#i think this is almost everything i have for this fic

[requiemforthepoets]

this is me trying 𖦹 OP81

PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader

SUMMARY: growing up, the only thing you know is that you need to be strong, provide, and take care of your sister. but being with oscar, it was different, he made you feel things—that it’s okay to not be fine, vulnerable, and to be taken care of.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have this fic finished the other day but i was debating on whether to post it or not, but here we are. it’s been a while too since i last wrote for oscar, and this is like a comfort (?) fic idk lol. also, can i just say that LANDO ON POLE FOR THE SG GP!!! 😭🧡 ok, i hope you guys will have fun reading this one. enjoy! :)

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, eldest daughter syndrome, no use of y/n, cursing, unnamed sister, named friend, and parents death

You were sitting in the living room, surrounded by case files and legal books, trying your best to prepare for the court trial that you’ll be doing soon, but your mind was elsewhere. You can't focus on the work that you’re working on in front of you, no matter how hard you try. Your phone buzzed, and you almost didn’t answer, thinking it’s just another work call, but when you saw Blaire, your friend’s name, flash on the screen you quickly picked up, expecting a casual chat.

“Hey, Blaire, how are you?” You greeted her, trying to mask your exhaustion.

Her voice on the other end was hesitant, not the usual warm tone that you’re used to. “Hey…I really hate to bring this up, but I was wondering when you would be able to repay the five thousand dollars?”

Your stomach dropped. “Repay?” You repeated, utterly confused. “What do you mean five thousand dollars?”

The conversation between you and Blaire unraveled quickly. She explained how she had lent the money to your sister out of need, thinking it was for you or with your approval. Rage bubbled in your chest, your pulse quickened, at this point all you can see is red. You thanked her hastily, barely able to end the call before fury overtook you. Without thinking, you dialed your sister’s number, the beeps echoing in your ear like a countdown to an explosion.

“Hello?” Her voice was casual, completely unaware of the storm coming her way.

“What the actual fuck did you do?!” You yelled, not caring if it was late at night. “You borrowed five fucking thousand dollars from Blaire without asking me!? How could you?!”

There was a pause, a brief moment where you could almost feel her shrug through the phone. “Oh my god, can you relax? It’s not like you can't afford it. It’s not that big of a deal, you can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making, it’s barely a scratch on your bank account!” You couldn’t believe what you were actually hearing.

“Not a big deal? Did you spend the money already? Do you have any fucking idea how humiliating it is for me that you did this without even consulting me? You think just because I make good money, I’ll fix every mess you create?” You were seething.

“Well, yeah,” she responded with a laugh, clearly not grasping the gravity of the situation. “You’re my older sister. Isn’t it your job to take care of me, right?”

Your grip on your phone tightened. “I’ve been taking care of you your whole life! I’m working myself to the bone just to make sure you have everything you need, sending you to that fancy school that you’ve always wanted so you can have a better future, and this is how you repay me? By lying and stealing?”

The silence on the other end of the line felt heavy, but your anger has not subsided. She mumbled something that sounded like a half assed apology, but it was already too late for that. You immediately hung up and slammed the phone down on the table, heart racing, pulse pounding in your ears. Anger still swirling inside you like a storm, the words of your sister still echoing in your mind. You can just easily pay for it with how big you’re making. Her carelessness, lack of respect—it hit harder than anything you had experienced before. It wasn’t about the money, you could handle the five thousand dollars easily, but the way she completely dismissed your hard work, as if it was nothing, as if your sacrifice and years of struggle meant nothing—that was what burned deep. It hurts like fucking hell.

You sat down there on the couch, trying to calm yourself down, tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back. You didn’t cry. You cannot cry. You have always been strong your whole life—the provider, carer, and protector. That’s who you were. No one had ever taken care of you, not since your parents passed away when you were fifteen and your sister is only ten. It has always been you, alone, against the world, and now, it felt like even your sister was against you.

You didn’t hear Oscar enter the living room until his voice, soft but firm, broke through the silence. “Hey, I heard you from our room. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, your body automatically stiffening instinctively and continued browsing through your documents like nothing happened.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry,” you lied, though the quiver in your voice betrayed you.

Oscar walked over and sat down beside you on the couch, his hand gently resting on your shoulder. “You don’t always have to be fine,” he said quietly. “Tell me, what happened?”

You exhaled sharply, your hands trembling as you ran them through your hair. “It’s my sister,” you muttered, trying to keep your voice steady. “She borrowed money from Blaire. Five thousand dollars. Without even telling me. Now, she’s acting like it’s my job to fix it.”

“Five thousand? That’s a lot.” Oscar frowned, his brows knitting in concern.

“I know,” you said, “she doesn’t even care. She just assumes I’ll take care of it, like I always do every time she gets into stupid situations. She thinks just because I earn good money, I’m supposed to fix everything.” Your voice cracked, and before you could stop it, the tears you had been holding back for so long finally broke free. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this, Oscar. I’m always the one fixing things, I’m always the one who has to be strong.”

Oscar didn’t say anything for a moment, he just stared at you, his eyes filled with understanding. Then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. You tensed at first, still not used to being vulnerable, but Oscar’s embrace was warm, grounding. Slowly, your body relaxed into his, and the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little as you rested your head against his chest.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered to him. “I’ve always had to be the strong one. I’m tired, Oscar. I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how much more I can take.”

His hand gently stroked your back, his voice soft and reassuring. “I know. It’s okay to be tired. You don’t have to be strong all the time. Not with me.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your eyes searching his face, “I just don’t know how to let anyone help me,” you admitted, voice barely audible. “I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t know how to not be the one in control.”

“I get that. But you don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’m here. Let me be strong for you, too.” Oscar smiled gently, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. The idea of letting someone else carry even a fraction of the weight feels completely foreign to you. But as you looked at Oscar, his eyes full of sincerity, something inside you shifted. Maybe, it’s time you let it all fall down, you didn’t have to carry everything on your shoulders all the time.

“What am I supposed to do about her?” You asked, your voice small but steady now.

Oscar sighed softly, thinking for a moment. “You have all the right to be angry and upset. Your feelings are valid,” he said. “She needs to learn that actions have consequences. But at the same time, she’s your sister. She’s young, and sometimes young people tend to make mistakes. You’ve been doing everything for so long that she probably hasn’t learned how to take responsibility for herself yet.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes. “Yeah, maybe. But I can’t just let her think she can keep doing this.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you also don’t have to do this alone. We can figure it out together.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. Maybe you didn’t always have to be the strong one, the provider, the protector. With Oscar by your side, you could learn how to let someone else carry the weight with you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, leaning into him once more. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Oscar smiled, pressing a soft tender kiss to your forehead. “You’ll never have to find out, I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

The next morning, you stared at the screen of your laptop, fingers moving quickly over the keys as you finished drafting the contract. The legal jargon was familiar, comforting even, but the fact that you had to use it against your own sister left a bitter taste in your mouth. The contract was firm, direct, and laid out the consequences clearly: five thousand dollars, to be repaid in installments, with interest and penalties if the deadline is missed. You hated doing it—your heart never felt so heavy—but you knew it was necessary. You had been too lenient for far too long, if she didn’t learn this now, she might never understand the true value of money and the responsibility that came with it. It was time for her to learn the hard truths you had known your entire life.

Oscar was sitting across the table, sipping his coffee, watching you in silence. “You’ve finished it?” He asked gently. You had told him last night that you need to straighten everything out, and told him your plan, in which he quickly supported you.

You nodded, eyes scanning the contract one last time before saving it. “Yeah. She’s not going to like it, but this has to be done.” You sighed, “I’ve been too lenient, too forgiving. I can’t keep cleaning up after her messes.”

“You’re doing the right thing.” He said as he reached over, placing his hand over yours. “It’s tough, but you’re teaching her a lesson she won’t forget.”

“I hope so,” you sighed, glancing out the window, the weight of responsibility pressing down on you once more. “I’ve never been one to ask for anything back, but she needs to learn that she can’t just treat me like this. I want her to be successful, but she can’t rely on me forever.”

Later that day, you booked a flight for her to Monaco, and notified her about the flight schedule. She was studying in Switzerland, and it would be a four hour flight from Switzerland to Monaco. It was time to have this conversation face-to-face. You couldn’t keep allowing her to avoid responsibility just because you were miles apart. This is a conversation that is long overdue.

A couple of days later, she arrived at your and Oscar’s shared apartment. She seemed different—more subdued, perhaps. You could tell the weight of your anger still lingered in her mind. She greeted you cautiously, her eyes flickering to Oscar, who stood nearby, his presence calm but protective.

“Sit down,” you said, pointing to the couch.

She looked at you, clearly trying to gauge your mood, but she did as she was told. You sat across from her, with Oscar by your side, and the freshly printed contract lying on the table between you. The tension in the living room was thick.

“I had already settled your debt with Blaire,” you began, your voice calm but firm. “But this conversation is not just about the money. It’s about respect, about responsibility.”

“I said I was sorry.” She crossed her arms, trying to play it cool.

“Sorry doesn’t fix this,” you snapped, your patience was already running thin, barely hanging on by a thread. “I have been providing for you because I want nothing but the best for you. But what you did was careless, and you disrespected everything I’ve done for you. You didn’t even ask me before borrowing that money, and then you just blatantly assumed I would handle it. You do this every time to me, you always get me into awkward and humiliating situations.”

She bit her lip, her attitude wavering. “I know, but you make so much—”

“That’s not the point!” You cut her off, about to lose your cool but Oscar had managed to calm you down by softly caressing your back. “Yes, I make good amount of money, but that money just doesn’t magically appear. I have worked hard, harder than you can imagine, to get to where I am. Do you want to know what’s worse? What’s worse is that you’re not even thinking about how hard it is to earn that money, how I burn myself off everyday. So I’m making you earn it back.” You slid the contract towards her.

“What’s this?” She looked down at it, then back at you, looking all confused.

“It’s an agreement,” you said. “I’ve decided to give you the five thousand dollars. Consider what you bought from that money as a gift, because I know you’ve been doing well in school, and it’s been a while since I’ve given you anything. But this will never happen again. You owe me that money, and you're going to pay it back. Every cent of it, with interest.” Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth to protest, but you cut her off before she could even speak.

“This is not negotiable. I’m still going to support you, I’m still going to pay for your tuition, but you need to learn how hard it is to earn this kind of money. You’re going to work for it, and I'll expect proof—payslips, records—everything. If you miss a payment, there will be penalties added, and if you refuse or try to make a fool out of me, I’m not afraid to take legal action.”

“You’d sue me? Your own sister?” She stared at you in disbelief.

“Yes, I would,” you said coldly. “I don’t want to, but you’ve left me with no choice. You are already eighteen and will turn nineteen in two months, you are already capable of knowing what’s right and wrong. You need to understand that I’m not going to bail you out every time you mess up, this is your responsibility now.”

For a long moment, she didn’t say anything. Her face was a mix of shock and anger, but you could tell the gravity of the situation was already starting to sink in.

“I’m not trying to be harsh,” you said softly, leaning forward. “But I’ve been in your shoes, and I know firsthand how hard life can be. I have shielded you from that, and maybe that was my mistake. But if you’re going to succeed in this world, you need to understand that nothing is free, nothing in life is free. Everything comes with a cost.”

Oscar then leaned forward, gently placing a hand on your shoulder. “Look, we’re not doing this to hurt you,” he added, tone gentle but firm. “But this is a wake-up call. You need to understand how your sister has worked so hard, and how important it is that you start contributing. No one’s saying you have to do it alone, but you have to start doing something.”

Your sister’s eyes shifted between the two of you, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of guilt in her expression. She glanced back down at the contract, and you handed her a pen.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll do it. I’ll pay you back.” Her attitude and defiance slowly faded from her face.

“Good.” You nodded, “then sign it.”

She hesitated for only a moment before scribbling her signature across the bottom of the contract. You felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness, knowing you had to be this tough, but also hoping it would be the turning point she needed.

“You can stay with us while you’re in Monaco,” you told her, “but I expect you to find a job as soon as possible. If you fail to keep up with your end of the deal, there will be consequences. Understood?”

“Understood.” She nodded, though her expression was still a mix of resentment and defeat.

You exhaled, feeling a small sense of relief wash over you. This wasn’t easy, and you hated having to be this strict with her, but it had to be done. Oscar wrapped his arm around you, his touch grounding as soon as you watched your sister head towards the guest room.

“You did the right thing,” he said quietly.

“I hope so,” you whispered, leaning into him. “I just want her to grow up.”

“Don’t worry, she will.” Oscar assured you, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. “With you as her sister, she doesn’t have much of a choice,”

Later that evening, the apartment finally fell quiet, dinner was definitely awkward and quiet, but with your sister already tucked away in the guest room, the weight of everything you had said and done began to settle in. You were sitting at the edge of the bed, heart heavy and mind replaying what had happened earlier over and over. The way your sister had looked at you—hurt and angry—it cut deeper that you were willing to admit.

You had always been strong, but this strength had come with a cost. Now, sitting in the stillness of the night, the reality of your actions hit you like a tidal wave. It wasn’t just the contract or the money, it was the fear—the fear that in trying to teach her a lesson, you might have pushed her too far. That in being the disciplinarian, you had damaged something that might never fully recover or heal.

Oscar entered the room quietly, sensing the shift in your mood. He sat beside you, his presence had always been comforting, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood of emotions you had been holding back.

“Was I too harsh, Osc?” You whispered, voice barely audible.

He frowned slightly, tilting his head to look at you. “No, you weren’t. She needed to hear all of it.”

“I know,” you replied, voice trembling. “But what if I lose her because of this? What if she hates me for it?”

You felt your tears welling up again, but this time you couldn’t stop them anymore. They spilled down your cheeks, unchecked, as you finally let go of the tension and frustration you had been carrying.

“I’m not being harsh to punish her, I just want her to understand how hard life is, how much I’ve sacrificed. But what if all she sees is me being cruel?”

Oscar pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as you broke down. You rested your head on his chest, sobs coming in waves, guilt and fear crashing over you. You had always been strong for so long—too long—and now, it felt like everything was unraveling.

“She’s my baby sister,” you choked out between sobs. “I don’t want to lose her. But I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want her to think I’m just some heartless person who only cares about money.”

Oscad held you tighter, his voice calm and steady as he spoke. “She won’t hate you. Not forever. She’s upset now, sure. But she’s young, and right now, she probably doesn’t understand why you’re doing this. But she will, trust me. One day, she’ll look back at it and realize that you did this because you love her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening with the weight of your emotions. “I feel like I’m always the one who has to be the bad guy. I never get to be the one who’s just there for her, to support her without judgment.”

Oscar stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “You’ve done more for her than anyone else ever could. You’ve given her everything. You’re not the bad guy, you’re her protector, even when it means being tough on her. Yeah, maybe this will cause a rift for now, but it won’t last. She’ll come around, she’ll see that you’re doing this because you care.”

You pulled away slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “What if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” Oscar said firmly. “But even if it takes time, you can’t keep beating yourself up for doing what’s right. You’re teaching her a lesson that no one else will. You’re giving her the tools to grow up, to be responsible. Sometimes, that means being tough. That’s tough love.”

You nodded, but the guilt still gnawed at you. “I just wish I didn’t have to be this person all the time. The one who fixes things, who keeps everyone in line.”

“I know. But you’re not doing this alone anymore, okay? I’m here. Whenever it feels like it’s too much, rest on me. You can always rest on me.”

You leaned into him again, his warmth easing the ache that you’re feeling inside of you. “I just hope she understands someday,” you whispered.

“She will,” Oscar said softly, kissing the top of your head. “And until then, you’ve done what you needed to do. You’ve set her on the right path, and that’s what matters.”

As the tears slowly subsided, you felt a flicker of hope, knowing that even though this was hard, it was necessary. Even if your sister doesn't see it now, you could only hope that one day, she would understand that everything you did was out of love.

The weight on your shoulders became a little lighter, knowing that Oscar was right. Even if it took time, even if there were still battles to fight, you knew you weren’t facing them alone anymore, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to breathe. You had done what needed to be done. Now it was up to your sister to follow through.

[anakinstwinklebunny]

NERD!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

TW: at some point it contains sexual content, so if you're sensitive to that or don't feel comfortable with it, please do not read it for your own safety and comfort.

Author's note: thinking about some nerd!anakin fic where he had heard the reader talk with her friends that she's not passing physics and since he has the biggest crush on her since second grade he later suggest to help her..if she'll help him with something else ;)

Nerd!Anakin who inside was a little dirty minded boy that wished nothing more to have a loving girlfriend to do with her all the cool, nice things he always wanted to do (and he meant more joyful activities than sex)

Nerd!Anakin who has a collection of technical manuals and scientific holobooks that he reads in his spare time. His nightstand is filled with them, and he gets excited when a new one comes out. He’ll stay up late, curled up on the couch, devouring a manual on hyperdrive mechanics or some obscure sci-fi novel, eyes glued to the hologram.

He also loves telling you all about the technical details of what he's learning. You may not always understand everything he’s talking about, but his excitement is so adorable that you just let him ramble on.

Nerd!Anakin who has a soft spot for droids, and he might even give them 'upgrades' just because he thinks they deserve a treat. “You’ve been working hard, buddy. How about a new power cell?”. He’ll talk to them while he works, explaining what he’s doing like they’re his assistants (his fav is R2D2 obviously)

Nerd!Anakin who gets ridiculously excited about the latest gadgets or tech upgrades. When something new comes out, he’s like a kid in a candy store. Whether it's a new holo-terminal, a high-speed pod engine - he’s always the first in line to get it. He’ll show it off to you, explaining every little detail with enthusiasm. “Look at this! It has a new feature that triples efficiency!” He gets that adorable spark in his eye, completely geeking out over the smallest improvements.

Nerd!Anakin who would love when you'd do your nails; he'd ask soon later (when you two are alone) if you could play with his hair to only feel you scratch very gently against his scalp

Nerd!Anakin who was a great whimpering mess whenever you touched him (poor guy had never felt woman's touch before);

a sharp gasp left his mouth as you touched the mushroomy tip of his member, his hips jerking towards you without thought. he was already embarrassingly close, and now your teasing was only driving him closer to the edge “please-“ he let out a pleading moan, the words barely leaving his dry mouth

"please what ani? Use your words like good boys do"

He tried to focus enough to form a coherent sentence but it was getting so hard when all his mind could focus on, was the way you made him feel “I’m close-“ he gasped out, his hips rocking frantically against your tightening fist “I’m so close baby, i need it” he let out a sobbing whimper

"can you hold it in a little?" you asked gently

he groaned at the question before nodding almost desperately “for you, anything” his glasses sliding down his nose

You only hummed, all proud of your actions. How easily you could tear him apart by your single touch. Using her free hand to move his glasses so they were a bit more comfortable on him. You increased your movements, making sure to

he could feel the heat in his abdomen tighten as your hand moved faster. he was struggling to keep himself together, not much to your surprise "oh-oh god-“ he let out a loud gasp and a groan as your thumb moved over his tip again, that little touch sending electricity up his spine “oh-fuck…” one hand digging into the couch for some kind of grip “I can’t hold it—please please please” tears of desperation and overwhelming began to prick at the corner of his eyes

Nerd!Anakin who when was nervous, draw circles and designs on the back of your hand to relax himself

Nerd!Anakin who did your own minifigure from Legos

Nerd!Anakin who always had perfectly ironed shirts

Nerd!Anakin who in general was perfectionist in everything he'd do. If he had a mess in his room, he couldn't focus normally. If just one thing was moved inches apart, it drove him wild

Nerd!Anakin who made cupcakes with his mother for you

Nerd!Anakin who's a true mommy's boy

Nerd!Anakin who teared up after you gave him his first blowjob. He felt so overstimulated when his thick member was hugged around your warm throat, your tongue working on his shaft..it was way too much for the first time, he'd gasp and ask you to slow down because if you wouldn't, you'd already have his cum dripping down your throat

Nerd!Anakin who gave you flowers - sometimes real one and sometimes he'd do them from origamy

Nerd!Anakin who has a little sketchbook where he draws schematics for future projects—droid designs, custom technology accessories, etc. He’s always thinking of new ways to improve things, and his sketches are filled with intricate details and notes.

Sometimes, he’ll show you a design he’s particularly proud of, grinning ear to ear as he explains how it works. “What do you think? Pretty sleek, huh?”

Nerd!Anakin who was a true worshipper of your body. Would press such gentle kisses all over your body as if you were a ceramic doll he was scared to break

Nerd!Anakin who's glasses got foggy everytime he made love to you, his curls sticking to his forehead and his pinky, swollen lips quivering to hold back his own orgasm

Nerd!Anakin who adored math and physics (but not as much as he adored you). And of course, he loved to help you with those subjects

Nerd!Anakin ho invited you to weekly movie marathon. With all the snacks ready and a fluffy blanket

Nerd!Anakin who adored to cuddle with you. It was something so precious for him, and whenever he had a chance, he'd just wrap his arms around your waist from behind and nuzzle to your soft neck

Nerd!Anakin who liked to play with your hair like brushing them out of your face, twirling the strand around his finger and watch intensively, as if it was the most important/gorgeous/captivating sight he had seen, how it hugged his finger so perfectly

Nerd!Anakin who had his 'sexual education' with you;

Anakin hesitantly reached out, his hand trembling as he lifted it towards your chest. He hesitates for a moment once more, not sure if he's ready to do that. He just felt so sinful watching you naked..but oh so good.. so, before the thoughts would envelope his entire mind, he gently cupped one of your round, full breasts. He instantly marveled at, not only the softeneness but the weight, the way it filled his palm, how it was so beautiful, seeing your raspberry ripple hidden thanks to his large hand made him feel so fuzzy all inside

As he squeezed the soft globe tentatively, feeling its weight sprawl all over his senses, he couldn't help but let out a low moan, his body responding to the newfound pleasure. Guilty feelings fade away, leaving him all needy for more of you. His fingertips graze over your nipple to harden it, eliciting a soft gasp from both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with wonder. "I-how i-" he stuttered shyly "-what should I do now?"

"whatever you want..you can kiss it, play with it, anything you want Annie"

Anakin's eyes widen at your words. To have the whole access to your body felt more pleasurable than anything in his life. He leaned in, pressing a soft, tentative kiss to the underside of your breast. You gazed down at how his glasses pressed against your skin, making your breath hitched. He then brought his hand up to gently squeeze and caress the soft mound at your left breast, almost nuzzling to the right one. He looked back up at you, seeking approval, as if not sure if he could go any further

"go on, they're all yours" you encouraged

Anakin smiles shyly at your encouragement, feeling emboldened. He starts to kiss and lick at your breasts, alternating between the two. He gently nibbles on your nipples, sucking on them and releasing them with soft popping sounds. "Ahh... they're so soft... and t-tasty..." he mumbled the last part more quietly, as if embarrassed that he actually thought about your breasts in that way

he accidentally uses a bit too much pressure with his teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. He immediately freezes, his eyes filled with worry. "I'm so sorry... did I hurt you?" His voice soft, laced with adorable concern.

"no--its okay..just try to use a little less teeth..and relax"

Anakin nods, his expression turning gentle again. He leans back in, this time more careful, his touch feather-light. He alternates between sucking and licking, paying close attention to the way you react to his touch. "Like this?" He asks softly, his voice muffled against your skin.

"just like that" you tugged on his curls

After the moaned sentence left your mouth, Anakin felt a surge of pride. He continues his gentle ministrations, his own body growing harder with each passing moment. He looks up at you,l with his eyes hooded. "Can I... can I kiss you lower now?"

Nerd!Anakin who was scared to eat you out at first, cause it'd be his very much first pussy. But when he did, he had no idea how to do it. He used his teeth a little too much, his tongue a bit too forceful but in time he got better

Nerd!Anakin who loves space documentaries. He'll make you sit with him on the couch to watch them, enthusiastically pointing out facts you didn’t even know he knew. He’s the type to lean over and say things like, “Did you know that this system’s star is actually binary? And it formed 4.6 billion years ago?”

Nerd!Anakin who uses cheesy, nerdy pick-up lines that leave you both laughing. He’s the kind of guy who would say, “Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you’re Cu-Te.” He says it with so much confidence that you can’t help but find it endearing.

When you tease him about it, he’ll get all flustered, scratching the back of his head with that sheepish grin. “I thought it was clever..and you'd like it, maybe give me a small kiss or something.."

Nerd!Anakin who is fiercely protective of his tech projects. If someone tries to mess with them or touch his tools without asking, he’ll get all defensive. “Hey, be careful with that! I’ve been working on this for weeks.”

But when it’s you? He lets you mess with his projects all you want, even if it makes him a bit nervous. He’ll give you a dorky smile and say, “Just don’t break it, okay?” But secretly, he loves sharing his passions with you.

Nerd!Anakin who, as smart as he is with machines, is absolutely terrible in the kitchen. He’ll try to make you dinner as a sweet surprise, but something always goes wrong—he burns the food, the recipe doesn’t turn out, or the kitchen ends up looking like a disaster zone.

He’ll stand there, looking embarrassed but hopeful, holding a burnt dish with a lopsided grin. “Uh, it’s a little... crispy..”

Nerd!Anakin who leaves you small, nerdy notes;

On a sticky note on your fridge

"You’re the binary star to my existence. Without you, my orbit is off. Also, I reprogrammed the toaster. You're welcome.”

In your notebook or planner

“If I could rewrite the laws of physics, I'd bend space-time just to spend an extra 5 minutes with you.”

"The only code I can’t crack? How you make my heart race this fast.

Tucked inside your favorite book

“You're like the perfect algorithm: complex, beautiful, and always leaving me wanting to solve the equation that is you.”

On your desk after a long day

“You must have a gravity field around you, because I can't seem to stay away. P.S. Check under the desk, I might've added a small modification.”

Next to your coffee in the morning

"You must be a supernova, because you light up my entire galaxy."

Left on the keyboard of your laptop

“I may be fluent in over 6 million forms of communication, but none can express how much you mean to me. Except maybe binary: 01001001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101.”

On a scrap of paper in your bag

“If life were an RPG, you’d be the rarest item—a perfect balance of stats, charisma, and intelligence. Also, +100 beauty.”

Tucked in between your sketchpad pages (if you're into art)

“You’re the canvas, I’m the artist... together, we create the perfect masterpiece. P.S. I’m still better at drawing starships though.”

Left in your lunchbox

“Did you know you increase productivity in starship repairs by 43% just by being near me? I’d call that a superpower.”

Taped to a little DIY gadget he made for you

“This little thing is just like you—ingenious and holds everything together. Also, try pressing the blue button for a surprise.”

Next to your favorite snack

“You’re like the perfect engineering schematic: flawless in design, and I can’t stop marveling at the details.”

In your locker

"I’d cross the Kessel Run in less than 12 parsecs just to see your smile."

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @erosmutt @haydensprettyprincess @mistress-amidala @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet (I have not forgot about you now ;) )

(if you want to be removed or added then don't be shy and let me know 💋)

[sugoroo]

warnings: fem!reader, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, body worship, suguru has a tongue piercing, cum eating, tooth-rottingly sweet! 18+ minors dni.

wc: 0.5k

an: lil drabble while i work on some longer fics! mostly self indulgent. for my fellow suguru girlies <3

thinking about mutual worship with suguru.

you'd be on your knees, your hands resting lovingly on his thighs as you slid him all the way down your small throat. it was always a difficult fit, but you would try your best to take as much as you could.

"mmm. such a good girl for me," suguru would rasp out, one of his large hands tangling in your hair as he gently stroked some messy strands out of your face so he could have an unobstructed view of your pretty eyes.

there was something so beautiful about the way you looked up at him with his cock stuffing up your mouth, the way you ran your tongue across the underside of his length and suckled softly on his pudgy tip feeling utterly worshipful.

you’d make sure to give all of him your attention, never wanting a single part of his body to be ignored as you gently fondled his heavy balls in your hands.

and when he'd inevitably finish, his eyes rolling back in his head and his hand unconsciously holding you in place, he'd be unable to hold back the groans and almost-whimpers that escaped his mouth when he watched your cheeks puff up with his goopy cum.

you would always swallow without missing a beat, even flickering out your little pink tongue to catch any pearly drops that threatened to ooze from your lips.

and of course, suguru would be more than happy to return the favour. there was nothing he loved more than having you splayed out and open for him, pretty pussy glistening with need.

he'd always take his time when he was between your legs, able to spend many hours at a time there — his pierced tongue moving over your sensitive skin with long, languid licks, gathering as much as your sweet syrupy juices on his tastebuds as possible.

"always taste so good, baby." suguru would groan against you, his lips peppering kisses across your soft folds before delving back into your dripping hole, the small metal ball on the end of his tongue brushing all against your gummy walls.

there was no sound he cherished more than the sweet mewls and moans you'd let out as he scissored his long fingers inside of you, his hot mouth sucking against your twitching clit.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, despite the urge to let them flutter shut from the overwhelming pleasure. he looked absolutely beautiful like this, his long black hair loose from his usual neat bun and tickling your thighs.

and when you would finally fall apart for him, he'd drink down everything you offered without hesitation, placing one last loving kiss against your pussy before pulling back.

the two of you would always clean eachother up afterwards with warm, damp cloths before crawling into bed together, cuddling up under the blankets in a cocoon of satisfaction and love.

"i love you, sweet girl," suguru would murmur against your hair, placing a kiss atop the crown of your head before pulling you even closer into his embrace. "can i ask you something?"

"love you too, sugu." you would hum happily in response, snuggling further against his warm chest with a soft smile. "y'know you can ask me anything."

"wanna get married?"

© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

[empty-vessel-of-a-person]

Delulu Mode: Jealous Zayne

Note: Not a Full Fic. Just a Delulu Story in my Brain. I wish I can write a full Story but I can't. Believe me I try.

To say you were hurt is an understatement. it was date night and you are very static that for once, Zayne was able to get off work early. But nothing prepared you to the colder than usual demeanor he has and an almost dismissive attitude.

You are very confused, when you pick him up from the hospital, he even kissed you in the forehead. Something the he's done for the first time.

His colleagues has seen you two stand so close to each other and the furthest they seen you two is greeting each other by holding hands. So the forehead kiss is something new to you but you are still equally happy.

So what happened in between the fifteen minute ride to the restaurant is still a mystery to you.

You are in the verge of crying when he refuse to talk much as you two eat.

Steeling your emotions, you keep everything in check because whatever is upsetting Zayne, he clearly do not want to share with you at the moment.

You two plan on walking on the nearby park after dinner. This is one of Zayne's way to getting you both a simple work out after eating your hearts out. But tonight, you feel awkward to do it so you ask Zayne take you home instead, which to no surprise, he didn't argue.

The ride was awkward and almost suffocating that you were not able to fight the silent tears that started to fall from your eyes. You did not move to wipe the tears as the moment may cause Zayne to notice so you just look out the window.

When you finally see your apartment, you thank Zayne for the dinner and ride home and quickly exited the car.

This seem to knock Zayne out from trans and he run after you. When he finally catch up and turn you to him, he was so shocked that your face is so red with tears. He immediately picks you up and take you back to his car.

You didn't fight him. Instead you held his shoulders tightly until he is able to secure you in car.

Driving fast but carefully , you notice that you are going to the direction of his house. When you are finally arrived, he excited the car without a word and unfasten your seatbelt an carry you again like earlier. When you try to protest, he just hold you tightly but gently and take you straight to his room.

He set you sitting at the edge of the bed and and him kneeling in front of you and his head on your knees as he whispers I'm sorry.

You didn't say anything for a while but you intertwined your hands with him while your other hand was gently stroking his hair. You then realize that his shoulders was shaking. he's crying.

That's when you coax him to talk and found out that he was jealous of the way you easily laugh with Greyson. he reason that with Greyson you always look like you are having fun. While you are just giving him smile and small giggle. he wants you to laugh heartily with him too but he is knows he is not jolly and funny like Greyson and for that he was extremely jealous.

He was so insecure that he kissed your forehead in front of his colleagues to ensure that they know you are his. And after that he proceeded to ignore you and for that he is so ashamed on how he acted.

You feel his arms encircle your legs he then murmurs. Please don't leave me.

It breaks your heart that he thinks that you will leave him for any other man so you hold his face in both your hands. When he finally look at you, you tell him that his presence alone make you happier that any laughing moments with her friends. Having fun and laugh with them does not comes close to how you feel when he showers you affection and you only and exclusively just long for him.

When you ask him to kiss you he was hesitant stating that he doesn't deserve to kiss you because how he acted. You acted angry and tell him that he is allowed to do whatever he wants with you. He was still hesitant that is why you hold the back of his neck and bring your lips down to his and he accept you dominating him.

When the kiss ended you whisper in his ears that you wanted more he then reply "Well then. My Love, what exactly do you allow me to do?"

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Favorite Season 6 fics

So these used to be called "Fic recs for my BFF", but unfortunately I was unable to sway her to buddie, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ these are just for me now (and you guys too I guess 😅)

Season 6

🔥Curl Up in My Heart and Let Me Keep You by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Animal Transformation | 10K | Teen): When an orange tabby cat starts hanging around the Diaz house, Eddie doesn't think anything of it. The little guy's cute and cuddly, and seems to always know when Eddie's having a bad time. Weird how the cat's never around when Buck is, though.

🔥let the world have its way with you by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-Coma AU | 54K | Explicit): “It’s just that—I died,” Buck continues, voice unsteady enough that Eddie wonders if this is the first time he’s acknowledged that out loud. “I died, and there’s so much more. There’s so much more I want to do, things I don’t even know I want to do yet, and I almost had the chance to have and live them taken away. I don’t want to die and regret missing out on everything else, Eddie.” “So let’s make a list,” Eddie says. “Let’s do them.” or, a bucket list that’s really about buck needing to make a change and an eddie who’s ready to do anything to see him fall in love with life again. it takes some crossing off for eddie to realise—the thing at the top of the list in his own heart? it’s been right here all along

🔥like a dog with a bird at your door by fleetinghearts/ @shitouttabuck (Post-S6, Getting Together | 51K | Explicit): The kid with blood pouring down his shins is not so far from the dog lonely enough that he thinks breaking his housetraining is worth it for the ten minutes of berating that come with it, the ten minutes of undivided, if reluctant, attention. Buck thinks, sometimes, that at least he wasn’t the kind of puppy that gets put in a sack and drowned at birth. He wasn’t always unwanted. And he isn’t anymore. or, evan “i love you like a dog” buckley has only ever known how to love like, well, a dog, but maybe eddie diaz is the kinda guy to give a flea-bitten mongrel a forever home

🔥Something Dumb to Do by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Explicit): "Too bad we can't just date each other." Eddie laughs. "What?" "No, I'm serious!" Buck sets his beer down, the better to gesture with both hands, face lighting up, and Eddie just—he really loves the guy, okay. Ridiculous as he is. "It would be so much easier! You wouldn't have to introduce a new person to Chris—he already likes me anyway—and you could tell Pepa so she'll stop setting you up on dates that don't go anywhere—" "And what would you get out of this?" Eddie asks, grinning. — Or: Buck and Eddie try something out together. (Part 1 of homeward bound)

🔥find a way to you (if it kills me) by foxwatson/ @eddiediazes (Post S6E13: Mixed Feelings, Pining | 19K | Mature): It’s something about the way Eddie phrases it. Something about the combination of his words and the way he’s staring down at the floor, and the flush in his cheeks and the way he’s fidgeting. Buck thinks, abruptly, he’s going to ask me on a date. “Well I - wanted to tell you first, and I need someone to watch Chris, anyways - I know he’s getting old enough now he doesn’t like feeling like he’s got a babysitter, so I was hoping - sorry. Not the point. Uh. I have a date on Saturday.” Just as abruptly as his own hopes had come soaring up above the cloud cover of his own unawareness - they go crashing back down to the floor - to the basement, and into the mud. “A date?” Buck rasps out. — the one where eddie decides to start dating again, buck figures out his own feelings just a minute too late, and then he spends a week going through the five stages of grief

🔥Being Eddie by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Time Travel, Post-S6, Getting Together | 80K | Teen): When Eddie starts seeing a new therapist, he’s presented with the opportunity to revisit several days from his past and right regrets that still bother him. OR: Eddie goes through the time travel therapy process of the 2009 Canadian TV show Being Erica.

🔥 Evan Buckley & The Coma-Verse of Madness by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Coma AU, Multiverse | 58K | Teen): After being struck by lightning on a call, Buck experiences a plethora of alternate realities showing him different directions his life could have taken. Fighting hard to get home, Buck learns what, or who, is important to him in every lifetime.

🔥 Both Blade and Branch by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6 | 62K | Mature): The chances of being struck by lightning twice are incredibly minute, but Buck still manages to pull it off. During a double date with Marisol and Natalia, nonetheless. Eddie manages to resuscitate him, but as Buck recovers from yet another trauma, Eddie can’t help but notice there’s something very different about him. He’s not quite sure what version of Buck he got back.

🔥 where all of the people dancing and clapping would greet me with such warmth by trysetmeonfire/ @try-set-me-on-fire (Season 6, Magical Realism | 15K | Mature): In the fall, Buck begins to disappear. (or: Buck can see that people become transparent when they're about to die) (Part 2 of All I Am, All That I Am)

🔥 Ace of Hearts by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (Post-S6, Getting Together | 9K | Teen): "I've been wondering…" Maddie pauses, watches Buck make a face like he's bracing to be smacked. "What happened with Eddie? You two were dancing around it for so long, and then… what, it just didn't work out? Was the date really that bad?" She's expecting another wince, or even for him to duck out of the conversation entirely, but instead Buck is staring at her like she's grown a second head. "Maddie. I've never been on a date with Eddie." Or: the poker game was a date. It takes Buck a while to catch on, though.

🔥 situations, circumstances, miscommunications ( i just may like some explanations ) by heartbeatdiaz / @lonelychicago (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 4K | Teen): "You didn't know?" Eddie asks, calmer but not less confused. He frowns. "How could you not know?" "You never said anything?" Buck tilts his head to the side. "We were dating?” “I guess not,” Eddie sighs. His heart is beating a little faster, an unpleasant buzz beneath his skin as he all but chokes on a feeling he can’t quite name— it could be hurt or disappointment or maybe a mix of both. In that moment, he knows three things very clearly. 1. Buck is going to be the death of him. 2. He is in love with the most dense, most oblivious man on planet Earth. 3. He is too gay and, honestly, too old for this shit.

🔥listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by Yavilee/ @theladyyavilee (Presumed Dead | 41K | Teen): The thing is – and Eddie should have known this, has been taught this cruel lesson over and over and over again – the thing is most of the time the worst day of your life will start like just any other day. A million small moments, so familiar and mundane you almost don’t even notice them slipping by - until you would give anything to go back and get just one more. (You can’t.) — Or the one where Buck is presumed dead after a building collapse and Eddie has to live through the reminder that tomorrow isn't promised to anyone

🔥Eddie Diaz vs The Feelings by ElvenSorceress/ @elvensorceress (Season 6, Sexuality Crisis, Demisexual Eddie | 62K | Explicit): Eddie dives into the mysteries of attraction, romantic love, and asexuality because there's a good chance he's fallen in love with his best friend. AKA demisexual!Eddie figures out he’s demi and finds the happily ever after he’s been longing for

🔥tomorrow will always and forever now be today (tomorrow is our always and forever) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Time Loop | 43K | Mature): "Think I can get a hug from my best man on my wedding day?" he asks, quietly hopeful in a way that makes Eddie want to tear off his skin. "Sure," Chris replies with a shrug, turning to throw Eddie a cheeky grin. "Dad, Buck needs a hug." Two things happen at once then: Eddie has to plaster on a smile authentic enough to convince the one person on this planet that knows him inside out—except he doesn't really have to fake his smile, not at first, because of number two—he sees groom-Buck for the first time. And groom-Buck is every bit as beautiful as Eddie might have imagined him over the years. For a moment, Eddie falls into the greatest betrayal his brain has ever laid out for him, imagining that he might have got to see Buck like this for the first time from the other end of the aisle— (OR: eddie gets trapped in a time loop on the day buck marries natalia)

🔥 Muscle Memory by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Post-S6, Amnesia AU | 40K | Teen): After a disappointment in his personal life, Buck wakes up one morning to find everyone he loves has forgotten him completely. No memories. No recognition. Almost like he was never really there.

🔥 but i can see all along, love (it was you all the way down) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Post-S6, Time Loop | 28K Mature): He puts his laptop away after a bit, and paces the length of his apartment as he tries to take stock of the situation at hand. One: The date is March 22nd, 2024. Two: It has been March 22nd for 3 days now. Three: Buck is trapped in some kind of time loop that is forcing him to relive this day. Four: Eddie is, apparently, in love with him. And. And. Five: Buck doesn’t feel the same way.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

AUs

🔥Nothing Left But You by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars ("Blip" AU, Post-S4E13: Suspicion | 27K | Teen | Warning: MCD): In May of 2021, 25% of Earth's population suddenly disappears. Including Eddie. In May of 2026, they all come back. Eddie finds himself suddenly in the middle of a world he doesn't recognize, where the people he loves most have changed significantly.

🔥 Your Love is an Oil Slick (It Glows like Rainbows, It Stains My Soul) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Canon Divergent - Supernatural Elements, Ghost Buck | 67K | Explicit): When Eddie's son claims he has an imaginary friend, Eddie doesn't think much of it. Christopher is seven, it's what kids do. But then weird things start happening around the house, and Eddie starts dreaming about a handsome blue-eyed man. Turns out, Christopher's friend isn't so imaginary. Their house is haunted.

🔥like when the sun came out by spaceprincessem/ @spaceprincessem (Canon Divergent, Ghosts | 39K | Mature): He completely pulls the charger from the wall as he fumbles to put in his passcode. He doesn’t know who to call first. Everyone is busy, carrying on with their lives and Buck is stuck here in the loft with the terrifying ghost of his childhood like an omen. Out of the corner of his eye he catches the Crooked Smiled Man now standing in the dark entrance way to his bathroom. He swallows around the taste of blood in his mouth, hands shaking, useless as his list of contacts blur beneath the burn of tears. Eddie Eddie Eddie. He doesn’t know where the feeling comes from, but it’s sudden and sharp and excruciating. Eddie is the first name at the top of his list, his most recent calls and texts, and he doesn’t hesitate to hit the call button. [or buck can see ghosts au]

🔥All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 Further Than Blood (Or Than Bones) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 50K | Explicit): Once, Eddie chose to save a newly turned against his better judgment. Five hundred years ago, Buck was saved by a rescuer he thought was a hallucination. Now they're together again and about to find out just how far either of them will go to try and deny what they are to each other.

🔥 let it pour out of your soul series by Rianne/ @rianneeyre (Magical Realism AU, Witch Eddie | 3 works | 71K | Complete):

collectively unconsciously composed (S4E6: Jinx | 46K | Explicit): Or: in which the author re-watched Buck Begins and Jinx and thought: what if this was gayer and had actual magic?

that systematic drug (PWP | 5K | Explicit): Eddie’s mouth goes dry when he opens the door and sees Buck. He’s clean-shaven and with his hair carefully styled back, smiling at Eddie sweetly and a little teasingly. Buck is wearing his dark jeans and his light blue v-neck polo shirt, the one that’s tight enough that it shows off the bulge of his biceps and the definition of his pecs and abs. Eddie knows this shirt. Buck's favourite, because he knows he looks good in it.

something binding us together (Established Buddie | 20K | Teen): Or: Eddie plans a long-avoided visit to his parents, discovers some things about his magic, and begins to build his family a home in LA's witching community.

[ryescapades]

can i request narumi x gojo like reader (like extremely overpowered and yk gojo stuff 😝) because ur dazai fics are just mwah! could they be and captain and they're vc is like suguru :>

thank you !!!!

limitless | kaiju no. 8

characters: narumi gen x gn gojo!reader

contents: sniper!reader, attempt at humor, fluff, some OCs, a lot of made up plots bcs this fic wouldn't exist otherwise (feels like i was world building ngl), reader's division number is not mentioned, narumi appears like in the second half of this, hint of rivals(?) + idiots to lovers

a/n: i hope i did your req justice, tqsm nonnie! lmk if you're satisfied with this or not (bcs im kinda not) almost made reader and their vc become a doomed yaoi couple just like satosugu 2k wc

"ehhh, another mission?"

your vice-captain, akira rolls her eyes at your grumble. "yes, another mission, captain. the higher-ups have requested for us to be there as soon as we possibly can, for the location is said to be in an uptown city of tokyo, a few hours from our base, so we ought to dispatch early," she explains.

"blegh, i bet the old man shinomiya is laughing at me right about now. we literally just returned from a mission like two days ago, akira! he sure loves working us to the bone!" you complain as your hand continues to work, cleaning the glass lens of your sniper rifle's scope.

akira throws a flat look. "maybe because we're the only unit in the defense force that specializes in kaiju intelligence? dummy," she says pointedly, causing you to wave her off. "nah, semantics."

she sighs, shaking her head. "in any case, we need to get ready now. we have to be on the move in about half an hour," your vice-captain's words go into one ear and out the other as your mind drifts away, thinking of how you can possibly sneak away to buy some nice treats while in tokyo.

hm, preferably those ringo apple-custard pies... your mouth waters at the thought.

less than five hours later, you find yourself strutting in the hallways of the ariake base, with akira following close behind.

"how many times do i have to remind you to tell me first if you wanted to make a detour mid-way," akira pinches the bridge of her nose, and you pout slightly. "i didn't even take that long, mind you!" you argue, though the way you dust off the sweet pastry crumbs off your lips doesn't really give the impression that you sound apologetic at all about it.

"captain, you keep forgetting that we have a meeting to get to. you should try to be more considerate towards others' time, you know?" she chastises, making you shrug dismissively. "you're too uptight about everything, akira. loosen up,"

already used to your petty remarks, akira crosses her arms and narrows her eyes at you. "what was that? you wanna take this outside, y/n?" the way she drags the syllables of your name daringly has you smirking, eyes glinting dangerously as you flex your hands. "oh yeah? and what if i say yes?"

what both of you don't realize is that you've walked far enough to reach general shinomiya's office, the sound of the double doors opening snapping off the tense rope that connects your challenging gazes together.

the two of you straighten up awkwardly, whistling a mindless tune and fixing your uniform respectively to pretend like you weren't about to start a scuffle just a second ago.

hasegawa, the one who had opened the doors raises an eyebrow curiously when he sees you and your vice-captain. "seems like they're already here, general shinomiya." he announces over his shoulder before giving a respective nod and taking his leave.

as you enter the office, general shinomiya gives you a long, pointed look. "you're late." your nose scrunches at the comment, "only by fifteen minutes. chill out, old man."

"what they mean to say is—" akira immediately speaks up, frustrated at your lack of manners, but shinomiya isao raises a hand with a shake of his head to interject. "never mind that. we have more pressing matters at hand,"

as he drones on and on about the details of the mission, you're barely listening to any of them when one particular statement catches your attention.

"do your surveillance for at least two days before you clean up and come back to report. i'll send in narumi as well for some extra hands."

like a puppy hearing the sound of kibble food being poured in its bowl, your head perks up in interest.

seems like this mission won't end up being a bore, after all.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

"akira... i'm bored,"

you can almost hear your second-in-command's teeth gritting against each other. "that's the sixth time you've said that, captain." she says, her voice crackling through your earpiece. "wait, really? maybe i should say it another time—"

"please, don't." she interrupts with a huff. "you don't know how many nights i've spent wondering how your impatient ass got this job,"

you're about to counter when a new voice chimes in through the comms, "they're good at this job, that's why." a smile grows on your face at the statement. "ren, of course! this is why you're everyone's favorite," you cheekily say.

your operations leader snickers at the quiet but still audible vomiting noises akira is making. "i'm flattered, captain. but i do agree with vice-captain akira. given how our division is all about stealth and patience, it is quite the surprise someone like you sits at the top," ren muses.

you click your tongue, the small 'tch' sound only providing more amusement for your two subordinates. "you deserve a headlock for that, ren."

be that as it may, you are indeed good at your job. appointed as the captain of a special intelligence unit for the defense force, your division is tasked to undertake any job that requires kaiju surveillance, where you discreetly observe and study the behaviors of these monsters, especially the new species before subjugating them once your task is completed.

where do you think all those official kaiju encyclopedia books and websites get their information from?

your missions are all basically just field trips, to be frank. you command officers who are specifically trained in stealth and espionage, with your sharp sniping skills second to none in the defense force.

your beloved vice-captain, the talented officer that she is, unluckily holds the job of patrolling the perimeter and taking care of any kaiju that happens to stumble upon where your sniping port is set up. can't have the sniper getting jumped now, can we?

pulling your eyes away from the scope, you mindlessly tap away on the side of your sniper gun. "anyways, how's captain narumi doing?" you ask.

the division has very few recruits every year, due to the fact that not everyone can master the perfect form of stealth and spying when it comes to such untamed creatures. with the unit being the only unique one, your officers are often dispatched at various locations at the same time.

thus, the subjugation after the observation is usually carried out with the help of other divisions. and that's where narumi comes in.

or rather, he actually does come in. like, legit.

"worried about me?" the man himself steps into the empty room of the desolated building you're currently positioned at, his bayonet held close to his side. your brows quirk in amusement at the question, "yes, actually. i was worried your... extravagant method of killing kaiju is going to get us spotted sometime soon,"

narumi feels his blood thrums in his ears. he doesn't know what it is about you, but every time the two of you interact, he just gets frustrated and bothered. how are you so... infuriating?

"excuse me? i know perfectly well how you handle your operations, thank you very much!" he exclaims.

"oh? is that so, akira?" you inquire into your earpiece, wanting to poke fun at the first division captain further. he tenses slightly as he's reminded of his recent kills.

a big tease just as you are, akira hums, "well, i certainly heard him gloating with the other officers after his first kill earlier. he was probably doing his usual egosurfing after that... and the second kill was obscenely loud too. and then there's the—"

"okay, i think they get it now, vice-captain." narumi cuts her off in a snap, crimson hues dusting his cheeks. you smirk, about to make another retort when ren's voice intervenes you.

"emergency, captain! there's a kaiju about less than two kilometers away from the town!" your pupils flare in alarm just as akira voices out her surprise, "wait, what? there shouldn't be any of them so close to the human settlement. is it a stray?"

without focusing on ren and akira's discussion, you sling your sniper over your shoulder and head out of the building, "i'm going after it," you announce.

as you walk past narumi, he grabs your arm to stop you. electric sparks jolt underneath the material of your suits and into your skin, though neither of you seems bothered enough to acknowledge it. "there could be more than just that one. i'm coming with you," he insists, unaware that he's leaning into your space to get his point across.

what is it with him and needing to be closer to you? narumi can never figure out the answer to that even if he was aware of it in the first place.

you didn't expect him to suddenly be all up in your face like that, so your hand automatically shoots out towards him, a palm splaying over his chest to hold him back. realizing how weirdly intimate the touch is, you move to pull away but your hand unconsciously lingers, dragging itself down the metal chestplate of his suit before finally retreating in a matter of seconds.

the loss of contact nearly burns you from the inside out, and you hate admitting that it's not in a bad way. not at all, not ever. something about narumi gen just flares you up deliciously, and you're more than happy and willing to crash into this man's blazing inferno.

perhaps you're just as hopeless as he is in that regard.

with a shrug, you throw a sanguine grin at him over your shoulder, "even if you weren't here, narumi, i can handle them just fine. this is my forte, and i'm the strongest one here." shivers run down the back of his spine, the knowing glimmer in your eyes almost making him visibly and audibly swallow.

he doesn't doubt that sentiment. not at all.

narumi knows how strong and skilled you are. if ashiro mina is known with her extremely explosive power, you're known with your hawk's eye trait. you're good at predicting just exactly where the kaiju's core is supposed to be, courtesy of the years of meticulously studying the monsters.

'how am i different to ashiro? hm, let's see... to put it simply, ashiro is the type to spam her high-damaged gun. like a reaaally offensive dps, you see. while i prefer to go with that one shot one kill style,' you'd often say. as a chronic gamer himself, he understood that crystal clear.

as the two of you exit the building and make a beeline towards the direction of the town, a few kaiju that you had surveyed just a few minutes ago turn their heads in attention when they hear your rapid footsteps.

your annoyance rises when they start advancing towards you, all feral eyed and inhumane. "sorry but i really don't have time to waste on small fries like you," you mutter as you take out your handgun.

the next thing narumi knows, their cores are precisely struck with your bullets, including the kaiju whose humongous tail almost swiped at you two from your common blind spot, one which he could've taken out. with his RT-0001 retina, he was less than one second away from handling it!

"oh, would you look at that! i saved your ass, narumi! ain’t i just the best?" you boast, causing his imaginative feathers to ruffle. the respond he's about to give doesn't get to come out, as you manage to irritate him even more.

"by the way, don't you think you should slip in some more trainings everyday? you play enough games as it is. at this rate, you're gonna get weaker than me, you know?" you remark before swiftly skipping away, your tongue sticking out in jest and leaving narumi to deal with his own agitation.

you're literally a menace in narumi's eyes, but his curiosity is boundless. as he moves to follow after your tracks, he keeps asking himself why he just cannot seem to stop wanting to get know you more.

nah i'd win, *dies immediately after*

ps i love when gojo made that digimon ref in s2 he's such a nerd pls. also there's like one hidden ow2 ref in there somewhere. like using pharah and widowmaker in regards to the difference between ashiro and reader

taglist: @maruflix @iamjellyfish @ouiouimochi @yueliie @justwinginglife @lumiambrose @minasfwoopyponytail @17020

©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !

[in-som-niyah]

ok i’ve been having this thought for a while… since jason is so attentive what are some things he would do that makes reader’s life easier??? like i see him as such an acts of service man like if all else fails he will make sure you’re never out of your fav tea or something idk im sorry if this doesn’t make sense 😭😭

"I Do, I Do, I Do"

A/N: digging myself out of a depressive episode with this one + this is my first fic after my long ass hiatus so pls be nice to me im trying

Attentive!Jason Todd will pay so much attention to you you would think he has a camera on you 24/7 and watching your every move.

Jason would remember the big things, like anniversaries and birthdays, but also days of the year when he knows you need the most support from him. If a parent/guardian/loved one died on a specific day/time of year he's attuned to your emotional needs and keeps up with your physical ones (like food and sleep) so you can focus on being ok again. (i am NOT projecting chat)

Jason would also remember the little things, like your favourite tiny spoon, the way you prefer spearmint to wintermint in gum and toothpaste, the way you compulsively brush your hair to the side when your bangs get too long, when it's time for you to leave a social situation. He's just always looking at you and around you to make sure you're happy and smiling when you wave back at him form across the room.

If you have health problems, Jason would never in his life let you run out of meds or whatever you need to combat your illness. The massage gun is always charged, heating pad always available, hot water bottles on standby, compression socks/arm bands at your disposal, everything. He doesn't wait for it to get bad either, he's picked up on your cues so well that he can almost predict a disaster before you do.

Speaking of prediction, he also knows that if you're not off work and in the apartment by a certain time, to start the laundry, dishes and order in/cook a quick dinner because he knows you'll come home a tense ball of stress and worry.

Jason who almost exclusively wears a specific type of softer fabric when you're around him because he loves it when you bury your face in his chest and rest your head on his bicep.

(For the short girlies) Jason who puts rubber corner protectors on the corners of your countertops and tables because you always bash your hips into them when you aren't paying attention.

Jason who does the laundry before you wake up in the morning and folds your clothes exactly the way you do because he knows you're particular about it & doesnt want you to stress about it in the morning.

Jason who puts gas in your car and repairs it himself or sends it to the bats to fix when he can't (he would never admit it though).

Jason who notices your favourite brands of food and makes sure they're always stocked (you're convinced it's witchcraft the way things don't run out)

Jason who just loves you. That's it. That's all. Just love. In any and all ways he can. All the time. In all conditions. In all situations. Patient. Loving. Kind.

[autumnmobile12]

My Hero Academia AU: What Happened on Friday

An Ambush Simulation comic.

Fair warning, this is not one of my usual lighthearted ones. If you’ve read the fic, you’ll know the scene, but if you haven’t, be warned there is brief domestic violence and some blood. Nothing more serious than what's already in My Hero's canon.

Read right-to-left.

Ah, yes. The inciting moment for The Summer Camp Ambush Simulation.

Addressing the reason why things escalated so quickly, since the answer is not really given in the accompanying fic either, we need to look at Endeavor’s point of view. He’s invested twenty-three years into his goal of trying to complete his perfect successor. He has almost succeeded with Shouto, except the events of Hosu City nearly jeopardized that beyond repair. Shouto is his last chance. He can’t have another kid, it’s unlikely he can train a grandchild to succeed him. (You can’t tell me he didn’t consider that.) Shouto being charged with vigilantism and having that black mark could have ruined everything he’s worked so hard for.

And now Touya, his past failure and current problem child who has been charged repeatedly with vigilantism, is stepping between him and Shouto and mouthing off. He’s interfering, just like his mother did.

Old 'habits' die hard.

...

I thought about cutting the comic short with the brothers heading to the bathroom, but I thought it was important to also include Touya's toxic behavior. Yeah, he has PTSD, abandonment trauma, and who knows what else, but acting like this isn't healthy either.

In Chapter 2, Touya fixates on the fact that Endeavor hit him. He barely pays attention to the fact Shouto was there.

In Chapter 3, Shouto is the one whose pov provides the whole picture. He was being scolded and then Touya stood up for him. Touya has never stood up for him, nor does he really understand why he did it. During the confrontation, Endeavor hits Touya. Endeavor has never done that before. Two of Shouto's 'normals' got overturned in the span of two minutes. He's confused, but he still tries to do the right thing by his hostile sibling.

And rather than accept his help, Touya lashes out at him again once the shock wears off. As he is in canon, he is still spiteful, self-destructive, and a bit self-pitying and returning home after the coma in this AU did little to change that because the core issue is Endeavor being a bad parent.

...

And if there's any confusion as to why Shouto sees Rei briefly after Touya is knocked to the floor, this is a bit of dialogue from the fic it's from:

"I spent my entire childhood listening to my mother crying because you hurt her over and over.  I refuse to live through that again with my brother."

...

Fun fact: I did not draw these pages in order.

Through the whole bathroom scene, all I could think was, "Shouto...baby...gloves."

...

Further comics for this AU, click here.

[dreadnought-despair]

hey y'all yeah this is the post you think it is

after two official tries and several unposted attempts over the course of almost 8 years, i think im calling dreadnought despair, er... mostly dead? BUT im bringing this blog back! ill be picking stuff to answer from the askbox (keep in mind i have a job and im getting old lol) as well as just drawing the kids bc i miss them

i also feel pretty bad about where i left off, so i'm considering finishing out chapter 1 (if i can remember how i had all the code set up 😬) but it would take A While. so heres a poll

more of an explanation under the cut. if you want to see what else I've been up to, check out my art blog @amelias-art and my twitch [AmeliasArt], where i've started streaming pretty regularly on tuesdays and thursdays around 7pm CST!

im sure this cancellation isn't a surprise to anyone but i just wanted to get this out there for my own peace of mind

it has nothing to do with the wonderful folks who supported me through the years and everything to do with my mental health, getting older, and frankly poor story planning. it's a classic case of a project that never had a strong outline and thus ballooned in scope as it went-- you'll see what i mean when i start trying to answer asks about what would've been the endgame LOL. and ill do my best to answer some stuff, but there are some unintroduced concepts and characters that i would like to save for other stories so i may be vague about parts of it

even if it was masterfully planned, though, it still would've been hard to really pick up again-- I started this fic in college when I was at my most suicidal, and the reboot happened in 2020 which, well anyway,, im in a better place now with a loving husband, a stable job, a healthier relationship with my queerness, and multiple mental health diagnoses and medications. im proud of what i did accomplish with dreadnought, and im grateful to it and the community for getting me through some miserable times, but it's still a reminder of those times in and of itself. maybe by officially shelving it i can move on

thank you so much for sticking around! it really means a lot to me

[hyunjinsjeans]

Winter Madness (Han x Reader)

Summary: trying to take things slow with Chan after a certain conversation turns into a weekend getaway to remember.

Type: Fluff 🧸, SFW 👍

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, mentions of health issues.

Word count: 1992 Words

Related: He Knows (Han ver.)

Masterlist Here

AN: This fic is a part 2 to Han’s version of the He Knows Series. It can also be read as a stand alone. This one is not as horny as Bangchan’s version hehe, I wanted more Hannie fluff, so here we are! Enjoy!

You did not struggle to get pregnant, after all the worrying Jisung did for you, it turned out to be a simple task. As simple as simply having unprotected sex a few times. Jisung had been incredibly overprotective from the moment you came home with the lab results. You were supposed to wait until your doctor’s appointment, but the two of you just had to take a little look at the papers in the envelope. 

There was one single line that indicated “pregnancy” and after the long line of dots the next word would either be “negative” or “positive”, in black bold ink your result was “positive”. Han was worried sick, those first few months he would lose sleep over your aches and symptoms. 

You went through nothing special, but to Han it was all his fault. He would sometimes let his anxiety take the wheel. Fortunately, there was a big tour to get through while their baby grew healthy in your belly. You did not stop working until your stomach was so big you could not sit comfortably at your desk, by which point you were almost at full term. 

You were excited to tag along with Han and some of the boys on a short weekend to Busan, I.N was excited to have everyone with him in his hometown as his girlfriend tagged along too for the first time. You did not think much about it, packing and leaving thinking how you were programmed for a c-section in three weeks time. 

Of course, things never go quite as planned. You were taking a walk down the cold streets of Busan with Felix and his girlfriend while Han got bullied by Seungmin ahead of you when you felt something cool and wet on your leg. You stopped with a frown and looked down, the couple besides you took notice and Felix!Reader passed her little girl to Felix as she turned to you and asked if you needed to use the bathroom. You shook your head and then tried to look down, asking her why she was asking. 

“Y/N… there’s a poodle… are you okay? Did your water break?!” 

And that was the moment the penny dropped, right as I.N and his girlfriend reached you, you touched your stomach and nodded. 

There was a little bit of chaos after that. From the youngest in the group figuring out where the nearest hospital was in order to take you, to Han frantically trying to reach your obgyn on the phone. You were happy to at least have the girls with you, Innie’s girlfriend was a nurse and knew a thing or two, she helped quite a bit keeping you comfortable while Felix!Reader tried to remember all the breathing exercises from when she gave birth. Felix and Seungmin entertained themselves by keeping Felix’s girls occupied. 

You were not expecting all the planning you had spent months working on, to be useless. 

You ended up giving birth naturally in a hospital in Busan while on a weekend getaway. Han was beyond anxious at the prospect of something going wrong because you did not know the doctors here. He had to trust everything would be okay and in the end it was. Han held your hand the entire time, speaking words of encouragement and kissing your sweaty forehead whenever you looked too tired to go on. He kept his nerves to himself the best you had ever seen him do, sitting strong next to you, being the support you needed and more.  At around 9:00 p.m. you had a beautiful baby girl. Born only a few days before Christmas, your baby was small and healthy, crying loudly the second she came out. You cried along with Han, his eyes comically wide as the doctor announced it was a girl. Both of you were expecting a boy, but it was in the air as your baby just did not cooperate during scans. 

“It’s a girl!” He kissed the back of your hand, “we have a girl!” 

You laughed with your eyes closed and your head lying against the pillow, too tired to react any other way. “Is she okay?” 

Han was able to cut the umbilical cord and took a glance at his daughter in the safe hands of one of the nurses.

“Babe,” he brushed your hair back, “you did great, our baby is perfect.”

While the doctor and nurses got your baby clean one of the nurses asked if you had decided on a name for her, so they could put it on the bracelets. You looked up at Han, both of you lost for words, you had decided on a boy name. It felt like suddenly all the planning really was for nothing. Having to do a complete 180, you offered your husband a smile. 

“My nana’s name was Hae-rin. I feel it might suit her.”

Han’s eyes scan your face as he remembers your Nana, who passed a few months prior. She was a funny woman, it certainly felt empty going to your parent’s house after her passing. She was a bright lively woman, she could never stay still. Han could see what you meant. He nodded. 

“Haerin,” he kissed your knuckles. “That’s her name”. 

The nurse nodded and carefully wrote the name on the two bracelets, placing one around your wrist and then wrapping the other one around your babygirl’s tiny wrist too. After that, you were able to hold her. An exhausted smile on your face as you were handed the most delicate little thing in the world. You watched Han standing next to you, his hand coming to cup your daughter’s head as you held her into your chest. The two of you cried happily, finally meeting the little girl you spent the last year waiting for. 

Haerin was a beautiful little girl, she met her first two friends the following morning when the guys came to see her. Felix’s girls both entranced as they watched the baby sleep. You giggled as the girls ooh’ed at her in your arms. Felix!Reader held her eldest as she pointed out Haerin’s cute little nose, Felix kept his youngest’s hands at bay as she tried to touch the newborn baby girl. 

You were able to take her home a couple days later, Han had to stay at a hotel while the rest of the boys went back to Seoul to work. You spent that first week in the hotel in Busan, making the most of the surprise arrival of your little one. She was an angel, she cried little, although whenever she did it was loud. You and Han spent almost two hours in the bathroom with her the first time you gave her a bath. First struggle was getting her out of her onesie as she felt so fragile and delicate. The second struggle was being able to support Haerin’s head while bathing her. Han helped hold her, his hands seemed so big then that you two giggled at the sight. He was happy to pick her up out of the bathtub and wrap her in a soft towel, drenching the front of his shirt in the process. 

Luckily, you were back in Seoul after that one week. Entering your home again, this time as a family of three. Han grunted as he spotted your “birth bag” on the entryway. 

“We could have used that last week…” He pointed out as you entered behind him with Haerin in her brand new baby carrier. 

“I even got special pj’s for the hospital, socks, flip flops and a little blanket for her!” You pause, chuckling “well, it was blue, I thought we were having a boy!”

Han laughs, now looking at you with furrowed brows but a smile on his face. “Her entire room is for a boy…” 

You cover your face with your hand and smile, you walk into the home with your sleeping baby. “I hope she likes blue and bears…” 

You bring her into her room, setting the baby carrier down and pulling her out of it carefully. Han watches you as you pull her into your chest. He sighs, looking at the pastel pink bundle in your arms. The nursery was all baby blue and grey. Her crib was adorned with a white blanket and a couple of teddy bears, a single HanQuokka in the corner. 

“It’s okay, we can redo the room when she is a little bigger,” you said, knowing well that having your baby born so close to christmas was going to mean the two of you were going to be busy. 

Han was a top notch dad from day one, arriving home he was nothing less than a sweetheart to both you and your baby. He woke up in the middle of the night to change her diapers, helping you feed her and calm her down when she simply couldn’t sleep. He went to work but kept checking on you two; sending you messages or calling to ask if everything was okay. You could confidently say that Han was a wonderful dad. 

He also made an effort to talk to you, to ask about how you felt and open up about his worries. Whether he had work things or personal things in his mind, he told you about them at night when you got ready for bed, and he held you close whenever you needed a little cheering up. 

The one thing that you found the hardest about having a baby was the sudden rush of hormones that seemed to assault you that first month after giving birth. You loved your baby so much, you missed having her be a part of you… she felt so foreign in your arms, you felt like it was not right and you struggled with the anxiety of being unable to change it. Han helped you, listened and supported you; making sure you knew it was okay and it would be okay. He held her every chance he got, going as far as sitting quietly in the living room just holding her to spend time with her. And seeing this helped soothe your nerves a lot, it made your brain reason how important it was she was her own person. 

On Christmas you had Han’s parents visit, they met her and filled her with gifts and love. You saw the excitement in his mother’s face when she got to hold her for the first time. Haerin was already growing so much in just two weeks… Considering she was born a little early, she was doing fine. Growing and growing, eating well and beginning to take in her surroundings, showing how comfortable she was in Han’s and your own arms, quickly becoming picky about who got to hold her, she absolutely hated being in Han’s dad’s arms, and at best she tolerated his mom’s. 

“Oh, she just likes to be in her dad’s arms,” his mother commented once Haerin started crying and Han picked her up, holding her in his arms and calming her down. 

“Mom…” he tilted his head, “she probably just needs to get comfortable with you.” 

“No, no… babies know their parents,” his mother waved him off, “it’s natural. It’s okay, Jisung.”

“Don’t let him fool you,” you told your in-laws. “He spends most of his free time with her, he has basically turned himself into her bed.”

Han smiles sheepishly and his ears burn pink. “Well, she’s my baby! Of course I’ll hold her all I can!” He cradles her head softly, “she’s so small too… my baby girl…” 

You could tell that with a dad like Han, your little Haerin would be loved and cared for, she was going to live a good life being spoiled by her parents. She was going to be a daddy’s girl for sure as Han was already wrapped around her little finger. 

———

Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

[la-spooky]

꧁ ༺ Beneath His Dark Waters ༻ ꧂

I am determined to prove that Rafayel is a more fucked up individual than Sylus. It's unnerving how well he hides it. A match made in hell.

༻ CH1: His Ocean, His Obsession ༻ Read the 18+ kinky smut chapters at my AO3 ༻ Fic Status: Ongoing ༻ Pairing: Sylus x Rafayel ༻Summary: "You know damn well you fucked me, Rafayel," Sylus growled, his voice low and dangerous. "We made a deal." Rafayel felt the room closing in around him as the words sank like lead into his chest. His mouth went dry, but he kept his gaze locked on Sylus, refusing to show the fear gnawing at him from within. For a brief moment, Rafayel saw something else in Sylus’s eyes, a flicker of something raw, almost pained, beneath the anger. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the cold, unyielding mask of control. Sylus leaned forward, the broken glass cutting into his palm. He didn’t flinch. “It’s time to pay your debt.”

The following content is protected under copyright laws. Do not copy, modify, repost on other sites or claim as your own.

© 2024 la-spooky

Rafayel's nerves had been fraying for days. It started with small things. Feeling a prickling on the back of his neck as if someone was watching him, shadows that seemed to move just out of sight, and flashes of red that flickered in his peripheral vision. At first, he dismissed them as tricks of his mind or remnants of his time on the run. But as the days passed, the sense of being watched grew stronger, the flashes of red more frequent, and his sleep more restless.

He tried to ignore his paranoia by poring himself into his art. The studio, usually a place of calm and creation, now felt like a pressure cooker, the walls closing in on him. He was in the middle of a particularly aggressive stroke when his phone buzzed loudly on the table beside him. The sharp sound made him jump, his hand slipping and smearing the paint across the canvas. With a frustrated sigh, he wiped his hands on a rag and grabbed the phone, his heart still racing from the sudden noise.

The message was from an unknown number. His brow furrowed as he opened it, expecting some spam or wrong number. But as soon as the text opened, his phone screen flickered violently. The usual smooth interface became corrupted with glitching streaks of black and red. Before he could react, the first message appeared on the screen with a distorted nightmarish tone that made his skin crawl. 

¿D̸͖͘ḭ̶̽d̶̼̽ ̶͍͝y̵̡̽o̵̟̕u̴̓ really think y̷̤̌o̵u woü̴ld get͈ aw̵̘̕ȃ̵̭y ̶͑with it?

Rafayel's heart pounded in his chest as he read the message. His mind raced, trying to figure out who could have sent it and what they were talking about. He tried to reply, but the phone screen glitched again before he could even type a response. What in the- a loud crash came from outside the studio. He froze for a moment, listening intently for any other sounds. Footsteps crunched on the gravel pathway, unnervingly deliberate and purposeful until they stopped just outside the glass sliding door.

Rafayel's nerves were shot at this point and he couldn't take it anymore. Fuck this. I’m outta here. He grabbed his keys and bolted out of the studio through his front door. As soon as he stepped outside though, everything went black.

Rafayel awoke handcuffed to an ornate dining chair. The room around him was draped in opulence, with rich red and black accents that seemed to seep into every corner. The dining table in front of him was laden with an extravagant feast. Glossy, decadent dishes that seemed almost too beautiful to touch, flanked by champagne flutes that caught the dim light and reflected it back with an eerie glimmer.

Dizziness gripped him, making everything appear fragmented. A groan escaped Rafayel's lips as he struggled to clear the haze from his vision. “Ah, you’re awake,” came a seductive, gravelly voice. “I was beginning to worry you’d miss the fun.”

Rafayel's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the voice. His blood ran cold as his vision gradually cleared. Across the table sat the suffocating presence of his past. A towering white haired man, alluring and intimidating in equal measure, watched him with piercing red eyes that cut through the haze with unnerving clarity. It was Sylus, his former captor and tormentor. Memories of his time with Sylus flooded back into Rafayel's mind, causing him to shudder involuntarily. He struggled against the restraints holding him down but they were too tight. He looked around frantically for a way out but there seemed to be none.

Sylus leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watched Rafayel's panic. "You see," Sylus began, picking up a glass of whiskey and swirling it thoughtfully before taking a sip. "I have my ways of finding what is mine." His eyes gleamed dangerously at the last word. "And now that you're back where you belong," he continued softly, setting down the glass and steepling his fingers under his chin "we can finally catch up on old times."

"You can't keep me here," Rafayel spat at Sylus, trying to sound brave despite feeling terrified inside. "I'm not your pet anymore."

Sylus's lips twitched into a smirk at Rafayel's defiance. He found it amusing how the younger man tried to stand up to him, even when he was so clearly trapped. "Oh really?" he asked, leaning forward slightly. "And what makes you think that you are even worthy of being my pet? After all, I could have any Lemurian I please." His eyes raked over Rafayel hungrily before settling back on his face. There was something almost playful about Sylus now; a dangerous game where only one could win and lose simultaneously.

Rafayel gritted his teeth at the condescending tone in Sylus's voice. He refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he had suffered during his captivity. "I don't know what you're talking about," Rafayel replied, trying to sound as confident as possible despite feeling like a trapped animal. "I've moved on from that part of my life."

Sylus chuckled softly at Rafayel's attempt to deny their past. He could see the fear in his eyes, even though he tried so hard to hide it. "Moved on?" he repeated incredulously, shaking his head slightly as if disappointed by such naivety. "You can run from me all you want but remember this; I always find what is mine." His gaze lingered on Rafayel for a moment before looking away dismissively.

Rafayel's stomach churned at the thought of being used by Sylus again. He had spent years trying to forget about their past together, but it seemed like he was doomed to relive it all over again. "I won't let you touch me," Rafayel said firmly, his voice shaking slightly with fear and anger. "I'd rather die than be your plaything again."

Sylus raised an eyebrow at Rafayel's defiance. He found it amusing how the younger man thought he could resist him. "Is that so?" he asked, with a smirk on his face. "And what makes you think that death is preferable to being mine?" His eyes gleamed dangerously as if daring Rafayel to try and escape once more. Rafayel knew damn well that death by his hands would be excruciatingly slow and sadistic.

Sylus leaned back in his chair and studied Rafayel with an unreadable expression, his piercing red eyes simmering beneath an icy veneer. The tension between them thickened, coiling in the air like a predator waiting to strike. "You know damn well you fucked me, Rafayel," Sylus growled, his voice low and dangerous. "We made a deal."

Rafayel felt the room closing in around him as the words sank like lead into his chest. His mouth went dry, but he kept his gaze locked on Sylus, refusing to show the fear gnawing at him from within.

Sylus's lips curled into a humorless smile as he continued. "You signed your rights away willingly, willingly," he repeated, as though tasting the bitterness of the betrayal on his tongue. “And still, you had the audacity to screw me over and everything we built together." The sound of glass cracking rang out as Sylus’s hand tightened around the delicate crystal in his grip. A hairline fracture splintered through the whiskey glass, but he paid it no mind, his focus solely on Rafayel.

For a brief moment, Rafayel saw something else in Sylus’s eyes, a flicker of something raw, almost pained, beneath the anger. But just as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by the cold, unyielding mask of control. Sylus leaned forward, the broken glass cutting into his palm. He didn’t flinch. “It’s time to pay your debt.”

Rafayel's heart pounded in his chest. Debt. The word hung between them, charged with unspoken meaning. He knew exactly what Sylus meant, what he wanted. But Rafayel refused to bow to the weight of that word. Not again.

"You think this is about some deal we made?" Rafayel spat, the tremble in his voice betraying his rising fear. "You don't own me, Sylus. Whatever I signed, it was under duress. You manipulated me, cornered me until I had no choice!"

Sylus's expression darkened, his red eyes narrowing into slits. He stood slowly, the fractured glass slipping from his hand and shattering on the floor. “I gave you everything, Rafayel. Freedom, power, a life beyond the chains of Lemuria, the civilization that you single-handedly destroyed. I shielded you from the guilt and sorrow of the mess you made. I saved you. And in return, you betrayed me.”

Rafayel felt a surge of anger flood his veins. “Betrayed you? You imprisoned me, Sylus. You never gave me freedom. You twisted it to your liking, made me believe I owed you my life. But I was never free, not for a second. I was just your exotic pet!”

A cold, sharp laugh escaped Sylus, his towering form looming over the table now. “Oh, Rafayel...You still don’t understand, do you?” His voice, rich with malice and something darker, sent a shiver crawling down Rafayel’s spine. Rafayel's breath quickened as Sylus drew closer, his steps echoing ominously through the grand room.

As the handsome predator approached, Rafayel’s senses were overwhelmed. Sylus’s presence was intoxicating, his cologne thick with the unmistakable scent of Lemurian aphrodisiacs. It hit Rafayel like a wave, dulling his resistance as an involuntary heat coursed through him. His lips parted, and to his horror, he realized he was already salivating. He clenched his jaw, forcing his body to fight the effect. “S-stop…get away from me,” Rafayel choked out, his voice trembling, but the defiance was still there, buried beneath the fear and the unnatural pull he felt toward Sylus. His words felt weak, powerless, swallowed by the overwhelming presence of the man closing in on him.

Sylus smiled deliberately as if savoring Rafayel’s struggle. He leaned in, his eyes glowing with that same predatory hunger as he reached out, his fingers brushing against Rafayel’s cheek. The touch was feather-light but burned with an intensity that made Rafayel flinch. The blood that had been oozing from Sylus’s palm moments ago seemed to vanish, the gash knitting together in front of Rafayel’s wide eyes as if his very flesh bent to Sylus’s will.

“There’s no escaping what’s real, Rafayel,” Sylus whispered, his voice softening into something almost tender, a cruel contrast to the situation. “Your debt...it was never just about the deal.” He paused, letting the words settle like a weight on Rafayel’s chest. “It’s about us.”

Rafayel’s heart hammered as Sylus’s hand slid from his cheek to his jaw, tilting his face upward so their eyes locked. The red in Sylus’s gaze gleamed with a dangerous mix of desire and dominance. “What we had, Rafayel...you felt it. You know it was real.”

Rafayel gritted his teeth, fighting the haze clouding his thoughts, his body betraying him under the effects of the Lemurian drugs and the unnerving pull of Sylus’s power. “You twisted everything...it was never real,” he hissed, though even as he said the words, there was a crack in his voice. It had been real and he couldn't even deny it to himself. But what Sylus wanted, what he took, couldn’t have been love.

Sylus’s lips quirked into a smirk, his thumb brushing along Rafayel’s lower lip with unsettling intimacy. “You keep telling yourself that, but deep down, you know. What we shared, it was more than just control. You gave yourself to me because you wanted to. And I...gave you everything.” The warmth in Sylus’s voice was laced with venom, a seductive, dangerous edge that made Rafayel’s skin crawl.

Reality was more terrifying than the delusion Rafayel had spun for so long. He could not accept that maybe, just maybe, there had been something mutual in the twisted relationship. Sylus hadn’t always manipulated him, hadn’t always warped his mind until nothing felt certain except the suffocating weight of his power. Rafayel had willingly swam into the angler fish’s trap again and again and again.

[spookyquill]

Hi! Saw you're taking JJK requests and here I am. I'm sick and just not getting out of bed so kind of wanted a fic with Satoru where hebwas away for a mission and got back only to find his wife sick (like, nothing life threatening. Just a cold or fever or something) so he decides to take care of her but she feels bad because he's so busy and has to 'deal with her being sick', especially after he just got back from a mission. Thank you so much if you decide to do it! I'm on a different account right now but please tag @ladyodpandemonium if you write the fic so I can catch it. Big thanks!!!

Apologies for the delay, trying to focus on myself and that includes letting some requests go. But I have some drafts ready to post so look out for them.

@ladyodpandemonium

~•~

Bleary eyes open, your head pounding despite the long rest you just took. Snot drips down from your nose and onto the pillow you rest on. With a disgusted groan, you reach over to your bed side table and pull out a couple tissues from the box. As you hold the tissues to your nose, you take notice of the other things occupying your table.

A couple boxes of pills and a glass of water sit there idly next to the box of tissues. They had not been there when you collapsed on your bed. You didn’t even think of those things. Which really meant only one thing.

Gojo kneeled in front of you, his concern etched on his face as he gently tucked your hair behind your ear.

You groan in contentment. “You’re supposed to be on a mission.”

“I’ve completed that. I came home expecting you to be doing pointless chores or something, but instead I’ve found you cuddled up sick in bed.” Gojo sighs, moving his hand to cup your cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve left the mission early to come take care of you.”

You lean into his touch, his palm cool against your flush skin. “I didn’t want to disturb you- wait.” You lift your head up, looking for your phone. “What day is it?”

Gojo gently guided your head back to your pillow, silencing your search. “It’s Thursday. How long have you been sick for?”

Panic washes over you. “Shit. I came to bed on Tuesday. Shit I overslept!” You sit up, ignoring the pulsing headache beginning to take shape. “Why didn’t my alarm go off?!”

Gojo is quick to stop your attempts to get up, standing and keeping your ass on the mattress with his hand on your shoulders. “You obviously needed the sleep. Stay in bed, you need to rest.” When you stop fighting against him, mainly because of the overbearing headache, he moves to sit on the side of your bed, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead and grimacing. “Have you eaten anything?”

You tried to eat something before you went to your bedroom, but everything in the fridge made you nauseous and you couldn’t think enough to cook or heat up some food. Your growling stomach answers gojos questions before you can verbalise any response.

Gojo nods. “Stay here. I’ll heat up some soup for you.”

You shake your head, which protests angrily at the movement. “No, I don’t want to get you sick. I’ve already bothered you enough. You shouldn’t have to deal with me being sick. You’ve been so busy and I don’t want to get you sick because of me.”

Gojo lifts a finger to your chin, tilting it up to look at his sparkling blue eyes. “Nothing matters but you at the moment. I’ll never be too busy for you and I don’t want you to think that you’re a bother to me at all. You take priority over everything else in this world.” He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Now stay right here, lean against the head rest while I go prep some soup for you. I want you to have something to eat. Keep your energy up.”

You sigh in defeat, mumbling an agreement as he walks out the room. It doesn’t take long for him to come back, but he walks back in to find you almost falling asleep again.

“Baby, I know you’re tired still but I would really appreciate you having something to eat.”

You grumble, eyes lifting lazily to stare at the soup in his hands. Even the thought of lifting your hands exhausts you. And Gojo sees this.

He walks around to the other side of the bed, soup still in hand, and carefully climbs on top of it, nestling himself beside you. He nudges your body to lean upright against him, your cheek pressed to his chest and one arm falling into his lap. He hears your sigh of relief and can feel your muscles relaxing into him. He brings the soup over to you, spoon sitting in it. He holds the bowl with one hand and grabs the spoon with the other, encasing you with his embrace as he does so.

You watch as he scoops up some soup into the spoon and carefully brings the spoon to your lips. As soon as the soup trickles down your throat, you let out a soft hum.

Gojo continues to spoon feed you the whole soup, thankful that your eating something at least. Once the bowl is empty, he places the spoon down in it and puts the bowl on his bedside table. When he looks back to you, he finds you already snoring softly against him.

He lets out a light chuckle. “Get some sleep babe, I’ll be right here when you wake up, ready to take care of you.”

[flzrencent]

matthew sturniolo ,, bones and all au

! warnings ! ; mdni. if you're unfamiliar or uncomfortable with the movie by luca guadagnino i'd advise you not to proceed. blood, lots of it. light gore, but gore nonetheless. cannibalism as a metaphor (or form) of love. heavily based on the acts in the movie bones&all, but you could probably read it without needing to watch the movie. violence. mature themes.

authors note ; sooo basically i've litch never posted on this app. like at all. it took me embarrassingly long to figure out how to use it! i haven't seen this type of fic on here, and im a little iffy on how it'll be perceived and a little concerned about hate on the first post considering the plots insane nature, but i loved the movie bones and all so much and i cannot stop thinking about it, so naturally i had to write something about it and who better to write about than matt! summary ; A life lived under the careful eye of those around her, a carnal urge suppressed, and Matthew Sturniolo — the boy who'd taught her how to love without consuming them all.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

Clean teeth was to be a privilege. Just one bite, and they stain forever.

Eaters; a state of cannibalism, not acquired, but passed down to at birth. The all-consuming, overwhelming urges to consume flesh broken down and seeping into every part of the brain. The only ever growing hunger, the need to eat, to feed.

Skin to skin, layers of it ripped and shredded beneath sharpened teeth and frantic claws, all in which disguised as one amongst all.

Hidden in plain sight is how she lived the first 17 years of her life, and it is how she would live till death.

Her fingers tapped rapidly, nerves at the tips tingling with each bounce of her leg. Her jaw clenched with restraint. It had been a year without an incident, her father told her this morning. He’d like to keep it that way.

She would too, really, it’s her only wish – but, she couldn’t help it.

Saliva pooled in her mouth, quick swallows pushing the thirst down. The dull voice of the teacher talking was drowned through the ringing in her ears, eyes rapidly flickering across the room. 

And then, with a muffled cough, she quickly gathered her things. The class fell silent, eyes confused and tracing her on her way out, her fingers clutched against the old green cross-body bag, knuckles white and teeth bared.

Red covered the lower half of her face, her lithe body stood guiltily at the doorway as her father rushed around her. The familiar route of packing, his voice shouting, profanities directed at her she couldn’t help but ignore through the ringing playing out stubbornly in her ears.

The sticky feel covered her palms, metallic taste lingering in her mouth as her tongue ran over the crimson stained surface of her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” The repetitive mumble spilled from her lips, pushing its way through the blood. It was useless, apologising. The damage had been done, and they would have to yet again flee without a word and the search for her eventually turning cold. Families left broken, and yet her hunger was found disturbingly satisfied.

Her jeans were old, and if you really looked close enough, drops, which once stained red, littered the ankles where she’d dragged herself from that girl’s home. Maybe it wasn’t her - maybe it was the ones from before - but nowadays, they all blended into one.

Nevertheless, nobody batted an eye, and everything would be okay. 

Almost.

Her head, thoughts like a broken record, jumbled with worries and wishes, and wouldn’t stop racing. 

Okay, that's fine. Maybe no sleep would do her good; a reset, almost.

Boots hit the floor, the ugly squelch of mud beneath her feet with the dim moonlight doing little to guide her. The dirt road was long, and she was yet to find the end, or figure out where exactly she’d set herself to go.

Wails disturbed her peace, frame startled beyond what she’d expected. Her feet halted, body frozen in place whilst her eyes searched for somewhere to go – grasping on nothing but dirt and mulch. Fear was irrational, she realised. What could get worse than her own self? Accustomed to the idea of bravery, faux awareness of safety building herself up to get moving again, she set herself onto the scheme of investigation. Her feet moved swiftly towards the sound, and her breaths dwindled to as small and silent as she could get them. The smell of familiarism halted her once again.

Something she’d sensed before - a similarity she’d only heard about, one she was yet to collide with. Then, a shouted ‘Hey!’ was sent her way, and a boy – seemingly around her age – almost covered head to toe in a darker hue she could distantly recognise in such faint gleam began approaching.

It was carnal, animalistic, almost. It seems most things she did were that way.

Silence engulfed the young as they ate, fulfilling the longing desire that she had been saving in hopes of normalcy, because maybe, just maybe, if she ignored it long enough it would fade.

Her knees were red where they dug into the harsh grounds, the rustling of the leaves in the wind taunting her, howls reminding her of the grief she’d brought, eerily familiar to the last time she feasted, seemingly similarly reminding the boy clawing at the same meal.

With slickened hands, shaking with something she didn’t wish to place (a sense of satisfaction), her eyes hesitantly trailed to who was slumped (Matt, she learnt, the name mumbled uncertainly her way after he’d invited her over), propped up on his hands, legs outstretched before him, and head tilted back with steady huffs of air. Curiously, she gazed on the droplets falling their way down the pale expanse of his neck, possibly for too long, because returning back to now caused the girl to meet his stare.

Was this how they felt looking at her? How her father felt?

“Thank you.”

Her words were muttered uncertainly into the wind. Quietly, as if sharing a secret, as if she hadn’t shown him the most vulnerable state one like them, such a force of evil, could experience. Nevertheless, with someone she had only met for the first time just moments ago.

His gaze was cold, and although she couldn’t quite place exactly where it was in the midst of the darkness, she could feel its intensity; the warmth left where he trailed it.

“You smelled hungry, s’all.” His sultry voice caught her off guard, equally dirty hands coming to rub along his jaw. The sight made her shudder.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

florence ,

first fic hellooooooo?!?!?! i was debating on wether or not i should keep this going so let me know, because i know this typa fic isn't everybody's favourite thing ever so im hoping it reaches the target audience lol

[wsdanon]

hello everyone I made a little poll about this wip on my alt blog, so here it is \o/!! fic for some of the shotgunners (Matt, Felps, Guaxi) except I don’t feel like I’ve watched enough to write about this confrontation + resolution correctly, so just take this little lead up thing I wrote because I really wanted to write something for them…

reblogs appreciated, hope you enjoy \o/!!

Well, Felps is now stuck between a rock and a hard place. Although using rock to describe the demon pathetically clinging to his arm—who made himself smaller just so he could stare up at Felps with wide eyes—doesn’t seem entirely accurate. But it is working. Even if it makes it a little hard to see what he’s signing. 

“Matt…” Felps sighs. How to put this? “I want to stay on good terms with Guaxinim.” 

“It’ll be fine!” Matt insists. “You two have already fought, right? Just say it’s a misunderstanding similar to that if it goes wrong.” 

“He might be too paranoid for that, you know?”

“But we’ve already all investigated together and he was fine then! It doesn’t need to be anything big—just, you know, that you trust me.” Matt pauses, seeming to consider something. “And… maybe that you don’t think people will think badly of him for talking with a demon?”

“Ah, Matt… you’re pushing it a little, yeah?” Felps sighs. “But, fine. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thank you!” 

Matt uncurls himself and throws his arms around Felps in a tight hug. Honestly—he is taller than Felps. That crouched position to make himself look smaller couldn’t have been very comfortable for long. Or maybe it’s fine for demons—he doesn’t know. 

Out of Felps and Guaxinim it’s almost funny that it’s shaken out like this. But he’s never been a very good Saint. Does Matt appreciate the irony, too? 

“Okay, okay.” He hugs Matt a little tighter before trying to pull away. For a moment—he doesn’t think Matt is going to let him. “I’ll go talk to him now. But don’t expect it to work, okay?”

“Of course.” Matt smiles—and how can Guaxinim say with so much confidence that the man in front of him is ugly? It’s certainly not true. Not in Felps’ opinion, at least. “Thank you for trying, though.” 

“Of course, of course, it’s no problem.”

He does… sort of trust Matt. Compared to everyone else on the island that isn’t in their group, he could even say he trusts Matt the most. If someone suggested he be added to their chat, Felps wouldn’t argue. They are already kind of investigating with him, anyway. 

He has no idea what’s going on with Matt and Bagi, but maybe if this thing with Xinim and Matt smoothes over he will get an invite. If Meiaum has any reservations about it Felps is sure he’ll easily be able to convince those away. 

With another thank you, and a goodbye, Matt runs off. Leaving Felps with the mammoth task of somehow convincing Guaxinim to be less harsh with Matt. 

“Where are you?” He messages Guaxi. “I want to talk.”

Guaxinim sends his location. With a belated, “Everything okay?” 

“Just have some information.” Felps replies. 

Then he plugs the coordinates into his map and stops focusing on messaging in favour of getting there as quick as possible. It’s starting to turn night, and Felps doesn’t want to deal with the myriad of monsters that will shortly appear. At least he seems close. 

He has no idea how he’s going to do this. Guaxinim worries too much. Or maybe not too much—just… too explosively. After all, Felps is fairly certain he does like Matt, he just… doesn’t want to be seen with him?

With every passing day back on this earth he understands the people on it less and less. 

At least the chaos they create is entertaining, but it does beg the question—should Felps reveal what he is? Will that calm Guaxinim’s mind? He really didn’t want anyone to know, but maybe…?

Matt knows. Matt definitely knows. The first time they met Matt had looked at him like he could see more—like he could see the haze Felps himself sees when he looks in mirrors—red eyes wide and glittering with wonder as he called him Saint Felps after Felps had introduced himself. 

And that’s already one person more than he would like to know. 

But if Guaxinim is worried about Matt’s demon status reflecting badly on him, he shouldn’t have to. As much as Felps isn’t good at being a Saint, Matt isn’t good at being a demon, either. Anyone on this island will easily see that. 

And somehow he has to convey that without revealing what he is. Because, no, thinking about it—two people knowing is quite enough, thank you. And Guaxinim has sold him out before… maybe. Felps is still unclear on the truth of that situation, but he’s willing to put it mostly behind him. 

Mostly. 

He doesn’t want this information getting out, and Guaxinim can’t be trusted with that right now. He’ll save it for if things really start going wrong. 

Guaxinim jumps out in front of him with a hello on his hands, and Felps barely notices the latter—too busy yelping and recovering from the fright. 

“Hey, Felps.” He repeats, smiling a little too much like he finds this funny. “You okay?”

“What a scare.” Felps lets his hands shake as he signs it, then he weakly pushes at Guaxinim. “For the love of god, Xinim, don’t do that!” 

“Hey, it’s not my fault, right?” Guaxinim complains. “You were too deep in thought—how else was I supposed to get your attention?”

And… Well, he’s right, but Felps isn’t going to admit that. 

“Listen…” Then he sighs, and looks around, and beckons Guaxinim a few steps to the left. “Come here, come here—it’s too exposed there.”

“Okay, okay.” Guaxinim signs as he follows after Felps with a laugh. 

Good. He doesn’t want this to come off like a serious conversation. 

…Even though they have been having serious conversations like this, too. But it at least adds some levity to the situation. 

———

this is about as far as I dare write with how little I currently know… hope you enjoyed though \o/!!

[xxsksxxx]

Almost Heaven

Summary:

Mulder’s attempt to find more exciting cases to investigate while stuck in the bullpen turns into another weekend trip to the forest.

Meanwhile, Scully is faced with a tempting offer that could change both her future and their lives.

This story is complete, and I’m going to post one chapter a day.

AO3 | Back to the Beginning | @today-in-fic

Chapter 11: Almost Heaven

Washington, D.C. Scully’s apartment Sunday, November 29th, 1998, 9:05 pm

Scully raised her arm and checked her watch for what must’ve been the tenth time in the last hour. With a sigh, she got up from the couch and turned the TV off. It was no use anyway. She’d tried reading, she’d tried cleaning, and she’d even gone through her closet, finally putting all the summer clothes in a suitcase and storing them in her basement. The movie she hadn’t been paying any attention to was just the last straw. Nothing made her stop thinking about calling Mulder.

Just call him, she thought, exasperated with herself. You dropped a bomb on him in the car earlier. You might as well call him now instead of waiting for your usual bedtime conversation.

She’d tried all day to not succumb to the temptation to pick up the phone. If she wanted to keep being in Mulder’s life, things needed to change. She’d drive herself crazy if she kept up being caught in the middle between her hopes and reality. He was her best friend, the person she wanted to find truths with and uncover lies. But she had to learn how to accept that what she felt wasn’t the way he thought about her. He needed her in his life as his touchstone—and she wanted him as her romantic partner. And if she didn’t want to end up getting hurt, she needed to get back to treating him like a friend and not like a potential lover.

The thought that they would never be what she had hoped for only a few days ago, pierced her heart, and she swallowed. I’m not a lovesick teenager. I’m going to be alright, she assured herself. They’d been friends for years, and she had loved their relationship. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be able to be just as happy if things went back to the way they had been.

She checked her watch again and shook her head at herself. This was getting ridiculous, she was torturing herself for no reason.

With determent steps, Scully walked towards her phone and carried the portable to her living room window, looking outside. The parked cars lining the street were illuminated by the streetlamps, the wet roofs from the earlier November rain reflecting the light like sparkling stars.

For a second, she thought one of the cars looked like Mulder’s and squinted her eyes, trying to check if she could find her partner. You’re losing your mind, Dana, she thought. Stop seeing him everywhere and just call him already. You’re starting to see ghosts!

With a deep sigh, she pressed speed dial 1 and listened to the phone connect. Mulder picked up after the second ring.

“Hello?” he asked, his voice tense. She had been right, Mulder had probably been agonizing all afternoon about their conversation, and she closed her eyes against the sudden realization that she was the cause of his anguish. I should’ve called him right away, she thought guiltily.

“Mulder, it’s me,” she replied quietly, suddenly as anxious as Mulder, even though she didn’t know why.

“Hey, Scully, everything ok?” he asked immediately, and she kept her tone light.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I know this is not our usual time to call. I hope I’m not interrupting whatever you’re doing?”

“No, no, you’re not interrupting. I was just thinking about the case. You were right. The gunmen couldn’t find anything more on the sighting. It turns out Mr. Murphy is kind of known for having seen—,” he trailed off. “Phenomena.” She could hear the defeat in his voice and wished he was sitting in front of her now so she could touch him. With a shake of her head, she ruthlessly squashed that thought. This was exactly what had gotten her into trouble this weekend. He was her friend. Friends didn’t want to stroke each other’s hair, hug and hold each other, kiss, and touch each other’s bodies. With an internal sigh, she admitted to herself that she had still a long way to go before she was truly going to be in a place where she would be ok with just being Mulder’s friend.

She realized she’d been quiet for a while and focused back on Mulder’s breathing coming through the line.

“I’m sorry, Mulder,” she said seriously. Mulder grunted in acknowledgment, both knowing that there wasn’t much to say about the case anymore.

“So, what have you been up to? Did you have a good rest of the day?” he asked tightly, fishing for any information he could about what she was going to do. She heard a crack through the line and realized that he was eating sunflower seeds.

“Not much, did some chores, did a bit of reading. Pretty uneventful.”

“Did the medical journals have any new interesting mutants?” he joked, and she felt warmth spread through her, happy that he knew her this well.

“Nothing that would be considered an X-File, I’m afraid,” she joked back, feeling the tension slowly dissipate. It was going to be alright, she decided.

The crack of another sunflower seed being snapped open came through the line, and she smiled.

“I made a decision, Mulder,” she said calmly, reminding herself why she had called. “I’m not going to take the job offer.”

Mulder didn’t reply, and she felt the urge to fill the silence with an explanation. “I thought about it and tried to imagine what it would be like. And I realized that I couldn't even imagine it.”

She gripped the phone tighter, feeling her sweaty hand slip on the receiver, uncomfortable to be this open about her feelings. “And I thought about everything we’ve experienced, Mulder. All the things I still want to find, the questions I want answers to.” She took a deep breath and soldiered on. “We’ve got things to get done, Mulder. And I don’t want to do it without you either—not even temporarily,” she finished quietly.

There was a long pause, and finally, she could hear Mulder let out a long breath. “I’m glad, Scully,” he said earnestly, and Scully closed her eyes.

“Well, I’ll let you go then, Mulder,” she breathed, the relief making her nearly dizzy. She waited a moment for his reply, but when it didn’t come, she added a soft ’Good night’ and hung up the phone.

Scully placed the receiver back in its place on the side table and made her way into her bathroom, preparing to get ready for bed. She was exhausted from the emotional roller coaster of the last few days.

Scully was just brushing her teeth and pulling the jar with her nighttime cream from her cabinet, a headband holding her hair back when a soft knock sounded on her front door, and she turned in surprise.

She hardly got unexpected visitors. At least not the ones that knocked, she thought wryly. The only one who ever dropped by this late was—Mulder. Of course. But how could that be? She’d been on the phone with him only ten minutes ago. There was no way he could’ve driven over here in that short amount of time.

She hurried over to the door, and after a brief check through her door viewer, she pulled it open. “Mulder?”

Mulder pushed past her without looking at her, and she closed the door behind him, turning around in surprise. “How did you get here so fast? Did something happen?”

“I was sitting in my car when you called, trying to get up the nerve to come up here,” he explained, starting to pace her living room. She leaned back against the doorjamb, watching him, her brow furrowed.

He suddenly stopped and turned to her, his eyes brimming with emotion. “Why, Scully?” he asked. “I don’t understand. Why did you even have to make a choice?” He pushed his hair back with his fingers and shook his head. “I just don’t get it. You’ve been the one who’s told me that we shouldn’t give up. That we would get the X-Files back if we played our cards right. And Skinner makes one job offer, and you’re doubting everything?” He looked at her with wide, questioning eyes, and she turned her own eyes to the floor.

How could she explain to him that it wasn’t just about that? She did believe they’d get the X-Files back, but she had felt like that was no longer enough. Not anymore. She opened her mouth, then closed it again, struggling for the right words. How could she explain that she had tricked herself into believing she could have it all this weekend—that she had wanted what Dana dreamed of when she was sitting alone on her sofa on lonely Saturday nights? But that was completely on her. How could he have known? “I don’t know, Mulder. I guess—I guess I just felt—like I wanted something else.”

Mulder watched her wordlessly for a moment. “I thought I had made it clear. Back in my hallway a few months ago,” he began, and her eyes flew up to his. “Not just your importance to the X-Files—but also to me. Personally.” His eyes didn’t shy away from hers, and she could see his anguish. “I thought you felt it too.”

Scully’s eyes searched his face for what he was talking about. Of course, she remembered the hallway and everything that nearly happened there. How could she forget? “Felt what too?”

“Oh, come on, Scully. If I remember correctly, you wanted that kiss just as much as I did. Because if you didn’t, let me tell you, you were sure sending mixed signals!” He put his hands on his hips, his body language a clear challenge.

“Yes, Mulder. Yes, I wanted to kiss you. But what does that have to do with this? Why are you here?”

“I just want to understand! How can you even think about walking away from this, from us after everything—after what I told you—” His voice trailed off, and for a moment Scully could see the young boy he must’ve been. His eyes were huge and sad, and despite his confrontational words, she could still hear the vulnerability in his voice.

She took a step forward and placed her hand on his chest, looking up at him. “I wanted that kiss very much, Mulder. But I just don’t understand you sometimes.”

He leaned closer, almost as if he wanted to make sure he wouldn’t miss a word of what she was saying, and that gave her the courage to go on. “Why did you invite me to come along to West Virginia this weekend?”

“Because the gunmen had found Mr. Murphy’s message on an internet site and his memories of the Mothman seemed accurate,” he explained slowly, clearly still not getting where she was going with this.

Scully nodded, her thoughts confirmed. He’d never intended anything personal to happen during the weekend.

Mulder was still watching her, his eyes darting between hers. But he kept silent, so she tried a different route to make him understand. “Mulder, why did you brush me off last night, when I came over to your motel room?” She searched his face, trying to see the truth in his reaction. But Mulder looked utterly confused.

“Brush you off? What do you mean?”

“When I came over to your room, Mulder, when I asked you if you wanted to take a break, spend time together, go out to dinner, maybe go to the movies?” She realized her voice had started to get an edge to it and took a deep breath to calm herself down. This was not Mulder’s fault, she reminded herself. Just because she had thought he’d finally made a move to turn their almost kiss into a getaway weekend with hopefully a real kiss or two, didn’t mean that’s what had been on his mind.

Mulder’s eyes softened, and he brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. “Because I thought we could maybe spend some time together, looking for that Mothman. Reconnect. Remember how much fun we had when we were investigating these cases? How you’d call me crazy—and then go on a boat with me anyway to find Big Blue?” he smiled sadly. “I wanted to see you smile, and have some fun for a change, instead of all the shit details we’re stuck with every day now.” He placed his palm against the side of her face, his thumb stroking her cheek, almost tenderly. “Remember when we were in that cemetery in Bellefleur, Oregon? Our first case? The way you were shaking from the cold and the rain, your lips were blue. And yet you were so excited,” he smiled affectionately at her. “And your laugh. Despite it all, you laughed like you were the happiest person on the planet.” Mulder shook his head and took a deep breath. “Something changed for me that day, Scully. I knew I never wanted to ever do this alone again—and I wanted to have that this weekend. I didn’t want it to end, keep investigating until we were laughing about this case like we did back then.”

He let his arm drop and took a step back. “I guess that’s why I asked you if you wanted to come along. I just wanted to spend the weekend with you. Make you smile, do something exciting together, and maybe even show you a Mothman.”

Scully snorted, and Mulder laughed, reaching over and taking her hand in his. “That’s what I don’t get. You seemed to look forward to the weekend as much as I did. But then something changed. And it seems to be about—,” he paused, looking at her uncertainly, “not being in the mood for pizza?”

Scully just shook her head, squeezed his hand, and pulled him over to her sofa. They sat down together, never letting go of each other’s hands. “It’s not about pizza, Mulder. I guess we didn’t have such different ideas about the weekend after all. I wanted to spend time with you as well. And that Mothman did sound interesting—at least until it started to rain, and I was freezing—in the wrong clothes,” she explained, and Mulder looked chagrined.

“I should’ve told you that you would need hiking gear, shouldn’t I have?” He grimaced, and Scully nodded but didn’t reply. That wasn’t the point she wanted to make, though. “Why didn’t you want me to touch you?” she asked quietly, and Mulder’s brows drew in confusion.

“Didn’t want you—. Scully, what are you talking about?” He grabbed her other hand as well and pulled her closer, their faces only inches apart. “I don’t understand. And I really, really want to. When did I say I did not want you to touch me?”

“When I wanted to see if you’d gotten hurt. You moved away from me so fast, you’d think I’d burned you.” She bent her head down, ashamed of her neediness. She felt like a child, getting rejected over wanting a hug.

Mulder let go of her hand and put his fingers under her chin, lifting her face back to his. “Scully look at me.” When her eyes met his, she could feel them fill with tears, and she swallowed, trying not to let them spill over. This whole emotional roller coaster of a weekend was catching up with her at that moment. “There is never any time when I would not want you to touch me. Trust me on that,” Mulder said earnestly. “The reason I moved away was because I did hit my head pretty hard in the forest, and I didn’t want you to make me go to a hospital to get checked for a concussion.” He gave her a crooked smile.

Scully stared at him in disbelief. “Mulder—,” she started, but he put his finger against her lips to silence her and then bent his head down. “Scully, would you mind checking my head? I think I hit it pretty hard yesterday,” he said quietly, but his voice trembled slightly.

Scully stared at him until a slow smile broke out over her face. She placed her hand on his shoulder and kneeled next to him on the sofa, tenderly brushing her fingers through his hair, carefully inspecting the bump. She gave the back of his neck a little scratch while she was at it, and he raised his face to her, only inches away. Scully let her hands glide to his face, cradling it between her palms. “Your head seems to be fine, Mulder. Although—,” she whispered, but before she could finish whatever she had meant to say, he leaned in and softly covered her lips with his.

With a moan, she pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Mulder didn’t waste any time and lifted her off the couch and into his lap. She felt her heart thunder in her ears and straddled his legs, gripping his hair with both of her hands. He moaned into her mouth and pressed her hips closer to his, jerking against her. This was what she had been hoping for all weekend. It’s still the weekend, her mind filled in helpfully, and she ruthlessly squashed the thought down, far too busy trying to get another moan like the one before out of Mulder.

She felt his hand sneaking under her sweater, stroking up her back, and a wave of heat coursed through him. Scully pulled back slightly, trying to catch her breath while Mulder reached out to pull her in for another kiss, but she put her hand against his chest, softly stopping him from moving in again.

“That’s why, Mulder. That’s what I thought I could never have.” She gave him a soft kiss on his upper lip and followed it with a nibble on his lower lip. “I wasn’t sure if I could keep going day after day, knowing that you didn’t feel for me what I feel for you.”

Mulder leaned his forehead against Scully’s. “You’ll never have to wonder about that again, Scully. Not as long as I’m alive.” He leaned in for another kiss, and she could feel his smile against her lips. Before he could deepen the kiss again, she got off of his lap and held out her hand to him. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, Mulder? I feel like we’ve done enough talking.”

Mulder didn’t need to be told twice.

[emotionalcadaver]

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

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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