in that baby scent, the scent of the light baby shampoo and the bit of baby powder that lingered throughout her onesie

her hair wooooww its so soft n fluffy

her little baby pout and her puffy cheeks

i can see him calling her bunny for awhile as a childhood nickname

he’ll just be like

“oh that’s my bunny!!”

weird look from u but ur heart melts while he bounces her in his arms n gives her some kissies and running his fingers thru her hair

he’s also rly soft, i don’t see him singing but i see him definitely whispering to her about how she’s gonna grow up and have the best life because thats his little girl

“ur gonna have eight uncles, they are crazy but it’s okay. u definitely lucked out on fathers though, i’m pretty good at lullaby's. u did get great genes too, u have a handsome daddy and a gorgeous mommy. we worked really hard on making u, please don’t hurt ur cute little face. u also have a storm coming, there’s a thing called stays, they are gonna adore you, i promise.”

omgomgomgomg jejejejeje im blushing at the thought of this i just adore dad changbin 

u guys may or may not be planning for another but it definitely would happen in a few years

©️ maysdiors 2020 :: all rights reserved. do not repost my work on tumblr or other platforms.

[ratsoh-writes]

I have a feeling I'm either going to get Honey or a Horrortale skele, so here we go for Matchups! -🍊

Personality

-introverted

-nervous/jumpy/sensitive

-artistic/creative

-very sleepy. I stay up till 5am and sleep till 2pm.

-helpful! I like feeling needed lol.

-sensitive. I have an abusive mother im in therapy for, so I need someone soft :(

Hobbies

-im very artistic! I love drawing, painting, listening to music, even making it, anything that keeps my hands busy and my ADHD at bay.

-minecraft! I've just downloaded the game, I've had it for a year now, and I love the building in it lol. The mobs scare me tho.

-rps!!! I LOVE roleplaying!!!! Rpg games, DnD, hell, I even have a few oc based text rps on discord I'm into. It gets me SO excited when I make up little stories with my friends, the gremblin in my enjoys shiny new universes

Dislikes

-Snarky/teasing/snappy jokes, or being teased in general. I'm a sensitive person who takes a bit too much to heart. Mal and Red scare me.

-loud noises/crowded areas. Another trama trigger for me, I feel trapped in a situation and it makes me paranoid. I'd rather sit outside and watch a thunderstorm than go to a local fair.

-being pushed out of my comfort zone and/or being forced to get in contact with family I've kicked out of my life, the whole 'well family is family!' saying means jack shit to me. I've put my demons at bay, I don't want someone to push me out of my comfort zone, or else I feel sick with nerves. I don't like traveling or being around a lot of people, I'd rather just text someone than see them face to face, words come easier then. Brain weird.

Deal breakers

-anyone who forces me to be social. I have anxiety, leave me be dammit. If someone kept pushing and complaining about it, it would make me feel guilty and blegh. Let's not go down that rabbit hole.

-cheating, I have a low image of myself, I don't need someone flirting with others or being all handy with them. Once the wound it made, I'm not letting the knife near me again.

-someone who yells a lot. Loud voices, especially male ones, make me panicked and scared. If Edge ever lectured me I would simply. Cry.

-someone violent, which is a given. Sorry mafia men, but blood scares me. I'm a wheeny.

-someone forcing me to change. I'm chonky, so being forced into a diet or something would make me think low of myself, I couldn't stay with someone like that. Or someone pushing me to get anxiety meds or giving me a bedtime. I like my independence and I'm working on myself, I don't need to be pressured to do it faster.

-passive aggressiveness, it makes me confused on what to say in an argument and that junk.

Flaws

-most of these have already been said, but I'm introverted with low energy, I don't like going to big events or traveling away from home.

-sensitive. Any jokes aimed at me can and will be obsessed over to oblivion, I'm not the teasing type.

-awkward. I was kinda isolated as a kid, so social skills are hard. Don't expect me to pop up on conversations all the time, I mostly listen to what my friends say and nod along.

-hygene. This is also something I'm working on. I've had depression episodes that sometimes still surface, sometimes it's hard to even leave my bed, let along brush my teeth, hair, etc. Some days I'm just not feeling it. I also come from a neglectful house, so I wasn't even raised with those habits. But I'm trying, and that's what I'm focusing on. Don't be like 'ewEwW yOu HaVeNt BrUsHeD yOuR TeEtH tOdAy?!' That's both hurtful and annoying, life sucks man

-god aweful at spelling, sorry rat

Attraction

-someone who's soft and caring. I never had a motherly figure, and I'm too old now for my dad to watch me like a toddler, so I want to feel the love I mostly missed out on. Not babied or anything, just loved and cared for. Hug me, please. Alternatively: aha mommy kink go brr

-cuddly/affectionate. I need to feel wanted, since I was raised in a house that I wasn't, so words of reassurance are really nice, especially if that person wants to be around me close enough to cuddle

I tried making this as neat as I could, since I tend to ramble a lot, so I hope this layout is easy to read! Tell me if I need to add any physics stuff, thank you for the matchup! -🍊

Alright, you were right on probably getting a horror lol. I think the best fit for you is……..BASIL (horrorswap papyrus)!

Here’s the tricky bit. Getting to know basil is here. He’s also extremely anxious, to the point where he’s practically non-verbal to anyone he doesn’t know. But once you do get close enough for him to crush and even confess, you’ll get to see a butch more protective and attentive side to him. Basil is a protector at his core and actually prefers a timid SO unlike honey who likes confident and organized characters.

Basil would be great at balancing between encouraging you to be your best self and not being too pushy. Gentle is basically his main personality trait. And considering who it is here, it’s hard to feel nagged with him being the one giving you those gentle reminders.

You like cuddles? You’re getting your cuddles. Basil is shy about touch so it’s up to you to initiate, but when you do, you’ll find that he’s pretty much touch starved. He likes having you in his lap the most. Basil has mild insomnia so cuddling with a SO is the best way to help him doze off

Basil hasn’t been introduced to the wonderful world of video games yet. Minecraft would be a great starter! If you manage to get him into it, he’ll wind up getting addicted to sims most likely. Or FarmVille. He likes chill games

One important thing about dating basil is that your basically going to have to go vegetarian. You can eat meat outside the house when he’s not around, but the sight and taste of raw meat is a trigger for him. Luckily he’s a wonderful cook and makes up for it in his baking and pasta ;)

I was also thinking of rust and possibly slim for you. (Yes I know slim is a mafia but he’s great at keeping his work hidden)

[jennnsartofgettingby]

the brother of house black: sirius and regulus angst

cw: mentions of abuse. again its angst read with caution

a/n: this was something i wrote months ago because i only know pain. so here share my pain. if you guys like this i have continuations written that i can post

"sirius," regulus cried in a hushed voice seizing his brother by the wrist. "just do as they ask, we both know its the only way."

sirius snapped his wrist from regulus' grip staring him down coldly

"you know better than anyone that i can no longer refrain from expressing my beliefs," he stated

regulus' lip quivered. he was terrified for his brother and what his parents would do when sirius finally pinched their last nerve

"if you do this, they will never forgive you. they will not hold back. they will treat you as if you were never their child, their heir." regulus attempting to sway his brothers mind

sirius shook his head pinching the bridge of his nose is frustration. "regulus you are the only member of this wretched house who has ever loved me, who i have ever loved."

"so then listen to me!" regulus cried stepping towards his brother

"no," sirius shot. "im sorry it has come to this but you gotta promise me something, alright?"

"fine," regulus huffed. he crossed his arms awaiting his brothers request. he was angry. he felt his heart ache. but he understood. and that was enough to continue to be a bystander to his brothers situation

"you will not interfere, no matter what they do." sirius replied at last. "you are not to throw yourself in the line of fire for me, okay?"

regulus nodded and agreed against his better judgement. "you have my word."

they stared at each other for a long moment. two brothers with two very different stories

sirius saw the pain deep within regulus' eyes. he thought he might cave. then he remembered orion and walburga. he remembered their cruel punishments and their awful beliefs. he remembered the first time he was hit with a torture curse; how he collapsed to his knees wincing in pain, a pain unlike any other he had ever felt before. so he blinked the thought of being their puppet away

he had imagined all his life what it would be like to finally confront his parents. what it would be like to run away. how freeing it would feel; how freedom would taste. how happy he would be to escape. but now as he stood minutes away from that reality it was nothing like he expected. he thought it would be easy and simple. he never imagined to have second thoughts or any sort of doubt

he had been wrong. he wished he had the courage to stay and continue to watch over regulus. he was at his own breaking point, however. if he stayed, it would kill him. he had to leave. he had to be selfish. he could only hope regulus would understand some day

regulus stared at his elder brother in complete and utter awe of his courage. never once had sirius backed down or begged for their parents mercy. he silently winced in pain whenever his parents used curses on him. i wish i had what you have, he thought. he could never be the brave man his brother had grown to be. but he could save himself. which was all sirius had ever wanted for him; to be a puppet until he could disappear into a kinder world

"come here" sirius mumbled opening his arms towards his baby brother

regulus embraced him as if it would be their last hug. if it was, he wanted to remember it. they squeezed each other tightly. almost tight enough to suffocate the other

sirius released his brother and pulled away keeping his hands on his shoulder

he gave him a stern look, "worry about saving yourself, okay? and ill worry about saving myself."

regulus nodded and watched his brother disappear shaking with fear of what was awaiting his brother in the library

while regulus waited in silence and agonizing worry sirius was making his way to his parents who resided in the library

"you called for me," sirius said stepping into the room

his parents sat on opposite ends of the ouch and stood as their eldest soon entered the room

"yes," orion said quite calmly

"come," walburga demanded waving him further into the library. "we have an important matter to discuss."

sirius nodded and took a seat in the leather chair across from the couch. its now or never, he thought to himself. he did his best to stay calm and composed. if his mother suspect the slightest suspicion from him surly she would read his mind. if that happened he stood no chance

"you are getting older, becoming a man," orion stated

"well spotted," sirius grinned. he had to keep them guessing

"quit it with the jokes young man," his mother hissed sitting up snappily

he nodded at her then turned his attention back to his father

"as you know the war is progressing quickly and this is happening sooner than we anticipated," his father explained

sirius grew warm as his nerves spiked. he thought he knew what this would be about but now he was not so sure. he felt as thought he was playing a game without knowing the rules

"i apologize, im sure you were not expecting this all so soon but," his father paused. if thee orion black was hesitating to speak, sirius knew this was far worse than anything he had anticipated

"you must take the mark at once," his father finally getting down to business

"what!" sirius blurted not intending to

"you heard your father," his mother replied sternly. "you are to take the mark as soon as possible. tomorrow morning to be exact."

sirius sank back in the chair. everything was blurry. his mind was racing, spinning actually. his heart was beating out of his chest or so he thought

this cannot be happening, i was supposed to have at least another year or so before this was asked of me

"well," his father pulling him back to the situation at hand

sirius stood up, "no"

"no?" his parents said in unison puzzled looks on both of their faces

"no," sirius repeated. "i will not"

"it was not a choice young man," his mother started

"it was a demand," his father finished

"and i said no," sirius held his ground

"i will not take the mark of a man who stands for beliefs i do not value let alone agree with. our blood does not make us any more worthy of a place in this world," sirius spat angrily

they stared at him mouths hanging open as if they were astonished by what he had said. were they really expecting anything else? sirius asked himself. they know i would never

"oh dont look so surprised. i was the black sheep of this family for the moment i came out of you. everyone knew it. i was never going to be your heir, your perfect son," he carried on

"you are no son of mine," orion stated standing up and pointing his wand at his son

"if i had any say in the matter, you would never have been my father," he turned to walburga. "and you would have never been my mother."

now walburga stood with her wand pointed at her son slowly inching closer to him

"how dare you disgrace this family. how dare you speak to us in such a way," she hissed like a snake, as her wand pressed into sirius throat so hard he thought shed draw blood

he gulped, suddenly aware he bit off more than he was able to chew at the moment. he should have kept his mouth shut and disappeared silently during the night

before he knew it both his parents had casted the cruciatus curse on him

he knew the feeling all too well. the pain coursing through him, making his knees weak, his body loosing control and unable to stop itself from causing harm

but this time he felt it could kill him. perhaps it was their anger enhancing the curse or simply the force of two curse combined, but for the first time sirius could not bit his tongue and silence his tears

he collapsed to his knees and let out a cry that rang through number twelve grimwald place. he sobbed for what felt like hours, swallowing his pride, and begging, not his parents, but something greater to finish him off

im better off dead he thought as he saw his parents laughing at their son, who finally cracked

[kaidans-alenko]

I GOT THE CHILDHOOD FRIENDS BRAIN ROT OKAY IM SORRY

"You should pick dare Azalea." One of the girls at the party taunted. 

"Oh...uh….okay…" she fidgeted uncomfortably on the leather couch "dare." 

The group of girls that usually bullied her smirked to each other and started snickering "Okay, we dare you to kiss Kaidan." 

Azalea's tan skin flushed "No...I…."

"Aw come on, don't be cruel!" One of the girls laughed.

"Yeah, what did Kaidan ever do to you?" Another kid jeered. 

Azalea hung her head, right, first a kiss and the next thing she knows they're pouring pigs blood on her at prom. She looked at the group of bullies in front of her, she wished she was like the girl in that book. The abusive mother, the cruel bullies, if she had the cool mind powers too life would be so much easier. 

She looked at Kaidan next as he was laughing with his friends, unlike her Kaidan was popular, he was shy and generally kept to himself but he was sweet and funny and handsome. It was no wonder people are drawn to him.

"Fine." Azalea said as she stood up.

"Wait?...really?" 

"Yeah, you dared me after all, don't I have to?" Azalea asked, feigning innocence.

One of the girls snorted, the one who Azalea knew liked Kaidan "Fine, go ahead." She smirked at her, crossing her arms.

Taking a deep breath she marched over to Kaidan before she lost her nerve, as far as she knew Kaidan had never kissed anybody. If he had he hadn't told her. She wasn't quite sure what this feeling was but the thought of someone else being his first kiss was...uncomfortable, to say the least.

"Kai?" Azalea said softly as she came up behind him.

"Lea." His face lit up immediately upon seeing her and she swallowed hard, Kaidan was her best friend, of all the people in the room he should be the easiest to kiss so why was she suddenly so clammy? 

Azalea looked back behind her and saw the bullies from earlier whispering to each other, about her no doubt and it would be easier to just leave and let them have their fun but she didn't want Kaidan to be left alone with them.

Azalea grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close, pressing their lips together in an awkward kiss. Not only shocking each other but everyone in the room.

They pulled away as a couple kids whistled and a few laughed. Kaidan and Azalea both equally in disbelief as the other "Lea...what was…?" 

Azalea's face felt like it was on fire and she all but pushed him away "I uh...sorry!" Turning around she ran out of the house, leaving a stunned Kaidan alone in the crowd.

"Hey man, I got some mouthwash upstairs if you want to get that taste out of your mouth." The host of the party laughed, putting him on the shoulder.

"Yeah, way to take one for the team." Another teased.

Kaidan knew they were joking, as cruel as it was but he also knew Azalea wasn't the type to do something like that. 

"I can't believe she actually did it." The group of bullies said, giggling with each other. Kaidan wasn't riled up very easily, it took a lot to make him angry, like being unnecessary mean to someone he cared deeply for. 

Kaidan grabbed his coat and followed her out of the house, hoping he'd be able to catch up with her. "Lea!" He called and she froze in the middle of the sidewalk.

"Go away!" She called back, wiping her eyes.

Kaidan frowned "Lea…." 

"I'm sorry, I know I'm the last person you probably want to kiss." She said as she attempted to calm down, she didn't want to annoy Kaidan with her crying like she did her mother. It usually only made things worse.

That was actually far from the truth, of the people in that room she's the one he wanted to kiss the most. Recently he's come to realize his feelings for her, he thought Azalea might feel the same but their age difference made things...awkward, at least for the moment. 

Kaidan took his coat and draped it over her small, shivering shoulders "I'm not mad Azalea." He said softly. 

"....you aren't?" She asked, slowly raising her head to look at him.

Kaidan shook his head "No, it was wrong of them to tease you like that, you didn't do anything wrong." 

Azalea threw herself against him and buried her face into his sweater, Kaidan looked down at her as held her. "Lea, look at me." He coaxed and it took a moment but she finally did as he asked.

Even with her tear stained cheeks and red eyes he thought she was beautiful. He brought his face close to hers and all she could barely hear anything above her heartbeat "Kaidan?" 

At the sound of her voice he lost his nerve and rested his forehead on her shoulder. "Come on, I'll walk you home." He said with a strained smile, taking her hand but she didn't budge "Lea?" 

"Can I stay with you?" She shuffled awkwardly, what great timing this was. "My mom, she's in one of her moods again."

Kaidan knew what that was code for and he couldn't bring himself to say no. "Of course, my mom was just talking about how she hasn't seen you in a while."

Azalea gave him a relieved smile "It won't be awkward?" 

Kaidan shook his head "You're my best friend, nothing will ever be awkward between us." He assured her. 

She wiped her eyes on the sleeve of the coat he'd leant her. She wasn't sure what she did to deserve a friend like him but she knew how lucky she was. Of all the people he could spend time with he chose her. 

She doubted their feelings would ever be the same for each other. She was fine with that, or she would be eventually. There were other people that deserve him more than she did but for the moment she'd enjoy what time they did have. Just the two of them.  

[darkmulti]

Hell Hole Final

incubus!Seonghwa and San x Female reader

⚠️Warnings: threesome, anal, rough sex, dacryphilia, somnophilia, sadism, degradation, choking, bondage, bdsm, overstimulation, spanking, slapping, spitting, fear kink, knife play (seonghwa goes crazy yall), oral (fem receiving), really aggressive smut, blood licking i guess, yall already know some kinky ass incubus shit, that was really requested for some reason , a little violence

THIS CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX! PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Final

One and two on masterlist 

——————————————————————————

Currently, you were waiting for San’s arrival. Sitting on the couch, flipping through the channels, patiently waiting.

Your relationship with San was at its strongest point. You were treated like a princess every single day. San now had the biggest effect on you, every time you saw him your heart melted. He turned into such a nice and caring boyfriend.

While you were in ‘awe’ of your boyfriend, the demon standing behind you wasn’t very happy.

Seonghwa, was the one who found you and brought you back. But somehow you ended up with San. How was that fair? He was supposed to be the one to treat you like a princess and give all of his love.

Jealousy takes over the heartbroken demon and without fully thinking Seonghwa snatches you from behind and takes you to his house.

As soon you arrive, he knocks you out and brings you to his little sex dungeon. Harshly taking your limbs and tying them down on each corner on the bed, making you look like an ‘X’.

Seonghwa shoves in a vibrator into your unconscious body and leaves.

———

Meanwhile, San arrives home, only to be not greeted by his precious angel.

San starts calling your name and heads upstairs thinking that you’re gonna surprise him. But to his surprise, you weren’t there. Now he thought you were playing some cruel joke.

This was not normal for you to do. You would’ve already come out and greeted San already. San starts to panic and runs around the entire house looking for you. His eyes start to fill up with tears and his non existenting heart aches at the thought of losing you.

“Angel, stop playing it isn’t funny anymore! Y/N! Seriously stop!”

San stops in his tracks.

You weren’t at home anymore.

He thinks deeply, you’re still in hell and you can’t escape, which means someone must’ve taken you. Well that ‘someone’ will regret because no one touches his angel. San will kill them, even if they’re already dead.

————

“Seonghwa please!”

Seonghwa’s tongue flicked on your clit making you cum for the 10th time. Your body lurches up and you cry out feeling your clit on fire.

“Stop acting like you don’t love it whore. Just tell me that I can fuck you better then San and I’m the only one for you. Then it will all be over.”

He said it as if it wasn’t a big deal. You couldn’t leave San, you loved him.

“Y/N Y/N Y/N. You know what I absolutely hate? When people don’t obey me. Especially if they’re dumb, little girls like you. Saying that you love another demon while I stand here and listen. How do you think this makes me feel?”

Tears left the corner of your eyes and slid down.

“I-I-I’mmm s-s-s-sor-ry”

You were violently shaking, petrified of his presence.

A sharp noise comes from Seonghwa’s hand. You focus and see it’s a knife.

“No no no don’t kill me! I'll submit!”

You pleaded.

“Silly, dumb slut. Why would you think that I will do such a thing? I love you. By the end of this you would’ve submitted to me either way, so why not have a bit of fun? Try something new, yknow?”

Seonghwa comes closer and glides the shiny and sharp, six inch blade across your cheek, down to your throat and around your breast.

You tightly shut your eyes, not wanting to see, and Seonghwa slaps you across the face.

“Open your eyes and watch. How about… I make a little cut here below your belly button.”

Seonghwa puts the slightest force on the knife and easily cuts into you, but not too deep. You scream out and start to cry uncontrollably. You beg Seonghwa to stop but he responded with

“Why should I stop? I love you screams and cries and I FUCKING love that IM causing them. This will teach you that youre MINE AND I FUCKING OWN YOU, YOU COCK SUCKING CUM FUCK!”

He shouted at you and his eyes turned red.

You didn’t mumble a word. You just laid there, helplessly, praying for a miracle to happen.

Seonghwa threw the knife against the concrete wall, hard enough the knife plunged into it.

In a breath his clothes disappear and he gets on top of you. With absolutely no mercy he pounds into your sensitive pussy and you sob even harder. Your breath hitching with every thrust. His cock going fully out and slamming back into you.

Seonghwa unleashes the beast and his black horns make its way out. He was going to fuck you until you were mentally attached to him.

He started to thrust into you at an inhuman speed. You pull on your restraints, wanting out and crying rivers. Seonghwa then spits on you and slaps your face.

“Your tears are getting you nowhere, babygirl. They’re just getting me harder.”

He growled, now roughly pulling your throat and pounding harder into you.

“I’m gonna cum!”

You yelp as tears started to roll down your eyes again. Cum spits out of your pussy around his cock, and you lose all feeling in your lower half.

He pulls out of you, and smacks your thighs, then licks off the blood from your stomach.

“Your blood taste fucking delicious.”

The cut was stinging after he licked it. You hiss out in pain, and Seonghwa immediately heals the cut.

“There, now it’s gone and I can cut you again and again.”

A sadist smile places on his face. You didn’t even try to fight anymore. You couldn’t take down Seonghwa. That would be impossible.

You begin to lose yourself in your thoughts, until you notice a distressed Seonghwa. He was backing up towards the wall and San appeared out of nowhere.

San’s eyes were red and he pushed Seonghwa against the wall and started beating the shit out of the other male.

San then grabbed him by the throat and slammed his nude body against the wall, choking him.

“WHY THE FUCK DID YOU KIDNAP MY GIRLFRIEND? WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO WITH HER?”

He yells out furiously, tightening his grip even more.

A sinister smirk laid on his face and he didn’t say a word.

San then let him go and went right to you.

“Baby are you okay? Oh look at you angel, I’m so sorry I didn’t find you earlier. Look at what he did to you.”

He rubs your cheeks looking at you with sorrowful eyes.

“SAN LOOKOUT!”

Seonghwa punches San in the face.

“Look at what she did to you little bro! You’re so soft for her. What happened to that cruel, sadist San in you huh? Are you too weak now? Because you fell in love?! We’re demons! Loves not meant for us, only sex! You’re breaking all these rules, and father will be mad at us! Look at her! She’s a dumb cunt.”

Seonghwa pushes San back, wanting to make him angry.

“Seonghwa stop!”

San growled and his eyes started to turn black.

“I’m not going to stop. This cock slut has broken us apart. Don’t you think she deserves a punishment?”

They both start walking towards you. Seonghwa’s eyes were red and San’s was pitch black.

Seonghwa gets on top of you and takes you again. In the corner of your eyes you see San trying to calm down. He looks up and you both make immediate eye contact and he walks toward you, stripping himself as well.

He kneels down gripping your throat and making you look at him.

“You like this huh? Fucking my older brother behind my back? How long have you been doing this slut?”

“Daddy no! I’ve never done it, he forced me! Please I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Seonghwa gives a quick lick on his fingers and slaps you across the face.

“She’s lying. We’re been fucking every week.”

“He’s lying San! I never did such a thing!”

Seonghwa picks up his pace and hits you gspot making you gasp up.

“Look at how good I’m making her feel. She’s shaking because of my cock San.”

Seonghwa leans down and licks your face. Afterward he opens your mouth and spits in it.

“See. She’s even swallowing my spit.”

You didn’t even swallow it. Instead you spit it back up, and try your best not to choke. A tight knot starts to form in your core and your climax hits. You quiver under seonghwa and cum once again.

San then gets up and pushes Seonghwa out of the way. He dips down and starts to eat you out.

You let out a scream of pain, and San started to suck on your clitoris and finger you. You squirm around, trying to find some pleasure, but you just couldn’t!

San stops and takes the restraints off your ankles.

“All fours now!”

You struggle to flip yourself over, because you can't feel your lower half. It was extremely sore. Seonghwa comes over and helps you out.

As soon as your ass was in front of San. He rammed into your asshole and spanks your ass.

You shiver at the sudden feeling. The hairs on your body go up and seonghwa crawls underneath you, sliding his cock into your pussy once again.

You start bawling your eyes out. You couldn’t take both of them. You struggle and pull on the ropes your hands were tied to.

Seonghwa smacks you face a couple of times and starts to kiss you lips and cheek.

The two demon cock were rubbing inside of you.

The demon below you takes the restraints off of your hands and San pulls you up. You uncontrollably start to move your hips on Seonghwas dick, riding him. San wraps his hands around you and makes you look back at him. He spits on your face and starts to lick you.

They were both so close. You felt their 9 inch dicks twitch inside you. The older demons dick, repeatedly thrusted in your gspot making you cum one last time.

The facial expression you held while cumming made both of them cum deep inside you.

“Ahhh, good girl, good girl, cum all over us.”

San whispers in your ears.

Seonghwa moves out the way and you collapse on the bed.

“I guess we can share her.”

San says bitterly.

“I’m glad we came to an agreement. Now she’s trapped in the hell hole with us.”

——————————————————————————

People seem to really like hell hole so I made a final part❣️ I originally wanted to kill Y/N for this last part but didn’t, bc I then realized she’s already sorta like.....dead. Anyways I hoped you enjoyed❣️

[ilovejaskierthebard]

Again @gods-no-longer-tread-here is here to be the best and most inspiring. How did you know I was secretly craving to write more on this lil angry bastard???

Which like...let me explain.

*deep sigh* I AM. FOREVER. MAD. About how much I love Baker!Lambert. 😂

I love Geralt. Jaskier is my soul and Eskel is the light of my life. Before this, Lambert was my fondly, disgustingly adored lil goblin baby man. I can not explain that more, if you have a lil trash baby character you know what I mean when I say I love him as much as I want to kick his ass.

((Oh gods, is this how Vesemir feels all of the time???))

But lemme tell you. I love Baker!Lambert. I do. I want to write 80 chapters of a slow burn fic where he falls in love with an equally competitive and angry baker who comes to town to learn from him. There would cakes with hand made icing that said 'Fuck You, Lambitch' in beautiful cursive. Pies that are golden and flakey from afar but up close the crimped edging would be lil dicks. There would 100% be a food fight of some sort that would eventually lead to Lambert walking around unaware that his ass has two very clear flour-hand prints.

((It would be a rom com for assholes, yall))

ANYWAYS so yes. OF COURSE there would be consequences of Lambert fucking with the thirsty town thots. I mean, for a long time i think they'd be too scared to individually pick a fight with him.

Like this man knows he is good at what he does, and he knows come monday morning you'd insult your own mother for one of his bagels. So that's one bit of leverage, but also he is very clearly 'the one down for murder' of the brothers. If you fuck with him, he will stab you. Bread knife. Icing spatula. Ovens the size of a man. The man works with a lot of tools.

So yeah, It would take a while for all the local Eskel thotters (whats the word for a gathering of thots??? A ho down?...thats the worst joke I've ever made in my life but Im keeping it in here.) To get together and realize 'oh shit' and that he has been messing with them all.

It probably starts small, just a few of them being like ): Lambert is such a meanie -but then more and more people join and they get drunk and then they want answers.

Cue to Lambert looking out his window to a fucking mob. Who just so happen to lose their collective shit all at the same time, on a day that just so happens to ACTUALLY be Eskel's birthday.

And of course you know Lambert just went balls out for this cake because he likes to show off. But also because, this is like an intimate family gathering and he deep down really wants to show them his work because he knows they'll love it.

Excuse me why I cry

So this cake. It's probably as tall as Eskel himself. Amazing flavors, idk like every layer is something crazy like white chocolate with rasberry filling or angel cake with passion fruit infused icing. It would be a heavily landscaped mountain, with sugar glass flowers and trees. Little edible goats -Eskel's whole herd with tiny party hats on- placed all around 😭😭😭

Lambert probably threw several tantrums and sold his soul to the devil to make it tbh

Which like, makes it all that worse because 1. He can not leave the cake behind to run away. 2. There is no way he can convince anyone that it isn't a cake for Eskel's birthday party. There is a lil candy made Eskel holding a baby Lil Bleater on top of fucks sake. So yeah. He needs not only sneak himself out but also the cake???

CUE CAKE HEIST

Somehow, through very dangerous and needlessly complex ways, Geralt and Jaskier help Lambert sneak out of his own bakery while also stealing the cake.

Some random high lights:

- They try and leave numerous ways. All fail. Even the weird ways. Like out Lambert's window on the second floor. The mob is there. Waiting.

-Jaskier's plan is to just have Geralt take off his shirt. The crowd is unimpressed.

-Jaskier goes feral. Calls the crowd a bunch of names/insults their whole family tree/gets into actual fist fight over someone saying they think Eskel has better abs.

-Geralt goes to help Lambert, but is constantly being hissed at because he is making the cake wobbly/not holding it right

- Jaskier + Horny Mob + ??? = Profit!!

- Actually no. It escalates to wild chase scene, a fire and three buildings being demolished. No one is hurt because they are all running around after this one feral bard

- Lambert: Aren't you worried if they catch him?

Geralt: No. I'm more worried for them. Jaskier is a biter.

Lambert: Gross. You better have all your shots, Geralt. I don't want to explain to Papa V you died getting feral bard rabies.

Geralt: *jerks the cake a lil*

Lambert: I will bake you into a fucking PIE

*Meanwhile Eskel is having a sort of off day, no one has showed up for the party yet except Vesemir and Ciri. Which like, he probably hates his birthday, hates making a big fuss but wonders what his brothers are up to, you know?

Eskel: Maybe they forgot?

Vesemir: *looking towards the town that is literally on fire* ...they'll be here soon.

Eventually, the boys show up, with the cake perfectly intact! - I mean, yeah. Geralt is missing a shirt, Jaskier is covered in blood and Lambert has a black eye but hey! Cake!

Eskel has a great birthday after all, and gives Lil Bleater a taste of his cake and tells Lambert he's proud of him -which 100% will make him cry and hug Eskel so hard that rib bones will possibly be fractured. Followed by a group hug because everyone needs and deserves them.

[honeypiehotchner]

EPISODE THREE LETS GO BABY

Another long post because it’s simpler this way

Anywho

Love that the intro is Matthew’s voice because it’s so soothing and wonderful

Hi I would just like to take this moment to say Teresa Palmer is a goddess and I am WAY too bisexual to watch this show LOOK AT HER She’s glowing I’m going to lose it

Also Matthew really out here going to the Bodleian before her so he can warn her that there are tons of creatures inside it before she goes

What a sweetie

“I can open my own door.” I’m gonna marry this fucking woman ok

He’s taking HER to HIS house Matthew are you okay dude you know what her scent does

HE HAS A PEACOCK IM LAUGHING SO HARD MATTHEW CLAIRMONT SIR WHAT IS GOING ON

He’s in love with her already

I relate more to Diana’s love of history and books than I have to any other character and it always makes me smile

SOPHIE AND NATHAN OH MY GOD

Awh Marcus giving Diana tips on how to make dinner for Matt 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay I miss the blood scene being done with Matthew taking her blood but okay

Nevermind here he comes

Ah here’s the protective bean

Oh Lord Matthew’s got wine

Was he smelling some flowers because Diana smells like spring? Shoot me in the foot

Oh damn Matthew moves fast

“Mr. Knox was just leaving.” Yeah he fucking better

Is that Matthew’s growl we keep hearing? Goddamn

“What would I taste like?” Oh god she asked it oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

ABORT MISSION HE LOOKS DANGEROUS

DIANA DONT WALK CLOSER

I have stopped breathing

SHE KISSED HIMMMMMMM

oh my GODDDDDDD

kiss back Matthew or I swear I’ll hunt you down

He’s joking

He didn’t

I’m hunting him down I’m a woman of my word

Peter Knox is trash and can go die for all I care

Sending the pictures of her parents to her in the book made me livid and in the show I’m even more furious I want to cry

Gillian can go die as well

Here comes the witch wind

END HIM DIANA

“Just breathe Diana. I’ve got you. You’re safe.” Y’all I’m fucking sobbing now

Why the fuck is he so fucking beautiful

If a man ever looks at me like that I swear to God

FINALLY!!!!!!

Final Thoughts:

I’m in love!

I’m so glad he finally kissed her back

I have to say I do prefer the book’s scenes to these, but they aren’t bad! Their love is still so pure and raw and that’s translating so well

Not to mention they’ve had me in near tears a few times too

Happy sigh. I’m loving it so far.

[orionwhispers]

Wishing It Was You; Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - hey guys... its been a while. I started this in april and finally finished it. she might be my longest yet my fave imagine ive done. im tired and lazy so sorry if there are any mistakes. PLZ let me know what you think and my ask is always open!! ily)

Tommy knows he's standing next to Grace.

He can feel the warmth radiating off her skin, can feel the pressure of his hand against the curve of her waist, can smell her expensive perfume, with it’s notes of rose water and lemon, lingering on her neck, but all he sees is you. Grace is leaning into him, her giggles sounding like twinkling diamonds as she laughs at a joke he hasn’t registered, his mind completely preoccupied with thoughts of the woman standing at the other side of the room.

He hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to ever see you again. It strikes him like a bullet in his gut, leaving him winded and gasping for air in the middle of an expansive ballroom, the gin on his tongue suddenly as hot as acid.

Have you seen him yet? The thought fills his brain like a buzzing hornets nest, the feeling is immediate and prickling at the back of his skull.

Do you know he’s here? Have you noticed him?

Most importantly though… Did you come alone?

His hand unconsciously tightens around Grace’s waist and she smiles at him, as sweet as sugar, completely unaware of the femme fatale on the opposite side of the room, capturing her husbands attention and luring him like a siren.

He bites his tongue until he can taste metal and copper. A fresh wave of guilt and shame collapse over him but he swallows it down like it’s nothing but a lump in his throat.

He loves Grace, he adores her. He isn’t doing anything wrong.

And yet, he can’t take his eyes off of you.

At first he thought he was going mad. He hadn’t believed in ghosts and spirits since he was a boy, sat in a caravan, reading tarot cards with his Mum. He became too used to death and decay in the war, too used to seeing blood and rot to believe in a chance of a second life - not when he had sinned so much in his first.

He hadn’t thought of you in so long. Hadn’t conjured up the image of you in his mind like he used to do late at night, imagining the feel of your skin against the pads of his fingertips, the smell between your shoulder blades, the weight of your ribs underneath his.

You were always at the back of his mind though. No matter how hard he pushed you away, your smile and voice would always linger at the back of his head, a beam of sunlight whenever the shovels would get too loud.

You were real though. You were back. He could tell only because of the way you captivated everyone around you, the faces of those enchanted by you were proof that you weren’t just a memory his drunken mind had created. Throwing your head back and giggling, chewing on the bottom of your painted lips, you had everyone under your spell.

He can’t take his eyes away from you. Its like he’s a puppet and you’re toying with the strings without even realising. He’s tethered to you, no matter how far apart you may be.

“Tommy?”

Grace’s syrup like voice cuts through him like a blade, and he straightens up. He’s acting like a teenager and the thought repulses him, he’s a businessman, not a child. He’s fought in the war, dealt with fearless gangsters and killed men with his bare hands, how come seeing you has rendered him breathless?

He turns to look at her, her gentle features illuminated under the chandeliers, her brow is furrowed with a mixture of mild irritation and curiosity and he lets her familiarity wash over him like the ocean. She smiles kindly at him, turning her attention back to the guests surrounding her, and Tommy feels a clench of white hot shame that whilst he is stood next to his wife, his mind is dizzied with the thoughts of another woman.

Grace is Grace.

She’s beautiful and soft and kind and warm. She was the stability he needed, the type of woman he needed to come home to, she tended to his wounds and listened to his rants and kissed his scars. She was too good for him and he knew it. She had lied and deceived him in the past, but it strengthened their love, rebuilt their trust like a fortress. He loved her, he wanted to have a family with her.

But she would never be you.

You were as familiar as the peaked cap that adorned his head, you were as much as a part of him as the gun in his holster. Your face flashed in his mind whenever he heard the last gasp of air from an enemy, it was you who appeared in his dreams and rescued him from the depths of his nightmares. It was as if you were stitched into his skin since the very first day you met when you were children.

He needs to get home, he can’t stay. Too long and you’ll sink your claws into him. Too long and everything he’s worked so goddamn hard for will start to crumble around him.

He flattens his palm against the back of his wife’s dress, ready to make hasty excuses and polite apologies and leave, nestle her into the back of his car and drive far away.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before words can slip from his tongue, he spots a smug, sparkling eyed Polly approaching, arms spread, lips curled into a smirk.

Fuck being polite. He’s Tommy fucking Shelby, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

His hands curve around Grace’s spine and she tuts in protest, ready to scold her husband for his haste, but she snaps her lips shut at his flushed expression.

“Oh Tommy! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Polly approaches, already buzzed, arms spread like a bird in flight, just waiting to engulf him. A cigarette dangles from the corner of her cherry painted lips, her eyes gleaming with a mix of alcohol and mischief.

He inwardly curses, Polly cornering him like a lioness, ready to tear him and his wife apart. She’s practically chomping at the bit, the delight of seeing your familiar face and the knowledge of what that’ll do to Tommy and Grace making her float across the floor. She’s drunk on elation and glasses of champagne, her mind too fucked to even think about the consequences.

“Oh Tom!” She repeats, cradling his face like he’s a boy again. Under any other circumstances he would be delighted to see his Aunt so happy, a sight he was rarely blessed with, but now he’s wishing for anything else. Grace’s grip tightens, he can feel her stare on the side of his skin, burning holes into his flesh. Polly feels her gaze and turns to the blonde beauty, her disdain for her nephews wife enough to drill the final holes into his coffin, sealing him shut into eternal darkness.

“It’s (Y/N)! She’s back.”

Grace stiffens beside him, arching a penciled eyebrow at her husband and opening her lips. Tommy can feel his palms moisten, an unfamiliar sensation that takes him back to being a teenager, one that only ever occurred around you.

“Who’s (Y/N), Thomas?”

————————————————————

You were the same age as Ada, reserved and soft spoken, new to Birmingham and all of its smoke and gristle coloured cobbles. She saw you one day in the school yard; sat alone on your first day, picking at the skin on your swollen lips, round doe eyes following the other children roughhousing and laughing. She was immediately drawn to you, her inquisitive mind growing protective, and it wasn’t long before she strode over to you, confident as ever, introducing herself and deciding to take you under her wing.

The two of you became fast friends, sharing jam sandwiches and apple slices under the sun, skipping along the streets and throwing stones into the cut at dusk before your parents hastily called you inside and scolded your recklessness. You barely left one another’s side, spending every night you could at each others house, giggling and gossiping under the covers, trying on your mothers makeup and making sticky pinkie promises to be best friends forever.

The years passed and you still remained attached at the hip, growing closer than ever as your limbs grew and you wandered into adolescence, facing every problem you encountered together. You were Ada’s shoulder to cry on when her mother passed, sleeping next to her in a single bed for month on end as the night terrors kept her awake. You grew closer to Ada’s family as well, especially considering the amount of time you spent there. Aunt Pol became a surrogate mother to you, chastising you and supporting you and always being there for you, sometimes with a smack on the back of the legs, like the time she caught you both smoking before you hit your teens.

You became a fond fixture in the Shelby household, slotting in like just another straggly stray at the dinner table every night. You were young, but you weren’t stupid, you had known the Shelby boys since the very first day you came back to their house and even as a child you could sense the mischievous aura surrounding them. As you grew, so did your curiosity, and it wasn’t long before you learnt of the betting shop located in the back room of Pol’s house. Ada and Polly were both protective of you, and managed to keep you out of trouble despite the spark of interest that brewed in your stomach and so that back room just became another chest to lock in the back of your mind.

They both knew that there was something different about you, and as you grew from a timid child to an inquisitive teenager your thirst became insatiable. Ada had always recognised the unpredictable nature the you harboured, you could be quiet and meek but under the surface your brain was a kaleidoscope of spontaneity. It was you who suggested late night adventures and rain splattered trips that got you both into trouble, you who dreamt of cities and lives bigger than the both of you. Ada adored that about you, your desire for change something she wasn’t used to in the dismal, grey town she grew up in but deep down she was terrified that you wouldn’t ever be satisfied.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed the impulse in you. From the very first time he saw you all those years ago he noticed the crackle of electricity under your docile exterior, bubbling under the surface like lightning that struck the sky. Of course, back then you were just a child and Tommy was far too interested in pursuing the betting shop than taking notice of his little sister’s friend, but he always kept an eye on you. The two of you had a bizarre relationship, despite the age gap between you both, you managed to find a level ground. Whilst Arthur and John would ruffle your hair and swing you over their shoulders as if you were still a toddler, Tommy would talk to you as if you were an adult, the two of you could bicker like siblings but there was a mutual respect underlying it all, you both connected by your need for more.

It came to a head when Tommy was counting money at the betting shop one evening in August. The sun was fading to the colour of a bruised peach and the air was still warm, notes stuck to his fingers and he hummed in frustration just as the large doors swung open. His head snapped up and he came face to face with a flushed Ada, her cheeks were as red as a Gala apple and tears welled in her wide eyes. Tommy immediately reached for the gun shoved in it’s holster ready to send bullets flying over his watery eyed sister, before her exasperated voice broke through the silence.

“It’s (Y/N)! She’s had a fight with her fucking dad and now she’s gone! Please, Tom, can you help me find her?”

As Tommy had the family car, he was left trawling through the country lanes surrounding the city whilst Ada and Pol searched your usual hiding spots in Small Heath. According to Ada, you had about a two hour head start from your house, and Tommy’s foot itched over the pedals at the thought. This was hardly the first time you had run away, usually it was over to Polly’s for the night after you had had enough of your family, but after a particularly bad spout with your parents last year, Ada had found you halfway to London. You were definitely a flight risk.

Tommy’s hands clenched over the steering wheel as the sky darkened, you were a beautiful teenager, walking alone through the streets at dusk; it was a recipe for disaster. Tom knew you could hold your own, but the creatures that lurked around at night were ravenous and there was no way in hell he would let them sink their claws in you.

Tommy could feel heat prick at the bottom of his spine. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that the feelings he harboured for you stemmed much more than the ‘sibling love’ he disguised them as. The attraction between the two of you had always been there, something magnetic joining you both before you could realise it. Over the years it had blossomed, despite his attempts to distinguish the fire that you brought out in him, something about you had captivated him.

All of his thoughts turned to wisps of smoke as he rounded a corner, nearly swerving into a thorn bush as he spotted you. You were walking with determination, and he couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as he watched you march forward like a solider, your small frame filled with force. Your hair was loose, draping around your shoulders like a halo, bouncing with every step you took.

He trailed behind you, edging his foot off the gas and waiting as the car slowed next to you. He knew you noticed the intrusion from the way your shoulders tensed briefly, and he allowed the car to match your pace, the two of you moving like boats on water. He knew you would be the first to speak, and allowed your words to run over him like warm milk and honey.

“Hello, Thomas. Out for a drive?”

He smiled, rolling his eyes slightly before responding. “C’mon (Y/N), time to come home.”

“No thank you.”

“It’s getting late.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

He tensed his foot against the gas, the car rumbling lowly and rolling forward. He pulled it into park right in front of you, the dark exterior blocking you from walking any further up the lane. You exhaled in frustration, the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks flushed the colour of Shepard’s delight, and he cant help but bite back the smile curling in his mouth. He patted the seat playfully and watched as you scuffed your foot into the mud like a child, coyly sucking on your tongue before clambering next to him, crossing your arms and settling into the leather.

Tommy’s hands rested on the steering wheel, he flexed his fingers for a moment before turning to face you, examining your skin under the dim light. Both of your fathers had a lot in common, alcoholic, nasty and violent, something dark like rum boiling inside of their blood, men who ruled with fear and aggression. There were no marks he could see, not like the time your arm was coated in purple thumb prints that left him seething, only calmed once you and Ada had snuck off to her room and he could control his thoughts with a cigarette. That night he pretended he couldn't see Polly watching him like a hawk.

“He didn’t hit me this time.”

Good. He would have killed him.

“Kind of wish he did though, Mum bought a new frying pan that could have come in handy.”

He let you talk, the birds and the wind the only noises disturbing the peace. You were quiet, and it was rare for you to open up like this, so he cherished the moment despite the underlying bleakness of it all.

“I know it seems childish, but it just feels easier to get away.”

He hesitated, looking down at you picking your nails in the front seat of his car. The words forming on the edge of his tongue tasting like whisky, not knowing how to comfort you without implicating himself. He tried to imagine himself as Polly or Ada, the kind of person who would know what to say.

“You have people that care about you, you don’t need to fuckin’ up and leave.”

“I know I do, but anywhere is better than Small Heath.”

He blew air through his teeth. “It ain’t so bad.”

You swivelled to face him, round eyes and raised eyebrows set on him like a sniper. “Really, Tom? You do know you’re saying all this sat in the front seat of a bloody Bugatti? Bought with dirty money might I add?”

It’s the first time he’s seen you so heated and despite the truth in your words the sight of your small face twisted in annoyance is enough to make his lips curl, only adding fuel to your fire.

“You can sit here and tell me that all you want, but you know better than anyone that there’s more out there than Birmingham. I can see it in you Tom, and if you want you can act like you don’t need anything more, then that’s fine by me! But I hope you’re alright with lying to yourself.”

He stared deep into your eyes, expression blank and solid as if your words had truly punched him in the gut. You watched him for a moment, cheeks flushing slightly and eyebrows scrunching, wondering if maybe you had over stepped the line before his eyes glimmered and he held his hands up playfully, peaked cap bouncing with every exaggerated movement.

“Alright, bloody hell. Remind me not to get in a fight with you. I can see how much our Ada has rubbed off on you.”

You let a tiny smile tug at the edge of your lips before it expanded and took over your face, tossing your head back and letting your hair fall over your shoulders as you grinned. Tommy swore he felt his heart skip a beat. He started the car as quickly as he had stalled it, feeling it purr and jut under his feet, the world righted once again now that you were sat next to him. The car rolled over a bridge, and after you crossed over onto the other side he cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak.

“If you ever feel like running away again, come and see me first, alright?”

He kept his eyes on the road, but could feel yours on the side of is neck, running softly over his flesh like fingertips.

“If I didn’t know any better, Thomas,” You spoke teasingly, using his full name just to get under his skin, “I’d think you were going soft.”

The evening sun beat down onto the two of you, and as the car lurched forward he mirrored your own smile, because maybe he was, for you.

————————————————————————-

After that long drive home it was like a switch had flipped. The two of you became closer, as if an invisible thread was tying you both together. You were allowed into the betting shop more often, counting coins and change and bickering playfully with the Blinders. Tommy took you to your first horse race under the guise of “teaching you more about the business”  you wore your finest dress and he pretended he couldn't feel his breath catch in his throat when he looked at you. His hands clung protectively around your waist as you downed a glass of strawberry wine, rolling his eyes and smiling as you laughed into him as the horses galloped and the crowds cheered. You spent evenings climbing through the window in his bedroom, sitting on the sloped roof tiles as rain pattered onto the streets below, sharing a cigarette and watching the stars peek through the smoky air, unsaid words bubbling behind both of your lips as yours knees pressed together.

The rest of the family noticed the change between the two of you, but said nothing. Even Ada couldn't help smiling to herself when she saw the glances that you shared, her kind and clever older brother was the only man she could possibly think was good enough for her best friend. Although she would never admit it, it meant he was distracted enough to not notice her leaving to spend time with a certain man named Freddie.

Tommy drove you to the beach for the first time, exploring the pier and walking barefoot across the sand. Your wide smile as you danced in the surf and talked under baying seagulls was forever cemented into his mind, he vowed silently that he would move mountains just to see you happy, the feeling unlike anything he had ever felt. He taught you how to shoot a gun, your body pulled flush against his as you squealed in delight as the bullet ricocheted off the can. Your conversations flowed like running water, able to converse and laugh about everything and anything from dusk till dawn. He was mischievous and playful and would crack jokes even on your worst days, when your father was mean and your mother was distant, he would make you feel whole again.

That’s why, on a rainy Thursday as the two of you walked side by side by canal, you pulled his face towards yours with your small hands and kissed him. He froze, with all of his previous girlfriends he had always initiated things first, but with you he had felt uncharacteristically hesitant, terrified of scaring you off and losing you. However as your parted lips met and he felt you smile into his mouth, tasting of cherry jam and stolen tobacco, he let his hands snake around your waist as if they had been carved there. The wind whistled and the rain splattered both of you, his peaked cap sheltering his ruffled hair and your face from the droplets, it was freezing but heat crackled between the two of you. You were practically half his size, resting on your tip toes to meet him fully, but in that moment he knew you had him utterly under your thumb.

The relationship the two of you shared was pure and untainted. It was all soft skin and moonlight painted faces, freckles and wide teeth and apricot coloured skies. His hand would brush against yours as he walked you home, you’d laugh into his neck at the Pictures, your words would mingle together at midnight as you sat and talked. Things couldn't have been more perfect, as sweet as the whisky tea you would drink with Ada and Polly, as merry as the laughs you shared with the brothers and as syrupy as the kisses you would have with your first love. But just like the smoke that filled the once clear sky above your heads, your life was soon to darken.

It all happened so suddenly, maybe your blissful youth had created a candy coated picture over the political dramas happening around you, but now they couldn’t be ignored. There was going to be a war. You knew from the start the brothers would be drafted, they were filled with pride for their country, they were young and fit and strong, they knew how to fight, punching and slashing with their razor blades, but you loathed the idea. You bit your tongue until it bled, knowing there was no point in arguing, but that didn't stop you staining your pillow with tears every night.

You refused to let the boys see you in such a state, and tried your best to enjoy the last few days you had until you would be separated from your family. The ache in your chest remained despite your false bravado, dinners were different, quieter, and you would often catch Polly staring at nothing, as if she could see a ghost.

Tommy took you away the night before. He drove the caravan for miles, his favourite dappled mare pulling you through fields of wildflowers as the sun followed you overhead. You parked in the woods by the river, silence falling over both of you. His hands laced through yours, thumb running over your soft skin, and you watched him, drinking in all of his beautiful features like whisky.

“Will you wait for me?”

His voice is quiet, so unlike his usual boyish, playful tone. Seeing him so vulnerable was like a bullet entering your heart. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt dance against your cheek.

“Forever.”

He intakes sharply. He plucks a daisy from the grass, toying with the tiny flower between his large palms before turning to you and pushing it behind your ear, looking at you in a way that makes your body melt like butter.

“I love you.” He watches you, gauging for your reaction, but you don’t give him any, you just look up at him with those big fucking eyes. He exhales, turning back to face the water as he continues. “Known it since we first met. Since that very first day, when we were just kids, I knew. You had a hold on me since day one. I couldn’t leave without telling you…telling you how grateful I am for you.”  

His voice softens, “How much you mean to me and because of that,” He clears his throat as if struggling to get the words out, “I’ll understand if you want to move on, find someone else or…”

You don’t let him continue, you attach your lips to his as if they were magnetic, feeling him collapse under your touch. You pull away much too soon for his liking, a smile reaching your eyes as you press your forehead against his, the light making you look angelic. “Stop talking.” You kiss him again, harder, in that teasing way you have mastered so well.

“I love you too.”  

Under the stars, as the moonlight bathes the caravan in a soft eerie glow, you pull off the straps off your sundress, watching Tommy follow you as if he’s in a trance. Calloused, firm hands meet your tender flesh as he worships you like a Goddess, unable to believe that you are human. You give yourself to him fully, and it’s unlike anything he’s felt, the connection flowing between your bodies stronger than anything, love and lust connecting as your bodies mesh. Despite his earlier sentiment, as he buries himself inside of you, he loathes the idea of another man touching you and you can feel the heat radiating from underneath his skin and pull his face to you, staring him down, telling him everything he needs to know.

You’re his, and he’s yours.

Candles flicker around you, painting your limbs the colour of the sunrise. You playfully touch his nose, and then his lips, dragging them open with your finger. Your bodies are slick with sweat, exhausted but alive, feeling as if you are the only two people in the world despite the knowledge of what lurks ahead, you just feel young and blissfully in love.

“You won’t forget about me, will you Shelby?” You tease. “Won’t find a nice French woman to take my place?”

You’re joking but he kisses you silent, eyes connecting to yours, “I’ll never be able to replace you, little one.”

——————————————————————

No one expected the war to last as long as it did, least of all you. Every day you sat by the radio, waiting and wanting desperately for news that it was over, but every day you would leave with tears filling your eyes. You busied yourself the best you could during those long, dark days. You and the girls ran the betting shop, you looked after John’s kids and Finn as if they were your own - despite your young age, the war had forced everyone to grow up.

Four years is a long time, and that’s exactly how you felt as you waited on the platform, hand in hand with Ada, waiting for your boys to come home. You felt as if you had swallowed rocks, nausea bubbling inside of you, acid in your throat. He had been home three times since it had started. Three times in four years had you been able to see his face in real life, touch his skin, tell him words that wouldn’t do justice on paper. You had seen the effects of the war distort the people around you, heard awful tales of shell shock and seen men returning home with missing limbs and broken hearts. Every day you waited for that call, that piece of paper that told you Tommy wouldn’t be returning, but blessedly it never came, and finally, he was coming home.

You’ll always remember that day he came off of the platform. The last time you had seen him had been so long ago, but even then you had noticed the grey of his skin, the pain in his eyes. He was quieter, milder, refusing to speak of the horrors he must have endured, instead focusing on light happy stories. You wondered how much he had changed since then.

He was beautiful.

He still had that boyish look, his sharp jaw and tousled hair, but he looked older, haunted. You felt your knees buckle at the mere sight of him, the way his eyes danced over the platform, looking for something, someone - you. Your eyes met and you watched them glimmer, something you had been starved of for so long that you devoured the feeling. Euphoria bit through your skin and tears pricked at your eyes. You ignored everyone else, storming through the crowd like you were the solider, racing with your arms wide open, not caring how childish you looked. He smiled in what looked like relief and laughed in exhaustion as you fell into his arms. He held you so tight that you could feel the air expel from your chest but you didn’t care, you cried hot, wet tears into his shoulder, and you felt him bury his head in your hair. He looked at you, breathing hard and opening his mouth, but before he could speak you smashed your lips onto his, melting into his touch like all those years ago.

“Welcome home, Tommy.”

——————————————————————

Weeks passed, and it was as if the darkness had seeped into his skin. You longed to tear it off of him, wished that you could swap yourself with him, carry a little bit of his pain, but you knew that was impossible. Night was when he found solace, with you wrapped up in his arms, breathing in your sweet clean scent, something he had been deprived of for far too long. If you strayed too far in the night, woke up for some tea for a sore throat or simply because your mind was restless, you would hear the gut wrenching moans and cries leave his lips and would dart up the stairs two at a time to crawl back onto him. The first time you heard it he sounded like a fox with its paw in a trap, something so inhumane that it stayed with you like an awful lullaby on loop in your brain. As you managed to wake him from his own nightmare, he pulled you impossibly close, breathing into your hair as you whispered words of comfort, feeling utterly helpless.

After the war, everyone had their own poison. Arthur started boxing, channeling his anger and frustration into fighting, Freddie started protesting, looking for change in places he found wrong, and for others like Danny Whizzbang, sometimes the war clung its teeth in too far and refused to let go.

Tommy however, became obsessed with power.

You had known about his incredible work ethic and savvy business skills since the very first day you met, but now his hunger was insatiable. He was up before the birds had started chirping, planting soft kisses on your collarbones as he left for work, and didn’t come to bed until you physically had to drag him away from his desk. You were worried, but as always he conducted himself in a manner that made it seem like he was always in control, smooth and charming, unfazed by his hectic schedule and the looks you sent him.

It came as no shock to anyone that Tommy had been leader of his unit, the kind of man that people would listen to and follow without hesitation, the kind of man that knew how to be in charge. You knew some things about what had happened in the tunnels, horrors so unimaginable that it tore your heart in two to think of him suffering, and you were just left wondering what kind of marks that would leave on a man. His high ranking earned him thanks and praise wherever he went, he was honourable and that lead more and more men to join the Blinders, wanting to be close to such a powerful man, wanting the things he could offer.

The experiences he’d suffered through had led him to become disillusioned and determined to move his family up in the world, especially you. He became increasingly overprotective, a trait you at first found endearing and then ultimately suffocating, you knew he meant you know harm, wanting to shield you from the things he had endured, but you felt like a child again. You longed for trips to the country, to walk along the beach with him, to sleep under the stars, but it was as if that part of him had been killed on the front line.

You would be a liar if you said you were unaware of the illegal activity going on in the betting shop, you had always known of the shady dealings going on behind closed doors, but they thrilled you, excited you, mainly because you always knew that Tommy was in control, he could never get hurt. Your whole life you had always wanted more, hungry for a lifestyle that never bored you, but now you were wondering if you had bitten off too much.

He was changing, morphing in front of your eyes like a creature you had read about in a storybook when you were a child. Growing up his violent tendencies were sporadic, but with both of your fathers being unpleasant men he was always tainted by his family reputation. You had helped sew razor blades into their peaked caps, had seen the fights in the school yard over petty childish things, and had wiped his knuckles clean when he beat Tim Green black and blue after he called  you and Ada vile names. Back then it was exciting, the adrenaline making you fall onto him, enthralled by this beautiful man, feeling safer with him than you had ever felt before, but now you were wondering if you should be scared.

He would rather die than hit you. He had never called you anything other than sugary sweet pet names, never once raised a hand other than to caress your cheek, never in a million years did you think he would ever hurt you, not intentionally. But it pierced your heart like a bullet, walking down the street, watching those you once called friends hide in their houses, whisper his name like it was sour milk, spit at your feet once you had left. It never bothered you what those small minded people thought of you, but knowing the awful things they thought of your Tommy, that killed you. It felt like a knife in your ribs when you leant back against him and felt the unfamiliar weight of a gun tucked into the waistband of his expensive trousers, as if it was nothing more than the cigarettes he constantly carried. It clawed at your throat like a rabid dog, when he came home at midnight, covered in blood that wasn't his, his eyes grey and pale.

You wanted to be by his side throughout everything, holding his hand and being the woman that he had turned to for everything, but it felt like you were hidden in the shadows. He didn’t want you involved, wanting to rise up on his own merit, and give you all of the rewards without seeing the carnage he was leaving behind, but that wasn’t you. You weren’t some housewife who just tended to his wounds and looked the other way when he stuffed the local officers pockets with bribes, you wanted to be his equal.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was that he didn’t trust anyone else.

Some nights you would sit staring at the moon from the windowsill of his small bedroom, reminiscing on making love under his scratchy sheets, giggling into his skin, thinking of days when you would tell him anything and everything, and he would always know what to say. You hated yourself for thinking this way, knowing that he had fought for his country, with the terrors he had lived through, of course he would be a changed man, but this seemed more than that and it tore your heart in half.

He’d slip into the room at midnight, any miseries of the day diminishing when he saw your small frame, and he’d wrap his arms around you, whispering into your hair. Any bad thoughts you had would vanish as he cradled you, reliving all the times you had in the past, feeling as if home was a person, but you would be jolt at his words. He’d tell you of all the things he would buy you one day, spun tales of all the things you deserved as if he could magic them from thin air. He spoke of a large manor, marrying you in a ceremony with a thousand roses, expensive cars and hand-cut jewels, things that were enough to make anyone salivate, but not you.

The war had forced you to put your life in perspective. Those gut wrenchingly long nights away from your lover, biting your lip raw wondering if he was suffering. Days spent feeling numb, trying to distract yourself from thoughts that plagued your head, you wanted to escape. Small Heath had suffocated you, the smoke and the ash now clung to your lungs thicker than ever, and you were desperate for a gasp of fresh air. You thought that was what Tommy wanted too, thought that the both of you would flee Birmingham, climb on to a ship, sail around countries neither of you could pronounce, kiss under hot rain and see the buildings you read about in the newspapers, but maybe not.

You would have to make sacrifices. That’s what love is, you told yourself, tying your hair up with an expensive silk hairband that Tommy had bought, that wasn’t really you. You loved him, adored him,  you were so head over heels with him that the thought of leaving made you feel nauseous. You would follow him to the end of the earth if he asked you to. This was the man you wanted to marry, the only man you could picture yourself having a life with, and you knew that he felt exactly the same. That’s what love is, you remind yourself, staring at the unfamiliar painted face in the mirror, it’s about compromise, right?

When Arthur bought the Garrison, despite Tommy’s apprehension, you took a job as his accountant and secretary, helping him keep business afloat when all he wanted was to drink his money. You fell into a comfortable routine, waking up early and working late, taking extra time on Sundays to learn how to bake, going a little further into town to buy fresh vegetables from the market, reading books that had sat on their shelf for years. You wore a smile that could melt even the toughest of hearts, but deep down you were so mind numbingly bored, it felt like you had slipped on somebody else's skin, trapped in your own ivory tower. It all became worth it though, when Tommy would come home, his skin igniting against yours, lips savouring the taste of your flesh, the only good thing in both of your days. His hips pressed against yours, scratching your nails into his back and feeling him melt under you, enthralled by you, both of you so totally in love that it radiated around the small room, you knew why you did it. Curled under his arm he would smile and laugh, tell you snippets of his day, talk about the future, and hearing his words and charming accent, the way they fell from his lips like wisps of gold, running his hands through your hair, knowing that it was for a better future for both of you, you accepted your fate.

Ada noticed it first. Of course she did, you two were practically sisters. You knew each other like the back streets of Birmingham, like the lines and curves on your hands. She watched the way your vibrancy dimmed until you could fit in with the grey coloured photographs on Polly’s coffee table, listened as your giggles and playful teasing came to a halt and you spent more and more hours alone, separated from the world. She was heartbroken, torn between shaking you and forcing you to come to your senses, willing your vivacious personality to rise to the surface, and knowing that doing so could ruin the best thing Tommy had going for him, and shatter both of you into a million pieces. The rest of the family saw it as well, your light dulling with every day that passed, but they were unsure how to help without stepping over the protective line Tom drew around you, and with business tougher than ever, there was more than enough on their own plates.

To Tommy you were the most precious thing in his life. Because of you, his youth had been damn near perfect, meeting you had changed his life and he felt that he owed you the world. After the war you had rescued him from the depths of his own murky head, your letters and the image of you in his battered brain and been the only thing keeping him alive on he frontline. Whenever he felt like he was drowning, it had always been you that had pulled him from underwater, your smile putting the air back into his lungs. You made him feel alive, made him feel like in the world of smoke and debris he could breathe, that even on his lowest and darkest days, it was you that kept him going, but even he knew that was a lot for a person to carry.

You were wilting like a flower and he despised it. You had always been so beautiful. You could light up a room just by entering it, could trap men and enamour women with nothing but a look, could take his breath away with just a smile, but you were fading away. He had felt the darkness radiating off him since he returned home from the war, and he had fought tooth and nail to stop it corrupting you, you were too perfect, too pure, to be dragged down with him. He thought that he had kept you untainted, thought that he had done what was best for you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He watched you when you weren’t looking, his eyes always finding your features no matter where you were. Whenever he was nervous or unsure he would find you and his breath would steady and his heartbeat would calm as if you were a shot of rum on his tongue. Almost a year after he had returned home did he start seeing you clearly, he had been so wrapped up in love, in coming home, in becoming the best man he could be, that he had clouded over you like fog on a winter morning. The glisten in your eyes had faded, they had dulled like a worn penny, and your collarbones and ribs began to rise from under your flesh. He tried to think of the last time he had made you laugh, a proper belly laugh like when you were kids, and he came up empty. He knew what the reason was but he refused to accept it, refused to admit that their might be cracks in your perfect relationship, because losing you just might break him.

He tried to be better for you, but he was too far gone. He could feel you slipping away from his fingertips and there was nothing he could do. You had tried to change for him and in the process you had lost part of yourself, and the war had carved a hole between both of you. It was heartbreaking and nauseating, both of you loving each other too much, but ultimately becoming different people. He refused to let you go without a fight, he knew he was being selfish and possessive but he couldn’t just let you leave, you had both been hopelessly in love since the very first day that you had met, you were soulmates. He chain-smoked you like a cigarette, took in your body like it was holy, craved your touch like it was medicinal, you were his everything. You were the reminder of the good days, looking at you and he was transported back to his youth, chasing you under apple trees, kissing until your lips were full and swollen, laughing until your ribs grew rough. You couldn’t imagine life without him, and every evening you clung onto his body, inhaling his sweat and tobacco covered skin, tracing his tattoos like they were bible verses, a million words lingering between you both. You were clinging on for dear life, knuckles glowing white as you refused to release your grip, desperate for everything to work out.

On a Friday, he let you go.

Curled up beside him, you felt otherworldly. He allowed himself moments of weakness around you, to everyone else he was the devil incarnate, but he softened whenever he touched you. He wanted these final moments to last forever, his girl wrapped up in his arms, the only bright light in his world of darkness. Tears were welling in his eyes, something so unfamiliar to him that he had to catch his breath, clear his throat before he could speak.

“I’ve not been good to you.”

Your head rose, resting on his strong chest as you peered at him, noticing how he refused to look at you.

“If I was a better man, a stronger man, I would have let you go sooner.”

“Tommy…”

“I’ve been selfish, little one. Too fucking selfish, and I see that now.”

You sat up further, already knowing his next words, your heart racing like one of his prize mares in your chest. You cling onto him, knuckles tensed as you feel him under you, willing him to look at you, but he can’t. He knows that if he sees your beautiful face, watches the tears slip down your cheeks and your lip quiver, he’ll crumble. That’ll be it, he’ll have broken, sweep you under him and try to piece you back together, but he knows this time he can’t.

You trace your fingertips over the hairs on his chest, the rhythmic motion helping to calm your rapid breathing. You feel like you’re in the firing line, on your knees, head bowed, just waiting for the final shot to blow your skull into pieces.

“I’ve never loved somebody the way I’ve loved you.” He coughs, rubbing his nose, and you’re not sure if its because it’s the tobacco in his lungs or the lump in his throat. “And know I’m realising that, what I’ve put you through, was wrong.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Tom, none of it. I’d do it all again if I could. In a heartbeat.” He knows you’re telling the truth, the honestly in your tone making his heart swell, but it doesn't make it any easier. He knows what he has to do, he has to be the bigger man, no matter how much it’ll wreck him, he has to do the best thing for you.

“I know you would, but that’s not the life you deserve.”

Silence falls across the room. Both of you bathed in smoke and ash and moonlight, memories flutter around you like torn photographs, drifting down onto the wood floor like snowflakes. The air is thick with tears that you both refuse to let slip, you had both known this time was coming since long before either had you had spoken the words. This was love. It tore you and ripped you in half, and neither of you had gone down without a fight. You loved one another so much that it had consumed you, swallowed you both whole and you wouldn’t change a thing. Despite the pain, it had been the best years of your life.

“I don’t think I know how to exist without you.” You confess, your lover such a part of you that it feels like you’re going to lose a limb, a terrible hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“You will. You know I wouldn’t let you go if it wasn’t safe for you, you know I wouldn’t…I’ve got some money for you, to find a place to stay, somewhere far away from here, OK?”

“I’m not taking your money, Tom.”

“Yes you are.You’re not leaving unless I know you’ll be alright, eh?”

“No I’m not T, seriously -”

“Always so bloody stubborn!” He laughed, pinching your outer thigh playfully, a gesture so innocent and intimate and awfully familiar that it makes you both deflate with sadness.

You refuse to let the silence engulf you. Refuse to accept that this might be the last time either of you smell one another’s skin, the last time you can take comfort in one another, refuse to accept that forever might not mean what you thought. Refuse to accept that saying goodbye felt like the right thing.

“Tom. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll rule the world one day. But promise me something, promise me you won’t lose yourself? Promise me that you won’t do anything that you can’t come back from. For me?”

He nods, burying his face in your hair.

His exasperated laugh sounds like sparkling champagne, “I almost drove myself mad thinking of what I was gonna say to you, but I couldn’t find the right words.  After everything we’ve been through though, we don’t need words do we, little one? I love you and you love me, that’s more than enough. No matter what happens, it’ll be us forever. Even if we’re apart. We don’t need words to say what we mean.”

Your lips met his, making him come alive just as you had done under the canal all those years ago.

“So let’s not talk.”

Tommy wished forever that he could burn the image of that final night behind his eyelids, see you whenever he closed his eyes. He dreamt that he tatted you on his skin, could trace your figure whenever things got too rough, that you would pull him back to shore. That final night felt like a dream, you both cried, sank into one another’s bodies, muffled one another tears with open mouthed kisses. Your beautiful gangster falling apart only for you, his darling angel clinging to just him in those final hours. Your bodies had intertwined for the last time, exhilarated with lust but exhausted from sadness, communicating through touches and kisses.

Tommy slept the best he had done for years. No dreams of shovels, no thoughts of the business racing through his skull. Instead he let himself get utterly wrapped up by you,falling into a satisfied sleep with his girl next to him. Woozy and delirious, when he first opened his eyes he forgot about everything that had happened, felt that unfamiliar emptiness in the bed beside him and thought that he’d find you nestled in an armchair drinking sweet tea, but nausea filled the pit of his stomach like acid when memories came flooding back.

It wasn’t until he saw the envelope he had filled with notes and coins for you, unopened on the desk, and your treasured photograph of the two of you from that very first beach visit, left on top, painted with a cherry red lipstick print and the words, “Goodbye, Tom. I love you.” Did he lose it. He flung the peaked cap off its hanger, let out an animalistic roar and shattered his fist through the wall, before falling to his knees and burying his head into his hands.

———————————————————————————————-

He had heard that you came back. Similar to a alley cat, you snuck in and out of the city under the cover of moonlight, only being seen by those you wanted. He had heard that when Ada fell pregnant, and she stayed locked away in Freddie’s basement flat, you were the only person she let in. Sometimes he would loiter on those back streets after work, hoping and dreaming for a glimpse of you, something to satisfy his hungry mind, but he never got so lucky. You kept in contact with the others, sending them letters and postcards, but they kept them hidden from him, and he pretended  he didn't fantasise about ripping them open and devouring your words. Polly and Ada would speak of you sometimes, but would fall silent whenever he was nearby, and he would pretend he was unbothered, despite the want of knowing where you were clawing him inside out.

He threw himself into work harder than he had ever done before. He could feel himself slipping away, and without you to ground him he felt the darkness start to consume him, but he would never blame you, you were too good, and he would have ruined you. He dreamt of you every night, thought of you in every spare moment, so it was easier to be doused in another’s blood or making a dangerous deal than to be left alone to his own devices. Wondering if you had met someone new made him feel violently ill, it was like torture thinking of another man making you happy, another man touching you, making you smile. Almost every night he paid a visit to a whore house, fucking somebody else and dreaming it was you, he knew it was unhealthy, but he couldn’t stop. You lingered in his brain constantly like the smoke that left his sullen lips.

He became used the the thought of being alone. Enamoured with the idea of being on top; controlling and dominating the streets was all he cared about. You were always at the back of his mind, wherever he looked he saw you, thought of you, it drove him crazy, but then again you always had. He was in desperate need for a distraction, some form of happiness to grasp after you had left, he knew he had to move on, but he was uncertain he would ever find it again. He had to get used to the nauseating fact that you were gone, and then, like a ball of sunshine, the new blonde barmaid smiled at him and he felt his world lighten.

But now you were back.

————————————————————

He can’t remember walking towards you.

His feet and brain were disconnected, he had become an entirely different person than the calm, collected business man he usually was, his composure crumbling the moment he saw you. The second he saw a falter in your conversation, when you excused yourself from the enamoured, sleazy men around you, practically drooling as you stood before them, did he know he had to say something to you or risk regretting it for the rest of his life.

He apologised quickly to Grace, half heartedly and rushed, something he knew he’d have to explain later, but he couldn’t stop himself. He also didn’t miss the curl of Polly’s lip at the sight of her nephew infatuated with you, reminding her of the teenager she missed dearly.

Every move of his was calculated. From business to his personal life, he refused to let himself be ruled the same as the common man, everything he did was deliberate and precise, but even he’ll admit he was tongue tied as he pushed past the rest of the people in the ballroom, eager to reach his target.

You had stepped outside. Desperate for the relief of cool air against your flesh, the comfort of the stars above you and the solace of a must needed cigarette between your lips. Tommy couldn’t help the smile on his face, 5 years of separation pouring out of him as he exhaled at the sight of you, so close that he could reach out and graze your skin with his fingers. It was intoxicating, you were intoxicating, and he hated himself for still being enchanted with a woman he couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.

Movement behind you made you turn your head, dazed and hazy from the alcohol and the smoke filling your lungs, but you felt stone cold sober as your muddled mind placed the man before you. Air left your body like a pinched ballon, your chest expanding with surprise.

He’ll admit seeing you so flustered at the sight of him did wonders for his ego. Igniting the flame inside of his stomach that proved that you still thought of him, still cared for him. But just as quickly as you lost your cool, you regained it instantly, straightening up and letting a soft smile grace your features, and he felt himself melt.

You looked so familiar, yet different.

You were more tanned, freckles across the bridge of your nose, constellations he could remember tracing when he was a teen. Your hair was longer, tousled into a style he had never seen on you, but it looked right.

He could tell your dress was expensive, embroidered and embezzled with lace and crystals, a finely crafted necklace sliding off of your collar bone, and thoughts of gifts from admiring suitors sent him into a tailspin. He loathed himself for it, but his eyes narrowed to your left ring finger, audibly exhaling when it came up empty, and he didn’t know if he should feel relieved or ashamed.

A moment of silence and shared memories flashed between you quicker than the spark of a match.   A warm familiar feeling brewed in the pit of your stomach, so gut wrenchingly nostalgic you feel as if you have been winded. Both of your senses are heightened, you can smell him, imagine the feel of his hair, despite it being almost shaved to his scalp, imagine the tattoos under his expensive suit, can practically recall your nails tracing them in a sleep induced haze. You had forgotten just how he made you feel, and the recognition makes you both halt.

He breaks the silence first; as if to prove to you his new status. He was no longer as boyish, as playful, he controlled the room, owned it, and the devil sitting on his shoulder wondered if that extended to you.

“Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hello, Tommy.”

He almost falls to pieces at the sound of his name on your sugar sweet lips, reminding him of the times before the war, the times he had locked away in his mind. You’ve turned a strong man weak, rendered him speechless and you grab the control as it slips from his fingertips.

“It’s been a long time, Tom.”

“That it has.”

“You’ve been away for quite some time.” He inhales sharply, determined to clasp the reins once again, determined to dismantle you and get a reaction, “Didn’t even see you at Freddie’s funeral, would have been nice of you to show up.”

The funeral was years ago but he still hates the fact that he hadn’t seen you that day, he was burying one of his best friends and yet you had clawed all over his mind like a virus. He even stayed after everyone had left, saying private words to his friend, and wondering if he could catch a glimpse of you, but that evening he walked home as alone as he came.

You raise a brow in challenge, your eyes glinting with a mix of disbelief and humour. “I stayed with our Ada for over a month when Freddie died, I was by her side through the thick of it. I didn’t come to the funeral out of respect, I didn’t want it to be about anything other than him.”

He swallows your words, nodding slowly. Letting the silence settle around him like smoke before he asks you his next question. “Where did you go?”

A small smile fell on your lips, and you looked up at him in a way that almost made him turn his head as it was too familiar, too painful.

“Anywhere and everywhere. Paris, Rome, Berlin. It was nice to see them rebuild after the war. I stayed in America for a year or so, Boston and New York, and then settled on the beach in California for a bit, it was beautiful.” He listens to every word that escapes your mouth, noting how happy you sound as you describe your travels, so breathless and elated as you reminisce.

“You did always love the sea.” He says gently.

“Yes,” you smile, “I do.”

“What brings you back? To a party like this?” He changes the subject, not wanting to linger in the past, fearful of what that might bring up in him.

“I’ve been in London with a friend, I owe him a favour and ended up here.”

Him. Three words that strike him in the gut and nearly make him double over. He can feel the heat rising in him, he’s married and it’s been years since he��s seen you, but the thought of you with another man makes vomit and red hot anger ascend inside of him.

“He’s just a friend, Tom.” You say slowly, offering him an olive branch, you shouldn’t have to explain yourself but you want to, because it’s just as hard for you. “He owns a distillery but he doesn’t do well at parties, so I offered to take his place.”

He laughs humourlessly, almost breathless from disbelief at the sheer incredulity of it all. “Solomons? Of fucking course.”

“You know of him?” You ask, tilting your head slightly.

“You could say that.”

“Well,” You grin, “Looks as if we have something in common.”

The knowledge that you were mere miles away, laughing with Solomon’s, head thrown back as you made time for a man that wasn’t him, drove the nail further into Tommy’s own coffin.

“So your dress? Your jewels? Presents from him?” It comes out harsher than he intended but he doesn’t care, the sight of you has made him as inebriated as a dozen shots of whisky on an empty stomach and he allows it to distort his words.

“I make my own money, Tommy.” You respond.

He steps closer, the toe of his expensive leather shoe inching towards you like a high tide.

“Do you ever think about me?” The words escape him before he has a chance to stop them, and he sees emotion pool in your eyes, and he watches a breath escape your lips.

“Everyday.”

He isn’t sure what to say, suddenly feeling 15 again, if anyone saw him now they would be in utter  disbelief that he was the same ruthless gangster they knew. He is within reach now, you could extend your fingers and feel him under you like you had once done a million times before, you wonder just how different his lush suit would feel compared to the ones he had run around in when he was a teen. His eyes scour your face, drinking you in like water, comparing your face to the last time he had seen you. Neither of you let your eyes meet one another, darting away like rivals, and yours slip over his head back into the crowd.

“Is that your wife?”

His head snaps up as if he has been doused in ice water, and he follows your gaze across the floor. He sees Grace, surrounded by other women, but her eyes trained on the two of you. He knows later he’ll have a conversation he isn’t ready for, knows he’ll have to explain feelings he’s kept hidden for years, but he turns on his heel, away from his wife and towards you.

“Yes.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She’s not you.”

Silence. He loathes himself for his words but hates himself even more that he doesn’t regret them.

“Good. You deserve someone better.”

Your eyes finally meet.

His are stoic and unwavering, lacking the spark you loved but still the same ocean eyes you loved to drown in. Yours are filled with emotion, finally exposing yourself after so many years, you soften him to the touch as your eyes meet his, melting him like an icicle.

“I know what you’re thinking, Tom.”

“You always have.”

You smile softly. “I almost came back you know.”

His ears prick up like a bloodhound, his heart bursting under his flesh.

“I heard rumours. People would whisper in the street about a devil, I knew exactly who they meant before they even spoke your name aloud.”

He inhales sharply, not knowing where the story will take him, desperate to regain control but ultimately knowing he’ll always be trailing after you.

“They said you were cunning and brilliant but they also said you were ruthless and cold blooded. They said you were a man on a mission, a man destined to get to the top, they told me they were scared of you. Terrified.”

He steps closer.

“I begged Ada to tell me everything, managed to get her drunk from expensive liquors, you know the ones she loves? The ones that taste like the sweets we would nick after school?”

He nods, the memory distant but familiar. The taste of sugar on your lips, teeth clashing together, giggles that sounded like bells.

“She told me the darkness came back, took you away. She said she was worried for you, she told me she didn’t want to lose her brother, not again. I was going to come back, but I was a coward.” Your voice falters, and he wants nothing more than to cradle you in his arms but he knows he can’t and instead watches the rise and fall of your chest. “I was worried that if I came back you would get worse, I’m not good for you Tom. You know that.”

“You’ve always been good for me.”

“You say that cause you love me,” You tease, “But we’re not kids anymore, Tommy.”

He looks at you, older now, taller. He can remember the colour of your hair from the sun, the grass that stained your knees, the way you felt under him. He can remember everything. If you aren’t good for each other, why is he still under your spell?

He can see the way your face contorts, passion evident on your features.“She told me you met a woman, fell in love and got married. I was mad with jealousy at first, like a bloody woman possessed.”

He hates the way your admission makes him feel smug.

“But Ada, she told me she was good for you. She told me how she makes the shovels stop Tom, she makes you a better man. I knew in that moment that you deserved her, and she deserved you. You deserve to be happy, because you’re a good man, Tom.”

You walk towards him, luring him to you like a ship to the shore. He responds immediately, so close that he can feel the warmth of your body, smell the wildflowers that linger on your neck.

“I asked for a sign that night,” you say softly, “a sign that you would be alright.”

“A sign?” He asks almost playfully, just enough teasing in his tone to remind both of you that maybe he isn’t too far gone.

“Yes, a sign, and I got one.”

You tear your eyes from him, down to your diamond encrusted purse in your hands. You open the clasp, and rummage around, slipping out a piece of paper no bigger than your palm. You rest it against your fingertips before holding it out to him, and he slowly takes it, not missing the sparks he feels as your hands touch.

He turns it over, and let’s out a genuine laugh, one that shocks you both.

It’s a newspaper clipping, from one year ago, the black and white print almost seeming harsh under the light of the moon. He traces the picture with the pads of his fingers, smiling more this evening than he can ever remember.

He clears his throat and reads softly, “Tommy Shelby’s mare “Little One” comes first place at national derby.”

Your eyes connect once again, the corners of your mouth upturned. “Little One.” You repeat, “She was my sign.”

He nods, looking down at the picture of the thoroughbred he loved dearly. “She’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen, but she’s stubborn as all hell, can be aggressive too.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“Oh, that she is.”

You tentatively place one hand onto his chest, as if you are taming a wild animal. He responds to your touch like he’s been craving it his entire life.

“I should go, Tom.”

He doesn’t know what to say, or do, something so rare for a man always one step ahead. All he can think of is to cling to you like a child, wanting to savour the moment for as long as he can.

“I don’t want to lose you, not again.” He admits, his tough facade shattering like glass.

“You let me go once before Tom, you can do it again.”

He holds you against his chest, not bothering to wonder who can see him in such a fragile state. A lifetime of memories flutters between you like pages of a book. Everything unwinding in your mind, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. You feel like a teenager again, can smell him beside you, feeling as if you are curled up back in his single bed, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re going to go back to your wife, Tom. Your beautiful, kind wife. The wife who is good for you, and you’re going to go and be happy.”

He thinks of it all, the money and the mansion. The power, the gold and jewels and paintings that lather every wall in his house, he thinks of everything he has, and wonders how any of it compares to you.

You place one palm against the side of his cheek, pulling him into you and you shake your head as if you can read his mind. You plant a soft kiss against his skin, it scorches into him like a branding, like rubbing salt on a fresh wound. He exhales shakily, watching as you step away from him, forever beautiful and young and enchanting, slipping back into the teenager he chased around sunflower fields and danced with under the stars. Back then his hands were freckled and tanned, now they are covered in blood.

“Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Goodbye, Little One.”

He swears he only turns away for a second, to locate Grace, to try and think of any explanation for his erratic behaviour this evening, to not let you see the emotion flooding over his face like a tsunami, and when he turns back around, maybe to stop you, or maybe to get one final look before you go, you’re already gone.

[solynaceawrites]

SMEARED LIPSTICK

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lirael Thorne (OC) Rating: Explicit A/N: The one-shot is set sometime during my upcoming fic, Memory of the Waters, and features my OC, Lirael Thorne, who some of you might recognize from the AU story Promise Me Forever. @lickitysplitfic​ and I were talking about how she tries to get under Dante's skin and knows that he's got a thing for messy blowjobs featuring smeared lipstick, and this one-shot was born. It's 6k words of pure smut with just enough plot to justify it, and we hope you have as much fun reading it as we did writing it!

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Lir knows exactly what she's doing when she takes a photograph of herself with artfully smeared lipstick and sends it to Dante.

Two weeks ago, and at Nico's urging, she'd bought her second ever tube of lipstick, a dark, sinful red named Lust, and she'd worn it while going to help Dante at his branch of the Devil May Cry. He'd gotten a strange look on his face when he'd seen her, and it hadn't taken much prodding on her part for him to say that he really, really wanted her to give him a blowjob while wearing it because the idea of making a mess of her mouth was incredibly hot.

Of course, she hadn't agreed right away. While Dante is, perhaps, the most considerate lover she's had in terms of her always having the reins, so to speak, she'd never seen him that desperate, and aren't all good things worth waiting for? So, she'd continued to wear the lipstick around him, and sent him selfies of her wearing it and not much else, and, given the fact that she hasn't really seen him in a week due to the sudden influx of jobs on both ends, she knows that what she's done is just adding fuel to the fire.

Doesn't stop her from grinning as she carefully wipes the smudge away and reapplies, though.

Behind her, Nero taps his foot impatiently. "You ready or what?"

"You driving?" she asks, stowing the tube in her shoulder bag.

"Yeah. Let's go."

They head to the job site with little conversation. The portals around Fortuna had been getting little rips despite having been sealed four years ago, probably someone messing around with some unaccounted-for Order stuff. That's why Lir had been sticking around the city and helping Nero out rather than working with Dante: until they figured out why the rips kept happening, it was way safer.

Her phone buzzes and she swipes the screen, adjusting the brightness now that the sun had gone down. Lir snorts when she reads: Where are u?

Working, she replies.

A moment later: Are you coming here tonight?

No, don't know when we'll be done. Fortuna’s still crazy.

Lir smiles to herself knowing why he is asking. Truthfully, she's itching to get her hands on him too, it being days since she got her fill of Dante. What had started out as a bit of fun had turned into a full addiction, but one she didn't mind too much.

I need to see u babe!

"What are you laughing at?" Nero asks from the driver's seat.

"Dante's whining about the workload," she replies, and he snorts and drapes an arm out of the open window.

"Tell 'im he shouldn't have let a bunch of wackos open gates, then," he says, but there's no real bite to his tone. "Speaking of, can you ask him if he's plannin' on comin' out anytime soon? I wanted to ask him about this new demon we've been seeing."

"Sure." Unlocking her phone, she types: Nero wants to see you about a demon. After a moment's debate, she adds: Do you think it'll dye your skin if I go down on you?

His response is immediate. Don't care, that mouth is going around my cock.

"He said he'll swing by when he can."

Nero nods, then jerks his chin towards the radio. "See if that thing's workin', will ya? I want some music before we kill these fuckers."

She sends off a kiss emoji before stashing her phone, deciding if he answers she should leave him on read. Lir is glad they are headed for a fight, because her heart is racing now at his last text, and she is definitely going to need to work out some of this adrenaline.

The demons are easy enough, not powerful at all but so many that it keeps them busy enough. Nero gets more kills than she does, which kind of bothers Lir, even though she was busy finding the tear and sealing it up. Her knack for opening doors that was unlocked during the Order incident has extended to closing things up as well, so once she figures out where they are slipping in it's easy work.

Once the demons are gone and the hole plugged up, they are sweaty and dirty and trudge back to the van. It's coming up on 11 already, and as Lir flips down the visor to look at her smudged hair and the smeared red on her lips, Nero asks, "Want to get a drink?"

"No, I want a shower," she sighs. "Drop me home?"

"Sure." They pass the rest of the ride in their usual post-fight silence, which is comfortable and much needed for the both of them. It's not until the van is idling outside of the garage she shares with Nico that he says, "Kyrie's making meatloaf tomorrow and wants you to come."

"Tell her if she puts that special sauce of hers in, I'll eat the whole thing."

"Not if I eat it first," he fires back.

With a grin, she leans over to punch him lightly on the shoulder. "See ya tomorrow, loverboy. Give Kyrie some kisses from me."

He waves her off, though he's smiling too, and she climbs the steps to the second floor, fumbling for her keys. To her surprise, the door is open a crack; with a frown, she carefully draws her revolver from it's holster and clicks the safety off, gently nudging the door open with her shoulder. The sight of Dante sitting at her small kitchen table is almost comical since he's so damn large next to it, but the humor dies when she catches sight of the positively ravenous expression he's wearing.

"Good way to get yourself shot," she greets as she flicks on the light and leans White Queen next to the door. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Came to see you." He nods to the revolver in her hand. "You had any trouble?"

"Nope." Lir slips the gun into its spot before unhooking the holster and hanging it up.

"Good. Where's Nico?"

Lir chuckles to herself. "She's gone until Thursday. Went to see a vendor about some material."

"Good." There is movement behind her, and when Lir whips around Dante is right there. She sucks in a breath as he crowds her, stepping forward until she steps back and presses on the door. "You ready?"

"Ready for what?" she asks innocently, smiling up at him.

"For me to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours."

She blinks, then stifles a chuckle. "Sorry to disappoint, but you're gonna have to wait. I'm sweaty and covered in demon blood, so I'm gonna shower. You can sit on your hands if you're worried about keeping them to yourself."

"Nope." He leans down, one arm braced on the wall beside her head while he cups her chin with the other hand. "You can shower after. You know I can't stand being teased."

Lir grins and gives him a little shove, not at all surprised when he doesn't move an inch. "Poor thing. Leftie not cutting it for you anymore?"

"Leftie and rightie have retired," he murmurs. This is his thing: flirting, jokes, a sweet bit of self-deprecation . . . but tonight it's different. It's like there's no humor in his tone, and when Lir swallows, his eyes go to her throat.

"Like I said, I need to shower," she replies, her mouth dry.

"Ain't got nothing to do with your mouth, babe." His thumb smooths over her bottom lip, dragging hard across her flesh. Then he holds up his hand and glances at the light red streak on the pad of his thumb. "You still got that lipstick?"

She nods, fishing the tube out of her pocket, and he studies it for a second, his lips curling up in something that's not quite a smile. "Put it on."

Without hesitation, she pops the top off and runs the cream over her lips, rubbing them together to make sure it's applied as evenly as it can be without using a mirror, and then she closes it and deposits it back in her pocket. "You're a fiend," she tells him, only partially teasing.

Dante doesn't reply to that. Nor does he step back. His hands settle firmly on her shoulders, and Lir lets him guide her to her knees, her heart thrumming in her chest at this new display of dominance from him. Can't handle being teased, sure, but that usually ends with him beneath her, growling her name as she rides him. It's never caused this sort of reaction, and she'd rub her thighs together if she weren't kneeling with them apart, because there's an ache that's quicker and fiercer than the ones she's had before.

She runs her hands up his thighs, looking up as he unbuckles his belt. "I haven't stopped thinking about you," he growls as he yanks his jeans open.

Lir smiles and scratches the denim. "Must have been hard."

Dante laughs as he pulls out his cock. It is fully erect, and he pumps his hand a few times as he adjusts the waistband around his hips. "It's hard alright."

He aims the length towards her, and Lir opens her mouth and runs her tongue over her lips. Then she carefully licks the tip, playing with it gently, softly pressing kisses to the head. She slurps a bit around the opening, playing up her lips around his flesh, her eyes steady on his. He tastes like sex, plain and simple, and her body clenches when he rubs his thumb to the tip and reveals that it is already dripping.

Dante winds a chunk of her hair around his fist, using the strands to pull her forward, his cock sliding slowly over her tongue until it nudges the back of her throat. There's already a strain from his girth, and having his eyes focused on her mouth makes her feel a bit awkward, and the tug on her roots is just shy of painful, but all of that is worth it when he rumbles deep in his chest before drawing back. The first few passes are almost gentle, and she appreciates the fact that he's trying to let her adjust. After his behavior, though, the sweetness is almost a letdown, so she reaches behind him and digs her fingers into his backside through his jeans.

Dante huffs a laugh as he cups both sides of her face, his fingers curling under her chin. Then he begins to move in earnest, fucking into her mouth, the sharp jerks of his hips giving her just enough time to draw in short breaths. It's hot as hell, and already she can feel arousal slipping from her to soak her underwear.

He fills her mouth until it almost chokes her, the head pressing into her throat. Lir swallows around him, taking a deep breath as best as she can, tears pricking at her eyes. "Feels so good," Dante groans, his thrusts shallow enough to keep him buried.

This isn't what she normally likes; Lir likes to be on top, in control, but Dante is still somehow as gentle as he is demanding, and it makes her want to please him all the more. She had started out wanting to drive him wild enough to fuck her, but now she only wants to make him come. Lir closes her eyes and sucks his length repeatedly, shivering when he lets go another deep groan.

She drops her hands to brace them on his thighs, trying to ground herself in the solid feel of the muscles beneath his jeans. The sensation of his thumb swiping a line of spit and fluid from her chin makes her moan, the sound muffled to a whine around his flesh, and he curses as he pauses with his cock buried in her throat. "Should've put you on my face," he groans. "Nearly forgot how good it feels when ya do that."

Lir's breath stutters, and she tries to pull back to speak, but the hand in her hair tenses. "Nuh uh, babe. You gonna finish what you started."

Her eyes flash when they meet his, and she moves on her own, her head bobbing up and down with renewed effort. Lir adds a hand, grabbing the base and moving with her mouth, twisting a bit as she works him. 

Needing a quick rest, she slowly pulls her mouth off. Dante frowns, but she smiles at him flirtatiously, dragging her tongue along the underside. "You have something on your cock," she says; Lir tries to sound sexy, but her voice is as raw as her throat.

Dante grins. He tugs her hand away and grabs his length, stroking himself quickly. The other hand in her hair tilts her head back, and he presses the head to her lips. "Open up," he says, his tone a clear order. "I want to give you something."

She parts her lips obediently, and the warm rush of his seed coating her tongue has her insides clenching deliciously, as does the guttural moan that tears from him. Lir does her best to swallow every drop, but with her mouth open and how much of it there is, some of it spills over her chin, dripping along her throat. His knuckles brush her face as he milks his cock; by the time he's done, she's certain of two things: one, she probably looks utterly debauched.

Two, if he doesn't fuck her soon, she's gonna wind up begging for it.

Dante strokes her face with one hand, continuing to pump his cock with the other and, while he's moving leisurely, she's startled by the fact that he's still hard. They've gone more than one round before, but there's also been a bit of rest period between, and her mouth waters as he pulls her to her feet. "That's one," he says, his eyes alight with a dark mirth. "Now, when I'm all riled up, I've usually got about six shots in the chamber, so to speak, and I think you've earned some payback for winding me up like this."

He gathers some of his come from her chin, pressing his fingers between her lips until she sucks them clean. "So, what we're gonna do is get in the shower, and I'm gonna fuck you there. Then I'm gonna eat your cunt until you forget everything but my name before fuckin' you until you can't walk straight."

His words are crude and his voice is rough, and Lir can't stand the effect he has on her. Her mouth hangs open as he tugs her to stand, but before she can move to obey he presses her back against the door and kisses her. She grabs his shirt but he pulls her hands away, trapping her wrists over her head against the wood with one hand; the other drags down her front, massaging one breast, then the other, as his tongue fills her mouth.

Lir's jaw is aching still from taking his cock, but she responds when he tilts his head to force the kiss deeper. Their lips slide together as she whimpers, completely under his spell. Where was her sweet, funny Dante? He really is a demon tonight, she thinks, and when he finally lets her go she is panting and looking at him in a daze.

Dante smirks at her, and she sees the lipstick now smeared around his own mouth. She licks her lips, making his eyes narrow. He jerks his chin towards the bathroom, and Lir leads the way, feeling his presence behind her like a great cat on the prowl.

The click of the latch as he closes the door behind them has her swallowing thickly, and she doesn't have to turn to see the way he's watching her; she can feel it, as absurd as that is, as heavy on her skin as his hands had been moments ago. She leans into the stall to turn on the water, setting it scalding like she prefers, then begins to undress, keeping her back to him. There's a low, satisfied hum from Dante when she pulls her shirt over her head, before she hears rustling that means he's taking his own clothes off.

He comes up behind her, his chest pressed to her back as he herds her into the shower, and she's barely got time to say anything before he has her pinned to the wall, the cool tile sending goosebumps up her arms. "I want to actually bathe," she complains, and he laughs as he kisses just below her ear.

"Don't worry, I'll get ya nice and clean," he teases.

Lir bites her lip, loving and hating how much he's affecting her now, and the faint pop of a bottle being opened nearly makes her jump. The scent of her body wash fills the air as his soapy hands land on her shoulders, massaging the knots out. She relaxes with a moan, and he answers with a chuckle as he shifts to cup her breasts, his palms and fingers slippery and wonderful.

"You always feel so good," he murmurs. She feels his cock nudging her backside, the soap that streams down her body now making it slick as he grinds against her. Lir presses her palms flat on the tile to keep herself steady, her eyes closing as his cock pushes against her seam as his hand drags through the hair on her pubis.

Lir gasps when his touch presses to her hood. Her body is soaked in more ways than one and the glide of his fingertips against the sensitive bud as her legs shaking. "Yeah," he groans, thrusting up against her, and Lir gives a choking cry when his cock pumps against her hole.

Dante laughs and turns her around, pushing her back against the wall. "Maybe I'll take you there later," he murmurs, his voice dark and dangerous as he covers her. "Right now I need to be inside your pussy, so open up babe."

She spreads her legs and he grabs the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up with ease and pulling her down to impale her on his cock, smothering her cry with a kiss. They've barely gotten started, and already there's the familiar tightening in her core that leaves her breathless; when he grinds against her, her head spins, her fingers scrabbling against his shoulders for something to grip onto. Has it ever been this quick, this raw? She can't remember and, as he starts to thrust in earnest, she doesn't care.

"Baby, you're so tight," Dante pants. 

She turns her head to capture his mouth, groaning around the kiss as his cock batters in and out of her. The orgasm builds faster than she can keep up, and after another minute she pulls back with a gasp, gripping his shoulders and dropping her head back.

Her mouth drops open as the pulsing starts, sharp and intense. "You coming already?" he growls.

He leans in as if to bite her neck, his teeth gripping her skin but not closing. Then he sweeps his tongue across her skin, sending another shudder through her, the contractions continuing on. "Dante!" Lir yelps, yanking on his hair.

He groans in answer, his hands sliding up to knead her backside. "God, I love it when you say my name like that."

His hips slow, and she moans helplessly as he rubs leisurely over her walls; because he doesn't stop, neither does her orgasm, and soon the overstimulation draws a whine from her throat every time he thrusts into her. It's tender, and sweet, and entirely too much, a pleasant sort of torture that drags on and on and on until, with a hoarse whisper of her name, the first waves of his release turn the friction of his cock silky.

Lir is trembling when he finally slips out of her body and sets her down. Her grip on him stays tight to keep herself standing, and Dante presses his forehead to hers, leaving dotted kisses on her lips. "Fuck you are so hot."

She smiles and huffs a laugh, dragging her palms down his chest. "You got me dirty again."

"Easy fix." He eases back, the spray of the water aiming between them. Through lidded eyes she watches him soap her sponge and then gently he washes her body. It's almost charming as he lifts one arm, then the other, then draws large circles around her breasts, before finally dragging the sponge in a long stripe from her chest downwards.

"Don't forget your dick," Lir jokes as he washes her thighs.

Dante looks up with a wink. "If I wash that lipstick off you're gonna have to replace it."

"Don't tempt me," she warns. "Now that I know you've got a fetish, I'm gonna wear it every day."

He grins, a little sharp. "I'm not gonna complain about fuckin' you every day."

Lir snorts and relaxes as he continues to scrub her before turning the sponge to himself. As he soaps up, she sets about washing her hair, sighing as the grime rinses down the drain, her scalp feeling much lighter once she's done. Dante nudges her, and she lets him rinse off, wondering if he's planning to stay. Threats about fucking her until she can't walk are all well and good, but she knows they'll either just go to bed or, if he's got somewhere to be in the morning, he'll head home, and she's almost sad to think about it.

Which is ridiculous.

He turns off the water and steps out, looking around for a moment before he spies the shelf with the towels. He grabs one and she leans against the tile to enjoy the sight of him drying off, his muscles covered in droplets of water that flex as he works. "You like something, sweetheart?" he jokes, peeking through his bangs.

"Fuck yes." Dante tosses a towel to her, then holds out a hand to help her from the shower. They crowd together on the bathmat, and after a quick sweep over her body, Lir winds the towel on her head to squeeze the water from her hair.

"Sexy," he teases, tugging at the end of the towel, and she swats at him with a laugh. "Hope you enjoy the break, darlin', 'cause there's a lot more to come."

She peers up at him. "Thought you were just talking big."

"Now, you know I never make a promise to a lady I can't keep." His arm snakes around her waist to pull her flush to his body, and he grins at her as he carefully pulls the towel from her hair and runs his fingers through the damp strands. "You got somewhere to be tomorrow?"

"Dinner with Kyrie."

"Guess I better get started, then."The kiss this time is more playful, but just as forceful. It does give Lir's head time to clear a bit, though, and by the time he is walking her back to the bedroom, his hands roam her body and his lips and teeth tease her mouth. This is a Dante that is more familiar, and she reaches around to squeeze his backside before snaking her hand over his hip. "Let's get you ready."

"Not yet," he replies.

Lir frowns, but he lifts her easily, half-carrying and half-dragging her to the bed. He flops on top, pulling her easily and lifting her by the hips until she is over his face. Lir leans forward to brace herself on his stomach as she feels his lips graze her slit. In the corner of her eye his cock twitches, and she gasps when his tongue nudges her clit.

Normally, he takes his time, making sure to kiss every inch of her sex until she's a writhing mess. This time, his attention stays focused on her clit, his tongue rubbing over it firmly, and she scratches over his stomach when her hands curl into fists, her head dropped as she pants raggedly. He's relentless, his thumbs keeping her folds parted to expose her pearl that throbs; it's not until his own hips roll the tiniest bit that she realizes that his cock is stiff and weeping, and Lir leans forward to lap at the fluid dripping from the tip.

Dante gives a deep groan. She feels his lips slide along her sex and then his tongue enters her, pressing deep inside. Lir pants as she rocks her hips, her movements restricted by his grip on her waist, but she manages to ride his tongue slightly, forcing the tip to press against the front wall.

She mouths at his cock, not taking it into her mouth, but tracing her lips with the tip and flickering her tongue on the opening. Too distracted by the thrust of his tongue inside her body, Lir opens her mouth to let the head sit on her tongue. Dante pumps his hips to fuck in and out of her mouth as he laps at her until his lips return to her hood and wrap around her swollen clit.

Her back bows with a keen that's choked by his length as her orgasm snaps along her spine, sharp enough that her toes curl. Dante yanks her back so she's seated firmly on his face, his tongue flicking harshly over her clit, keeping her pinned by his hands and his hips so that all she can do is endure, even when the pleasure gains a thin edge of pain.

Finally, he stops, and she slumps against the blankets when he carefully slides her off of him. "Damn," he sighs. His hands smooth over her backside, his fingers teasing along the seam of her body. "You got a choice now, doll, though it ain't much of one."

She turns her head to stare at him. "What?"

"Where I'm gonna fuck you." Dante nudges her legs apart and settles between them, leaning over her. "See, I figure I've had your mouth and I've had your cunt, but this?" He squeezes her rear. "Haven't fucked this yet. But I know it ain't really your favorite, so it's your call."

Lir peeks over her shoulder. "How do you know what is my favorite?"

He laughs and presses a kiss to her shoulder. "I can't stand how goddamn sexy you are."

His mouth moves across her back, pressing kisses against her shoulder blades before trailing down her spine. She sighs and settles into the mattress, her limbs heavy and her body relaxed from the orgasm. When Dante reaches the small of her back, he squeezes her backside again, and pushes so her hips tilt up. She feels him shift on the bed as he nibbles over her flesh until reaching the back of her thigh.

Lir gasps when she feels his tongue at her sex again. Dante pushes her up on her knees, her ass in the air as he licks her slowly. She grips the bedsheet with a groan, unable to help herself as she tilts back to open herself for more. "Greedy girl," he admonishes.

"You can't keep your hands off, and I'm the greedy one?" she mutters. He bites her thigh, drawing a yelp, before returning to her slit, where he laps at her lazily. "You're an ass."

She feels him shrug before he says, "Might wanna choose before I do it for ya."

Her lips press into a thin line as she presses her face to the quilt, thinking. Or trying to between the little jolts every time his tongue nudges beneath her hood or dips playfully into her opening; if she uses his metaphor from earlier, she's got about three rounds, and two have been used, leaving her with one to his three. She's already sensitive enough as it is, so, with a huff, she mumbles, "Next time."

"Next time?"

He moves again, and Lir feels him tug on her arms until she is kneeling, his broad chest against her back. His hands grip her hips and maneuver her to sink down on his cock, her body so wet now he glides inside with ease. Lir sighs and rolls her head back to his shoulder, and when her backside goes flush with his thighs he holds her there for a long moment.

One hand moves to her neck, cradling her chin so her head stays tilted back on his shoulder. The other moves between her legs and strokes her clit, but gentle, feather-light touches that barely register. Dante teases her as he starts to fuck her deeply, his lips dancing on her exposed neck and pressing to the juncture of her shoulder. "Next time? You realize I'm going to fill you again and again tonight?"

"Dante . . ." she groans.

He uses two fingers to open her lips, exposing her clit as his cock drags in and out of her. Then another finger begins to tease it, flicking and pressing in unguessable patterns that have her jolting. "No coming then, Lir," he warns. "I'm nowhere near done with you."

That's easier said than done. At this angle, his cock hits all the right spots, and the haphazard little shocks from her clit every time he touches it already have her in knots. But she can't find her voice, or enough of it, to do more than moan every time he fills her, so she can't warn him. His mouth trails over her shoulder, his teeth scraping lightly over her skin, and she gasps when they go sharp for a second. "Next time," he rumbles, "we'll see if you can handle all of me."

Her mouth is dry as she tries to speak, but in truth Lir can't do anything. Her body is one roll of pleasure after another, his cock pushing her closer and closer to her end, so that when she feels it becoming inevitable she lets go a whine. "Dante, please!" she gasps breathlessly.

He lets her go and she slumps forward, but his hands go immediately to her hips and yank her up and back. Dante begins to pound into her, drilling his cock inside her at a hard, fast pace so that moments later she explodes around him. She presses her face to the bed to cover her screams, her body quickly going oversensitive.

When she is sure she can't take anymore, she whimpers, and Dante pulls out. She catches sight of him looming over her as her eyes close, and then a hand covers her sex, massaging her lightly. "I'm not done with you yet," he says again. Lir feels something nudge at her lips, and when she immediately opens his cock slides into her mouth, burying into her throat.

She's too tired to do much, but that doesn't seem to bother him. He pumps his hips, the tip of his cock never leaving her mouth, as his hands roam her body; one stays over her sex, stroking lightly over her slit, while the other cups her breast and rolls her nipple between his fingers. The pleasure now is dull, soothing, and if it weren't for his touch, she'd doze. Just as she starts to, he slips a finger within her core, and her eyes fly open to find him watching her with a grin that's damn near predatory.

"Need to tap out?" he asks, the taunt clear, and she reaches up to grip the back of his thigh, urging him to keep going. He laughs, rolling her breast with his palm. "Didn't think so."

Lir shakes the haze from her mind as she purposefully begins to suck on his length. Her hand slides around his thigh to reach under for the flesh hanging there, and as she stretches to deep throat his length she strokes him gently. "Goddamn," he curses, his finger teasing her opening, and a second later he pushes his cock deep in her throat as he starts to come.

She swallows the seed as best she can, and when he pulls out there is still plenty in her mouth that she gulps down. Her head rolls to the side as she catches her breath as he lowers himself on top of her, settling between her thighs. Dante nuzzles her chest, biting along the curves of her breasts and flicking his tongue against her nipples as she sags limply under him. 

Lir watches as he tastes the pink buds, swallowing thickly when he looks at her again, his expression and his voice back to the predator he has been all night. "I want you again," he growls.

She should tap out. Probably. At least, that's what Nico would say, along with a litany of curses for her being so damn stubborn, but, fuck, he'd challenged her, and she's not going to take that lying down. Or, well, she is, but she's not gonna give in and give him the impression that she can't handle it. "What the hell are you waiting for, then?"

The moment the words leave her lips, he surges forward, and she can't even cry out when he sheathes his cock within her because it knocks the air from her lungs. They've played around with overstimulation before, plenty of times, but it was always playful, while this is rough and, if she didn't know him better, dangerous. His hands clamp around her hips to cant them off the bed, and she sucks in a breath when draws back, only for it to leave her with a groan as he thrusts back in, the pace he sets near brutal.

Lir reaches up and grips the bedsheet, biting her lip as he fucks her. Her toes curl and her knees fall back and open, holding in a scream of pain and pleasure. He is simply so powerful, and it is both frightening and exhilarating to have this man, this demon, holding her and taking her like this. Never once has Lir wanted to be toyed with, to be submissive, to give up control. But with Dante she feels as though she can, she should, and so she arches her back and wraps her legs around his waist.

He groans her name, a hand on her breast, the other on her thigh. Lir is drowning in pleasure, her sex too sensitive for this, feeling every inch that pounds in and out. Dante leans forward to brace one palm on the bed and the new angle scrapes against her clit, swollen and exposed and aching. It is an exquisite sort of torture, being so desired to the point where she may not survive.

Then he drapes over her, his mouth hot and hungry as it seeks her. "Come on my cock," he orders as he kisses her, and Lir knows she has to obey. The new angle puts additional pressure on her mound, his pelvis grinding against her clit, so when her orgasm hits she barely registers except to feel the intensity of the pleasurable contractions sharpen as a fresh wave of arousal covers them both.

Through the haze, she's dimly aware of his grip on her going bruisingly tight and the warmth that fills her, so much of it that it slips out and onto the sheets. Dante pants as he kisses her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth as he fills her, and she forces herself to drape an arm over his shoulders and hold him close until he begins to slow. Even when it's over, he doesn't pull out, instead blanketing her with his body, his cock twitching within her. "Goddamn," he sighs.

Lir makes a noncommittal noise and blinks up at the ceiling. His tone and posture mean he's done, at least for now, and she's got some new things to mull over, namely how insanely fucking hot it was to be dominated by him so completely. Despite the ache already blooming between her thighs, she's thinking over different things to try to get this reaction from again: lingerie, maybe, or, hell, just sprawling naked on his bed with the lipstick on? Him kissing her shoulder draws her back to the present, and she tilts her head to peer at him.

"Where'd you go?" he jokes.

"I'm here," she says weakly.

Dante smiles and moves up, his cock sliding out of her body. Lir stifles a moan as she tries to stretch her limbs, everything feeling sore and overused, like she had spent the whole day climbing. Her eyes open and close as she hears his footsteps on the carpet, and a minute later he returns with a glass of water, nudging her to sit up.

Lir gulps it down gratefully, the water cooling her sore throat. She grabs the bottle of aspirin next to her bed and pops a few before finishing off the water and handing him the glass. "Thanks," she sighs, wiping her mouth with her hand.

Dante studies her face, his brow drawn down. "You want me to go?" he asks.

She considers it. "Nah," she says, after a moment. "Might as well stay. You've still got a toothbrush stashed in the cabinet, right?"

He has the decency to look sheepish. "You know about that?"

"Yeah. And the duffel bag kicked to the back of my closet." With a yawn, she lays back, wrinkling her nose at the wet spot on top of her quilt. "Nico's not due back for a few days, and Nero doesn't come over unannounced. Though if you stay, I'm dragging you to dinner tomorrow."

Dante grins and stands again, heading into the bathroom. Lir takes the moment to admire his backside before he disappears behind the door, and then she stares at the ceiling again, wondering what the hell she is doing. Sleeping with him is one thing; but these overnights are ridiculous. They are gonna get caught, and every time they sleep together Lir promises herself its the last time. It's important to keep the sex just sex before it becomes not just sex.

He returns a few minutes later, turning off the lights before climbing onto the bed. Dante flops in a now-familiar way, using her like a pillow with his head on her stomach. Lir laughs to herself, too tired to protest as her eyes start to close. His fingers trace nonsense patterns on her thigh that lull her into sleep, his strong body solid and sinking against hers.

[oh-theatre]

Objection!: Chapter 25

Chapter title: But Can You Brave What You Most Fear?

A/n: I HAVE HAD THAT ENDING SECTION WRITTEN FOR MONTHS AND I HAVE NEVER BEEN MORE EXCITED. LOOK THE REST OF THE CHAPTER IS ABSOLUTE TRASH AND I KNOW THAT BUT I LOVE THEM AND IM SO SORRY THAT THIS STORY SUCKS

First | Previous | Next

words: 5000

summary: Tensions run high as the courthouse is under siege

pairings: Eventual logicality, prinxiety, platonic demus, romantic remile

warnings: Murder mention, child murder, Law and Courtroom, swearing, blood, hospital, crime scene,  murder, gun mention, guns, swearing, abuse, graphic descriptions, alcohol, shooting, crying

Ao3 Link  

“Liam quiet!” Patton shushes him, keeping a steady eye on his friends. Regretfully he ushers the man towards him, hearing the frantic sounds growing loud as they approach their location. “Its locked, come on” He pleads, Emile finally calmer, trying now to stay calm for the two children. Liam bangs once more on the door but huffs as he joins the group.

“What's the plan?” He spits, ignoring the clear animosity they emanate towards him. Emile pulls out his phone, Willow follows suit, both in frustrated shaking of their devices. Patton swallows trying his, ignoring the photo that tugs at his heart. Logan and him smiling, the twins giggling as they control the men, he shakes away his thoughts trying the numbers.

“Nothing” Patton notes, shoving the reminder back into his pocket. “We need to get out of the open” He cautions, Remus stifles a scared sniffle, reaching for his father. Patton takes him in a heartbeat, cradling the fear-stricken child. Valerie nuzzles comfortably into Diana, her tears staining the lawyers suit.

“Maybe we can find some others?” Emile suggests, his eyes examining the world around him. Patton clicks his tongue, Emile recognizes the face.

“I fear we might be the only people…” He covers Remus’s ears, Diana follows with a confused Valerie “Still alive… and I fear thats exactly how they want it” Patton sighs, wishing he had not ignored so many tell-tale signs. His happiness, this unfiltered joy, he didn't get it, he didn't deserve it, and he sure as hell wasn't feeling it right now. After a petrified moment of silent realization the group moved quickly, the hallowed halls leaving a different sense in the lawyer.

“We should split up” Liam offers, Emile rolls his eyes in a scoff, the remnants of his tears stinging. “We can look for different exits! Its not a bad idea” He whispers his last part, was that...embarrassment? Patton focuses on Remus, the young boys breathing worried the father, soft kisses upon his forehead as the pair argue about Liam's idea. After a resilient ‘Fine’ from Emile, Liam claps his hands. “We have five people, excluding the twins-

“Six” They turn, a breath of relief as James waves. “Looking for an even number?” He jokes through staggered breaths. Patton smiles, a sad twitch but alas. The way he takes charge of the group, overpowering Liam easily brought a happy satisfaction to the father. That was until he made his pairings. “Willow and Diana, go look for exits through the courtrooms” They nod, Patton ignores the soft affection he thinks he witnesses. “Patton, you take the twins and uh… Liam, look through the courtyard and towards the back” The first part made sense, he wasn't leaving his children. He wasn't here to argue, he couldn't upset the children more. Diana, after an apologetic look, secures Valerie in Liams arms. No man should look so disgusted by a child, and yet Liam looked as though he might faint. “Emile and I will look towards the main entrance, the police should have already been alerted. Look above all, stay safe ok?” James squeezes Patton's arm, a comfort as they part.

“Hey, you stay safe ok?” Emile takes Patton aside, He looks the lawyer in his sparkless blue eyes. “Above all, its you and the twins. If it comes down to it…” He glances to Liam, the man stands trying to figure out how to hold a child, the anxiety rises fast in Patton. “Leave him behind, I love you and he is not worth it. Pat?” Emile refocuses the man, Patton agrees knowing he could never do that. They split easily and quietly, each group traversing through the halls.

“So Logan...” Liam begins as the two creep through the offices. Patton scoffs, turning to him, fear hitting him as he looks upon Liam's face.

“Really? Right now?” He questions, this pure hatred wasn't him but at this moment he wanted nothing more than to be home and not here, with...him. Liam shrugs, what else were they going to talk about? How could Patton had fallen for that face so many times, now he simply felt sick, he wanted nothing more than to see Logan. Wake up from this nightmare, his children running to wake him up, Logan's arm lay over him. “Liam, I cant do this...ever...now” Patton falls again, any bit of confidence he had built up...shattered.

“Yes now” A sultry whisper, when did Liam get so close. Patton pushes him away, only a nudge as he remembers Valerie. “Sucks to suck” Liam laughs, god that sound...it pierced. “Come on cupcake, lets be honest, you miss me” Liam tickles, Patton yelps, jumping away. Valerie shrieks as Liam squeezes too hard, she manages to scramble away finding herself safe behind Patton.

“Come here angel” He mumbles, lifting her up, though harder to carry both, he didn't care. “I love you both” He promises, sweet kisses on both of their foreheads. The jump, the stutters, everything he had worked so hard to leave behind fell apart. And now he felt as eggshells were beneath him and Liam controlled his every feeling and step. He was simply a puppet in the mans game.

Bang

Too loud, Patton clutched to the walls, feeling lightheaded. After five years, through every tribulation he thought this, at least this was gone. But as he felt himself sinking and things went up in smoke, he knew...the panic was setting in. And he couldn't breathe. Liam took his side, relieving him of Remus, he helped situate him on the floor.

“Patton you have to get up” Liam requests, Patton shuts his eyes, the only thing he could feel was a shaking Valerie. “Come on cupcake” Liam pleads, and there it was. He knew that voice, he knew that soft spoken beg. ”I love you” He tries

“No Liam! Im done!” Patton cries, his hands tight on his packed bags, Liam stands at the door a snarl upon his pristine face. How Patton's blood ridden face compared was awful, but then...then Liams defenses fell. His lips loosened as his body collapses ready to embrace Patton. “Let me out” A pathetic whisper

“Come on Patton, Im sorry” His gentle tone carried like a song, he took Patton's hands, the bags cluttered the floor. “It won't happen again, please stay, I love you” He lied. A moment of hesitation before Liam wrapped him up, kissing his neck before nuzzling into his neck. And Patton fell for it, every goddamn time.

“Get off of me” He commands, a shallow breath. His eyes open, a dead glare forward. Breathe love, you're okay. With Logans words imprinted in his mind Patton regained himself, taking Remus back with a careful smirk. “I'm with Logan, and I love him” Liam groans, stomping his childish foot.

“What's so great about the lawyer?” Liam fights, Patton couldn't believe they were getting into this right now? “Why is he so good?” Liam grabs Patton, turning him as they face one another. But Patton wasn't going to shrink, not now.

“He's not” Patton swallows, looking at Remus and Valerie's shining faces, happy to be with their father. “He's not good, he's divine” Patton admits, a blush and a flutter at the mere vision of Logan in his mind. “He's my divine” Patton chuckles, he strides away, maybe he was going crazy. Maybe the adrenaline of this tense situation finally caught up to him, but he kept going. With no regard to whether Liam was with him or not.

Because he didn't care about Liam

~~~

“Patton I would like to-” Logan shakes his head, turning onto the highway in the clear night. “Patton maybe we have a moment?” Logan tries, the sour taste on his tongue. “Patton, if you have a brief second-” Its not going to take a second Logan, he chides himself. The streets empty at this hour, the clearing into the courthouse however?

Why was it so crowded?

He parks, a little sloppily but his mind had other ideas. He reaches the door, pushing through the rummoring crowd, finally reaching the ‘do not cross’ tape, the yellow hurting his eyes. He scans the front lines finding Virgil talking to another office, he taps him.

“What is happening?” He inquires, his calm manner hiding his panic. Virgil turns to him, his already sullen face sinks deeper into the dark that surrounds him. “Virgil…” He starts, but the noise finishes the thought for him.

Bang

“Pattons in there” Logan identifies, the whisper hissed. Virgil nods, looking to a seemingly determined Remy. “Emile” He breathes, Virgil bites his lower lip one final time he glances towards a furious Roman. Logan shakes his head. “James too?” Logan was concerned, but the first name stuck. Patton, no doubt the twins. The box in his coat pocket becomes heavy with dread. He fears it may rip through his fabric, dropping through the floor. “Patton” Logan goes again, Virgil recognizes the slight shudder in his voice. He takes his arms, bracing himself, knowing his own grief must wait.

“Im so sorry Logan” He laments, for whatever they must face next. Knowing these hours would be heart wrenching, and Logan wasn't prepared. Logan smiles, its terrifying, he looks just past the tape. Empty, suspension as they await, the swat teams advance but they want to do something.

“Patton, Virge… please I must...I” He struggles, what must he do? So much, he has too. He begins to make a move but Virgils too quick, Remy joins him keeping the lawyer back. “Come on!” He screams, he didn't mean to but the silence felt numb. “Please” He cries, real tears, he hated the feeling but hated this so much more.

“Lo, breathe bud come on” Virgil takes him to where the officers are set up, seating him with some water. Remy rubs his hands together, the small whimper from a baby catches both of the men's attention. Logan's eyes go wide as Remy cradles Thomas, shushing him the best he can through his own fear. He wasn't the only one with something, someone at stake.

“I apologize,” Logan says, Remy turns to him, waving him off. No one had seen the detective so silent. “Let me take Thomas, so you can focus” He offers, a truly grateful look and Thomas sits sweetly in Logan's arms. “Where the north wind...meets the sea, there's a river full of memory” Logan hums gently, watching the curious look on Thomas smile at his intrigue. Remy stops his tears turning back to defenses, an encouraging squeeze from Virgil. “Sleep my darling safe and sound” He rocks Thomas, watching his eyes fall into a sleepy river.

“So we know there's a shooter right?” Remy gains himself, Virgil nods looking over the transcript so far. “We don't know how many or where right?” Another nod, Virgil cringes as he hears Romans stifled fears. He sits next to Logan, both discussing over hushed whispers their worries.

“We know that there have been casualties, and according to our heat signatures...there eight people inside” Virgil explains, Logan perks his ears up, a soft hope as he listens. “We cant seem to track or locate the threats, they must be using something...it also seems they disposed an EMT, we cant communicate at all” Virgil informs, rushing as the situation only worsens.  

“Ok breathe, the team is in there and-”

Bang

But this time accompanied by a scream, at least they were close. Everyone froze trying to identify the noise. Logan pours his energy into calming the baby, letting the world move on without him, ignoring as Remy breaks trying to go beyond his own security perimeters. Wishing he could cover his own ears as the cries, sobs and screams only grew, unbridled sadness oozed from each of them.

“Ok enough everyone!” Haley commands, her declaration silences the crowd. Once joined they become their own pieces, each a story, someone they love and care about. And only eight would be relieved. “Yes ma'am?” Haley points, Logan follows her scowling as Gloria and Arlo strut to them, no concern simply annoyance.

“My son and his partner are in there” She states, Logan furrows his brows...partner?

Oh god

Oh no

“Liam is in there?” He gapes, Gloria looks to him, no qualms as she examines him. “Virgil” He pushes, the detective understands, getting on his walkie. He listens as Virgil warns the swat to arrest Liam when they find him first, for safety measures. “Keep Patton safe” Logan begs, the men can't respond.

“Oh don't be ridiculous” Gloria chides “Im sure he's fine, I mean really this is a tad dramatic” She laughs, Logan goes to say something but it seems Arlo has his own control for once.

“Gloria are you serious?” He exclaims, turning to the shocked woman. “Our son is stuck in there with a monster and lord knows who's pulling the trigger!” He huffs, Logan watches feeling a prideful smile. “Can you for one moment be human and care?” His desperation matches that of Logan and Virgil and Remy and Roman. Logan nods to him, a shared moment.

“This doesn't redeem anything you have done, especially to Barbara and Patton” Logan reminds, Arlo smiles softly. No doubt picturing his children.

“I know, but I hope its a start” They shake hands, before Logan returns his attention to a cooing child, a spark of intrigue as he fumbles with Logans tie. He sat rocking Thomas again, tuning out the absolute panic that spread through the crowd, simply staring straight ahead. Praying that Patton would emerge, a sweet grin as he tumbled forward with the twins.

Thats all he could do

And listen to the constant-

Bang

~~~

“Anything?” James wonders, shaking yet another door. Emile huffs but to no avail as his efforts fail as well. They regroup in the center, going over every move and every door they've tested. Emile picks at his tie, letting the silk calm him.

“Surely the police have been notified and have sent in a team” Emile knows how the precinct works, he's seen this a million times. If he's got his knowledge down, there should be a swat team parading through the building right now, searching for survivors. “What if we just tried to sit and wait?” He proposes, James shrugs no harm no foul. He directs Emile to a hidden corner in one of the rooms, they kneel listening to the solemn silence.  The door opens, they clutch to each other as multiple feet shuffle in.

“Clear!” A voice declares, Emile shakes his head jumping up.

“Not clear! Not clear!” the team turns, as James and Emile approach them. The leading man turns to his walkie, clicking the button to speak through, the emotion that washes Emile as Remys voice speaks back.

“We found two of the eight, bringing them back now, over” He informs, Emile bites his lower lip.

“Copy that, split up the team and find the others” Remy commands, Emile can barely steady himself. The next few moments are pure terror as they walk in the open, following the swat team to safe haven. Every turn petrified the new father, and every small creak stopped him in his tracks.

But nothing hit him harder than coming out into the clearing and seeing an expectant Remy, both eyes locking as the world around them disappears. Remy could have, and should have waited till they reached the line but instead jumping skilfully over, pushing past the team, right up to Emile.

“Remy!” Emile practically sobs, falling safe into his partners arms. Remy squeezes him tight, promising to never let go. “I love you so much” Emile whispers, ignoring more excitement from around them.

“Right back at you” Remy sighs, pulling away through hesitancy. “Come on” He leads them back over, securing Emile behind the line, sitting him down. “Logan” Remy identifies, the lawyer nods placing the sleeping child into the doctor's hand. Granting the trio their moment in time, frozen as happy as they were.

“And you're sure you're ok?” Roman questions rather forcefully, James scoffs with playful laughter. The judge examines his boyfriend, checking every inch of his seemingly safe figure. James takes Romans cheeks, stroking them with gentle affection.

“Im okay, I promise” After a tender kiss, they retreat to a restful place. Sitting with exhaustion through their adrenaline. Logan watches as Virgil stares at them, regretful pools strain his eyes. Logan knows he should comfort him, but he feels numb, the clearing nwo remains empty, no one in or out. Just a pair of anxious, blue eyes, hoping with every last cell in his body.  

~~~

“Where the north wind, meets the sea” Patton hums carefully, the twins napping peacefully in his trembling arms. “There's a river...full of memory” Liam listens, the voice so quiet, the tune carries through his mind, dancing gracefully through the echos of the courtroom. “Sleep my darling safe and sound” Patton continues, sitting in a hidden corner of the room “For in this river, all is found” He promises, kissing them on their forehead as they nuzzle into him. The chill of the room hitting them soon however.

“Thats a nice song” Liam comments, locking the doors after their trail led to a dead end of exits. Now deciding they must sit and wait.

“Logan sings it, it seems to work quite well” Patton dreams, picturing the mans soft face as he sings to the giddy twins. The night stars reflecting on his perfect eyes, twinkling with intrigue for more. Liam rolls his eyes through a grunt, restless he paces. “The more noise you make, the more likely it is for us to get caught” Patton warns, keeping his eyes on his children.

“Whatever” Liam scoffs, kicking the rug below him. Patton shakes his doubts, swaying delicately to keep the children at ease. “Why here? Why now? Why us?” Liam rambles, Patton ignores him, figuring his silly mutterings had no meaning. “What if they're targeting us?” Liam poses, Patton swallows, the thought crossed his mind a couple of times.

“That's ridiculous, who wo-”

“Patton Hart!” A grunged voice screams, the sound pierces yet no source can be located. Liam eyes him with fear.

“You were saying?” He mocks, Patton shushes him, gesturing desperately to hide. Liam obliges through his own scared manner, the shallow breathing heard from both ends. The door crashes open, and Pattons instincts fight. His hold on the twins tightens as he pushes into the plaster hoping he might just melt into the wall.

“Patton Hart!” It repeats, Patton clasps his mouth, ignoring the stifled tears that cascade down his cheeks. “Come out, come out wherever you are” It teases, Liam shakes and Patton prays for once the man keeps his mouth shut.

But no one was there, no one, no human resonated in Liam.

He just was

“Over there!” A timid confession, Patton bites his hand. “P-patton is over there” He knows Liams pointing, he knows in only a matter of seconds everything would be over. “Please dont hurt me” Patton wanted to laugh, how many times had he uttered that same plea, that same beg. To Liam nonetheless. Ironic…

“Go” The voice demands and Liam scatters, his feet echo down the hall before disappearing. Patton was alone, and it was over, he had failed.

“Im so sorry my little angels” He whispers, the twins cry into him, shaking like they could never stop. “Im so sorry” He strokes them gently, hoping they find solace in these last moments, praying they would be spared.

But the universe and whatever higher powers work in a strange way

A strange way indeed

“Get on the floor! Drop the weapon and hands on your head!” Someone new? No...there were many bodies. They filed in, a beautiful rhythm as they surrounded the criminal. It went on but Patton remained frozen, until the last silent drop fell to the room. “Mister Hart?” He dares look up, a man in uniform, bright white ‘SWAT’ letters placated. “You're safe now, lets get you out of here” He offers his hand, he offers an exit from this nightmare.

The next few moments were a motionless blur, they walked calmly through the building. Ignoring what seemed to be the piled bodies, Patton felt empty but refused to let the team help with his kids. Nothing sparked in his eyes as they traversed what used to feel like his home away from home. Nothing was alive, until they reached the crowded clearing. A hush over the crowd as the team appeared, but nothing would compare to when Logan and Pattons eyes met across the tense air.

“Patton” Logan refuses to heed Virgil's cautions about crossing the line, he didn't care. He made his way slowly, a staggered breath before he reached the father. “Love” Was all he could manage, Patton thought he couldn't speak but he fell into the lawyer. Allowing Logan to take his cheek, kissing him so gently. Checking each twin so meticulously.

“Im so sorry” Patton mumbles, Logan laughs, shaking his head. Relieving the clearly struggling father from Remus, the young boy feeling safe instantly. At this moment they didn't care about the commotion, they were here. “I love you” Patton needed to tell him, from the first night to this moment the words had never felt so true.

“I love you” Logan replies, the phrase used to feel so weird as it tickled his tongue, refusing to fall for anyone besides his mothers. But now, it felt like the pieces just fit. “Come on, they cleared the building, lets give you some time” He ushers the family away from noise, watching as Virgil and Roman follow them. “Breathe Patton” Logan assures, squeezing his hand.

God it felt so good to hear it, not a fading memory, but the words imprinted in his mind.

~~~

The air had calmed, and after many ‘Are you ok?’ and angry promises from Virgil the four felt like a machine again. Jokes and jests, Roman and the twins, Virgil and Logan's debates, it felt comfortable. James, Emile and Remy soon joined them and Patton was excited almost, forgetting the event.

He was targeted...and it had failed.

He should feel on edge but something just felt right? He felt safe, maybe that was premature but he was surrounded by people he loved. The conversation only livened and Patton found himself yawning, leaning on Logan who took him with no push back. The box in his pocket became more prominent, the lawyer swallowed standing with Patton.

“So targeted?” Virgil asks, Patton nods, practically relying on Logan for support. “Patton is there something you aren't telling us?” Virgil pushes, the normal expression should not be on Patton. Why was this so ok with him?

“Im vegetarian?” He wonders, awkward laughs but Virgils not convinced.

“Why don't we resume this conversation at a later date?” Logan proposes, aware of the uncomfortable fidgeting Patton does. Murmurs of agreement from the rest of them, a grateful kiss from Patton seemed to shut Virgil down. “We will be back, Im going to get Patton some water” Logan informs, Roman nods his charge of the twins set now.

“Thank you” Patton nudges as they take a stroll through the sleeping building. Logan smiles, kissing his forehead, even though a short separation he had missed him dearly. He decided now was as good as time as any.

Because he was sure

“Can we talk?” Logan asks once further from the group, Patton nods allowing Logan to take him away. Logan takes his hand carefully leading him into the empty room, their steps echo as they step further in, Patton looks around, his eyes marvelled. Logan tugs harder making sure Patton keeps up, he smiles at his boyfriend as the seemingly nervous leads him to the middle of the room. Patton looks dazily around everything, it's just so relaxed and calm.

“Patton” Logan clears his throat, the lawyer turns to him, cocking his head. Logan will never get over the sweet innocence his partner radiates, the absolutely adorable way he composes himself.

“Hmm?” Patton hums, Logan takes both his hands, fiddling with his fingers gently. He can't help the urge, leaning in slowly he kisses Patton softly, surprising the smaller of the two.

“Sorry, I jus-” He's cut off by a gesture of return, Patton cups his cheek as he kisses him back. It's safe to say they both melt. Once he pulls away, he sighs content, shakes his head quickly however. “Ok I have something to say, and I need you to listen” He asks, Patton rubs his thumb against Logan's cheek reassuringly. Logan swoons, shutting his eyes, feeling the warmth against his face. Logan kisses the palm of Patton's hand, allowing the smaller man to giggle.

“I love you starlight” Patton confesses, as he had done so many times before. “Now go, tell me!” He encourages, Logan nods ready.

“Patton...you are the smartest person I have ever met, you never, ever fail to amaze me” Logan breathes as Patton cups his face, letting go was not an option. The room resonated with his love, his words echoed, Patton couldn't miss them. “From the moment you walked into this exact courtroom ten years ago, to this very second, you've been my everything” How do you reciprocate something so strong, how can you explain your own words?

“Lo-” Patton tries, he has so much to say. He's not sure where this is going but damnit if he won’t tell Logan how much he loves him.

“Please, let me finish” He begs, his eyes twinkle, Patton's favorite feature. The absolute excitement in his eyes, the hinted buzz as he generates thoughts. He nods staying quiet at his request “Patton, you are the strongest, kindest, most loving person, and I don't know how” He admits, they laugh dryly. “Im serious, you've been through...quite a lot in your life” Patton shrugs hoping it'll stop the tears. “There aren't words…” He stops, his breath stutters, there really aren't, this overwhelming pang in his chest, the absolute adoration in his eyes. “There aren't words to describe everything I feel...I don't even know what I feel” He says, tilting his head up to stop the tears. He can get through this. Patton smiles, sadly wiping them away for him. “Patton, I love you, from the smile you gave me as you sat down for our first case to the moment you asked if you could kiss me” He reminisces, Patton sucks in a breath, he'd like to do it again.

“Take a breath divine” He requests watching his partner struggle to get his words out. Logan laughs through his sweet sorrow, allowing Patton once more to rub his thumbs under his eye, wiping away more tears. The prickly feeling quickly washed away, replaced by warmth and safety. A promise of love.  

“I-i promise I can get through this” He only half jokes, Patton has to wonder where this came from. Not that he doesnt love it, and that he isn't vibrating to return everything Logan says to him, to give him all the love he so deserves. He removes his hold from Patton's waist, lingering as Patton's hands meet his own. He inhales slowly, a deep breath closing his eyes, he begins his descent and Pattons heart drops. Logan kneels shakily, Patton can feel his hands move fast, Logan goes to his pocket. “P-patton Hart” He stutters, Patton squeezes tightly to his hand. “Will you marry me?” He meets his tear dewed eyes, the bright star behind the glasses. The box he holds out, a beautiful perfect ring awaiting an answer.

“Youve got to be kidding me” Patton scoffs playfully, his heart beats fast he can hear its pulse, Logan feels the panic set in. “Only me” He shakes his head, Logan recoils his hands, feeling a deep flush. Patton goes to his own pocket, a small velvet box emerges. “A walk in the park, everything planned out, under the stars just like you like it” He mumbles, Logan stands, a calm floods him, the urge to scoop Patton up smothering the man he holds so dear overtakes him. “Oh! And yours was so good, I mean yes of course and…” He rambles on but Logans eyes go wide, he cups Patton's face stopping him in his tracks.

“Y-yes? You said yes?” He rushes, Patton nods unphased. “Oh..oh!” He exclaims picking up the lawyer, he spins him around delighted, squeals of laughter are released. He sets him down meeting his lips, Pattons arms make their way around Logans neck returning the gesture. They pull away desperate for air, clutching to each other. “I love you Patton” Patton smiles bright, a toothy grin spread across his face. Logans not sure what happened, the way his frozen smile disappeared so quickly, Logan doesn't have time to register. Had he said something wrong? The shortest breath released as Patton lurches only slightly forward. He had missed the high-pitched ringing that had entered the room seconds before, but he didn't miss Patton falling limp in his arms and the increasing amount of something warm oozing in his hands. “P-patton?” He fears, He descends to the ground with Patton still in his arms. His eyes dart around the room quickly then back to Patton. Everything happens so slowly, he doesnt understand whats happening, until he sees the dark red bleeding from Patton's abdomen. “Oh god...oh god! Patton! No no...no! Help!” He cries, his hands applying heavy pressure to the wound. He hugs him closer, he can't even see anymore, the fogginess and blurriness of his glasses and tears well him up. “Patton! Please! God no! Someone!”

Take a breath divine

I love you my starlight

“Help...” He pleads softly

[naveenscrackwhore]

Crumbling Down

Summary: All around the hospital rumors are being spread of how an Attending and Resident are in a relationship. Those rumors happen to be about Ethan Ramsey and Cecily Aldaine. What does this mean for the two of them? What will happen to them? 

word count: 2014

A/N: hi! im sorta new to writing but ive been inspired by so many amazing writers to write this. i hope you all enjoy this! it took me a bit to get the confidence to post but should i make this a series? tell me in the comments below :)

Cecily blankly stared at her trembling hands, attempting to concentrate on Ethan’s voice. She could barely hear him though, no matter how hard she tried to focus. Soon, all she could hear was her own blood chaotically rushing all throughout her body and the sharp throbbing pain of her head. Her eyes became cloudy and her vision foggy. She felt her lips tremble along with her short legs. She became weaker and weaker by the moment, any moment now her legs will give up and she’d collapse to the floor with a thud. Cecily continued to breathe in and out. Shutting her eyes close, she counted with the beating of her heart. She sucked in a deep breath and exhaled out. One. She repeated it, her hands slowly started to shake less. Two. Again, she sucked in another breath and held it for a few moments before forcing it all out and quickly opened her eyes. Three. Cecily was finally back in reality. 

She snapped her gaze back at Ethan, his tan, veiny hands grasped onto his brunette and faint grey streaked hair, his grip hard enough to rip out chunks of it. A nervous and frustrated habit of his. She observed the way his brows furrowed and two straight lines formed on top of it. His sky blue eyes shut tightly as he spoke frantically. Cecily could also notice the slight wrinkles forming at the corners. Her eyes followed his long leg when he continued to pace around the room, another nervous habit of his. Words were rushing out of his mouth and his voice was growing louder and louder,- a part of her was pretty sure, the whole hospital heard them. He opened his light blue eyes and their eyes met. His eyes boring into her deep green ones. It felt as if he was staring right through her skull, invading her privacy and seeing all of her secrets. Sometimes, she thought of him as a parasite or a disease manifesting through her. But that's not very romantic.

She felt something boil and rise in her. Cecily was always a friendly, nice person and she rarely was confrontational. Sure, she might be outgoing and ‘outrageously,’ enthusiastic and energetic most of the time. The woman always tried her best to never confront anyone unless she was extremely angry at them for a valid reason. She always hated arguments but she’s recently found herself to be in a lot more since she started her career at Edenbrook. Breaking out of her thoughts and her murderous glares, she stomped towards him and halted right in front of Ethan. 

“Ethan, I don’t care about my career as much as I care about you!” Cecily passionately argued back at him, her fight or flight mode switching on. She was now close to him, her fingers aggressively poked at his chest as she looked up at him. “You never ask me what I want! This is exactly what happened last year in Miami! You always tell me how I should feel and ignore my feelings! You’re literally impossible!” 

She huffed at her swooped bangs and stared him down. Raking her hand through her long blonde locks, she gave in. With a long sigh, Cecily's body lightly pressed against his as she  cupped one side of his face with her hand while the other tucked the loose curl behind his ear. “I- I care about you Ethan more than you can ever imagine. I don’t care where I am at in five years if you’re not there with me.” 

Ethan’s hands settled on the curve of her small back, supporting her from falling. They stared into each other's eye longingly as Ethan took a few moments to process what she said. He hesitantly leaned down as she stepped on her tippy toes, her freckled nose bumping with his.. Neither broke eye contact as their lips ever-so slightly brushed against each other. But before Cecily could even press her lips harder against his, Ethan pulled away and turned so she couldn’t see him drag his hand up his face.

“Ethan?” Cecily stepped closer to him, her hand gently touching his shoulder.” Are you oka-.” 

The moment didn’t last long as Ethan whipped himself to face her, lightly smacking her hand away from him. She stared at him, her mouth slightly open and her eyes slightly more big. He drew in a breath as he growled, “Dr. Aldaine, I care about my career much more than I’ll ever care about you.”

Cecily paled, she didn’t move, she almost was frozen. She felt her mouth become and her hands became unsteady again. Her sea green eyes moved away from him as she glanced at his desk. Her heart dropped low to her stomach and it felt like she couldn’t breathe, again. She rested her hands on her neck as she anxiously rubbed it. Tears were threatening to spill but she resisted the sensation that eventually would take over. After what felt like an eternity, she tumbled through her words, “Oh, um.. Sick. Right, okay.”

“I’ll be on my way, I have to get some scans for my patient. Goodbye, Doctor. Ramsey.” She cleared her throat and made finger guns towards the door. She quickly darted out of his office and away from his sight. Her throat soon closed again andher walls crumbled down. 

Cecily quickly turned the knob of the supply closet and collapsed. Her hands gripped onto the cracked walls and her nails scraped some of the paint off of it as she glanced up at the ceiling. Trying to keep the tears a float, she refused to cry,- at least not over him. She was breathing ragged, her arms moved to her chest and she clutched tightly on herself, attempting to hug herself. 

‘It hurts so much.’ she thought, ‘why does it hurt so-.’

The door swung open and Bryce stood in front of it concerned. His brown eyes scanned her, trying to comprehend why she was on the edge of a mental breakdown. He stood still for a while, not completely sure of what to do with Cecily. Bryce couldn’t recall if he ever saw her cry this much. The moment, they made eye contact. She rubbed her nose with the sleeve of her lab coat and sniffled.

“Bryce, don’t just stand there! Get in or get out!” she cried, throwing an ivy bag at him. 

Bryce gave her a sad smile, remembering their first day at Edenbrook. She said that exact same thing to him as she did a year ago. He silently closed the door with a click as he slowly walked towards her, sliding down the wall. His long, toned arm wrapped around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. He rested his chin on Cecily’s head, keeping her close and tight. He rubbed soothing, circular motions around her back, whispering reassuring words in her ear. 

After a few minutes of her hyperventilating, she was finally stable and not crying. All he could hear was small sniffles and breathing steading. His arms still had her in a cocoon, protecting her with all he had. Bryce hated to see Cecily cry. They’ve been best friends since last year and were completely inseparable. They relied on one another, a lot. And when one was upset or in pain the other was there for them. He always joked that the best should always stick together but he really meant it, in some egotistical, cocky way. Bryce swears on his looks that he’d always be there for her, no matter what. 

Bryce’s fingers nimbly turned her head to face him, his thumb pressed softly against her chin. His eyes softened even more as he could see her nose was pinker than Azaleas. He comfortingly asked what happened to make her cry so much. 

Almost immediately, her chin started to wobble and her eyes began to water again. Cecily bit her lip, hard, trying to stop her cries but it failed, miserably. A metallic taste lingered on her tongue as she shoved her head into his chest. Through incoherent sobs, she cried, “I- I don’t wanna talk about it.” 

He massaged her shoulders and he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, “Okay, we don’t have to, if you don’t want to.” 

They stayed like that for a long time before Bryce finally stood up and offered her a hand. Cecily hesitantly took it, letting him pull her off her feet. A small giggle left her lips as she crashed into him. He laughed along with her, too. They quietly walked out of the supply closet, not bothered by the stares of their coworkers. At least, Bryce wasn’t. Cecily was though. She felt a burning sensation through her head, she knew whose eyes were on her and she felt dirty and ashamed. Cecily felt her cheeks flush a bright red as she attempted to concentrate on Bryce.

“Hey, at least, you don’t have make up on today.” he gave her a grin, “Right?” 

Cecily snorted dryly, “Yeah, I guess so.” She bit her lip, lightly before hugging him again. Resting, her head on his chest, her small arms wrapped around his torso. 

“You’re welcome, Barbie.” Bryce cockily mocked before winking at her, before strutting off to the surgical floor. 

“Whatever Ken!” she called out after him, walking towards the nurses station, picking up one of her patient’s charts and continuing the rest of her long shift. 

After the long hours of skillfully diagnosing and discharging patients,- and maybe avoiding a certain attending,- her day was finally over. Cecily could go home and sulk whilst eating a tub of strawberry ice cream or she can get drunk at Donahues. The ideas both seemed to fit well with her if she was being honest but she already made plans with the others for Donahues. She slipped on a pair of light blue sweats and a white crop. Staring at the mirror, she pulled her matching bandana and swiftly pulled her out of her face and poked at strands to frame her features. Cecily gnawed at her bottom lips as she remembered the occurring events with Ethan with a shake of her head and a sigh, she stumbled out of the changing room, shoving her professional clothes and heels in her locker. Frankly, she didn’t feel like bringing them home, she was just lazy. 

Sienna awaited near the entrance along with Jackie, Bryce and Elijah. All talking amongst themselves excitedly and were full of banter. Bryce and Jackie continued making witty comments at each other as Sienna and Elijah spoke of their interns, Sothy and Mitch. Cecily finally met up with them. She shared a bright, teasing smile and placed her small, pale hand on her hip. “Ready to start drinking lightweights or are you not up for it?” 

“That’s some big talk coming from a moppy drunk who can barely handle two shots of tequila,” Jackie quipped back at Cecily, her leathered arm swung over Cecily’s shoulder. Her big brown eyes sparked with a flare, the usual teasing flare, Jackie always had. She smirked, pridefully at her as Cecily shooed her away and elbows her side. 

“Leave her alone, Jackie,” Elijah grinned, “Cecily’s only 24, there’s a lot of time for her to become and train for drinking.” 

“I-,” Cecily groaned, she stared at the high ceiling, covering her face with her arms, “ Ugh! It was one time! And,- and I already had half a bottle of scotch! You can’t blame me!” 

The pair of residents strolled out of Edenbrook with lopsided grins. Screams of boisterous laughter and just yelling,- in general came from their direction. All of them butting heads and sizing the other one up. They staggered into each other, resulting in Bryce to fall flat on his behind which made Jackie make a remark and the others snickering. The five of them finally were there and were ready to venture into Donahues and forget anything that happened today with burning, refreshing liquid. 

hope you enjoyed! would anyone want me to make a taglist?