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#i do need to have an actual conversation about it with him though
fastandcarlos · 3 days
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Drunken Kisses : ̗̀➛ Lewis Hamilton
summary: there are all kinds of drunks, but you're definitely the type to pour your heart out, as lewis quickly realises
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Lewis’ eyes rolled the moment he heard you groaning through the house, swinging his legs round and standing up from the sofa. Despite your promises not to get yourself drunk on your night out with your colleagues, he knew straight away that you hadn’t kept to that promise. 
His smile turned up though when he saw how giggly you were walking through the house, heading straight in Lewis’ direction on your unsteady feet. His arm came around your frame to support you, carefully guiding you to the sofa and safely sitting you down. 
“I missed you,” you whispered, resting your body against Lewis’, pressing several kisses against his cheek. “You should’ve come out with us tonight, we had such a great time.” 
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself,” Lewis mused, barely able to get his words out between the feeling of your lips pressing against him. 
Lewis didn’t quite know what to do as you scattered several kisses over him, your hands cupping his head to keep him still. The smell of liquor lingered on your breath as you smothered Lewis with as much love as you possibly could. 
When you moved for a moment, Lewis spoke up. “Do you think you might want to let me breathe?” 
“You’re already breathing,” you sighed, tapping against his arm. “You wouldn’t be talking to me right now if you weren’t breathing silly,” you scoffed, hearing a chuckle come from Lewis. 
“Do you think it’s time for bed?” Lewis suggested, but your head immediately shook in reply to him. 
You finally moved back from Lewis, but your eyes remained firmly on him, studying him closely. Lewis didn’t quite know how to react until he watched a tear roll down your cheek, reaching out and wiping it away for you before asking you what was wrong. 
“Are they happy tears?” He nervously asked, bringing his hands to hold either side of your face instead. “Did something happen whilst you were out that you’re not telling me?” 
Your head shook quickly, not wanting Lewis to worry with his eyes still on you. As you continued to remain quiet, Lewis couldn’t help but fret though. Your heart was racing as you toyed with the idea of opening up to Lewis what the reason for your tears was. 
“You have to promise that you’re not going to laugh at me.” 
Lewis hummed as his hand brushed gently through your hair, tucking you into his side. He held onto you tightly, biting down on his lip to make sure that his laughter was stifled as he waited for you to tell him what was going on. 
It was one of the things you hated about when you got drunk, how you suddenly found yourself overcome with emotion. As you arrived home to Lewis, that emotion hit you in a wave, feeling your heart swell with happiness when you were greeted by his figure walking through the front door. 
“It scares me sometimes how much I love you,” you whispered, brushing your hand against Lewis’ cheek. “Have I ever told you how much I’m actually in love with you?” 
“Love,” Lewis whispered, fighting back his urge to chuckle in surprise as to the reason for your tears. “You don’t need to do this.” 
“But I do, because you make me so unbelievably happy Lewis.” 
Before Lewis could speak, you leaned forwards and trailed several sloppy kisses along Lewis’ jaw, feeling the stubble on his face tickle against your slightly chapped lips. 
Your conversation went on for quite some time as Lewis sat back and let you get everything off of your chest. Although he always knew how you felt about him, he hadn’t heard you be quite so honest before. But that was what they always said about drunk people, the truth finds a way to spill. 
You had no recollection of heading to bed that night, confident however that Lewis would’ve taken good care of you and made sure that you got to bed in one piece. 
When you woke up the following morning, you found yourself with Lewis’ frame wrapped around you to keep you warm. He was already awake behind you, smiling away as he heard you groan and quickly shut your eyes again. 
“I’ve got so many regrets about last night.” 
“Good morning to you too,” Lewis teased, leaning forwards to press a kiss against your cheek. “I would ask how you’re feeling, but after the state you were in last night, I bet that I could have a pretty good guess about how you are.” 
Your eyes slowly peeled open again, this time a lot more prepared for the light in your bedroom, shuffling slightly in Lewis’ grip. “I don’t even want to know about anything that happened last night, just keep me safe from how embarrassing I was.” 
“You weren’t embarrassing, just a little lovesick.” 
“Oh no,” you whispered, hearing Lewis giggle jokingly, full of satisfaction knowing that he remembered exactly what you had to say to him last night. 
Lewis let you have your huff for a second before twirling you around in his hold so that you were facing him, clearing his throat to allow himself to fill you in. 
“At least I certainly know that you’re happy in this relationship, you made that quite clear.” 
“I don’t think I want to know.” 
“It was cute,” Lewis tried his best to assure you, “you certainly wanted to make sure that I was listening as well.” 
“Shut up,” you murmured, “can we just pretend that it didn’t happen?” 
“It’s nothing to be ashamed about,” Lewis whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I actually quite liked it, aside from the part when you didn’t let me move for your urge to kiss me repeatedly again and again.” 
Your head tilted back in disbelief, “I swear I don’t recognise the person that I become when I’m drunk, did I really do that to you? What must I have been thinking?” 
“Clearly you must’ve been thinking about just how much you love your amazing boyfriend.” 
“You’re enjoying this far too much for my liking,” you scolded. 
Lewis couldn’t help himself; it wasn’t that day to day you didn’t tell him how much you loved him, but when you were drunk that little extra came out that Lewis adored. 
As you fell silent, Lewis captured your attention again. “You know, for all you said last night, I want you to know that everything you said I feel the exact same way about you too.” 
“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better,” you assured him. 
“I’m not saying it for that, I’m saying it because I mean it.” 
“Thank you,” you chuckled, “and sorry that I was such a mess last night, I don’t even know what happened to me.” 
“Don’t worry love, I could get used to receiving all those kisses anyway.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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plumso · 1 day
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sweet reverie (theo x reader)
pairing: theodore nott x reader warning: obsessiveness, possessiveness, bitting summary: y/n attempts to place boundaries between them, but it only reveals the extent of his love for her. masterlist song recommendation: fade into you by mazzy star I do not consent to the reposting of my work! reblogging, however, is fine <3
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Y/N has only been in two relationships, the first lasting two years and the second lasting a month. Therefore, she believed she understood love and relationships. Despite how young she was or how long the relationship lasted, she thought she was now mature enough to know what she expected and needed from a partner.
But she was wrong. 
“T-Theo, we shouldn’t do this here,” Y/N whispered.
Theo’s face was nestled in her neck, his lips pressed gently on her skin.
“Hm?” he replied, the vibrations causing a shiver down her back.
“People are staring!” she exclaimed. 
The two were at the Great Hall for lunch, but Theo preferred to gnaw on her neck rather than his food. Unsurprisingly, many eyes were on the lovebirds.
Theo chuckled. He moved his head closer to her ear, rubbing his face in her hair, taking in the sweet apple scent of her shampoo. “I don’t care,” he whispered.
Y/N’s heart leaped as he proceeded to whisper sweet nothings. She couldn’t refuse him. Though anxious about everyone’s stares, she couldn’t help but give in. 
Four months have passed since Y/N started dating Theo. In that short span, she has received more love and affection from him than her two exes combined. He has given her more than what she needs, more than she could ever ask for. 
Y/N couldn’t help but giggle as Theo continued to whisper, his warm breath hitting her ears.
Pleased by her response, Theo gently bit her ear.
Shocked, Y/N slightly drew back as her hand covered her ear. She looked at Theo with disbelief, and he responded with a mischievous smile. 
“I’ve always thought you would look good with earrings,” he said, his long fingers drawing a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing a slight bite mark on her ear lobe. “It looks nice on you.” 
Y/N’s face flushed. “I-I!” she stammered. She was too flustered to think of a response. 
Theo chuckled, finding her reaction cute. He sighed happily and placed his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “Don’t worry. I’ll buy you real earrings. Consider this as its placeholder.”
Y/N nodded shyly. Her body was still tense from the shock of the bite, but it soon dissipated. She quickly felt warm in his embrace, leaning her head on his shoulder.
Theo smiled. He then handed her a spoon and pushed her plate closer to her. “Alright, you should eat now. Lunchtime is going to end soon.” 
In a daze of warmth and comfort, Y/N nodded. “Thank you,” she hummed, digging her spoon into her fruit parfait.
As the two ate, some of their friends joined them at the table. Theo participated in their conversation, but Y/N remained in her daze, the feel of his teeth still lingering on her skin.
She ran her fingers on the bite marks. Theo would never dare to cause her actual pain, so the marks were shallow. But she could still feel the outlines of his teeth on her skin. 
It didn’t hurt when he bit her. Rather, she felt a tingling sensation in her stomach, a constant feeling when she’s with him. Usually, it would disappear after a few minutes, but she couldn’t shake this one away. 
***
“Hey, Y/N!”
Y/N looked up from her notes and saw her potions partner run up to her. Surrounding students in the library turned and gave them a quick glare. Y/N gave them an apologetic look for the loud disturbance.
“Our project is due soon. Did you want to meet up later and work on it?” He gave Y/N a warm smile, completely ignoring Theo who was sitting right next to her.
Y/N was nervous. Was he ignoring Theo on purpose? Or did he just not see him? Y/N looked at Theo, worried that he would be fuming.
But he wasn’t. He seemed unbothered, his attention focused on his book. It was only till he felt her stare did he look up. Theo gave her a warm smile, wordlessly assuring her he was fine.
Relieved, Y/N smiled back before facing her potions partner. “Uh, yeah. I have a free period after potions. Would that work?”
“Perfect! I have a free period, too. We should hang out more then!” He exclaimed, giving her a charming smile.
Y/N uncomfortably laughed. “Haha, yeah…”
Not noticing her discomfort, he smugly smiled at Theo, as if he had succeded something. “Okay, I’ll see you later then!” 
As he walked away, Y/N anxiously turned to Theo. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
“What are you sorry for?” he said with a small chuckle.
“He was kind of… rude to you,” she said, looking down at her fidgeting hands. She didn’t know why, but she felt guilty. It felt like she betrayed Theo by being too nice to her potions partner.
But Theo gave her a warm, knowing smile. “You did nothing wrong.” With his large hands, he gently patted her head. “You’re a nice person. That’s one of the things that I love about you.”
Y/N blushed, feeling shy by his gaze and touch. In times like this, Y/N is reminded that Theo truly sees her, that he understands her.
After a few minutes of flirting, the two turned back to their respective books. But as Y/N tried to refocus on her studies, she couldn’t shake off this uncertain feeling. Theo had perfectly assured her that he was unbothered by it, but she couldn’t fully believe it.
Curious, Y/N slightly tilted her head to take a quick peek at Theo. What she saw then made her eyes widen and her heart drop in shock.
Theo’s usual warm smile was gone. Instead, it was replaced with a dark glare, his eyes directed at her potions partner a few tables away. His eyebrows were furrowed, his hands in a tight ball, his lips in a tight frown. Some blood seeped from his lips, most likely from biting too hard on it. 
Y/N knew that Theo was naturally cold to everyone but her, but he has never seen him angry before. His eyes were filled with bloodlust, his body tense as if he was ready to fight. Seeing this new side of him, Y/N felt a bit scared.
But when she realized that Theo was jealous, that he was mad for her, her face turned beet red. The same tingling sensation came back but in tenfolds. His brooding anger, his dark glare, his dangerous aura - she found it exhilarating.
Realizing that she’s been peeking for too long, Y/N focused her eyes back on her books. But she couldn’t help but imagine how it would feel if he looked at her with that dark, dangerous look in his eyes.
***
After dinner with Theo, Y/N went to the bathroom with her friends to get ready for bed. She placed her skincare bag on one of the sinks before checking her ear closer in the mirror. A few days have passed since Theo bit her ear, and the mark faded later that day. But she continued check it and felt disappointed that his mark was already gone.
“Y/N, what are you doing?” Her friend looked at her with a curious smile.
Y/N quickly backed away from the mirror, awkwardly laughing. “Nothing!” she exclaimed. She then started her skincare routine, hoping to seem normal.
“So…” her friend said as she walked over to Y/N. “How’s it going with Theo? Is he treating you well?”
Y/N brightly smiled. “Yes,” she replied shyly. “He treats me really well.”
“We’ve noticed!” One quipped, causing everyone to laugh. “He’s always around you.”
“Yeah, he’s super territorial of you,” another added. “It’s pretty funny.” Everyone nodded in agreement.
But Y/N was shocked. “What do you mean?”
“Oh… well, he’s always glaring down boys around you. Even around us, he’s sort of… protective of you.”
“I see…” Y/N trailed off, getting lost in deep thought. She knew that Theo was a bit… possessive of her, but she considered it normal between a couple. But if her friends noticed it and he’s warding the people around her… is it a bad thing?
Noticing her worried look, her friends attempted to lift her spirits. “W-we don’t think it’s a bad thing!”
“Y-yeah!” one friend added. “For some people, it can be seen as endearing!”
Y/N give a small smile, but was still conflicted. “But could it be a bad thing? If it goes… too far?” Y/N remembers what happened earlier today when Theo continued to glare at her potions partner till he left. His anger seemed like he would snap at any moment.
“Well… it can be toxic. Especially if he’s trying to push your friends away.”
“Remember my last ex?” one friend suddenly added. Y/N nodded in response. “Well, he was so jealous. Any time I would talk to a guy, he would yell at me and call me a cheater. It was suffocating.”
“Ooo, I had an ex like that, too!” another exclaimed. “And he would control what I’m wearing. Every single time we went to Hogsmeade, he would make me change my clothes. It was so weird.”
Y/N nodded, taking in all their experiences. Theo hasn’t done anything remotely close to what her friends’ exes have done, but they have been dating for only a few months. Would he become like that later on?
As her friends continued to talk about their exes, Y/N continued to think about Theo and his possessiveness. She also thinks of how she feels when she notices it, that exhilarating, tingling feeling. Is it bad that she feels excited when he’s like that?
‘Maybe I should set some boundaries for us…’
***
“Y/N?” Theo said softly, his eyes slightly squinted with concern. “Did I do something wrong?”
The two were at Charms class, waiting for Professor Flitwick’s arrival. Theo had been anxious the whole day, concerned of Y/N’s distant behavior.
After that talk with her friends, Y/N spent the following days setting boundaries between her and Theo. She started distancing herself a little, keeping the PDA to a minimum. She even forced herself to be unresponsive whenever he would be extra flirty.
Theo noticed this and was noticeably disappointed. Though his demeanor remained the same around Y/N, he was impatient and moody to others. 
Y/N felt awful. There were many times when she wanted to give in. Every time he hugged her, played with her hair, or give her that handsome smile, she wanted to jump on him and melt in his arms.
“No, of course not,” Y/N replied, giving him a warm smile. “I’ve… been stressed with homework recently.”
“Oh, I see.” Theo smiled in relief, his body becoming noticeably less tense. “I can always help you if you want.”
Theo placed his hand on hers, but Y/N drew her hand back. “O-oh! I have to ask Professor Flitwick something! I’ll be right back,” she rambled before rushing towards the professor.
During the entire class, Theo was silent. He didn’t whisper or joke around with Y/N like he usually does, causing Y/N to feel guilty.
But Y/N was resolved. She knew that Theo was the last man she’d ever be with, the man that she’d marry, the man her children would call “dad” or “papa.”
After class ended, she wanted to do something to uplift his mood, but he was already back to his normal, kind self by then.
***
Y/N’s plans were successful. After weeks of setting boundaries, they now flirted less in public, they weren’t cuddling as much as before, and her friends were around them more often.
She was glad that the two had normal boundaries now. She felt assured that their relationship would benefit from it, that they’d avoid the same fate as her friends did. 
But despite all that, she felt lonely.
Even right now as they walked the halls together. They were still talking as usual, joking and complimenting each other. But Y/N desperately wanted to hold his hands or wrap herself around his buff arm. Yet, she continued to deny herself from that pleasure.
Then, as if he read her mind, Theo wrapped his arm around his waist. From this, a wave of electricity ran through her body. She missed his touch. It’s been a while since he’s held her like that. It was as if he was claiming her to the people around.
But Y/N remained firm in resolve and drew away from his grip. She bit her lips, conflicted and annoyed with her actions, but she continued to walk. However, Theo stopped in place, his eyes looking down. His usual smile had dropped to a small, sad frown.
At that moment, her resolve had broken. She had seen him happy, she had seen him lose patience in others, she had seen him angry, but she had never seen him sad. It was immediate that this was something she hated to see.
“Theo-”
Before Y/N could comfort him, one of her friends ran up to her. “Y/N! Y/N! Did you hear?”
Y/N turned around to face her friend who looked frantic and concerned. “What? What happened?”
“Brian, your potions partner!” she huffed, gasping for air. “He’s in the hospital wing! Apparently, he’s been unconscious for a few days!”
Y/N’s eyes widened and her body stiffened. She didn’t know why, but she was scared to learn more. “R-really…”
“Yeah! Someone said he got in some sort of… freak accident! No one knows what really happened. Madame Pomfrey thinks that maybe a spell he did rebound, but- Oh, Cho! Wait there! I have to tell you something!” Her friend ran off and left the lovebirds behind.
Y/N was afraid to look back. She was inexplicably afraid of Theo. ‘Could Theo have…’
“Y/N…” Theo pleaded softly as if he was still sad about her behavior earlier.
Y/N quickly turned around, ready to comfort him, but he was smiling. His face was stiff, his lips curled unsettlingly as if it was forced. Y/N was a bit thrown off; she’d never seen him so stiff.
Suddenly, Theo took her hand and dragged her away.
“W-wait,” she pleaded, attempting to draw her hand away, but his grip became tighter. He didn’t respond to her pleadings. 
His eyes were dark and brooding. He seemed annoyed as if something finally snapped in him. When Y/N realized this, her skin was prickling with goosebumps as a shiver ran through her body. She completely forgot everything about her potions partner.
Theo then walked into an empty classroom, letting go of Y/N’s hand to cast a lock charm on the door. 
Y/N took a few steps back, feeling a bit anxious about his sudden change in demeanor. “Theo?” she asked softly.
Theo remained silent, making her more anxious. He finally turned around to face her, but he wasn’t smiling. He was angry. For the first time ever, Theo was angry at her. Y/N shivered.
He slowly walked to her, getting closer and closer till she had to bend her neck and look up at him. “Sit,” he said, nodding at the table behind her.
“Theo-”
“Sit,” he said, his voice firm and lower than before.
Y/N nodded, slowly backing herself to the table. She couldn’t refute him.
As she was about to prep herself up, Theo placed his hands on her waist and lifted her, setting her on the table. He then positioned himself between her legs, his arms resting around her waist. 
They were now at eye level, his dark gaze intensifying. Y/N’s breath shortened, feeling uneasy and excited by his intimidating presence. She was anxious about what would come next.
“Kiss me,” he demanded.
Y/N knew better than to defy, so she leaned in and kissed him. He remained stiff, letting himself feel her warm lips softly placed on his. He wanted more.
“Open your mouth,” he demanded, his thumb pressed on her lips.
Though slightly apprehensive, Y/N opened her mouth and he started kissing her deeply. His hands roamed all over her body as if he couldn’t get enough of her warm touch. It was passionate, a little rough, and needy.
Y/N felt a bit light-headed. “T-Theo,” she breathed in between their kisses. She brought up her hands to push him away, but he took hold of them and gripped them against the table. She knew she should try harder to push him away, but she didn’t want to. She couldn’t even think properly.
“Tell me to stop,” he said as he moved down to her neck. He planted gentle kisses before sucking on the skin. This sent shivers down her spine, moans daring to come out. Despite worries about their boundaries or if anyone would walk in on them, she didn’t want him to stop, and he knew that.
He continued to kiss her everywhere - on her cheeks, lips, and neck.  “Do you hate it?” he whispered lowly. When she didn’t answer, he bit her ear. “Do you hate it?” he repeated impatiently.
Y/N felt shy. She didn’t want to admit that she felt excited when he did stuff like that. But feeling weak in his stare, she replied meekly, “No.”
Theo chuckled, his eyes filled with excitement. H nestled back in her neck, biting into her skin. His bite was a bit harder than before, leaving a mark that will last for days. Y/N winced in the pain, but she was more overwhelmed with the twitching feeling in her stomach.
He then drew back, taking in the sight before him. Y/N’s face was flushed, her collar unbuttoned, her hair slightly ruffled. His teeth marks were all over her neck and ear. He looked immensely pleased.
“Look. It’s a matching set now,” he said with a small laugh, tracing his fingers on the marks.
When Theo was about to go in for more, Y/N placed her hand on his chest. “I’m sorry, Theo,” she whimpered, tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
Theo looked at her red, teary face, and his body slightly trembled in excitement. “You’re so cute,” he said, gently wiping away her tears with his thumb. His other hand was gripping onto his pants as if he was holding himself back from doing more. More to his precious, tear-eyed girlfriend that sat innocently in front of him. Instead, he caressed her head gently, waiting for her sobs to die down.
After a few tears and a couple of sniffs, Y/N rubbed her eyes and focused them on Theo. His dark gaze had turned gentle. 
“I-I’m sorry for being mean,” she sniffed. “I did it because I… I-” Y/N stammered, her mind racing to find the proper words to explain herself.
But Theo gave his same warm, knowing smile. “It’s okay,” he said softly.
Y/N’s heart sank as she felt more dissapointed. Of course, he already knew everything. After all, he’s the only one who truly understood her.
Y/N shook her head. “No… it’s not okay,” she said stubbornly. She then gripped onto his shirt and laid her head on his chest. “I shouldn’t have compared our relationship to others. I’m sorry.”
Theo chuckled before wrapping his arms around her. “Just don’t ever push me away again. And talk to me if you feel worried.”
Y/N nodded, her head still on his chest.
“Also…” he cupped his hands on her cheeks, bringing her face closer to his. His gaze was strong, a small glint of red in his eyes. “You’re mine. You can never leave me.”
Y/N shivered in excitement, electricity humming throughout her body. She felt her lips curl up in a smile. Pleased by her reaction, Theo’s eyes started to look dangerous again and filled with excitement.
At that moment, she finally accepted that Theo’s love for her was distorted. That it was probably different from what others consider as “healthy.” Some might even call it toxic. His deep, dark, dangerous feelings 
But she didn’t care. She was intoxicated.  His scent, his warm blue eyes, his rough, calloused hands touching gently on her skin - she couldn’t get enough of it.
Y/N nodded. “I’m yours.”
Theo stroked away a strand of hair behind her ears. He then placed his hand behind her head, bringing her into a deep kiss. 
In an empty classroom where Theo placed a lock and silence charm, the two continued to get lost in each other’s touch, making up for all their lost time.
***
a/n: just to clarify, this is not a smut lol. i think i was having a bit too much fun with this one. also, it's so funny how they forgot about the potions partner lol. but i wanted to emphasize how much of a daze she's in when she's around him. anywho, hope you enjoyed it!
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On the topic of Eclipse, I also would love to talk about how he works best off of a reward based system.
After the stern conversation he had with Puppet, Eclipse did go ask Moonlight in a nicer manner about reviewing his killcode. It wasn’t until after Moonlight continued to push the situation that Eclipse almost turned and left.
Moonlight wasn’t in the wrong for trying to push for more polite manners from Eclipse. Asking for things like “please” is literally asking for baseline kindness and respect. The problem is, even doing that is a huge thing for Eclipse. And instead of getting a reward out of what he just did, Moonlight asked even more out of it.
Eclipse is very reward-driven. If he does something, he must get something out of it. If he does something and feels he has gained nothing, then there is no point in doing said thing in the first place. Saying “please” did earn him the right to look at Moonlight’s coding, but that reward felt smothered by the fact that, to Moonlight, please wasn’t enough.
It circles right back to Eclipse feeling like he is enough.
It’s kind of like when you do something you feel is a big achievement, something you were finally able to do after a long time of not being able to, and everyone just saying “cool” and moving on. Eclipse feels like he is putting in the effort and no one is seeing it. Even though what he is doing seem like normal everyday things other people just do, they’re huge strides for Eclipse.
Eclipse is getting better, but his progress is being slowed by the people around him. Funnily enough, even by the same people trying to help him. Part of helping someone through their trauma is learning their reward system. Figure out what they view as praise for their efforts, so you can reward them when they have made progress. It’s part of the process currently being overlooked by the others like Puppet. They want him to get better without showing him how proud they are of his effort.
“Puppet tells Eclipse she’s proud of him all the time!” Yes, but that’s not what Eclipse views as a reward. Words are very easily twisted, they have never been something Eclipse can rely on. He also can’t trust people who say they’re going to stick by his side. People have said that several times and betrayed him anyways. He won’t trust it at this point. He needs something solid.
(This is part of the reason why I think he got so easily attached to Earth. Earth is very big on rewarding people for seemingly small things. She makes the effort to actually understand how he feels about something instead of just calling him “difficult” or “stubborn”. He tells her about things he’s achieved and she is genuinely happy for him and interested in learning more. It’s where most other people fail. They invite Eclipse to do things, but it’s never what Eclipse wants. Moonlight was probably the only other one who tired to show interest in what Eclipse wanted to do before that whole relationship fell apart.)
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Game is the best wingman to ever wingman
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Diew only thought about having sex with God five seconds ago, and his bestie is already ready with the safe sex links.
And Diew is a smart boy, he's not going to look a gift-sex-guide in the mouth. Luckily, he's also got a green flag parade of a boyfriend who is ready to gently rock his world -- as long as Diew is enthusiastically on board.
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God knows that his teasing needs to stay on the right side of a very careful line, and he doesn't want to do anything to upset or embarrass Diew -- or to make him feel coddled. So he checks in, and is so very sweet about it. The grounding touch, the "baby"? Ugh, the actual cutest thing.
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then reassurance that there's no rush. Curiosity doesn't mean interest or consent. God is in this forever, not for an easy lay.
And Diew is still quiet, so God doubles down on A+ boyfriendism and moves the conversation away from sex so there's no pressure.
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And when Diew says he is ready, God asks him to repeat himself, even though he heard him, because he wants to be sure that Diew can say what he wants clearly.
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God is a whole parade of the greenest flags.
And clearly that man knows how to be "unstable structure" gentle while still showing his partner an excellent time, because wow just look! at them!?
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I love them 😭
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conchcronch · 2 days
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Little Rabbit
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Sir Crocodile x You
It’s been weeks since he’s paid you an ounce of attention. You had done everything you could think of, except one thing. You knew interrupting their meeting was going to be met with a punishment, but at least you’d have him all to yourself.
A/N: I do not know where this came from, am I a Crocodile simp now 🤷‍♀️
Kinks included: Daddy kink, impact play, slight exibitionism
You could hear the sound of the clown’s whining through the heavy doors that separated you from the boardroom. Rarely did meetings need to be hosted anywhere besides the new Guild ship, but Crocodile claimed he needed a break from the gaudy circus-inspired interior so he offered up his own ship. The three of them had been hold up there since before you were awake, having rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty and cool to the touch. You had been milling around the doors, hoping they could at the very least call for a break so you could see him but as the hours stretched on you grew impatient.
Over the past few weeks he had been so caught up in his guild work that you had barely been able to see him, you were lucky if you were able to even get a few words in before he went to bed. Sometimes you even followed him to your shared bedroom, in hopes you could bother him for the quickest of quickies. But every time he would just pull you against his bare chest and fall asleep, barely a word spoken between you two. You understood he was tired, you were conscious that he had been working extremely long hours but it seemed as though you weren’t even there. And you intended to end that here and now.
You had put on an outfit you knew he was partial to, a black silky dress the fell to your mid thigh. It had black lace along the hem, neckline and the narrow straps, it was the simplest dress you owned but something about the way the fabric hugged your wide hips always made him go crazy. You had paired it with simple black boots that sat just below your knee, a gold SC could be seen on the back of the heel but other then that they were plain. You had gone to his private bar and poured him a glass of his favourite scotch in a crystal glass, along with a glass and bottle of red wine you knew would be up to Mihawk’s standards. For the clown you brought water, hoping the two would allow the poor thing to actually drink it.
With a deep breath you pushed opened the heavy door, feeling heat begin to radiate from between your legs as soon as you saw Crocodile, who’s head whipped to look at who had the audacity to interrupt. All eyes were on you, their conversation pausing as they took you in. “I know you’re busy, but I thought I’d bring you all something to drink to tide you over until dinner is ready.” You walked first to Mihawk’s side, setting the glass down in front of him and slowly pouring the wine for him, turning the bottle as you did so to avoid it dripping when you filled the glass halfway. You could feel the other two’s eyes scan over your body when you faced Mihawk, who’s eyes were shamelessly running up and down your form. “Thank you my dear, you’re so thoughtful.” His hand caught yours as you placed the bottle on the table, bringing your hand to his lips, his gaze averting from you to Crocodile’s. “You’ve got yourself quite the woman, Crocodile.” His lips moved against your hand in a way your body could hardly handle, finally allowing your hand to slip from his when the man across the table cleared his throat.
“I also brought Buggy water, but I can just put that here.” You placed the water next to Mihawk, hazarding a look at the clown who’s head sat at the end of the table, a prominent bump above his eyes and his blue tangled tresses surrounding him. You could tell he wanted to thank you, but he kept his mouth shut, only giving you a small nod so you knew he was grateful.
You picked up the glass you had left at the head of the table, walking around so you could place it on Crocdile’s right side, making sure to bend over the table as you slid the glass across the wooden surface. You knew if he tried he could easily see the hint of your purple panties, you picked them specifically to match the vest he was currently wearing, the white lace on the sems perfectly mimicking the piping that accented his outfit. “Can I bring anything else for any of you?” You couldn’t resist touching him, your hand running from his shoulder to behind his neck where you tried to card your fingers through the hair at the base of his neck before he fidgeted, his sign for you to get your hands away. With a huff you pulled your hand away, drawing your attention back to the other two men at the table.
“I’m quite alright, but thank you little rabbit.” Mihawk’s eyes held yours, the yellow rings of his iris making it difficult to tear your gaze away, but when you felt a hand on the back of your thigh your eyes moved without question to the man next to you.
“S-sir” Slipped from your lips in a breathy tone, half startled from the unexpected touch so close to where you needed him most. You looked at him, his brow knit together in irritation. “Can I bring you anything to eat?” He shook his head, blowing a cloud of smoke at you. He moved in his chair, bringing his leg to drape over his knee and god you wanted to sit in his lap, to feel his wide chest against your back, his hook running along your inner thigh, his fingers grazing over your covered core.
“No, go away, we have more work to do.” You wanted to fight it, argue that you had some use in this meeting, you knew that would at best be met with a laugh but that was unlikely. You wanted to kiss him, to leave a lipstick stain on his cheek that could be a silent reminder that you’d be waiting for him, but you knew that would be a mistake. So you walked out, pulling the doors closed behind you, only catching the cold words of Crocodile saying “Shut up” to something Mihawk must have said but you had missed.
You were yet to know whether your plan was a success so you made your way to his office, closing the door behind you and flicking on the dim light. You curled up in the green velvet loveseat he bought specifically for you. He always liked you having a place in his rooms, somewhere that you can stay when he wants you to be near him but still be able to get work done. You picked up the book you had left there from the last night you had tried to stay up late enough to see him, not knowing he was going to go straight to bed. Tonight wouldn’t be like that, you were determined to see him, the throbbing between your legs demanded it.
Just when you were thinking you were going to go find a different set of four walls to stare at, your book barely holding your attention anymore, you heard the sound of pristine dress shoes click against the wood floorboards. You froze, your book clutched in your hands to make it seem like you were reading and not just counting down the seconds until you hoped his meeting wrapped up. The door opened and there he was. You had to push the moan down that tried to bubble up just at the sight of him, it would have shown just how down bad you really were. As he closed the door his eyes landed on you and you tried desperately to act like you didn’t notice. He didn’t say anything to you right away, walking around his desk and sitting down with a new stack of papers he must have brought from the meeting. “You think you’re real clever don’t you?” He dug through his desk drawer before pulling out his monogrammed fountain pen, beginning to sign document after document, only stopping occasionally to read over whatever was written on it.
“I was just trying to be hospitable.” You peaked over the top of your book, noticing how his eyebrow twitched.
“You’re well on your way to a punishment if you keep that up.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You push yourself upright from the way you naturally slouched, stretching your legs out, the heels of your bare feet digging into the velvet, having taken your boots and knee highs off shortly after settling in to read. A deep chuckle falls from his lips, his shoulder shaking as he scrawls his signature on another dotted line.
“I can practically smell how wet you are from over here, but I’m not going to do anything about it until you can list off exactly what you did wrong.” The way in which he speaks to you is reminiscent of how someone might relay the weather, not as though he’s giving you instructions that only dampen your panties more.
“M-Maybe I’ll just go find Mihawk and see if he’ll help me. I am his rabbit after all.” Crocodile scoffed at your attempt to be smug, watching as you coyly crossed your ankles bringing his gaze down your pale legs to your freshly manicured toes before crawling back up to your face that you try to cover with your book that you’re clearly not actually reading. “Or maybe I’ll ask Buggy.” You allowed your eyes to flick up from the pages just in time to see the large man crunch his cigar between his molars.
“Go ahead, you’ll just come crying back to me when they can’t make you cum.” He shrugged, thumbing through the remaining papers in his pile of yet to be signed documents. The conversation died, you tried to go back to your book and he went back to his work. The sound of his ballpoint pen scratching against the paper was the only sound that filled the room. With every piece of paper he moved from his right to his left you hoped he would turn his attention to you, but he never did. You rub your thighs together looking for any kind of pressure to ease the pulsing between your legs but nothing seems to help.
”I-I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting.” The only sign that he heard you was a short hum that you knew as an affirmative sound.
“That’s one.”
“But you’ve been in meetings all month, I thought if you had the meeting here I could come see you more, I miss you.”
“No, your cunt misses me.” You had to clench your teeth together to stop the moan from pushing out of your parted lips at the mention of your cunt which was begging to be touched.
“So what if my cunt missed you, is that not enough?”
“Your cunt misses me the second I pull out, if I came to you every time she missed me, I’d get nothing done.” The way he spoke to you, spoke about you, never failed to make your cheeks burn but as the room fell silent again, and even the smell of his cigar, a habit that a few months ago you found disgusting now makes the throb between your legs excruciating. “I shouldn’t have bent over the table in front of you.” Your words were barely loud enough for him to hear but you knew he did. You hoped that that would be enough to appease him, enough to get him to give into you but you knew by the curt nod it wasn’t.
“There’s more to the list then that, but you’re doing better.”
“This isn’t fair.” You weren’t proud of the whiny tone your voice took on, but it had been weeks since you had sex, even longer since you had touched yourself, and this was pushing you beyond your limit.
“Quit your whining, I’ve told you what you need to do to get what you want, it’s not my fault you refuse to follow basic instructions.”
“I don’t know what else I did!”
“That’s not my problem.” You could hear the irritation that was bleeding into his tone, his eyebrows knit together as he ground what little of the cigar that was left between his teeth.
“Are you mad he kissed my hand? Mad that he called me his rabbit?” You tossed your book down by your feet, swinging your legs forward so they dangled just off the ground. “Mad that I brought Buggy water, or was it just the simple fact that I was there that bothered you so much?”
“I’m not playing this game with you, if you think those are the things you did wrong then just say that.” You let out a frustrated groan as you dug the heels of your palm into your eyes. You push yourself up to your feet, walking over to his desk and standing there waiting for him to notice you. He knows you’re there, you know he does, but his lack of acknowledgement makes you want to slam your hands on his desk in anger. “Please.” You whine.
“I’ve told you what you have to do, I’m not in the mood to make compromises.”
“Can I make it up to you?”
“You can’t make up for something if you don’t know what that something is.” You wanted to leave, to turn on your heel and slam his office door behind you. You wanted to march up to your shared bedroom, shove your face into his pillow and finger fuck yourself enough times that the throbbing between your legs is replaced by the prickle of overstimulation, but you knew if you did that you would be facing an even worse punishment then this.
“Please Sir.” You watched as he slammed his hook in the desk, his gaze finally meeting yours, his dark eyes somehow even darker.
“There it is again.”
“I-I thought you liked it when I cal-“
“Enough.” He interrupted you, pushing himself to his feet finally. “First you allow him to touch you, to kiss you. Then you throw yourself at me in the middle of a meeting, when I’ve explicitly told you to never do that. You acted like a slut in front of my colleagues, you invade my office without permission, flaunting your greedy little cunt to me while I’m trying to work and now you have the audacity to beg.” He pulled the butt of his cigar out from between his teeth, stubbing it out in the ash tray on his desk. “I thought you were finally trained, then out of nowhere you act out like this.” He walked around the heavy oak desk, pausing only to drape his gray fur coat over the back of his chair before continuing around to tower over you. You try to take a step back, to put some distance between you two, reminded of the sheer power he wields over you, but he’s quick to hold you in place with his hook. “And now, after all that whining you finally get my attention and what, you try to back away from me?” He shakes his head at you, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “You know what’s coming, don’t you?” He doesn’t fight the wicked smile that spreads over his wide mouth as you shake your head, eyes wide. “Come now baby girl, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve had to punish you, you must remember”
“I-I don’t remember, really.” That was a lie, you knew exactly what was coming but you were living for this game you were playing. His aroma wrapped around you like vice, encompassing you completely in his colegn and the smell of his cigar, making your head swim.
“I guess I’ll have to remind you then, won’t I?” With a quick movement he shoved you into the densely cushioned high back of the loveseat. You quickly knocked your book on the ground, making sure it wasn’t going to get in the way of whatever was coming next. “I suppose no matter how well you train a bitch, she’ll eventually bite the hand that feeds her.” He made his way over to you, taking his time. He holds out his hand to you, palm upturned, his signal that he wanted you to remove his cufflink, a task that proved more difficult for him then he would ever admit.
You reach out, using both hands to guide the cufflink out from the French cuff before placing the small piece of gold that was shaped to into a crocodile head with tiny emerald eyes into his hand before rolling his sleeve up just above his elbow. When you were done you sat back on the chair, rubbing your thighs together as you waited for your next instructions. He brought a hand to your cheek and you braced for a swift smack, but it never came. Instead he cupped your cheek, his thumb running over your top lip, smearing the light pink lipstick onto your skin. You parted your lips, hoping he’d press his thick thumb into your mouth, but instead he slipped his hand down your face to your neck. His gaze fell to watch his hand tug gently at the golden chain that adorned your neck, it had been the first gift he gave you, something he insisted you wear at all times. It was simple, nothing overly complex or flashy, a buckle closure chainmail style gold necklace that sat at the base of your neck. Something that he often would idolly tug at, tightening the chain around your neck before releasing it. “Over the arm of the couch.” The words fell out of his mouth while he ran his hand over your neckline, the rough pads of his fingers following the fabric of your dress, toying with the thin strap before finally pulling away and stepping back.
You stood, stepping around Crocodile and laying over the arm of your loveseat. There was enough cushioning on it that it wasn’t overly uncomfortable but you knew the position wasn’t the punishment. He grabbed the hem of your dress, pulling it up and over you so it pooled just below the back of your bra, leaving your thighs, ass and lower back completely exposed. You knew when you heard the deep chuckle that he had noticed just how soaked your panties were, the sheer purple fabric leaving very little to the imagination even in the most pristine conditions, but you were confident that they were so wet the fabric was entirely see through. “Did you wear this outfit just to tempt me?” He ran a hand up the back of your thigh, grabbing the meat of your ass roughly.
“Y-yes.” You mumbled, face pressed into the velvet.
“What about these?” You felt the cool metal of his hook press right against your folds, the slick gathered there making the cool temperature of his golden hook even more noticeable. When you opened your mouth to speak, all you could do was moan, finally feeling his touch where you needed it the most.
“Yes, just for you.” He hummed approvingly, pulling his hook away from you with only a mild whine.
“Because you dressed so nicely for me, I’m feeling generous.” He ran his hand up over your ass and to your lower back, the pressure making your back arch more before he returned to your butt, grabbing the fat there. “I’m going to tell you all the things you did that pissed me off.”
“T-thank you, daddy.” He groaned at the name, you knew that was his favourite, always had been.
“And maybe next time, you’ll remember this and won’t do it again.” You nodded.
You heard the sound before you felt the sting of the first hit. The slap sound was loud enough to make you jump but he held you in place with his heavy hook that was pressing down on the small of your back. “That one’s for interrupting us.” This time you were ready for the impact, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. “And that one’s for letting him touch you.” You yelped when his hand met your cheek again, the burn apparent even when his hand disappeared between hits. “And letting him kiss you.” You wanted to correct him, he kissed your hand, but you knew that would only anger him more. “This one is for touching me like that in front of my colleagues.” That one hurt. A long high pitched moan slipped from your lips as your fingers tried to find purchase on the velvet fabric beneath you. “Another for showing me these slutty panties when you knew I couldn’t touch them.” You’re sure your ass is beat red at this point, but the way he would rub a circle on the abused spot in between smacks fanned the flames of your arousal. “And this one, this one baby girl is for calling me Sir in front of them.” That one was the hardest by far, your body tensing from the impact, a yelp falling from your lips. “Do you know how hard hearing you say that made me?” He moved slightly, allowing himself to lean over you, his hook gone from your lower back and replaced with his arm hooking underneath your waist, his hand dangerously close to your cunt.
“I’m so sorry daddy, I just- I missed you so much.” Your eyes were welling with tears from the spanking but you could almost feel his erection against you.
“I know you did baby girl, I’ve missed you too. But you can’t interrupt me when I’m working.” He moved your hair to the side so he could press sloppy kisses along your shoulders. The moment his lips were on you you were a moaning mess. “You looked so pretty when you came into the room, in my favourite dress, all done up pretty for me.” You nodded “you know how much I love when you have your hair down.” Finally you felt it, his covered erection as he humped against your raised ass. “And the boots,” he groaned into the crook of your neck. “Next time you come into my office, I want you in nothing but those boots and your necklace.”
“Anything for you, daddy.” That sentance was incredibly difficult to get out between the flow of moans. “C-can you please fuck me?”
“I wish I could, baby girl.”
“Why can’t you?” You brokenly half sobbed.
“I have work to finish.” You could feel him begin to pull away, as though he just remembered the stack of paper he abandoned in order to punish you. He stood up, making sure to look at the bright red that adorned your ass before adjusting himself in his dress pants. You forced yourself off the arm of the couch, rubbing at the soon-to-be bruise that would be across your stomach, your dress falling back down as you straightened. He was walking back around his desk before you had a chance to touch him, knowing that if you could rope him into a kiss that work wasn’t going to get done tonight.
He sat heavily in his desk chair, picking his pen up against and reading over the paper he had in front of him. You stood next to the couch, balling the hem of your dress in your fists as you tried to decide what to do next. “Is it that bad?” He sighed, looking up at you while he snipped the end of fresh cigar before holding it between his teeth to light it. You nodded, rubbing your thighs together to emphasize your point. “Come here.” He pushed his chair back a bit as you walked around the desk. “You’re going to have to entertain yourself while I finish this up.” You nodded, noticing how he angled his leg out from under his desk. You knew what he was offering. At this point you were so desperate you would have taken anything, you’d hoped for his cock but you would have been content with his hook, but yet, you were left with his thigh. But you could make it work.
You straddled his thigh, grabbing his dress pants as much as you could as you rutted against him slowly, getting closer to him until you could rest your head on his shoulder. You couldn’t stop the breathy moan that slipped through your parted lips. The feeling of having anything rubbed against your folds felt heavenly, even if it was just his slender thigh clad in expressive dress pants. The smell of him was intoxicating, leaned your head against his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his bicep, thankful for his hooked hand that supported you as you rutted against him, moans and breathy whines flowing out of your mouth as easily as your slick had gathered. “How’s that feel, baby girl?” You knew it was taking all the willpower he had to keep working and not to just sit and watch you hump his leg in desperation.
“G-good, it’s good.” You pinched your eyes closed trying to focus on the high that seemed to be alluding you.
“Only good?”
“I can think of a few other things that would feel better.” You were surprised you even managed to get that sentence out between your breathy moans.
“Oh yeah, why don’t you tell me some?” You should have known he was going to say that. You could hear him scribbling his signature on paper after paper, not taking as much time to review whatever it was before signing it.
“Your fingers, your hook-“ his hook slipped from your hip and ran along your bare thigh, prematurely ending your sentence with a surprised moan. “Your your tongue, god, your face.” Something halfway between an uh huh and a groan came from beside you as you humped against his thigh, your nails digging into his arm as you tried to steady yourself now that his hook was running up and down your thigh. “Your cock.”
“Thought you almost forgot that one.” He let out a low chuckle before you heard his pen hit the desk followed by the feeling of his hand on your head. “Take that dress off, give me something to watch.” He leaned back in his chair as you pulled the silk garment over your head, tossing it beside you. Your bra was next to follow, quickly joining the dress on the ground. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his grey ones as he puffed out a cloud of smoke from the side of his mouth. “I think you’ve worked hard enough to get a little reward.” You were nodding before he was even done his sentance. “Stand up for me” Your legs were a bit shakey when you stood up off his thigh but when he offered you his hook for support it was much easier to move from his thigh to stand between his spread legs. “Let’s get these off, shall we?” He grabbed your panties and yanked them down your legs, impatience clear in his movements. You stepped out of them, kicking them in the vague direction of the rest of your clothes before you leaned into his large chest. You pulled the cigar from his mouth, placing it on the ash tray before wrapping your hands around his neck and carding them through in his longer hair.
Your lips were on his and all seemed right in the world again. It was crazy to think that you didn’t remember the last time the two of you had shared a passionate kiss like this. The silk of his vest was a nice contrast to the heat your body was radiating as his hand slid down and between your legs. “Do you know how badly I wanted to just slip my fingers between your legs when you interrupted our meeting?” His first finger slipped right in, no resistance, nothing, as though your body was begging for him. You could feel his ring slip inside, your slick gathering along the golden band. “I wanted you to stand there and take it, maybe even bend over the table so I could see your greedy little hole swallow my fingers.” He guided your head onto his shoulder, your nails digging into his neck and shoulder as you moaned against him. “Would you have liked that? If Mihawk and the clown watched you get finger fucked by me?” You nodded before a strangled yes was able to slip out. He pressed another thick finger into your hole, the squelching sound they were making as he fucked into you was bordering on pornographic, and your stream of moans wasn’t helping that image either. “Maybe they’re still here, should I call them in to watch how I can make you beg?” You shook your head, unable to get the word out. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt you so wet.” He whispered into your hair, pressing a kiss to your neck.
His thick fingers were fucking into you, the slapping was becoming louder, if that was even possible. “You’ve lasted longer than I expected.”
“You h-haven’t said I can c-u-um yet.”
“There’s my well trained girl. Are you close?” You answer him with a broken sob, and normally he would make you work for it, make you beg. But he takes pity on you, his own erection becoming irritating so in interest of progressing the night he huskily whispers “Cum for me, baby girl.” And you do. A crashing wave of pleasure washes over you. You’re sure that if he hadn’t been holding you upright you could have crumbled at his feet. His fingers kept moving instead of you, slowing down but not ready to pull out yet. When he finally does, nudging his shoulder to get your attention as he licks the digits, knowing how much you like to see him taste you in any capacity. Your eyes are glued to how his tongue moves, and he’s very aware of that fact. “Do you wanna taste yourself?” You nodded, opening your mouth so he could push his fingers inside.
The taste of your own arousal filled your mouth, and at the same time the fingers in your mouth were forcing you to your knees, pushing down with enough force on your tongue to get the message across.
You could smell his musk before your fingers were able to work the button of his pants open. As you fumbled with deft fingers you looked up at him, his big hand running through your hair, a cascade of smoke flowing from his mouth. “What I wouldn’t do to have you sit between my legs like this every guild meeting.” When his pants were open you quickly drew his cock and balls from inside, a motion that had become quite practiced after knowing Crocodile as long as you had.
With one hand wrapped around the girthy base, you pull it forward enough that you could lick a long strip to his engorged head before encircling it with your lips. “I think you can fit more of me between those pretty lips, don’t you?” The hand that was on your head started pushing you down, inch by inch you got closer to his well kept dark curls. When you got just over half of him down your throat you could feel your body begin to reject the intrusion, drool spilling from your mouth in amounts you found disgusting but he found thrilling. He knew if you ever stopped allowing yourself to be pushed down anymore you were at your limit. Instead of pushing he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you off his cock.
Your chin and lips were covered in shiny spit, your lipstick smeared and your eyeliner smudged from your tears. To him, there were few times you looked better than this. “I think you’re out of practice.” You nodded, your mind clouded by your arousal. “Let’s try again, shall we?” Again you nodded, resting your hands on either thigh, noticing the wet spot on his left thigh from where you had ground against him.
A knock at the door seemed to startle both of you, but lucky for you, Crocodile was great at problem solving, specifically when it came to how he can keep his cock in your mouth. He ushered you under his desk, pulling his chair in close so you weren’t visible. “It’s me.” A voice you instantly recognized as Mihawk’s came from the other side of the door with a second knock, if you hadn’t been as close to Crocodile you would I have missed the groan that he quickly muffled with a cough.
“Yeah yeah, come in.” The cigar was back between his teeth, the pen in his hand, as though Mihawk had just walked in on him actually working. You could hear the door open, and quiet footsteps towards you.
“Did you have a chance to look everything over?”
“Yeah, just finished.” With your limited space you couldn’t move up high enough on your knees to swallow him entirely, so you were stuck just mouthing at his shaft, licking at the drips of pre cum as they slid down from his head.
“Thank you, I didn’t realize how much it was until after the meeting.” Crocodile hummed. “Unfortunately, I have more.” You heard more paper being put down on the oak desk and a groan of irritation from the man who’s cock you wanted to choke on. There was a silence that hung in the air and you couldn’t tell what was happening, which drove you crazy. “I think you should host more of our meetings, it was a much needed change of scenery from the atrocious ship that carries our flag.” Crocodile scoffs, and you can’t tell if it’s to cover up a pleasurable sound or if it was the real reaction to the sentence. You wondered if Mihawk could pick up on the smell of sex, to you it was all you could smell.
“Why don’t we go to your ship if the only reason is a change of pace?”
“Because, unfortunately I don’t have an attractive little rabbit to bring me wine at the drop of a hat. So I believe I prefer it here”
“Too bad I don’t have a little rabbit to bring you wine either, a shame really.” You could practically picture his face, an eyebrow cocked, cigar held tightly between his teeth, his nose scrunched in disgust at the thought of Mihawk giving his property such a ill suited pet name. You continued to leave sloppy kisses to the underside of his cock, occasionally running your tongue along the crest just under his head, noticing the way it bobbed when you did.
“Where is she, I’d hate to leave without showing her how grateful I was for that wine to get me through a rather dull meeting.”
“I can pass the message along to her.” You had begun nipping at his heavy balls, your hand working his shaft without getting too close to the head, worried you might bump against the table and give yourself away.
“I’d prefer to see her myself.”
“I’m sure you would, but she’s busy.” You could hear the smirk on his face and the air grew thick with silent again. You assumed Mihawk was scanning the room, eventually noticing the pile of clothes next to Crocodile’s desk, piecing everything together rapidly. You wished you could see his expression, see how his ringed eyes widened for half a second before bringing his expression back to placid.
“I suppose I’ll leave you to it then.” The quiet footsteps retreated to the door before you heard the door close again.
Crocodile pushed his chair from the desk, giving you enough room to crawl out from your spot. Before he could try to speak you were swallowing his cock just how you had tried to before being shoved under the desk. You had barely been at it for 5 minutes and your jaw was already starting to get sore but you couldn’t stop. You stroked whatever you couldn't fit into your mouth, which was progressively getting less and less but you were interrupted by his hand pulling you up by your hair. “I don’t plan on wasting my seed in your mouth.” Which was his way of saying you were doing too good of a job.
“Did he know?” Your voice was a bit gravelly but as he pulled you upright by your hair he smiled.
“Would you like it if he had?” Your lack of an answer was all he needed. “Should I call him back to watch?” He pulled the cigar from his mouth, putting it in his ashtray again before standing up. “Get on the desk, princess. I’m gonna’ make it all up to you.” You leaned back against the edge of the desk, struggling slightly for a second before you were able to scoot back further, spreading your legs as you leaned back, being mindful of the newest stack of papers.
He dragged his hook up your stomach, circling your nipples with the curved part of his hook watching with a smirk at how you arched into his touch, catching your lip between your teeth to try and hold back your whines. He slowly stroked his cock with his other hand, watching how your chest rose and fell quickly as you tried to catch your breath but with no luck. “I bet you wish he could see you now, hm?” You tried to look away from him but he was quick to guide your face back towards him with his hook. “I bet you got so wet when he called you his little rabbit.” You shook your head weakly. “Would you prefer to be splayed out on his desk?” You shook your head again, more sure this time. “No?” His hook slid down your body again, the curved back sliding between your folds as you bucked up to chase the pressure.
“I don’t want to be with him.”
“Who do you want to be with?”
“You.” He hummed, his grip on his cock tightened and his strokes slowed to a near stop.
“And who’s cock do you want?”
“Your’s.”
“Show me how wet you are.” Holding yourself as steady as you could on one elbow you used your other hand to dive between your folds. If it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by how wet you were, your slick pooling around your worked open entrance, but you know Crocodile found you the most attractive when you were splayed open and sopping wet. You finger fucked your self for a second, trying to gather as much slick as you could before pulling your digits out, separating them so Crocodile could see your arousal webbed between them. “And who got you this wet?”
“You.” You were getting annoyed with his questions, you gaze struggling to meet his instead of looking down at his cock.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” There was irritation in his inflection, he took pressing into your chest to push you down flat against the desk.
“I-I just w-want you to fuck me.” He dragged his burning hot cock along your folds, watching it glide with extreamly ease through your slick but never pushing against your entrance, much to your frustration.
“You know giving me attitude isn’t how you get what you want, unless what you’re hoping for is more neglect.” He continued rubbing his cock between your folds, the sight of his size compared to you never ceased to concern you, despite having been fucked by him countless times you always had the concern of what if it doesn’t fit?
“Daddy please.” His hook slid down your body, wrapping around your left thigh to pull it open even more, pulling your foot up to perch on the edge of the desk for leverage. His other hand abandoned his cock to grab your right thigh and press it against your chest, giving him more control over you as he pressed his cock into you finally.
The stretch always burned, whether you hadn’t had sex in weeks or less than 24. For all Crocodile is, ruthless, greedy, cruel, he was extremely conscious of his size in comparison to yours. When you bared your teeth at the stretch he leaned over you, pausing halfway inside of you as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, shushing you. “You’re doing so good for me, just relax.” His voice was quiet, this tone was one reserved only for you.
“It’s b-been so long it hurt-s.” You pinched your eyes closed, feeling tears prick at the corners.
“I know princess, I know. Just relax and I’ll go real slow, we have all the time in the world.” His hand slipped between the two of you, rubbing gentle circles on your clit in hopes of getting you more wet and distracting you from the discomfort. “You’re such a good girl for daddy.” He pressed his hips into you again, slowly. You could feel every inch of him bully its way into your body until his head was pressed against your cervix, finally fully inside. “Look how good you’re doing, how’s that feel?” His forehead was pushed against your’s, his eyes glued to your expression, waiting for you to open your eyes. You could smell his smoke on his breath mixed with his expensive scent, you could feel his warm breath puff out over your face as you slowly opened your eyes. The first thing you saw was his scar, stretched over the bridge of his nose, then you finally met his grey eyes that were glued to you. “How’s it feel?” He repeated, this time a bit more stern.
“It’s getting better.” he hummed in acknowledgment.
“Suppose I should do something to distract you, what do you think?” You nodded, your doe eyes making him want to ravage you but he forced himself to hold back, admitting to himself that it had, in fact, been quite a while since you two had had sex and he knew his size was a struggle for someone half his size. “Lean back for me, baby girl.” He straightened up enough to prompt you to lay back, your hands out at your sides waiting for his next move.
With his cock still nestled inside your tight walls he leaned forward again, lips pressing kisses from your belly button to your clavicle, before branching off and trailing kisses to your nipple. You expected him to run his tongue over the hard bud, to tease you until you were writhing on the desk, but instead he sucked on it, drawing cries from your lips. He could feel you relax around him and all he wanted to do was throw your legs over his shoulders and fuck you so hard he would have to carry you everywhere with him. But he resisted. Upon instinct, hands grabbed his head keeping him close to your chest as he suckled. Your fingers carded through his slicked back hair, something you rarely ever got to do, especially not during sex. But you had been such a good girl, he would let you have this one.
“D-daddy I think-“ You got caught off by him pulling his cock out, not entirely but enough that a high pitched gasp slipped from your lips and cut your sentence off prematurely.
”What was that?” He released your nipple and pulled away from your skin, your arms opting to move to his neck rather than letting him go completely.
“I need you t-to move, p-please.” He obligated, slowly thrusting back into you, hoping you weren’t still uncomfortable but taking it slow on the off chance you were.
“How’s that feel, princess” You took a deep breath, your head lolling backwards.
”Feels so good, daddy, so good.”
“Doesn’t hurt anymore?” You shook your head, your arms slipping from around his neck as he stood up straight, pulling one of your legs over his shoulder, the other dangling limply off the desk. ”Good, now I want you to do something for me.” He leisurely fucked you, enjoying how your walls no longer resisted his intrusion.
“Anything.”
“I want you to be as loud as you want, let that pesky Mihawk know whose cock you want.” You loved when he was possessive of you, you wouldn’t have been all that surprised if he called Mihawk in to watch him fuck you, and frankly, you wouldn’t have protested that in the least. ”Think you can handle that?” You nodded, a breathy yes the only thing you could really manage. The small part of your brain that wasn’t lost in the pleasure of Crocodile’s cock finally fucking into you wondered if Mihawk really was still around, if he actually would hear you. But that part of your brain wasn’t able to function for much longer once you were put into a mating press.
Your moans flowered from your open mouth like the sound of rushing water from a river. He always tried to muffle his own sound, pressing his face into your neck when he felt his own peak rapidly approaching. “Fuck princess, never felt a cunt like yours.” The desk was shaking from his strength, the stack of papers beside you was beginning to shift.
“Croc-co, fuck it f-feels so good!” You wrapped your arms around his wide back, digging your nails into the expensive silk back of his vest. He was past the point of his toying, unable to put together a sentence the only sounds coming out of his mouth were animalistic grunts into your neck.
“Gonna’ fill you up so good, do you want that baby girl, do you want me to fill that greedy little cunt of yours?” You tried to speak but every time you opened your mouth all that came out were a slew of moans. His hand slid down your thigh and found its way to your clit, his thumb rubbing it in uneven circles as his cock pressed against your cervix repeatedly. “Are you going to cum?” He lifted his head from your neck so he could see you, see your cock drunk expression as you nodded. “Ask me for it.”
“D-daddy daddy please, please let me cum, I wanna cum around your cock!” Your words were sloppy and punctuated by moans but it seemed to appease him. His thrusts changed, his pace uneven and the force was enough to knock the stack of papers off the desk, not their either of you noticed.
He came first but the feeling of warmth that spread through you as he pressed the pad of his thumb against your clit was enough to force you over the edge seconds after. Your back arched off the table, your toes pointed and tensed around his shoulders. There was no doubt in your mind that if Mihawk were still aboard he was extremely aware of what was going on in this office.
Crocodile’s thrusts slowed until eventually he stilled. You were trying to catch your breath but it seemed impossible, especially with the weight of his entire body on top of you. You wanted to move, to pull your legs off his shoulders but you didn’t want to risk him getting up and going back to work. He didn’t stay on top of you for long, eventually straightening up and looking you up and down, all while his cock was still nestled between your walls.
He reached for his cigar, bringing it to his lips and pulling hard on it, hoping some of the embers would flare to life again. He guided your legs off his shoulders, pressing a kiss to your ankles as he did so. As he pulled his cock from your cunt slowly, he watched as his cum began to work its way out of you. Idolly as he stood over you, cigar in his mouth he ran his big fingers in the milky liquid that was cascading from your fucked hole, almost trying to push it back into you.
You still were out of it, your hips bucking from overstimulation anytime he grazed your clit. “Do you feel better, baby?” He wiped his fingers on your thigh before cupping your cheek, pulling your unfocused gaze to him. You blinked a few times, trying to unblur your eyes as you nodded.
“I think I may need you to carry me to bed.” He chuckled, stepping away from you for the first time since you had come over to his desk. He picked up your discarded clothes before returning to his spot between your legs, taking a second to stuff his cock back into his slacks and do them up again. Carefully and with great care he guided you into a sitting position and helped you pull your dress over your head, leaving your panties, bra and socks on his desk before picking you up bridal style. You leaned against his chest as he carried you out of the office, the steady sound of his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
Sleep that you were quickly pulled from. “I take it the second stack of papers has yet to be looked at?” You heard the faint sound of a wine glass being placed on the board room table as you passed by the open doors. Crocodile paused in the doorway, turning to look at him for a second before smirking,
“Let me put my little rabbit to bed then I’ll go look at them.”
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innorogers · 2 days
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Reverie
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Steve Rogers x Reader (You)
Summary: Steve doesn't care about you past, but he is hesitating if he should take things further. Until he saw that punk trying to make a move on you...wait, did he say his name is Walker? John Fucking Walker?!
Warning: Minors DNI / Minors DNI / First Time / First Date / Fluff? / Smut / Unprotected Sex /
Characters: Natasha, Tony, OCs, John Walker, Timeline is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive.
Also: You don't have to read the previous two chapters, but it would enhance the experience if you did. And thanks in advance for repost or any feedback ❤️
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Chapter 1: Insomnia | Chapter 2: Lucid
"We'd better get going…" you panted between breaths, your words more moans and whispers than actual sentences. As his lips moved further into your skin, the glasses of the windows grow foggier and steamed.
"...I know... we should," he replied, marking your collarbone with his voice hoarse and raspy. One hand pressed against your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his hip, while the other tangled in your hair. "I just don’t think I can…" he muttered, kissing your breast and leaving love marks, sucking and soothing them.
Me neither. You thought to yourself while grabbing his head to pull him closer. And I don't want to.
But the car horns honked twice outside the building, jolting Steve to a halt.
"Shit, I don’t think we’re getting away with this..." he sighs, breathing heavily as he rested his head on your shoulder, trying to calm his body. It was hard, though, especially with you looking the way you did—hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, forehead damp, and lips swollen. Goddamn, you are sexy as fuck. Your shirt was half-torn, shoulders marked with bites, and you were panting in a way that drove him wild.
"We need to..." He tried to button up your shirt but sighed and gave up. Honestly, he wanted to do the opposite.
You laughed, fixing his messy hair. Jumping off the desk, helped straighten his collar. "There." You smiled up at him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "As much as I want to stay, we’d better hurry."
"I know, I know..." Steve grumbled as the car honked again. "Do you need to change?" he asked, adjusting his shirt and glancing at the waiting car.
"Nope, thank goodness for this," you said, grabbing your lab coat. "Or it would be too obvious." You covered yourself and smoothed out your clothes.
"Too obvious of what?" he teased. "You think they’ll suspect something?"
"Well... no." You quickly got ready and helped him by tugging the back of his shirt. "I doubt anyone expects us to show up together—they’ll just think it’s a coincidence."
"Tony knows. That’s why he sent the damn car." Steve scoffed, taking your hand as he led you outside, opening the door for you.
"In his defense, this meeting was set two weeks ago." You smiled, taking his hand once seated, fingers intertwined as you sighed contentedly. "I just forgot because I was... very distracted."
The car began moving, thankfully driverless and on autopilot, giving Steve the chance to take your hand again. The cool AC calmed both of you, letting you think more clearly. You tried to focus on the upcoming meeting, but it was impossible when he started kissing your fingers.
"He wants us to concentrate and send a car with no driver?" Steve grinned as the campus blurred by. “He is challenging my imagination.”
"Maybe no one wants to see what’s happening here," you whispered in his ear, as if anyone could hear. "Or we'd have to kill them afterward."
He laughed, finally relaxing, just holding your hand and gazing out the window.
You tried too, looking at the passing green grass and buildings, but your eyes kept drifting to him. And your mind is going wild. 
OMG what you’ve done, and what's happening here.
You and Steve had only met two days ago on the training field at midnight. Both of you were suffering from insomnia, and what began as a friendly, slightly naïve conversation to help each other sleep turned into the best night of your lives. 
And now... this.
Well, you weren’t sure what "this" was. 
After that night, he walked you to your room, kissed you goodnight, and probably went straight to read your file. 
Then, the next thing you knew, he showed up at your secluded lab and kissed you like there was no tomorrow.
Until your boss/friend Mr. Stark interrupted you from heading a home run all the way, by calling to remind you there were cameras everywhere and that PG-18 scenes should be saved for after hours or, better yet, off-campus. 
He also kindly reminded you that the meeting both of you were expected was in 20 minutes. And just in case you "got carried away and lost track of time," his words, he sent the car.
After a few seconds of silence, as you try to make sense of things, Steve suddenly realizes: "I don’t even remember what this meeting is about."
"It’s not a meeting. Technically, it’s a... how’d you call it? Hmm... an opening ceremony?" You repeat the words Tony used when he walked you through it. 
"Important people from important groups are coming to visit around, and to make peace after the Blip. They’re deploying their heavy hitters, so all our level 3s have to be there."
"And you’re... level... 2?" Steve asked, trying to recall. He had read your file but only focused on some key details of your past, not the present.
"I’m a level A," you chuckled at Steve’s 'is that even a thing?' expression and explained, "Just like Peter Parker. I have access to everything, as long as Tony wants me to."
"Oh... and... why do you need to be there?" Steve wanted to know more, but as the car approached the destination, he could see people walking toward the grand hall.
"Well, I’m not expected by the guests, but by Tony. And you know what they say: the most dangerous place is the safest. After all, I’m not exactly on their 'white list'..."
You saw his expression change, and he tightened his grip on your hand. "You shouldn’t be hiding. You didn’t do anything wrong."
"I didn’t?" You looked into his eyes, and he didn’t know how to respond. He hadn’t had the time, or the courage, to read your full file. He was just following his instincts about you, his feelings, and his heart.
"But still, I don’t think they’re ready for 'this'." You gestured to your intertwined hands. 
"And this shouldn’t be the topic of today’s conversation. I think this event is more about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ kinda stuff…"
That made him laugh. He leaned his head back against the seat, muttering softly, "I wouldn’t care if they saw us."
"Eventually." You smiled at him. "And there’s something sexy about keeping it a secret, Captain." You sit in closer. "I like it." You blinked, motioning to the people passing by the car. 
"When they’re out there... and they don’t know... about this." Then you leaned forward to give him a kiss.
Steve’s body tensed at the touch of your lips, so you immediately pulled back, thinking you were pushing too far. 
"Yeah you are right, I’m sorry, they might have seen us..." You nervously glanced outside. "Although these windows..." and before you could finish, he grabbed you by the shoulders and kissed you deeply and fiercely, leaving you breathless.
"You’re right," he whispered, his voice low and ragged, as he bites your lower lip. "It is sexy. I love when you do things like this...it drives me crazy..."
“Oh…” your face was burning: “That’s settled then.” And you see the car is about to enter the parking lot arriving at its destination: “Can we do that again?”
Steve let out a loud chuckle before leaning over and kissed you gently: “Yes ma’am.” 
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To be honest, he doesn’t know what he is doing either.
As soon as Steves leaves you – You’ve finally decided to enter the compound separately, but not before he kissed you deep and hard in the elevator – His mind starts to clear. Senses are coming back to him.
As one of the greatest military tacticians in history, Steve acknowledges your past: a Hydra experiment, held captive your entire life until your escape and rescue; he knows you weren’t brainwashed, but borned and raised under Hydra’s control, and yes, he met you just two days ago.
His reasonable mind is making a lot of rational thinking as the military savant he is, and his strategies have always been like complex webs of logic, each thread delicately woven to ensure victory, while his enemies find themselves ensnared before they even realize it.
So yeah, he should be analyzing you, reading your file, investigating your past, predicting your moves—or at the very least, watching you closely to see if any remnants of Hydra remain.
But instead…
He can’t take his eyes off you.
You were steps ahead of him, and he felt like seeing you through those large professional lenses, where all the background is blurred in macro, drawing circles of light, and only your silhouette is sharpened.
You were smiling and nodding to people saying hi to you, a little bit shy, somehow oddly adorable... He was in awe. Some folks saluted you as if with…respect? He observed quietly. He even saw a lab guy saying to his teammate something like 'omg she said hi back to me'.
What's your superpower, Steve wondered. 
He’s sure he never noticed you before (how could he have missed you?), and he's certain you’ve never been on a mission together.
Suddenly, someone with a lab coat runs by your side, all excited as if they've drunk ten coffees in a row. 
"Dr. Lancaster, Dr. Lancaster? I figured it out..." He shows you an iPad, and Steve can see how everyone around you is pretending to be minding their own business but is actually listening to the conversation.
“…If we could modify the energy matrix in the arc reactor, we could potentially bypass the Coulomb barrier altogether…we can be talking about cold fusion without the magnetic confinement…!” The lab guy seems all over the clouds.
“Oh.” You look surprised yet shy, you sweep your hair back: “um…How do you plan on stabilizing the reaction without the electromagnetic field imploding?”
“I knew you’d get it!” The tech was so excited he nearly dropped his glasses: “What if we shift the reactor’s frequency to align with zero-point energy fluctuations?” He was jumping all over the place: “The Casimir effect could, theoretically, counterbalance the repulsion long enough to initiate fusion. No magnetic field required!”
“You wanna um…tapping into the vacuum energy of the quantum field to power the reaction?” You look amazed but concerned: “I mean, sure, theory holds, but the amount of energy you’d need to harness would be… astronomical. How do you prevent runaway entropy?”
“If you can artificially create a gravitational lens, focus the zero-point fluctuations and keep them from destabilizing. That’s how I did it.” A voice chimes in from behind. 
Tony, hands in his fancy suit pockets, shrugs and taps his watch. "Five minutes everyone, or you'll miss the warm-up act."
When everyone hears the big boss, they start walking faster toward the compound. 
Tony glances at you and the lab tech. “Test that theory using vibranium as the containment medium. It can store large amounts of kinetic energy without degrading, so you won’t vaporize this whole place. The first prototype is broken and used, so…we can get another one. And honey…” He turns to you and, with a glance at Steve, sighs in irritation. “Ugh... forget it.”
Tony walks past Steve and whispers as they head inside, "Ten minutes late. That’s a first."
“And worth every second,” Steve replies, giving you a final glance, smiling as he notices your blush.
“So... what’s her talent?” he asks once they’re a bit further away.“Being super smart?” 
It sounded sarcastic but he was super serious. Steve might’ve once thought being smart wasn’t a superpower, but after witnessing what Tony and Bruce can do, he now knows it’s one of the most powerful things of all.
“Yeah ‘smart’ is not even close, ‘brilliant’, or ‘magnificently intelligent’ would be the right words, and also…not that’s that important, but um…” Tony makes that typical ‘not a big deal’ face, trying to play it off.
“She…um…She possesses bio-synthetic ocular emitters that generate and manipulate high-frequency electromagnetic radiation across a variable spectrum, allowing her to penetrate solid matter and perceive stratified atomic structures and molecular compositions in real-time, facilitated by a neuro-integrated quantum processing cortex that reconstructs layered 3D imaging at the subatomic level with unparalleled precision."
Tony winks at Steve. And then rolls his eyes and says: “She’s got some kinda X-ray vision that lets her see the layers and components of things.”
“Couldn’t you just say that…”
They walk past the people and head backstage, where the team and a bunch of other people are waiting. Steve knows they won't be able to continue the conversation due to all the smart chat they'll need to do with these VIPs, so he stops before entering the room.
He needs to ask the most important question.
“Why did you keep her? Nat said you went through hell to keep her out of the feds' reach. Why?”
Tony raises an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smirk. Oh, Rogers, you’re falling hard, huh? He blinks at Steve. 
“Do you want me to be brutally honest?”
“Don’t I always?”
Iron Man started counting: “First, I genuinely think that someone with those powers would be highly prejudicial and harmful if she is on any side but ours. Second, I like her, well, not in the same way you like 'like' her...…but she is good, she is…” He tries to find a word: “Selfless. That makes me nuts, cause when you have no human ambition, what you gonna do to be a keeper, right?  Aaaand third, she asked. So...”
He shrugged his shoulders and started thinking aloud and spoke quickly as Tony always does. “You know what? This is perfect, yeah, so…I’ve struggled…no, never mind, this is perfect. Yeah ok, we gotta go…” 
He tilts his head toward Pepper, who’s staring at him. “Before I get locked out tonight.”
Steve has a hundred more questions, but when he sees Maria giving him the same look Pepper is giving Tony, along with all those important suits waiting, he gives in. “Yeah... right. The heavy hitters.”
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The "heavy hitters" weren’t just important people from important organizations. 
There was the Secretary of Defense, a bunch of senators, generals and colonels from the U.S. Army, the National Security Advisor—whatever the title is—Wakandan generals, CIA directors and their agents, and a whole lot of U.S. soldiers.
Steve was impressed, not by their presence, but because he had completely forgotten this event was on the agenda. And the reason for that? You.
Yeah the whole speeches, panels, interactions were just as you said, about ‘how we’re friends again with the Avengers’ or ‘world peace is our only priority,’ blah blah blah, Steve wasn’t even listening. Who gives a damn.
His thoughts were elsewhere.
He was focused on you, and his mind was a mess.
So you can see through solid objects, huh? Does that work on people too? Do you see him as a walking skeleton? Is your power what makes you so smart, or were you always brilliant and Hydra just added the ability? Are you free tonight? What did you mean when you asked if he “considered taking this thing further”? Further to where? To like a date, or further as…forever?  Is that a love bite on your neck? Did he do that? God, you look stunning with your hair like that...
“If your gaze were a lightsaber, that poor girl would be ashes by now,” Natasha whispered as she leaned over to Steve. “Would you stop? It’s really weird.”
Steve chuckled, trying to put on a serious face, but he couldn’t help himself. He glanced at the speaker on stage, doing his best to focus.
It was a struggle, though. From what he knew about you, you came across as socially naive, unworldly even, with a deep trust in others. He was tempted but didn’t want to do anything that might feel like he was taking advantage of your vulnerability.
But…he’s doing it again, staring at you from afar, you look so adorable, damn it. Your hair is still a little messy, standing in the crowd and biting your thumbnail like a bored student waiting for the bell to ring.
You caught his stare, your eyes flicking up, and Steve couldn’t help but smile at you. He mouthed a ‘I miss you’, and your heart raced so fast you dropped your phone. Someone passing by picked it up for you, and you probably mumbled something like “'ank you” cheeks blazing so red you couldn’t even make eye contact or finish the sentence.
Steve forced himself to look away, but the grin wouldn’t leave his face. His expression must have been strange because even the speaker started to turn red. 
Natasha nudged him with an elbow, and they both smiled at the poor guy, who was now panicking under the combined stares of Captain America and Black Widow.
“Hey…” Steve overheard a voice behind him.
“Do you know who that girl is?” The guy who picked your phone up—some military man—was talking to his teammate, he was several rows behind and talking low but Steve could hear it anyway.
“Who? Where?” his companion asked.
“That one, I just picked up her phone. There…in the second row.”
“Oh! That one? That’s…” The team mate teased: “…someone completely out of your league.”
“Shut up.” The guy chuckled: “I’m gonna give it a try anyway. I’ll ask for her number. Damn that’s the most beautiful girl I’ve seen.”
Ok. Steve clenched his jaw. Fuck chivalry. He was done worrying about your social skills. Maybe it was time to take your advice and take things further. Or he could have Jarvis or Friday change your number...
“I bet you don’t get it.” A third voice joined the conversation. "Hoskins is right, Walker. She’s out of your league."
Did he just said, Walker? Steve’s eyes widened as his fists tightened.
“Yeah John, first round you don’t get it.”
“Well…” John laughs, “Guess you’ll be buying two rounds for me and my date tonight.”
In your fucking dreams, Walker. Stay the fuck away from my girl. Steve pulled out his phone. Not even thinking about how you’d gone from "who is she?" and "what are her powers?" to "my girl."
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A message from an unknown sender just popped up on your screen.
"What are you doing tonight?"
You frowned. Who is this?
You usually don't give your number to others. Mainly because you don't actually know your number (you don't have enough social events to bother remembering it). Plus, it’s in the public records for investigation departments, in case someone from work needs it. Cause who else would need it?
You glanced around. A few colleagues were watching you, but none gave any obvious signs of being the sender. 
Just in case, you replied: "Testing in the lab." The task Tony had given you earlier sounded promising, and you’re eager to give it a try.
"Can I join you?" The reply comes almost instantly. Must be Dr. Lin then—it’s his discovery, after all. Makes sense.
"Sure." you reply.
"Anything you’d prefer for dinner?"
Oh. No, wait. Now you're uncertain. When was the last time Dr. Lin had anything but organic food? The guy counts calories in every meal since you’ve known him.
"Who is this?"
Steve let out a loud laugh, and everyone stared at him, especially the speaker on stage, who was in the middle of a serious and tragic speech and was going through the emotional part.
"Stop it." Natasha shook her head, warning him in a whisper while smiling at the speaker. "Just stop it."
Tony rolled his eyes in the front row. Ugh, lovefools.
But Steve couldn’t stop laughing, and he didn’t stop messaging you.
"I’m your date, if you’ll have me."
"Oh. Mike? Sorry, I didn’t have your number."
His laugh stopped.
"Just kidding, Cap. I’ll have whatever you want ;)"
Oh damn, you got him. His heart leaped back into place. Steve looked up and spotted you, blushing as you put your phone away. He felt like giving a big smile but held back—for the poor speaker’s sake, who had already been tortured enough.
"A date it is." he replied. He considered adding an emoji, but nope—he didn’t know how that worked.
So, "whatever you want", huh? What should he bring? Did you mention anything about your preferences the night you met? Italian? Chinese? Thai? Japanese?
"Is there..." he asked Nat, his voice low enough only she could hear, "any good takeout within five minutes?"
Natasha was about to answer when her phone buzzed with a message from Tony: "Tell Rogers to knock it off." 
So they both put on their best serious faces and listened to the rest of the speech. Luckily, it was short, and Steve applauded harder than he should, just to make up for his weird behavior throughout.
"If you go straight to her." Once the whole thing was over, Natasha said softly in a voice only he could hear, "it’ll be too obvious. And Tony and Rhodey will shoot lasers from their eyes to your ass, stay put, this is important."
"I know." Steve smiled, shook hands with some senator, and stuck around for a bit of small talk, though his attention was elsewhere. 
He spotted John Walker approaching you. So moving without drawing attention, Steve shifted the group he was with closer to you.
He hated to admit it, but John Walker? The guy was fine. In that military uniform, with all those badges, he could probably charm any girl—if this wasn’t a hall full of superheroes. Steve listened carefully through the room’s noise, trying to catch your conversation.
Of course, you had no idea.
You didn’t know someone was nearby, standing and staring at you. You were too busy smiling at your phone like an idiot.
"Excuse me. What?" you asked when this guy repeated himself. The hall was full of chatter, so you had to get closer to hear.
"John Walker, ma’am." He flashed a bright smile, but you weren’t looking.
"Oh." You recognized him as the guy who picked up your phone earlier, and a blush crept onto your face as you recalled how clumsy you’d been, dropping your phone because Steve had smiled at you. 
"Oh... yeah, um, I’m Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster. Thank you for that... Captain?" You weren’t sure about his rank, guessing based on the uniform.
"Nice to meet you, Ilithyia, Ilithyia Lancaster." He widened his smile, mistaking your blush for something else, and shook your hand. "Well... since I rescued your phone, any chance I could get your number?"
"Aw!" Steve’s hand suddenly clamped down on some poor guy’s during a handshake. "Quite a grip you’ve got there, Cap."
 "I beg your pardon." Steve forced a smile through clenched teeth, still listening to your conversation.
"Oh..." Now you were blushing for real. "Um..." You were trying to figure out how to get out of this awkward situation. 
Not only because you didn’t know your number, but also because you didn’t want to give it to Captain Walker. 
You thought fast and came up with the first lame excuse that popped into your head.
"I can’t. " 
You look at him with your most innocent and serious face. You sound so sincere and genuine.
"It’s confidential."
Steve let out a burst of laughter. That’s my girl. The senator in front of him—yes, the same one he had been teasing through the whole event—went pale. He was telling another moving story about his experience during the Blip when Captain America giggled. 
Tony threw an arm around Steve’s neck and mumbled in a warning tone: "What. Is. Wrong. With. You?"
"I’m so sorry." Steve hurried after the poor man, trying to keep a straight face. "Come on, Senator Kingsley...I’m sorry…" 
As soon as John Walker’s attention shifted to Steve, you took a step back and mumbled something like, "Um... Nice to meet you, Captain Walker. Gotta go."
"Yeah, what? Yeah, sure..." Walker turned around, but you were long gone before he could come up with a smart reply.
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Of course, you had to go—you had a date.
Two hours later, the idea was still circling in your mind. But...
"What am I wearing?" you suddenly blurted out.
"...What?" Dr. Lin looked at you, confused. "Now? A white coat…" 
He was just in a very inspirational speech about the theory of a quantum anchor to handle subatomic fluctuations when you interrupted with that.
You thought for a second, then decided you didn’t give a shit about the possibility of opening a wormhole that could deviate spatial-temporal coordinates or create a cascading paradox that unravels dimensions as you know them. You cared more about the upcoming date.
It was not just a date, it was the date.
So you took a deep breath, looked at your colleague seriously, and said, "I have a date, Dr. Lin. And I don’t know what to wear because I’ve never had one."
"Oh..." Dr. Lin looked you over. "That’s not a surprise, Dr. Lancaster." He whispered something like, "We should have known... you live and breathe only in this lab... just like your plants."
"I don’t have... anything." You spread your hands. "He’s coming to my lab in a few hours... should I...?" burn all my clothes and buy new ones? No way you’d make it in time.
"Well." He gave you a ‘what are you gonna do’ face and circled you. "Mm... not much we can do, actually. Here, lift your hair. No, not all of it, leave some strands. Yes..." He took off your glasses. "Do you have lipstick? No?! You don’t? Girl... GOD. Um... okay."
He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a chapstick. "Here. This is cherry. I don’t know... um... oh, and this!" He handed you a bottle. "Put this on."
"What is this?" You opened the tube, sniffing it. "Perfume?"
"Better. This, Dr. Lancaster, is the Felix Felicis of perfumes."
"Like... in Harry Potter?"
"Theoretically, this is a chemical liquid compound that exhibits adaptive olfactory reactivity, dynamically modulating its molecular structure upon detecting neurochemical feedback from the subject's sensory receptors, thereby... transforming into the individual's most psychologically favored aromatic profile." He grinned like a proud scientist.
"So, it’s a magic liquid that becomes your favorite scent when you smell it?"
"Not favorite, Dr. Lancaster. The most arousing smell." Dr. Lin’s eyes lit up as he introduced his invention. 
"Girl, put this on, I guarantee, he’ll be all over you. And call me Robert, I beg you.”
"Is that..." You raised an eyebrow. "Is that even legal?" And this was Steve you were talking about—the guy had senses times four.
"Oh come on, just use one drop." Dr. Lin dabbed a bit on his finger and tapped it on your neck. "There. I don’t think he’ll even notice, but just in case..."
"Oh. Okay." You still didn’t know what to expect.
"Look, I’ll leave you to it then." Dr. Lin—no, Robert—gathered his things. "Enough testing for today. And you’re gonna tell me all about it on Monday, okay? Oh, and Dr. Lancaster..." 
He glanced around your lab. "This is perfect. Private, secluded... just make sure to put away all the explosive liquids you have around... ok? See ya!"
“Oh.” You glance around too. Yeah, that’s a great point, you nod as you wave goodbye to a very excited Dr. Lin, still not having a clue what you’re supposed to do. So, you do what you do best: you work.
You do a little bit of cleaning, organizing; the place looks amazing, at least from your point of view, and since you had time, you start another round of testing.
You don’t even notice when Steve walks in, with the sunset sky behind him and the first stars rising in the north. He’s carrying a basket, and his breath is taken away by the sight of you standing at your workbench, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, turning the whole room into a glowing, serene golden rose.
He stands there for a while, just watching, taking it all in.
“Cap, are you coming in anytime soon?” you ask, adjusting the metal pieces of the robotic arm. 
“I’m really hungry and tired of pretending I’m so cool with robotics here.”
Steve laughs and sets the basket on the table before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your hair. “Hey.”
You inhale deeply, finally letting go of the breath you’d been holding since you heard his footsteps. 
“Well, that’s not gonna do.” You smile and give him a proper kiss on the lips. “Yeah, now I’m recharged.”
Steve grins, holding you tighter as he kisses you back. “Yeah, me too.” He deepens the kiss. “God… you smell so good.”
Oh wow. You open your eyes as you return the kiss. Did Dr. Lin’s magic elixir really work this fast?
Well, then there’s a good chance this could go further, right?
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Of course he’s taking it further.
Steve doesn’t know what’s come over him. 
Maybe it’s because he’s been thinking about you all day. Maybe it’s because he was so mad and determined to be with you after that punk tried to make a move on you. Or maybe it’s just you—you have this unknown thing that drives him wild.
It's the way you move, the way you smile or talk or breathe or just… exist, that makes him unreasonably and madly… in love.
You finish dinner (a unanimously voted menu by the whole team—who knew the Avengers were so bored?), and are just starting on the cold white wine when he tries to wipe some ice cream from your lips. The next thing you know… you’re all over the couch.
Well, you started it, you think as he hovers over you. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have bitten his thumb when he was caressing your lips, or maybe you shouldn’t have breathed so heavily while he was kissing you and roaming over your body. Maybe you shouldn’t have whispered his name like that… but oh god, who cares? It feels so good.
“We should…” Stop. Steve tries to pull out his rational side, but his hands are far too busy running down your side, lingering on your hip.
“Go to bed?” You’re panting and shivering, your hands on his neck and his back, trying to pull him closer. “There’s, um… a bedroom right at the back, and… it has a beautiful garden view.” As if that mattered now at all.
Steve lets out a soft chuckle, resting his head on your neck. Then, after a pause, he lifts himself slightly, creating some space between you two.
“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… there’s no coming back from that. Are you…” He gasps, caressing your face. “And if we don’t do anything, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
“And…” You sit up straight, looking at him, intrigued. “How… how do you feel about me?”
“It feels...” He thinks for a moment, intertwining your fingers with his and giving you a soft smile.
“Correct. Right. Complete.” He kisses your fingers, then looks up at you. “You make me feel complete.” He paused: “And you?”
You stay there for a moment in silence, glancing at him.
“Like…”
You try to describe it with nice words but you can’t.
“It's like my heart is so full, I can’t take it anymore…” You inhale as if you're feeling it right now and smile. “Like all the stars have fallen to one place and are shining too brightly.”
There's a moment of quiet before Steve speaks, his voice soft, like making a wish.
“I wish I’d found you sooner. I wish… I could’ve spent all the years I’ve been here with you.”
“This is perfect.” You kiss him with a smile, gentle and devoted. 
“Everything is perfect.”
He smiles and kisses you back, gently cupping your face in his hands, his touch filled with tenderness and love. But as the kiss deepens, Steve feels like he's burning. 
Everything about you is a vortex of sensations: his mind fuzzy, your warm body in his arms, your hair smelling of white roses, your sweet breath, your lips, and your tongue. He pulls you closer, one hand sliding down to rest on your hip, rougher than before, his lips moving more insistently. He doesn’t want to stop; he needs to feel more of you.
“If you’re not stopping…” He hesitates. “I don’t think I can …”
“I don’t want you to.” You sit on his lap, holding him close, fingers in his hair, whispering.
Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his voice a little rougher than usual, his gaze locked onto you like a lifeline.
“Are you sure?”
“…Steve…” Your voice is almost a plea. “Please don’t make me beg…”
And that does it.
Steve lets your request override any other thought. His tongue explores your mouth, hungrily claiming it as his own. One hand grips your hip, pulling your body flush against his. His mind is a mess, tangled with desire and excitement, everything around him melting away except for you. He leans into you more, guiding you back until your hips hit the nearest wall, pinning you there.
“Where's the bed?” he whispers in your ear. You stretch out your arm and point in the right direction.
“Hold on tight.” He smiles as he carries you to the room at the back and can’t help but awe when he arrives.
“Oh, so it was true. It has an amazing view.” He admires the floor-to-ceiling window with the garden in full bloom outside, bathed in a violet and blue sunset.
You laugh between the pillows. “Would you mind… saving that for later?”
Steve chuckles as he comes back to your lips and your arms: “I’m sorry…” his fingers follows the line of your body, pressing one in your waist and the other interlocking with yours: “I promise nothing will distract me from you now…” 
He was feeling the surge of his powers –  everything was enhanced: the scent of you on the bed sheets, the shivers running through your skin at his touch, the way your hair brushed against him, and the intoxicating sound of your voice…his body was reacting accordingly, and it was impossible to hold back. 
Especially when you kicked off your clothes and he could feel the whole of you: your skin silky and warm, the jasmine scent from your bath lingering. He was utterly lost in lust.
He feels his heart racing, his breath coming in short gasps, his hands guiding you with slow, deliberate movements, trying to hold onto some control despite the intensity of his desire. 
He interlocks your hand with his, while the other holds your face. He can’t look away from your gaze as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer, sparking a wildfire of need within him. He whispers your name against your lips, his voice thick with hunger and longing.
“I don’t think I can’t hold back any longer…”
You gasp, drowning in a whirlwind of emotion: “Please don’t hold back…anything...” And you feel him to complete you, his fingers entwined with yours, murmuring something before sealing you with a kiss.
The moment he was in you was overwhelming, but you wouldn't recall the pain.
You were filled with sensations, having his lips in your ears, the fierce pressure of his fingers interlaced with yours, his body as close to yours as it could possibly be. Every centimeter of your being was united with his, melting into his warmth.
You felt him everywhere. In the intense gaze he held as he moved in a pace to match your pleasure, in his low moans and groans,in the droplets of sweat falling from his body onto yours, in his shivers and trembling, in the way he pressed his hand in your waist and marked every movement as he was lost in lust.
“God…” 
Oh no, Steve was not lost, he was drunk in a haze of pleasure and need. 
He had this urge of possession, hunger of dominance, mixed with the overwhelming and insatiable need of you.
He looks at you. Your watery eyes glistening with pleasure and desire, your moaning lips, red and swollen, naked body covered by a thin sweat and marks he left in your collarbone, in your shoulders and breasts, you dig your fingers into his skin, the sounds of your moans filling his ears and driving him even wilder.
“Please don’t stop…” 
God that begging tone of yours, he just can’t take it, he needs more.
“Steve…” You whispered again, your hands cupping his face. His breath mingled with yours as he leaned in closer: “please…don't stop…”
Steve moaned, his brain short-circuiting momentarily at your words, the sound of your voice begging it drives him wild with need and desire. 
He tightens his grip on your hips, his movements becoming rougher and rougher as you beg for him and you are lost in his fastened paces, and he knows you are close, the moans that’re leaving your lips driving him mad.
“Babe you are driving me insane…” He can't hold back his low growl as you whisper in his ear, his movements becoming more urgent and rough as he pushes you harder, his hands gripping your thighs tighter as he gives you what you ask for, pulling you closer and closer, and he can’t help to moan as he looks at you reaching your climax: “Yeah baby that’s it…I got you…” 
You gave in as he kissed you and the bed knocked so hard against the wall, Steve’s senses are coming to an edge too as you finally reach the limit, your moan is the most perfect and most pleasing thing he’s ever heard. 
He murmurs your name on the verge of losing control, so you press your whole body to him as helping to be there, Steve’s mind suddenly goes blank as the pleasure takes over, every sense, every nerve ending consumed by ecstasy. 
He cums long and warm inside you, and that alone makes you feel you could come all over again. 
His words strangled groans of pleasure. He looks down at you, completely at your mercy, eyes hazy, filled with pure, unadulterated ecstasy as he tries to speak, but you seal his words with a deep kiss. 
“That was…” His breaths came in hard and fast: “That felt…”
“Complete.” You finish the sentence for him.
Complete. He used the right word. That’s how you felt. 
He laughs and falls on top of you, cupping your face and kissing your chin, removing stands of sweaty hair from your face. 
His chest is rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, his body still quivering from the intensity of the orgasm. 
" I... I've never experienced anything like that…You were incredible…You're incredible…"
You were panting too. But you were also reacting over his kisses.
Oh damn, Dr. Lin’s felix felicis worked just fine.
“So…um…” You couldn’t catch your breath: “You do have…Saturdays off, right? Does…the Avengers get that? Weekends?”
“What?” He was already laughing when you asked, but still nodded: “Yeah I have time…”
“And…how fast does your serum work? Do you need to like…some hours to recover?” 
“What?” Steve can't help but let out a laugh at your question. You marvelous, adorable, perfect girl. You are the woman of his dreams. 
He leans in to kiss you. Yes, complete. That’s definitely the word. He had never felt this way with anyone before, but when he was with you, everything seemed to align, as if the universe had conspired to bring you both to this moment, to this connection. He felt like a lost star in the universe finally finding its way home.
“Hours?” He kisses your neck and starts to go down: “babe…you might be a genius...but I really need to show you how this serum works for me…hours? Please don’t underestimate me…” 
His hands starting to caress your body, cupping your breasts and leaving a trace of kisses, feeling you reacting at the same time that he was getting hard again, still inside of you. 
You let out a soft, deep moan, your body responding instantly to his touch, your eyes lost in lust again.
“Steve…” 
He loves that begging moan, he was so ready to hear it again. And he was going to make you to do that all night long. 
“The night is young.” He positions his hands in your waist, holding you tight, as he presses himself again inside of you, harder than the first time, his eyes locked on yours as he speaks: “And I’m glad for it.”
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“Dr. Lin? um…Robert?” You knocked your colleague’s lab door on Monday, with a gift basket and a bottle of wine.
“Heeeeyyyy…” He was so happy to see you, Dr. Lin just turned around from his chair with a curious smirk: “Soooo? How was it? The mysterious date? I can tell you are satisfied…” he was practically singing. 
“Well…” You blushed slightly. 
The “date” has lasted the entire weekend. 
For the first time in your life, you were thankful for the body Hydra had given you, enough to endure and enjoy a weekend of endless lovemaking. 
You think you lost count of your orgasms by Saturday afternoon. But then of course, Sunday was also off, even for the Avengers. So you carried on. 
“Ahem…!” You cleared your throat, offering him the basket with the wine. “I’m just saying the Felix Felicis worked... as expected, even with just a drop.”
“Oh.” Robert's expression shifted. “Oh my gawd, I’m going to hell for this... Honey?” 
He patted your hand as he took off his glasses. “There’s no such thing as Felix Felicis…”
“What?”
“Yeah I lied…It was just a joke.” He made a ‘Sorry, not sorry’ face: “It was just perfumed alcohol.”
“Oh.” You were surprised. “Um... still... that’s just...” 
Wonderful. You couldn’t help but smile, handing him the basket anyway. 
“Thank you so much, Dr. Lin— I mean, Robert. Really, thank you.”
“Ohhh…you’re blushing,” Dr. Lin winks at you. “You look like someone who just discovered the meaning of life.” By going out of that lab and finally having human contact, and not dying there like a potus, he thinks to himself.
You grinned. “Maybe I did.”
“Well, whatever it was, keep that glow. It’s contagious,” he said with a wink before turning around and continuing his work.
“I’ll try my best.” You nodded, smiled at him, and headed back to your lab. You were in the hallway when you received a message from Steve.
“Miss you already,” with a heart emoji.
You sighed and smiled. 
Maybe it wasn’t Felix Felicis, but magic did exist—and it was real every time Steve looked at you like you were the only thing in the universe that mattered.
End but TBD
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Yay! That's a wrap on Chapter 3! ❤️ Thank you for reading so far. I apologize if my English isn't perfect; it's not my first (or even second) language.
I hope I got through the intensity and love that was intended. (At least at their first time, should be more about making love than fucking? If that makes sense...?)
Anyway, don't know where to place the timeline, but definitely is after Endgame and everyone is happy and alive, aaaand the fact that John is here with Steve in the same place, makes it more interesting :3 (I just love writing jelous Steve)
Hope you liked it! Every feedback is highly appreciated <3
Love.,
Moon.
P.S: Chapter names are all related to dream states ;) I'm posting something every friday :) So see you next friday!!!
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sonotpattismith · 1 day
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YOURE WRITING IS LIT AMAZING OMG- I had an idea: Sukuna switching in and telling u yuji likes you (romanticly and sexually) and eventually switching back and the aftermath…. 🙏🙏🙏
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Forgive Me for Whatever I Do (Yuji Itadori x Reader)
word count: 4.9k warnings: a teeny bit dark, angst, suggestive content, 18+ a/n: y'all, I think I kind of altered what the original vibe was meant to be for this request, but I am apparently physically incapable of not making a fic angsty, I'm SORRY. Also, this was a bit inspired by Remember You by Dominurmom, link if you wanna listen cause it makes me cry. I hope you all enjoy and please remember my requests are always open! 🥹🫶🏻
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Friends. It was a good word-- a safe word. It was one you had found solace in hiding behind for years. How could you dare risk the beautiful ebb and flow you had found within the days of while you’d experienced with your best friend? No matter the pools of warmth that engulfed your chest with each glittery-eyed smile-- no matter how the both of you had always found your way back to each other whether rain or sunshine-- no matter how much you loved Yuji Itadori. Friends; it was a safe space. 
There was a time when you wanted something more. It was so early on, before you were too scared to lose him yet. When you two had first met, you felt undeniably pulled toward the bright-eyed and charismatic boy. Both of your lives had been overwhelmingly and newly hectic, what with your being thrust into a life of curses and sacrifice. Similarly, Yuji was still coping with the abrupt weight of managing the demon he now shared a body with. It was never the right time. 
So, your timid glances and blushing compliments soon turned into confiding conversations and fierce loyalty. You two fell into the gentle and safe rhythm of a blossoming friendship. Of course, deep down within the confines of your cowardly hearts, you were always drawn to one another. There was always a hope, never communicated, that maybe once your lives found a peaceful medium, you two would no longer need to hide behind the solace of friends.
This certainly wasn’t how you wanted it to happen. 
Yuji had always made it appoint to keep you and Sukuna at opposite ends of his world, in all senses of the phrase. He barely spoke of him to you at all, in fact. It was actually something you argued often with him about, worried about the impacts of keeping that kind of burden locked away would have on him. In typical Itadori fashion though, he wouldn’t even entertain the notion of an argument with you. No, he’d just squint his honey-brown eyes, and flash that bashful smile to you, a half-assed excuse about why it wasn’t that big of a deal falling easily from his lips. 
The truth was though, it was a big deal to him-- a massive one, in fact. After having already witnessed what that counterpart of his could do, the havok it could ensue on those important to him-- nothing scared him more than the prospect of you coming face to face with Sukuna. Yuji felt this fear so much so that he spared you the details. He didn’t want you to think of him in such a way, to know that any part of him was capable of such atrocities. Yes, he’d bear it all if it meant none of it touched you. 
So, when he felt his own body deteriorating rapidly in tandem with the whaling blows of cursed energy courtesy of the special grade the two of you had been cornered by, the thought flickered in the back of his head. Heaving out a pained groan, Yuji’s gaze found yours, and he pushed it back down. But you screamed. You screamed, and he couldn’t help you-- he couldn’t move. You screamed, and he was trapped beneath the concrete pillar that had fallen so unceremoniously over his heaving chest. You screamed, and suddenly, it was his only option. 
“Sukuna!”
The King of Curses was not one for favors, especially not for the brat that held him hostage in what was meant to be his vessel. He assessed the situation before him-- the one he’d been watching intently from the safety of his own shrine. Through his insolent vessel’s eyes, he could only see you. It was all the brat would look at, you were all he ever looked at. Whether it be the back of your head, hair swaying gently as you’d turn to smile at him, and Sukuna would always feel the boy’s heart clench fouly at the sight. On some occasions, you’d be looking right at him, your eyes with stars behind them, and the demon wanted nothing more than to rip them right from their sockets simply for the way his vessel would tremble under your gaze.
Pathetic. 
Maybe if the brat had been looking toward something else for once, they wouldn’t have been in this predicament. But he was racing toward you at every chance he got, taking blows that were meant for you, countering attacks that you had antagonized. He couldn’t understand how someone could be so weak.
So, he laughed. In the back of Itadori’s frenzied mind, Sukuna cackled at him. The boy whispered a plea, tears stinging his eyes as he watched you stumble to your feet in a grave attempt to escape the repeated blows being landed on you. 
“Anything, I’ll do anything, please!”
The demon liked the sound of that. Yuji could feel the control slipping away from him, his consciousness being sucked up by the all consuming darkness lurking within. For just a moment, he fought against it, staring up at you in an almost drunken haze. 
“I’m sorry. Please,” He called out to you, voice hoarse and morphing into one you didn’t recognize. “Just look away.”
In mere seconds, the boy you loved was shifting before your eyes. His features were sharpening; sinister, black marks pooling onto his skin like ink. The second set of eyes below his own snapped open, and they were looking right at you. Maybe, Sukuna thought, if he saw it for himself he’d understand, without the barrier of this boy’s soul in the way. Still, as he stared into your fearful eyes, he felt nothing but indifference-- no-- disgust. 
Jagged chunks of concrete rubble sliced through the air around you, knocking into your already weak body, some even slicing through the special grade in front of you. Blinking back the dust that invaded your sight, when your eyes opened again, the curse was desecrated; an explosion of grotesque, purple evidence of what it once was. 
Sukuna didn’t care to save you. What enticed him more for the approximate two minutes he had left in control of this body, was breaking down the brat a little. In all fairness, when you stood there so helplessly, so vulnerable with eyes full of fear before him, how could he resist? His impossibly sharp teeth flashed under the moon’s light as he stepped toward you, torn shirt hanging loosely off his shoulder and chest. 
You wanted to apologize to Yuji, to tell him that you tried to look away like he’d asked. It wasn’t a fair request though. No, not when your best friend, the boy you loved, was being held hostage. You feared if you looked away he might do something awful to him-- unaware of what lurked in the dark chasm of his thusfar imprisoned mind. 
“I’ve gotta say,” Sukuna’s gravelly voice reached your ears. It didn’t hold that playfully boyish cadence you had come to love. In its place was one that mocked you, laughing boisterously in the face of your trembling fear and anticipation of what he’d do next. “In the flesh, you’re pretty underwhelming.”
You gulped down the bile that threatened to rise from your stomach. Still crumpled on the ground from the last hit you’d taken, you weren’t sure if you should attempt to stand; unsure if he’d find that acceptable. Sukuna tilted his head at your silence, taking two slow and calculated steps forward. 
“Disgusting.” He spat suddenly, gripping you by your elbow to haul you up. You yelped in surprise, trying not to shed the tears that welled in your eyes at the sting of his nails against your skin. “This brat spends day in and day out allowing himself to be consumed. And for this?”
Your brows furrowed at his words, and you pulled against his grip. 
“Give him back.” You gritted through your teeth, fear igniting your body in tremors. 
Sukuna’s red eyes, all four of them, lit up sinsiterly, grin widening in a manner that appeared painful. You realized for that split second that he likely didn’t have much time at all to wreak havoc, and he was enjoying this. He wanted to hurt you-- to hurt Yuji, even with the limited scope of his abilities at the moment. 
“How romantic.” He cooed mockingly. His hand came up to grasp your jaw, forcing you to look into the eyes of your best friend, but he wasn’t there. Your stray tear betrayed you, slipping down your mangled cheek. Leaning forward with gusto, he licked a debauched stripe up the path your traitorous tear had taken, cackling madly as the salt tainted his tongue. Pushing you back a bit, his voice was suddenly booming, cracking at your abused eardrums with fervor. “All day!”
You tried to keep your face neutral, to be unwilling to give up the shred of dignity you had left-- for Yuji. 
“All day this brat pines and trembles and burns with the thought of you-- pathetic!”
For a moment, you felt your heart stop at his words. Surely he wasn’t implying that Yuji, even in the slightest sense, saw past more than just your friendship. You knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t him, but your lips were moving to a different rhythm than your mind was, and you were whispering to him in hushed bewilderment, 
“What?”
“And you’re so stupidly oblivious, too? How revolting.” Despite his disgusted words, the baleful smile on his face grew that much wilder. It struck you then, how much you had disconnected yourself from the fact that the body before you, holding your body weight up with a deafening grip on your jaw, was Yuji. You didn’t see him. When you looked at that pink hair and felt the familiar curves of his hands, he wasn’t your best friend. “I suppose you’re not the only ignorant one. I can practically feel the way your weak little heart pounds everytime that brat looks at you.”
Your cheeks were burning at this point, and if he couldn’t see it in the dim moonlight, he could surely feel the heat under his mean fingers. Blinking away your tears, you willed your lip to stop trembling. 
“He doesn’t know it, you know.” Sukuna chuckled, spurred on by your painful silence. “I spend all day having to listen to him whine about his unreciprocated, little love-sick infatuation.”
It was making your stomach churn, the way he was turning your feelings for one another, ones that you were only now becoming privy to, into something so revolting. The words falling from his lips were ones you prayed so long to hear. You had spent so many sleepless nights staring back at your best friend where he laid sprawled out on the other side of your bed, both of you too traumatized from the day’s monstrosities to sleep alone-- to leave each other. This isn’t how you wanted to find out though. 
Amongst the desecration of your normal lives, you wanted to grasp onto the hope of innocence, of pure and untouched love and fondness. You hoped for bashful confessions and spontaneous kisses, ones that were purely Yuji’s intent. Sukuna was snatching the opportunity right from beneath you two, and he knew it. 
You shook your head, or tried to with the grip that was forcing your gaze on him. 
“My days are filled with his insolent whining, and I don’t find solace at night either.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think by the eager way he was spilling these thoughts out to you that he was happy to spend his fortitude in such a manner. You did know better though, and you knew what he enjoyed was the chance of domestic normalcy he was ripping away from the boy that held him hostage. “No, he touches himself at night.”
“Stop it.” You spat, unable to hold back the dam of your tears any longer. They spilled freely down your cheeks, and you swore you could see his red eyes roll into the back of his head. Your weak hands came up in a desperate attempt to shield your ears from the intimate secrets Yuji likely never intended for you to hear-- not like this anyway. The hand that held your jaw quickly fell, and he laced his fingers through yours mockingly, forcing you to listen. 
“That brat thinks of you all night when he’s beating himself off like the degenerate he is. Sometimes he calls out your name too, when he--”
You couldn’t take it anymore, feeling as though you might throw up. Above all else, your heart ached for Yuji, and you wondered if he could hear what was going on, if he was clawing his way out. You wanted to apologize to him, tell him you never meant to find out this way. You wished you could forget.
“Yuji!” 
Your cry made the demon smile, but it quickly faded with a knowing furrow of his brows. Eyes drooping lazily as he looked toward you, he shook his head. The marks on his face were slowly absorbing back into his skin. His upper lip curled in disgust. 
“Pathetic.”
In an instant, he was falling to the floor limply, bringing you down with him. When you looked up in a frenzied haze at the head that fell onto your chest, you noted with relief that it was Yuji again. His eyes fluttered open deliriously, taking in his surroundings. Looking up, he was met by your grief-stricken expression, fresh tears clinging to your face. His freshly healed arms were pulling himself up clumsily, hovering over you in a way that made it obvious that fear was gripping at every nerve in his body. 
“What— what did he do? Are you okay?” 
It was Sukuna’s very intention, the manner in which you had no choice but to see Yuji so differently now. As he hovered over you, unintentionally entrapping you under his tensing arms and bare chest, you couldn’t help but blush as the curse’s words rang in your mind. The thought of the boy you’d dreamt about for so long thinking of you in such a way, touching himself to the thought of you, longing for you-- and he was right there within your reach. 
“You… you don’t remember?” You whispered, trying to calm your racing heart. 
Yuji quickly shook his head, his comforting brown eyes tracing down your body as if to assess the damages. When his hands molded around your waist to pull your shirt up, the one that was slowly flooding through with blood from the gash on your side, you gasped and flinched away. He gulped back his nausea at the racing thoughts of what Sukuna could have done to you to warrant such a response. His hands reeled back to his sides, and he sat back on his knees. 
“I got pretty messed up back there… I think I was still healing.” he explained slowly, wanting so badly to help you, but unsure of how you viewed him now-- how scared you were of him. What he didn’t know was that you weren’t scared of him, not at all. In fact, you wanted to pull him in, hold him close, tell him that you’ve loved him all this time as well. It should have been an idyllic occasion. In the back of your mind though, you knew if Yuji hadn’t confessed to you himself already then there was likely a reason, and you shouldn’t force the decision onto him just because the curse residing in him ripped away the layers of protection that shrouded those feelings. “Please, I’m sorry. What did he do to you?”
He didn’t remember, and maybe it was better that way. At least one of you could be spared the humiliation. It took some time, but you had convinced Yuji that you were simply shaken up from the fight, though you felt he still wasn’t entirely convinced. His movements were painfully careful as he carried you to safety. It was so clear in the way he touched you with such delicacy, that he feared scaring you more than he thought he already had. 
You stared up at the ceiling that night, tears clouding your vision as you toyed with the edge of the gauze that wrapped your abdomen. In all the time you two had known each other, you couldn’t wrap your head around why he was so scared of opening up to you about the monster he shared a body with. Countless nights you’d spent after missions, as he stared unblinkingly at a wall, begging him to confide in you. In just under five minutes with the thing though, you understood the cruelty he was trying to protect you from. 
There was a soft knock on your door, and you lifted your head up as it slid open. Yuji stood tentatively at the entrance, looking like the absolute picture of health compared to your mangled self. He was scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, a little quirk you’d grown to love, much like everything else about him. Flashing you his attempt at a bashful smile, he tilted his head at you. 
“Thought you could use some company.” He offered. It was somewhat of a routine of yours to meet together after a particularly grueling mission. The two of you would lay in bed, facing each other with moronic smiles on your lips as you talked about everything-- everything but the horrors you’d witnessed. It was the only way you could find yourself calm enough to fall asleep. If you two talked each other’s ears off about the comparable strength of two manga characters, or argued halfheartedly over what was the superior horror movie in your already trash-fire line up, if you distracted one another line by line-- the two of you would forget about what you saw. Just long enough to allow your eyes to forcefully drift in exhaustion. 
Now though, as he stared undecisively at you, you could tell he wasn’t sure if he would still be allowed such privileges. Despite being lost in the labyrinth of your own mind over the night’s events-- over him-- you smiled softly for his sake and patted the spot beside you. Your breath hitched as he eagerly closed the door behind him and climbed into bed beside you. His sigh of relief fanned over the side of your face despite his attempt at concealing it. You felt his eyes on you, his body already on its side and facing you, awaiting for you to do the same. 
“Oh, your side.” Yuji sighed in ackowledgement, and you simply nodded in agreement, not wanting to reveal that you simply couldn’t look him in the eyes without bursting on the spot. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as he reached out to softly graze his hand over the wounded area. The boy saw the way your breath hitched and your expression shifted, slowly retracting his hand. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever happened back there. Please, look at me.”
A little piece of your heart broke off at the pained desperation in his tone. Blinking back the tears that threatened to form, you turned your head to the side to look in his wide, distraught eyes. Softening your gaze, you struggled against your pain as you forced yourself on your side to face him. 
“No, Yuji, it’s okay--”
“No it’s not!” In an instant, he was sitting up, looking down at you as his chest heaved with purposeful breaths. “He’s taken everything from me, and I…”
His shoulders slumped, and a rosy tint rushed to his cheeks. 
“I won’t let him take you too-- I can’t. So, please, just tell me what I have to do to make you not scared of me anymore, and I’ll do it, okay? I’ll do anything.”
Unable to take it anymore, you moved to sit up with a grunt. Yuji’s hands quickly shot out to help you until you were facing him. He looked back at you with such conviction, such longing in his gaze, and, with hindsight bias, you wondered how you never saw it sooner. 
“You’re my best friend, Yuji… I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Then why can’t you look me in the eyes?”
You pursed your lips, tentatively taking his hands into yours to hold them between you two. His breath hitched ever so slightly at the connection. Scraping your thumb over his knuckle absentmindedly in a manner that was scrambling his brain like eggs, you thought carefully on your next words. 
“You don’t think anything could ruin our friendship… right?” You asked timidly, eyes meeting his through your lashes. His brows furrowed at your question, and he found himself leaning forward to gaze into you sincerely, shaking his head quickly. 
“Nothing. Don’t you think we’ve been through too much together already? You’re kinda stuck with me.”
The hesitantly joking tone in his voice made you smile softly. Yuji had a way of easing your anxiety that way, as if there was a little door in your mind that only he had the key to open up and gaze into whenever he pleased. It gave you more confidence to continue your pursuit.. 
“And there aren’t any secrets between us? Nothing you’ve… not told me?”
Gulping thickly, he felt his face pale. There was something he was keeping from you, something he had come to terms with being content with if it meant he’d never put your relationship in jeopardy. An attempted smile broke into his face, but the corners of his lips were twitching anxiously. You could have melted at the sight. 
 “Uh… no. You know I tell you everything.” The lie stumbled from his lips unconvincingly. Your lips set into a firm line as you shot him a knowing yet playful look. Suddenly, his eyes were darting everywhere but you. They were at your hands, on your nose, on the ceiling, anywhere that would allow him to gather his thoughts. “Is this about the dent in your bathroom wall? Cause I promise I have a good explaination, a-and I was going to tell you, but you were already upset about the--”
“I love you.” It fell from your lips, permanent, unable to be drawn back in. In truth, the both of you could have died that night. Yuji was practically pinned under a building, and you had been face to face with the king of curses. The sentiment of either of you dying without having heard the depths of your feelings for one another was not lost on you. The lifestyles you led were perilous, self-sacrificing, and morbid. You already lived in fear that your next mission would be your last, and, as you were blanketed by the comfort brought upon by the proximity of the boy you loved so dearly, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel this type of fear too. Not for Yuji. 
“Take it back.”
Okay, maybe his blunt order hurt more than the boulder that flew into your side earlier, but you still stood by what you said. A small, breathless gasp fell from your lips as you stared at his solemn expression. 
“Oh,” you muttered out meekly, and, despite your burning embarrassment, you couldn’t tear your eyes from his. “I’m sorry, I just—”
“I wanted to say it to you first.” He reiterated, his lips pulled to the side in frustration, eyebrows furrowed as he regarded you. “I spent years thinking of what I wanted to say to you. Take it back.” 
Relief flooded your system like a drug, flowing through your veins and relaxing your constricting muscles. In its place came a bashful flush at his words. Smiling softly in disbelief, you shook your head a bit.
“Okay,” you drew out slowly, watching him square his muscles back as if preparing for his line. “I take it back.” 
Despite his previous determination and insistence that he had something profound to say, all he could do was lean forward to press his lips against yours clumsily. He couldn’t help himself, not with the way your twinkling eyes stared up at him expectantly, glimmering with an excitement he felt he was alone with for years. A muffled huff of surprise from you was swallowed right up by his eager lips as he lunged forward to deepen the connection he’d just forged. 
“‘M sorry,” Yuji mumbled against your mouth, reaching up to grip at the side of your face as if you’d ever run from him. “Know I talked all that shit, but I forgot what I was gonna say. I love you. I just love you. I’ve always loved you.”
He didn’t allow you any room for a response because his desperate push against your lips had you leaning back to accommodate the sudden weight, and you fell back against your pillow. The boy eagerly chased you, crawling over your panting form to pour out all the soliloquies he longed to spill out to you with some semblance of eloquence, he wanted it all conveyed to you through his frenzied devouring of you. 
Your mind was reeling with his sudden urgency, and you quickly came to the realization that the both of you had been living with this fear of passing one another up. Your hand snaked up to run along his chest, daring to explore up his neck and into the tufts of his pink hair. A soft moan of your name had you blushing profusely, suddenly remembering what Sukuna had told you about the extent of Yuji’s desires for you. You wondered if this was what he sounded like when he called out to you at night with his hands wrapped around himself. Squinting your eyes, you willed your imagination to take a quick u-turn, remembering that that wasn’t information Yuji had given up willingly. 
“Say it back.” Yuji suddenly demanded, finally tearing away from his assault on your lips to stare down at you determinedly. “Say it again.” 
Your free hand came up to cup his cheek. There was so much fear and guilt and sadness pent up in your chest at the prospect of what Sukuna had taken from him that night. It had never been like you to lie to him or keep things from him. As your thumb ran across his bottom lip lovingly, and he looked so accomplished, so content with how this night had somehow progressed in his favor, you realized that the curse hadn’t taken anything from him. Not when you were there to make sure that kind of hatred never touched him. 
“I love you too, Yuji.” 
His wide, boyish grin lit up the dim room. Swinging back down with fervor, the two of you laughed against each other as your teeth clashed messily. Humming contentedly, his wandering hands traveled down your side and snuck up your shirt. God, he’d dreamed of this for so long, and you were right there- underneath of him and pliable to his every touch. He knew he was getting ahead of himself, he could feel it in the way his boxers tightened uncomfortably against him, but he feared he may wake up at any second back in his dorm room alone, like he had so many times following his messianic dreams about what it may be like to have you. 
As his fingers creeped up, you flinched against his fervent grasp that lit your wounded side ablaze. Yuji was suddenly reminded of the night’s events, and he cursed quietly before reluctantly pulling away from you. Looking down at your flushed cheeks and swollen lips, an unbrittled exhilaration swirled in his chest. There would be so many more nights with you, he would make sure of it. He leaned forward to press a last, longing and solemn kiss against your forehead-- a promise that you two would come back to this. 
Carefully, he pulled his grasp away from your wounded side and settled down beside you. Unlike those countless nights the two of you shared a bed, Yuji laid snuggly against you, locking your knees under his strong legs. With his head propped up on his elbow, he beamed down at you, lovestruck as he affectionately tugged your shirt back down. As his fingers lingered against the protruding gauze, his expression creased a bit.
“You… you never told me what Sukuna did.”
Although he hated that he felt the need to ruin the moment with such dark thoughts, no amount of lust could have driven that fear from the back of his mind. Your smile faltered marginally at his words. Thinking of how excited he was to confess to you, and how ardently he fell into this new role so comfortably with you, exploring you with an innocence that was a stark contrast to the dark world you two traversed, you shook your head. Leaning up to press an assuring kiss to his cheek, you looked right at the slits under his eyes, as if daring the curse to acknowledge you. 
“He didn’t do a damn thing.”
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masterlist.
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iamgonnagetyouback · 16 hours
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Poly marauders where it’s like there teen daughter gets into a fight and like smokes and stuff and like conversations and text trying to figure out what’s going on and telling each other what’s happening and like her yelling at them and finding out she’s been hanging around the wrong kind of people and she’s been stealing and just like good angst but then she says sorry walks away and slowly stops but like still ofc and teen girl 💕💕
𝟷.𝟹𝚔 || 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓
♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Your teen daughter was hanging out with wrong kind of people, causing all of you to confront her.
♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None
♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x mom!Reader
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"She's stealing, James. STEALING." Sirius’s voice came through the phone, low and angry. You could hear it even though James had stepped into the kitchen to take the call. Your heart clenched, dread coiling tightly in your chest.
You glanced at Remus, who was sitting on the couch, his brow furrowed as he typed furiously into his phone, likely messaging Peter. It had been a few tense days now. First, your daughter had gotten into a fight at school. Then came the smoking. And now…you were learning about the stealing.
James walked back into the living room, running a hand through his hair. His usually calm demeanor was shattered, his hazel eyes full of worry. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Sirius’s voice on speakerphone, growling, “This is bloody ridiculous. Who’s she been hanging out with? How did we not know?”
You winced. “She’s not a bad kid,” you whispered, more to yourself than anyone else. “We must’ve missed something, right? Maybe if I had—”
“Don’t,” Remus cut in gently, finally looking up from his phone. His eyes softened as he reached for your hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong, love.”
But the guilt gnawed at you anyway. You were her mother. You were supposed to protect her, guide her, and yet here you all were, blindsided by her sudden spiral.
The front door slammed, jolting you out of your thoughts. There she was, your daughter, stomping into the room with an air of defiance.
“Sweetheart, we need to talk,” James started, his voice steady but filled with concern.
“No, we don’t,” she snapped. “I’m not a child. You don’t get to control my life!”
Sirius, who had hung up and now stormed in after her, looked livid. “You’re stealing now?” His voice was tight with fury, and you saw James reach out, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him from escalating. “We didn’t raise you to act like this. What the hell is going on?”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe if you actually paid attention to what I want, instead of what you want me to be, I wouldn’t have to sneak around!”
Remus took a deep breath, stepping in. “Who have you been hanging out with, darling?”
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw the scared girl beneath the rebellious facade. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbled. “I’ve got my own life, alright? You guys don’t get it.”
Peter, who had just arrived, slipped in quietly, standing by the door. He had always been the quiet one in confrontations like these, but his eyes were filled with worry. “We do get it,” he said softly. “We’ve been your age. But hanging out with people who are getting you into fights, into trouble…it’s not the way.”
Her lip trembled, and for a second, it seemed like she was going to break. But then she just shook her head and stormed toward her room, slamming the door behind her.
The silence that followed was suffocating. You sat down hard on the couch, burying your face in your hands. “I failed her,” you choked out, your voice thick with tears. “I should’ve known. I should’ve seen it.”
Sirius’s anger faltered, and he knelt down in front of you. “Hey, no. None of this is your fault.”
James crouched beside you, wrapping his arms around you tightly. “You’re a great mom,” he whispered into your hair. “She’s just…lost right now.”
You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. “But what if we lose her, James? What if we're not enough?”
Remus was there in an instant, sitting beside you, pulling you close. “We won’t lose her,” he murmured. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? We’ve always got each other.”
Peter nodded from the side. “She’s tough, just like you. She’ll come around.”
Sirius, who had always been the most protective, clenched his fists, still simmering with frustration but trying his best to soften for your sake. “I just don’t want her getting hurt,” he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. “I don’t want her to turn into someone we don’t recognize.”
James kissed his temple, his voice gentle but firm. “She won’t. We’ll make sure of it.”
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Over the next few days, things were tense, but slowly, you began to see changes. She came home earlier, didn’t pick as many fights. It wasn’t a complete transformation—far from it—but there were glimmers of hope. She even sat down with you once, just to watch TV. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
One evening, she came up to you while the boys were scattered around the house. “Mom?” she asked, her voice quiet.
You looked up, your heart in your throat. “Yes, sweetie?”
“I’m sorry.” Her eyes were filled with genuine remorse. “I…I messed up. I’m still mad, but I know I messed up.”
You pulled her into your arms, tears welling in your eyes again, but this time from relief. “I love you,” you whispered, kissing the top of her head. “No matter what, I love you.”
She nodded, hugging you tightly before stepping back. “I’m gonna try…to do better.”
It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.
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hope this is what you were going for! also i wasn't sure if you wanted reader insert, so i twisted it up a bit
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Toby with a member of the mansion who just doesn’t like him? (Platonic btw) They don’t shit talk him or anything and work fine.. they just don’t like him in a more casual setting. -🧶 (I’m curious to see how this would go. Thank you :) )
Interesting, I think this is the first request I've gotten like this :p
Toby is, unfortunately, used to people not liking him. Part of it is due to his intentionally excitably annoying facade he keeps up all the time, and the other part of it is just due to his behaviors exhibited by his trauma, which of course isn't his fault. You don't seem to judge him for his trauma, and instead just seem to not particularly enjoy his company. The only downside to people not liking him is Toby tends to wonder what he's doing wrong to make you feel that way, as he does try very hard not to make people dislike him, and he often changes his behavior depending on who he's around. So, obviously, it bothers and upsets him that you have such disdain for him.
He knows not every person in the world is going to like him, but he can't help but wonder just what it is about him that you dislike so much. Whenever the two of you are working on missions together he's respectful and doesn't try to get too close to you, but you can always feel his eyes watching you, as though he wants to say something to you but he never does. Even when the two of you are just lounging about the mansion sometimes the feeling of someone watching you never seems to leave you, which in turn just makes you more agitated that he can't seem to leave you alone. If you tell him to knock it off he will, but it tends to make him a bit mopey, which honestly makes you prefer him just watching you from a distance. You're never rude to him, and you never talk about him behind his back, so really he has no reason to be so upset about you not liking him, but the reality is that it makes him incredibly anxious living in the same place as someone that doesn't like him, and it has him set on edge the whole time, scared one day your calm distaste might turn into something worse.
I think eventually Toby would end up wanting to have an actual sit down conversation with you to discuss that fact, just so if anything he could relax a bit more in the mansion around you. He expresses what I've written above, that he knows you don't have to like him, but that his residual trauma has him scared one day your indifference might turn into anger or violence, and he feels as though he has to walk around on eggshells around you. His honesty and openness catch you off guard, and of course, you put an end to his worries, rightfully stating that you would never want to hurt him or cause him any emotional harm. You may not like him, but you're not an asshole and you're not going to cause him any harm. Toby visibly relaxes while you explain that to him, and he apologizes for ever having such worries in the first place, and you apologize for having made him feel that way. The two of you will go back to your normal, of you not wanting to be close to him, and Toby watching you from a distance and never impeding, but I think it would be a bit lighter. Toby still views you in some sort of way as his family, as he does everyone in the mansion, and he'll protect you if he thinks he needs to, just as you would him, but he no longer really feels the pressure to try and grow closer to you. He'll accept that sometimes you can't be friends with everyone, even though he'd like to be friends with you, and maybe that chance will come in the future, but for now, he's content to just exist in your space without worry.
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sageispunk · 23 hours
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are you ever gonna post the method man fics 😩
what's it gonna be? (18+)
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pairing: Silas P. Silas x black!reader
↳ When two friends finally get a night alone...
wordcount: 2.5k+
warnings: this is all smut fr, fwb to lovers, daddy kink!!!, P in V sex, reader is referred to as "girl" "ma" "mama" "boo", squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, dom! reader for a sec, light choking, hint at/mention of weed use, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), teasing, nipple play...lmk if i missed any!!
A/N: ask and you shall receive!! (sorry for the wait though, i've had this sitting unfinished for a min cause i didn't know if anyone actually wanted it LMAO) i hope u like it anon and anyone else, lmk how u feel in the comments!! pls like + reblog as well MWAH 🫶🏾
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“Damn girl…” 
Silas groaned below you, with his big hands gripping your hips as you moved up and down his length. The two of you locked desperate eyes, communicating nothing but everything at the same time.
You needed this as much as he did, especially once that familiar green haze behind your eyes set in. You were on your feet, using the strength in your legs and knees to increase your pace on him. With each bounce you could feel him deep inside your belly, touching parts of you that you didn’t even know existed. 
You also couldn't figure out how his tall self managed to squeeze into your twin XL dorm bed, but you weren’t in any position to question it either. The room was dark, only illuminated by the dim screen of your television on the dresser, in addition to the red LED lights on the wall above you. Whichever tv show began when your movie went off went unnoticed, their conversations drowned out by the breathy pants escaping your lips. 
The lewd sounds filling up the room had you both in heaven. Beautiful brown bodies under that rouge coloring– moaning, grunting, smacking, and squishing. Like one of those early 2000s classic Ebony films–just nasty. You could only hope no one could hear from outside your door. 
You moved your hips up and down, taking him all the way down to the base each time, biting your lip with a debauched look on your face. You watched as Silas moaned, loud and needy and uncaring, his eyes rolling back into his head. Your confidence shot up through the roof, leading you to take a little more control. You held his jaw with your dominant hand, bringing your lips up to his earlobe and letting your mouth run off whatever popped into your head, not leaving a second to second guess yourself. 
“Does it feel good when I do it like that?”
With your soft, teasing voice in his ears, you squeezed your inner walls, slowing yourself a bit and ignoring that growing burn in your thighs. “You betta stop it, girl..” His voice came out grunted, rough. His fingers dug into your hips as he struggled to hold onto his nut, a deep moan vibrating through his chest. 
“What about when I do it like that? Hmm?”
You felt him nodding against your skin before his hips stuttered, kissing your spot perfectly for only  a split second. Your body jerked up, momentarily frozen around him as your vision went white. “Silas, FUCK, I’m–!!!”
“Yeahhh, let it out baby..” He murmured, a goofy, cocky grin spreading across his face. Even then, you could still tell that he was struggling to hold on, with your pussy pulsing,  nearly suffocating him like a goddamn boa constrictor. 
Silas kept his eyes on you, his focus wandering up and down, and back and forth, his mind too overwhelmed with pleasure to fixate on only one part of you. He loved your thighs–every time you’d wear this particular pair of biker shorts that defined each of your curves, he would have to mentally go elsewhere just to keep from bursting out his jeans.
Your breasts also held a special place in his heart, especially in those times where he’d seek you out for comfort, resting against the soft, cushiony headrest that your chest provided. Similarly, the softness of your tummy was something he could never turn down, he’d be touching on it every time you showed a little extra skin in a crop top or a backless dress.
As you slowed down to a stop on top of him, he let his hands wander. His left hand traveled up your side, slowly, taking in your beautiful map of scars and stretch marks on the way. Once his thick fingers reached your breasts, they traced around your mocha areolas before latching onto your hardened nipples. Silas rubbed and pinched lightly, alternating between teasing each as he watched the euphoric haze grow across your face. 
“Silas…” You still were sensitive from your sudden orgasm, slightly trembling from the aftershocks as he touched you. Nevertheless, that warmth and excitement began to flood your core once again, that hunger taking over your every thought. His hard dick throbbing eight inches deep inside your core didn't help either. But you needed more, you craved to see him, feel him come undone inside of you. 
You gasped as his right hand made its way to your throat, keeping your gaze steadily on his. The grip of his fingers on your skin had you feeling weak, and under his spell. And his voice, all deep and rough and dripping with desire.
“I gotchu mama, just tell me what you need..” Your eyes scanned over his face, taking in the glaze of sweat on his forehead, above his furrowed eyebrows, as well as the slight pout in his plump bottom lip. You wanted to bite it so bad. “Tell daddy what you need, baby, I gotta hear you.”
Silas repeating the nickname you accidentally gave him the first time you’d hooked up made your tummy flutter. You couldn’t believe it yourself when the word flew out your mouth, while you blurredly watched him take you from behind, standing upright in front of the mirror in some frat party bathroom. From then he never let you forget it. He always made sure to remind you of his special status, without fail making you cum harder than anyone else ever had, every single time. 
“Cum in me, Si...please.” 
The plea fell from your lips as you lazily swirled your hips in his lap, enjoying the way his curved length rubbed deliciously against all your inner spots. Like you were made to fit one another. Your hands held onto his right arm as he continued to choke you, only slightly tightening his grip around your throat. The growing lack of air made you tense around his dick, whining and moaning out as he spoke. “You know if I cum in this pussy, that means it's mine, right?” 
Hearing those words with that thick New York accent while he was so deep in your belly nearly made you cum again. Leaning in, you nodded your response with your gaze fixed directly on his brown eyes.
A look of understanding flashed across Silas’ face for a second, before he released your throat, hand settling on the nape of your neck to bring you in closer. Your plush lips met his own as he swallowed down your moans, exploring your mouth with his hungry tongue.
You opened up, letting him take control of the nastiest kissing you’ve ever participated in–tongues dancing, spit swapping, lip sucking until both of your mouths were glistening. Sinful. 
Silas’ free hand squeezed your hip, grounding you on top of him as he began to slowly grind up into you. Your mouths separated but your faces remained close as he held the back of your neck. Silas watched your face contort while he deepened his stroke inside you, letting you feel every single inch in your stomach.
The only thing you could focus on was his mouth, and how much you wanted that bottom lip back in your mouth. Fuzziness took over your brain, your eyes tearing up from the agonizingly slow but deep pace he was set on. 
The moment was intimate, much more than it had been previously, closer and slower than all those other times Silas had you broken you down. For the past few weeks, you resorted to quickies on the bathroom counter if you were at a party, in either of your cars parked somewhere dark, you’d even let him finger you under the table in the library while you were supposed to be “studying”. And now, with your roommate gone for the weekend, you were finally able to have a nice, passionate moment in a bed. 
In a way, the rushed, adrenaline-filled aspect of all your previous entanglements in those less intimate settings kept you from taking a deeper look at your relationship with Silas. You were friends, albeit much, much closer than “normal” friends should be. You met in a shared biology lecture, after Silas showed up late–and high as hell–and the only seat left open was to your right. You eventually agreed to become study partners, and you didn’t mind when some of those late night study sessions in Silas’ dorm turned into heated smoke sessions, which further turned into nasty intoxicated confessions from you both. 
Silas propped his feet up, lifting his hips before flipping you both over. He placed his hands on the backs of your knees, pushing back and kneeling down to lick a slow, wide stripe up your glossy cunt. You cried out from the new stimulation, squirming in his grasp.
“You taste so mothafuckin’ good, girl..” He moaned against your pussy in appreciation, slurping up your juices and rhythmically sucking on your clit with those pretty ass lips of his. You were entranced, eyes stuck on the scene in front of you, wondering what good you had done in this world to deserve all the bliss flowing through your system.
You watched as he pulled back from your pussy, chin glistening in your essence. He spread your sticky lips apart with two big fingers, hungrily watching you clench and pulse around nothing. The ravenous look in his eyes as he stared at your pussy turned you on like no other. They met yours again, and he licked and bit on his lip, letting you know that he was craving more, just as you were.
Your eyes and mouth fell wide open when Silas let a string of warm spit fall directly onto your clit, both the sensation and the view filling you with an immense amount of pleasure. You could feel the electricity flowing from your pussy to your toes, and back up through your spine, a complete shock to your system.
He let your legs fall to the side, big, warm hands on your face as he leaned in, kissing you once more. The sounds of you both groaning into each other's mouths as you tasted yourself on his lips echoed throughout the room. Your hips grinded up against his, needing to feel his length on and in you again. He pulled away first, one of his hands coming down to pin your knee out to the side, setting you still in place. “You want me to cum in this pussy?” 
You nodded, almost too eagerly. There was nothing else on your mind but the vision of him leaking out of you, vanilla cream dripping down your lips, the perfect match for your coffee complexion.
“Use ya words, boo.” 
You reached up, manicured hands pulling his face to just a couple inches from your own. He watched, expectantly, eyes moving from your eyes to your lips and back up again. You could feel him now, twitching and leaking against your inner thigh, so close to where you needed him most. “Cum in your pussy, Daddy.” 
With a curse under his breath, he sheathed himself inside of you in a quick movement, pausing once he filled you to the base. His eyebrows were furrowed as he stared into your eyes, mouth hung open like he’d never felt the warm, tight hug of your cunt around him before. His breath faltered, warm breath against your lips and vulnerability written across his face.
Your own breath was caught in your chest when he slid back, and then forced out when he pushed inside, gliding through your slick walls with ease. A wail escaped your lips as he punished your pussy, or at least that’s what it felt like he was doing. Reminding you of who he was. And reminding you of who you were. 
Your eyes clamped shut, toes curling and spine arching up off the bed more and more each time he touched your precious g-spot. Another orgasm began to build within your core, your body tightening up underneath him as you fiercely dug your teeth into your bottom lip.
Curses flew from your lips, broken and jumbled together, barely making any sense. You released his face, blindly allowing your hands to find his shoulders for support. Silas leaned down, moaning and groaning in your ear, filling you up with his dick before taking it all away, over and over and over again. 
“Daddyyy…fuck!!!” 
“Tell me it’s mine, baby, c’mon ma, I’m so fuckin’ close…” 
Your bodies were sticky with sweat and all your juices, creating the nastiest smacking sound each time he plunged inside. “It’s yours, I swear to god, it’s all yours baby, ohmyfuckinggoddd…”  You rambled off, barely even able to hear your own words. Your brain was much more focused on the ecstacy spreading through your entire body, making you tingle from your head to your toes. “I’m gonna cum, daddy, please don’t stop!!” 
“Give it to me, baby, c’mon, gimme that shit!” He kept the pace strong, not letting up until you fell apart on his dick one final time, this time with your juices spraying and splashing between your bodies. Your tightness mixed with the sudden wetness of your squirt sent him over the edge, causing him to yell out as he finally released deep inside you. 
“Fuuuck!!” His hips twitched and stuttered as he emptied himself out, not daring to pull out while you were still grasping onto him from underneath.
You whimpered, your body trembling, shaking like a leaf as your nails dug into his shoulders, deep enough to leave a few red crescent-shaped marks. The feeling of his nut filling you gave you the warmest feeling in your tummy, satisfaction spreading through your mind, body, and soul.
The two of you rested for a moment, the sounds of your heavy breathing became your only focus. The audience laughter from the television was more noticeable now, but neither of you could care less. Silas let more of his weight fall on you, cradling you from above while you calmed down your breathing. You turned your face, tucking yourself into his neck and leaving a few soft kisses on the damp skin in appreciation. 
Silas softly chuckled when you teased him with your tongue against his collarbone, knowing you both were too tuckered out for another round just yet. He pulled out of you, slowly, hissing at the overstimulation on his sensitive length. Sitting back on his knees in between your legs, he watched in admiration as seed spilled from your swollen lips, giving him a perfect view of the most beautiful painting he’s ever laid his eyes on–better than anything he’s seen in the MET. 
Observing his mark on you–in you–was gratifying, a surge of endearment and devotion growing within his own core. “C’mere..” 
You obeyed, lazily allowing him to reposition you on top of his chest, your faces just centimeters apart. 
“Tell me somethin’ real quick...you meant it?” 
That vulnerable look was back, although he did try to hide it by avoiding eye contact, instead focusing on your slightly puffy lips, swollen from all the kissing and biting and sucking. You knew what he was talking about, and you knew it was more than just dirty sex talk–something had been growing between the two of you and it was undeniable at this point. 
“Every word.”
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buffyfan145 · 3 days
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Another great episode with ep 2.6 of "Rings of Power" today!!! 😀 So much happened in it and we only have 2 more episodes!!! Lots to talk about behind the cut but I think I figured out the whole "who Galadriel is kissing" thing and it's not any of the "leaks" we saw as I think the promo for next week showed part of it but something I wondered about when I first heard Morfydd say it. 😏 Also I loved hearing Elendil's dad Amandil being mentioned as I always loved his name is so similar to mine. LOL
I loved the episode and so much happened!!! All of Sauron's scenes were amazing, as well as Celebrimbor's. Both Charlies brought it again and I feel so bad for Celebrimbor. We all what's going and it's so sad. Then seeing Sauron use more of his Maiar powers and doing what we call the mind palace manipulating to Celebrimbor. And him saying the world "precious" twice!!! Then also seeing Sauron with the dwarves and likely calling up the balrog, and then the siege starting. We also finally got to see Charlie Rich too playing one of the elves.
Then everything with Galadriel and Adar was great too!!! 😀 I loved their conversations about Sauron and how Adar figured out Halbrand was Sauron. Also he knows Galadriel lied to him about what Sauron offered her too. I'm curious how he thinks combing Morgoth's crown (which I didn't expect as that does go a bit against the books as Morgoth has that crown around his neck in the Void keeping him there) with Nenya will kill Sauron for good. We know that won't happen and that Sauron actually still didn't die when Frodo destroyed the ring, as he's still out there in Middle Earth as a formless spirit. So curious again how this is going to play out in the finale with Galadriel and Sauron as she won't kill him.
Then that brings me to the kiss that's coming for Galadriel and seeing the promo for next week's ep I do think it's Celebrimbor. There's part of the promo where she's with him in his forge and she's holding his face kneeling beside him on the floor. I think this is likely when he's dying and it's making me wonder if she tries to save him via a kiss, like she did with Gandalf in "The Hobbit" movies, but it doesn't work and he dies in her arms. The thing with the banner happens after his death with the orcs so it's possible this is how he dies, and if the show got the rights to that 1st Age story about how Celebrimbor was in love with Galadriel but she fell in love with Celeborn they could work that in too that she's with him when he dies. I can see them doing this and his death is tragic already but I also wouldn't mind if when he does die she's with him so he's not alone. So all those "leaks" about the kiss are likely all false if this is really what happens, and I'm totally ok with this as even being a Haladriel shipper I didn't think they'd go that far with a kiss this early in the show (though I can tell they've confirmed they both have feelings for each other) and the whole thing with Elrond are lies made up to make us shippers angry. We'll see if I'm right but I do believe this likely is what is happening.
Back to kisses the Poppy and Merimac one was cute. And I thought Elendil and Mirel were going to 3 times. LOL 😀 The whole Numenor storylines this episode was great!!! I loved Miriel was able to prove she's still queen and it extends the whole Faithfull vs The King's Men more as we've got a ways to go before Sauron gets there hopefully back in his Halbrand form. But now Ar-Pharazon knows that Halbrand is Sauron and he needs him!!! Also, loved how Elendil was looking very much like Aragorn and even Halbrand in this episode.
Even more convinced The Stranger is Gandalf after his talk with Tom Bombadil and the thing he said to him that is almost exactly what Gandalf said in the movies. I do think The Stranger/Gandalf is going to go save Nori, Poppy, and the stoors and that's likely when we find out his name is Gandalf. Curious if he'll face the Dark Wizard (who is likely a Blue wizard) this season or if that will be next.
So excited for the final 2 episodes of season 2!!! Though I know the 2 year wait will be coming after that. Also looking forward to those scenes of Adar and Elrond next week that were in the trailer too.
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skele-bunny · 1 day
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YOU!!!!!
GIVE ME WATER DEW BONDING WITH AETHER PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE I AM BEGGING ON MY HANDS N KNEES RNNN 🫶🫶🫶
MMEEEEE???!?? hehehe say less... Some aren't bonding but just them bc I'm NOT normal about those 2
Once they got past the hiding stage, or at least better than it used to be, they honestly spent a lot of time reading together! Aether would find one about some niche interest they both shared and he'd read to Dew, and then it'd be Dew's turn. Aether would always stare at Dewy as he spoke, how his tied back hair still managed to have loose strands fall next to his cheek. Just humming and suddenly forgetting what's actually being read to him as he's so entranced with the little fish right in front of him.
How they'd sit in the practice room, just them, always doing some type of parallel play. Aether strumming his acoustic hagstrom while looking over his own music while Dew is cleaning his basses, catching little glimpses at Aether and face getting SO warm. He just didn't know there'd be times Aether just watched him with admiration before looking away so he didn't get caught.
Now when they got SUPER comfortable with each other and Dew's honest personality started coming out; they had a little game with each other. Who could hypnotize who first. Dew, with his siren songs or Aether, with his quintessence. So many times Dew won, just softly singing to Aether who's on his knees and just admiring with this drunken look — but a few times Dew would be a puddle in Aether's hold with eyes full of stars, leaning against him.
When they first bonded together, they didn't mate which was super unnatural. Dew simply wasn't ready, and Aether respected that. How they ignored their own instincts and just held each other tightly through the night. It wasn't for a while until Dew felt comfortable enough to finally mate with him, and man :( it was so gentle and slow. Aether has always been the kinda guy to have candles lit in the bedroom, and Dew will ALWAYS associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla for their first time together.
After they were forcefully retired, Dew finally started the conversation of moving in together. Aether absolutely wanted it, and they had begun filling out the form (which was needed at the time) for a room change. Eventually, though, that form was approved but only after Copia arrived. Dew no longer had a sense of what he wanted. Although approved, Dew still has a separate room with all of his old stuff that he only goes to when he needs alone time. Otherwise, he and Aether share his.
"Firefly" came from Aether watching as Dew's bioluminescence kept going in and out while passing through tunnels on the tour bus. He knew it was just because of the lighting but he still found it beyond adorable. "Teddy" came from Dew half asleep and kept whimpering needing his teddy bear he had at the time, stumbling into what he thought was his bunk but instead Aether's and clinging to him.
Dew was a Fergie lover back then, and so many times would just be singing and dancing with Aether in his room. Glamorous and Clumsy was his favorites, and Aether finally gifted him the CD one day and ever since then for like three whole months, you could hear Fergie in the den. Aether got SOOO much shit for it by the others bc to be honest, after hearing Fergalicious after so many times can drive someone mad, but Aether didn't mind. He'd eventually start singing Fergie without realizing and Dew would get SO fucking excited.
There was a brief period where Dew would suddenly bite Aether, and Aether would never figure it out as to why or what would trigger it. They'd just be cuddling and then BAM, his arm is bit. They're making dinner, Dew reaches over on his tiptoes and bites his shoulder. Every time Aether would ask "What was that for?" Dew would just purr soooo much and stay silent. To this day, he still doesn't know that it was Dew laying claim on him. Water ghouls and biting man....
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to-thelakes · 1 day
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nothing but a pass time (lip gallagher x reader)
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content warning(s); underage smoking, mentions of underage drinking, sad!lip, comfort, hints of angst (unrequited love)
summary; the summer had come around but you and lip were always the same. except it was harder to ignore your brewing feelings now.
series masterlist
i have edited and read this part over so many times that i feel like i'm not actually making it better anymore, so here it is! more of my babies, the next few parts are gonna get a little angst-heavy from both lip and reader's side but then i think it's gonna settle a bit and hopefully get a little better, i have the next three parts all partly/fully written and they're sad but also sweet (comfort is real and lip NEEDS iT, this poor man), so anyway, here's the new part hehe
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“My dad would kill you if he found us,” You said as you rounded the corner with Lip. He had texted you, asking you to come and meet him. You didn’t mind. You’d been dying to see him after a too-long shift at the store. You had been there all day, sweating and dealing with shitty customers, and that one text was enough for you to be filled with a familiar sense of glee. 
You didn’t need a reason to see Lip, you never had but something about him asking to see you made you giddy. That text was enough to have you halfway out the door in minutes, changed, showered and beaming.
Though, that had always been the case.
The cigarette between your lips was new though. You had never been one for smoking but Lip had somehow gotten you into it. You only smoked with him though.
“They still think we’re dating?” Lip asked as you stopped by one of the pillars that held the El tracks up. The train only came every twenty minutes or so this late at night. So it was peaceful, quiet and you could smoke without being disturbed.
You were the one to plop yourself down first, feet aching from being on them all day. Working nearly a 10 hour shift was not for the weak and you were wondering why you’d bothered to do it to yourself.
“I dunno,” You shrugged as you took a drag of the cigarette Lip had handed to you. He sat down beside you, head resting back against the concrete. You let the smoke fill your lungs before you breathed it out into the night air. It was cooler than it had been all day, you didn’t feel like the air was suffocating you, just the cigarette, “Hard to tell with them at the moment,” You shrugged, the hint of something more beneath those words but neither of you dug into it. Lip simply nodded and you offered the cigarette back. He took it from between your two fingers and took a long drag.
He looked sad. You assumed that’s why he had even bothered you this late. He knew you’d been working all day and he had always used it as an excuse to keep to himself. But tonight, he seemed to want to see you. You were never going to deny him.
You hadn’t ever denied him anything.
You watched as he blew the smoke out through his nose and you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder. He briefly tensed up before relaxing. 
He had gotten so jumpy recently. 
You tried to ignore it.
“What’s up?” You asked after a moment of silence. He offered the cigarette to you but you waved him off. You could feel the nicotine buzzing through your system, not used to the high after nearly a week of not seeing Lip.
“Karen’s got this guy,” Lip said after a moment of silent contemplation, “Jody. Some fuckin’ asshole twice her age,” He explained, waving his free hand out. He then put the cigarette between his lips, breathing in the smoke and speaking as he exhaled, “Hasn’t even fucked her. She says it’s some Sex Addicts Anonymous shit. I don’t get it,” Lip said as he choked slightly on the smoke. You should have known this is where the conversation would go so you simply reached your hand out for the cig.
Lip passed it over without question.
Part of him hated himself for corrupting you. You had never touched a drop of alcohol until he convinced you otherwise. And you had resisted smoking cigarettes until one night a few months back at a party with him. 
You had been pretty drunk at that party and he had casually offered his cigarette to you. He hadn’t thought much of it, expecting you to shake your head and tell him to ‘fuck off’ as you always did. Instead, you had taken it from his fingers, taken a drag and coughed on the smoke. 
But that didn’t stop you from taking another drag.
Now every time he watched the smoke curl out from between your lips, he felt bad. Like he had doomed you to some horrible fate.
“And she said that they’re together and just sit under the stars and talk and shit. I mean, who does that?” He asked. You tried to bite back the reply that that’s exactly what the two of you did but you kept your mouth shut, “We’re teenagers. We’re meant to be fucking each other and doing stupid shit. Not- not watching cartoons and fucking cooking together. It’s- it’s just bullshit,” Lip was frustrated. You could tell and you couldn’t blame him. Not really.
Part of you just felt sorry for him. You knew that he had fallen for Karen but she never really shared those feelings. At least, not that you could tell. She liked him and she liked to fuck him but you were never sure if it was more.
Another part of you was happy she was fucking with Lip’s head. Maybe it made you spiteful but you wanted him to understand how it felt to have someone always keep you at arm’s length.
You tried not to think about that though. 
You were his friend. 
You were there to help him, not celebrate his pain.
“Are you still fucking her?” You asked after a moment. You weren’t entirely sure how to make Lip feel better. You weren’t well-versed in this shit.
He nodded.
“Yeah but it’s this guy. He’s a fucking asshole,” Lip bit back, cigarette hanging from his lips. You rolled your eyes and took the cigarette from between his lips to take a puff yourself. You stayed quiet for a minute, not sure what to say.
“At least you still get to fuck her,” You responded, trying to see the bright side. You wanted to make him feel better, “Clearly if they aren’t even fucking, it doesn’t mean that much. So, give it a few months and she’ll be past him.” The words felt heavy on your tongue, trying to ignore the truth in what you were saying.
Lip had never fucked you and you had always been nothing but a pass-time for him. A friend to cry to and seek comfort from but nothing more. You knew that you didn’t mean that much to Lip. Not as much as Karen anyway.
“Yeah, maybe,” Lip said as he glanced down to watch you blow the smoke from between your lips. You tapped the edge of the cigarette on your thigh, ashes flying through the air just as an El train passed overhead.
It was deafening but the noise gave you some solace. You hadn’t noticed Lip looking at you and so you let yourself feel the heaviness. It was just for a moment and then you put your guard back up.
But for a moment, you let yourself frown. Let yourself feel sad. Feel lonely. Feel fucking stupid.
Then you were back to normal.
Once the train had passed, you spoke again.
“The way I see it, he’s either gonna break up with her or they’re gonna fuck. Either way, she’ll come back to you,” You decided after a moment. You weren’t sure if it was true. You had no experience with relationships. You’d only ever kissed people drunk at parties so you were talking out your ass.
But Lip just hummed along and took the cigarette from between your fingers. He took another drag and then smushed the butt of it against the grass, putting it out.
“Everything okay with you?” Lip asked after a beat of silence. Your head lifted from his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d asked if you were okay. Usually, you told him anyway but he never asked.
“Yeah, why?” You responded, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He shrugged, meeting your gaze. Your eyes were boring into him and he felt guilty seeing the confusion. The way your eyebrows furrowed at his question as if you weren’t his best friend. As if he didn’t care about you.
“Y’just seem tired, that’s all,” He responded, shrugging. He was trying not to be defensive but it was hard not to be.
“Had a long day, it’s fine,” You retorted as you reached into the top pocket of his shirt. You didn’t ask before you grabbed the pack of cigarettes. Instead, you just plucked a stick out and grabbed his lighter. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked. You looked up at him, a teasing smile on your lips.
“Bumming a smoke,” You stated before you placed the cigarette between your lips. You used your hand to shelter the end of the cig before flicking the lighter on. The bright flame illuminated your face, eyes shining in the light. It was there for a split second before you had successfully lit the cigarette.
“You been smokin’ with someone else?” He asked. You scoffed, dropping the cigarette pack and lighter back into his pocket before you took a drag.
“Fuck off, as if,” You dead-panned as you exhaled. You then took another drag, leaving the cigarette hanging off your lips as you blew the smoke out of your nose. It was Lip’s turn to take the cigarette from your lips now. He made eye contact with you as he took it, placing it between his own.
Fuck. You hated when he did shit like that.
The way he looked at you like he really gave a shit.
You tried not to think about it.
“Good,” He said before he took his own drag. You two sat in silence like that for a while, sharing the cigarette. You knew it was bad for you. You had told yourself you’d never be a smoker but the summer was long and being around Lip was painful. The nicotine made it easier to deal with.
So you just smoked until Lip - once again - put it out in the dirt. He then just stared, another El train passing overhead. You were both quiet for a moment before you sighed. You needed to go home.
“Got work tomorrow,” You muttered after a beat. It was you saying you needed to leave without really saying it at all. But you did, you needed to get out of here.
“Stay at mine tonight?” He asked. You shook your head.
“Gotta leave early, starting at 6. Would just wake you up. You’re grumpy that early,” You stated as you looked up at him. He frowned. You didn’t know what else to say to him and so you just looked at each other for a moment.
“Want you to stay over,” He mumbled, looking away. You ran your hands across your face, wondering if you were really gonna let this happen. But you already knew the answer the second he had asked the question.
“Let me grab my shit,” You gave in. Lip couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. It felt like a victory, a small victory. 
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starcurtain · 2 days
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I love your post so much I love how everything is backed by evidence. I wanted to ask for your opinions on ratio and aventurine's relationship (relationship in general, not necessarily in a romantic sense).
My mind keeps goes back to Aventurine and "Aventurine"'s conversation about Ratio's fake betrayal part of the plan and Aventurine says "Or maybe he wasn't acting at all?". I just keep thinking about how even though Ratio did exactly what he was supposed to do to help the plan succeed, Aventurine can't help but doubt the motives of the person that he's working with even when he does exactly what will benefit his plan. I've just been thinking that maybe it's another part of Aventurine where he can't completely trust anyone. I've seen a lot of post where people state that they had a great deal of trust in each other and that's why the plan succeeded but ignore what that line means for how Aventurine might've felt about it.
And then on Ratio's side of this, I do think he cares about Aventurine's well being but only does what he can to help him because if he tried to force Aventurine to be better, to treat himself better, it wouldn't really change Aventurine's mind on his self if it's for someone else's sake instead of his own. The little flavor text of Ratio's sticker in 2.3 mentioned how he's "just doing what a supporting character should do." which is, supporting the main character I'd think. Ratio does genuinely care for humanity so I can't think the only reason he sticks around Aventurine is "because he makes an interesting conversation partner than most."
I just can't stop thinking about how they're undoubtedly connected for another reason besides just their work, and I am just so curious about what the writers have in mind for their cooperation in the future. sorry for my trash heap ✌️ if this is too incomprehensible I understand not answering it
Okay, the full answer to this ask is over here in a separate post, since I thought it might stretch people's dashes a bit if I didn't, BUT before we get to that, there is one little thing I wanted to say and don't have room for in the other post:
You mention: Aventurine says "Or maybe he wasn't acting at all?" I just keep thinking about how even though Ratio did exactly what he was supposed to do to help the plan succeed, Aventurine can't help but doubt the motives of the person that he's working with even when he does exactly what will benefit his plan.
And while I agree that Aventurine has TRUST ISSUES stamped on his forehead, I also think that a lot of people kind of gloss over one major aspect of the scenes between Aventure and "Future" Aventurine, which is that:
Aventurine spends most of those scenes convinced he's actually talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power.
Aventurine starts off suggesting the "Future" Aventurine is a dream or psychotic hallucination.
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He rejects the idea that "Future" Aventurine is actually himself at all, and asserts that this "Future" figure is a "newborn of the Harmony's power." He even has a throwaway line asking if he's about to become an Emanator of the Harmony himself. (And the Ena-Gaiathra fans rejoiced.)
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Normally I would say that's all there is to this, Aventurine just not wanting to accept this ghostly version of himself and the harsh truths it keeps bringing to light.
But, throughout the entire lead up to the end of 2.1, we get weird moments where the "Future" Aventurine asks for information it should already have. A lot of these are passed off as "Well, I just want to hear you say it yourself!" but... if it's truly Aventurine himself and knows all there is to know about him, why does it need to hear the info from the real Aventurine?
Why do we continually get exchanges that strongly call into question what the "Future" Aventurine even knows?
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And:
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Later:
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(Shouldn't it have already known?)
Repeatedly, the "Future" Aventurine says things that imply it is still learning about the real Aventurine:
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Even up their very last scene together, the "Future" Aventurine was constantly pressing the real Aventurine to reveal every detail of his plan:
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"Future" Aventurine goes through the cornerstone shuffle, guesses at Ratio's involvement, pushes Aventurine to reveal the broken Aventurine cornerstone, asks what tactics Aventurine intends to use to win his gamble, how the IPC fits into all of this, and finally comes to the realization that Aventurine plans to use Acheron to create "death."
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We could go very deep with this and suggest all these weird "Did you or did you not know this information? Are you really me or not?" exchanges are just meant to show Aventurine's doubting nature, that his mind is a mess and that he doesn't, even at his deepest, understand himself, but I don't think the devs did this accidentally. We're being given plausible deniability on purpose.
At the very least, we players are supposed to ask ourselves: Could it be that this really is the Harmony and not Aventurine himself?
Until the very last scene, when "Future" Aventurine completely changes his tune to gentle empathy, real Aventurine is definitely convinced that he's still talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power.
Right after the line about Ratio's betrayal supposedly being real or not, Aventurine is still saying:
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Or, an even clearer indicator that real Aventurine was convinced he was talking to Sunday's manipulations: The "Future" Aventurine is listed as ??? in the dialogue option all the way to the very end, when Aventurine at last accepts that he may be speaking to himself, and the name card finally changes to "Aventurine."
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So, what to make of this line then:
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Personally, I think there's enough dubiousness to the whole situation to suggest that we can't really take this line at face value.
Is Aventurine genuinely doubting Ratio here... or, convinced that he's still talking to the Harmony, is Aventurine scrambling to try to keep the last details of their plan out of Sunday's reach?
If after this line he's still telling "Future" Aventurine to stop stealing information from his mind, can we really expect him to be speaking truth here?
Throughout all of these scenes with "Future" Aventurine, real Aventurine continually refuses to reveal new details about his plot, forcing "Future" Aventurine to fill in the gaps. It's clear from other lines throughout the theme park scenes that Aventurine is intentionally avoiding giving away any specifics that the "Future" doesn't already know:
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So to me, even though I agree that Aventurine has been made into a distrustful person by his traumatic experiences and I think he does doubt the sincerity of everyone around him...
I don't necessarily think this one line about Ratio should be held up as an example of that deep doubt.
I think there's enough suspicion cast on the "Future" Aventurine and its possible connections to the power of the Harmony that many of the things Aventurine says to it might actually be attempts to mislead and distract, so that he can carry his final gamble through without Family intervention.
And I think looking at this line about Ratio from that mindset also introduces an entirely different possibility many people seem to overlook:
Is it out of character for Aventurine to make sure the only person sacrificed in his gambles is himself?
If Aventurine really thought he was talking to a manifestation of Sunday's power, could it be that saying "Maybe Ratio wasn't acting! Maybe he really did betray me!"... wasn't doubt, but an attempt to protect his co-conspirator? To shift the blame away from Ratio and spare him from the fallout if their plan ultimately went awry? To make himself the Family's only target?
I'M JUST SAYIN'!!
Anyway, totally go read the rest of the actual answer about Aventurine and Ratio's relationship now~! It's all posted!
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scary-grace · 1 day
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Enough to Go By (Chapter 16) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic
Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15
Chapter 16
“We can’t stop here.”
“Why not? It’s out of the way. There are abandoned buildings. It’s perfect.” Dabi gestures down at the small village between the hills. “I don’t get what your problem is.”
Spinner crosses his arms over his chest. “Just trust me. It’s not a good place.”
“Why not?” Toga asks – whines, almost. “I’m tired. It’s dark. Can’t we just find somewhere and –”
“We’ll protect you if there are ghosts!” Twice chimes in. “Or you can sleep in a tree.”
Spinner’s shoulders stiffen. “Hey,” you warn. You turn your attention to Spinner. “If you know something we don’t that makes it not safe for everybody –”
“It’s safe for you all,” Spinner says. “Not for me. This is a sundown town. The CRC has a branch here.”
Your heart sinks. “The who?” Tomura says blankly. Everybody else looks just as confused.
“The Creature Rejection Clan,” you say, before anyone can prompt Spinner to explain. He shouldn’t have to explain. “They’re a hate group. Against people whose quirks visibly alter their bodies.”
“Mutants,” Spinner says shortly. “If they catch you with me we’ll all be in trouble. It’s safer to find somewhere else.”
“No,” Tomura says. You look askance at him, and you’re not the only one. “Fuck them. They don’t own this town. Why should you have to leave? Let’s just kill them and then we can all sleep.”
“Um –” You feel like you should say something about this turn of events. Like that murdering however many people are in this town’s CRC branch is a bad idea if you’re trying to keep a low profile. “Shouldn’t somebody scout and find out what we’re looking at as far as numbers go? I can do that.”
“Yes,” Compress agrees. “We should plan –”
“We don’t need a plan.” Tomura cuts him off. “We’ll tell them we’re there to steal their shit. When they attack us, we’ll kill them, and then we’ll steal their shit. Easy.”
“Like an item drop,” Spinner says, and cracks a weak, angry grin. “Fine with me. Let’s go.”
The CRC branch headquarters isn’t hard to spot. The League strategizes quietly on the walk there, trying to decide who will attack what, and you walk in the middle, unsure of what to do. They’ll tell you what to do, right? Somebody will. It’s not like you can fight. Sure enough, Tomura drops back from a conversation with Twice and falls into step beside you. “I want you to stay out front.”
“Still keeping your precious Saintess’s hands clean?” Dabi sneers. “She’s on the run. It’s too late.”
“We need a lookout,” Tomura says. “If it looks like backup’s coming, we need to know. And if anybody gets out –”
“Not likely!” Toga trills.
“Someone needs to stop them,” Tomura continues. “Can you do that?”
“Yes.” You answer before you’ve really thought about it, but you won’t be any use in the main fight, and if they’re doing this, you need to help. Besides, how hard could it be?
The answer to the question “how hard could it be” turns out to be “pretty hard”. The League is outnumbered, unable to use Dabi’s wide-range quirk without potentially burning themselves alive, and Toga and Spinner are the only ones who actually use weapons in hand-to-hand combat. The front door locks from the inside, and while you know Compress locked it on the League’s way in, it must not be very hard to unlock, because there are multiple people trying to open it and escape. You throw your weight back against it to keep it shut, but you’re not going to be able to forever. “Um –”
“Hey, where are you guys going?” Toga’s voice is syrupy sweet and all the more terrifying for it. You hear an agonized shriek. “Come back in! We were just starting to have fun!”
The pressure on the door lessens significantly, but a moment later, there’s a crash, followed by someone in a creepy mask diving through a window and sprawling out on the ground in front of you. This is your job to deal with, but you don’t have a weapon. A quick check of your surroundings reveals an umbrella stand by the door. You knock it over, spilling the umbrellas, then pick up the stand. The CRC member is on their hands and knees, struggling to rise, and you deliver a sharp strike to their kidneys with the base of the stand.
You knew what you were aiming at. You know it hurts. The CRC member shrieks, and your stomach turns. “Stay down.”
Toga vaults through the window and lands on the ground, graceful like a cat. “Thanks for grabbing him,” she says. She stabs one of her syringes into the man’s leg and his body jerks as the device on her back begins to suction blood at a rate that collapses his veins. “We’re almost done in there. It’s too bad you couldn’t see Tomura-kun fight. You’d like it when he gets angry.”
You don’t know that you would. You don’t feel very good about what you just did. You’re not sorry that you hit the guy who tried to escape, and you’re not sorry that the members of a hate group are getting what’s coming to them, but – you don’t really know why you feel weird. You just know it’s the kind of thing you should keep to yourself.
The front door opens just as Toga’s finished draining blood from the man you hit. Dabi sticks his head out. “Grab that guy and get in here. We’re searching the place.”
Toga grabs the dead man’s feet, leaving you to grab beneath his shoulders, and the two of you drag him up the front steps and into the house. You’re used to handling the injured. You’re not used to dead bodies. You’re more than a little relieved to set him down, and you don’t feel entirely better until Tomura’s touched him and turned the corpse to dust. “We’re searching in groups, in case anybody hid,” he informs you and Toga. “Toga, you’re with Compress. And you’re with me and Spinner.”
You nod and follow them deeper into the house – Tomura in front of you, Spinner behind. “Did either of you get hurt?” you ask. There’s an awkward silence. “I need to know.”
“I got clipped. It’s not that bad,” Spinner says. You glance back and see him grimacing, and you switch spots with him in line without another word. “It’s not that bad. Seriously.”
“I’ll look at it once we’re done,” you decide. You address Tomura next. “What about you?”
“They couldn’t touch me.” Tomura disintegrates the first door the three of you come to and peers inside. “Empty. Let’s search.”
There’s not much in the room. Some antiques, but those are easier to trace than regular stolen goods and would be harder to sell. There’s a bookshelf, and a case full of ancient bladed weapons, which Spinner promptly breaks and begins to sort through. “These are old but good,” he says. “They did a better job with steel back in the day. Here.”
He’s holding out a knife to you. “You should have a real weapon. I don’t know how you stopped the guy who got out –”
“Umbrella stand.”
Spinner looks honestly taken aback. “A knife’s faster,” he says. “Take it.”
“Thanks,” you say. You’ll have to think of somewhere to put it later. It won’t be much use in your backpack.
Out of everybody who’s searching the house, you and Toga come up with the items with the highest resale value – Toga has a good eye for clothing, and having recently hidden your own jewelry from Compress, you have a good idea of where to look for concealed objects. Rather than helping with the search, Dabi’s gone looking for food, but in spite of the fact that he’s found whatever the CRC was planning to eat at the conclusion of their meeting, he’s still in a mood. “Why are we doing this? Wasn’t the point of the supply caches so we wouldn’t have to?”
“This wasn’t just for food and a place to sleep. It was about taking out the trash, same as dealing with Overhaul was.” Tomura starts picking through the food. You sit Spinner down to check out his injury. “There’s no place for them in the new world.”
Dabi makes a derisive noise, and nobody else is paying attention – but you’re right up close with Spinner, and you see his eyes widen. “The new world?” he asks quietly. “I’ve never heard him say that before. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
You nod. “You should ask him.”
“No, you should tell me so I can decide if I want to know. I – ow.”
“Sorry,” you say. “Do you know what this is from?”
“It was a pitchfork. Classic, right?” Spinner scowls, grimaces, while you explore the wounds. They’re deep, but not deep enough to do real muscle or organ damage. Infection will be the biggest risk – like it usually is. “How’d you know about the CRC? Most people who have quirks like mine – don’t.”
“Most big cities have CRC offshoots. Yokohama’s no different.” You clean out the wounds one at a time, doing your best to be gentle. “They have neighborhoods they hang out in, and the clinic I worked in sat near the border of one. People they attack come to the clinic for treatment. Or hide in there to get away. The CRC are, um –”
“Top-flight assholes.”
“Yeah.” You pick up some bandages and a roll of medical tape. “I shouldn’t have talked over you earlier. I just didn’t want you to have to explain.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad somebody else knew what I was talking about.” Spinner gives you a curious look. “How are you doing with all this?”
“This?”
“Being on the run.”
“Oh,” you say. “It’s fine.”
It’s been three weeks since you took a leave of absence from work and ran for the hills, and since then, life’s been broken up into long periods of travel and short periods of stillness. Kurogiri was captured by the heroes sometime after the temporary alliance with Overhaul was made, which means that overland travel at night is the only way the seven of you can get anywhere without getting in trouble. You aren’t doing hardly any fighting, and your medical skills are only needed when somebody needs patching up, but you’re keeping busy in spite of that. You’re still the only person the police aren’t looking for.
Scouting, supply runs, running interference if the daytime hiding place is at risk of being found – all of it falls to you. You’re supposed to be a medic. On a day-to-day basis, you’re logistical support. It’s exhausting, but not particularly dangerous. It feels more like a hard day’s work than anything else, and at the end of it, you’re with Tomura, which is the important thing. You’re there to remind him that a new world can be built after the old one’s been destroyed, to convince him that the new world is something he wants to be a part of. That’s your job now, more than anything else.
Tomura comes over to check on you and Spinner. “How bad is it?”
“Painful, but they aren’t deep,” you report. “I’ll monitor them, but the infection risk is low so long as we all stay clean.”
“That’s the hard part,” Spinner mumbles. “It’s too cold to take baths outside.”
“Saintess said no more baths outside anyway,” Twice calls from the other side of the room. “Since some people can’t swim.”
“You can say Tomura-kun,” Toga says. “It’s okay.”
The realization that Tomura can’t swim was an unpleasant one for everybody, since it necessitated yanking him out of an icy pond while avoiding contact with his quirk. Twice and his clones came in handy, and nothing bad happened other than embarrassment on Tomura’s part, but it’s still not an experience you want anybody to repeat. “We’ll find ways. Worst comes to worst, I’ll rent us a motel room.”
“One motel room for all of us? You’d be doing the heroes’ work for them,” Dabi sneers. “If I have to sleep in a confined space with all of you, you’ll be dead by dawn.”
“Fine. The roof of the hypothetical motel room is all yours.”
Tomura looks irritated. “He’s this close to being more trouble than he’s worth,” he says in a low voice. “We could cut him loose without the risk he’d turn us in. He hates heroes as much as I do.”
“Yeah, but he’s our only ranged attack,” Spinner says practically. “I say stick it out.”
Tomura glances at you. You hate it when he does that on questions about strategy. “Keep him,” you agree. “He’s all talk.”
Tomura nods, still dissatisfied. Spinner looks a little nervous about it, but you aren’t – it’ll dissipate, like most of Tomura’s bad moods do sooner or later. He’s moody, but not volatile. “Do you want food?” he asks abruptly. You nod. After a second, so does Spinner, and Tomura gets up and walks away.
“Is he really getting food for us?” Spinner asks. You nod again. “And you’re sure about the new world thing. It’s not going to piss him off if I ask?”
You shake your head. Tomura mentioned Spinner specifically as someone you should talk about it with, but you think the idea itself should come from Tomura. The mission all of you are on is Tomura’s dream, really – you’re just trying to make sure it doesn’t kill him.
Tomura comes back with some of the food that Dabi scavenged, passes it out, and sits down next to you to eat. Spinner waits until Tomura’s mouth is full before he asks. “So, uh – you mentioned a new world. What’s that about?”
“Ask her.”
“No.” You glare at Tomura. “I’m your sidekick. It’s your idea. Tell him like you told me.”
“I’m not telling him like that,” Tomura says, and you elbow him, exasperated. He’s smirking slightly behind the hand as he addresses Spinner. “The old world has to be destroyed. Once it’s gone there’s a blank slate. And you –”
You elbow him again. “We get to decide what it should be like,” Tomura corrects himself. “Mainly her. And the two of you should talk about it, because you have ideas, too. Right?”
“Uh –”
“Anti-discrimination laws,” you suggest. Tomura snorts. “Come on. Anarchy isn’t sustainable long-term. A new world won’t automatically be better than the old one. If we don’t want it to be worse, we have to make sure it isn’t.”
“If you say so.” Tomura wolfs down his last few bites of food, then lies down, stretching out with his head in your lap. “I’m done planning for today.”
You can tell Spinner doesn’t like seeing Tomura call it quits when there are things to do. You make eye contact with him and try to bridge the gap. “You wouldn’t have checked out from the world if you thought it was a good place to be. Tell me what’s wrong with it.”
You and Spinner talk a bit while Tomura dozes, but things are winding down, and eventually the League barricades the front door, shuts the windows, and retreats into two of the back rooms to sleep. Tomura stirs when everyone else leaves, but when you try to get up, he won’t let you. “We can’t sleep out here,” you remind him.
Tenko kisses you. “Who said anything about sleeping?”
“Tenko –”
He cuts you off with another kiss, one hand sliding inside your jacket, the other dipping into the pocket where you keep his gloves. Tenko’s hair is getting long. You weave your fingers through it as he puts on the gloves, trying to ground yourself, to find a second of calm. You know there won’t be any once Tenko gets his gloves on.
In retrospect, having sex with Tenko for the first time the night before you went on the run might not have been the best idea, because Tenko’s been taking advantage of every second where the others are looking away ever since. In some ways it’s hot. You’ve never had a boyfriend who’s this handsy with you, this addicted to you, and the fact that Tenko barely cares about being caught in the middle of something makes it even better. But as hot as it is, you’re not sure about doing whatever Tenko’s got in mind in a place where at least two dozen people just died.
You don’t even know what he’s got in mind. “Tenko,” you mumble as his lips press against your neck. He bites down slightly and you shiver. “What are you doing?”
“Give me a second.” He’s leaving marks. One at the side of your mouth, one down against your shoulder, and you feel almost uncomfortably hot at the idea that it’ll all be visible without your veil. “Don’t rush me.”
You’re not going to rush him, but your discomfort is building, and if you don’t do something soon, it’ll be too late. You plant your hand on Tenko’s chest and push him back, crawling over him to press your lips against his. You know Tenko likes it when you show you want him, and it’s not hard for you to do. It’s not the idea of hooking up right now that bothers you – more the venue, and you find yourself caring less and less about it with every second that passes. Something is wrong with you.
Knowing that doesn’t stop you from straddling Tenko’s lap, grinding against him. There are multiple layers of clothing between you, but you know he’s getting hard, and you can pretend that the heat between your legs is the result of his touch rather than simple friction. Tenko’s kisses are eager and messy. His hands slide beneath your shirt, up from your waist to your breasts – but your bra is in the way. He taps it impatiently and speaks without pulling away. “I hate this thing.”
“I taught you how to unhook it.”
“Still.” In fairness to Tenko, you’re wearing a front-fastening bra. “I’m banning these in the new world.”
“You don’t get to ban stuff in the new world unless you’re planning to be in it,” you say, and your heart leaps when he doesn’t argue. Then you think about it. “Hate groups, heroes, and bras. That’s really what you want to get rid of?”
“I’ll think of other stuff,” Tenko says, unconcerned. He unfastens your bra, then runs his gloved fingers along the underside of your breasts. One of your nipples is captured between his thumb and forefinger, and he tugs and pinches lightly at it, making you squirm. “This is a good start.”
You hate it when he does this. You hate how much you like it. The friction between your legs provides the only relief, so you grind further into Tenko’s lap, looking for more. “Stop,” Tenko says, an edge to his voice. “Don’t do that if we can’t –”
“Who said we can’t?” You made one last addition to your med kit before you left, hidden in an inside pocket. You slide your backpack off your shoulders, reach inside, and produce one of several condoms. Tenko’s eyes widen. “What do you think?”
He slides his hands out from under your shirt to pull at your leggings and underwear. You decide that counts as a yes. Getting out of your clothes is a pain – your boots have to come off, followed by your leggings, followed by your underwear. Your boring underwear, according to Toga when she helped you pack. A thought crosses your mind, and like your thoughts usually do when you and Tenko are together, it comes out of your mouth. “Do you think my underwear is boring?”
“I think it’s in the way.”
You weren’t sure there was a right answer, but that counts. You kiss Tenko and work on unbuttoning his pants. It’s much less of a production for him, and once his cock is free, you can’t resist taking him in hand for a few strokes. Tenko’s body tenses in response, and you watch as his red eyes dilate. He picks up the condom on his own this time, putting it on with sharp, frantic movements, and as soon as it’s in place, you shift forward, lining up and sinking down onto his cock.
All the air leaves your lungs, and Tenko’s breath hisses out from between his teeth as you settle fully into his lap. “You didn’t give me a second,” he mumbles, his voice strained. A questioning sound is all you can manage in response. “I was going to eat you out.”
Your stomach ties itself in a knot instantly. You shift your weight, drawing your attention to the stretch and pressure of Tenko’s cock inside you instead of on what he just said – or maybe you’re trying to get him to stop talking. You’re not sure which. Either, way, it doesn’t work. “We haven’t done that yet,” he continues. Riding him isn’t shutting him up. You try kissing instead, but leaning forward to do it leads to an unsustainable change in pace, one that leaves you gasping. “I like how you taste.”
Tenko’s hands are on your hips, holding on with an iron grip. You were trying to set a faster pace, but his hold on you forces you to slow down, prolonging the slide of his cock against the most sensitive spots inside you and making you shudder. You wish you’d taken off more of your clothes. You feel hot and shaky all over and somehow even more out of control than you did when you were underneath him the first time. Tenko’s eyes are wide, pupils dilated so far that his irises are noting more than a thin red rim. His hips lift slowly beneath you as his hand leaves your hip to wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you down for a kiss.
Tenko’s pace is slow and intense, almost agonizing. Your legs are trembling so badly that you couldn’t maintain a rhythm of your own if you wanted to. Tenko holds on even as his control deteroiorates, while he twitches beneath you and moans into the kiss. When you draw back to breathe, you find his eyes squeezed shut. A tear leaks from beneath one of his eyelids, and you stare for a moment in shock before leaning in to kiss it away.
From there you kiss the scar over his right eye, the one you’ve never asked about, just like you’ve never asked about the one on his mouth – the location of your next kiss, once you’ve decided against kissing the birthmark on the other side. Tenko sucks down a breath, mumbles your name. Then: “I love you,” he says. Your stomach twists again, this time with anxiety. It doesn’t make a difference to Tenko – he moans and thrusts sharply upwards. Your body shifts independent of your mind, making sure his cock hits the right spot. “Fuck. I can’t – I love you –”
Whatever unspoken rule there is against saying I love you during sex, Tenko’s clearly never heard of it, and seeing and feeling him fall apart between your legs sends you over the edge in a few seconds more. For a moment, your mind goes totally blank, and in the absence of thought or restraint, the worlds almost slip out of your mouth, trailing after his name. “Tenko. Tenko –”
I love you. The weight of it keeps you silent. But only just.
Tenko doesn’t comment on the fact that you haven’t said it back. He never does, which is a relief. You’ve shown that you love him, and you’ll show it again, so it doesn’t need to be said. What does have to be said is the same thing you said last time. “We can’t sleep like this.”
“I know.” The sulky note in his voice almost makes you laugh.
By the time the two of you retreat to the back rooms, some of your anxiety’s worn off, and like always, you feel better once Tenko’s asleep next to you. You have him. All For One can’t take him away from you. He belongs to you, and you’ll keep him with you, through the end of the world and into the new one. The thought comforts you, but it’s not comforting enough to fall asleep on. You’re awake most of the night, like you have been for months.
The League of Villains is awake and in motion before dawn, heading towards Kurogiri’s last pre-capture coordinates. You’re not sure what’s waiting there. Tomura isn’t sure, either – just that it’s something his master left for him, some power that’s supposed to help him reach his goal. Dabi’s theory is that it’s some kind of super-Nomu, while Spinner thinks it’s a weapon. “What kind of weapon?” Twice asks. “Like a sword?”
“No, like a really big gun.”
The idea of Tomura with a really big gun is inexplicably entertaining to you. You struggle to muffle your laughter. “My quirk is better than a gun,” Tomura says. “If it’s a gun, Spinner, it’s yours.”
“Shouldn’t it be mine?” you ask. Tomura looks askance at you. “I don’t have a quirk or a real weapon. And I’m an okay shot.”
“In Call of Duty,” Tomura says. Spinner wheezes. “It’s a game.”
“We should get you a gun,” Toga decides. “Those creepy yakuza guys had one, and they had quirks. You should definitely have one, because you don’t.”
“A gun or a quirk?”
“Both,” Dabi says. He stops walking, and you walk directly into him. “Did you feel that?”
“Feel what?” Twice asks, and makes a fart joke that has Toga and Spinner groaning. “I gotta tell you, Dabi, if you can feel them –”
“There it is again,” Dabi says. He twists around to look at you. This time, you picked up on it, and so did Tomura. “What is that?”
“If I knew I’d say it,” Tomura snaps. “Sensei didn’t tell me.”
“You should have asked. If you had asked, then we wouldn’t be –” Dabi breaks off as the vibration strikes a third time, hard enough to make all of you stagger. A plume of dust rises from between the hills ahead of you. “What the hell is that?”
Not a hill. It’s not a hill. What you thought was a hill is the curved back of some giant thing, and now it’s straightening up, getting to its feet. It rears up, taller than you and everybody else by orders of magnitude, and you see that it’s human-shaped. Its features are craggy, like it’s been carved inexpertly from rough stone. Looking at it, it’s hard not to imagine that this is what Kurogiri was looking for, and it’s impossible for you to imagine that he was unable to find it – or that the heroes didn’t find it, too. All For One didn’t leave Tomura a weapon. He left him a mountain that walks.
The mountain-that-walks steps towards the group of you, rattling your bones on every step. “Master’s heir,” it says, in a voice that sounds like rocks shattering. “Where is he?”
Tomura steps forward. “Here.”
For a few moments they’re simply looking at each other, Tomura looking up and the mountain staring down. Then the mountain’s face distorts, an anguished howl issuing from a mouth filled with jagged teeth. “No! He’s too weak!”
“What?” Tomura snarls. The giant is clawing up dirt and stone from the ground, looking for something. For a weapon. Your blood turns to ice, but Tomura steps forward. “If you think you can just –”
“Die!”
The giant hurls a massive chunk of stone at Tomura, and you throw yourself forward, too, hitting Tomura in the back and knocking you both to the ground. You land hard, biting the inside of your cheek as the rock crashes down in the same spot as Tomura was standing a split second ago. The giant wails again, tears running down its face. “Weak,” it howls. “Too weak. Master, how could you do this to me?”
You’ve got seconds before it throws something else. It’s already looking around for another weapon. You drag Tomura to his feet and pull him away, ducking around the boulder and back to the League. “We need to get out of here.”
“Right now!” Spinner looks just as scared as you feel, which makes two of you who are reacting normally. “If we split up and run –”
“Outrun that thing? No way.” Dabi’s face splits into an eerie grin. “We’ll fight, right, Shigaraki? Or is that thing right about you?”
Tomura yanks his arm free of your grip and takes off toward the giant, throwing an order over his shoulder. “Get her out of here, Spinner!”
It makes sense. Spinner’s quirk doesn’t equip him well for a fight like this, just like your lack of a quirk doesn’t equip you at all. Spinner doesn’t look insulted at being stuck on girlfriend protection duty, and you’re not opposed to getting out of here – except you’ve got a job to do. “I’m the medic. I can’t leave!”
“If they get hit, there will be nothing to fix,” Compress says shortly. Your stomach turns at the thought of Tomura being struck by a flying boulder or getting crushed in the giant’s fist until he’s nothing more than a bloody smear in the dirt. “And he won’t be effective if he’s worried about your safety. Get clear.”
A wave of blue fire fills your vision, then dissipates. Toga’s voice is bordering on a shriek. “That didn’t work, Dabi!”
If Dabi’s flames aren’t having any effect, this opponent’s too dangerous for the League. Tomura’s the only one who could take the giant down, but he’d have to get close. There’s a horrible crash from somewhere ahead of you, and Spinner grabs your arm. “Let’s go!”
You balk again, agonized, but then you hear a voice – one that’s not the giant’s, not Tomura’s, not Dabi’s. Someone else. “How are you, Shigaraki? Are you well?”
“Sure,” Tomura says, tense and frustrated, “but I might be mincemeat in a second.”
“Then let’s have a chat, shall we? Stand by.”
Stand by for what? The giant’s coming. You can’t stand by. You all have to run. You try to say that, but suddenly a foul taste pervades your mouth, and it fills with something slimy, something that makes you cough and gag. Everyone else is doing the same. You hear Dabi curse, the words muffled and then choked off entirely. Your own body contorts in discomfort, and when you force your eyes open, you see black slime emerging from the others’ mouths, engulfing them entirely, engulfing you. It obscures your vision, and when you open your eyes, you’re somewhere else entirely.
It’s some kind of warp quirk, and overall, you much prefer Kurogiri’s. You glance around at your surroundings, just like the others are doing. They’re completely unfamiliar – an enormous room, high-ceilinged and dark. The only light comes from the tall capsules filled with bodies suspended in glowing liquid on either side of you, and from a bright screen up ahead. In front of the screen sits a man.
The location looks unfamiliar. But as you cough and struggle to clear the taste of the sludge from your mouth, you catch a familiar smell. Rot. Like a morgue, and suddenly you know exactly where you are. It was even darker last time, but the smell is unmistakable. This is where you met All For One.
All For One’s not here, and you have a feeling about who the man is, a feeling that’s confirmed a moment later when Tomura speaks. “Doctor,” he says. “It’s been a while.”
“Indeed. I always intended to reach out, but I wanted to see how you would do on your own. It’s been –” the doctor makes a displeased sound. “Underwhelming.”
“What part of taking down the Shie Hassaikai is underwhelming?”
“The fact that it wasn’t your doing. The heroes did the lion’s share of the work,” the doctor says, “while the lot of you merely swooped in, crippled Overhaul after he had already been captured, and kidnapped a child – only to return her. If you’d held onto her, I would have reached out sooner. That was quite a quirk you let slip through your fingers.”
“That wasn’t him. That was me,” you say. You’re not about to let Tomura take the fall for something you did, particularly when you aren’t at all sorry you did it. “If you’d reached out and let us know you were interested, I might have held onto her.”
You wouldn’t have, but there’s no need for the doctor to know that. He rises from his chair and turns to face you. “And who were you to make the determination to let her go?”
“I’m the one who’d have wound up taking care of her,” you say. You already didn’t like the doctor – the fact that he refused to care for Tomura when he was hurt leaves a bad taste in your mouth – but you like him even less now. You keep yourself conciliatory with an effort. “We didn’t have the capability to contain her quirk long-term. It was too much of a risk.”
“And you allow your underlings to make those decisions, Shigaraki?”
“I trust my comrades’ judgement,” Tomura says. “The League of Villains is functional whether we’re working as a group or not.”
“It’s quite a group,” the doctor says. “Let’s see – one teenage girl, one societal reject, two petty criminals, a serial arsonist and murderer, and a civilian to round things out.”
“You went with ‘civilian’ for Saintess? Really?” Dabi never says your codename with anything less than scorn. “Try quirkless next time. Then you’d be eight for eight.”
Now that you think about it, it’s weird that he targeted your lack of a record, when anyone else would agree that your quirklessness is the larger problem. The doctor ignores Dabi. “Still, it’s a team worth paying attention to – and perhaps worth helping, depending on what you intend to use them for. What do you intend to do with them?”
“Destroy All Might.”
The doctor tsks. “Those are your master’s words, and you aren’t him. Try again.”
“Destroy hero society.”
Tomura sounds like he’s taking a test. Taking one, and failing it. The doctor tsks again. “Close, but not quite.”
“Destroy everything,” Tomura snaps, and the doctor smiles. That smile cements your dislike for him for good. “Everything I see, I hate. There’s nothing about this world that’s worth saving, so I’ll destroy it all at once.”
Toga makes a skeptical sound. “What about me, Tomura? Are you even going to destroy the things I like?”
“There’s always room for my comrades’ wishes,” Tomura says. Toga grins. Tomura glances sideways, meets your eyes, then faces the doctor again. “My comrades can’t live as they want in this world. I can’t live in it at all. So I’ll tear it down, brick by brick, atom by atom, until there’s nothing left in our way.”
“Anarchy, then?”
“Anarchy’s not sustainable,” Tomura says, and you find yourself hiding a smile under your veil. “What happens next isn’t my problem. My comrades can choose what to do.”
“What if I don’t want to do anything?” Twice asks. “I want to drink coffee and eat sushi.”
“Ugh,” Dabi mutters. “I don’t give a shit about any of it. As long as nobody stops me from doing what I need to do.”
Every so often, Dabi alludes to some mission of his, trying to lure one of you into asking so he can tell you to fuck off. You’ve all learned to ignore it by now. “As long as the things I like are here, I don’t care what happens,” Toga says. “Everybody else can choose.”
It’s quiet after that, other than Twice musing out loud about whether sushi and coffee go together even slightly. The doctor raises his eyebrows. “Three of you are awfully quiet. Compress, Spinner, Saintess – what plans do you have after you’ve helped Shigaraki destroy everything?”
“I’m keeping my options open,” Compress says. “A true performer waits for the right moment to claim the spotlight.”
The doctor lets that go, probably because Compress is a real adult and not somebody he feels like kicking around. He faces you and Spinner. “The shut-in and the civilian. What will you do?”
Spinner opens his mouth and you cut him off. “I’ll do what Shigaraki asks of me,” you say. It’s not a lie – he’s asked you to build the new world, and you’ll do it as long as he agrees to live in it with you. “I’m his sidekick. That’s my job.”
“I’m not a sidekick, but I’ll do what Shigaraki asks, too.” Spinner’s smart enough not to bring up Tomura’s instructions about the new world. “I don’t have my own vision. I’ll follow the person with the best one.”
“And you believe Shigaraki’s vision is the best one.”
“Yes.” Spinner doesn’t hesitate.
“Remarkable,” the doctor says, but he doesn’t follow up with Spinner. Instead he turns to you. “I have no need to question your loyalty to Shigaraki. You had more to lose in following him than the others.”
More to lose, sure – but losing him would have been worse. The doctor returns his attention to Tomura. “It seems you do have some degree of vision, as warped and simplistic as it may be. And you are capable of inspiring some degree of loyalty. The situation is not as dire as I originally thought.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s still rather dire,” the doctor says, like Tomura’s acceptance of the backhanded compliment wasn’t the most sarcastic thing you’ve ever heard him say. “Still, I’ll assist you on a limited basis for now.”
“How limited?”
“Some financial support. You’re still lacking in that department. That being said,” the doctor continues, “I can promise significantly more should you convince Gigantomachia to submit to you. He was your master’s most powerful servant. If he accepts your rule, I’ll throw my considerable resources behind you.”
“So we have to fight him until he quits?” Dabi sounds skeptical. “Fuck that. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”
“Like what?” Spinner asks.
“There’s a potential ally I’m cultivating. If I’m right about him, it’ll be a coup for us. Way more than converting some random civilian.”
Tomura’s shoulders tense, and you pray he’ll let it slide – and he does. “I look forward to meeting them.”
“While you’re doing that, perhaps you can assist with the testing of a Nomu,” the doctor says. So he’s the one who makes them. You weren’t sure. “I’ve created a class of high-tiers, far more powerful than the Nomu Shigaraki deployed at USJ, and they’re ready to be tested against powerful heroes.”
Dabi looks like he’s about to tell the doctor to fuck off. Then he tilts his head, considering. “How powerful of a hero do you want?”
“As powerful as you can secure. If I’m correct about the strength of the high-tiers, lesser heroes will fall before them easily.”
Dabi cracks a nasty grin. “I’ve got somebody in mind.”
“Excellent. As for the rest of you –” the doctor snaps his fingers, and the smallest Nomu you’ve ever seen scurries forward. It’s carrying a box, and when you look closer, you see that it contains earpieces. “Take these. This is how I’ll contact you from now on.”
You each step forward to take them. “This is really it?” Twice asks, not all that quietly. “We just have to get the big guy to bow down?”
“It won’t be easy,” the doctor says. “His strength and stamina are unmatched. I’ll be very impressed if any of you survive.”
Spinner looks worried. You’re worried, too. Tomura isn’t. “Thanks for the tutorial,” he says to the doctor. You’re last in line to collect your earpiece, and you tuck it into your ear. “Send us back. I feel motivated all of a sudden.”
The doctor signals something – another tiny Nomu – and black sludge begins to erupt from the others’ mouths. The others’ mouths, but not yours. You look to Tomura, a surge of panic rising within you, and Tomura reaches out, his fingers closing on your sleeve for a split second before the warp tears him away. He’s gone. They’re all gone, and you’re alone in here. With the bodies floating in the glass capsules and the two tiny Nomus and the doctor.
You have the knife Spinner gave you strapped to your back, concealed with your backpack, but you don’t know the doctor’s quirk, and you still can’t fight. The only way out of here is if the doctor decides to let you go. “Sir, please –”
“Manners for me, too? I’m glad to see that someone in Shigaraki’s gang of misfits respects common courtesy.” The doctor smiles. It’s not quite a leer, but it’s enough to make your skin crawl. “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll send you back to your master in short order. I just need to run some tests.”
“Tests?” you say uncertainly. “What kind of tests?”
“Nothing too painful, or too invasive.” The doctor beckons you closer, and you take a few hesitant steps. You don’t want him to get mad at you. This, whatever it is, will be worse if he’s angry. “All For One had a hunch when he met you, and I’d like to confirm it. You want to be as useful to your master as possible, don’t you?”
You don’t like that he keeps calling Tenko your master, but you do want to be as useful as possible. You nod. “Excellent. Hold out your hand,” the doctor says. You do, at which point he jabs a needle attached to an electrode into the meat of your palm. You yelp in pain. “Oh, hush. Has anyone explained the theory of quirk latency to you?”
Even with your palm stinging, even in fear for your life, you can’t help rolling your eyes. “Yes.”
“And you seem not to set much store by it.”
“It’s a lie,” you say. “Something they tell quirkless children so we’ll stay hopeful instead of recognizing how the world really sees us.”
“Explain it for me.”
The needle in your palm is buzzing. It feels like there are insects crawling beneath your skin. “Quirk latency theory suggests that the majority of people who appear to be quirkless are not. Instead, they possess latent quirks – quirks that don’t manifest for the first time unless certain conditions are met, and if those conditions are never met, the person in question appears to be quirkless for their entire life.”
The doctor yanks the sensor out of your palm. “Give an example.”
“If someone’s quirk is driving stick-shift perfectly,” you say. It’s the example you heard in school. It was stupid then and it’s stupid now. “It’ll never show up if they never get behind the wheel of a stick-shift car.”
“Sounds plausible, doesn’t it?”
“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter,” you say. The doctor wraps a blood pressure cuff around your arm. At least, it looks like a blood pressure cuff – when it constricts, it jabs dozens of needles into your bicep, and you whimper in pain. You can slice into your skin without blinking, but it’s different when someone else is in control. “If it never manifests and you never know what it is, it’s the same as not having one at all.”
“Mm. I suppose.” The blood pressure cuff squeezes your arm agonizingly tight, then beeps and releases. The doctor peels it away. “Your decision to release the girl, while frustrating on a professional level, was the correct decision with regard to Shigaraki’s survival. Lift the veil.”
“Sir –”
“I know your face already. Lift it.”
You raise the edge and flip it back, at which point the doctor stuffs a thermometer into your mouth. That one doesn’t stab you, but he jabs a needle into your lower lip a second later. A mask lowers over your eyes, ringed in tiny needles just like the cuff, and all the needles deliver a low, buzzing shock. The thermometer in your mouth beeps, but the doctor doesn’t remove it. “It’s intriguing that Shigaraki selected you, of all people, to serve as his sidekick – but far more intriguing is the fact that you accepted the role. All For One had charisma. The strength of his character drew others to him, and his wealth and benevolence certainly didn’t hurt. Shigaraki Tomura possesses nothing of the kind. How on earth did he entice a civilian away from what for all intents and purposes appeared to be a relatively normal, happy life?”
Not by being Shigaraki Tomura – and not just by being Shimura Tenko. You call him different names depending on who you’re with, but he’s the same person, the same man, regardless of whether you use the name given to him by his master or his father. The thermometer in your mouth beeps sharply, and the doctor extracts it in a hurry, followed by the needle in your lip. Then he lifts the eye mask away. Next he slaps electrodes onto your temples, the sides of your neck, your forehead, your chest – the same microneedles, the same electric shocks. You clench your jaw against the pain. You’re not going to make another sound.
Why are you letting this happen? The same reason you let Overhaul touch you, the same reason you didn’t give in to panic when All For One’s hand descended over your face. You’re doing it for Tenko, so you can stay with Tenko, so no one will try to take you away from him or take him away from you. When you think of it like that, it’s – not easy to survive, exactly. But it’s easier. Easy enough that the chorus of stings and shocks from the last set of electrodes don’t visibly break your composure.
It’s only once you’re free of electrodes and needles that you remember you were asked a question – and that you don’t remember what it was. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your question. Would you mind repeating it?”
“Don’t worry. You’ve answered it,” the doctor says. “And All For One’s hunch about you was correct. You’re a victim of quirk latency. You are not quirkless.”
You look blankly at him. Your skin is stinging in a dozen places, and there’s an unpleasant buzz in your nerves. “The tests I just conducted were tests of the most common locations of quirk factors,” the doctor says. “The hands, the eyes, the mouth and nose – when receiving certain types of stimulation, quirk factors produce an abnormal response. I was unable to identify a discrete quirk factor for you, which indicates that your quirk is not vulnerable to external attack. Overhaul, Shigaraki, Compress – remove their hands, and they’re useless. Your quirk factor, however, can’t be separated from your body so easily.”
He's looking at you, clearly pleased with himself, clearly waiting for you to respond in kind. “I don’t have a quirk,” you say. Your instruments are wrong.”
“My instruments are never wrong,” the doctor says. “Neither is All For One. You have a quirk, my dear. It’s latent, and without a discrete quirk factor, we have few clues as to what it might be, but make no mistake, a quirk is present. You said you wish to be as useful to Shigaraki as possible. Imagine how much more useful you’d be with your quirk.”
“I don’t have a quirk.” You know you shouldn’t argue, that you should pretend to be happy or at least let it go, but you can’t. You’re quirkless. That’s it. That’s all you’ll ever be. “If I had an actual quirk factor, maybe I’d believe you. But those abnormal reactions – you jabbed needles into my face and shocked me. Of course my system acted up.”
“Your system reacted normally to the electric current. What indicated the presence of a quirk factor was something else. Don’t question me, my dear. This is my area of expertise.” The doctor’s smile is horrendously smug. “I’m tempted to keep you here, and send you back to Shigaraki once we’ve awakened your quirk –”
“No!”
You clamp your hands over your mouth too late to silence yourself, and the doctor continues speaking like you didn’t say a word. “But I’d prefer that Shigaraki stays focused on mastering Gigantomachia, rather than hunting me down to retrieve his favorite toy. I’ll send you back, but well away from the battlefield. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you before we’ve discovered your quirk.”
You know better by now than to argue about whether you have a quirk or not. You nod mutely, and since you have your mouth shut, the black sludge oozes from your nose instead. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the taste and the sensation to fade, and when you open y our eyes again, you’re on a wooded hillside somewhere in the middle of nowhere. There are clouds of dust rising in the distance, and in the midst of them, you can see Gigantomachia’s silhouette. Tenko’s already fighting him.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you take it out. Twice has been messaging you. A lot.
Twice: Saintess
Twice: hey Saintess
Twice: are y coming back or what
Twice: I k already had to make ten clones of Shigaraki to go get smashed because the real one can’t focus long enough to fight the big guy
Twice: sorry TWELVE clones
Twice: i won’t make any more fart jokes if you come back right now
Twice: WHERE R U HES GOING BERSERK
Damn it. You call Twice, praying he’s not up close and personal with Gigantomachia right now, and he picks up on the first ring. It’s colossally noisy on his end of the line and you find yourself having to shout. “Hey! Tell Tomura I’m fine and tell him to get his head back in the game!”
“Hey, you’re back! What took you so long? I – hey, boss, you might want to get back out there –”
“Make another clone,” Tomura snarls, and a moment later you hear his ragged breathing on the line. “What happened? Where are you?”
“I’m fine. He just wanted to talk. I’ll tell you about it the next time we have a second.” You speak quickly, calmly, even though the sound of Tomura’s voice and the fact that he’s worried about you are this close to making you burst into tears. “He dropped me off away from the battle so I wouldn’t get trampled. I’ll make my way back. Just focus.”
“Drop a pin. Spinner and Toga will come get you.” Tomura swears into the phone a moment later. “It’s not fucking fine. He can’t just –”
“Just focus,” you say again. “We’ll talk. Be careful.”
“I love you.”
Your heart twists. “Be careful,” you say again, and you hang up the phone.
You drop the pin as requested, then use your phone camera to check out the damage the doctor’s tests did. It doesn’t look good. Your lower lip is swollen, and you’ve got a rash around your eyes and your forehead and your neck — everywhere a microneedle went in. Your eyes are puffy, maybe from the needles, maybe from wanting to cry this much and holding it in. But maybe you shouldn’t hold it in. You’ve got some time before Spinner and Toga get to you. Maybe you should just get it out of your system. You sit down on a rock, bury your face in your hands, and cry, but the longer you cry, the worse it gets. A quirk. The doctor says you have a stupid quirk, and your whole life –
You can’t think about it. You can’t stop. You have to stop right now before anybody sees, and with no one else to turn to, you find yourself turning to a coping mechanism you thought you gave up on. It was nice of Spinner to give you the knife. You know for a fact you weren’t supposed to use it for this.
But it works. You wouldn’t do it if it didn’t, and by the time Spinner and Toga come to get you, you’re neatly bandaged under your shirt and sitting behind your veil with dry eyes. “Where have you been?” Toga asks. “Tomura-kun was really upset.”
“The doctor and I needed to talk about something. It’s all okay now.” Your voice sounds perfectly steady, and you’re perfectly calm. The doctor is wrong. You don’t have a quirk. You’ve never had a quirk, and since you’ve never had a quirk, your entire life hasn’t been built around dealing with something that was never even true. “How’s Tomura?”
“If we didn’t have Twice, we’d be screwed,” Spinner says. He looks grim. “Let’s go. Somebody’s probably going to be hurt by the time we get there.”
“What did the doctor want to talk to you about?” Toga asks as the three of you hike through the woods. “Something fun?”
“Not really.” You shrug. “He just wanted to give me a hard time about letting Eri go.”
It’s a safe lie, you think. One the others will buy, if Toga’s reminiscing about how cute Eri is are anything to go by. The real question will be if you can sell that same lie to Tenko. You think you probably can. You’ve lied to him directly before. And you’ve lied by omission, every time he tells you he loves you and you don’t say it back.
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emotionalcadaver · 1 day
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Part 21: The Shadow of the Abattoir
Fandom: Peaky Blinders
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC
Summary: Lucy decides that she and Lizzie need to talk.
Word Count: 5,007
Notes: Warnings for depictions of violence, choking (not the fun kind), pregnancy, and references to abortion.
Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter
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Chapter 20: The Moment of Catastrophe
“I need to talk to Lizzie.” She was standing in front of Tommy’s desk, eyes downcast and fingers picking at one of the little wood carvings of a horse she’d made for him. Tommy’s eyes snapped up to hers from where they had been focused on the papers she’d just deposited in front of him, capping his pen and straightening up.
“You don’t have to–”
“I sort of do. If I’m going to remain involved in all of this.” Involved with you, she added silently. “And it’s killing me not knowing what her actual feelings or intentions regarding me are.”
Tommy frowned, eyes wary. Lucy was pretty sure that the main reason why he hadn’t encouraged a sit-down between the three of them already was because he was worried about what Lizzie might say to her. 
“I’ll go with you.”
But Lucy shook her head. “I think it would be better if she and I talked alone first, actually.”
His frown deepened. “If I’m there, I can act as a buffer if she starts getting unpleasant…”
“Exactly. I need to know how she really feels, Tommy.” Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, well aware that she might be willingly walking into a lion’s den with the full expectation of getting mauled. But she couldn’t keep living in this limbo of sitting around, wondering what Lizzie really thought of her. Of what her intentions were. Everything that her mind kept coming up was horrible. At least this way, she would know for sure and could adjust accordingly. “We’re both adults. We can sit down and have a mature conversation.”
“You might be able to,” Tommy muttered. Lucy gave him a look that was intended to be stern, but failed miserably at hiding the fond amusement underneath.
“Don’t be mean.”
Tommy sighed, thumbs twiddling together before he stood, stepping around the desk to get to her. His large hands smoothed up and down her arms reassuringly. 
“Don’t let her bully you. If she starts being nasty, just leave.”
Lucy nodded. “I’ll walk over to her house after running some errands. I’ll be back before lunch.”
He touched her face, thumb running across her cheek before kissing her, then pulling her into a hug. “I love you.”
Looping her arms around his middle, she squeezed him back, letting her head nestle against his chest. “I love you too. I’ll be back soon.”
He kissed her again before letting her go, hands stuffed into his pockets and watching her grab her coat and go to the door. She offered him what she hoped to be a reassuring smile before stepping out, pulling her cap onto her head. 
The errands she needed to run seemed to pass incredibly quickly, but the walk to Lizzie’s felt as though it took an eternity. It was in a neighborhood similar to where Polly lived, on the outskirts of the city. As she walked, she smoked cigarette after cigarette, anxiety settling like rocks in her stomach. 
She had not been wholly honest about her reasoning for coming to speak with Lizzie. Yes, she did need desperately to know where Lizzie stood on everything–where she stood on her–but that wasn’t all. She supposed that a part of her almost wanted Lizzie to yell at her. To throw things at her head. To tell her that she was a selfish monster for still clinging to Tommy when she knew that if she were gone he and Lizzie could have a chance to actually build something together with their baby. 
Her own mind had been relentlessly pummeling her with those thoughts since Tommy had told her the news; might as well let the person she was actually hurting have a chance to hurl them at her herself. 
Of course there was the other part of her that clung to a small sliver of hope that it wouldn’t be that bad. That Lizzie could actually make peace with their current arrangement. Maybe even be happy to have Lucy around. 
Wishful thinking, that was. Especially that last bit. 
When Lizzie’s house came into view, her hands started to tremble, and she immediately regretted not taking Tommy up on his offer to come with her. He was more or less the only reason she’d managed not to entirely fall apart, or pack up her things and disappear into the night without a word. Without his stabilizing presence beside her, she felt terrifyingly adrift and at the mercy of her own treacherous, tortuous mind.
Her boots clomped against the stone steps, shaking fingers drawing into a fist that she tapped against the wood in a few quick raps. Stuffing her hands into her pockets in an attempt to hide their trembling, she glanced around while she waited, eyes landing on the man kneeling next to a flower bed by the steps leading to the front door. A pair of dirt-lathered gardener’s gloves covered his hands, a spade, trowel, and weeder laid out next to him on the grass. He had a hat pulled over a shaved head. His face was weathered and wrinkled with age, but there was something familiar there that she could not quite place. For a second, their eyes met, and then his gaze immediately dropped back down to the dirt in front of him, working to dig a weed out of the flowerbed. Before Lucy could scrutinize him more, the door opened.   
“Lucy.” Never before had Lizzie’s height seemed so intimidating. Her eyes were cold, jaw set.  
“Hi.” Her smile came out as more of a grimace, fingers coming together unconsciously to play with her rings. Lizzie just stared at her, expression unmovable and chilly as a glacier, mouth pressed into a firm line. Lucy forced her hands to separate, though her fingers still twitched anxiously at her sides, eyes darting around the street. “Can we talk?” 
Lizzie looked as if she found the suggestion just about as desirable as drinking spoiled milk, but after a moment of consideration sighed, and pushed the door open the rest of the way so that Lucy could come inside. 
Lizzie had clearly been hard at work decorating and furnishing the house, rugs already lining the floors, the sitting room adorned with plush couches, chairs, and carved wooden tables. Picture frames were hung up on the walls, little bits and bobs purposefully positioned on the mantle above the fireplace. 
Lizzie shut the door behind her, shoes clicking against the floorboards as she strode past her and into the sitting room. 
“What do you want?”
Off to a great start, then, Lucy thought dejectedly. “I just…thought that we should talk about…things. Just you and me.”
“I’m not getting rid of the baby,” Lizzie said immediately, head tilted up stubbornly, defensiveness straining her voice. “So if that’s what you’ve come to discuss, you might as well leave–”
“That’s not why I’m here.” She tried hard to temper her hurt that Lizzie really thought she’d come all this way just to twist her arm into getting an abortion even if she didn’t want to.
Before either of them could say anymore, there was a knock at the door. 
“For Christ’s sake,” Lizzie growled, stomping past Lucy back to the door and wrenching it open. “What?”
“Begging your pardon, Miss. Stark, but could I use your phone for a moment?” the gardener was standing there, mopping at his brow and ringing his dirty gloves in his hands. “I’d like to ring my wife to let her know I may be a little late getting home this evening.”
“Yes, yes,” Lizzie stepped aside, pointing towards the entryway to the kitchen. “It’s in the back.”
Lucy waited until he had wandered into the other room and she could hear the distant, incomprehensible hum of his voice on the phone before speaking again. “The house looks nice.”
Lizzie smirked. “Tommy paid for it.”
“I know.”
Her smile dropped, and Lucy shifted from foot to foot, aware that she was doing little to help in the mending of things between them. “Can we sit?” she asked, nodding to the couch in the sitting room. Lizzie looked like she’d rather do just about anything else, standing there with her arms crossed over her chest, lips rubbing together. But finally she sighed, arms dropping to her sides. 
“Sure.”
She followed Lizzie’s lead over to the dark green sofa, sinking down into the cushions on the opposite side from her, ample space left between them. Lucy’s hands rang together, unable to stop her fingers from fumbling with her rings. Lizzie’s expectant expression only served to make her more nervous, bubbles of anxiety lodging into her throat and making it hard for her to recall the words she’d been practicing over and over in her head on the walk over there.  
“Right. Look, I just thought…given that we’re going to be…I mean, I just wanted to tell you that, um…now that you’re having Tommy’s baby…I–”
“For fuck’s sake, will you just spit it out?”
She flinched, feeling her shoulders draw in at the way Lizzie snapped at her. Being yelled at or spoken to harshly wasn’t exactly new to her, but there was something about the impatience in Lizzie’s tone that made her feel like a young child being scolded. As if she wasn’t already doing enough damage, here she was, coming into this poor woman’s home and annoying her with nonsensical ramblings. 
Before she could stutter some more and continue to make a complete fool of herself, there was the sound of footsteps approaching from the kitchen. The gardener appeared, pulling his cap on over his bald head, giving a respectful nod to Lizzie.
“Thank you for letting me use your phone, Miss. Stark. I’ll be heading back outside, now.”
“Of course. If you need any water or anything, help yourself,” she waved a hand towards the sink and pantry in the kitchen. The gardener nodded, his eyes tracking to Lucy before quickly looking away, shuffling towards the door. They both waited until it had swung closed behind him before saying anything. 
“Look,” Lucy took a deep breath, managing to pull herself somewhat together. “I just…wanted you to know that I don’t have any intentions of coming between Tommy and the baby. And I wanted to tell you that–only if you’re comfortable with it, of course–but I’m happy to help in any way that I can.” She forced herself to meet Lizzie’s eyes. Her face was still set in a harsh frown, but some of the coldness had seeped out of her eyes before she looked down at her hands, folded carefully in her lap. “I know how Tommy can be sometimes,” Lucy continued, still keeping her gaze on Lizzie despite the other woman still staring downwards. “So if you ever…if you and the baby aren’t getting what you need from him, you’re always welcome to come to me instead. Sometimes I can be a little more successful in convincing him of things.”
Lizzie’s gaze lifted to meet hers, any warmth that had started to seep into her eyes gone, leaving nothing but cold steel in its wake. 
“If you really wanted to help, you would leave Tommy and never come back.”
Lucy’s lips parted, shrinking in on herself subconsciously. The words were hurled at her like a rock, and ready as she thought that she was to hear them, they still pierced painfully in her chest. Now it was her turn to look down, staring at the plain golden rings that encircled her fingers. She made no attempt to defend herself. No effort to argue against Lizzie’s demand. This was why she was here, right? To let Lizzie punish her for the selfish choice to still stay with Tommy. To keep him from truly having a proper family with Lizzie.
And Lizzie was correct, of course. Leaving would be the right thing to do. The less selfish action. Hell, if she left right now, she could head over to the house, pack up her things, and be on a train out of the city before the sun had even set. Yes, Tommy may be sad, at least at first. But he would get over it. With Lizzie by his side, it wouldn’t be long before he would forget that Lucy had ever even existed in the first place. 
Lucy wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could somehow hug the horrid thoughts out of her. No, no. That wasn’t true; Tommy would be distraught if she left. He wouldn’t just get over it. He loved her. He didn't want to be with Lizzie. He said…
But that one cursed phase continued to spin in her head, repeating over and over again:
But maybe if I wasn’t here…
Beside her on the couch, Lizzie shuddered, turning away, knuckles pressed to her lips, twitching and fidgeting. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” She said finally, and before Lucy could respond, she launched up out of her seat, starting to pace across the room. “It's just so unfair. I’m having his baby, and he won’t even consider…” she trailed off, shooting Lucy an ashamed look. All the venom and iciness that had been in her eyes a moment ago was gone, and for a moment, Lucy felt as though she were staring into a mirror of her own guilt and pain. Lizzie wetted her lips, shoulders lowering. “When Polly told me I was pregnant, I started to hope,” she said, finally, as if trying to offer some sort of explanation. 
“Lizzie…” Lucy started sympathetically. Her hand rested on the cushion beside her in silent invitation, and after a moment of looking her up and down warily, Lizzie shuffled back over and plopped down beside her. “You can’t force someone to love you,” Lucy said after a long pause during which she internally debated whether or not to actually speak the words. But the venom of jealousy did not return to Lizzie's face. Instead she just merely looked to the floor, expression crestfallen in a way that made Lucy’s heart hurt. 
Guilt gnawed at her like a dog with a bone, chipping away at her bit by bit. The irrational part of her still blamed herself. Still battered her with endless internal torment. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to shove away the continued mantra of: But maybe if I wasn’t here…But maybe if I wasn’t here…But maybe if I wasn’t here…
“Even if I didn’t exist, or was wiped off the face of the earth at this very second, it still might not change the way that he feels. I’m not saying that to be cruel.” Reaching out, tentatively, like she would a skittish horse, she settled her hand on top of Lizzie’s where it rested on the firm green cushion between them. “I’m saying it because if you’re only having this baby as some…attempt to force Tommy to fall in love with you, you might not get what you want. And that wouldn’t be fair to the baby. Or you. Or Tommy. But, if you do genuinely want the baby…”
“I do,” Lizzie nodded vigorously, the hand not covered by Lucy’s going to press against her still flat stomach, and Lucy could see the genuine love that crossed her face. Lizzie had always liked children. She’d always been incredibly good with Charlie, and often at family gatherings she would take time to sit and play with John’s kids.
“Okay,” Lucy said. “Then we’ll figure out some way to make this all work. I know that Tommy is dedicated to supporting both of you, and will want to be involved in their life as much as he can. And I…” it felt impossibly selfish for her to ask what she was about to, but she forced herself to ask anyway. The worst that Lizzie could say was no, after all. “I’d like to be involved too, at least just a little. But I can understand if you don’t want that and I can keep my distance, if you’d rather. I don’t have any intentions of trying to…take away or usurp your position as the baby’s mother. I just want to help.”      
Lizzie’s head tilted slightly, considering with her eyes focused faraway on the opposite wall. “I suppose…I suppose that would be fine. Tommy will insist on you being around anyway.”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to include me if you’d really rather not,” it would hurt. A lot. But she didn’t want to force Lizzie into anything, either. “It’s your choice who helps you to raise your baby.”
“Yes, but it’s his too, isn’t it? He’ll want you included,” she shrugged. “I suppose that I could use as much help as I can get.” She finally looked back at Lucy. “And you’ve always been so good with Charlie.”
It was Lucy’s turn to look away then, bashfully staring down at her shoes. Beside her, Lizzie shifted, and when she spoke again, some of the bitterness had returned to her voice. 
“He loves you so much.”
Lucy felt her brows pull together slightly, her guard, that she’d dropped as Lizzie’s iciness had thawed, cautiously starting to raise back up. When she lifted her head, Lizzie was looking away from her again. 
“I suggested that he split up with you, did you know that? When I told him about the baby. And he wouldn’t even consider it. Not even for a second.” Her gaze shifted back to Lucy. “It’s hard not to hate you for that.”
Lucy pulled her hands back, settling them in her lap so that she could unconsciously fiddle with her rings again. “I’m sorry–”   
“No; don’t apologize. It’s,” Lizzie squeezed her eyes shut. “It’s not your fault,” she opened them again. “It’s my problem. And I am trying not to hold it against you. I promise I am.” She gave her a small, humorless smile. “I was doing pretty well at it until that day by the canal.”
“It was so selfish of us to take you down there. I’m sorry. We weren’t thinking.”
“Neither was I.”
Lucy nodded, fingers flexing. “I mean it, you know. Tell me if there’s anything that you need from either of us, and I’ll do what I can,” her shoulders raised in a tiny shrug. “The three of us are in this together, now.”
“Thank you.” Lizzie murmured. “I appreciate that. Really. It’s just so,” she hesitated, searching for the word, and finally simply settled on, “hard.”
Lucy nodded. Outside, she could hear the sounds of cars. “It’s difficult for me too.”
Lizzie shot her a quizzical look, and Lucy squirmed in her seat uncomfortably. 
“I can’t have children,” she explained in a soft voice, hoping that would be enough clarification as to what she meant. Lizzie’s eyes widened. 
“Really?”
Lucy nodded. Lizzie’s brows pinched, pale hand reaching out to rest her long fingers on her knee. 
“I’m sorry.”
Lucy just shrugged. “I’ve mostly made peace with it, I think.”
“I always wondered why you and Tommy didn’t have any of your own.”
“Yeah, well, that’s why.” It certainly wasn’t for lack of trying. She had made a half joke, many years ago, that if there was a way for her to get pregnant, Tommy surely would have figured it out by now.  
She looked back at Lizzie. I suppose we both have something that the other wants, then.
The clock on the wall chimed, and when she looked in its direction, it was to find that far more time had passed while talking to Lizzie than she’d thought. 
“I, um, I should get going. I promised Tommy I would be back at the office before lunch.”
“Right,” Lizzie withdrew her hand from her knee and sighed. “I don’t suppose you have any idea when this mess with the Italians will all be over, do you?”
“Soon, I think.” I hope, she corrected. 
“Have you beheaded any more Italians lately?”
Lucy felt a tiny smile prick at the edges of her lips. “Not yet.”
One side of Lizzie’s lips quirked upwards. “Personal feelings about you aside, I am glad that my baby will have you to be there for them.”
A rush of emotion washed over Lucy at that, looking away with a small smile as they both stood. Fumbling with her rings one last time before letting her hands drop to her sides, she raised her head to look up at Lizzie. “Thank you for letting me be involved. Really. It means a lot.” 
Lizzie nodded, and walked her to the door. 
“I’ll talk to you later?” Lucy asked, a teeny, tiny bead of hope, that maybe the friendship they’d been on their way to building before this whole mess had blown up in their faces could be salvaged, had begun to bloom despite her attempts to temper it. 
“Yeah,” Lizzie nodded. “Take care of yourself.”
“You too.” Pulling her cap out of her pocket, she reached for the door handle and twisted it open. 
She barely had time to process the towering, dark suit-clad figure standing on the other side of it, or the cocked hat on his head and the toothpick wedged between his teeth, before a hand, fingers adorned with rings, crashed in a vicious backhand across her face. The side of her head slammed hard into the doorframe, and she went sprawling to the ground, dazed, black spots appearing across her vision. Somewhere behind her, she heard Lizzie scream. 
She hardly was able to make out the figure of Luca Changretta, still looming over her in the doorway, before his booted foot swung into her face, and everything went dark. 
∗ ∗ ∗
Lizzie braced a hand on the wall of the narrow hallway leading from the front door into the sitting room, staring in open-mounted horror at where Lucy lay in a crumpled, unmoving heap in the entryway. Luca stared down at the little redhead for a moment, checking to make sure that she was truly unconscious, before he lifted his head, and met Lizzie’s eyes with a huge, face splitting grin. 
“Hello, Lizzie.” 
There were three men crowded in behind him, and behind his elbow, she spotted the face of her gardener peering in at her. 
The phone call. She only vaguely could recall him coming in, the hum of his voice from the kitchen while she was busy with Lucy in the sitting room. Oh, God… 
Staggering back a few steps, she turned to run towards the backdoor, but only got so far as the sitting room before skidding to a halt at the crunch of wood splintering as the door was kicked in, two Italians shouldering past the wrecked wood to block her way out. 
“Get that to the car,” Luca snapped his fingers, nodding at Lucy. “And don’t forget to bind her hands and feet. I want one of you watching her at all times in case she wakes up.” 
“No–” Lizzie took a step forward, as if there was anything she could possibly do to stop them. Luca’s gaze shot back up to her, and with another grin, he stepped over Lucy while the men behind him grabbed her by the shoulders and started to drag her away.
“How lucky for you that she was the one who opened the door,” he started conversationally. Lizzie’s hands were shaking, her knees unsteady. Luca took an advancing step closer, fully entering the sitting room, and Lizzie took another back in response, keeping ample space between. Luca seemed unbothered by the action. 
“It’s nice to finally make your acquaintance. My brother was so taken with you, he wrote about you often enough in his letters to me, I feel like I almost know you myself.” The sparkle of taunting glee was still in his eyes, but underneath, Lizzie saw fiery rage. “You do remember my little brother, don’t you, Lizzie?” 
The mention of Angel was enough to make her stomach turn with guilt. Poor, poor Angel. She’d been trying to get over Tommy, since at the time he’d been engaged to Grace and happy with his newborn boy. And Angel had been there, this sweet Italian boy who doted on her, and who she had genuinely thought that she’d started to love. 
But not enough. Not enough for her to quit her job with the Shelbys so that they could be together. Not enough to keep her from breaking up with him when tensions rose between the two families. Not enough for her to mourn all that long after John and Arthur slit his throat. Not enough for her to stop working for his killers. Not enough to say no when Tommy and Lucy had started coming to her again for sex. 
“Yes. Yes, of course I remember Angel. I’m so sorry about what happened–”
Luca continued to grin, but his eyes were deep dark pits of hate. “And yet, you’ve had no problem running around with the men who killed him.” He took another step closer. 
She was shaking like a leaf and didn’t know how to stop. Tears started to roll down her cheeks. “I’m sorry–” she tried again.
Like a jaguar, Luca suddenly lunged at her with inhuman speed. His hand latched onto her throat, her back slamming into the wall hard enough to knock the wind from her lungs, and immediate panic zigzagged through her. 
No, no, not my baby. Please don’t hurt my baby.
“I don’t want to hear your fucking apologies!” he roared in her face, hot breath fanning across her cheeks. “I want my fucking family back!”
“Please,” she managed to catch her breath enough to be able to speak, but his hand was tight enough around her throat that it made drawing in air difficult. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“Mr. Changretta.” It was her gardener, hovering by the sofa, clutching his dirty gloves. Luca growled in annoyance, fingers flexing against Lizzie’s throat. 
“Matteo, get this man paid and out of here–”
“Mr. Changretta, she’s pregnant,” the gardener interpreted. “I heard Winters say something about it.”
Luca froze, his eyes shifting back to Lizzie, like a shark that had just caught the scent of blood in the water. His jaw twitched, teeth grinding together. She could see something click behind his eyes, and her terror tripled. 
“Whose?” he asked, grip tightening around her neck. If she made it out of this alive, she would for certain have bruises all up and down the column of her pale throat. 
“Please…” she sobbed. 
“Tommy Shelby bought you this fucking house…” Luca’s eyes swept across the sitting room. “Despite you recently leaving his employment.”
“I’m sorry–”
“Is it his!?”
He’s going to kill me, she thought, panic intensifying. “Yes,” she whispered, tears still rolling down her cheeks.
Luca laughed, and it was the worst sound Lizzie had ever heard. “Well, well. How nice that is for you. Congratulations,” his words dripped with sarcasm and venom. “Still a whore, I see. No matter what you prefer to fancy yourself as these days.” He looked over his shoulder, towards the front door where his men had taken Lucy out to where Lizzie had to presume the car was. His face swung back around to hers. “Does Winters know? Is that why she came here?”
Lizzie just whimpered, pressing her lips together. His fingers were digging so hard against her windpipe that she doubted she could have spoken if she’d wanted to. Luca’s face contracted, smile dropping way to a look of pure hatred, his hands squeezed hard enough to completely cut off any more oxygen, and Lizzie let out a soft choking sound. But a moment later, he let her go, and her head fell forward as she coughed and wheezed, lungs expanding as she hastily sucked in air. Luce seized her by the cheeks instead, tilting her head up until the back of her skull rested against the wall. 
“Hm…in light of this…new information, I’m going to change my plans for you. You see, I was planning to let my boys here,” he nodded to the men guarding the back exit, “smack you around a little. I would like to kill you for this. And maybe someday I will.” He leaned forward, until their noses were almost touching. “After Mr. Shelby is dead. Maybe I’ll kill you and your child. Maybe I’ll kill you and take the child into my family.” He shrugged. “I suppose that we’ll just have to wait and see.” 
Lizzie felt a burst of frantic protectiveness for the tiny life growing inside of her, manifesting itself in a ferocious glare that made Luca chuckle. 
“But not today. I made a deal, you see, with Mr. Shelby, not to harm any children. Vile as his spawn may be. Our people have traditions of honor. I’d hate for him to think that I’d gone back on my word.” His face retreated from hers, though his hand remained, squeezing crushingly at her cheeks, pushing her head painfully against the wall. “As for Miss. Winters, she’s coming with us. She and I have unfinished business. You can tell Tommy that we took her. Or not.”
Lizzie’s eyes widened at the suggestion; at the choice he was offering her. 
“The decision is yours. Either way,” Luca shrugged, “he won’t be able to find her until it’s too late.” He laughed. “Really, you should be thanking me. Seems like by getting rid of her, I may be solving a very irksome problem for you.”
When she said and did nothing, his smile fell, and he leaned in close again, speaking in a hoarse, hissing whisper.
“Remember, once all the Shelbys are gone, I’ll be coming for you.” His hand dropped suddenly away, her head falling forward and away from the wall in surprise at no longer having his palm holding her in place. 
“Please, don’t–” she started to beg. But Luca’s hand snapped forward, smashing the back of her head brutally against the wall, and the world fell away to blackness. 
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