#AND MOB DESERVES HIS OWN LIFE HIS OWN HAPPINESS HE DESERVES TO MOVE ON

[grimalkinmessor]

Sometimes I think about the MP100 S3 finale and Reigen saying "You don't need me anymore" but never saying anything about him not needing Mob anymore, how it was basically a goodbye and that's why he started to cry, because he wanted it to last forever, because he's going to miss him more than anything, and the fact that afterwards we skip six months into the future where the city is fixed, where Tome works at Spirits & Such alongside Serizawa, but there are no new desks so it implies that Mob no longer works there, that he's moved on with his life and is only visiting a fond memory by attending Reigen's birthday, making up for the last one he missed, throwing cake in Reigen's face because the reverence is gone they're no longer Master and Disciple but they're still old friends even if they've grown rapidly apart, and how Reigen was holding back tears seeing everyone there but in particular facing Mob's direction, and in the spinoff Reigen looks up at the fake Mob who's still in his school uniform and he doesn't even fight back against it even though he has to know it's not real because he misses those days even though he knows he shouldn't—and then I just

[formulas-bitch]

Meant to be - mob boss Max x sainz/reader

The room was dimly lit, with the flickering light casting eerie shadows across the walls. The scent of burning candles and expensive cologne filled the air, mixing into a haunting aroma that seemed to hang like a veil between the mob boss and his guest. The two men sat across from each other at a massive, polished walnut table, their expressions carefully neutral as they waited for the other to make the first move. This was a meeting that could potentially change the course of both of their lives, and they knew it.

As the tension in the room grew, Max leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, and spoke in a low, steady voice. "So, Carlos, you understand why I've asked you here tonight." It wasn't a question, but he offered it up anyway, his piercing blue eyes boring into Carlos's brown ones. Carlos nodded slowly, trying to maintain his composure. "Yes, Max. I understand. You want to marry my sister."

"And you're not opposed to that?" Max pressed, his expression unreadable. Carlos took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "No, Max. I'm not opposed to it. But I want you to know that I will protect her with my life. If you hurt her in any way, if you make her unhappy, I will find you, and I will make you pay." His voice was low and steady, but there was an undercurrent of menace that could not be ignored.

The mob boss nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "I understand, Carlos. Your sister is very important to you. She's important to me too. I want to make her happy, to give her a life filled with love and luxury. A life she deserves." Max leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. "But I also need to know that you trust me. That you believe I can provide that life for her. and it will bring our two families together"

Carlos studied the mob boss's face for a moment, searching for any hint of deceit. But there was none to be found. Max's expression was open, honest, and filled with a genuine desire to make his future wife happy. Slowly, Carlos nodded. "I do trust you, Max. And I believe that you can give her that life. A life filled with love and protection, just like our parents did." He paused, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And who knows? Maybe our two families will find a way to be together, not just through marriage, but as friends too."

There was a brief moment of silence as the two men contemplated the weight of their words. Then, Max reached out, clasping Carlos's hand in a firm grip. "Thank you, Carlos. I appreciate your trust, and I won't let you down. I promise to make your sister the happiest woman in the world."

The tension began to ease, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and understanding. They spoke for several more hours, discussing their families, their hopes for the future, and the challenges that lay ahead. The candlelight flickered softly, casting dancing shadows across their faces as they shared stories and laughter.

As the night wore on, Max excused himself to make a phone call. When he returned, he was carrying a small, velvet box. He placed it on the table in front of Carlos, and a look of pride and anticipation spread across his face. "Carlos, I wanted to give your sister something special. Something that symbolized not only our commitment to each other, but also to the future that we're building together."

Carlos opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring. It was exquisitely crafted, sparkling in the dim light, and Carlos couldn't help but gasp in awe. "It's beautiful, Max. She's going to love it." He held the ring up, admiring the craftsmanship before slipping it onto his own finger. The two men shared a brief moment of silence, each lost in their own thoughts about the significance of the ring and the promises it represented.

As the evening drew to a close, Max stood up, offering his hand to Carlos. "Thank you, my friend. I appreciate your understanding and support. Together, I truly believe we can build a future that our families will be proud of." Carlos took Max's hand, their grip firm and confident. "I'm honored to stand by your side, Max. And I promise to do everything in my power to make sure our families prosper and grow."

The two men exchanged a final, knowing glance before they parted ways. Max walked out into the cool night air, his shoulders back and his chest puffed out with pride. He knew that the meeting with Carlos had gone better than he could have hoped for. Now, all he had to do was wait for the right moment to propose to Gabriela .

In the meantime, he would continue to focus on his work, ensuring that the criminal empire he had built continued to thrive. He had a team of trusted advisors and lieutenants who helped him run things day-to-day, but he remained the undisputed leader, the one they all looked to for guidance and direction. His word was law, and he took his responsibilities seriously.

Max's thoughts often drifted to Gabriela, wondering what she was doing, if she was happy, and if she had given any more thought to their future together. He couldn't help but feel a sense of possessiveness whenever he thought about her, knowing that he wanted her all to himself. He knew that their marriage would be a complicated one, with their families' pasts hanging over them like a cloud, but he was determined to make it work. He wanted them to have the life that they deserved, filled with love and luxury, and he was willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.

In the midst of his planning and preparation, Max received word that one of their rival gangs was making a move on their territory. He knew he had to handle the situation delicately, as any misstep could lead to all-out war. He called a meeting with his most trusted lieutenants, a group of men who had been with him since the beginning. They discussed strategy and tactics, debating the best course of action. Max listened intently, taking each of their opinions into consideration before making his final decision.

As they planned their counterattack, Max couldn't help but think about Gabriela. He longed to share this news with her, to see the look of admiration in her eyes as he discussed his leadership and strategic thinking. He imagined her telling him how proud she was to stand by his side, how much she loved him and believed in him. The thought of marrying her and starting a family together filled him with a sense of purpose and joy that he had never experienced before.

The meeting concluded with a plan of action, and Max left feeling confident that they would emerge victorious. He couldn't wait to share the news with Gabriela and ask for her support and counsel. He knew that together, they would make a formidable team, able to navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld and build a life of love, luxury, and security for themselves and their families.

As he drove home late at night, Max's thoughts once again drifted to the engagement ring and the moment he would propose to Gabriela. He knew that he wanted to do it in a way that was both romantic and memorable, something that would show her just how deeply he felt for her. He considered taking her on a private jet to a secluded island, where he would have a team of chefs prepare a gourmet meal and a string quartet play their favorite songs. But as he pulled into his driveway, he decided against it. He wanted something more intimate, something that felt special just for the two of them.

The next morning, Max woke up early, anxious to see Gabriela. He had arranged for a private chef to prepare breakfast in bed for the two of them, complete with freshly squeezed orange juice and his favorite croissants. As he waited for her to emerge from the bedroom, he couldn't help but feel a surge of adrenaline, his heart racing with anticipation. When she finally appeared, wearing one of his favorite dresses that showed off her curves, he knew that this was the moment.

With a deep breath, Max got down on one knee and pulled out the engagement ring from his pocket. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with love and devotion, and asked her the question that had been burning in his heart for months. "Gabriela, from the moment I first saw you, I knew that you were someone special. You're beautiful, smart, and strong. You've been by my side through everything, and I want to spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love and appreciate you. Will you marry me?"

Tears welled up in Gabriela's eyes as she looked down at Max, her heart racing with emotion. She felt an overwhelming sense of happiness and love wash over her as she gazed into his sincere eyes. "Max," she whispered, "of course I'll marry you." She reached out and took his hand, gently sliding the ring onto her finger. The sparkle of the diamond in the morning light was a testament to the bright future that lay ahead of them.

They stayed like that for a moment, holding hands and soaking in the happiness that filled the room. Max couldn't help but feel grateful for this woman who had come into his life and given him a reason to believe in love again. He leaned in and kissed her tenderly, his heart swelling with love and devotion. As they continued to embrace, Max felt a pang of guilt as he thought about the rival gang and the challenges that lay ahead. But for now, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in Gabriela's arms and forget about everything else.

Gabriela smiled up at him, her green eyes sparkling with love. "I've been thinking," she said, her voice soft and sultry. "I've always dreamed of having a wedding that was as extravagant as your lifestyle. What do you say? We could have it at one of your private estates, with a guest list that rivals the Forbes list. We could hire the best chefs, designers, musicians… anything you desire. It would be our dream wedding, just like you deserve."

Max's heart skipped a beat at the thought of sharing such a moment with her. "That sounds perfect," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life making you happy, and showing you just how much you mean to me."

As they lay there together, lost in their own little world, Max couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over him. He knew that with Gabriela by his side, they could overcome any obstacle, and that together, they would continue to build their empire and live a life of luxury and love.

[annacory-blog]

Dance or die

I fell in love with another fic by @ulysses000 and then Spotify provided me with a perfect song. I had to draw them to exorcise that image from my head.

As per tradition - below is my attempt in translation. I want to make complete translation so badly (this is probably one third)! I believe this story deserves more attention. But can some kind English speaker confirm it is readable???

Love this fic specially from WoD perspective, it cultivates such delicious feeling of emptiness. And while technically, it has a happy end, you can not get rid of bitter taste of loss. Their requiem is not life, and there no way back. All is gone!

—————————————————-

Music stops abruptly. The dancefloor is silent, mob looks around in bewilderment. All eyes are focused on a flimsy, dirty stage. There, litten by sophites, stands brunette, cladded in a black robe. Calmly she re-adjusts many necklaces and bracelets, adorning her bosom and wrists. She checks microphone, softly tapping it with elegant finger, nonplussed by screeching sound it makes or the yells thrown her way from down the stage. For a while she silently stares in the drunk faces below, until eventually rowdy voices are reduced to quiet, unhappy mumble in the back rows.

-"What would you like to say, before the end of the world?"

-"Go fuck yourself!" - someone yells back from the crowd. Brunette’s smiles softly. Her blue eyes sparkle. This sight will be their last before headless body collapses to the floor.

View from the stage is absolutely terrific. It reminds of a late spring evening in the mansion by the sea. Bodies sway in panic, almost as grass would in a lush fields. Writings on the wall glitter with red as if they were remnants of the sunset caught in clouds. Screams - voices of seagulls. Sweet aroma that spreads across the room reminds of freshly brewed Irish coffee. Eyes locked on the bright fountains. Droplets shimmer in the air with a multitude of colour. Content. Do not argue with Mother. It is a simple rule every kid should know. Because, no matter how kind, gentle and understanding Mother is, she is not all sweets and praises. She also has an iron glove to treat the unruly child. Anyone who dares to confront her will surely drown in their own blood.

-"Now, dance or die."

Music never heard in this walls engulfs space. Stirring voice of the violin is echoed by screams, cello is perfectly complimented by heart-rending howls. Robin is not at all surprised by this harmony of cries and choir chanting. Clocks have just reached zero and this means, time for celebration has finally come. Perfect night to forge a timeless bond between the beloved child and the dear friend. Trafalgar stands on the stage, as if he always was there. Pity no one minds what is happening in the spotlight. He looks tidier than usual, ceremonial. Shirt, tie, three piece suit, shoes - all in various shades of black, all fitted perfectly. His gaze briefly stops on the couple of cadavers lying by the stage, then moves to the brunette.

-"Playing with food, aren’t we?"

-"Tarao, symbolism never was one of your strengths." - She smiles softly and shakes her head, - "Don’t try to grasp, what is beyond you. Just think of it as a cog in the well oiled machine."

Flowers on wreath along the walls move, as if troubled by the gust of wind, candle lights flicker, and blond man appears by Robin’s side. Sanji fiddles with the hem of his suit anxiously, fixes invisible wrinkles on the bouquet wrap. Trafalgar thought he put more than enough efforts to look decent tonight, however he wouldn’t stand a chance if this was a competition. Sanji's clan has been know for this aura of perfection, but even among his kin - he is special. Where the rest emmit light of the full moon, Sanji’s light would blind you as hot summer sun in zenith. He holds ten white roses - stark contract against his black suit. Pale of petals resonates with pale of the skin, highlights the gold of his hair. Trafalgar cannot possibly look away and no disciplines are to blame for this magic. Little smile slips from under his control “this is beautiful” he thinks.

-"Sorry for being late" - blond tuck one long golden lock behind the ear. Eyes drift towards the dance floor, but do not linger there. Woman chuckles softly - so innocent.

-"I was worried you made your escape."

-"Please, don’t ruin the moment" - gaze of his blue eyes seems to be glued to the wooden planks of the stage, then he looks up, eyes meet with Robin’s.

They nod, almost simultaneously, and only after Sanji musters enough of courage to look to the other man. His gaze shamelessly devours all the minute details he can grasp, it is hard to tell, if he desperately tries to avert attention from the bloodbath on the dance floor, or genuinely admires the sight. Trafalgar thinks he would be happy with both reasonings. Laws lips move soundlessly forming few words. Sanji chuckles and replies in the same manner: “you too, idiot”.

-"Ladies and Gentlemen." - maybe a dozen of eyes flicker back in response to sweet, calm voice of the woman. Short break taken from tormenting the flesh, generously soaked with blood and tears. Bodies contort with the fear for their life. - "Tonight, before the Dark Mother’s eyes, souls of two cursed sons of hers will be united. Every kindred present here shall witness the making of endless, mutual death." - her eyes run across the dance floor, reading the mood of the guests. - "the Vinculum should not be broken. Anyone who dares an attempt to weaken the bond will be hunted by The Circle of the Crone," - she looks for a moment into particularly dark corner - "as well as by our brothers and sisters from Ordo Dracul."

Her gaze shifts to the dark haired man, waiting for him to return the attention.

-"Now you can speak your vows."

Trafalgar makes a step forward, reaches to touch cold pale fingers, swallows heavily before he starts to speak.

-"I, Trafalgar D Water Law, hereby take Vinsmoke Sanji into my Requiem forever." - envelops his hand gently and carefully - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor. When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Sanji chuckles quite and bright - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking." - He squints, eyes slit, as if targeted by bright lamp. - "When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort, and when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance." - Cool fingers caress back side of the hand. - "This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

In his blue eyes flashing light reflects, candles burning twice as bright with the last spoken words. Law squises cold hand, trying to reassure, give comfort, prevent flashes from setting kindred's mind aflame.

-"I, Vinsmoke Sanji, hereby take Trafalgar D Water Law into my Requiem forever." - his voice sweetest thing that ever touched ears, in both life and un-life, - "I swear before all that is holy and all that is unholy that we, tonight, seal our fates by bonds of dedication and honor." - His fleeting touch playfully skims through tan fingers, icy sensation brings sober clarity and bliss of inebriation at the same time. - "When my partner is hungry, I will bring food." - Law’s smile is barely there. - "When my partner sleeps, I will watch and bear witness upon waking. When my partner is afraid, I will give comfort," - he is the most gentle and kindhearted, so much is obvious in every syllable of every word. - "And when my partner is wronged, I will have vengeance. This I swear on the blood, and the flame and the spirit."

Sanji’s hold on the hand gets firmer as he expects another rise of firy glow to radiate the room. Little girl steps forward from behind the stage, she is silent and obedient. So small, seven years at most, her deep chocolate eyes glazed with indifference, strawberry blond hair braided in two pig tales, white gown hugs fragile figure. She stares ahead absently, woman’s hands leading her by shoulders.

-"Time to make the sacrifice." - hand outstretched to pass the ritual knife. Fingers gently support ragged blade.

Trafalgar feels how kindred’s claws pierce his skin. He might have broken few bones, if older wouldn’t strengthen his grip in response. It is heard for Sanji. This is easily seen, his eyes shift frantically, his lips stripped of smile and crooked. Even his touch feels colder than before. He never have taken the life of a sentient being. Even in death Sanji remained pure, his hands and soul unmarred by murder of mortals. Law knows other is hurting, in his eyes this child is seen as a spit image of the older sister. Trafalgar himself lost in the shattered memories for a moment. Girl reminds his late sister, who died too young too long ago. Despite that he knows he will have enough resolve to put this innocent child to rest, as she obediently waits for her own demise.

This is essential part for the completion of the ritual. Sanji knows it. This is not news, but he can’t keep his long dead heart from burning and spasming disgusted by creeping acceptance. He was the one who proposed marriage. He organized most of the celebration. He thought about it many times, about this particular moment he has to take someone’s life, scenario played in his head on repeat. But it is not something you can be prepared for. This is wedding. They are about to enter mutual un-life, their souls are to be bound for the eternal death, forfeiting innocence, killing personification of their past. Together.

His hand is shaking, but Sanji hides it, only grip on the hilt gets stronger. Her face is gentle and soft, with neat childish features, but her eyes are dead already, trapped under Mother’s hypnotic influence. Embroidery on the gown matches hair colour. She looks like a little princess. Sanji forgets to imitate the leaving, his thorax freezes mid inhale, mechanical movement abandoned. He thought he would be able to do it, to confront the past, to kill for the sake of something new, for the sake of future. But this first step is terrifying. All his being is trapped, Staring in the eyes of the Beast, unable to move. Sanji doesn’t want to lose his humanity, he is afraid to slip, to get comfortable with the idea of supremacy over humans, his own strength, his right to take life. Few months in his death, as soon as fog of newly obtained supernatural powers thinned, allowing him to think clearly again, he made a decision to give his all to keep whatever “human” have left in this damned shell of the body. Once he got accustomed with business run by The Circle of the Crone, he found plenty of friends in each and every city morgues and knew without failure when fresh carcasses were delivered to local butcheries. When ritual required freshly drawn blood he used his own vite with no second thought. And now all workarounds are closed, blocked by unmovable boulders. Only one way ahead.

-"We are both dead. It’s not going to get any worse." His whisper is scolding hot against the skin, it reminds to expand lungs, air forced in with fake inhale. Warm palm touches softly, fingers carefully wrap around the hand that holds the hilt, the touch reassures, hand redirected slightly - outward and up.

-"Beheading is better."

For once Sanji is genuinely grateful that Trafalgar never listens and reads his thoughts at any given moment. -"One." He angles cutting edge . -"Two." Skin is burning hot -"Three." Thud. Mortal dread frozen in the eyes of the dead girl.

_________________________

And song that was a catalyst for all the efforts

[onewholivesinloops]

Anyone who defends Teppei or pities him has to be such a loser like there’s so so much misogyny in taking the abusive pedophiles side in comparison to the child he tormented

“Ohhhh poor teppei :((“ it’s a grown man who deserves it, get a life

LITERALLY. Imagine sympathizing with the fucking piece of shit abuser over his victim. I don't care if he's trying to be a better person now, his feelings should never be prioritized over the child he hurt deeply.

I'm also sorry for using this as an opportunity to ramble but...

Satoko killing this new version of Teppei who's willing to change for the better for her sake is one of my favorite Higurashi and WTC moments of all time??????????

It's so fucking satisfying as much as it's really interesting.

Like, going back to Satokowashi after Satoko gained looping powers. She started viewing fragments as dispensable because there's always another fragment. She writes off every world except the final one as a mere delusion. They're not any different from "dreams" to her. Those are dissociative tendencies. She's dissociating by detaching herself from emotions such as guilt and empathy because it makes things easier to deal with. It's a trauma response and it's innately connected to her PTSD. She's always struggled with maintaining a consistent internal reality, and she's always thought it's no use trusting and relying on others and that it's best to shut off one's mind to get through traumatic events. It's also why when she blames St. Lucia, she blames Rika. And when she does horrible things to her friends it's excusable in her mind because everything is rotten and untrustworthy anyway.

She's clinging to the ideal of a perfect, happy final world because it's what she craves after what she went through at St. Lucia where she was tormented and had no emotional support, but if she comes to the realization that she's really hurting others by doing this she's going to fall apart. And isn't this reformed Teppei, a change in Satoko's lived reality that she herself said was inconceivable to her, the biggest threat to this maladaptive coping mechanism?

Satoko killing Teppei is basically all the bottled in rage and fury and the dissociation from any part of her world being real. She kills him with her own hands then bludgeons his corpse and it speaks to the idea of rejecting a love that doesn't exist and rejecting others to avoid rejection. Satoko destroys the Satoko of that fragment through killing a Teppei that never existed for her, one that was never even meant to, which is why she defiles and vilifies him so aggressively and thoroughly. The Teppei she knows would never do this so she rejects him as well as the part of her self that tried to embrace that. The Satoko that doesn't want to kill Teppei is just a new self formed outside of her original intent because it's just a theory/fantasy instead of reality as none of this was ever real in Satoko's world. Everything has already happened for our Satoko. She is already the culmination of Teppei's abuse and that's something that cannot be changed. She cannot find it in herself to move past Teppei's abuse and the resentment therein.

I really enjoy Tatariakashi as a whole because it's Satoko writing a play where she manipulates everything in such a way so that Ooishi and the police would suspect and blame the protesting civilians, and in doing so it actually becomes a play where Hinamizawa becomes the very mob that did in fact affect her for years by ostracizing her and treating her as a cursed child.

It's Satoko's ultimate form of repayment for how long it took before any actions were taken in terms of trying to save her or just no longer treating her as a scapegoat. And I really enjoy the political angle of all this because it's a critique of the community that has always been failing Satoko, and it also acknowledges how Ooishi and the police perpetuate Satoko and her family's treatment as outcasts by treating them as a means to an end in their own plans.

It's also all about how Satoko prefers to cling to the known trauma over the unknown.

It's her revenge fantasy coming to a head because she kept growing more angry and detached. It's so good. Satoko is so good.

[the-bar-sinister]

A Song for Ragpickers and Urchins (23561 words) by VickytheSnake, Dave Strider Chapters: 6/?

Summary: When a small-time band of young rogues and thieves take in a lost and lonely fallen noble their twisted star finally begins to rise. Urchins, vagabonds and slaves take up a scoundrel's life under a common banner— the jolly roger Donquixote— to claw their way to something like happiness in the miserable, cold-hearted factory towns of the North Blue.

catch up here

-

Trebol was thrilled to witness Doffy's resilience and drive over the next few days as they made ready to leave the island. He could easily have moped or sulked– and he would certainly have deserved time to gather his strength after such a crushing blow– but instead he seemed eager to do, and to learn, and to put the past behind him. Trebol chalked this too up to Doffy's innate strength and fitness for leadership and wasted no time in occupying him and bringing him up to speed with their activities.

Doffy sat by his side with an eager, attentive expression as Trebol talked, and Trebol wrapped an arm around his shoulder both protectively, and conspiratorially as he did so. It was already becoming clear that the boy's affection was both spoken and received in terms of physical touch, and given that he didn't recoil from Trebol's– quite the opposite– Trebol was more than pleased to accommodate him.

He explained that for the moment the gang's primary occupation was in the illegal acquisition and negotiation of illicit goods; stealing and selling stolen and black market items, or purchasing them from other thieves and fencing them for a higher price. Devil fruits were a highly profitable part of this business– though a rare one, increasingly rare lately.

After a full explanation, during which Doffy's interest and intrigued expression never wavered, he impressed Trebol with his keen insight and understanding.

"Stealing and selling is riskier, isn't it?" He asked, leaning on his hand. "Because you're more likely to be caught. But then again, if you're buying and then selling it, there's a risk you won't find a buyer at a higher price?"

"Very good, young master!" Trebol declared, delighted. "Stealing is the greater material risk– to life and limb and freedom, of course; and fencing– that's selling goods someone else stole– is a higher monetary risk."

"And we do both."

Trebol was ecstatic to hear Doflamingo including himself in their crooked bunch. Doffy, their own exiled god, patron of thieves and vagabonds.

"We do both," he agreed, grinning widely. "It's important to have flexibility in our line of work."

Doffy nodded, quite seriously. "Tell me some other things that are important!"

He was more than happy to oblige.

-

As business wound down in preparation for moving on, Diamante had less to do in town. He filled his free time practicing his sword techniques and was outright embarrassed by how much Doffy seemed to enjoy watching him.

"Brilliant!" "Wonderful!" "Amazing!"

Every time the kid complimented him, Dia felt a bashful rush of pride that he played off, waving his hands. He wasn't that good. Maybe a little better than average, that's all.

But Doffy would insist– absolutely insist– which both flustered and pleased Dia even more, until he finally relented and accepted the praise. He couldn't remember a time where anyone had thought quite so highly of him and his skills, and he felt a little drunk to think that Doffy of all people was genuinely impressed.

It didn't take long for it to turn into a little routine between them, and finally Dia satisfied both his pride and his bashfulness by teaching Doflamingo in return as best he could.

Doffy was an eager pupil he discovered, but admittedly, not a particularly talented one.He had amazing skills elsewhere, but between his bad eye, and his wobbly footing— Dia suspected that his legs might never fully recover from the mob— the kid clearly struggled.

Doffy looked miserable after the tenth time Dia had easily knocked the blade out of his hand. He was limp, and unsmiling. Diamante wouldn't admit it in blunt terms, but he did feel a sting of pride to be better at something than the celestial dragon. But he sure as hell didn't want him to feel bad about it.

He put his hand on Doffy's shoulder warmly, and bent down to him. "Hey, Doffy, don't worry about it. It's not like you even need to be good with a sword, right? Between your haki and your fruit?"

"Yeah, but—"

Dia squeezed him. "But nothing. You already have a swordsman. You need somebody skewered? You call me, and I'm right there. Any time, day or night, your hero."

The adoring look on Doffy's face as he stared up at him flustered and pleased him even more than all the compliments. 

-

One of the many reasons Pica found that he liked Doffy so much was that Doffy didn't mind at all that he was quiet. When they were alone together, Doffy happily filled the silence with the sound of his voice– which Pica thought was much nicer than his own– and didn't need any particular prompting from him to continue talking. Doffy had much more interesting things to say than he did, anyway and Pica was fascinated by him, even charmed. He was too embarrassed to say that directly, of course.

On the day before they were to leave Downs, Pica was packing up a few boxes to be taken to the ship while Doffy sat with him, swinging his legs back and forth and talking about the things Trebol had been teaching him about haki and about being a criminal. After Pica had finished all the packing he came and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of Doffy's chair, just looking up while he talked.

Doffy put his feet on top of Pica's knees.

He broke off his monologue. "Hey, Pica…"

"Yeah, Doffy?" 

"Thanks for listening."

Pica glowed. Doffy didn't continue immediately, and for a moment he wasn't sure if he expedited an answer. He was relieved when Doffy just continued, instead, since he had no idea how to thank him.

"And thank you for looking so hard for my brother. Corazon said you were out for hours and hours and I—" he broke off again, and Pica felt Doffy's toes curl against his bare knees. "I'm just glad I know someone as cool and determined as you."

Pica felt like he might faint.

-

They finally started moving again, leaving behind the dingy town where everything had started, though they stayed, for the moment, at the northern tip of the archipelago. As they worked, Trebol made no secret that he was grooming Doffy not just to become the face of their operation, but for leadership, and it was obvious that he was good at it.

Doflamingo had a way with people, something– presumably his conqueror's haki– that made even adult criminals think twice before crossing him. He was composed, confident and regal. When it counted, anyway. Among the five of them, Doffy's manner was relaxed and friendly, and Vergo found himself spending a lot of time with him.

He was charming as he was friendly, and there was something about the way he went from cold to their enemies and outsiders and seemed to immediately melt with them that made Vergo feel special.

Vergo wanted to be there for him, and be there for him he was. The two of them fell into an easy patter of laughter and shared joy where the other gangsters couldn’t see. If Doffy was going to be their leader— and he was, there was no doubt about that— then Vergo wanted to be his right hand. 

Doflamingo himself seemed perfectly content with the unspoken arrangement. Vergo would find himself tugged closer with a few pale threads whenever Doffy had decided that Vergo had gotten too far away, and sometimes when it was time for bed– or even in the middle of the night when he'd been sound asleep– Doffy would demand that Vergo come and sleep in his bed.

All of them knew that Doffy had nightmares. It would have been impossible not to know, with the screaming.

It wasn’t even hard to imagine what they could be about. So Vergo slept in his bed whenever the ‘young master’ requested it. He could be a reassuring weight, a presence and a reminder that he was here and now and not back in the fires or whatever other horror show they hadn’t seen.

He never minded it at all. 

Vergo had shared a bed with Pica before, in the orphanage, and afterward, and Pica could be clingy, but he wasn't cuddly the way Doffy was. Doffy would rest his chin on Vergo's shoulder. Would put his arms around him, would play with his hair.

He couldn’t have imagined someone clingier, cuddlier than Pica, and yet Doffy surprised him. He didn’t admit it out loud, but he thought Doffy must have known that something about the casual affection made him happy.

He didn’t admit out loud that night spent with the cuddly ‘young master’ were the best nights of sleep he’d ever had. 

It was interrupted only rarely by screaming.

-

Trebol was pleased with the way their little gang was rising. Finally quit of Downs, the next few months were some of their most lucrative thus far, and no small amount of that was due to Doffy, whom Trebol was more and more considering his protege— one who was meant to surpass him in every way, and tug him along in the wake of his glory. Trebol's sharp intellect and villainous instincts were wasted on his crippled body, but Doffy— strong, beautiful, godly little Doffy— could flourish under the nurturing of Trebol's wisdom like a flower of criminal wickedness. They needed one another.

Sometimes that was more apparent than others.

Trebol had begun taking Doffy along on deals almost immediately. The young master had a keen insight for weakness and deceit, and an instinct for just when and how to needle their fellow criminals to yield better prices, or more information. Such contributions instilled more confidence in Trebol in Doflamingo's obvious potential.

But there were unfortunate incidents that reminded him that he was still raw materials. Still a child.

The day after they'd concluded a rather lucrative deal with a local smuggler Trebol was penning notes and looking through illegally purchased ships manifest copies in their new offices when Doffy stumbled into the room with a bruised cheek and a bloody nose.

Trebol was immediately on his feet and shuffling over to him. He leaned down and put his arm on his shoulder.

"Doffy! How'd you get hurt?"

Doffy leaned against him, resting his head under his arm. His scowl was angry and frustrated, and his young voice was thick with pain and confusion. "Some thug beat me up," he whined. "People like that ought to be killed."

Doffy needed to work on controlling his conqueror's haki and his devil fruit. It was a fact which Trebol was sure that the boy was already painfully aware of. Reminding him of it would serve no purpose other than to further humiliate him; something Trebol had no interest in doing. Far from it. What Doffy needed was strength and confidence and comfort. To know that his family— that Trebol— would be there for him, no matter what.

"They certainly ought to be," Trebol agreed, frowning. He petted and stroked Doffy's hair as he knew the boy liked. "There there. Tell me about this thug. I'll take care of it immediately."

Doffy hadn't recognized him, but Trebol immediately did from his description. It was one of the cronies of the smuggler that they'd dealt with the night before. Trebol suspected that the man's ego couldn't handle being gotten the better of by a child and a cripple and had decided to take his irritation out on the one that he considered the weak link.

Trebol intended to punish him for that. They'd start with the flunky who'd dared to lay a hand on the young master.

He kissed Doffy's hair, and he wiped the blood off of his face with a damp, cool rag, and he sat with him for a little while saying soothing things while Doffy nursed the bruise on his cheek. Once he was settled, he called Vergo and Pica in to sit with him, and Trebol grabbed the gun from his desk drawer.

One less thing to tip this flunky's boss off to the direction that trouble was coming from if he didn't use his powers.

Trebol made his way to the nearby pub where the criminals and pirates liked to carouse, and easily found the man he was looking for by description alone. He hadn't bothered bringing Diamante with him for such a small matter; by this point Trebol was confident enough in his own ability that he was hardly afraid of being gotten the better of by some worthless thugs.

It was easy enough to get the man alone— Trebol just told one of his associates that he was looking to pay him back some money. Trebol waited in the little downstairs rented room that stank of smoked drugs, bad sex, and worse wine.

When the man and his associate came in, Trebol waited only as long as it took for them to close the door before he shot both of them cold on the ground.

He sneered down at the bodies in their pools of blood and filth. Pathetic, slow witted criminals like these, with no wit or ambition— they weren't fit to lick the scum off of Doffy's shoes. Hell, they weren't fit to lick the scum off of his own shoes, either. They were nothing.

Trebol grabbed the hat that belonged to the man who'd attacked Doffy, and he took both of the dead men's purses and weapons, tucking them away under his thick coat. He wiped his face with a rag in case of stray blood spatter, and he left. On his way out, he handed the manager of the pub a generous tip.

The next day when he saw Doffy, Trebol wordlessly handed him the hat, and he watched as his smile lit up like a beacon.

-

"He's dead?" Doffy peered up at Trebol, his one good eye wide with excitement.

"As dead as you declared that he ought to be, young master," Trebol chortled. "I promised that I'd take care of it for you, didn't I?"

Doffy's heart soared. It hadn't even been a particularly bad beating. Doffy had been cornered and caught, and beaten and hurt way worse than that before, and no one had been there to protect him. His father had looked at him like he was slime for even suggesting that the people who'd hurt him ought to pay for their crimes.

But Trebol had just gone and killed the man. Like it was nothing. Like it was just what was supposed to happen.

Doffy threw himself on Trebol, hugging him through the thick coat. "You're the best, Trebol!"

"Anything for you, Doffy," he cooed. Doflamingo nuzzled his hand while Trebol petted his hair, basking in the feeling of attention and safety. "I have to apologize to you, though."

"Huh? What for?" he peered up at him in confusion.

"I found out why that man attacked you, and it was my fault."

"It wasn't just random?" Doffy's brow furrowed. 

It hadn't even occurred to him that there might have been a reason behind the assault. He was so used to the last two years of constantly being pursued and attacked it just seemed normal for someone to want to hurt him for no reason. That was why his instinct to get away had kicked in before he'd thought to use his strings or his haki to fight back. The man had instantly sent him back to all those moments on the run with Rosi and all he could think to do was run.

Trebol shook his head. "Not random. That man worked for the smuggler that you and I met with night before last."

Doffy froze as the moment came back to him. "Mr. Cagney? The idiot who thought he could intimidate us?"

"The very same, the very same," Trebol murmured nodding. "It seems he didn't like us getting a decent price out of him and wanted to pay us back for it."

"That filthy bastard," Doffy hissed. He sulked, leaning against Trebol as he thought it over. "He sent that man after me, then. Does that mean he thought I was weak?"

"He did," Trebol said, holding him close. Doffy felt a sick feeling in his stomach. Weakness. He didn't want to be weak. He didn't want anyone to think he was weak. "But he was wrong, young master."

"I hate it," Doffy hiss, his nails digging into Trebol's coat. "I hate that he even thought I was weak. I hate that I– that I just ran away. I should have shown him my power."

"Hey, hey, young master, it's alright," Trebol cooed. "You're still learning to control the great power that you have inside you. It'll take time before everyone knows how amazing you are."

"I want them to know right now!" Doffy insisted, feeling heat stinging his eyes behind his glasses. "I don't want anyone thinking I'm somebody weak they can beat up."

Trebol chuckled softly, and his cool fingers traced over the warm bruise on Doffy's face. He leaned into his touch. "Let's show them, then, Doffy. Let's show them what happens when they mess with you. It'll be a chance for you to practice with your power."

Doffy's heart thumped in his chest as he looked eagerly up at him. "What are we going to do?"

"Ehehe. We're going to kill Mr. Cagney of course."

-

Cagney's gang had a hideout near the waterfront. Trebol arranged an appointment, and this time he showed up with the whole gang. When he and Doffy were ushered into the office, Dia, Pica and Corazon stayed outside in the main area. They'd discussed the entire play. Dia would wait about five minutes, and then the three of them would slaughter the whole Cagney smuggling gang while Doffy and Trebol taught their boss a lesson he wouldn't have a chance to put into practice.

"I'm surprised to see you back so soon, haha," Cagney chuckled, settling behind his desk. He didn't ask them to sit, and he didn't offer them a drink. "And here I thought you didn't like me as a business partner."

"Well, you can't always choose who you do business with, can you?" Trebol said, leaning on the man's desk. "You're the man filling the chair for smuggling in this town, so until that changes, people have to do business with you. Which I'm sure is how you like it."

Cagney snickered nastily and Trebol watched as his gaze flicked to Doffy, who was standing quietly half behind the hem of Trebol's coat.

"You're smart enough for a man of your type, Trebol. That's right, I'm the man at the top around here," Cagney said. "Did your little errand boy get roughed up? What a shame. Maybe pick a sturdier one up at the slave market."

"Shut up, corpse!" Doffy snapped, hissing like a cat as he took a step forward out from Trebol's protection.

Cagney's eyes flared. "What did you say to me, kid?"

Trebol smiled as outside, he heard the first sounds of violence. He took his pistol out of his coat and calmly aimed it at the smuggler's head.

"He said, 'shut up, corpse'," Trebol repeated. He chuckled wickedly. "Go ahead, Doffy. Just like we talked about."

-

Doffy's breath was heavy, whether from exertion of his power or just enjoying what he was doing, he wasn't sure. His glasses had slipped down on his nose, as he watched Cagney writhing miserably and wretchedly on the floor like a worm.

Beautiful threads were wound all around him. They tied his wrists and ankles tight, and they wound around his fingers. There, the threads cut razor sharp and drew blood that was leaking into the scarred, cracked wood of the low rent office floor. The smuggler twitched and squirmed; he shouted curses and threats, but no help came. 

Doffy wiggled his fingers. The strings tightened again, drawing more of the man's blood.

"Very good, Doffy, very good," Trebol cooed, looming over his shoulder. "Now his throat. You'll need lots of threads for that, Doffy. You want to choke him, not slice him."

"Got it." Doffy glowed, basking under the praise, and giggling at the man's pathetic wriggling and shouting. He tugged his fingers again and threads began to wrap their way around the man's gawky throat just above the collar of his ugly shirt.

It was only then that the man started to beg. From outside the office, there was more screaming and smashing.

That only made Doffy laugh harder.

This was nothing like killing his father. Killing his father had been miserable. Terrifying and sickening. In the end, it had left him numb and cold; all it had been was a heavy task that had to be performed. One that occasionally still had him sweating in the night.

This was nothing like killing the soldiers as he fled from Mary Geoise. That had been all frantic panic and instinct. He'd barely even been conscious of it at the time— it had made him a little sick—- and the achievement only pleased him in hindsight when he'd been recounting the tale to the others.

No, killing Cagney was different.

Killing Cagney was a pleasure. The smuggler Doffy barely knew, who had tried to cheat them in their deal the first time they'd met. Who had sent thugs to rough Doffy up thinking he was weak. Who thought he was better than them. Who was, as Trebol had said to him before they came, not even fit to lick either of their shoes.

Cagney deserved to suffer and die, and before he died he'd know that he'd know that he had been wrong about Doffy. He'd know that Doffy was strong.

Doffy grinned brightly, watching as his thousand glittering threads wound tightly around the man's throat like a shining ribbon. He crooked his fingers and the threads squeezed tighter and Cagney's face started to turn blue as he gasped and choked and wheezed. He thrashed on the floor, unable even to clutch at his throat with his bloody hands entirely under the power of Doffy's strings.

"Almost, Doffy," Trebol cooed. "Keep it up just a little longer."

Doflamingo took a deep breath and a shudder rolled through him. He held his power trained on the filthy, twitching man. His ragged gasps had been completely cut off, replaced with a croaking noise that slowly died in his throat. His face turned fascinating colors, and finally, he stopped moving completely.

A rather nasty smell filled the room, and Doffy turned up his nose.

"Did I do it, Trebol?" he asked eagerly

Trebol leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Beautifully done, young master. He won't be getting up again. You can relax."

Doffy shivered again, glowing under the praise. His strings vanished and he relaxed back against Trebol's legs.

"We sure showed him, huh?" Doffy giggled. "That was a lot of fun."

"You truly rose to the occasion, Doffy," Trebol said. He clumped over and delivered a swift kick to the corpse's side, before going to rifle through his desk. "Keep practicing your powers like that, and you'll be able to kill with hardly a thought."

The promise of that kind of power was heady, and it made Doffy swoon. He bit his lip and wandered carefully over to the desk to watch Trebol work.

"I'll keep practicing," he promised. "What are we gonna do about… all this stuff?"

Trebol smiled broadly. "We're going to take it, my dear young master. Everything that's worth taking. His money, his information, his contacts— all of it."

The thought excited him. "I guess he really was worth more dead than alive."

"So indeed, Doffy, so indeed."

-

"Doffy seems happy," Diamante said with a smirk as he lit up a cigarette. He had a hell of a supply for now, after taking the packs off the smuggler cronies they'd killed earlier in the evening. They were back at their own hideout now, and Dia was watching Trebol go through the stack of papers and logbooks he'd brought with them.

"He does," Trebol cooed, leafing through pages. "And he was brilliant, Dia. A natural born killer. I ought to thank Cagney for the opportunity he afforded us, really."

Trebol laughed an ugly laugh and Diamante snickered with him. "I can't say I didn't appreciate the chance for some exercise. We were getting out of practice laying low for so long in Downs. That was a lot of corpses though."

"It was," Trebol nodded. He looked up with a sly smirk. "But the local constabulary will thank us for it. Or rather, they'll be thanking the bounty hunter I tipped off who'll be taking credit for the massacre."

Dia rapped his knuckles on the table. "Okay, okay, I have to admit it, Tre. That's clever."

"Thank you. You did a masterful job with the crowd yourself."

"Oh it was nothing," Dia shook his head. "With Vergo and Pica's help it was hardly worth my time."

Trebol waved a hand. "So you say. In any case, this is an excellent opportunity for us.Cagney had a lot of contacts."

"Will they want to work with us?" Diamante asked. It seemed like a longshot, cleaning up and taking over the business dealings of a gang they'd just slaughtered.

"I don't know why they shouldn't," Trebol chuckled. "After all, their local contact was just obliterated by some bounty hunter. They'll need to get a good in with whoever picks up the pieces." 

"Huh, good point. Guess it's all coming up roses for us."

"For Doffy," Trebol said with a thick smile. "We've been on the rise since he came back to us."

"Not gonna deny that," Dia said, puffing on his cigarette. He liked Doffy. He liked him a lot. They had a lot in common, taking turns giving each other little compliments, though Doffy was much more gracious about it than he was. And now it seemed they had one more thing in common. "You said that he's a natural born killer?"

"Oh yes, you should have seen the look on his face while Cagney was squirming," Trebol recounted with glee. "It was marvelous."

Dia chuckled and blew out a breath of smoke. "Kid knows how to have a good time."

[fandomwritings-cm13]

Wife of a Future Mob Boss (Dark!Bucky Barnes, Dark!Steve Rogers) - Chapter 2

Summary: Bucky must find a wife for himself and have children with her in order to take his father’s position as head of the mob. When Bucky makes no move on his own, his father takes things into his own hands. Lilly Slater and her roommate Demi are taken before Mr. Barnes, and what happens next shocks them both.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x OC, Steve Rogers x OC

Word Count: 2949

Warnings: dark themes, cursing, mentions of violence (future), noncon and rape, cursing, toxic relationships, Stockholm syndrome (if you squint, more to come later), SMUT

This chapter contains smut. DO NOT READ if you are uncomfortable with reading smut OR are under the age of 18!!! By clicking “Keep Reading,” you agree to these statements.

“Why are there two? Didn’t I send you for one?” the older man questions.

“It was difficult to tell which you wanted, sir,” one of the men sheepishly answers.

The older man turns to the brunette. “What do you think, James?”

The brunette looks at both me and Demi, his expression revealing absolutely nothing.

Fuck.

I shift uncomfortably, praying this is all some strange dream I’ll jolt awake from soon. A second later, I feel Demi’s hand take mine, and it draws my gaze down to my lap. I then look at her, biting the inside of my lip as tears well up in my eyes. She squeezes my hand for a second as she smiles gently at me.

“Take her away,” the older man orders.

Two men grab Demi, and she grips me a little tighter.

“Let go of me, you bastards!” She shouts, kicking at them. “I’m not leaving without her!”

“You’re more than welcome to die here then,” the older man states coldly, causing Demi to freeze and look at him. “There’s nothing you can do for your friend, except perhaps leaving peacefully.”

Demi sneers at him. “I’ll get her out of here. She doesn’t deserve this.”

The man chuckles. “You won’t be alive long enough to enjoy having her back if you do anything, even breathe a word of this to anyone.”

My heart sinks in my chest at my fate, and now Demi’s, too. She looks at me, reaching out. Before I can grab her hand, she’s yanked away and practically dragged out of the room.

“James, take her up to your room for the night,” the man orders.

James comes around the desk and grabs my arm, lifting me from my seat and dragging me out of the room. His pace is quick, so I struggle to keep up.

“Couldn’t you slow down a little?” I snap.

He chuckles, the sound falling from his lips without any genuine amusement. “You’re in no position to be having an attitude, doll.”

“I don’t know who you guys are or what you want, but if you let me go, I won’t tell anyone a thi-”

“As lovely as that sounds, my father has made a decision, and he won’t back down on it unless you give him a reason to.” He stops at a door and finally looks me in the eye. “I would advise you not to though. It’d only serve to complicate my life further.”

He drags me into the room and shuts the door behind him. Once the door is closed, he turns to me and pulls out a knife.

“If you don’t want me, then why am I here?” I ask sharply, doing my best to appear strong despite how uncomfortably my heart is racing.

He cuts the binding around my wrists then looks me in the eye once again. “In order to take over for my father, he has certain requirements for me. The primary one is having a wife and at least one child. That’s where you come into things. I, however, want nothing to do with marriage. I’m quite happy with how I’ve lived my life thus far, and having you around won’t change that.” He studies my eyes for a couple seconds. “I sleep with who I want, when I want, and there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind.”

The door opens, but James doesn’t turn to see who it is. I look over his shoulder to see the dirty blonde who stood beside him earlier. He, however, lingers by the door.

“Is my father satisfied, Steve?” James inquires, his gaze still trained on me.

“For now, at least,” the other man replies, crossing his arms over his chest.

James smirks. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.”

He grabs my wrists and pulls me into him, his lips going to my ear. I can clearly see Steve across the room, and it makes me blush how he’s watching us.

“You and I will be fucking every day, whenever I feel like it, until you fall pregnant,” James whispers. “After that, you’re no longer my problem. I go back to fucking around with whoever I want.” He pulls away and smirks at me, his voice normal when he continues speaking. “Steve will be taking care of you then. Is that clear?”

I glare up at him. “You must be stupid to think I want anything to do with you!”

I try to pull my wrists out of his grip, but he only tightens his hold and pulls me back close to him.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just cooperate,” he chides, an eyebrow raised.

“I-... I don’t want this,” I whisper. “Please, just let me go.”

I jump and turn a little when I feel two warm hands on my hips. It’s Steve standing right behind me. A different hand, calloused like the one grasping my wrists, under my chin brings my gaze back to James.

“I don’t know what I want to do to you first,” he declares, his hand ghosting from my chin down my neck and between my breasts.

My breaths shake as I exhale. As his hands continue wandering down my body, I again try to pull my wrists free of his grip.

“Just relax,” Steve whispers in my ear, gently squeezing my hips.

I shake my head and try to squirm out of his grip as well.

“Like he said, this’ll all be easier if you just go along with it.”

“Please… I-, I can’t do this.”

“Doll, stop fighting this,” James commands, grabbing the waistband of my pajama shorts. “I’ll have to put that mouth to better use if you don’t stop trying to convince me to let you go.”

He pulls me closer using his grip on my shorts, and Steve follows just behind. I’m sandwiched between the two, their body heat making me squirm. I whimper and shut my eyes tightly as James’ fingers ghost over my panty line.

“What do you say, Steve?” James questions arrogantly. He brings his hand back up to my face, gripping my chin. “Shall we see what she’s capable of?”

“I think that’d be wise,” Steve breathes, the warm air going down my neck.

I shudder as Steve places a small kiss at the nape of my neck.

“On your knees, doll,” James commands, smirking at me.

My eyes widen and my jaw goes slack in shock.

When I don’t move, his hand goes to my shoulder and forces me down. Steve’s hands leave my hips as I sink to the floor. My heart races as I stare up at James, my knees digging into the rather soft carpet. I don’t have much time to consider it before he’s unzipping his slacks. I shake my head and try to back away only to run into Steve’s shins.

“Come on, doll,” James scolds. “Don’t play coy with me now.”

“I don’t-” I begin.

I freeze when I feel lips on my neck again. Warm hands slip under the hem of my thin pajama shirt, settling into place on my hips again. One hand begins drifting up my side and ends up kneading my breast. I sink back into the warm body behind me, closing my eyes as his lips continue wandering the skin of my neck.

I gasp as his tongue licks a stripe up my neck. I barely register the hands weaving into my hair until I feel an intrusion. I look up at James, but his features are cold as he forces his dick past my lips. He lets out a soft moan once he’s fully sheathed. As I swallow, he moans louder. It’s at that point, he seems to lose his control as he begins thrusting into my mouth.

As he continues his thrusts, it becomes difficult for me to breathe properly. I’m again distracted by what’s going on with one of the two men, so I don’t notice what the other is doing until there’s another intrusion. I moan against James’ thrusts when Steve’s fingers find my clit.

“Oh fuck,” James hisses, pulling out of my mouth.

Despite James stopping, Steve continues and takes it another step further, slipping a finger into me. I whine and squirm, which causes him to wrap his other arm around my waist. This effectively holds me against him as he continues finger fucking me.

“That feel good, doll?” Steve murmurs in my ear.

I nod a little too quickly.

I feel him smirk against my neck as he plants another kiss against my neck. He adds a second finger and begins thrusting faster. My breaths are ragged as I throw my head back onto his shoulder, and I grasp at his arm. He chuckles softly, and his teeth scrape along my neck as his lips continue moving along my neck. He sucks and bites his way down my neck, likely leaving marks all along the way.

“Shit, that’s hot as fuck,” James groans.

Steve chuckles before nibbling on my ear. I moan quietly, arching my back as his thumb rubs circles on my clit.

“You think she’s ready?” James questions huskily.

Steve nods as he rests his head against mine. Hardly a second passes until he pulls his fingers out of me. I whine at the loss, watching as he sucks his fingers clean. My head is fuzzy, and my mouth is slightly open as I watch him clean his fingers of my arousal.

My gaze doesn’t move from him until there are hands grasping my arms which pull me to my feet. I waver slightly but am quickly steadied by another pair of hands again low on my hips.

“It must have been some time since you’ve even been touched, doll,” James mocks. “Or are we just that good?”

“It’s none of your business,” I reply, trying to sound tough but my voice is weak as it sounds more like a sigh.

“Are you ready for more?” Steve whispers, kissing just behind my ear.

I whine and push on his hands. “No, I-, I don’t want this.”

James chuckles, his eyes staring into mine. They’re cold and hold no emotion.

I squirm as his fingers toy with the hem of my shirt then brush along my waist.

A warm, gentle hand on my back guides me away from James and to the bed. I turn and see Steve at my side, and he smiles gently at me, tucking some hair behind my ear. His touch lingers for another second before I’m shoved down onto the bed. A second later, my pajama pants are pulled down, my panties along with them.

Before I have the chance to process the action, James has thrusted into me. He moves slowly, stopping once he’s again fully sheathed.

“Holy shit, doll,” he groans. “So wet and warm. I’m not going to last very long.”

He pulls back a little then thrusts back in. I bite my lip to keep the noises in that threaten to escape. However, I can’t stop the whine that passes my lips when he hits a soft spot in me.

“That feel good? Hm?” he questions, mocking almost, and drives into that spot repeatedly.

I arch my back, pushing back against his thrusts, as his fingers find my clit and egg me closer to the impending pleasure.

“Shit,” he gasps, his trusts stilling deep within as a warmth fills me.

My body goes limp into the bed, my heart racing and my breaths fast.

As James pulls out, another set of warm hands steadies me. One remains at my waist as the other moves my leg onto the bed. I groan at the movement.

“I know, darling,” Steve murmurs. “Let me take care of you. Just relax.”

His hand ghosts up my thigh and towards my core. A strangled gasp leaves my lips when his fingers reach my clit.

He kisses the inside of my thigh as his fingers move faster, to which I whimper and try to move away.

“Do you want me to stop?” Steve asks, moving his fingers away. I reach back and grab his wrist before he moves too far away.

“No, no please,” I beg. “It’s just too much...”

“Just relax.” His hand soothes the back of my leg. “I’ve got you.”

I nod quickly.

“Lilly?”

“Please...”

The pleasure ignites in my veins again as he continues his previous movements. My hands grip the sheets tightly, and the moan gets caught in my throat as the pleasure comes to a head.

When my mind clears after a few moments, I recognize Steve’s hand on my back.

“You with me, Lilly?” he asks.

I nod slowly and try to lift myself.

“Here, allow me.”

I take the hand he offers. His other goes to my waist as he carefully guides me into standing. He leads the way into the en-suite bathroom, where the tub is already filled with water and several candles are lit.

“Use the toilet,” he commands though his voice is soft. “I’ll finish getting your bath ready.”

He kneels at the sink and opens the cabinet underneath. I linger for a second longer before taking a seat on the toilet, blushing slightly.

“What would you like?” Steve inquires, keeping his gaze away from me.

“For what?” I reply, shifting my feet on the rug below them.

“I figured a bubble bath may be relaxing for you before bed, with the night you’ve had.”

“What are my options?”

“There’s lavender, eucalyptus and mint, orange, lilac and vanilla...”

“Um,” I pause, my gaze shifting to my feet, “Lavender is fine.”

“Is there something else you’d prefer?”

I shake my head.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble to get something else.”

“It’s fine. I don’t need anything else.”

“Well, let me know if you change your mind.” He rises to his feet and sets the bottle on the sink counter. “I’ll be just outside if you need me.”

I watch as he exits the room and shuts the door behind him. The tension leaves me once I finally have a private moment to breathe.

Once I’ve finished using the toilet, I flush and wash my hands, my gaze wandering to the steaming tub across the room. It’s certainly appealing, given the events of tonight.

I pull my pajama shirt over my head and drop it on the floor at my feet before approaching the tub, sinking into the hot water carefully. As I settle in, my gaze goes around the room but stops on the bottle of bubble bath still on the sink.

“Stupid,” I mutter understand my breath, putting my face in my hands. “Whatever.”

I finish settling into place and allow the warm water to ease my muscles until the water starts getting cold. I push the drain stopper then rise to my feet.

A knock coming from the door scares the shit out of me, but it’s cracked open a second later.

“You getting out?” Steve’s voice comes through the crack.

“Yes,” I answer simply.

“There’s a towel for you on the rack to your right and clean clothes out here for you.”

I blink quickly, unsure of what to say. Frankly, I’m shocked. He’s obviously nicer than James, to some degree.

“Thanks,” I breathe as I step out of the tub and reach for the towel.

The door is closed as I begin drying off. I wrap the towel around me before I approach the door. Before fully stepping out, I poke my head out, finding Steve seated at the vanity not far from the door. He looks over as I close the door behind me.

“They’re on the bed,” he states.

I make my way over to the bed, keeping my back to him. “Why did you stick around?”

“Buck can get pretty rough. Just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t feel it as bad in the morning.”

I pull on the panties without taking off the towel. But when I glance over my shoulder at him, Steve’s eyes are on the floor. I quickly pull on the nightgown and start for the bathroom again.

“I got it,” Steve interjects, quick to take the towel from me.

Unsure of what else to do, I simply stand where he left me as he returns my towel to the bathroom. I eye him carefully once he shuts the bathroom door again, though he keeps some distance between us.

“Do you normally stick around when James-”

“I didn’t,” he interrupts. “I couldn’t.” He looks down at his feet. “I figured you’d like some privacy and then some time to yourself. You must be feeling overwhelmed.”

“You have no idea...”

He shakes his head. “I’ll be back in the morning with some breakfast. You’ll want to get plenty of sleep. He’s taking you to the courthouse tomorrow.”

My brows furrow in both confusion and anger. “What for?”

“To see a judge so the two of you are legally considered married.”

“That’s it? Nothing special, not a choice for me?”

“I’m sorry, Lilly.”

“If you were, you wouldn’t make me stay here.”

He frowns. “You have no idea what you’re asking.”

Tears well in my eyes. “I just want to go home...”

He steps closer, cupping my face in one hand and the other resting on my waist. “We’ll make it feel like home as best we can, you and I. I promise I’ll do my best to help you acclimate to all of this.”

I shake my head, tears quickly slipping down my cheeks.

He pulls me closer and plants a gentle kiss to my forehead. “It’ll get easier. Just trust me.”

[sinner-as-saint]

Just A Little Too Much.

(Dark) Mob!Steve Rogers x Innocent!Reader AU

Run-through: You met Steve after your parents got divorced. He was your mom’s ‘special friend’, and you soon began living at his place, along with your mom. You were just 18 and a half then, and Steve became the only man you looked up to after you learnt that your father was sent to prison for unknown reasons. Soon, Steve became the only family you had after your mother started going away on even more trips for work, then came the time where she stopped coming home altogether. But that was alright, because you had Steve. You were his Princess, and he often told you that you needed no one else but him. He would do anything for you, he loved you - perhaps just a little too much. 

Themes: innocent!reader, manipulation, dark!steve, smut, fluff

You woke up from your nap with a faint smile on, feeling a pair of lips leaving soft, warm kisses all over your cheek. 

Steve. 

You immediately felt so warm just knowing he was here; his powerful scent wrapping around you, making you feel safe. 

“Wake up, Princess.” He murmured. “It’s your birthday, you can’t be napping.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing one could do. 

You heard Steve’s voice, and felt his beard trail after his lips all over your face. You opened your eyes, giggling and realizing that you had fallen asleep on the couch in your bedroom. You looked up to find Steve above you, his strong arm placed on the back of the couch as he bent over slightly to look down at you with his pretty blue eyes. He was dressed in one of his many expensive, well-tailored suits which gave away that he had just finished some call or video conference regarding work. 

“Hi Stevie.” 

His soft gaze roamed your body. “Hi Princess. Come on wake up, you don’t wanna sleep all day.” 

You smiled up at him. “Yes I do.” You said, making him raise his eyebrows at you; smirking. “It’s my birthday, I can nap all day if I want to.” You did make a fair point, he had to admit. 

His smirk morphed into a gentle, calming smile as he reached out to caress your cheek softly. “But I miss you.” 

You shrugged, lazily. “Sounds like a personal problem to me.” 

His lips parted in fake surprise. “Is that so?” 

The moment you saw his hands reaching out towards you, you knew he was planning to tickle you till you ran out of breath and begged him to stop. So you shot up and slipped from his grasp, running away as fast as you could; giggling uncontrollably. 

Steve chased you, chuckling each time you escaped his grasp. “Come here, Princess. You can’t run from me, you know that.” He chased you around the room, watched you as you jumped over the coffee table, the pouf and just as you were about to run into the walk-in closet Steve managed to grab your hand and tackled you down on the bed. 

He had you trapped, giggling and squirming under him. He was a happy man as he looked down at you, pinning your wrists down on the bed above your head, his face so close to yours that he was certain you and him were sharing the same breath. You were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

You eventually stopped fighting and squirming. You looked up at him and smiled as big as you could. You stared up at him and saw the man who was your everything. 

Steve was your everything. Your family was… absent. Steve said none of them cared about you as much as he did. Steve also said that your father was not a good man, and that’s why he was locked up in jail. You never asked why, or what he did to deserve such punishment, but Steve said that it wasn’t important for you to know so you let it go. Your mom was not here either, she was always out of the country, working. Steve said your mom made work her priority over you, but that was okay too because you had Steve. And he was all you need. 

Steve looked down at you, admiring how pretty his Princess was. When he first saw you around four years ago, he knew he had to protect you forever. You were too precious, too innocent for this world. He couldn’t just stand there and watch this world corrupt you in any way, so he kept you close. He did what he had to in order to keep you under his roof and protection all the time. He made sure you’d never have to worry about anything, ever. 

“Hi Princess.” He murmured again, still on top of you. You gave him a smile which always melted his heart ever since day one. You owned him, and you probably had no idea about all the things he was willing to do for you. 

“Hi Stevie.” To you, he had always been Stevie - your best friend, your family, your protector - your everything. You don’t know where everyone went, or why everyone gradually disappeared from your life once you met Steve. But you had him, and he was all you needed. 

“Happy Birthday.” He whispered, wishing you for the fifth time since this morning when you woke up in his arms. Steve leaned down to kiss the side of your mouth. 

You relished his touch. Steve always made you feel good just by being there, and having all his attention on you was all you ever wanted. You giggled as he kissed his way down your neck. “Thank you.” 

He hummed as he kissed along the neckline of the dress you were wearing. “Did you like your gift, Princess?” Steve asked, kissing along the top of your breasts. 

You let out a quiet gasp of pleasure as you felt him gently nip at your skin. You nodded, “I did. Thank you, Stevie.” You whispered, getting lost in the way he made you feel. You thought of the gift he had given you this morning, it was currently parked in the twelve-car garage of the house, sitting there with a pretty, red bow on top of it. It was your shiny, new dream car. 

“We can go on a drive later, if you want.” He murmured against your skin, one of his hands releasing your wrists, lowering to undo the buttons at the front of your dress. 

You shivered as you felt the warm, slow touches of his lips and fingertips all at the same time. He was always so gentle with you and always so mean to others. He always said that was because you were his precious Princess and other people meant nothing to him. 

A drive with Stevie sounded amazing. Only, he’s always working these days. Would he even have the time? “We could. But then what about work?” 

He froze for a moment, hearing the hint of sadness and uncertainty in your tone. He hated it. He hated that he had been so engrossed in work this past week that you noticed he wasn’t spending enough time with you. 

Steve pulled away and looked up at you. “I’ve been too busy with work lately, haven’t I?” He asked, knowing the answer. The little, sad nod you gave him made his heart hurt. “Aww…” he cooed, reaching up to kiss your nose, “I’m sorry, Princess.” He murmured against your skin and pulled away to look into your eyes again. “How about this, you have me all to yourself for the whole day today and the upcoming week? Sounds good?” 

He didn’t care about how much that would affect the many people who worked for him, all he knew was that his Princess needed him and he would do anything to make her happy. 

You smiled brightly. “Perfect!” 

He chuckled before leaning in to kiss your lips. Slow and gentle at first, before growing more and more needy for you. He pressed his body against yours, allowing you to feel the urgency of his need. You gasped into the heated kiss as you felt his hardness in between your legs. Steve shoved his tongue past your lips, tasting you, stroking the inside of your mouth. You whined when you felt him roll his hips against yours. 

You felt warm, burning with need just as much as he was. And he knew. 

You shivered in pleasure as you felt him kiss his way down your body again, unbuttoning your dress with impatience, his need overpowering his entire being. He needed you, needed to taste you and have you come undone on his tongue, he needed your taste embedded in his brain, not wanting to risk ever forgetting it. 

Steve kissed down the middle of your breasts, down till your belly button and stopped at the waistband of your light pink, lace panties, which matched the bra and the dress you wore. Wanting to tease you just a little, he stuck his tongue out and licked along the edge of your underwear before licking up and down your wet, clothed core. 

He watched you squirm on the bed. Smirking devilishly, he kissed along your inner thigh just to mess with you a little more. He could tell you were slowly giving into the haze of pleasure which washed over you even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“Stevie…” you whispered, closing your eyes and tipping your head back as he nibbled along the soft skin on your inner thigh. “Please…” 

He had to give in. His cock twitched in his pants, straining against the zipper at the sound of your soft moans and pleas. 

He pulled your underwear away from your skin and to the side, exposing your dripping wet folds to his hungry eyes. He could tell just by the look of it that your sensitive clit was throbbing. He hummed in satisfaction, “Prettiest little cunt I’ve ever seen…” He whispered more so to himself, reminding himself - not that he would ever forget - that you were his. “Spread your legs for me, Princess.” 

You did, just like you did everything he asked. You parted your legs then supported yourself up on your elbows, watching him. Steve once mentioned that he liked it when you watched him as he pleasured you. 

You let out a moan the moment his mouth touched you. His lips moved along your wet folds as his tongue teased your entrance. His beard scratched your sensitive skin, as your arousal spread all over his mouth. 

“You taste so sweet, Princess.” You watched how Steve closed his eyes, savouring your taste. You were a moaning mess in no time, your whole body electrified at his touch. “Like strawberries and honey.” He moaned at your taste alone, humping against the bed discreetly. He could always fuck you later, but right now was strictly about you. 

Steve moved his hand which was caressing up and down your thigh towards your core. He pushed his two fingers past your entrance and pumped them in and out of you slowly, gradually increasing his pace. He felt your walls clench around his fingers as you moaned louder and louder with each stroke of his fingers against your walls. His mouth moved to your throbbing clit, teasing you further until you felt like you were losing your mind. 

“Stevie…” You struggled to hold back your moans. 

Steve took one look at you and he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. You never could last long under his touch anyways. But he was always more than happy to pleasure his Princess. 

“Are you gonna cum for me, Princess? You can’t hold back from cumming all over my tongue, can you baby?” 

His husky voice made your body throb even more, along with his warm breath fanning your damp skin. You whined in response, dropping down on the bed - your upper body having no strength to hold you up any longer. Steve chuckled. 

“It’s okay, Princess. Cum for me.” He whispered and placed his mouth back on your clit while his fingers pumped in and out of your relentlessly. He noticed the way your legs were shaking slightly. You couldn’t hold the pressure in between your legs anymore so you let go and came violently around his fingers and mouth. 

You moaned out loud, squirming as you came, and Steve lapped up everything you had to offer. He licked each and every drop of your cum as it spilled out of you before kissing his way up your body again. He reached your lips and kissed you deeply. 

You giggled into the kiss. It made Steve smile, he always found it adorable how you were always so giggly after he made you cum. 

Steve pulled away after a while, looking down at your swollen lips and the shine in your eyes. “Want me to order your favorites for your special day? Strawberry and chocolate donuts?” He asked. Those damn donuts were your kryptonite. He often wondered if you loved them more than you loved him. 

You gave it a thought. “Nope.” 

Your answer worried him. And he opened his mouth to ask you why but you spoke up before he could. “Let’s make some cupcakes instead. With strawberry and chocolate icing.” You had missed him so much and you desperately wanted to spend time with him, and what was better than baking together in the kitchen? 

Steve smiled, almost reading your mind. He knew exactly why you had proposed so. He felt a little guilty but quickly pushed those thoughts aside. Then he remembered… 

He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Princess,” it sounded like a warning. “You remember what happened the last time we tried to bake something, right?” His voice sent shivers dancing down your back. 

Of course you remembered. It involved a lot of kisses, chocolate ganache and eventually ended with Steve fucking you right there on the kitchen floor. Your face felt really as that memory resurfaced in your head. 

You nodded. “I promise that won’t happen again, Stevie.” You were the one to blame for that, since it was you who kept teasing him in the first place. 

He hummed in your ear, the sound making your body throb again. “We’ll see about that.” He pulled away and stared down at you. “Okay, come on. Let’s go make some cupcakes for my Princess.” 

You jumped out of bed the moment he got off you. He pulled you close again, buttoning your dress for you while you looked up at him like he hung the moon. 

By the time you made it to the kitchen, Steve had already removed his suit jacket and tie. The black button down shirt was doing things to you but he didn’t need to know that yet. It should be illegal for a man to look that good. While you took out all the appliances and utensils you needed for the cupcakes and icing, Steve’s phone vibrated on the counter. 

He grabbed his phone and took a look at who the caller was. You noticed the frown on his face. 

“Who is it Stevie? Is it work?” 

The discontent in your tone didn’t go by unnoticed. But this phone call had to be dealt with. “No, Princess.” Steve stepped closer and kissed your forehead. “It’s… an old friend. I’ll be back in just a minute, okay?” He kissed your lips briefly and left the kitchen. 

You pouted for a moment but then shook it off. 

Steve went as far away from the open kitchen as he could, just to get out of your hearing range. He had to cross the entire living room to answer the call. Bitterly. 

“What?” He spat at the caller. And he was immediately greeted by a sobbing woman. 

“Just let me talk to her, at least please. She’s my-,” 

Steve cut the crying woman off, like he always did. “She’s your nothing! Nothing, you hear me? She’s mine. Only mine. It’s not my fault you’re a terrible mother who doesn’t care about her daughter’s well-being.” 

He heard more sobbing on the phone. “I didn’t do anything, I just-,” 

He cut her off once again. “Stop lying! You tried to take her away from me!” 

The woman raised her voice. “Because I realized that you’re crazy! I regret the day I met you, the day I let you in my life, in her life. You were a big mistake, and now you won’t even let me talk to my daughter?!” Her anger could be heard despite the tears. “You won’t even let me come home, I can’t even step out of this damn place because your men are everywhere!” 

Steve chuckled. Your mother was abroad, not allowed to come anywhere close to you because… because he didn’t like the thought of having to share your love or attention. You were his. You had him, you didn’t need anyone else. 

“You’re in a luxurious house, with everything one can ever need in it. What are you complaining about? You could’ve been dead, you know? I could have had you killed instead if I wanted to, but I didn’t. You should thank me for that.” 

He received a series of swear words as a reply, which only made him smirk wider. 

“It’s her birthday, Steve. Let me talk to her. I won’t tell her anything about this, please.” The woman begged. 

Steve scoffed. “She doesn’t need you. She has me. Now, don’t ever call here again or I’ll make sure you don’t live to see another day.” He ended the call right in the woman’s face. He carelessly tossed his phone on one of the couches as he walked back into the kitchen. 

You were taking out all the ingredients, weighing them on the scale carefully. You had somehow managed to get some flour on your cheek in the process. Steve smiled, his heart melting at the sight of you. So precious, all his. 

He walked over to where you stood and wrapped his arms around your waist, lowering his head to kiss your exposed shoulder. “Hi Princess.” He murmured, softly. 

You smiled. “Hi.” 

“I love you more than anything, Princess. You know that, right?” He placed another kiss on your skin. 

You turned your head to the side a little, smiling, “I know, you tell me everyday. I love you too, Stevie.” 

-

Midway through, while your cupcakes were in the oven and Steve was getting the icing ready, he noticed a slight frown on your face as you sat on the counter not far from him. 

“What is it, Princess?” He placed the bowl down and stared at you, giving you his undivided attention as always. 

“Hmm?” You looked up at him, “Oh, nothing.” You lied. And he caught it immediately. You were never a good liar. 

Steve walked over to you, stepping in between your legs and placing his hands on your thighs, caressing your skin gently. “Don’t lie to me, Princess. Tell me what you’re thinking about.” 

You looked down at your lap, his hands inching higher and higher up your thigh. You wondered if you should bring it up, because it always upset him. But before you could stop yourself, you were blurting out the words, “I was wondering why my mom didn’t call me today. She did last year. You think she forgot my birthday?” 

Steve was upset for a moment, before being clouded by jealousy and possessiveness. He tried smiling to hide it. “You don’t need her. If she cared, she’d be here right now. Don’t you agree, Princess?” 

You nodded, lowering your eyes, but Steve could tell you didn’t agree. 

“Princess, look at me.” He spoke, you looked up. “You don’t need anyone. You have me, right?” 

You nodded again, more firmly. “I know, Stevie but-,” 

You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. Steve slid his hand into your hair and tugged on it gently to make sure he had your attention. “Because what, huh? Is my love not enough for you? Am I not enough?” His tone was gentle but bitter. His eyes were glossier than before. Anger, jealousy, it all ate him up on the inside. 

You stared into his eyes, your own watering a little. Oh no, you didn’t want to upset him. “You’re my everything, Stevie.” 

Those words shook his entire being, and he released your hair immediately. He looked down for a moment, sighing loudly. He placed his hands on either side of you on the counter, pressing his forehead to your chest. “You’re mine, Princess.” He whispered as your fingers slid into his hair, massaging his scalp to calm him down. It was working. “You’re mine and you don’t need anyone else.” He whispered. “We don’t need anyone.” 

You spoke up immediately, “I know. I don’t need anyone. I have you.” You felt him kiss his way up your neck soon after. 

“But you’re still thinking about your mother, are you not?” He sounded bitter. “She doesn’t care about you, Princess. She never has, neither did your father. They never cared or loved you like I do.” He said softly, but his jealousy was hard to ignore. 

“I know, Stevie.” 

You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was in a bad mood. He eventually said so himself, “You upset me, Princess.” He murmured then resumed kissing your skin. “I do all this for you, buy you what you want, do everything to keep you happy but it seems I’m not enough.” He whispered against your skin and you shivered at his tone. 

“No Stevie, that’s not-,” 

He shut you up by placing his mouth on yours. He kissed you with all he had in him, pouring out all his emotions - the good and the bad. His hands gripped your hips as he kissed you hard and fiercely, not caring that he was biting your lips carelessly. 

You couldn’t help but gasp into the kiss when he swiftly slid you off the counter and set you down on your feet. Steve pulled away and stared into your eyes with love and anger. “I’m all you need, Princess. Why can’t you just accept that?” 

Before you could say something, he turned you around so your front pressed against the edge of the counter and your back to his torso. You gripped the counter as he grabbed your dress on either side and pulled it up until it bunched around your waist. You felt his mouth at the side of your neck; licking and biting and kissing - making your heart race and that intensified when you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

“I’m gonna show you that I’m enough.” He whispered into your ear. “That I’m all you need, because no one is going to love you as much as I do, Princess.” The sincerity and certainly in his voice sent tingles down your spine. 

You felt him lower your underwear until it reached your ankles. Your heart fluttered and raced all at the same time. You could feel him, pressing against you. His hands on either side of your waist as you pressed the palms of your hands against the cold counter. 

You waited for a moment. Then you felt the tip of his cock press against your folds, slowly rubbing up and down; parting the lips at your entrance. “You’re all mine, Princess.” Steve moaned under his breath as he pushed himself slowly inside of you.

Your grip on the counter grew tighter as you steadied yourself for his thrust, knowing it was coming sooner than you thought. Steadily, Steve filled you up; stretching you all the way like he always did. And he had you whimpering in no time. 

“You belong to me.” He murmured, pushing his face into the crook of your neck. Your mind was foggy as he started rocking into you. Slowly at first, then gradually building up his pace. “Say it.” He demanded. “Tell me you belong to me.” 

You felt all of him. Each time he filled you up entirely, the tip of his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot, and you moaned out loud each time; your walls clenching around him. 

“I’m yours…” you whispered. Your mind was hazy, by him slamming into you. His thrust was animalistic, and rough. Each time he slammed into you, your front crashed against the counter, achingly. But the pleasure his body brought you made up for that.

“Louder.” He growled. “I didn’t hear you.” He taunted, pulling his face away. His hand flew to your hair and he grabbed a fistful of it, and tugged on it; tipping your head back. “I said louder, Princess.” His voice sounded menacing. 

You whimpered as he pounded into your core. His pelvic bone smacking against your ass each time he thrust into you. “I… I’m yours, Stevie” You said, louder like he wanted. 

The sounds of your skin slapping against one another was downright obscene, and the grunts leaving his mouth was even more sinful. You couldn’t see him, yet you knew he looked absolutely, devilishly handsome with his head thrown back, eyes closed, his lips parted as occasional groans escaped his lips. You could imagine him with the frown of pleasure he always had whenever he fucked you. 

“You better remember that, Princess.” He growled into your ear. “You are mine. I love you, and I am the only one you’re allowed to love back. You hear me?” 

You nodded, moaning as he reached every single sensitive spot inside you. You felt a familiar warmth taking over you, and a pressure building in your lower region. You knew you couldn’t hold it any longer. 

And when your walls clenched violently around him, Steve knew you were close as well.

“You’re gonna cum for me, Princess?” he cooed, his voice laced with lust and desire. Seeing you didn’t reply, he tugged on your hair and tilted your head back a little more. He leaned in to kiss your parted lips before pulling away a few inches to spit into your mouth, then leaned in to kiss your swollen lips again. You moaned wantonly as he did. 

“Cum for me.” He slammed his cock harder into you, and your eyes watered. He felt agonizingly good. It didn’t take much for you to come undone after that. Gushing out around his cock, walls pulsating around him; you came, hard.

He did too. With a few strokes against your walls, he came right after you. “All fucking mine.” His warm load shooting inside you, leaving behind his presence as your body shook against the counter.

Carefully, he pulled out. And smiled, satisfied, as he watched how his cum trickled out of you and past your folds. He adjusted his pants and zipped it up. He pulled your underwear up, then finally fixed your dress. 

He leaned in to kiss your cheek. Your back was still against his torso, and his arms were around you. Unable to trust your own body, your hands gripped the counter still. He nuzzled your neck, kissed your skin and moved his lips to your ear. 

“Now tell me, Princess, do you need anyone else? Anyone at all?” He mumbled. 

You shook your head, still hazy. “No, Stevie. You’re all I need. You’re my everything.” You replied, repeating the same words he constantly told you. “I love you.” 

Steve smiled against your skin. “I love you more, Princess.” He added, “Perhaps a little too much.” He meant what he said. 

He didn’t care how many times he’d have to remind you. He would do it as many times as it took, all for you to realize that you belonged to him. There was no one else. No other love, no one else to turn to, nowhere to run. Just him. 

“Now come on, we have cupcakes to ice.” He kissed your cheek before pulling your trembling body away from the counter. 

You smiled up at him. Your Stevie… How could you ever bother about whether anyone else remembered your birthday or not? Stevie was here for you, and he was all you ever needed. He was your everything. You loved him. Only him. 

[deathbymeow]

Crown

This is for @boldlyanxious a late birthday present ���

Song fic to 'you should see me in a crown' by Billie Eilish

This was meant to be a one shot that ran wild in my head so it will be a multi chapter fic with only the first chapter as a song chapter/fic? not sure what to call it

Warning: corse Language, sexual references

Bite my tongue, bide my time

Wearing a warning sign

Wait ‘til the world is mine

Marinette was no stranger to being on her own. In her youth she was surrounded by people, yet she had never felt so isolated. No one understood the power that was carelessly given to her by the old Guardian. The only person that came close was her partner Chat Noir. Without knowing each other’s identities there wasn’t a lot he could do to support her when she became Guardian. Eventually the teens fell in love in and out of the masks and the rest was history.

Hold up, if that was the case the story would end there, and this story has only just begun.

No, their story didn’t have the happy ending they rightfully deserved. In a sad twist of fate Chat or as the City of Paris now knows, one Adrien Agreste didn’t survive the final battle due to one power hungry maniac who just happened to be his father.

Ladybug held it together long enough to hand Gabriel Agreste over to the authority’s before she retreated to fall apart in private. She put her trust in the justice system only to be betrayed by the city that she protected, and the love of her life died for.

Marinette vowed to make it right. Adrien wasn’t going to die for nothing. But grief is a funny thing and somewhere along the way it twisted the once innocent little bug. Ladybug wasn’t seen again and one Marinette Dupain Cheng went to study abroad.

After only serving four years for murder and don’t forget the worst terrorist attacks Paris had ever seen, Agreste was released. His lawyers had pleaded insanity due to grief and the dangerous use of a magical item. He’d apparently been so distraught over losing his wife, son and the terror he’d caused Paris he’d done everything the phycologists had asked and been a model inmate resulting in early patrol.

Marinette called bullshit and so she paid him a visit. The only thing his assistant found in the morning was a message written in blood, later discovered to be Gabriel Agreste’s.

The bold letters, ‘Tell me which one is worst, living or dying first?’ were smeared across the wall behind his desk. Gabriel Agreste was never seen again and his money, well let’s just say a new little kitty had big plans and daddy Agreste was going to fund it.

The newly trained little assassin was only just getting started.

Europe’s crime rate had magically declined no pun intended. Mob bosses disappeared with only large amounts of their blood left behind. No bodies were ever found, and their fortunes donated to various charity’s.

Whispers of a tiny assassin that moved in the shadows and had the voice of an angel started to circulate and it wasn’t long before she earned the nickname, Nightingale.

Marinette found this name to be entertaining as she wielded the cat miraculous. She looked nothing like Chat transformed, choosing to lose the cat features except for her unearthly blue cat eyes. Her suit was closer to something an assassin would wear. A black corset and pants were hidden under a long black hooded cloak and a piece of cloth covered the lower part of her face leaving only her eyes exposed. She still had Chat’s staff, but various other weapons littered her body.

Marinette was surprised that Tikki didn’t try and talk her out of it. At first the kwami had been worried about Marinette’s mental health but the training the young Guardian had gone through forced her to focus her emotions. Tikki understood the balance the universe needed, and suggested Marinette target a city that needed her help to restoring the balance between creation and destruction. Plagg was only too happy to help his charge and let’s be honest he felt most alive causing chaos.

With her mind made up, Marinette set her sights on Gotham. After distancing herself from family and friends over the years, there was nothing left for her in Paris anymore. She had no emotional connections other than the kwami. It was one of the most important lessons she’d learned, after losing Adrien. She vowed she’d never love like that again.

As soon as her plane landed it was made clear just how much this city needed an intervention. Plastered all over the front of the local newspapers was the headline,

‘Black Mask blows up Gotham’s future.

68 kids lose their lives after Batman fails to find bomb planted on local school bus by the Black Mask.’

They were yet to catch him. Not even the Bat had been able to find him. Clearly Batman’s no kill rule hadn’t been working. Marinette was sure if the Bat had taken out Roman Sinois aka the Black Mask, those kids as well as his countless other victims wouldn’t be dead.

Visions I vandalize

Cold in my kingdom size

Fell for these ocean eyes

The first snow of the season had blanked Gotham in a fluffy white sheet hiding some of the trash littering crime ally. It didn’t hide the bright graffiti on the walls though. The bright colours grounded Marinette and reminded her where she was. This wasn’t a winter wonderland after all. This was Gotham, crime capital of the country, some would argue the world.

Marinette’s apartment was above a Chinese restaurant. The owners didn’t speak very good English and were thankful when Marinette had saved their daughter from local thugs. When they heard she needed a place to rent they offered her the empty apartment above the shop and a part time job in the restaurant. It was the perfect cover for the 22-year-old to blend in.

Marinette had been in the city for only a month and was yet to move on her target. She knew the importance of doing all the grown work and endless hours of research. Yet the Black Mask had been harder to find than she’d first thought. Thanks to a well-timed stumble into one Danny Casella, she was confident it was only a matter of time now. She had a meeting date with Danny tonight at the Iceberg lounge.

However, she hadn’t planned on meeting one Jason Todd so soon.

The lunch rush was just coming to an end and Marinette was looking forwards to her shift ending when the door chimed. She took a deep breath and looked up only to be met with a pair of pretty aqua eyes.

Marinette had done her homework on the club owner and estranged adopted son of Bruce Wayne. Jason Todd presumed dead only to resurface years later. He now owned the Iceberg lounge after the disappearance of Oswald Cobblepot. He had ties to the infamous mob boss Red Hood. Marinette had her suspicions the two were connected in more ways than one and the last thing she wanted was to be on his radar as Marinette or Nightingale.

“I haven’t seen you around here before sweetheart. There’s no way I’d forget those ocean eyes.” His voice was deep and alluring.

“We close in fifteen minutes. Do you know what you would like to order?” Marinette kept her voice even, ignoring the fact she could feel warning signs radiating off him. She wasn’t sure if it was because he was dangerous or because he was the first guy since Adrien that she felt some kind of instant spark. Plus, it didn’t hurt that he was drop dead gorgeous.

“Direct, I’ll respect that. I’ll just have the chicken satay.” He leant on the counter, his smile intensifying.

“Hmph, typical.” She mumbled under her breath as she wrote it down.

“Sorry I didn’t catch that Doll.” He raised his eyebrow at her, his smile shifting into something more challenging.

She raised her eyes and leaned into his space. “I said typical white boys’ dish and I’m not a doll. You want a plaything you’ll find that three doors down. Ask for Gina. She has a discount card. Sixth visit and you get a free STI. That’ll be 9.50.” She gave him the sweetest smile she could all the while hating that she found his stupid face attractive.

“Marinette! Mr Todd, very sorry. New girl.” Mr Zhao, Marinette’s boss rushed out of the kitchen wiping his hands on his apron. He threw Marinette a disapproved look and shook his head.

“No, no I like this one Mr Zhao. I might just have to steal her for my bar. She’d give my customers a run for their money.”

“I’m sorry Mr Zhao. It won’t happen again.” Marinette apologised all the while refusing to look at the stupidly good-looking man.

“I’ll be at the Iceberg lounge tonight. You should join me, Marinette.”

She glanced over her shoulder to glare at him only to regret it. The smile on his face made his pretty eyes sparkle and reminded her all too much of Adrien. Pain that she’d tried so hard to bury threatened to resurface and she rushed out the back before he could notice.

You should see me in a crown

I’m gonna run this nothing town

Watch me make ‘em bow

Marinette was no longer innocent or naive as she once was. She knew how others saw her and she’d been trained to use it to her advantage. If someone was flirting with her and focused on her assets, she had the upper hand without even trying. That said she didn’t need to look trashy. She may not have followed her fashion dream, but she knew how to use the knowledge to her advantage.

Ignoring the cold air, she jumped into a taxi and adjusted her long sleeve black dress that did little to keep her warm. It zipped up the front and she intentionally left the zipper down far enough to show off the lacy black bra she wore underneath. The top of the dress was tight then loosened as it hit her hips, helping to hide the three kunai strapped to the top of her thigh.

She didn’t miss how the driver tilted the mirror so he could run his eyes over her exposed cleavage or maybe it was her toned legs. She smiled at him and flipped him off when he realized he’d been caught looking. The driver wasn’t expecting her response and coughed a few times trying to hide the fact he nearly choked on his mint. She supressed her laugh and adjusted the strap on her black stiletto. Running and fighting in heals had become second nature to her, something younger Marinette wouldn’t have dreamed of.

Once inside the club with her head held high, she ignored the eyes that ran over her body and headed to the bar. She’d already finished her first drink and politely turned away four offers of company when her not a date showed up.

Everything about Danny was average. Marinette had done her research. He had no family other than his work mates if you can call fellow henchmen that. He’d been charged with rape and manslaughter but somehow he was still a free man. If things went bad no one would miss him, and Marinette wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.

Marinette greeted him and let him kiss her on the cheek even though every fibre in her wanted to slam his beer bottle over his head. Her skin crawled when he ran his eyes over her and rested his tattooed hand on her thigh.

“It’s good to see you again Sugar. How bout we take this somewhere a little more private?” Danny asked squeezing her thigh.

“Lead the way handsome.” She let him help her off the barstool and grab her waist. As they walked to one of the booths in the corner, he grabbed her ass and she forced herself to giggle like she was enjoying the attention.

They slid into the booth, and he draped his arm over her shoulder like he owned her. “So how long have you lived in Gotham, Sugar? I haven’t seen you around these parts until we bumped into each other the other day.”

“Oh just a few weeks. I’ve travelled around a bit but I’m waiting for the right excuse to settle down.” She smiled up at him with big doe eyes.

He snickered and reached over with his other hand and rubbed her cheek. “Well, I’m thinkin I could change that. My boss is one of the main power players of Gotham, and if you stick with me, I can protect you and keep you plenty satisfied.” His hand was back on her thigh, and it was getting higher by the second.

“Mmm, I like a man who can look after me.” She purred grabbing his hand bringing it to her mouth. As much as he made her skin crawl, she didn’t want him to find the kunai’s strapped to her thigh. She kissed the tip of his index finger before sucking it into her mouth. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment and he swallowed.

“Fuck beautiful. That mouth.”

Marinette pulled his finger out of her mouth with a pop, sticking her tongue out to twirl it around the tip before she let it go. “So who do you work for? I need to know you can provide for me and then I can provide for you.”

“The Black Mask. I’m his right-hand man. Anything you want I can get you.” He leaned over her and grabbed her face. “All you need to do is keep me happy. If you’re lucky you might even get to meet him. I think he’d approve of you.” He kissed her roughly. Marinette played into the kiss hating every moment of it. He tasted like a mixture of cheap beer and cigarettes.

“I thought he went underground?” She asked when he finally let her go.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Let me get you a drink and you can show me just how well you can use that mouth of yours.” He ran his fingers over her lips and grabbed her breast with the other hand before he got up and walked to the bar.

Marinette had him. All she had to do was secure her place by this moron’s side and he would lead her straight to the infamous Roman Sionis. She knew how the night was going to go but her innocence was something she’d lost a long time ago. It was about eliminating the target and she’d do what she had to.

All too soon he returned with their drinks. She wondered what it would be like to wrap her hands around his throat till that nasty smirk was wiped off his face. There was nothing alluring about him. Pretty aqua eyes flashed in her mind. Was he here tonight? Would she see him? Would he see her with this poor excuse of a human? Did she really care?

There was only one right answer. No. It had to be, she needed to stay focused on the task at hand. There was no time for distractions. Marinette took a deep breath to centre her mind again and took the drink. She was no fool, she could smell the drugs he’d put in it. This didn’t bother her as she’d built up an immunity to most drugs with the League. She would just pretend to be intoxicated. Always easier to get information out of people when they didn’t think you’d remember it.

“I think I know what we both want so how bout we finish our drinks and get out of here?” His hands were all over her again and his lips were on hers. He’d already downed his drink and was pulling her to her feet. “Be a good girl and drink up Sugar.” He pushed the drink closer to her face.

God, she needed a stronger drink for this shit. Marinette lifted the glass, gave it a swirl and put it against her lips hoping the drugs might take some of the edge off.

Marinette had hardly taken a sip when someone bumped into her, and the contents of the glass tipped down her chin and dress. She spun around to find apologetic aqua eyes staring down at her.

“Shit, my bad. Hey, Marinette, fancy seeing you here.” Jason gave her a shit eating grin while holding onto her waist. Like hell he didn’t know it was her. “Let me help clean you up”. He pulled his pocket square out of his suit jacket and wiped her chin then ran it down her neck.

Before he could reach her cleavage, Danny shoved Jason’s shoulder nearly knocking Marinette over in the process. “Hey what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Danny yelled.

In one swift movement Jason moved infront of Marinette and slammed Danny’s face into the table. Jason held Danny’s face down ignoring the fact his face had smashed a glass in the process. “That’s no way to treat a beautiful woman Danny and what the fuck are you doing here? I don’t tolerate Sionis’ men in my club, but you already know that don’t you?”

Danny squirmed against the table staining it red from the gash on the side of his face. He mumbled something under his breath and Marinette caught the shimmer of a blade in Danny’s hand. She had a split second to decide if she was going to risk this getting back to Sionis. Danny knew her name now thanks to Jason. The last thing she wanted was for him to know she was involved with Jason Todd.

To anyone watching it would’ve looked like Marinette was trying to get Jason to let go, but in reality, she’d grabbed the blade and redirected it into Danny’s groin. It was only a matter of time now before he bled out. Jason looked down at her and raised his dark eyebrow. Still holding Danny against the table, he motioned for two bouncers to take Danny out the back and away from prying eyes. They quickly took Danny and half dragged half carried him through a door.

Count my cards, watch them fall

Blood on a marble wall

I like the way they all

Scream

Jason grabbed her arm and started to lead her towards the back of the club. His grip was firm enough that she couldn’t escape without a struggle, so she allowed him to lead her through the same door. The marble floor had a trail of smeared blood that led into one of the rooms near the end of the long corridor. Marinette could just here screams coming from the room over the loud music of the club. Jason avoided the blood and pulled her into what looked like a large office.

“Sorry to drag you back here beautiful. I just have something I need to address, and I’ll be right back. You’ll find a bathroom through that door.” He pointed to a door behind the large fish tank. “You can clean up there.” He left and she heard him lock the door from the outside.

“Fuck.” Marinette cursed under her breath. This wasn’t how her night was meant to go. How could she get the info she needed from a dead guy?

Whether she liked it or not, it looked like she was going to have to deal with Jason Todd and in turn The Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to his methods, that wasn’t the problem. The problem was she worked best in the shadows and as far as she could tell the Red Hood was a show pony. He was morally grey like her, killing when needed but protecting the weak. As much as she needed Danny, she wasn’t going to risk a falling out with him. That said she didn’t need his attention either.

Marinette walked into the lavish bathroom and washed the blood off her hands then found a towel to wipe herself down. She wiped the sticky liquid off her skin and fixed her smudged lipstick. Well at least she didn’t have to kiss Danny again. Leaving the bathroom, she did a quick assessment of the room. No other exits that she could make out. Heading for the door she pulled a pair of lock picks from her hair.

You say “come over, baby

I think you’re pretty”

I’m okay, I’m not your baby

If you think I’m pretty

The door opened before she got a chance to escape, and Jason walked in. He eyed the picks and smirked shaking his head. “Leaving already Pixie?” He had lost his jacket and the sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up. There was still blood on his arms where he’d obviously missed when he’d rushed to clean up.

Marinette calculated the risks of seeing what he wanted or fighting her way out. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit curious about him. “Is that an option?”

“Not until we’ve had a talk. But first.” Jason walked over to her, and she couldn’t help but notice his muscles flex under his shirt as he moved. He ran his hand over her cheek, down her neck then between her breasts. His eyes never left hers the whole time. She held his gaze but when his finger hooked on to the zipper of her dress, she raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Jason shrugged and simply said. “Need to check for wires.” Then he made quick work of the zipper, letting his hand brush against her skin as he pulled it down. She held still as he ran his hands over her shoulders slipping the dress off, letting it fall to the ground.

Jason took a step back and ran his eyes over her stopping on each of her blades strapped to her body. He twirled his finger, indicating for her to turn. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises sweetheart.” He said as she slowly spun in a circle. Satisfied he handed her dress back to her. When she reached for it, he grabbed her arm and held it up to examine her ribcage.

Marinette knew exactly what he was looking at. Amongst the scars the Leagues symbol was tattooed just under where her bra sat against her ribs. It was something they’d forced upon her before leaving the compound.

“Oh Pix, not so innocent after all. And here I was thinking you just got mixed up with the wrong guy and liked shiny pointy things.” He motioned to the kunai’s strapped to her thigh. “A very dead guy now, thanks to you.”

“He was no use to me anymore after you gave him my name. Plus, one would think you’d be thankful for the save.” She said making no move to put her dress back on.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Jason and his eyes flickered between her bare skin and her baby blues. “Who do you work for?” He took a step towards her, backing her up against his desk.

“If I was here for you, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, nor would I have let that animal put his hands on me.” She put her hands on the desk to steady herself as Jason closed the gap between them.

“You didn’t answer my question, Pixie.” He ran his hand down her cheek then lifted her chin up so he could stare into her eyes.

“I work alone.” She twisted her face out of his grip then glared at him.

Jason snickered and shook his head. “So, you think you can take Sionis down by yourself then?” He put his hands either side of her and leaned into her space.

“Someone has to. The bats and birds of the city seem to be failing at their job and this Red Hood seems more interested in the city’s drugs than kids dying at the hands of monsters.” She bit back.

Marinette could see she stuck a nerve. Jason almost growled at her as he grabbed one of her kunai and brought it to her throat. She was just as quick to grab the dagger from her hair and jab it into the space between his ribs. Her hair tumbled down her back as the deadly blade pierced through his shirt and into his skin. Not deep, but enough so he felt the sting and knew she wasn’t playing. If she pushed it far enough, it would pierce his lung.

He hissed in pain but didn’t move. “Now that wasn’t very smart Pix. You could’ve made me slip.” As the words left his mouth, he pushed against the blade just enough to break her skin and send a trickle of blood down her neck. “I like your sass it would be such a shame to waste a pretty face. Work for me and I’ll help you get what you want.”

“I work alone, Hood.” She challenged him, bringing her face closer to his forcing him to make the choice. Lose the blade or cut her deeper.

“I’m not sure if you’re smart or stupid but fuck you’re turning me on.” He growled as he dropped the blade and pulled her against him.

Marinette hated the way her body responded to his touch. She found herself melting against him as he kissed the small cut on her neck. A soft moan escaped her lips as her body betrayed her and she let him position himself between her legs. He pushed against her, and she could feel what she was doing to him.

“All you have to do is pretend to be my queen.” He breathed against her ear.

“Find someone else to play your games.” She held his glaze as she grabbed the blade in his side and pulled it out earning a sharp hiss from his lips. “I don’t need your help.”

“I’m sure you don’t but your way in is, well dead. The way I see it, if any more of his lieutenants go missing, he’s going to go deeper underground. He hates me. If he thinks you’re mine he’ll come straight for you.” He smirked at her knowing he had a good plan.

“I despise you.” She whispered into his ear before biting it.

“I can live with that.” He moaned. “What do you say Pixie?” He gently ran his fingers through her hair then grabbed a handful and yanked her head back exposing her neck. Jason kissed the exposed skin and snickered as she mewed at the attention and rolled her hips against him.

“I can’t wait to see what you do to me once you like me Pix.” He traced his free hand down her spine, over her hip and under her bellybutton. His fingers lingered on the top of her lace panties. He felt her body quiver against his.

“Such a good girl. Look at how your body responds to me.” He breathed into her ear before kissing her neck again.

“If you want me to call you daddy it’s not gonna happen. I’m not the one with daddy issues.” No matter her training she was coming undone in his hands and she hated him even more for it.

He snickered at her attempt to sound uninterested. His finger snaked under the delicate material, and he swore he heard her purr as her eyes fluttered closed. “Such a tough little nightingale.”

Marinette’s back stiffened and her eyes flew open. He noticed the change immediately and gave her some breathing room before her fight or flight instincts kicked in.

“That’s right Pixie, you’re not the only one connected to the league. Your handler and I have what you could say, an understanding. You know my identity and I know yours. It’s only fair.”

“Talia doesn’t do understandings. She treats everyone like a pawn, moving them around to suit her and whatever twisted game she decides to play.” Marinette’s words were laced with venom. Talia had been her savour and her persecutor all in one. She hated her and respected her and that angered Marinette no end.

“And yet here you are.” Jason traced his finger down her neck stopping on the cut to wipe away a droplet of blood that had formed in the corner.

“And if I say no?” Marinette lifted her eyes to his to find him studying her face.

“Have you heard of the Japanese phrase ‘koi no yokan’?” He was in her space again and she could feel his breath fan across her face. His hands made their way back to her skin and rested on her hips.

Marinette hated how it felt. Not because she didn’t like it but because she did. “I’m familiar with it, but we both know we’re killers. Don’t try and make out like we get a happy ever after.”

Jason snickered and brought his face closer till his forehead rested against hers and their noses were touching. “I look forwards to changing your mind sweetheart.” He rubbed his nose against hers and when she didn’t pull back decided he couldn’t go another second without tasting her lips.

His lips we about to catch hers when the door opened with no warning. Thanks to Jason’s antics Marinette was so tightly wound she let her instincts take over and one of her blades went flying towards Jason’s security team. Before anyone could react, it slammed into the first bouncers shoulder, and he stumbled into the man behind him.

“You asked for that. Haven’t I told you assholes to knock.” Jason growled. He turned back to Marinette and his face softened as he helped her off the desk. Picking up her dress he held it out so she could slip her arms into it. “I look forwards to getting to know you better beautiful. I’ll pick you up for dinner tomorrow after your shift.”

Marinette nodded as she zipped her dress up. She didn’t like being forced to do something against her will, but she would be lying if the idea of seeing him again didn’t excite her. He handed her the abandon dagger and Kunai, and she eyed the blood on it.

She placed a small vial on his desk. “You’re going to want to drink that soon if you plan on seeing me again.” She winked at him then walked towards the door.

“Aww Pix, see you do care. My men will drive you home sweetheart.” Jason called after her.

Marinette refused to give him any more of her time. He was infuriating and she was frustrated in more ways than one. She grabbed her blade out of the bouncer as she walked out, ignoring his cries of pain.

Marinette had a feeling her time in Gotham was about to get very interesting.

You should see me in a crown

I’m gonna run this nothing town

Watch me make ‘em bow

One by, one by one, one by, one by

You should see me in a crown

Your silence is my favorite sound

[heartofholland]

tom recs <3

hi guys! here is a fic rec list i made of all the fics i’ve loved. personally, i consider myself an avid fic reader so i have read a shit ton of fics. these are just my highlights. let me know if you want more like this! and if you do end up reading any of these please make sure you REBLOG them to spread the goodness. these writers work their ass off and deserve all the credit in the world. enjoy! <3

SERIES

riding my by @worldoftom this fic is barely started but i love everything this writer puts out. very smutty, very hot. innocence kink check!

breaking curfew by @wazzupmrstark ASSHOLE TOM! my weakness. enemies to lovers but make it FWB. what I wish my summer camp was like instead of my thighs sticking to chairs and lice outbreaks.

eighteen by @angelic-holland corruption/innocence kink! basically all smut but damn do i want bad boy tom.

the situationship by @fairytelling can’t say enough about this fic. the definition of falling in love with your best friend. if my relationship isn’t like this i don’t want it.

happiness is a butterfly by @blissfulparker soft mob!tom and they’re forbidden soulmates! updates are WELL worth the wait!

i only feel you by @stuckonspidey the first time i read my watch thought i was working out for how high my heart rate was. shit keeps you on your toes. there is a sequel fic but just a heads up you will want to unstan tom on multiple occasions.

make me love you by @mrs-hollandstan frat boy player tom turned soft. mans does a whole 180. fuck dom.

perfidy by @peeterparkr couldn’t be more obsessed with this fic. they’re both so fucking stupid but too afraid to get hurt. also the social media posts are so fucking cute and crucial to the story 

eloped by @worldoftom getting married to tom in the most beautiful vacation spot? sign me the fuck up

you. by @txmhoelland i think there’s definely worse men to be set up with as a PR stunt.

erotas by @farfromparker i have definely read this fic for more days than i’ve been on this earth but every time i lose my goddamn mind

dare you to move by @starksparker-archive the best version of FWB tom is when you’re his roommate…

gone by @dahliaspidey this one… hurts. but i just know it will bounce back.

take me out by @angelic-holland warning this one is really dark. like serial killers. but it was so fascinating i am completely obsessed with the psychology of it all. jake is featured and please don’t imagine the mr. music the entire time like i did </3

single all the way by @heyhihellowhatsup0 i read this whenever i need a lil christmas pick me up

sweetener by @keepingupwiththeparkers cute awkward relationship. it is so real i feel like it could actually happen to me.

ex on the beach by @heyhihellowhatsup0 THE ANGST GIVES ME LIFE

SMUT

bartender by @t-o-m-holland tom happens to own your favorite bar. your subtle flirts aren’t working. the banter between reader and the fam makes me wish i didn't have social anxiety.

siren by @rosyparkers don’t get me wrong i will scream ACAB til the day i die but police officer tom could definitely get it.

best of three by @mrs-hollandstan one of the 3000 threesome fics i have saved. imagine not getting one of the hottest men but TWO.

roommates by @hollandbaby what a coincidence we both want to fuck each other! this checks all the kinks my man. i’ve read this probably no less than 100 times.  

that was that by @moorehollandplz dom!tom but something flips and he’s never been more gentle. mans got both sides of the playing field covered.

know your enemy by @angelic-holland short but sweet. hate sex is always hotter behind the scenes.

wasabi by @angelic-holland literally everything about alice is phenomenal but this is on of my faves. when i read this it makes me feel smarter. also body shots.

say good night by @madmadmilk this writers work never fails to blow me away but this time she managed to encapsulate my entire life. (minus the execution with a very hot and experienced best friend).

buwygf-ib by @hholyholland just ignore tomdaya for a sec and take in the hottest dom!tom i’ve ever witnessed.

cocky by @sykoxartist yeah he’s an asshole but he’s your asshole. at least that’s what he thinks.

sovereign by @farfromparker sub!tom is so hot. man will beg for DAYS.

summer vacation by @kidney9-9  when is hate sex ever like…. not hot as fuck?

ride by @tomhollandsstan face riding. period.

coincidence by @starshinebucky actor!reader and tom fuck… at least they’ll have good chemistry next time.

skin by @hollandbaby dom!tom is not ok with being a sub. unless it’s for you.

you can bet on it by @kiwi-bitchez all of this writers smut makes my pussy throb. this is my fave. just wait for the twist.

a rose blooms by @cornacopicimagines prince!tom drives me wild. but wait til he finds out you’re not a virgin.

begging by @raewritesfiction tom makes you beg for it.

self reflection by @stuckonspidey this is actual proof tom has a praise kink.

minor inconvenience by @angel-spidey toms an idiot but at least he can get you off.

flesh by @starshinebucky cocky tom kills me.

keeping him nice and warm by @marvelouspeterparker mob!tom the gif itself to sends me.

after hours by @cornacopicimagines never had sexual tension with a teacher but this will do.

ANGST

josslyn by @multiharlot messy situation but reader handles it like a champ. if your heart isn’t broken enough, the last line will make sure it’s unfixable for days on end.  

moral of the story by @kelieah listen to the song while you’re at it to make your cry sesh take a turn for the worst. 

cherry by @xoluvx this one hurts real bad. so does the song. 

a complicated love story by @samhollandssweaters an emotional rollercoaster for real.

he dies in the end by @allfandomxreader ignore the title and just cry your eyes out with me.

eighteen by @fancyxholland you’ll be confused why it’s in the angst category but trust me.

all the lies by @peteywillproceed getting cheated on but the girl is toms gf, how do you tell him. 

memories by @nycparkers i sob to this whenever i need a good cry. 

don’t be a fool by @nycparkers breakups that dont end messily make me so fucking jealous.

FLUFF

kiss currency by @madmadmilk borderline smut. confused and oblivious harrison. dialogue inspires me to talk to males.  

plank all over me by @waitimcomingtoo FILRTY TOM! THE BANTER! i really am a whore for well written dialogue. there’s additional parts but i won’t spoil.

 playing cupid by @marvelobsessedteenager you set everyone else up but wait a damn minute how did you forget about tom?

 little flirt by @webslinger-holland oh to flirt with tom while he’s sweaty from intensely dancing for the lip sync battle.

pour it out by @rhapsodyparker i don’t know what it is but famous!reader going on talk shows or having interviews and they ask the reader cheeky questions about tom might be one of my many kinks…

hubby by @t-holland2080 it’s the small things that make me want to bawl my eyes out for being so lonely.

going live by @redrebecca the dialogue makes me cry of happiness! tom doing a live (what a concept).

paddy’s crush by @tom-holland-is-spiderman jealous tom but of his younger brother.

 wannabe by @sailingintothenight the cliffhanger at the end demands a second part.

flawless by @missnxthingg  tom is a simp.

you and me by @sunshinehollandd best friend tom makes me soft.

dick appointments. web shooters. the duality of a man. by @porterporker  it gets a lil steamy but man is “web shooter” a funny name for a dick.

best day by @thollandss dad!tom gives me baby fever even though i am a virg.

 tom asks your dad by @blissfulparker can i just skip through the bad boyfriends and just marry the love of my life already.

baked chicken by @waitimcomingtoo there isn’t a category for awkward but if there was this would be in it.

lover boy by @starshinebucky  tom being so oblivious you like him that you need to call for backup.

afterglow by @wickedholland i wish someone would treat me like this when im drunk instead of leaving me to hold my own hair back.

[baldwinboy5ive]

I call this Cobra Drive. AU where a sad boy meets another sad boy in his building elevator and they just stare longingly at each other for extended periods of time. (Daniel LaRusso, who made the crane kick famous, gets to add to his repertoire of bird karate moves by stomping Mike Barnes to death in the same elevator like a secretary bird.)

I also wrote some crap for this AU, even though I am not much of a fanfic writer. However, it’s not that bad. It’s just regular bad. 

“If I drive for you, you get your money. You tell me where we start, where we’re going, where we’re going afterward. I give you a five minute window when we get there. Anything happens in that five minutes and I’m yours. No matter what. Anything happens a minute either side of that and you’re on your own. I don’t sit in while you’re running it down, I don’t carry a gun, I don’t do karate - not anymore. I drive. Do you understand?” 

The well-rehearsed speech was delivered in an accent that was undeniably East Coast, but from a man who knew well the 100,000 streets of Los Angeles. Daniel ended it every single time with a secret tribute to his beloved mentor, whose life lessons were always punctuated with “Understand?” 

And Daniel did. He always understood what Mr. Miyagi had told him, and replied “Yeah, I understand,” even if some of his lessons had taken awhile to really make their impact on him. 

-----

Daniel moved frequently. It was routine now for him. Funny how things changed. He often remembered how monumental that first cross-country move had been, how the course of his entire life had shifted that summer of 1984. Now, his moves were quick, efficient, and all within LA. 

On his second day in his newest building, Daniel returned to his apartment by elevator. Another building resident stepped in with him, hauling a basket of laundry from the basement. 

He was familiar. Daniel kept his eyes trained at his feet while he felt the familiar man’s gaze on him for a moment. He allowed himself one quick glance, but didn’t manage to time it as well as he’d wanted. The golden-haired man who now shared a building with him was still staring back at him. 

His eyes were beautiful and sad. 

It was Johnny Lawrence. 

-----

“You just move back to LA or something?” was the question Johnny finally settled on after he and Daniel hauled his groceries into his second story apartment. There was too much he wanted to ask. It had been 34 years. Something in those 34 years had hardened the look in Daniel’s eyes.

“No, I’ve been here for awhile.” 

“So just new here?” 

Daniel nodded. 

“What are you up to now, LaRusso?” 

“I drive.” 

“Like, those internet car things?” Johnny asked, a touch of confusion on his face. 

“No, for the movies.” 

“You mean all the car chases and stuff?” 

“Yeah.” 

Johnny let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t that dangerous?” 

Daniel fully met Johnny’s eyes, and stared challengingly, the words “Oh, now you care about my safety and well-being?” hanging between the two of them unspoken. Daniel’s lips quirked into a slight grin. So did Johnny’s. Then Daniel knew. Johnny remembered it all. 

The intensity of Johnny’s bright blue eyes and the pain they carried eventually became too much for Daniel, who was the first to drop his gaze. He broke the silence by saying placatingly, “It’s only part time. Mostly I work at a garage.” 

“Where?” 

“Reseda Boulevard.” 

After a few more beats of silence, Daniel nodded his head towards the teen boy sitting at the kitchen table doing his homework, as if only just noticing him even though he’d rode up in the elevator with them. “He yours?” 

“They sometimes just come with the apartment. Old place here is infested. Overrun with roaches, children, teens. You might want to check under your kitchen counters and shit if you haven’t already, LaRusso.” 

The boy snorted, not offended in the least. “I’m Miguel,” he said. 

A door in the apartment slammed open, and another teen boy wandered into the kitchen. “Who’s this?” he asked, pointing at Daniel.

“This is LaRu- Daniel. Daniel, this is Robby.”

Daniel stared at the two teenagers. Neither of them resembled Johnny. Perhaps Johnny hadn’t been kidding about them surfacing from under the kitchen counters. 

-----

At the garage, a sly smile spread on the face of the man who’d given Daniel all of his jobs. “Oh, you and the kid know each other,” he said, gesturing rapidly between Daniel and Johnny while leaning over the open hood of a car he’d been working on. 

“Don’t,” Daniel warned. He stalked off, but not without grinning at his employer. 

“Uh…” Johnny began. A “He kicked me in the face when we were teenagers, but I did sort of deserve it a little, and it’s actually at least a 126 minute-long story” died on his lips. 

“We’re neighbors,” Johnny said. 

“Ahh,” said Daniel’s employer, as if that was all there was to know. 

Johnny explained in more detail what was going on with his Firebird, and was told that the repairs would take a few days. 

“Miguel, call us one of those car things from your iComputer.” 

“It’s an iPho-” 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” cut in Daniel’s employer. “You and the kid are neighbors! He’d be happy to give you a ride.” 

Johnny met Daniel’s eyes from across the garage. He did indeed look happy.

---

“Hey, I know you. Come on, we met last year! Well - met again. It’s me. Snake. You drove me and Dennis back from Palm Springs. Hey, I got this sweet job planned out --” 

Fury blazed in Daniel’s eyes. Someone both recognizing him and talking to him about his jobs was more than enough to make Daniel disappear for a few months, but this wasn’t just any someone. This was one of Terry Silver’s men. Over the years, Daniel had done everything he could to be free of Terry and his mob. But every time Daniel thought he was safe, eventually, Terry would always come back. And there would always be a job. 

Terry’s man - and therefore Terry himself - reappearing in his life would have been bad enough before, but now? Now he had Johnny. He couldn’t just pick up and leave. He realized with anger burning up in his chest that he didn’t want to pick up and leave. 

Daniel cut Snake off with a low whisper. “How about this? Shut your mouth. Or I’ll kick your teeth down your throat, and shut it for you.” 

All Daniel had wanted was to finish his dinner and coffee in peace, until it was time to drive Johnny to the bar for his night shift. Daniel stared at Snake, never taking his eyes off of him until Snake quietly retreated from the diner. Only then did Daniel feel comfortable returning to his food.

-----

Daniel’s face took on a detached and aloof manner when he addressed the man Terry had sent. 

“When you get your money, his debt’s paid. He’s out for good. And you never go near his family again. Do you understand?” 

-----

Daniel did everything in his power to keep his voice even. Confident. Balanced. But that voice on the other end of the phone would always terrify him. Some things never changed. 

“I’m going to give you a time and a place and you’re going to come and get your money. Do you understand?” 

Terry barked out a laugh. “What do you get out of it, Danny boy?” 

“Just that: out of it.” 

Daniel hung up. For once he had the satisfaction of dictating terms with Terry Silver. 

-----

“They came to my apartment. How did they know where I live?” 

“I told you, I was going to call Kreese, I just wanted him to know that… that it wasn’t about the money… that you’re not interested in the money… that you just did it for him.” 

Daniel exploded at the man who had been his longtime employer. So this was how Kreese and Silver and known it was him. “Why?! You told them about Johnny! Why did you tell them about Johnny?!” 

“Calm down, kid. Just calm down.” 

“I should fucking kill you - you told them about Johnny! That’s how they figured it out, you know - that it was me. You told them about Johnny and then they knew it was me.” 

“I just wanted him to know… that as soon as you returned the money, that was the end of it, that’s all! I didn’t know. I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know?! How was I supposed to know… that everything led to Silver!” 

Daniel’s voice was breaking as he screamed at the old man. Daniel’s eyes were wild and he was breathing hard. Breathe in, breathe out, echoed the voice of his dear sensei in his head. Soon, his racing heart slowed just enough for him to calmly tell his employer, “They came for me, and now they’re going to come for you, too. You have to get out of here. Do you understand?” 

-----

John Kreese pleaded with his lifelong friend. “Anybody finds out you stole from the family, we’re both dead. The money always flows up, Twig. You know that!” 

Terry Silver fell uncharacteristically quiet amidst their shouting match. He looked at Kreese ruefully. “That’s why this driver’s gotta go, Johnny. That’s why he’s gotta go. He’s gonna tie me to this robbery.” 

It was too bad. Terry had always been fond of Daniel. 

-----

Daniel hoped he would never again have to fear for Johnny’s and his kids’ lives. He flicked his eyes up to the rearview mirror. Miguel and Robby were fast asleep in the backseat - and safe. Alive. 

Daniel did, however, find comfort in knowing that he didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to keep his karate hidden and tucked away. If Johnny ever needed it again, Daniel would use it. He’d help Johnny remember his. He thought fondly of the way Mr. Miyagi had once insisted that only Daniel’s root karate came from Mr. Miyagi, and had urged him to make his karate his own. 

If Daniel could do it, so could Johnny. Johnny’s Cobra Kai would be better - different, new. A product of the goodness Daniel was confident Johnny had inside of him. Johnny would use that goodness to teach Robby and Miguel. And Daniel vowed to be there with them. 

If anyone ever again tried to hurt any of them, the four of them would be ready. 

Another Mr. Miyagi lesson surfaced in Daniel’s memories as he continued driving. Back in 1994, Mr. Miyagi had returned to Daniel in LA after a long stay in Boston, and over the course of several days, had told him all about Julie Pierce, and the lessons he taught her. The final lesson had been: “Fighting not good, but if must fight - win.” 

That was what Daniel had done. 

Daniel smiled at the beautiful man in the passenger seat next to him, whose sadness never left his eyes, but who, despite this, could now smile back warmly at him. Daniel checked the rearview mirror once more, never taking his attention from the road ahead of them. Miguel and Robby were both still asleep. 

Daniel turned his gaze back to the road for a moment, feeling the hum of the car around him and those he loved. 

“I’m yours. No matter what. Do you understand?” 

-----

OH SHIT i forgot to mention, the idea for the cobra on the back of the jacket AND for including Robby both come from @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy !!!! Thank you for your moral support and help on these concepts! I always knew I wanted Daniel to be the Driver, so it didn’t even OCCUR to me to have the cobra on his jacket, until @idontknowkaratebutiknowcrazy said it, and then she said he can give it to Johnny later (even though it won’t fit him haha!). Just a note - I changed up the cobra design from the Cobra Kai logo though because the original logo looked kinda goofy as a silhouette. 

[starsandsciss0rs]

Endermango fic (:

Everything happened so fast, he didn't know why, but now he, Purple and Jacob were being attacked by two golems, a story that was better told for later, but in short, they had the misfortune to meet two iron golems at the same time, and they were attacking them!

Mango, gloriously battling with his Golden ax against one of the enemies, was so involved in the fight that he forgot there was more than one, and sadly, he couldn't see the second golem that was rapidly approaching him.

"MANGO LOOK BEHIND YOU!!" Purple yelled, running to get between the second golem, but someone else had gone ahead.

The former king looked back, but instead of taking a hit he got a push from a certain enderman to get him out of the way, sadly that means the mob was the new target now.

Without stopping his steps, the golem knocked Jacob down and basically dragged him towards the ocean where, to Mango's horror, the golem hit him so hard that he fell into the water, the pressure of the blow was so powerful that the enderman sank faster than normally.

Jacob blinded by the pain of the water and the blow, tried to gasp for air, causing the water to enter him quickly and intensify his pain, it was not long before he lost consciousness, quickly sinking into the depths of the ocean.

"Jacob!"

Recovering from the shock, he quickly took off his cloak and then threw himself into the ocean in the same way, desperately looking for the enderman.

"damn damn damn where are you?show up please.." that was the only thing on his mind, as he slowly lost his oxygen.

Luckily he had found the enderman... he was unconscious, right? he should be, he knew that water kills endermans but Jacob had to resist, right? he wouldn't leave him now, would he?

Unfortunately, Jacob's body was too sunken, and he was still sinking, he was almost entering the darkness, but Mango would not give up, he was already losing half of his life but it did not matter, he would come back to life after all, Jacob instead...

Before he could continue, he felt purple arms wrap around his body and almost pull him up, but Mango didn't let go, kicking and even opening his mouth to yell at Purple, but he fell when he noticed that it only sucked the lifeout of him.

He finally gave in to the discomfort of the low oxygen in his body, so all he could do was watch as Jacob's body was consumed by the darkness of the ocean depths.

"why...?"

He questioned it so many times.

"why him?"

Stupid golems...

In the end they killed the golems, but it was not the same anymore.

The orange stickman never gave up, he had been desperately searching for Jacob's body for several days, either in the hope that he was still alive (which was illogical) or just to give him a well-deserved farewell and not be left as a body lost at sea.

Horrible days where he couldn't stop looking at the ocean, days where he threw himself into the sea and repeated the same routine, searching nonstop, there were times when he even died from staying in the water for a long time, but in the end he revived..

He never realized how empty his life was without the enderman, he would never admit that he would miss those shows of affection that the mob gave him, he would never admit that he had managed to develop an appreciation, so that in the end he... dies without grace.

Purple seemed to get over it better than him, of course the sculptor's absence still hurted to them, but they moved on...

But Mango would never get over that loss, the worst of all, and now she would have to bear the "weak" feelings that that artist left him.

In the end, Mango would stare at the ocean, the very place where Jacob and his own happiness disappeared.

Forever.

[idy-ll-ique]

Any Doctors Here?

pairing: mob boss!steve rogers x doctor!f!reader

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

warnings: mentions of burns and hospitals

requested: nope

summary: while visiting his favorite bar, steve stumbles upon a new bartender, but there is something off about her. after a small conversation, he finds out that she is indeed overqualified for the job; she was a jobless doctor in need of money. well, it just so happens that the last doctor that worked for steve quit, there was a slot open...

author's note: hiya peeps enjoy!

masterlist

---

Steve walked into the bar, looking around. All faces turned to him immediately. He smirked slightly when he saw everyone look away, squirming. Steve Rogers was a nationally recognized mobster boss. Sure, he was on the negative side but police had given up on him years ago. He roamed the streets freely now, much to the fear of people.

He wouldn't think of harming an innocent soul, but people didn't know that. He found their fear amusing so he never said anything. He walked up to the bartender, sitting in front of her. She gave him a smile. "What would it be, Mr Rogers?" she asked, turning back to the bottles kept on the shelf behind her.

Steve checked her out while she turned away. He decided that she was pretty, very much so. "Whiskey, please, darling," he told her, leaning against the counter. He also noticed that she was the only one not afraid of him. "What's your name?" he asked her as she prepared his drink.

"My name is no," she sang and he raised an eyebrow at her. Her confidence and sass surprised him. "I'm just kidding! I'm Y/N," she laughed, passing his glass to him. A second later, he laughed, too. "Y/N, pretty name. You aren't afraid of me?" he questioned curiously, downing the whiskey in one go.

"Not really. Why would I be?" she shrugged. "Don't you know who I am?" he asked her, shocked. "I literally addressed you by your name when you came in."

He had forgotten about that.

"Ah, right. Um, okay." For the first time in his life, he was stumped. He never had trouble talking to women, but something about Y/N was odd. He had to keep the conversation going. "So, uh, do you work here?" he blurted out. What if this was her cover and she really was someone else?

Would explain her nonchalance. "I love how you say something so obvious with such a sense of discovery," she smiled sassily, leaning on the counter in front of him. Her sarcasm was getting under his skin now but somehow, he liked it.

She was fierce. "No, I mean, do you work here permanently or is this a sort of part time job?" he rephrased, rolling his eyes. "Part time, you guessed right. I have an MBBS, no job," she chuckled. Ah, a doctor. The fact that she was well-educated sat right with Steve. She behaved like an intellectual. "Oh, that's nice." He ordered a few more drinks.

They continued talking but suddenly heard a scream.

Y/N and Steve turned around to see a man clutching his arm which had a burn visible on it. "Any doctors here?" his girlfriend screamed as the man groaned in pain. Y/N instantly ran towards him, grabbing a bottle of cold water along the way. She opened it and gently poured the water on his arm, which made the man sigh in relief.

"Call an ambulance right now," Y/N expertly told the girl, who nodded. She talked to someone on the phone as Y/N rolled up the sleeves of that man's hoodie. Steve watched all this with a slight smile on his face.

He was well used to having personal doctors and the last guy had just left the job. He felt like Y/N would be the perfect person for the job. She had an education anyway, how bad could it be? Also, he would pay her better than this small bar or any government job could ever. She deserved better pay.

Soon, the girl and her boyfriend were gone. Y/N walked back to the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "So, uh, sorry about that," she muttered, smiling sheepishly at Steve.

"Don't be, please. You saved that man," he swiftly reassured her, shaking his head. Y/N nodded and silence fell between the two of them. "I have to ask you something," Steve blurted out. Y/N looked at him and nodded curiously. He proposed his idea to her and needless to say, Y/N was shocked.

Agreeing to work with a famous mobster was not something she expected would happen that day. She considered for a moment. Working with Steve could be nice…

He told her he would pay her well, she was already sold. She made her decision and nodded. "I agree," she smiled and Steve's eyes lit up with happiness. "Okay, here's my address, will you be able to stop by tomorrow?" he asked, jotting down his address on a tissue. "No problem. Bye!" she waved as he walked out of the bar. Y/N squealed, looking down the tissue paper.

Steve smiled as he walked back home. As he walked home, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. Y/N. Beautiful, sassy, helpful, caring, fierce, intelligent… She was a package deal. A good one, of course. Was he getting a crush on the pretty bartender? He sighed and smiled again as he realized… he was.

Y/N's shift ended 2 hours later. She shrugged on her coat and walked outside, breathing in the outside air. As she walked home, she, too, couldn't stop thinking about the one and only, Steve Rogers.

That man oozed power and dominance wherever he went. He was a wealthy man, considering he dealt with black markets all the time. Not to mention his handsomeness. Y/N knew women who were head over heels for Steve. She used to think they shouldn't be, until she met him tonight.

Steve had been nothing but polite with her. He cracked good jokes and was really not the man Y/N expected him to be. Now that she knew that side of his, she finally acknowledged her crush on him.

Sure, she had a crush on him like the other women. But she kept it hidden given his position and job. A mobster boss? She could do so much better and safer. Y/N sighed as she reached home.

Oh, what will her feelings evolve into?

---

Y/N stood outside Steve's extravagant mansion, reconsidering her decision. She was dressed in a simple, flowy white sundress. She took in a deep breath and walked through the gates. The walk from the gates to the door of the mansion was long, but Y/N appreciated it since it gave her time to look at his pretty garden.

As soon as she walked up the stairs to the door, it opened. Steve stood there, dressed handsomely in a black suit. Steve, when he saw her, nearly choked on his own spit.

The dress she wore was damn close to being mistaken as a wedding dress. Honestly, Y/N looked like a bride to him. His bride, he thought to himself. Stop it, you met her yesterday! Similar thoughts were running through Y/N's head.

"Y/N! So glad you came." Steve smiled broadly to hide his inappropriate thoughts. "Hi Mr Rogers," she waved, letting him wrap his arms around her as he hugged her. "Steve, please." He kept his arm around her as they walked inside, towards her infirmary. Y/N noticed that there were guards outside every room they passed.

Steve, meanwhile, noticed how all the guards were smirking cheekily at him. He went a bit red and glared at them. The two lovebirds finally reached the infirmary of the mansion. Y/N gasped in awe as Steve opened the door to the beautiful room. "This will be your office," he told her proudly and she gave him a broad smile.

"I will love working here!" she squealed, jumping into his arms. Caught off guard, Steve stumbled backwards but hugged her back. After looking around the room, they walked outside. Steve led her up the stairs, where the bedrooms were.

She would be staying there, that would ensure her availability 24/7. It wasn't really a big deal for Steve, the mansion was super big and cozy. Y/N was confused, though. What could be upstairs? To her surprise, Steve showed her to a bedroom. "Um, this bedroom is nice, I guess. But why are you showing me this?"

"You'll be living here," Steve said, shrugging. Y/N's eyes widened. "And who decided that?" she scoffed. "I thought you knew," Steve narrowed his eyes, confused. "I knew that I'd be staying at your place? How?" she yelled. Didn't she wanna stay there? "Because you're working for me!" he yelled back.

His temper snapped. "You don't own me, Rogers, I'm only working for you. You can't tell me where I'm supposed to live and where not," she spat bitterly. Steve glared at her use of his last name. "How else do you think I'm going to ensure you are available everyday?" he shouted, crossing his arms. Both of them held glares on their faces.

Suddenly, Y/N sighed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled and Steve's glare softened. "Don't apologize. I should've told you before," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Do you still want me around?" she asked tiredly, looking at him.

He nodded readily, of course he did. For his sake as well. "Good. When do I move in?" she chuckled. "Any time you want," he told her, smiling. He gave her a tour of the mansion and she left.

---

6 months passed since Y/N agreed to work with Steve. And what fun those months were... Y/N loved living with the mobster boss. He brought patients nearly everyday, though. In her free time, Y/N roamed around the mansion, cooked or went to the garden to enjoy the view.

She loved the garden especially, it was filled with beautiful flowers and there was a swing, too. She and Steve did not hang out much, he was always busy some way or another. Today, that wasn't the case. Y/N had fallen for the man, indefinitely. They found out more about each other when they started living together.

She found out that he was actually a sweetheart under that hardcore facade and Steve found out that he missed being in a steady relationship. He had had girlfriends before but only for nights, or weeks, at length. Never more than that. Now that Y/N was in his life, he wanted nothing more than to be hers. They had lived together for 6 months now and Steve was sure he loved her.

He couldn't find the courage to confess. What if she didn't like him back, thought he was weird and quit working for him? What if she stopped living with him? She loved the mansion, all her needs were met here. Would she give that up just because he confessed? He couldn't risk it. Y/N was worried about the same things but from different perspectives.

What if he fired her, made her pack her bags and leave? She didn't want to go.

Y/N sighed as she lay down on the soft grass of the garden, reading a book. Steve was right next to her, picking the petals off a flower. She noticed him and laughed. "What are you doing?" Y/N asked him, smirking. "She loves me, she loves me not," he smirked back, now used to her sass. "About whom?" Y/N snorted, sitting up.

She was a bit disheartened. "This really great woman I know. She's really beautiful, you know? She's also super intelligent, by the way. And she's caring, kind, helpful… I love her." Y/N's heart shattered at his words. He loved this woman. Meaning, her feelings were useless.

"She sounds lovely," Y/N choked out, looking at her book. "She is. But I don't know if she likes me back. We've only known each other for 6 months, I met her at a bar. There are a lot of disastrous things that could happen if I confessed," Steve sighed, smiling at her. Something struck inside Y/N's head.

He was talking about her!

"Like what?" she asked, now smiling at him. "Oh, I don't know… she wouldn't like me back, move out, stop working for me, agree to never see me again… I don't want that to happen," he chuckled, looking at Y/N. She shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm pretty sure none of it would happen. She would definitely say she loves you back," Y/N whispered. Steve hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. "Do you really?" he asked softly. "I do, Steve, what's there not to like about you?" she chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"The fact that I'm a mobster?" he chuckled into her shoulder, pulling her on his lap. "I don't care about that. You're so much more than that. You're a good man, you treat innocent people nicely… you're a sweetheart when you want to be," she giggled, kissing the top of his head.

Steve pulled away and brought her face closer to his, pressing their lips together. He had waited so long for this to happen. Y/N kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I love you," Steve breathed out, smiling up at his woman. "I love you, too," Y/N grinned. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden together.

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 64: Shower

There were a lot of benefits to living in a muggle flat in London.

Draco never had to worry about being recognized, it was delightfully noisy (always an added bonus when you woke up from a nightmare, it was very grounding), and one of his neighbors was always leaving him baked goods just outside his door.

But there were definite downsides as well. Mostly that when things broke (which pretty much seemed to be always) he couldn't use magic to fix it and had to wait for the muggle repair man.

"You're sure you can't get here any sooner than Friday to fix the shower?" he asked the maintenance man over the muggle mobile he'd purchased shortly before moving in.

"I'll get there as soon as I can but it's Friday at the earliest," the man replied, "right now I have a busted toilet, a broken garbage disposal, a kitchen light repair, a cabinet door replacement, a window that won't open, a door knob that the lock sticks on, and an ac unit that is pumping in hot air."

Draco resisted the urge to tell him to hire some help and sighed, "Right. Thank you."

The man grunted in response and hung up.

After a moment of contemplating his options, he gathered up his bath supplies and marched down the hall. When he'd moved in a girl named Amelia had told him if he ever needed anything just to come knock on her door. She'd said that she and her boyfriend would be happy to help, and she had even mentioned a shower breaking specifically.

Steeling himself he knocked, "Amelia?" he called. "It's Thomas from 116," he added, he'd almost gotten used to calling himself that. "I'm so sorry to bother you, but my shower is broken and-"

"Just a minute!" a distinctly male voice called back.

And he waited, feeling more embarrassed since couldn't recall having ever met Amelia's boyfriend. He hoped that he wouldn't think that Draco was a creep.

"Sorry," the man called, and Draco heard the locks being slid from their places, "Amelia and I broke up but I'd be glad to help wi-"

The door opened and Draco felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. "Potter?" he spluttered

(Read more below the cut)

"Draco Malfoy, what the actual fuck?"

"What are you doing here?" Draco hissed.

Potter drew back like Draco had slapped him, "What am I doing here? What are you doing here?"

Before Draco could respond, Delores from the room between their rooms emerged and Potter grabbed him by the front of his tshirt and dragged him inside of his flat.

Draco barely had a moment to notice that his flat was surprisingly cozy before Potter was standing in front of him once more, arms crossed over his chest. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" Draco exclaimed. "I've lived here for six months!"

"Well I have lived here for almost a year!" Potter replied. "How did you find this place?"

"Do you know how hard it is to find a flat to rent in London?" Draco asked.

Potter paused, "Actually, yes," he replied. "And this place is enough of a shit-hole that there is a rotating tenant-base."

"Where's Amelia?"

Potter's brow furrowed, "How do you know Amelia?"

"I don't," he said with a shrug, "I met her when I was moving in and she told me if my shower ever broke I should just come knock on her door."

Potter sighed, "Damn."

"What?" Draco asked, feeling like he'd missed something.

"Oh nothing," Potter said, waving him off, "I'd just really been hoping that the guy I caught her cheating on me with was the only one."

Draco spluttered, "I was not romantically involved with your girlfriend."

"No," Potter replied, "No, I know. Just we worked opposite shifts so she was home in the day and I was home at night, and," he shrugged, "Well, you know how it goes."

Draco pinched his arm, he must be dreaming.

Potter turned and wandered toward his kitchen and Draco couldn't help but wonder if he was meant to follow him. "Tea?" Potter called over his shoulder.

And really, Draco had just meant to beg to use the shower but that little part of him that desperately loved gossip decided tea was a better plan. "Please."

The other man sent a smile at him over his shoulder, dimple popping up and Merlin, when had Potter gotten this attractive?

"So," he said as he put the kettle on, "What do you do?"

"I'm going to a muggle university, actually," Draco replied as he found a seat on a stool at the island, "studying to be a solicitor."

"Huh," Potter said, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose, "That suits you."

"I don't know what that's supposed to mean," he said, brow furrowed.

"Oh, nothing," Potter assured, "Just you're clever, good at arguing, and good at finding loop holes, I imagine."

At the earnest look on Potter's face, he decided not to take offense. "What is it that you do?"

Potter smiled at him, "I work at an animal shelter."

Draco blinked, he'd never expected that answer.

"I know," Potter laughed, "It's not what anyone expected but it makes me happy and it feels like good work."

The kettle whistled and Potter turned around to fetch down a couple of mugs and make them tea. "How long have you been living out of the wizarding world?"

"A little over a year," he replied. "It was just too difficult," Draco said, "I was mobbed everywhere I went, sent death threats," he added, "Not that I don't deserve them-"

"You don't," Potter said sharply, spinning around to face him. "Godric, Draco, you were just a kid. We all were."

He swallowed and looked down at the island, "Be that as it may," he said carefully, "I think it's easier for people." He made a vague gesture, "Not to have to see me."

"The pressure in the wizarding community is unreal," Potter said, setting a cup of tea along with the sugar bowl in front of Draco before he made his way to his refrigerator, "You still don't take cream, do you?"

"No," he replied with a little smile, pleased that he wasn't the only one to still remember oddities about the other.

"Why don't we go into the living room?" he suggested. "My furniture in there is much more comfortable."

Draco followed along behind him and settled onto what appeared to be the least squishy piece of furniture, a beige chair. Potter seemed to have no such qualms and sunk into a cozy rocking chair. Draco cleared his throat, "You've been gone for how long now?" he asked.

"Almost two and a half years," Potter replied before taking a sip of tea.

"Do you miss it?" Draco asked.

Shrugging one shoulder he answered, "Sometimes. I still go to the Weasley's most Sundays and I go for birthday parties and holidays. It's enough." He took another sip of tea, his eyes glued to Draco in that piercing way of his and it felt like it had been ages since someone had actually seen him. "What about you? Do you miss it?"

"At the beginning," he confessed, "But less now."

Potter hummed, seemingly waiting for Draco to continue

"Did you go to-"

Potter waved him off, "My life is exceptionally boring, I assure you. Tell me about you," he said. "Tell me about school, about what you want to do with your degree, tell me about acclimating to Muggle life," he chuckled, "tell me everything."

And so Draco did. He talked about his classes, talked about how difficult certain parts of living like a muggle were, talked about doing work with children, talked about doing a double major in law and in psychology. Draco talked, and talked, and talked while Harry listened; and he realized it had been a really long time since someone had done this with him.

He was in the middle of a story about how he hadn't understood how pens worked when Harry's mobile rang. With a wince he pulled it out of his pocket, "Sorry," he said, silencing it only for it to start ringing again a minute later. He huffed, "Sorry," he repeated. "It's Hermione and Ron. They'll just keep calling if I don't answer, give me just a minute."

"Of course," he said.

Harry gave him a little smile, "I'll get some more tea," he added before picking up.

Over the tiny little speaker Draco could hear cheering and hollering before a rousing chorus of Happy Birthday was sung and Draco felt the blood drain from his face. He pulled out his own mobile and clicked the wake button. July 31

He felt like such an arse, here he was blabbering away at the other man when Potter probably had a million things he'd rather be doing.

"Thank you," Potter said over the phone from the kitchen. "I'm a bit busy just now," he broke off to listen to some chatter. "Yes. I'll be by on Sunday to celebrate." Another pause, "Yes. Love you all, too. Kisses to Rosie and Teddy."

When he returned he said, "Sorry, you were saying about the pens?"

"I feel like an absolute clot," Draco said.

"What? Why?"

"It's your birthday!" he exclaimed, "and here I've sat for the past two hours talking your ear off about..." he trailed off, "Complete nonsense!"

"Oh, it's fine," he said, waving Draco off, "This is way better than the way I was planning to spend my birthday."

"Oh? Why don't I believe you?" he asked.

"No really," Potter said earnestly. "I was just going to go for a walk and then hang out around the house."

"But why? Don't your friends want to see you?"

"Oh, the Weasleys are away. They went on a trip to Spain; when they made the plans, I'd planned to be on a beach in the Galapagos with Amelia."

"I'm taking you to dinner," he said firmly.

"I couldn't impo-"

"I insist," he interrupted. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

"Well if you insist," Harry said with a laugh.

"Good. I'm going to use your shower and then go get dressed and we're leaving in twenty minutes."

He chuckled, "It's a date."

--------

And it really had felt like a date, Draco reflected as they strolled back toward their apartment building after a long dinner with multiple courses and dessert.

"Thank you, by the way," Harry said, his shoulder bumping lightly into Draco's when they were just outside of their building.

"Don't mention it," he replied. "It's the least I could do."

Harry stopped and looked over at him, so Draco stopped next to him, "It's not, though," he said. "You didn't have to do any of this."

"I wanted to," he huffed.

He started to lean in closer, "Tell me if I'm reading this wrong," he whispered.

"What?"

"This," he murmured before his fingers cupped Draco's cheek and his lips pressed, soft and dry, against Draco's lips.

Harry drew back, "Alright?" he whispered.

Draco's fingers clenched in the front of Harry's shirt and he tugged him back in, slotting their lips together once more. The fingers on Harry's right hand slid through Draco's hair and his other slipped around Draco's back, drawing their bodies flush against one another as Harry's tongue brushed over Draco's bottom lip.

They stood on the sidewalk and kissed for a long moment before Harry pulled back and murmured, "Come home with me?"

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, brow furrowing.

"Never been more sure of anything in my life," he replied, pecking Draco's lips again.

He couldn't help but smile as he nodded his consent and Harry grabbed his hand and dragged him inside and straight to his bedroom.

------

Later, when they were still lying in bed talking about whatever nonsense came into the heads, Harry said, "Draco?"

"Mmmh?"

"This was probably the best birthday I've ever had."

He rolled onto his side so he could see Harry's face illuminated by the moonlight. Harry reached up and brushed his forefinger over Draco's cheekbone and Draco responded, "You've not had many good birthdays, then, have you?"

Harry laughed, "I've had some good birthdays."

"Next year," Draco said before he could think through what he was about to say, "Next year I will give you the best birthday you've ever had."

"Oh?" Harry said, grinning widely at him.

At the sweet, innocent look on Harry's face, he let himself dream, let himself imagine what life could turn out like. He nodded, "I'll wake you up with lazy morning sex, you seem like the type to really enjoy that."

"I am," Harry affirmed, his dimples showing.

Draco leaned in and pressed a kiss to the nearest dimple and said, "Then, I'll take you to Paris for breakfast."

"Ooh, Paris?"

He nodded, "I'll get you strawberry crepes with mounds of whipped cream."

"Sounds delicious," Harry said.

"Then I'll take you to a beach somewhere, Bora Bora maybe," he added, enthralled by the pleased crinkle around Potter's eyes.

He hummed, "I've never been to Bora Bora."

"No?"

Harry shook his head.

"Right, then we'll spend the whole day there, I'll sit under an umbrella all day and pretend to get annoyed when you come to kiss me and get sand and ocean water all over me."

He laughed, "As long as it's pretend."

"Then," Draco said, "I'll bring you back to a little villa that you can see the ocean through the floor and I'll cook you dinner. We'll eat together, then go swimming in the dark."

"Sounds lovely," Harry sighed.

"And then we'll come back and try out the bed that's under the stars," he said, brushing a hand over Harry's waist.

"That sounds really nice," he murmured.

"It's a date, then," Draco said.

He smiled back and echoed, "It's a date."

-------

And, true to his word, one year later Draco took Harry to Paris for breakfast and then to Bora Bora for the rest of the weekend. Harry proposed to Draco the very next morning.

--------

Day 63: Hair | Day 65: Question

[helliontherapscallion]

New Enemies, New Alliances (Sweet Betrayal Part 4)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: Swearing, graphic description of injuries/death, violence, grief, blood, manipulation

Word count: 3,661 

(A/N): Things are starting to get spicy, folks!

“Nice job today, I think you’d actually put up a fight in battle now,” Dream grabbed your hand and helped you up. You basked in the compliment, they were few and far between. Now, if you didn’t pass one of the Badlanders by accident, Dream and Lucius were the only ones to recognize your work. 

You brushed off your training clothes and smiled to yourself when you saw Lucius move to pat you on the back before stopping himself. He’s been around for a month now and he still isn’t used to not being able to touch anyone. You remembered that when he was alive, physical touch was his love language. It must be killing him to not touch anybody. 

“Yeah! I’d hate to be on the other side of your sword, homie!” You have no clue why he started to call you ‘homie’, he hated that word when he was alive. Faintly, you supposed that he must’ve learned it sometime between after he died and when he was looking for you as a ghost. 

“Thanks, guys,” you fiddled with the handle of your sword before swinging it over to rest on your shoulder. The walk home was filled with Lucius and Dream exchanging terrible puns, much to your exasperation. Out of all the things he could’ve kept in his personality after he died, it just had to be his love for puns. 

As the days passed and the war’s climax drew closer and closer, stress was increasing in the White House. Schlatt had become far more paranoid of traitors in the midst of the remaining cabinet, and truth be told you were also growing more paranoid. It was like you and Schlatt were the only ones completely loyal to Manberg anymore. 

Lucius had increasingly grown worried for your well being, always trying to push you to go to bed early and urging you to distance yourself from Schlatt. In your opinion Lucius was insane for even suggesting the latter, Schlatt was everything to you. Without him, you’d be nothing. 

“I really don’t-”

“Lucius, drop it,” you hissed out, rubbing your forehead and returning to your work. You needed to get this paperwork done as soon as you could, otherwise Schlatt would have your ass. 

“I’m not going to ‘drop it’, (y/n). You need a break! All of this,” he swung his arms around to gesture at your office, “isn’t you.” 

“You don’t understand, Lucius,” you bitterly chuckled and threw your quill down onto your desk. The ink that was on the tip splattered over the desk, staining the birch wood black. “This,” you gestured towards the office and walked over to the window. Lucius followed you and looked out at the city. You clasped your hands behind your back and smiled fondly at the sight of the endless buildings. “This is me.” 

“I know you, you aren’t this- this brutal or bloody insane!” Lucius tried to put his hands on your shoulders but stopped himself, settling for crossing them across his chest. “You’re caring, funny, ambitious, and most importantly agreeable! Now, if someone even slightly crosses you, your first thought is revenge.” 

“That person was a coward through and through. Aren’t you happy that I’m finally standing up for myself?” 

“Standing up for yourself? Standing up for yourself? You get stepped on constantly by that ram asshole that you call a father, you call that standing up for yourself?” 

You spun around to face him, looking down at his face with a harsh glare, “you have no right to bring Schlatt up, he’s done everything for me while you were just galavanting around the SMP doing Ender knows what! He’s the one that took me in. He’s the one that cared for me. He’s the one who made me who I am today. He’s the one that made me less of a coward.”

“Are you serious? He’s the one that completely fucked up your life! When was the last time he’s said anything that bordered on nice to you? When was the last time he said he loves you? I just want the best for you, (y/n),” he ran a hand through his hair and looked up at you in desperation and frustration. “You wouldn’t be this mentally unstable or this disfigured if you would’ve just stayed away from him like I told you to do when I was alive.” 

“You clearly don’t know what’s best for me if you’re too blind to know that Schlatt changed me for the better,” you scoffed to yourself. “That person left the second I killed you.”

You watched as his already pale skin blanched impossibly and his eyes widened in horror. “You- you what?” 

So he doesn’t remember his own death? How interesting. 

“You don’t remember? You were my first kill, I can still remember the crunching sound your skull made and how warm the blood that splattered on my face was when I drove that pickaxe through your forehead. The power I felt after I came to terms with the fact that I just took someone’s life? Exhilarating.” 

You smirked down at his terrified face, taking great pleasure in the fear he felt. He took several steps back from you, almost tripping when his heel caught the edge of the carpet. Grinning, you followed him until he was pressing himself up against the wall. You leaned down close to his ear and whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like it before. You were my first friend and my first kill, kudos to you.” 

He ducked out of your presence with haste and distanced himself from you, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. He stuttered out a response, “do you even regret it?” 

Regret was something you always pushed deep into your subconscious, “regret is for losers, winners own up to everything they do,” Schlatt’s voice echoed in your mind. You didn’t like thinking about your regrets, however the delicious fearful tone that shook Lucius’ voice was too alluring to ignore. He deserved every single ounce of the fear that racked his body, the argument that had raged on previously still filling you with anger. You’d humor him for now.

You certainly regretted it when you first killed him prior to losing your first life, if losing your first life is anything to go by. You hadn’t even done it on purpose; it was simply a freak accident in an abandoned mineshaft. You didn’t know that when you and Lucius discovered it that you’d leave without him. You could remember exactly what happened that day.

“Luci, wait up!” You pushed yourself to run faster into the cave, chasing the short teenager. He threw his head back and laughed, “catch me if you can!” 

You grinned happily to yourself, “I’ll catch you faster than you can say a damn pun!” 

You followed him deeper and deeper into the cave, passing different assortments of ores and jumping over crevices along the way. The carefree laughter that bounced off from the stone walls mingling with the slapping of both of your leather boots against the floor. 

Despite the sharp twists and turns, you managed to stay hot on his trail. Eventually, he led you deep into a mineshaft. That was where you couldn’t keep up with him anymore. By the time you followed him around a corner, he was nowhere to be seen. You slowly came to a stop and looked around at the dark hallways. This had to be the largest mineshaft you’d ever seen, it was seemingly endless with a labyrinth of twisting halls. You looked behind you only to be met with even more dark halls. You couldn’t even remember where you came from, everything in here looked the same. 

In the distance, you heard the hissing of cave spiders and the pitter pattering of their multitude of feet on stone. You swallowed nervously and took out your pickaxe, mentally scolding yourself for not thinking to bring your sword. Every single sound made you jump out of your skin and press yourself up against the wall, preparing yourself to swing at any movement. 

Eventually, you gathered the courage to start to wander the maze of hallways. You gripped the handle of your iron pickaxe in a vice grip, ready to kill any mob that would potentially sneak up on you. 

“Luci, please come out. I’m starting to get scared.” 

You paused to strain your ears for any potential reply, only to sigh to yourself when you heard nothing but cave spider sounds and the faroff dripping of water. With a steadying breath, you ventured further into the mineshaft. 

As you passed a hallway, you saw sudden movement from the corner of your eye. Squeezing your eyes shut with a small yelp, you spun around, raised your pickaxe, and swung it down with all your might. 

In an instant, you heard a sharp gasp. When you felt your pickaxe make contact with something, a sickening combination of a crunching and squelching noise accompanied the feeling of something warm splatter across your face. You peeked your eyes open to see what mob had attacked you. 

Instead of a zombie or… or whatever your mind was expecting to see, Lucius stood there looking at you with his eyes bulging and his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Your hands left the pickaxe and flew up to your mouth as you stepped back in horror at what you’ve done. As soon as you dropped the pickaxe, Lucius’s body dropped with it. He fell to the stone ground limply with a thud, landing on his side with his arms and legs awkwardly sprawled out. 

You stood frozen as you watched his body start to convulse before falling still completely after what seemed like hours. Nothing but the roaring of blood in your ears and the obnoxiously loud thumping of your heart in your throat was heard. You finally snapped out of your trance when you saw his body still and started to dissolve in glowing golden dust. 

“No, nonononono what the fuck did I just do?!” You dropped to your knees next to his body, feeling icy dread as you saw the telltale sign of death floating from his body. Gritting your teeth, you pressed your hands over his limp arm where the majority of the dust was coming from in a desperate attempt to potentially save him. He was already losing his warmth, you could feel him rapidly cooling under your hands. To your terror, the dust merely slipped through the cracks of your fingers. 

Strangled sobs left your mouth as you removed your hands and dragged his upper body onto your lap. You lifted him up and hugged him as tight as you could, once again pressing your hands over the glowing gold, trying and failing to keep his body in one piece. You hated how he was slowly lightning as his body was dissolving. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeated to him like a mantra. “I’m so fucking sorry Luci, come back.” 

Just before he fully left you, you buried your face into the crook of his neck, praying to whatever gods were above that he’d just wake up and laugh loudly. 

“You should’ve seen your face,” he’d tease you, “I really got you good this time, didn’t I?” 

He’d then realize just how terrified you were, and he’d then hold you close to him while humming your song over and over. He’d tell you, “turn that frown upside down! You’re never fully dressed without a smile.” He’d put his pointer fingers on the corners of your lips and lift it into a smile, telling you to “fake it til you make it” and that “your smile is your best asset to use against someone.” 

You’d ask him in a bout of confusion, “but then you’d be vulnerable! Isn’t it better to just… hide it all?”

He’d give you that dazzling smile of his and gently tap your nose with a finger, “hiding everything behind a smile is better than being a husk of a person. I know there’s a constant happiness deep down in you, I’ve seen it and it’s absolutely beautiful. C’mon,” he’d start to jab your sides lightly, “give me a smile!”

You’d shove his hands away from you with a small, genuine smile. He’d then haul you up to your feet and lead you out of the mines, pulling you behind him as he ranted constantly about what he had planned for you both for the day with his signature blinding smile. 

But that didn’t happen.

Soon enough, you were holding nothing in your tight grasp and your face was hovering midair with something coming to rest in your lap. As you pried your eyes open and saw the bloodied pickaxe that laid in your lap and the blood that covered your clothes and slicked your hands, a guttural scream ripped itself from your throat. You’ve never screamed so loudly or so intensely; you were unsure if the copper you tasted in the back of your throat was from your fried vocal cords or from Lucius. 

You stayed in that spot crying until you couldn’t anymore. The full reality of the situation hit you as you finally found your way out of the cave after days of wandering. Not knowing where else you could go, you stumbled to Schlatt and Quackity’s house. 

The second Quackity opened the door and saw you sobbing and splattered with blood looking like you haven’t eaten or drank anything in days, he immediately took you into their household and sat you on the edge of the bathtub. He was the one that cleaned the blood off from your face with a warm washcloth and held you to his chest after you cried out when the feeling of the warm water was too similar to the blood that had splattered your face days before. 

Schlatt had been the one to coax you to eat something after you had passed out in Quackity’s arms, whether due to lack of sleep or nourishment, you didn’t know. Alongside that, he was the first one you talked to about a couple of days into your stay with them. 

Though you never told them what happened to your late best friend and what you did to him, they fully supported you and slowly nursed you back to the point where you could keep yourself alive without their constant aid. Whenever you’d have nightmares of the incident, Schlatt would be quick to make you realize that you were in their guest bedroom and not deep inside of a mineshaft while Quackity would stay by your side throughout the night softly humming small tunes. 

Though everything came crashing down when Philza showed up at their door one day and drugged you home, your time with them solidified your suspicions that you could be loved. 

You blunk, the scene of the blood spattered stone being replaced with your office and the very boy you accidentally killed cowering in the far corner of your room. He was staring at you like you were a starving lion and he was a cornered gazelle, watching your every move vigilantly. You couldn’t blame him, he was in the same room with his murderer after all.

“...I didn’t mean to kill you; I was terrified at the time, I couldn’t believe that I killed my best friend. Hell, I even killed myself because of the guilt.” 

Though a brief flash of sadness reflected across his face, he hadn’t budged from his place with his eyes still trained on you, “t-the past doesn’t matter. Do you regret it now?”

You once again paused, the question of ‘do you regret it’ circulating your mind once more. If Lucius hadn’t died that day, you wouldn’t be the person you were today; you’d still be getting stepped on by everyone. You’d still be a coward, a spineless nobody. You wouldn’t be happy. 

Though you hated yourself for even thinking about this, you questioned if you were truly happy here. You had everything you’ve ever wanted here: the power that you craved, a surefire means of getting your revenge, and living with the person that had constantly supported you. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt like something was missing. Yes, you’ve felt like that your entire life, but lately it felt like a massive, evergrowing void from deep within your core was swallowing everything within you. Maybe Lucius was right. Maybe-

“Why are you hesitating?!” Your eyes snapped to Lucius, surprised at his outburst. Now instead of the petrified look on his face just moments before, a spiteful one replaced it. “Why the fuck are you hesitating?” 

“Lucius-” 

A bitter chuckle interrupted you, “the fact that you’re hesitating tells me everything I need to know. I really thought the real you was somewhere deep within you, but you were right! This is the real you... You really are the monster everyone says you are.” 

Before you could say anything, he fazed through the door leaving you standing in the middle of your desolate office. It felt like a spike was driven through your heart, you never would’ve expected Lucius to say anything like that. Not Lucius, never Lucius.

The pleasure that coursed through your veins previously during the argument had long since fleeted and been replaced with something you vowed to never feel again: regret. Disgust hit you full force as you remembered the delight and satisfaction that filled you at the sight of his fear. Your first and closest friend that stuck with you through thick and thin, his utter fear gave you pleasure. You really were a monster, weren’t you?

A knock sounded at your door, making you jump out of your skin. 

“(Y/n), it’s time for our session.” Dream’s voice sounded through the thick doors. You sighed and looked at your suit, you weren’t even dressed properly. 

“I’m not ready yet, I will be in about five minutes.” Your tone wavered slightly, making you hope that Dream wouldn’t comment on it.

“Is everything alright? I’m coming in.” 

The door opened to reveal Dream wearing his usual lime green hoodie and his signature smiling mask. His curls bounced as he made his way over to you and examined your face. 

“You look like shit,” he mused, “you know, you don’t need that ghost. He’s just been holding you back this entire time.” 

“Well,” you crossed your arms and looked off to the side, “he isn’t in the picture anymore.” 

He was silent for a moment before he walked over to your couch and sat down haphazardly, gesturing for you to do the same. When you did, he hummed, “you know, Lucius isn’t the only one holding you back from your full potential.”

“Who is then?” 

“Schlatt.” 

Schlatt’s name sent ice through your veins, your fingers growing numb and your throat drying up. 

Just as you opened your mouth to object, Dream raised a finger to silence you. “He can’t even run his own country that he claims to be so proud of. In fact, he’s making you do all his dirty work while he gets drunk off his ass, not even recognizing you for your work. Everything you’ll ever do, even if you half ass it, is always going to surpass him at his best... He’s going to fire you soon, you know.”

You felt truly helpless in that moment, “what? He needs me, he-”

“As soon as the war ends, he’s just going to toss you aside just like everyone else in your life has. Just like Philza has, and now just like Quackity, the Badlanders, and Lucius has. But…” 

He turned his head towards you and tilted it slightly. You hesitated before clearing your throat, “but what?” 

“I can help you. I won’t throw you out like you’re a piece of garbage; I’m not a brain dead idiot like they are. I see your potential, and you’re going to absolutely thrive if you accept my help.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, “...what’s the catch?” 

“Ever the vigilant one; so wary of the world at such a young age, so smart,” he chuckled to himself. “What you have to do is simple, not even a moron like Schlatt could fuck it up. I’ll do all the work here, all you have to do is pledge your undying loyalty to me. Of course, you could stay here,” he released a long sigh, “and waste your potential while simultaneously inevitably getting abandoned, or you could break the cycle by working with me and reaching your full potential; I’ll never abandon you like they all did. Are you in?” 

He stuck his hand out towards you and held it in the air, waiting for you to seal the deal. You stared at it as you contemplated his offer. 

Though the thought of Schlatt throwing you out crushed your heart, you wouldn’t be lying if you said you expected him to do so sooner or later. With his ever growing dependence on alcohol, his judgement has grown increasingly more clouded. The furthest corner of your mind acknowledged that he was going to abandon you sooner or later as the abuse got worse, but your conscious mind refused to even think about him not being in your life. 

Maybe it was time to turn a new leaf, Dream had said that you hadn’t reached your full potential yet and everything here was holding you back. You trusted him, he had proved to be a good mentor and a good person during your training sessions. He proved to genuinely care about you. 

“Well, are you in or not? I’d hate to see such potential get wasted because someone is stuck in the past.” 

You slapped your hand into his and shook it firmly, “I’m in.” 

His mask lifted up slightly as he smiled underneath it. He shook your hand and matched your firmness, “excellent.”

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@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r  @esylwen  @seraphsema  @boiled-onionrings  @smolgreenybeany  @louistommosnesquickmilk  @galaxios  @ryxjxnnx  @autumnpleaves  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @0ton1n  @self-righteous-dumbass  @a-simp-for-block-people  @fortunatelylazystranger  @m1lkmandan  @mirios-sunflower  @ahmya-4  @shinipii  @noyasblush  @auroraskyfall  @cryptocry  @hee-hee-haw  @blackstar-gazer​

Gender neutral reader:

@totem-awooga  @parkeepingparker  @whatislifebutlemons

Sweet Betrayal:

@zefrenchturtle  @smolgreenybeany  @wouldyoulikesomepollen  @savleftus  @bonkaloid  @prickypearpropaganda  @marceline1212  @simp-of-newyork  @wasteofspacze  @mossanon  @hee-hee-haw  @keiarma  @expir3d-m1lk  @seraphsema  @aiyncel  @louistommosnesquickmilk  @xx-smiley-xx  @maelstromania  @miloisagoodboy  @boiciph3r  @izuruamme  @sticksdoesart  

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette Changes Schools: A funny little Lila salt prompt

So, there are a lot of ‘Marinette changes schools’ au’s and I love a whole bunch of them don't get me wrong. BUT the one thing I haven’t seen yet is Marinette changing schools not because of Lila or salt but simply because her parents are moving and they want her to attend a school close to home. So without further ado let me sell you on my little idea: 

Lila has been plotting weeks worth of plans and lies, she’s thought up some sob stories about being stalked, about near death experiences, about celebrities that are like her family. She has plans for Marinette all the ways she could make the girl look bad and all the ways she could force Adrien to see her. That all goes out the window one day when she gets to school and it's a sob fest. There is a clear air of dread and dismay, the blue skies she saw on the way to school replaced with heavy storm clouds. And when she gets to class it's worse. Marinette and Alya are hugging and crying, Adrien looks like he's been shot, Nino and Kim are demanding to know ‘why’ even Chloe looks upset, her blue eyes a little glassy. Lila quickly learns why, Marinette’s parents' business is doing GREAT so great in fact that they have decided to open a second location! The twist? They also decided to move INTO the new location and with it being on the other side of Paris and her parents fears for their daughters safety that means Marinette is moving to a new school!

Now Lila doesn’t even have to school her face into a practiced expression of shock. She genuinely is shocked here she’d been planning months in advance picturing the ways she would destroy her rivals life and steal her friends! And now just like that Marinette is MOVING? Of course Lila quickly decides this is a good thing! After all if Marinette is out of the picture ruling the school will be that much easier. Sure Chloe might be queen bee but with Marinette gone people will be looking to replace her! In walks Lila Rossi, a gorgeous upstart model with a heart of gold and connections coming out of her bangs! She’d rule the school and Adrien would fall for her, then Marinette would probably come crawling back desperate for her old friends only to learn she’d snatched them all up! It was brilliant! And with Marinette gone she could probably do it in record time! So Lila covers up her smirk and says she’s devastated to hear that the twin tailed girl would be leaving and begins plotting.

In the month that follows Lila leaves Marinette alone letting her have her friends for what would be for the last time. After all if everyone still loved the designer when she left they’d be all the more eager to replace her with a new and better version. Of course just because Lila is playing nice doesn’t mean she enjoys it. Alya is practically glued to the girl and ignores Lila even when she’s not trying to sabotage Marinette. Adrien is acting like his life is ending and all anyone will talk about is Marinette. When she checks social media it's all just pictures of ‘old-great times with Marinette’ or new photos and videos of helping the girl pack up and move into her new room, which Lila seethes about for a week when she sees the photos of the spacious luxurious room with a private bath. Apparently the Dupain-Cheng’s new bakery was in a pretty ritzy rich neighborhood. During school Marinette is mobbed by a constant stream of people begging her to stay and when they accept that not happening they all at least beg her to ‘come back and visit’ Marinette promises and Lila has to hide her snort. Fat chance of that actually happening. 

Finally the last day arrives and Lila has to hold back the urge to gag as everyone fills the nearby park giving Marinette gifts and heartfelt goodbyes. Adrien is the last one to offer his gift and Lila seethes as Marinette gingerly opens the box with a gasp and pulls out two brand new pink hair ribbons, and Adrien goes on to say that they’re made of imported silk! SILK, as if the little baker brat deserved silk! The whole exchange is cliche and romantic as Marinette removes her current hair ribbons to tie in the new ones and Adrien ties the old ones around his wrist like some idiot who doesn’t realize what a love struck longing look he's giving his ‘good friend’. But Lila just keeps reminding herself its just a bit longer and sure enough not long after the hideously gooey exchange between Adrien and Marinette is over the designer is leaving with more tears and farewells. FINALLY Lila thinks she can get back to what matters! Ruling her empire.

As it turns out ruling her empire is not what she thinks. For the first month after Marinette leaves all anyone will talk about is the photos she’s posted online. The first week its ALL about HER new school is a private well known academy with uniforms, and isn't Marinette cute in it? And look at her in her custom black kitty thigh highs? Lila wants to scream, but not as much as when she catches Adrien drooling over the photo of said thigh highs and twirling the old nasty hair ribbons around his wrist. The second week its all about the video tour of her new home and school that Marinette sent Alya. Lila glares the whole time as Alya puts the video on the projector at lunch so everyone can see the big new gorgeous bakery and the beautiful house on the second floor and her stupid big bedroom that should belong to someone like herself and not some bratty bakers daughter! By the third week Lila has had enough and fakes some nasty texts from Marinette hoping to speed up the process of helping her classmates move on to HERSELF. It backfires spectacularly with Alya going on the warpath to learn who would dare frame Marinette now that she’s gone. Lila is starting to realize that somehow Marinette has reached a higher level of popularity now that she’s gone. But she reminds herself it won't last forever that in ‘just a little bit longer’ everyone will forget the baker. Right?

A little bit longer. Never happens. Lila asks the girls to hang out that weekend with plans of winning them over with some juicy celeb story? Alya says they all already made plans to hope aboard the train to spend the whole weekend at Marinette’s new place! Lila tries to corner Adrien into a date after a photo shoot. He disappears and all she hears from the workers on set is that he's been looking up some new bakery on the other side of town. [Marinette is suddenly being visited by Chat Noir every other night but she figures she must have moved closer to where his civilian self lives if hes dropping by so much.] She tries to throw a party for the class? They can't. Marinette will be coming out to the park today! With her new school friends!

AH HA! Lila see’s opportunity and decides to tag along. After all if Marinette has new friends Lila can twist it! She’ll whisper about her replacing them all! Make them hate Marinette’s new friends! Fill them with jealousy till they hate Marinette! It's BRILLIANT! And, it fails in less than two minutes, with Alya learning about Aurore being a ballet dancer and the two girls bonding over their mutual love of DANCE?? How the heck was Lila supposed to know Alya had been a champion ballet dancer in her younger years! Then Nino is bonding with some kid named Allen or whatever about classical vs modern music and how to blend the two! And some kid named Claude is joking with Kim, Max, and Alix! And this is definitely not how things were supposed to go!

The worst part is Adrien, who is passive aggressively fighting for Marinette against Kagami AND Felix who are both all too eager to show how ‘close’ they’ve gotten to the baker's daughter while Adrien’s been across the city. Kagami is all to happy to show off that she ALSO bought Marinette some new silk hair ribbons [in a red shade that happens to match her fencing uniform] while Felix eagerly wisks Marinette away the moment Kagami and Adrien are distracted the two fencers find him openly flirting with an oblivious Marinette her hair down because ‘oh felix was nice enough to help me get some leaves out of my hair and said i should leave it like this!’ [while both Kagami and Adrien agree she looks beyond cute they know this means war.] Needless to say Lila didn’t realize that Marinette was that damn popular with men and woman.

The week after the meet up Lila is worn so thin she’s ready to snap. Not only did the class not get jealous but they actually became FRIENDS with all of Marinette’s new buddies and were planning many more meet ups including a paintball war over the baker girl that saturday. Adrien had taken to openly mumbling to himself about changing schools and how he ‘cant believe’ his own flesh and blood would so openly flirt with HIS very good friend! And what was with Kagami showing off how easily she can pick up and carry Marinette? And why did she invite Marinette to watch their next tournament! He needed to train, what if he lost?? In front of Marinette?! And then she thought he was too weak to keep her safe like all good friends are supposed to do! Clearly Kagami was trying to replace him as Marinette’s very good friend! Poor Nino who was sitting next to the boy had actually volunteered to switch with Lila but she came up with a lie to avoid it, she’d had enough of hearing about Marinette from Alya and Juleka and the rest of the girls, she didn’t also need to hear it from Adrien! 

It all comes to a head that Saturday during the paintball tournament when Lila now at her wits end her plans out the window her schemes barely thought out hopes to find something ANYTHING to ruin Marinette’s day and reputation and everything. But Lila just so happens to get completely pelted with paintballs everytime she so much as moves and then later gets ignored when trying to wow Marinette’s new friends, and then gets called out by Felix and Kagami snaps and finally she snaps and SCREAMS and runs off and not even a dark little butterfly comes to help her ruin the perfect day. As it turns out Hawkmoth was a little preoccupied with trying to save his business after all the computers and data involved in his precise scheduling were mysteriously corrupted suddenly freeing up his son's time and schedule so he could spend more with HIS very good friend and no one else's. Kagami and Felix apparently had the same idea as when he gets to her new house their already their doing their best to get on her parents good side.

Basically just give me some comedic, fluffy, Lila salty, Marinette changes school fics. Because I love them ok.

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[vendettaparker]

Talking to the Moon [P.P]

Summary: When Peter’s identity is leaked, he is forced to leave you and his old life behind, shattering your heart in the process. 

Pairing: Peter Parker x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: ANGST, like straight up rip your heart out. Far From Home spoiler (kinda), Endgame spoiler (kinda)

a/n: so if you couldn’t tell this is based off of the song ‘Talking to the Moon’ by Bruno Mars. its a loose interpretation. i’ve been planning an angsty fic like this for a while. angst is my favorite genre of fic, especially when it has a hopeful or fluffy ending. so this one DOES have a hopeful ending and potential for a sequel,, so yuh, enjoy! <3

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Three years, two months, and 14 days. That’s how long it had been since Peter’s identity was leaked. That’s how long it had been since he left you. For good. 

     Peter had been frantic after that news broadcast aired. He webbed back to the compound immediately, crying the whole way. He was scared for himself, sure, but the fear he felt in the pit of his stomach for May, Ned, MJ, you. That was the reason for his tears now. He could hardly breathe by the time he made it to the compound. Happy, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky meeting him as he burst through the large floor to wall windows in the main room. The frantic yelling, pleas, and cries coming from the main room were what alerted you to his presence. When you walked in he was a mess. Crying, heaving with anxiety about how scared he was. Peter had always been a sensitive, emotional boy, but he always got over his shit eventually. But this? This, seemed like the end for him. 

     You ran up to him, shushing him and holding him. Trying to tell him to simply “breathe”. All he could say, over and over again like a mantra was a schloo of “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I love you. I’m so sorry.” Your heart broke. How could fate be so cruel to the sweetest boy? The one who was the most deserving of all the happiness life could possibly offer. The rest of the team had shown up within the next hour. Happy, Nick Fury, Maria Hill, and Pepper also present. Peter had calmed down slightly, but he knew, he just knew, this was the day he had to say goodbye. He had had this talk with Mr. Stark back when he had stopped his first villain, Vulture. Tony knew the type of sick monsters out there who would love to get their hands on the boy behind the Spider-man mask. He and Peter had developed a plan in the tragic case that Peter’s identity should be released, at least, not on his own terms. Tony’s plan was for Peter to run away. Leave. Take nothing with him but the clothes on his back, and even then burn those clothes the minute he could. Tony knew. He knew these dangers. And worse, he knew the consequences. 

     May had come to the compound the second she got the call. She knew as well. Peter knew. She knew. Tony, even in his grave, knew. Everyone knew. Everyone but you. 

     Peter had a getaway car and a destination ready within another hour. He wouldn’t disclose it to anyone. He took you aside, gently stroking your cheek to wipe the hot tears that never seemed to cease. “Hey, hey, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.” He whispered, choking up on every other word, trying to be stronger, just a little stronger, for you. “I have to go now. I’m so so sorry. I love you so much.”

     “It’s okay Peter,” You sniffled, pushing his bangs back and giving him a sad smile. “I’ll miss you, but I’ll be here when you get back. Don’t worry.” 

     Peter’s lips quivered and he heaved another sob. “No, (Y/N). I-I’m not coming back.” You took your hand back as you felt the pressure of tears building behind your eyes. 

     “W-what? No, this—it’s just temporary. Until we can—Fury and Pepper—We can fix this.” You stuttered anxiously, hoping your words would convince him that this was okay. That everything would be okay. 

     “We can’t, (Y/N). It’s done.” Peter spoke, his voice hardly making it to a whisper. 

     “No!” You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to hold him closer. “Please. Please. Please. I-I can’t! You can’t! I—You’re all I have!” You were sobbing uncontrollably now. The weight of the situation finally caving in and crushing your heart and soul. “Please! I’ll do anything, I’ll protect you! Please!” 

     Your meltdown didn’t help Peter one bit, if anything, seeing how desperate you were to keep hold of him, to just love him; that broke him more. “I’m sorry, please forgive me. Please.”

     “How can I? You’re killing me.” You whimpered into his chest, tears soaking through his black sweatshirt. “I can’t— I just— I can’t!”

     The whole team heard. No walls were thick enough to block out the heartbroken sobs from the two teenagers in love. Fury was the one to finally bring an end to it. Nobody else having the heart to pry you from each other. Even Fury felt his own stoic exterior cracking. 

     You were in hysterics, clawing, and grabbing at Peter’s sweatshirt, hair, face, anything you could grab. It didn’t matter if you hurt him at this point, he’d heal. But if he left you, you knew you’d never recover. Fury had put you in a chokehold while yanking you back. Peter just heaved and heaved, his sobs getting louder and his chest getting tighter. May rushed over to him and took his hand, placing his head in her chest. 

     Fury yanked you back more, but you still refused to quit. Fury released his chokehold, not wanting to do any real damage to you. Right as you were released, Wanda came up behind you and placed her hands on your head, red magic already starting to swirl. 

     “No, please.” You wheezed, trying to get a fresh breath of air. “He’s all I have.”

     Wanda looked at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry.”

     Without so much as a flick of her wrist, you were out, descending into darkness. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Peter left after that. The car taking him away, and you hadn’t seen him since. As the months went on you never really recovered. Never really felt whole again. You just survived. That was all. You went through the motions of everyday life, but never truly felt like you were living. Two weeks after Peter left, May left with Happy. They moved to California, living there ever since as well. They got married last year. You were all invited and everyone went. Everyone but you. You missed May and Happy, but it still hurt. Plus, you were busy anyway. After you graduated high school, you flung yourself into the avenger lifestyle, fully immersing yourself in it. You went on every mission possible. Did all the paperwork you could. You did anything and everything you could to keep yourself busy. Stop yourself from feeling the pain that had stopped feeling like a searing stab and had now turned into a dull ache. A new constant in your life. 

     Nights were the worst though. The only time you couldn’t be constantly avenging or working yourself to the bone on new suit technology. The only time you had to think and feel. The only thing keeping you going was the hope that Peter was still out there. Somewhere, anywhere, missing you as much as you were missing him. Watching the same moon you watched. Basking in the same sun that shined on you every day. Every horrible, miserable day. 

     “(Y/N)?” the quiet, soft voice of Pepper breaking you out of your headspace. You hummed a response and looked up at her, waiting for her to continue. “Did you hear what I said?”

     “No, sorry.” You responded sheepishly. Pepper’s gaze softened. She took in your lean figure and pale face, eyes seeming to be sunken in from the dark circles. “I was just finishing up this briefing of my last mission.” 

     “You went alone?” Pepper asked, concern washing over her features.

     “It was a simple one. Just took out a mob, was done in like, four hours.” 

      Pepper sighed. “(Y/N)—”

     “Pep, it’s fine. It was so easy, anyone could have done it.” You cut her off, turning back to your laptop, typing away. 

     “It’s not just that though. It’s all of this. This whole funk you’re in. The same one you’ve been in for years, (Y/N).” Pepper waved her hands around to emphasize her point. “We all see it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. He wouldn’t want this.” 

     Your whole demeanor changed. The solemn, yet calm veneer breaking. “It doesn’t matter what he wants, Pepper! I didn’t want this. All I wanted was him. For the rest of my life. Nothing else would matter, as long as I had him to get me through it. But I don’t have him. I have nothing. He was it for me. He—” You sobbed, tears finally running down your face in an uncontrollable waterfall. “I feel like I died. Like I am just a spectator, no longer doing anything of interest to myself.” 

     Pepper pulled you into her so fast. She was always quick to console you. The months after Peter left she was the only one you could stomach seeing. “It’s okay. I know, shh, I know.” Pepper was tearing up now too. She knew you never got over it. But now seeing with her own eyes how broken you’d really become. The reality hurt. “He’s out there, okay? And it’s going to be okay. He’s okay. We’re okay.” 

     You just cried. That’s all you could do. The more you tried to talk about it the stronger the urge to cry was. Pepper just hummed and held you. Stroking your hair until you fell asleep. 

     When you woke up you were in your room. It was dark and the moon was shining through the opened window. You just stared at it, closing your eyes and imagining Peter was staring at it too. The same one. Thinking about you, just like you were thinking about him. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

     Another few weeks went by. The same routine, the same empty feeling consistent in your body. Nothing changed. The revelation that you were, in fact, not okay didn’t fix anything. It still hurt. You were still broken.

     You were in the training room, sparring with Wanda when the melodic tune of your ringtone rang through the gym, echoing off the walls. You put your hands up in defense to stop Wanda from continuing the match. Wanda whipped her hands around and brought your phone to you in a wisp of red magic. 

     “Thanks.” You mumbled, wiping your sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand and taking the phone from the air. Wanda nodded and jumped out of the ring to grab her water bottle. 

     You looked at your phone still ringing, seeing an unfamiliar number, but taking in the location: Budapest, Hungary. You answered the call bringing the phone up to your ear “Hello?” You asked, shifting from one foot to the other waiting for a reply. A beat of silence pasted before you heard a tired, yet all too familiar voice on the other end. 

     “(Y/N)?”