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tonystarchive · 1 year ago

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IRONDAD & SPIDER-SON WHUMP MASTERLIST—PART 1

Last Updated: September 2023

As promised, here is my long overdue Irondad Whump Masterlist! This list took an embarrassing amount of time to compile and over forty pages in my Google Docs (!!!!!).

Due to the sheer amount of fics, I will be posting in parts. Within these posts, each fic will categorized by its most prevalent trope/theme.

I hope the work from these talented contributors brings as much whumpy joy to you as they do to me!

Also, a very special shoutout to my most treasured Irondad authors iron_spider, for_the_night, madasthesea, losingmymindtonight, AdVitemAeternum, MotherKarizma, and so many more! This post is dedicated to you. ♡

Adoption/Tony Stark is Peter Parker’s Biological Father

5 Times Tony Acted Like Peter’s Dad by for_the_night

Summary: “And the one time he actually was." *Featuring an award evening, nightmares, a father-son field trip, appendicitis, and a very special gift—oh, and SO many forehead kisses.*

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

Summary: “‘...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15-year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…’ Statistically, there are a lot of 15-year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15-year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager. But Peter is not picking up his phone.”

Dad Is Just A Word (You Give It Meaning) by madasthesea

Summary: “Father's Day, two years after May dies. Peter has something special to give and something important to say.”

For Want of a Dad (In Need of a Son) by GhostInTheBAU

Summary: “So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?’ Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject. He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks. The trip is during spring break—a four-day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors. But the real kicker? It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be. Not again." Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement. Because of Spider-Man.

Homebound by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “Shortly after Homecoming, Peter starts having panic attacks. Tony happens to have some experience with those. What do you do when everyone around you has a tendency to die? What do you do when the last person, the most precious, the one you absolutely cannot lose, maybe wants you? Do you give in, or do you run? Do you take what they offer, or do you keep them as far away from the disaster that is your life as you can?”

I Love You More Than Anything Series by iron_spider

Summary: “The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31—from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos”

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley

Summary: “So much changed with Peter’s body chemistry after the bite that new things are still coming up that surprise him. One day he and Tony are having a fight and Peter is so stressed out he ends up having a seizure. Seizures… great, so that’s a thing now, and Tony has decided that the best thing is for Peter to stop being Spider-Man. The more the seizures happen, the more protective Tony becomes. All Peter wants is to have his life back." Or: May asks Tony to take joint custody of Peter to help with the Spider-Man thing and this new stress seizure issue. Peter learns that sometimes parents do what’s necessary even if it’s not a popular choice with their kids.

Questions of Science, Science and Progress (Do Not Speak As Loud As My Heart) by l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r

Summary: “I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart." Or: Peter stays with Tony for a few weeks, and the pair get into all kinds of shenanigans. And maybe, just maybe, those few weeks will usher in something more.

These Days I’ll Sit On Cornerstones by Finny3120

Summary: “Tony was ill-prepared to find that the vigilante he'd recruited was a 14-year-old boy. He was even less prepared for Peter Parker to be mute. But Peter hasn't spoken since his uncle died. And the more Tony works with the teen, the less it matters to him. He hears Peter just fine.”

You’re Stuck With Me by for_the_night

Summary: “I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.’ Peter gaped. Of all of the entrances he’d expected from Mister Stark after being alone in a hospital room for hours, that wasn’t one of them." Or: Peter gets taken to hospital with a ruptured appendix and Tony comes to a daunting realization of just how little hold he has on the kid outside of Medbay.

Alternate Universe

My Baby, My Baby by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Summary: “Silence falls over them like a warm blanket. Distantly, there’s commotion down on the street as people walk home from clubs. Peter thinks Tony might be his best friend in the whole world. After a long, peaceful moment, Tony says, voice dripping with warmth, ‘Night, kid.’ ‘Goodnight, Mr. Stark." Or: Tony and Peter in the middle of the night, in five alternate universes.

Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara)

Summary: “Boss?’ Tony jolted out of his half-asleep state. ‘What’s up, FRI?’ ‘There is a visitor here to see you.’ Tony jumped up. Anyone he knew would usually call or text first, so he was immediately on alert. ‘Who is it, FRI?’ ‘I need you to have an open mind, and know that I do not believe this person is any threat.’ Oh, yeah, that made him feel better. ‘Excuse me? How about you let me decide that, Watson?’ He started walking towards the door, activating his watch gauntlet. ‘Wait, Boss.’ He was annoyed, but he trusted his AI enough to stop and listen. ‘I also need you to know that I have performed biometric scanning, and this person is who they appear to be. However, they insist they’re not from our universe, and that is the part I don’t understand." — In a universe where he never invented time travel, and never brought anyone back, Tony Stark gets a late-night visitor he never could have expected. Prompt taken from @idk-bruh-20 Irondad fic idea #97 on Tumblr. Idea from @derpmallow.

What The Heart Knows by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “When Peter wakes up, his head is being assaulted by a sledgehammer. He has no idea where he is. He has no idea what happened to him. He has no idea who he is, other than ‘Peter.’ But then, he looks over at the man who is scrutinizing him with worried eyes, and he knows who the man is. That's his dad." Or: The one where Peter gets hit over the head really, really hard and has temporary amnesia, and makes a very reasonable assumption based on the data presented to him.

Angst

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

Summary: “He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy. Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root. I love him.”

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Summary: “Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.”

Agape by canon irondad (tomlinsoul)

Summary: “It's Tony's first date night with Pepper since the Snap, and Peter can't wait to spend some quality time with his little sister. Too bad a pair of hapless intruders, head trauma, and a panicked helicopter ride throw a spanner in the works." Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Head Trauma + Day 7: Seizures + Day 19: Repeatedly Passing Out + BTHB: Big Brother Instinct

Broken Heart Syndrome by iron_spider

Summary: “Tony is clearly really upset, the kind of upset that Peter’s only seen the likes of a couple of times, and it’s too close after everything happening to really talk about it. He can definitely see that now. ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter says. ‘I’m sorry, I should have answered—’ ‘Yeah, you should have answered!’ Tony yells. His bottom lip is trembling and he shakes his head, his eyes wild. He runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll know for next time,’ Peter says. He doesn’t know what’s gonna make this better. Probably nothing. ‘There better not be a next time,’ Tony says, dropping his hand from his face. ‘God, like this? Pete, no one knew where he was but you, and you—you kept it that way so nobody knew what the hell was happening, and you—you weren’t answering, kid, and that asshole sent me all that shit plucked directly from my nightmares, and I was trying to be strong for May because she was worried, too, and you—and you, I—I thought I wasn’t gonna ever—I thought—Jesus, Peter, you don’t think, you don’t—’ Tony bends over, clutching at his arm and breathing hard through his mouth.”

Dead In There, You’re Dead In There by iron_spider

Summary: “Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.’ Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all. ‘You’ll fix it,’ Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. ‘Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—’ Tony starts forward towards him. ‘Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.’ ‘The protocol, the protocol,’ Peter insists, waving his hands through the air. Tony shakes his head. ‘The protocol?’ ‘The Avalon Protocol, Tony,’ Peter spits out, with venom.”

Dead-Eyed by iron_spider

Summary: “Hey,’ Tony says, fast, into the phone. ‘Everything alr—’ ‘Hey, no, I don’t know where he is,’ MJ says, in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony, and I know I have access to that tracking thing, but it feels weird for me to do that, and it doesn’t feel weird for you to do that, so you should do that. And find him and tell me what’s going on.’ ‘Okay, calm down,’ Tony says, getting up and stepping back from his workstation. ‘You know you can’t tell me to calm down, because I’m calm, and I’m always calmer than you because you’re like, inherently, not calm. At all, about anything, but especially about your family—’ ‘Okay, this is not calm,’ Tony says, starting to pace, even though he’s not calm either, she’s right. She sighs loudly in his ear. ‘When was the last time you saw him?”

Earthly Dust From Off Thee Shaken by ExpectoPatronum

Summary: “It had started with leaving his bedroom light on at night before he went to sleep. For a while, that had been enough. But then it wasn't.”

“Forever” by WithACherryOnTop

Summary: “Peter could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, like it had only moments earlier in the Avengers Compound bullpen. ‘‘ony.’ ‘Just go to sleep, bud.’ Tony gently scratched his nails at the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter collapsed bonelessly in Tony’s arms, all evidence of the tears, crying, and sobs hidden except for a stained shirt and the boy’s even, congested breaths. Tony wiped a hand over his face, a bit flustered. ‘Wow. That went way worse than I expected." Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and/or Sony. I do not give permission for this work to be copied and/or posted to any other sites.

Gonna Pick Up The Pieces by orphan_account

Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you,’ Peter says. He’s been hiding for the better part of an hour, sitting in the cabin’s laundry room, wedged between the washer and the dryer. Something about the sounds coming off of them calms him, weirdly. The swish of water, the rumble of the motors, cotton rubbing cotton, the button on a pair of jeans dinging the side of the barrel. ‘That’s bullshit,’ Tony says. ‘You always want to talk to me.’ As true as that usually is, this time it rings discordant and tense. Peter clenches his jaw. ‘Not really,’ he says. ‘You just sorta assume that.’ ‘Of course I do. I make for lovely conversation.’ ‘Eh.”

Head’s On The Fritz by augustheart

Summary: "Hello?’ ‘Tony?’ ‘The one and only. What’s up, kiddo?’ The answer rises up in Peter's throat. Stops at the back of his tongue and wobbles there, heavy and leaden. He wants to spit it out, to cough it into the unbearable silence, to not be loud—but, to be steady. ‘I—’ he says. He trembles. ‘Can you—come over? Please?" Or: Tony makes things better

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.”

I Have You by sweetspiderstew

Summary: “Tony has Peter all to himself, and there's nothing else like some good quality time in the workshop, but little mishaps happen, and there's a lot of hugging.”

I’ll Be Right Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter has a nightmare, and Tony goes to be sure he’s okay. It’s not the first one of its kind.”

It Came At Night by Marvelous_Writer

Summary: “What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up." (Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming) Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

It’s Time to Leave (and Turn to Dust) by hopeless_hope

Summary: "We’re going to help you, I promise, but you’ve got to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Peter looks at his mentor, fear written across his face. He raises a shaking hand back to Tony’s chest, and Tony places his hand over the kid’s. Peter closes his eyes and feels the hard surface of the arc reactor against his palm. Peter doesn’t like soft things, but this isn’t soft. It’s solid and steady and strong and feels like a truth he can believe in. It feels like presence. ‘Yeah, I trust you." (In which Peter has trouble coping with the events of Infinity War, but a certain Tony Stark is there to help.)

Meltdown by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary: “You said two-thirty,’ Peter said, acting as if he hadn’t heard Tony. ‘I forgot that you changed it to two thirty and not three.’ Tony took a step towards Peter. ‘Hey, Pete. It’s fine. You’re not that late kiddo. Hell, I’ve been to board meetings hours late.’ The joke didn’t land, and Peter’s eyes started to well with tears. He took in a hiccupping breath. ‘Oh god. I forgot. I forgot." Or: Peter isn't coping after Titan and has been doing everything to keep busy and not think about it. Everything comes to head when he forgets that a time was changed in his busy schedule leading to a meltdown.

Mine, And Yours by crowkag

Summary: “Is it Peter?’ He was met with loaded silence. The anxiety spark became an anxiety plunge and twist. ‘Happy. Is it Peter?’ ‘It’s… well. Who else would it be, right?’ ‘Hogan.’ He hated this. The spark, the plunge, the twist. The tension creeping from his shoulder blades, clawing down arms both flesh and metal, somehow, someway, and bunching up inside his palms. The hysteria of it all. ‘It’s—alright, I won’t sugarcoat it. The kid’s alive, but he got shot, Tony. Twice." Or: Tony reunites with Peter in a less-than-ideal manner.

Relax, Just Breathe by hailfire_73

Summary: “Tony,’ said Peter, lifting his head from the glass, his stubbornness spent. ‘I don’t feel so—’ ‘Do not,’ said Tony, through gritted teeth, and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He had just one hand on the steering wheel as he drove them into the night. ‘Finish that sentence.’ Morgan leaned over, hung out of her booster seat, and whispered, ‘It gives dad attacks." Or: The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Scars Can Heal And Reveal Just Where You Are by parkrstark

Summary: “Jesus Christ, Pete,’ the voice says again, and it's not just a voice. It's a voice that belongs to the shadow. The shadow is light in the dark. It's warm. ‘What are you doing on the floor? You're lucky you're by your bed or else it would have been you breaking my fall.’ Peter blinks at the shadow and can't tell if he's comforted or irritated by the new company. ‘What? No quip about me breaking a hip?’ There's silence. ‘Peter?"

Shots Ring Out by itsluckyyou

Summary: “Peter Parker had training. Training to deal with robbers, petty crime, and possible alien invasions. Nothing could have possibly trained him for this, though." Or: There's a shooter wandering the halls of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The Pills (They Gotta Go) by searchingforstars

Summary: “Tony. What are these?’ Tony glances up. Sees the packs of pills clenched in Peter’s fist. He’s sure some of them must be dust judging by the force that Peter is holding them with. ‘My pills?’ ‘Why are they sitting at the back of the pantry?’ Peter asks, voice dangerously low." Or: Tony decides taking his medication is optional. Peter strongly disagrees.

We All Have A Hunger by MotherKarizma

Summary: “Morgan,’ he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’m just…’ ‘You’re sick.’ She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. ‘I’ll get Daddy!’ ‘No!’ Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five-year-old. ‘No, you don’t have to. I feel better now. You don’t have to tell him.’ Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. ‘Petey…’ Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop. But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: ‘Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?’ ‘But…’ ‘Morgan. Promise.”

We’re Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Comfortember prompt 3: Nightmares Peter has nightmares about when Thanos stabbed Tony on Titan”

Who Needs a Happy New Year When You Can Have a Happy Forever? by searchingforstars

Summary: “Peter's already feeling insecure about his place in Stark family holiday traditions, but it turns out it doesn't really matter because New Year’s Eve is significantly less fun when you’re a pair of PTSD-riddled superheroes, anyway." Or: Tony has a panic attack in a Burger King.

Without You (I Was Broken) by parkrstark

Summary: "How did you get shot? You just webbed me up 5 stories from being shot!’ ‘D-Didn’t know it was coming.’ ‘Dammit, Peter! This isn’t the first time your spidey sense hasn’t worked. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because Rhodey told me I was being insane. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t always working? You shouldn’t go out into battle like this when your powers are being wonky and—’ ‘You’re here.’ ‘What?’ ‘You’re here.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t...I can’t really feel the danger when you’re around."

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bella-itsjustbella · 10 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆｡ ˚ ⋆

Got me spinning like a ballerina Feeling gangsta every time I see ya You're the king And, baby, I'm the queen of disaster

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #hyper feminine #coquette dollete #lana del rey #me #selfie #my face #aesthetic #dark coquette

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ghostsy · 2 years ago

Note

I really liked what you did kirishima , would it be ok to request Yandere kirishima who slowly falls for the reader ? Kinda like a spotted mind , a slow burn Yandere (seriously love what you did with Shinso their ) hope this ok if not no worries 💗

Hero Insurance

WARNINGS: yandere, possessiveness, blackmail, misogyny, nsfw, smut, slight daddy kink, slight size kink, non-consensual implications

A/N: sorry this took so long, hope you enjoy!

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! KIRISHIMA EIJIRO X READER

“We have got to stop meeting like this.”

“When you stop smashing your way through half the city’s architecture, we will.” She didn’t look up from her clipboard to see the sheepish look washing over the hero’s face, cheeks nearly red as his hair, from previous exertion or embarrassment, she didn’t know–didn’t care.

She sighed, but turned to oversee the construction workers picking their way through the rubble–Jesus Christ, this was going to cost a fortune.

She sent a mental apology to the poor insurance accountants who she was sure were as sick of these heroes as she was–nevermind the half-rate villain being led away in chains somewhere in the background, yelling obscenities and threats and contributing significantly to her growing headache. Annoying.

He trailed after her, “Hey, uh,” She spared him a cursory glance, and he swallowed, “Let me…I can totally help pay for this; it’s uh…the manly thing to do.” She rolled her eyes, turning back to watch a crowd gather at the borders of the police tape secured around what was left of the building and its surrounding area.

“That’s hardly necessary, sir–”

“We’ve been over this, call me–”

“Besides, if you were to personally pay for all the property damage you have committed, say, throughout your career,” She scribbled something down on the clipboard, before shoving it in his face, “You would owe the city approximately…this much.”

She swore his eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and was internally amused as he leaned down and followed zero after zero after zero on the paper with his finger. He stood suddenly, clearing his throat, and avoided her gaze.

“Well, I…” He sighed, searching for the words, “I’m sure I could–”

“Oi! Shitty hair,” His savior came in the form of a familiar gravelly voice, “Get your ass over here! I’m sick a’ these damn reporters.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, he gave her a brief nod before hurrying off to the hoards of adoring fans. She rolled her eyes, turning back to inspect the damage. Well…another day, another massive disaster to fix.

.♡.

“I swear if I have to see that chick one more time,” He huffed, downing his drink, “‘M not sure my manhood could take it.”

“You talkin’ about the Ice Queen again?” He glanced towards the peppy blonde man shoving his way through the doors, and into the bar.

“That insurance lady?” The black haired man at his side questioned, “Ain’t it the third time this month she’s been up your shit?” He laughed, “She must be hurtin’ for it, huh?”

He huffed, averting his gaze, “Hardly,” A shiver passed down his spine in remembrance, “Everytime I see her I feel like I’m getting scolded by my grade school teacher or something.”

“Real sexy grade school teacher, though, huh?” The lightning blonde jeered.

He rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I’m the only hero who’s knocked down a building or two, right?” He turned to the other blonde who scoffed.

“Don’t look at me,” He downed a shot, “I avoid the bitch like the plague; I don’t need another asshole slappin’ me on the wrists fer doin’ my job–press does that for her.”

“I just…” He huffed, “I don’t like that she doesn’t like me,” He turned to his friends, “I’m…I’m a likable guy, aren’t I?”

He was met with laughs, making his cheeks burn as he groaned. He waited as they settled before downing another drink. The raven-haired man ruffled his hair in mock comfort.

“Guess you’ll find out just how likable at this year’s Hero Billboards, yeah?”

.♡.

The universe really did like playing some cruel jokes on him lately, huh? He stared up at the soulless glass building that towered over him–a few signatures missing from the insurance forms. Ha. Of course. Hero work ain’t always takin’ down bad guys and savin’ princesses in their towers, kids.

He huffed, and forced himself inside, hands clenching and unclenching as he stood in the elevator, watching the floors climb. In and out.

God, why was he so nervous? A flash of those dull, condescending eyes; he was surprised she hadn’t turned him to stone the second she’d met his gaze. Weren’t women supposed to be meek and soft?

The lady at the reception desk had certainly seemed so; the way she batted her eyelashes, voice coated in sugar–yeah, that made sense to him–when they looked at him all starry-eyes and empty heads.

He tried to imagine the Ice Queen like that–she did have pretty eyes–what would happen if she looked at him with something other than irritation–nope, too creepy, get that out of my head.

He passed by the main room: dozens of nameless heads and shoulders, hunched over their desks, typing away at computers from within their gray cubicles. Depressing. Turning down a hallway he was met with a row of doors–where was her office, again?

The sound of laughter cut through his thoughts. Children’s laughter? As if on cue, a rush of tiny, unsteady footsteps padded across the floor and straight into him–well, his legs. A soft thud and ‘oof’ brought his gaze down.

“I’m sorry! So sorry, Mister Hero!” A small boy was rubbing his head from his fallen place back on the floor. He stood, brushing himself off, before placing his small hands against the man’s legs, mimicking a sort of soothing motion.

“So sorry. This feel better? All better now?”

He went to respond, but a familiar click of heels interrupted, and the Ice Queen was standing in front of him, leaning down to face the child as a sigh escaped from her lips.

Before she could speak he opened his mouth; he really didn’t want to watch her scold the little boy for being…well, a little boy, “It was an accident,” He ruffled the child’s hair, and the latter giggled, “Really, no harm done.”

She glanced up at him from her position crouched on the floor, brows furrowing as her head tilted in confusion, before turning back to the child, “You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”

Oh? This was strange. The look on her face wasn’t stern, and her voice was quieter, softer. Kind of…sweet? He must be hearing things.

“Nope!” The boy popped his ‘p’, giving a big, toothy smile, “But Mister Hero got a boo boo; you gotta kiss it better!”

His face burned. It was hard to imagine anyone, forget that it was a child, talking so warmly with the woman in front of him.

“Mister Hero’s a tough guy,” She told the boy, “Besides, I can only kiss your boo boos better.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” She stood, taking his small hand in her own, “Really. But if you keep running off like that, I’ll run out of kisses. So be more careful. We have to save them for when you really need ‘em, okay?”

“Okay!”

She turned to face him, clearing her throat as she averted her gaze. No. She couldn’t be. Was the Ice Queen, of all people, flustered?

“Sorry for the inconvenience.” She muttered, bowing slightly before motioning with her head towards an office door in the far corner, “I have all the documents in my office; shouldn’t take long.”

He blinked, opening his mouth to respond, but she turned on her heel, shoes clicking down the hallway as the little boy swung their interlocked hands to and fro. Cute.

She held the door open for him, though he still had to hunch as he walked through the opening. He took in the scene: neat mahogany desk, floor to ceiling windows, shelf, children’s toys littering the floor–children’s toys? The little boy detached from the woman, diving towards one of the brightly colored stuffed animals.

The man maneuvered his way towards the desk, slipping slightly when his foot met a toy car. She caught his arm, eyes still avoiding his own, and her face twisted in a frown.

“The daycare closes early on weekends, no one to watch him, I–” She swallowed, arm pulling from his own the second he collected himself, “It’s not usually this messy,” She huffed the words as if they were shameful to admit before composing herself, shaking her head a bit. “The papers are on the desk.” She ushered him forward, sifting through her drawers before taking out a pen, pressing it into his hand.

He cleared his throat, nodding, “It’s–That’s fine,” He leaned down to sign, striking up conversation to fill the painful silence between them, “Is this your, uh, is this your son?”

She shot him a sharp look, and he was sure if looks could kill he’d burst to flames that very moment. He swallowed, flipping the page to add another signature. Through his periphery, he caught sight of a look exchanged between the woman and child before she sighed.

“Yes.” He waited a moment for her to continue only to be met with silence. Wow. A real open book, wasn’t she?

Flipping through the pages, he double checked the signatures. Sighing, he stood, nodding to her, “Sorry about that, thought the agency’d taken care a’ all the paperwork.”

She rolled her eyes, gathering them in her hands, scanning through the pages before taking something from her desk drawer, and stamping the top page. Setting it in a file on the desk, she met his gaze.

“Thank you,” She cleared her throat, “In the future, hopefully we don’t end up in a situation needing to fill out more paperwork.”

Geez, that's cold. “Yeah, uh, sorry again.” He turned to leave, but a tug on his pant leg caught his attention.

“Hey, hey, Mister Hero,” The little boy waved a toy car in his hand, “Wanna play cars?”

“He has things to do, baby,” The woman interrupted, “I can play with you all you want later.”

“But you’re working now!” He huffed, “Please, please, just for a little–”

“I don’t mind.” He surprised himself and her with the words, but a glance to the little boy’s face brought a smile to his own. He always did like kids.

She looked between them, hesitant, teeth chewing her lip before speaking, “It’s really–you don’t have to. Really, it’s–it’s okay.” Who knew she could sound sheepish. He was learning a lot about the Ice Queen today, it seemed.

He plopped on the floor, cross legged as he took the car handed to him, flashing her a smile, “You kidding?” He turned back to the child, “I love playin’ cars.”

The little boy squealed in delight, and in his periphery he caught sight of a soft look in her eyes, “Thank you.” It was quiet, but the ghost of a smile on her face made something in his chest do a little jump.

.♡.

“You received a package from the insurance agency today, sir.”

He glanced towards his secretary, brows furrowed. God, what did he do this time? He rubbed a hand down his face, groaning, but she continued.

“It’s strange,” She tapped her chin, “There was a note attached; I think it was from that lady that doesn’t like you,” A mischievous smile on her lips, “I left it on your desk.”

“Great. Thanks.” He trudged down the hallway to his office; it was too early in the morning for this.

As he pushed the door open he caught sight of it: wrapped neatly in red colored paper, a thin ribbon tying it together. Huh. There was a neat little note attached, his hero name written in pretty cursive on the front.

Please accept this food as thanks.

I appreciate you humoring my son; he really enjoyed spending time with you.

He also wanted me to inform you that you’ve become his new favorite hero.

I was unaware of your food preferences, but I hope this is sufficient.

Only the Ice Queen could manage to make such a kind gesture seem impersonal. Still, he found himself smiling; underneath all that frost and cold she really was a cute little thing, wasn’t she? It was signed with her name at the bottom, and he realized he hadn’t known it until now; it was kind of pretty, he thought.

He pulled the ribbon from the box, and the paper fell away to reveal a neatly stacked bento box. Peeling the top layer, he was met with a mouthwatering smell. Meat. Fancy little dishes prepared delicately, with care. The other levels contained vegetables and sweets, all meticulously decorated. It was a practical gift, he supposed, but still, she’d taken the time to cook him a meal.

How…womanly of her.

.♡.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

She didn’t think she’d ever sprinted so fast in her life, sure she might break a heel, though, not entirely bothered considering the circumstances. A villain attack. At a goddamn preschool. At her son’s goddamn preschool. Fuck.

There it was. Cordoned off with yellow police tape, a crowd was gathering outside the gates, reporters or parents or both, she didn’t really care.

“Kenta! Kenta! My son–have you seen my son? Please–” She elbowed her way to the front of the crowd, flagging down a police officer stationed outside.

“Ma’am, please step back. There is an active villain threat in–”

“My son’s in there, please.”

“There are a lot of parents here; if you’d just step back–”

There was a crash that sounded like a wrecking ball hitting pavement, and everyone watched with bated breath as one of the walls to the building crumbled away, bricks splitting and breaking from the force.

As the dust settled, she watched as a massive figure stepped from the rubble. Wait a minute. Is that…? He was carrying kids from his arms and shoulders, some hanging on with their hands as they dangled from his limbs–he looked like a fucking jungle gym–

“Mama! Mama! Look who’s here!” The unmistakable voice of her son pulled her from her thoughts. From atop the hero’s shoulder, Kenta was waving his arms, giggling as he called to her.

“All clear!” The man shouted, a sharp, toothy smile on his lips as he scanned the crowd, motioning with his head to the nearly collapsed building behind him, “He’s passed out in the southeast classroom, figured I’d gather the kids first.”

The police made their way into the building as he kneeled down to let the children race from the rubble, and into the arms of their parents. She ducked under the yellow tape, eyes set on the little boy sat on the hero’s shoulder.

“Heh. Sorry ‘bout the wall; couldn’t help the –oof!”

Without thinking, she threw her arms around his shoulders, on her tiptoes as she embraced her son, the other hand hooked around the man’s neck, pulling him downwards a bit into a hunch, so that she could reach.

She was shaking a little, and he wasn’t entirely sure where to put his hands, though, glad that she couldn’t see the red creeping up his neck and cheeks. Awkwardly, one of his hands came to pat her on the back, which seemed to bring her back to reality as she stumbled a bit aways from him.

She cleared her throat, holding out her hands, and he shifted so that the boy could shuffle into his mother’s arms.

She checked his face for marks, “Are you okay?” Inspecting his arms for any signs of cuts or bruises, “Did you get hurt?”

He gave a bright smile, “I’m okay!” He giggled a bit, and she set him down, letting him bounce in excitement on the ground, “You shoulda seen it, Mama! He was so cool; the bad guy was like–” He made an angry face, squaring his shoulders, and growled as he brought his hands into a fighting pose, “But then, but then, boom! And then–”

“I want to hear all about it, baby,” She smiled, “But let’s get you home first, yeah? You’ve got dirt all over you.”

“Mhmm mhmm, okay! But it makes me look cool, right?”

“Super cool,” She turned to the hero now, and he swallowed, willing the heat to die on his cheeks, “I’m sorry that I just–I didn’t mean to throw myself on you, but really, what you did–”

“Just the job,” He smiled, hand coming to sheepishly scratch his head, “Happy to do it, honest.”

“No,” she corrected, and he found himself holding his breath as he studied the intensity in her stare. But he didn’t feel like she’d turn him to stone; he kind of felt…warm? “Thank you. Really. I can’t ever repay you for this.”

“Well, you’re probably gonna have to deal with the insurance money and rebuild, so just add it to my tab, and I’ll call us even, yeah?”

There was a small smile on her face, “Consider your tab cleared.” Was his heart pumping so loudly from the adrenaline or because the quirk in her lips made her whole face brighter? Was that her quirk? Could she speed up his pulse, so that his heart beat out of his chest?

He went to say something, but the sound of his hero name being shouted over the police tape–reporters–interrupted.

He sighed, giving her a nod, “Well, duty calls,” He gave her one more glance as he walked away, “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you?” It sounded casual, but he found himself suddenly nervous.

“Well, if you keep smashing your way through half the city’s architecture, you will.” He didn’t know she had a sense of humor, but, spotting the playful glint in her eyes, he found it kind of…cute.

.♡.

“There’s someone here to see you, sir,” His secretary called as he stepped from the elevator, “It’s that insurance lady, again.” She wiggled her eyebrows a bit in teasing, and he found his face warming as he avoided her gaze. Another bento, maybe?

“Thanks, uh, you can let her in.”

“Oh, I already did,” There was a smug smile on her face, “She’s in your office.”

He groaned, ignoring her cheeky laugh as he made his way into his office.

“Oh!” She called after him, “The Commission called. They wanna know if you’re confirming for the Hero Billboards?”

He nodded, waving his hand in placation, “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

Pushing the door to his office open, he found himself staring at her profile; she was half turned away from him, gazing out the floor to ceiling windows, and he almost didn’t want to say anything, lest he disturb the peaceful look on her face.

His eyes wandered her figure; she really was a woman, wasn’t she? In every sense of the word. Remembering how she felt in his arms, soft too. Soft and small and pretty and womanly. His hands itched at his sides. How would it feel to hold her?

Squeezing the skin of her waist, brushing his thumbs over the bones of her hips; it’d be so easy to pick her up, hands sliding down a bit further, throwing her legs around his waist; she was already against the window; what other expressions could he see on her face, then? Shaking himself from his thoughts, he felt a bit embarrassed. But, he was a man; it was normal to think like this about a woman, right?

She caught sight of him as she turned, and immediately a new look took over her face; it wasn’t an expression he entirely enjoyed, however. She looked agitated, upset, and she squeezed at the fat of her arms as she crossed them, nervous.

“We need to talk.” She pulled something from her purse, unfurling it to reveal a tabloid magazine. More specifically, a picture slapped on the cover: the two of them embracing outside the pre-school, his hand placed on her back, making it look like an altogether domestic scene.

And the title: “THE STURDY HERO BREAKING DOWN WALLS AND BREAKING HEARTS; DON’T RIOT, GIRLS, BUT HE’S TAKEN!” Real creative.

He swallowed his nerves, laughing off the tension, “Yeah, I heard about that,” Avoiding her gaze, “I’m real sorry–the tabloids just print whatever sells, ya know?”

“Can you have them retract it?” He was almost offended with how quick she was to shoot it down, “Please,” Sensing his nerves, she sighed, gathering her thoughts, “Kenta is…He’s not ready for this, even if it is just tabloid gossip. Please, can you ask them to retract it?”

“I–”

“Or if not,” She began pacing, “Can you do an interview? Before this gets out of hand, it’d be best to clear things up.”

He approached her, taking her by the arms lightly to stop her pacing. She pulled from his grip, but stood still. He scanned her face as he looked down at her, and a thought too selfish crossed his mind. No. Don’t go there.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” He soothed her; this would be fine, “I’ll tell the press; you don’t gotta worry.”

She let out a sigh of relief, and he bit his tongue. Was it manly of him to just let it lie? In all those romance movies he watched, the guy always fought for the girl. He used whatever elaborate plots he could to show her he was the one. And, I mean, maybe it’d be good for both of them. He needed to figure out why he couldn’t look her in the eyes without imagining bending her over the nearest surface anymore.

“But,” He avoided her gaze, “I, uh, geez, this is embarrassing.”

She tilted her head, but motioned for him to continue.

“The, uh, you know the Hero Billboards are coming up soon?”

“Yes,” She squared her shoulders as her gaze turned suspicious, “What about it?”

“I think if, well, if I ask for a retraction before, it might tank my popularity ranking,” He swallowed, “Which, totally, is just a number–and not a big deal–I just, would you mind…is it unmanly of me to ask you if we could wait until it’s over to tell the press?”

There was a beat of silence, and he cursed himself in his mind. Of course she’s gonna say no. It’s the Ice Queen we’re talkin’ about. Just cause she’s got a kid, and she makes a killer tori katsu, and her ass bounces when she–

“Okay,” She sighed. What? She met his gaze, nodding, “I did say I could never repay you, didn’t I?”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

“But, um,” She swallowed, “Kenta was asking about you,” Avoiding his gaze, she cleared her throat, “Do you think you could, um, do you think you could take him out on patrol? Even just once, I think he’d…if it’s not too much trouble–”

God, she was fucking adorable.

“You kidding?” His lips split in a wide grin, “I’d be honored. He’s, uh, he’s a good kid. You’ve done good.”

“It’s a deal, then.” There was that soft smile again, and on cue, his heart sped its rhythm.

“It’s a deal.”

.♡.

The office felt strangely empty after she left. He couldn’t focus. The lights were too bright. His chair was lumpy. The font on the paperwork was too small. His pants didn’t fit right. Oh. His pants didn’t fit right.

He glanced around the office. It was fine, right? It’d just take a moment. Be real quick. Just to ease the tension. It’d help him focus after, for sure.

Fuck it.

He stood suddenly, shutting the blinds to his office; he was pent up. It was her fault to begin with, really. Settling into his chair, he let out a breath, hand creeping under the waistband of his pants, fingers trailing down from the black hairs to grip at the pulsating, desperate source of his current agony, feeling near immediate relief as he began to stroke.

He wanted to take her against the window, didn’t he?

Her thighs squeezing his waist as his fingers dug into the flesh of her ass, cock buried to the hilt inside what was undeniably warm and tight and hers. He’d fuck her deep and slow at first. Savor the feel of her wrapped around him. Make what she thought was hers irrefutably his; mold her pretty cunt to the shape of him. He wouldn’t be able to keep the pace though, ramming her against the glass walls for all of Japan to see, to hear her scream his name. How would she sound if he sunk his teeth into her neck? What would she call him?

Baby?

Love?

Daddy?

“Oh, fuck.” His thumb stroked the angry red tip threatening to burst in his pants, tightening his vice-grip, fingers flexing along the length. Up and down and up and down to the rhythm he’d fuck her to. Faster and Faster. Harder and harder.

Daddy, please! She’d take her lip between her teeth, try and fail to stifle the sounds he was forcing from her throat. A hand tangled in his hair, tugging to find some sense of relief as he hauled her over his desk to play with the jewel between her legs.

He’d leave a trail of bruises down her chest; take one of her pretty tits in his mouth, playing with the nipple on his tongue. Hips snapping roughly into hers as he felt her pulse quicken, breath choked as her hands came to clutch his shoulders, nails sinking in to ease the tension.

He’d make her beg for it.

“Tell Daddy what you want.” His eyes fell closed, hips bucking into his fist as he imagined it. He’d take his hand to her throat, fingers twitching at the feel of her pumping veins, thumb tracing her jaw as he watched doe eyes dilate. Lose all thought save for anything that had to do with him, and how he was fucking her, and how that feeling pooling in her gut was something only he could give her.

Please, Daddy, please! Let me cum. Can I cum?

She’d cry, pretty tears pooling in her eyes as she tried to hold on. Obey him. Please him. Cum for him. All for him.

“Yeah? You wanna cum? You think you deserve it?”

Yes! Please, Daddy! Please!

Her tits would rock from the force as his desk creaked to the rhythm below them. His tongue darting out to lick at his sharp, drooling canines, completely enamored with the feast moaning prettily underneath him.

He’d lean down, forcing his lips onto hers as his tongue explored inside, devouring the sounds from her throat. And he’d pull back once he was sure he could feel her tighten around him, hot air brushing against her lips when he finally released her.

“Cum for me, baby.”

He’d watch her eyes cross, mouth falling open as the knot in her stomach snapped. That Ice Queen exterior melted and soft and grateful. She’d whimper, and look up at him from under her butterfly lashes with hazy, pleasure-drunk eyes, lips bloated and hair sprawled beneath her like an angel’s halo.

“What do you say, baby?”

Thank you, Daddy. I love you.

Shit. Shit. Shit. He bit his lip, brows furrowing as the slick on his hand made his gut start to tingle. Fuck. His shoulders slumped as he caught his breath, surveying his mess. That’s alright, he thought.

It was her job to clean up his messes, wasn’t it?

.♡.

“Oh,” She blinked as she opened the door, “What time is it? Wasn’t I supposed to meet you at your office?”

Nervously, she glanced over her shoulder to a wall clock in the living room. He huffed an apologetic laugh, doing his best to ignore the way the apron wrapped snugly around her waist hugged her curves, and the splotches of flour that reminded him of the labors of a dutiful housewife.

“Nah, you’re good,” He motioned with his head to the boy sitting atop his shoulders, one hand steadying the child, “Kenta was hungry, and there isn’t much ‘sides energy drinks and granola bars at the agency.”

“We saw a whole buncha bad guys, Mama! They were tryna rob the bank, and–”

“You were inside a bank during a robbery?” He caught the sharp turn in her voice, and was quick to correct the child.

“He was safe behind the barricades,” She stepped aside to let them in, “Got a front row seat, right buddy?”

“Mhmm!” He set the child down, and Kenta raced towards the kitchen, “Smells good! What’s for dinner?”

They shared a look as she shut the door, and let out a sigh, “Thank you,” She swallowed, “I’m…He looks like he had fun, so I’m really–”

“Don’t mention it,” He smiled, “Next week’s patrol route should be safer if he wants to tag along.”

“That’s–you really don’t need to…” Was the flush on her face embarrassment or, or was he finally starting to chip that icy exterior? “Are you sure it’s–”

“Oh yeah,” He glanced towards the boy sifting through cabinets in the kitchen, “Kenta’s my number one sidekick, right?”

“Mm!” The boy turned towards them, face stuffed with some pastry as he hummed.

“Kenta!” She scurried over to him, shutting the lid to the cookie jar, “We’re just about to have dinner; don’t go ruining your appetite!”

“‘M not!” He stifled a laugh as he watched the boy cross his arms petulantly, “I got two stomachs; one for food and then a whole ‘nother big one for desert!”

She smiled lightly as she watched him shove two fingers in her face before putting her hands up in mock concession, “Oh, well, it’s a pity that Mama’s only got one stomach then, huh?” Making her way over to the impressive spread on the dining room counter, “I better dig in while I can.”

She plucked a piece of sushi from one of the platters, and he swallowed as he watched her push it between her lips with her fingers, tongue brushing over the tips as she pulled them from her mouth. He tried to will himself to look away, though, she was entirely too focused on the little boy now jumping for the sushi platter to bother with his own leering.

“Not if I do first!” He watched as the boy practically inhaled the food, attention drawn back at the sound of light laughter. Her hand was covering her mouth, but the twinkle in her eye sent lightning into his heart. Pretty.

He huffed a sigh to calm his racing pulse, “Guess I’ll leave ya to–”

“You gotta stay for dinner!” Face stuffed full with an array of food, Kenta’s words were muffled, “Right, Mama?”

He glanced towards her, taking in her hesitant features. Not yet.

“Ah. That’s alright, I don’t–”

“Stay,” He was taken aback by the softness of the word, “I mean…if you’d like, as a thank you for taking Kenta out, stay.”

Fuck. This woman would be the death of him.

.♡.

“You really didn’t have to do this.” She looked at him through the corner of her eye as she handed him another wet dish to towel off.

“Nah, I owe ya for that killer dinner,” He paused, “Come to think of it; I owe ya for the bento too, Ms. Pro Chef.”

She rolled her eyes playfully before turning back to the sink, and the two settled into a comfortable silence before she paused, mouth twisting a bit as her brows furrowed.

“I appreciate everything you’ve done for Kenta,” She let out a sigh, turning to face him as she shut the tap, “But um, this is, a bit…” She motioned around the kitchen, the wholly domestic scene, “Hero Billboards or not, the two of us aren’t actually…”

He watched as she struggled to find the words, “‘Course not,” Stamping out the sprouting disappointment in his chest, he plastered on that hero smile, “But what’s a dinner between friends, right?”

He watched as the trepidation melted off her face. Was the thought of being with him really that bad? Shaking himself from his thoughts he sighed as he watched her maneuver behind him to start reshelving the cutlery and plates.

“Yeah. Friends.” She sent him a soft smile, and he found himself the slightest bit surprised that it hadn’t melted his heart on cue. He wanted more.

She was bent over the counter in a way too sinful to be a coincidence. Was she testing him? Waiting for him to take initiative, prove to her that he was a man? He wouldn’t leave her high and dry the way so many others in her life seemed to–he could be that guy for her.

Eyes trailing to the swell of her backside, he spotted her dress lifted slightly at the fat of her thighs. Would she look at him then? If he took her by the hair, forced her cheek to the counter, smushed her pretty tits against it, and ripped the cotton panties down her legs?

He was sure, looking down at her; she was so small. She’d fucking wail when he forced his cock through her walls. Maybe he could see himself poking through under the skin of her stomach: full of him.

He’d destroy her.

Ruin her for anyone and everyone else. How many times had she chided him for his reckless behavior, for the destruction his hands had wrecked?

He’d repay her tenfold. Those hands could do more than destroy. They’d make her cum again and again and again. Until the only thought running through her mind was him and how good he was fucking her and how goddamn grateful she was to be fucked by, to be loved by, him.

The call of his name brought him back from his thoughts, and he looked over to meet her concerned eyes.

“Are you alright?” She closed the gap between them, and lifted to her toes, tapping his shoulder to bring him down a bit before she pressed her hand to his forehead, “You’re a little flushed; are you sick?”

Well, with you this close to me, I fucking might be.

He straightened suddenly, “Nah,” Letting out a sheepish laugh, “Must be the long hours. Hero work ain’t always the most forgivin’, I guess,'' He huffed a sigh, “I should get goin’ though, yeah?”

“Yeah,” She watched as he made his way to the door, “Okay.”

“I’ll be by some time to take Kenta out on patrol, if that’s still alright?”

She nodded as he slipped his shoes on, and was left a bit confused at the abrupt close to the evening with the click of her front door falling shut.

He let out a breath as he closed the door, leaning against the wood to regain his composure as his hand ran through his hair. He could do this. He stretched his arms over his head as he headed down the steps of her porch.

The cold night air soothed the warmth in his cheeks, but it seemed that a fire more insatiable had been lit in his chest. He strolled casually down the sidewalk, eyes trained up at the grinning moon, making sure to hide the mirroring smirk that pulled at his lips as the camera flashed from the bushes. Right on cue.

.♡.

“I need to get a new secretary.” He joked as he shut the door to his office, catching sight of the woman in his office.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” Her mouth was set in a line, hands pulling nervously at her sleeves as her arms crossed.

What?

She began pacing, “I’m really sorry,” She avoided his gaze, “I know you’ve done a lot for Kenta, for me, and I can pay you back with however much you–”

“Woah, woah,” He approached her, stopping her nervous pacing, “What’s goin’ on? Tell me what happened.”

She sighed, looking up to meet his gaze, and he noticed for the first time eye bags forming on her face.

“Paparazzi are showing up to Kenta’s preschool,” She huffed, “Taking pictures of him playing outside, trying to ask him questions.”

His eyebrows raised a bit in shock, but he softened his gaze, “I’m so sorry,” He went to guide her to sit down, “I’ll take care of it, promise.”

He didn’t like where this was going. So she wasn’t in love with him yet. Okay. He just needed more time. She couldn’t leave.

She pushed his hand off her shoulder, “It’s not just that,” She swallowed, “They’re everywhere, at my office, at the daycare, anywhere we fucking go; they’re even showing up at the house.”

“It’s oka–”

“How do they even know where I live?” Her brows knit together, “You know there are pictures of you leaving? At night?”

“I didn’t–”

“Do you know how indecent that makes me look?” She rubbed her hands down her face, breathing out his name, “I’m already a single mother; I don’t need the entirety of Japan questioning any more of my integrity, certainly not questioning my son.”

Wouldn’t most women be flattered by the attention? Whatever; he needed to end this before it got out of hand.

“You’re right,” He placated, “Look,” He sighed, “The Hero Billboards are next week,” Just a little longer and they’d be there; she just wasn’t ready yet, “We only gotta have one more public appearance, and–”

“Public Appearance?” Her voice turned sharp, “You want me to be your fake date, in front of the whole country, just so you can save your ranking?” Her eyes flashed in accusation, “Have you been listening to what I–”

“Enough,” Fuck, he was getting fed up. Didn’t she know how much he cared about her? How much he did for her? “I have been listening; it’s your turn.”

“Excuse me–”

He stepped forward, backing her against the window, and an uneasy look settled on her face. Was this what it took? He just needed to show a little dominance. Be the man. And she would listen. He placed his hand above her on the glass as he leaned down.

“One more week,” Bringing his other hand to her face, one finger outstretched, “That’s all I’m askin’.”

She went to open her mouth, but he shushed her. Oh. This felt kinda good. The way she was looking at him. Hanging on to his every word because, right now, he had the power.

“I’m not done,” He breathed, “One more week. I’ll take care a’ the paparazzi. I’ll take care a’ everything. So–”

Her mouth twisted, a conflict growing in her eyes, but she forced the words in spite of it, “I don’t need you to take care of it. I don’t need you to take care of me. I need you to–”

“Oh, you don’t?” His tone turned mocking, and his teeth bit into his lip as he watched her swallow, “Let’s ask Kenta how much he needs me, why don’t we? You really gonna–”

“You are not his father.” The words were firm, but the tensing of her shoulders betrayed her, and he leaned closer.

“I’m the closest thing he’s got, baby.”

The shock washed over her features before settling on anger. Cute. She pushed him off her. Well, he let her. She was such a weak little thing, after all.

“So this is who you are?” She scoffed, “This,” She motioned between them, “Is over. I refuse to entertain whatever misogynistic tirade you’ve decided to indulge in.” Okay. Less cute.

She made her way to the door, glancing briefly over her shoulder, “Do not attempt to contact me or my son again.” And she was gone.

Well shit.

His tongue smacked against his teeth as he kept his gaze on the door. He was tryna show her that he was the man. He could take care of her, of everything. All she had to do was shut the fuck up and let him. Does she know how many women would kill for that?

He’d earned it. He’d done so much. He’d tried being patient. Tried to go at her pace. Be a gentleman. But, he realized, brats don’t want gentlemen. That’s what she was after all. What she’d always been, he realized. Ice Queen. Queen? The thought made him want to laugh now.

Is that what she wanted? For him to take her over his knee, smack that pretty ass ‘till it was black and blue? Make her cry for her Daddy? Put her in her goddamn place; wash out all her sharp, angry words with his cock shoved down her throat.

Force her to her knees?

Okay. He could do that.

.♡.

“What do you mean someone picked him up?”

“Well,” The preschool teacher swallowed nervously, “He said that you had–”

“He?” Her blood went cold, and in a quiet voice, she breathed his name in question.

“Yes!” The other woman smiled, “So you did approve of–”

She didn’t hear the rest of the words, blood rushing in her ears. She felt sick. What was going on? What kind of joke was this? She stumbled her way out of the gates, collapsing against them outside. Nauseous.

She tried to calm her breathing. He was still a hero. A fucking asshole with no sense of boundaries. But a hero. Right?

She took her hands to her cheeks, smacking herself to calm down. She let out a breath, swallowing the tears as she fumbled through her purse for her phone.

Ring ring! Ring ring! Ring–

“He–”

“Where do you get off?” She couldn’t help the words that spilled from her throat, “Kenta is my son; what you’re doing is essentially kidna–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” She could hear the smugness in his voice, and cursed herself for allowing herself to think for one second he might have been a decent human being.

“Where is–”

“Is that Mama?” She heard the excited voice of her son, and her breath hitched.

“Kenta? Kenta! Where are–”

“Yup!” He interrupted, “Don’t worry, bud. We’ll be seein’ Mama real soon, right?”

“Mhmm!” Came the muffled reply. So she wasn’t on speaker. Good.

“If you don’t tell me where he is right now,” The words were shaky, “I’ll call the fucking cops.”

There was a beat before a deep, baritone laughter filled her ears. He sighed, and she could feel the goddamn smile on his face.

“Hey, Kenta!” He called, “You wanna tell Mama what we’re doin?”

“S’ a surprise!”

“Hear that?” He turned back to the phone, “It’s a surprise. Don’t you worry, Mama,” He exhaled a bit through his nose, “We’ll be home for dinner.”

“What are you–”

And the line went dead.

Fuck. Fuck. Fucking goddamn shitfuck.

She was shaking with anger as she lowered the phone, scared that if she so much as breathed she’d scream so loud it’d bulldoze half of Tokyo.

What the fuck was she going to do?

.♡.

There was a knock at the door, and she ripped it open, shocked it hadn’t fallen from the hinges. She looked up to meet his eyes, something playful twinkling in them. Did he think this was a joke?

“Mama, Mama!” Her gaze was pulled down to the little boy clutching the man’s hand, “Guess what? Guess what?”

“Ah,” He sighed, “Remember, bud. It’s a super special surprise.”

Kenta looked up at him as if realizing something before humming happily. She swallowed as she glanced between them, settling her gaze on the hero.

“Kenta,” Eyes still locked with burning red, “Why don’t you go clean up before dinner?”

“Mkay!” And he bounded off towards his room. When she heard the slam of his door, she let out a sigh, and swallowed, steadying her nerves.

“What the absolute fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Language, sweetheart.” He sidestepped her, making his way inside, shutting the door behind him.

“Lang–?” He wasn’t serious, “Who do you think you—”

“Shouldn’t curse in front of Kenta,” He smiled, “It’ll teach him bad habits, y’know?”

Oh my god she’d never wanted to punch someone as much as she did now. She forced herself to breathe before settling.

“You don’t need to worry about Kenta’s habits,” He yawned, and she fought the urge to scream, “I want to know what you’re doing in my house, picking my son up from school like you–”

“That’s a funny way a’ sayin’ thank you for the favor.”

“Are you–”

“I know how busy you get,” He moved towards her, and she took a step back, and another until she hit the wall. Not again. “Wanted to give you a break. What’s the harm in that?”

He was looking down at her like that again. Like there was a game they were playing where only he knew the rules. Where he was winning.

“The harm,” She forced herself to speak, “Is that I gave you explicit instru–”

“Y’know,” He leaned back a bit, head tilted to the ceiling before snapping his eyes back to her, “Women are so complicated. Never sayin’ what you mean, what you need–”

“Let me be very clear, then,” She breathed, “Get out.”

He looked at her a moment, and she cursed the universe for not gifting her an invisibility quirk. Any quirk, actually. She was sure that, if he wanted, he could kill her without so much as blinking.

And then he laughed. She stood, frozen, studying his expression before his lips fell into a smirk. In a flash, his hand met her throat, squeezing the air from her lungs, and lifting her to her tiptoes. Her own hands flew up to claw at his, choking on her breath. His face was in front of hers, nose to her own.

“I’m gettin’ real sick of bein’ told what to do,” The edges of her vision were going black as his hot breath met her face, “I think you owe me an apology, baby.”

There were tears forming in her eyes, and she nearly, stubbornly, thought she’d rather pass out than give him the satisfaction. But the distant sound of running water forced her lips to move.

“So–Sor–Sorry, ple-please–”

He released her, and she doubled over, falling into a coughing fit, hand clutching at her own throat, sure of the forming bruises. He huffed a sigh, as if somehow she was inconveniencing him.

He leaned down again as she straightened against the wall. And he smiled. What was–

Before she could blink, his lips were pressed against her own. Her hands came to push at his chest, but he pulled back before she could move. He huffed a laugh, ruffling her hair.

“All good?”

All good? She forced down the protests, and nodded. She didn’t know this man. Didn’t know what he could do.

“It’s gettin’ kinda late, huh?” She realized after a moment that he was looking for an answer.

“I–Yes, I–” She cleared her throat of the raspiness, “I guess it is.”

He stretched his arms over his head, “Think I’ll stay the night, that okay?”

Fucking bastard. She went to open her mouth, but the sound of small footsteps padding against the floor caught her attention. She turned to see Kenta, hair dripping, in his matching set pajamas, making his way into the room.

“Hey, bud,” The man turned to him, “Guess what?”

“What?” He tilted his head.

He smirked as he glanced back at her, “We’re havin’ a sleepover.”

“Really?” Kenta jumped a bit in excitement.

His eyes were still on her. Red and burning and waiting.

She cleared her throat, “Real–Really, baby, if,” She glanced nervously between them, “If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah! We’re gonna have so much fun!”

“So much fun,” The man confirmed, “Right,” Looking around, he made his way to the dining room table, “What’s for dinner?”

.♡.

“Damn,” He whistled from behind her, hands rubbing up her sides, settling on her hips, “You tryna steal my brand?”

He huffed a laugh, lips falling to a smirk as his face fell to her neck, eyes trailing her figure in the mirror in front of them.

“Guess red is your color now, baby.” His nose brushed against her neck as he raised his head, taking in a breath, and pressed a wet kiss to her cheek.

She tried her hardest not to cringe, managing to keep her disgust contained with the clench of her jaw. The dress was beautiful; she would have felt beautiful had anyone else on the planet gifted it to her, but they didn’t, and she didn’t. There was a much too revealing slit running up one of the sides of the dress. With fabric skin tight and blood red, she felt more like someone’s dress-up doll than a person.

“This is it, right?” She sighed, meeting his eyes in the mirror, her own expression dull, tired, “You get your rank boosted, and that’s it. We’re done. Right? ”

She knew logically, in the far back of her mind, that this was about something entirely more sinister than simply a number as inconsequential, as temporary as a hero rank. The crimson eyes in the mirror glowed with a feeling she could only attribute to possession.

But, stupidly, naively, she was clinging to some hope, any hope, that that was what he wanted. Because if it wasn’t, if he wanted any more, she feared she’d break to pieces on her bedroom floor. And if she allowed herself even a second, and the cracks appeared, she’d be burdening her son with the shattered mess that would be her resolve.

So she wouldn’t break. If only to keep that bright smile on Kenta’s face, eyes innocent, shield him from anything and everything big and bad in the world like a mother would. Like a mother should.

She wouldn’t break.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” He sighed, a sleazy smile still on his lips as his hands began to move, to grope, “After tonight; we won’t have to play pretend anymore.”

One arm wrapped around her middle, pulling her tight against him, something poking at her back. His other hand traveled downwards, fingers slipping past that easy access slit, and–

“Mama, mama, look!” As quickly as he pulled her to him, he stepped away, turning to the little boy bounding through the door.

“You like the suit, bud?” How generous he was, he’d reminded her. He had all the money in the world to take care of them. She just had to let him. As if it were that easy. Asshole.

But she swallowed the anger, sending a soft smile to her son, taking in the child standing tall and proud in his small, tailored suit, grinning up at them for approval. At them. She faltered a bit before willing the nausea away.

“Wow,” She sighed, making her way to Kenta, crouching down as she fixed his red tie. The three of them really did look like a matching set, didn’t they? “Who’s this handsome man? Have you seen Kenta? I can’t seem to find him!”

“It’s me! Kenta! Here, I’m right here!” He squealed, waving his arms a bit in front of her.

“No,” She smiled wryly, “Kenta likes to come home covered in dirt lookin’ super cool.”

“Well now I’m all dressed up and super cool!” He crossed his arms petulantly, and she relented, laughing lightly.

“Oh, silly me,” She stood, having fixed his tie, “Of course, only Kenta could look this cool.”

“Mhmm!”

The low laughter behind her was like ice water in her veins. Right. He was still here. He came up behind her, arm wrapping around her hips as he smiled down at her son.

“You all ready, bud?”

“Yup!” Kenta jumped excitedly, “And I remembered, just like you said! I got the–”

“Surprise, kiddo.” The man hummed.

“Oh,” Kenta’s eyes widened before nodding intently, “Right. Surprise.” She didn’t want to dwell on the way her son looked at the man beside her with the reverence of something like a father.

The hero sent him a wink, and the little boy gave him a mismatched eye blink in response. She clenched her jaw, fingernails digging into her palms. Days. Days, and he hadn’t budged on this surprise of his. She felt like she’d throw up if she thought about it too long. So she forced it to the back of her mind.

She couldn’t break.

He turned back to her, fingers squeezed at the fat of her waist, thumb brushing affectionately against the fabric.

“You ready?”

.♡.

The lights flashing in her face left her feeling dizzy, and clutching tightly to the man by her side as they stepped from the limo. Blindly, she grasped for her son’s hand behind her as they marched forward, through the chaos.

They stopped in front of a row of reporters. A press line, she realized grimly. She let her mind wander as he fielded questions about the upcoming hero ranking announcement, chuckling lightly as reporter after reporter speculated about the nature and history of their relationship. About the oh so adorable little boy bouncing at their side.

He waved them off after a while, “I’m real sorry!” Sheepishly, a hand came to scratch at his head, “But, the little lady’s not used to all the cameras just yet.” Yet? No, push it down. Smile, she reminded herself, glancing at her son, who was rocking on his heels back and forth beside her. Oblivious. Good.

He huffed an apologetic laugh as the crowd protested, “‘Sides, we’d better get inside,” He threw a disarming smile over his shoulder, a hand raised to the crowd, “Wish me luck!”

They made their way inside, and she scanned the room, Kenta gasping next to her at the gathering of heroes. His heroes.

They made their way to their seats, and she recognized a few of the heroes gathered around them. She zoned out as a few of the men shoved her hero by the shoulder, jeering at him for finally settling down. A few of the women cooing over Kenta; how quaint! God, she wanted to scream.

She was brought back to reality when the grip on her hand turned deadly. Wincing, she turned towards him.

“I’m sorry,” She forced a sheepish smile, “Guess I’m just a little overwhelmed. What was the question?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the suspicious gaze of that ash blonde hero. The one who blew the city to bits every chance he got. He scoffed as he sized her up, turning away, downing his drink. She swallowed, turning away in unease.

“How’d this oaf convince ya, huh?” The lightning blonde laughed, “Money? No way a chick as hot as–oof!” One of the women, that pink hero, she recognized, elbowed him in the stomach, and the man doubled over, spitting up his drink, “Shit! What was that for?”

She turned away from the interaction as the woman began to scold him, and a few others took the opportunity to ask about her relationship to their friend.

How’d you get together?

Yeah! Tell us everything!

Where’d he take you on your first date?

It wasn’t the gym, right? Please tell me it wasn’t the gym!

And more. Her cheeks hurt from the forced quirk of her lips, fingers aching under the table from the deathgrip her tormentor had on her hand. She gave them the answers she thought appropriate.

He saved my son’s life.

Just a casual dinner. Nothing big.

His grip relented a bit, and she sighed. Kissing her on the cheek, he leaned back, a lovesick glaze overtaking his eyes that even his friends seemed to notice, because the jeers started up again.

“Alright, alright,” He placated with a smile, “You got your answers. Quit scarin’ the lady, already.”

They protested lightly, but settled. Just in time. The lights started to dim, and a spotlight shone on stage. The entirely too enthusiastic announcer began to speak, hyping up the crowd at the fast approaching ranking release.

As the minutes ticked by on the clock, she realized his name hadn’t been called yet. Most of the heroes at her table had sat by in silence so far. And then the host flashed a knowing smile, reminding the crowd of the moment they’d been waiting for.

The Top Ten.

Oh. Was that it? If he was in the top ten, would that mean she did her job? Served her purpose. Would he leave her be, then?

She turned to watch Kenta, whose eyes were glued to the stage, wide in awe, ears hanging on every word. She selfishly wished he wouldn’t become one of those people who worshiped the hero society she’d found herself trapped in.

But she could see it happening in real time, she supposed. The way he clung to the man who’d saved him from the rubble. The merch and toys that now littered their home, posters plastered around his bedroom walls. The way his eyes seemed to light up at the mention of his favorite hero’s name. She could almost hear the moment her heart started to crack.

All of a sudden, the people around her stood up, screaming. Kenta jumped to his feet, hands raised in the air as an open-mouthed smile overtook his face.

No. 8 Hero.

No. 8.

He reached a hand around her back, twirling her towards him, dipping her as his lips forced themselves on hers, tongue shoved down her throat. The cheers only erupted further. As she was pulled back to her feet, dizzy and unfocused, she barely registered as he made his way to the stage, bowing in thanks.

The rest of the names flew by in a blur, a few of his friends stepping up to join him as the list reached its end. But she paid no mind. It was over now. Right?

It was over. Could it please be over?

.♡.

They were outside again, and the cold night air nipped at her skin. Ushered back into the press line, she watched him desperately as he began to speak to reporters.

What an honor. I wasn’t expecting this. I’ll do my best to earn it!

She wanted to laugh until she screamed. But she was waiting. Waiting for him to say it. Release her. Release them. Say it. Please, say it.

“I owe it to all the support I’ve got behind me.” He smiled, squeezing their interlocked hands, “I really am the luckiest guy in the world, Number 8 or not.” No.

“There isn’t anything I can do to thank her,” He sighed, letting out a sheepish laugh, “But, I did prepare a little surprise.”

He turned to glance at Kenta, “We had a little surprise, actually.” Not that. Don’t say that.

The crowd awed, cooing at the scene, reporters on the edge of their seats, eager to hear more. She knew it was coming. She knew it. And yet, still, some part of her, some stupid part of her grasped for that single thread. She couldn’t fall. If she fell, she’d break.

“You ready, bud?” Stop it. She was starting to lose her grip on the thread.

“Mhmm!” Kenta hummed, fumbling for something in his pocket. “Right here!”

The thread was fraying. His small hands produced a velvet red box, and the crowd took a breath. She watched as her son reached past her, handing the weapon to the perpetrator. She hadn’t the time to process the burning betrayal in her chest. Because suddenly, she was falling.

And then he kneeled, looking up at her imploringly, that twinkle in his eyes sparkling. He’d finally won that game of his that only he was playing. Further down and down. And–

“Will you marry me?” That shark toothed smile flashed up at her; she felt the fangs ripping her heart to shreds.

And she shattered.

#yandere bnha #yandere kirishima #yandere kirishima eijiro #yandere kirishima eijirou #yandere mha #yandere kirishima x reader #yandere eijiro #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere x reader #yandere x you #kiri is feral for milfs you can't convince me otherwise

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sweetmelvillefawn · 2 months ago

Text

tysm for the tag ♡🧸 @yayohexkitten !!

my top 10 unreleased lana songs (not in order)

1. every man gets his wish

2. bbm baby

3. sparkle jumprope queen (put me in a movie)

4. come with me

5. prom song (gone wrong)

6. beautiful player

7. queen of disaster

8. wayamaya

9. 1949

10. hollywood's dead

୨୧ tags: @bambiieyeddoll @angel1sm @angelcakedoll @poutdollita @candydollita @sweetestgirlblogger @angelwngd @bambi2008 @babyd0ll4 @ballerinainterrupted @deariesusu @fawnedoll @irlcupcake @littleesparklejumpropequeenn @livingbbydollita @lolidolli @milklaceangel @phantompainsprincesss @queenofdisasterxoxoo @sugarwish @swanbiblee @slavicbabydoll227 @trashmagic-333 @vanillacinnablog @yourdearestdolly

#coquette girlblog #lizzy grant unreleased #tag game♡#moots ♡

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dragon-kazansky · 1 year ago

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Spirit of the sea

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

You were a member of Blackbeard's crew long ago. Then you became a ghost story. Izzy Hands only sees you in his dreams these days, until he sees you for real when investigating Stede Bonnet. This sets him on a rollercoaster of emotions between you and what his captain is doing.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: Swearing. Mostly Izzy, sometimes you, but mostly Izzy. Angst too.

Chapter Five - Rocky waters

♡♡♡

We've been almost a fortnight aboard the Revenge... and I'm beginning to suspect that Edward nas no intention of ending Stede Bonnet's life.

If I didn't know better... I'd say he's somehow become seduced by this imbecile.

You catch Izzy writing in his journal as you walk past his cabin. He had been rather quiet the past couple days, at least as far as you were concerned anyway. He hasn't noticed you in the doorway. You smile at the sight of the wooden sparrow on his desk. You knew he would like it.

You know that the longer Izzy is aboard this ship, the worse it gets for him. You've kind of adapted to the way the crew do things round here. It's a change of pace from your days on Blackbeard's crew.

As Izzy scribbles away, you decide to interrupt gently. With a soft knock to his already open door, you smile as he lifts his head to look at you. He snaps his journal shut and drops it beside him on his cot.

"What do you want?" He asks, trying to look annoyed by your interruption, but you can see through him.

"Thought I'd come check on you. Everything good?"

"Just peachy," he let's out an exasperated sigh. You chuckles softly as step into the room with one foot.

"We'll be off this ship soon. Sailing back aboard the Queen Anne leaving ruin in our wake. Doing things we used to do."

Izzy stares silently into space at the thought.

You step a little closer to his bed and take a seat. You can see how tired he is. The man never seems to stop: always working, never resting.

"When was the last time you slept?" You ask him.

"Last night."

"All night?"

He eyes flicker up to meet yours. He looks less than impressed, but he also can't hide anything from you. The sigh that escapes his nose tells you enough.

"I know you hate it here, and that you want Blackbeard back so we can return to our ship and our life, but you also need to give it time, Izzy."

"It's been a fucking weeks."

"I know, but surely he has a plan. He's our Blackbeard."

"That's the problem," Izzy starts. "I don't think he's our Blackbeard anymore. I think he's been seduced by Bonnet."

"Seduced?"

"Last night... last night I was up on deck. I could hear them. They were... I'm pretty sure they were fucking."

"Out in the open?" You ask, wide eyed.

"Sounded like it."

"Ew, Izzy, why were you listening to them?"

"It wasn't on purpose!" He groans. "I think Edward might be... in love with this guy."

You fall silent as you think about it. It made sense in a way. Edward was always where Stede was. They kept in the same cabin. They talked constantly. They were always looking art each other.

"Well shit..."

"Exactly!" Izzy huffs.

"I mean... Is it that bad if he is?" You ask him.

Izzy stares at you. "Bad? It's a fucking disaster."

You gaze down at your lap. "He's the happiest I've seen him in ages."

"It's pathetic."

You glance up at Izzy. "Love? Or the fact you're losing Blackbeard to Bonnet?"

Izzy glares at you.

You stand up from his bed and move over to the door. You glance back at Izzy. "I would be so lucky to have what they do."

Izzy watches you leave. He stares confused at the space you occupied only moments ago. Your words and the expression on your face, it felt strange to him. What did you mean by that? Were you jealous of Edward? No, that was nonsense. Izzy knows you better than that.

Izzy thinks he knows you better than that.

♡♡♡

One of the crew's favourite things to do was tell stories. If it wasn't Stede reading them a fairytale, it was telling ghost stories.

It was entertaining, even if they didn't always make sense.

You were sat on the steps near where Izzy stood with Ivan and Fang. You could hear them talking behind you. You were watching Ed where he sat by Stede. The latter was telling one of his ghost stories.

"So, is the plan off?" Ivan asks.

"Yeah, I reckon we're not killing this guy now." Fang chimes in.

"The plan is very much alive." Izzy says. "He promised me."

You listen to them.

"It just seems that he's having an awfully nice time," Fang says, looking at Izzy. "I mean, look at him. He's telling ghost stories."

"This is the most open and available I've ever seen him." Ivan states.

You sigh and get up, walking last the crew and heading below deck. Izzy watches you go, not once looking away until you were out of sight.

♡♡♡

You're sitting in your dark little corner when you head footsteps coming toward you then stopping. You don't have to look up to know it's Izzy.

"You alright?" He asks.

"Yeah."

He sees the way you're sitting with your knees up, arms draped over them. You're not even looking at him. He sighs quietly.

"You're not. What is it?"

"Nothing, Izzy."

"You can talk to me, ya know."

You glance up at him. You can't read him for his blank expression. You're not sure what he is trying to do.

"What happens if Edward doesn't kill him?"

"Then I'll take matters into my own hands."

"Will Edward even let you?" You ask.

"Does it matter? We'll get our captain back and we can go back to our lives. We... we can be a crew again."

"We're not a crew now?" You gaze up at him.

"Not with this lot."

You turn your eyes away from him and Izzy exhales through his nose in a sound of slight desperation. He doesn't want you to turn away from him.

He says your name softly. "This isn't our home."

When you say nothing he clenches his jaw and walks away. You listen to his footsteps fade. When you're sure he's gone you sigh.

♡♡♡

You stand on deck the next morning as the ship is shrouded in fog. The crew of the Revenge have no idea what's going on, but you sailed with Blackbeard long enough to know.

A Fuckery, as he liked to call it.

You lean against the railing of the ship as you wait. Once Stede arrives, dressed in pretty pyjamas and gown, Edward demonstrates the art of "Fuckery", which leads to the Swede jumping over the side of the ship.

Ed promptly stops his theatrics so someone can get the Swede back onboard.

Izzy promptly comes out, looking up at Ed who is still hanging from the mast. "May I have a word?" He asks, grabbing at Blackbeard's boot.

"It's a bit like theatre, isn't it, Ed? Theatre of fear!"

"Ha, theatre of fear, love that!" Ed grins back at Stede.

"His name is Blackbeard, dog!"

"Well, I'll leave you to it. It looks like there's trouble in paradise." Stede walks off.

You stick around just long enough to see Izzy try and help Ed, but he gets fed up after being caught between his legs. Izzy storms off leaving Edward hanging.

Ed looks at you.

"Help?"

You shake your head and walk off too. He can get out of his own mess.

You follow Izzy to find him with Fang and Ivan. He looks at you as you get closer to him. There is something about the way he is looking at you that sends your heart thumping.

"Where's Blackbeard?" He asks.

"Hanging out."

Izzy doesn't react, but Fang giggles and Ivan grins.

"You with us?" Izzy asks.

"Izzy..."

"No. It's important that I know you're with us," he says. "You don't want to stay with this lot, do ya? You're so much more than they are. You're wasted on a crew like this." Izzy speaks softly, almost gentle. This isn't like him at all.

"Why is this suddenly about me?"

"I-"

Izzy is cut off by Edward entering. You turn around to see him looking less than impressed.

"You left me hanging." He looks at you with a flat expression. You don't even react. "What the fuck's all this?"

"Do you remember your policy about let's aboard your vessel?" Izzy asks.

"Pets? Yeah. No pets. They befoul the ship."

"You know what else you said?" Ivan asks. "You said the love of a pet makes a man weak."

"I said that?"

"Yeah, when I joined your crew, you made me put my dog down." Fang tells him.

"Yeah, OK. Well, yeah, vaguely... remember that."

"So, here's the rub. Me and the boys, we think you've begun to view Bonnet as a sort of a pet." Izzy says. "You're in too deep, Edward. Beat thing to do, end it quick."

"The longer you wait, the harder it gets..." Fang says, getting upset. Ivan holds Fang as he cries.

You stand between Izzy and Edward, not sure what to do. Edward walks off, making it a bit easier on you.

Izzy turns his eyes to you and then follows Edward out.

You look at Fang and step closer.

"There there, Fang. It's okay."

"He's in doggy heaven, Fangy," Ivan says, trying to comfort him.

"But we go to different heavens!" He cries some more. You pat him on the shoulder. Fang turns and pulls you into a hug.

You stay there awhile.

♡♡♡

You sit on Izzy's bed and wait for him. He takes a while to return, but when he does, he seems surprised to see you there.

"I was looking for you," he says.

You're sat on his bed with the wooden sparrow in your hand. You notice some detail has been added to it in ink, meaning Izzy is giving it some character. It made you happy to think this meant something to him.

"I've been in here."

Izzy watches the way you handle the gift you made him. You're being very careful with it, your finger tracing over the ink lines on the wing.

"You know I'm right," he says.

"Do I?"

Izzy closes the door to his cabin and stands in front of you, gazing down at you with his dark eyes.

"Bonnet has to go."

"Do you hate Edward being happy?" You ask

"No, I-"

"Because it seems like it," you cut him off. "Edward has found someone new. He's trying new things and kind of just enjoying life."

"We're pirates, we're not meant to enjoy life." Izzy hisses out.

"You didn't enjoy being on Blackbeard's crew?" You ask.

"Well, yeah."

"You don't enjoy sailing the seas?"

"Course I do-"

"You don't enjoy life?"

He falls quiet.

"Are you jealous that all of Edward's attention is on someone else, or are you jealous that he has something you don't?"

Izzy stares at you silently.

You put the bird back on the desk and stand up, looking Izzy in the eye. You want to say more, but you're not sure what. Izzy seems to read your mind.

"It will be over soon," he tells you. "Tomorrow night."

"Oh. So, that's it then?" You ask.

"Thought you'd be happy."

"Happy?" You huff. "You're the one who will be happy, Izzy."

"Don't tell me you're soft for Bonnet too," Izzy almost begs.

"I don't hate the guy like you do. He's actually kind of nice. He's kind, polite, funny if even unintentionally so."

"See, that's my point. He ain't a pirate."

"Izzy. Let the man live. He's doing his thing and he's still alive."

"Not on my watch," he says in a low voice.

You see the look in his eyes and you walk away. You're done trying to change his mind. This thing with Stede was between Izzy and Edward.

You weren't going to get involved.

♡♡♡

You walk into the kitchen to find Fang holding an unconscious Lucius down. Roach is sharpening a kitchen knife.

"The fuck?"

Fang looks up. "His finger is infected."

You lean over Lucius to see the state of his hand. His finger was horribly swollen. "Ouch."

"Seems to me the best move here is... amputation," Roach says, looking closely at the finger.

"Oh, for God's sake! He's a visual artist." Fang cries out. "You can't cut the boy's little fingies."

"Level with us, man." Pete grabs Roach. "There's no better option?"

"Not in my professional opinion."

You pull a face.

"Hold him down."

You sigh and help Fang hold the poor lad down. Just as Roach is about to cut the finger off, Lucius gains consciousness again. As soon as he realises what's happening he pushes both you and Fang away and runs off.

"It's only going to get worse!" You call. He's already too far gone.

You can't help but chuckle as Pete and Fang go after him.

This crew isn't so bad.

♡♡♡

The Fuckery goes about as expected. Except for the fact that the crew of the Revenge didn't raid the ship. They let themselves get boarded by the Dutch merchants and basically put on some kind of Shakespeare play.

It ended with Edward freaking out and hiding in Stede's bathtub.

Stede did not die.

Izzy was fuming. You stand beside the man seeing the way he was clenching his jaw. His fist was balled up and it took everything in you not to reach out and calm the man.

Edward was complimenting the crew on their performance.

Edward was enjoying himself.

Not anymore.

"Stede Bonnet."

You turn to look at Izzy. You curse under your breath. Yet, you shouldn't be surprised. Izzy did tell you he would take matters into his own hands.

"Draw your weapon."

"No, Izzy, we're not doing this." Ed points at him.

"No, YOU'RE not doin' this. So I must." Izzy steps down and grabs 2 swords. "Stede fuckin' Bonnet... I fuckin' challenge you to a fuckin' duel."

He tosses Stede a sword.you step in front of Izzy.

"Izzy, please."

"Move." He says your name softly.

"I accept your challenge," Stede says from behind you. You turn around.

"Stede, no."

"Stede, be careful. He does know his shit," Edward warns him.

Izzy uses his arm to move you out of the way. You glare at him as he steps closer to Stede.

"As do I. You've taught me well," Stede replies to Ed.

"Not that well," Ed admits.

Stede watches Izzy. "I assume standard duel rules apply. What are those exactly?" He asks.

"Let's make it interesting, shall we?" Izzy says. "The loser is banished from the ship, if they're not dead."

"Izzy, no!" You call out, but he ignores you. Instead he instantly swings his sword at Stede.

Stede manages to block his attacks

"Come on. Give a man a warning." Stede says as Izzy holds his sword up to his neck.

"That was your warning."

They start swinging their swords at each other. You stand there anxiously, watching. There is no way for Stede to beat Izzy. Israel Hands was the best man you knew with a sword.

Izzy gets a hit into Stede which stumbles the man backward. Izzy's swings become a little more furious. Stede falls onto the ground. Izzy stands over him with sword pointed down at him.

"Yield or die."

"I choose... this." Stede throws powder into Izzy's face, temporarily blinding the man. Izzy covers his face and stumbles backward. The crew cheer for Stede, but all you can think about is if you should step in or not.

Stede gets to his feet, he gives Izzy a smack on the backside with his sword. Izzy straightens up again and continues the fight.

Izzy disarmed Stede with ease. The gentleman pirate backs up against the mast.

"So, it looks like we've arrived, Bonnet. The end of the road." Izzy holds his sword up to Stede again.

"Alright. Let's call it a draw," Stede says, breathless.

"Nah, I'm good."

"Izzy, stop!" You try once more in vain, but it feels like he's ignoring you completely.

With a firm stab, Izzy's sword goes right through Stede's abdomen and into the mast, pinning him there.

You inhale sharply at Stede's scream.

"Did I do it right?" Stede asks Ed, looking at the other man. "He missed all the important bits..."

Izzy tries to pull the sword out, but to no avail. He pulls hard, grunting. You stare at him, mild confusion painting across your face.

"This mast... is made from the finest cherry wood in Brazil. It's rather strong, actually." Stede manages to say as Izzy continues to attempt to pull the sword out.

Edward looks flabbergasted.

You can't quite believe what you're seeing yourself.

"Shut up!" Izzy yells at Stede. "Don't you ever shut up?! You rancid rat!"

The sword breaks in Izzy's hand. The blade still pinning Stede to the mast. You feel a gasp escape last your lips.

Buttons laughs. "Well, now, Mr Hands. Reckon he's rendered your sword inoperable."

Izzy stands there with realisation on his face.

"By duelling tradition, that means..."

"Stede wins!" Frenchie yells. The crew all cheer. "In your face, Jizzy!"

Edward shrugs as Izzy looks at him.

You watch Izzy with concern. He walks off. You watch him. You don't care for what everyone else is doing. You take off after Izzy.

He disappears into his cabin, you follow him inside, not even knocking. He doesn't say anything to you about it as he faces away from you, shoulders tense.

"Izzy..."

"No." He speaks with a firmness, but not in an angry way. Just a firm 'no.'

"Izzy, please. That whole thing was stupid."

"You're telling me..."

You take a step closer to him hoping he will turn around and look at you. He remains facing the wall of his cabin.

"Just forget the duel! Forget everything."

"No. Rules are rules."

"Izzy..."

He turns around and looks at you, but only briefly. He looks like he struggles to look you in the eye.

"He promised me. I was fucking right all along. Edward's gone soft for that twat. Any trace of Blackbeard is gone and it's all because of fuckin' Bonnet."

Your arm twitches as if you were going to reach out and touch him, but you catch yourself. However, Izzy noticed the slight reaction in your hand. He kind of wished you would.

"Don't be stupid, Izzy. Stay. We'll figure all this out. Maybe there's another solution."

"No." He shakes his head, his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly. He's angry. Silently angry.

"It was a stupid fucking duel. Are you seriously going to leave?"

"I'm not a coward."

"I didn't say you were," your voice is almost pleading. "Don't go."

"Rules are rules," he says again. For a brief second his eyes meet yours and you can see all the emotion bottled up inside. You want to reach out and hold the man, caress him, get him to open up and talk to you.

But he won't.

Your breathing becomes uneven as you try to fight off any emotion. You will not cry in front of him.

"So that's it then? You're going to fuck off and... and what? Leave me behind? I only just found you again and you're leaving me?"

"You could come with me."

"And do what? Izzy, what would be the point? I only just found my way back home," you tell him.

"No. This isn't home. This is a lie. A facade. Home was back on our ship, back with Blackbeard's crew. Home is... is where we belonged. It's where we lived together."

A tear escapes and runs down your cheek. This was your breaking point.

"Fuck you," you whisper.

Izzy stares at you.

"Fuck you and this whole fucking thing." You take a couple slow steps back toward the door. "Fuck off then, Izzy. Leave me behind. Maybe... maybe I should have stayed a ghost story."

You don't hang around. You turn on your heel and leave.

Izzy catches his breath as he stares at his empty doorway.

"Fuck," he whispers.

♡♡♡

@grippleback-galaxy - @askmarinaandothers - @godlikegallagher - @for-fuck-sake-im-alive - @whiskeyswriting - @lxsm2 - @bloody-bunni666 - @the-chocoholic-writer -

#spirit of the sea #izzy hands x reader #ofmd #our flag means death #dragon writes

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