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karasunology · 4 years

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━ ❛ ➶ LOVE IN TRANSLATION ❜

➜ a walk through of tsukishima's love languages told through headcanons.

-ˏˋ ➶ character(s) ━ tsukishima kei <3

[ ♡ ] you've received one love note from jae ! would you like to read it ?

💌 . . . finished writing this 8 minutes before the day ends, and i'm already drowsy y'all. but i had another headcanon to write for iwaizumi😔✋ so f.

💌 . . . edit, now i'm posting this and realized i'm better at writing whenever i'm half asleep😌 anyways, hope you bubs enjoy this !! <33 aone would probably be next i hope. also requests are open!! almost done with my inbox & i have nothing to do, so send an ask and i'll write em.

TSUKISHIMA KEI.

➜ tsukishima, just like iwaizumi, is not the best at pda.

➜ but not because of the same reasons.

➜ homeboy was just not the best at showing those type of emotions, preferably to try and mask those in snarky, and obnoxiously mean remarks.

➜ bb boy needs to lay off his salt

➜ like he'll have a kidney stone one of these days ngl

➜ tsukishima was, surprisingly enough, the first one to confess between the two of you. reasons being that these overbearing feelings of his, that he was unaccustomed to was a bit too much for him and just decided to confess to you out of flustration.

➜ and in his thoughts, and i quote

“ just to get this over with ”

➜ he knew you wouldn't accept it so atleast he could it it off his chest and cry himself a river and get over it

➜ mans was too practical lmao

➜ but you didn't reject him, and in fact you returned the same overbearing feelings he carried that would create a whirl wind of emotions in the pits of your stomache, and he did not, in fact, cry himself a river

➜ because holysh!t you actually like him back ???

➜ homeboy never thought this through

➜ tsukishima never would have thought you'd accept his confession

➜ but nevertheless, he asked you out right after, still in deep shock and as if he was still floating in cloud nine.

➜ tsukishima was awkward when you guys started dating, no; it's probably you too.

➜ physical affection was OUT the window in the first start of your guys' relationship.

➜ and when you guys DO start attempting physical contact, he'd be so stiff lmaoo

➜ tsukki isn't showered in these types of affection okay?? you're probably his first s/o

➜ whenever you'd hug him with people around, he wouldn't buldge or would just entirely deny you of it

➜ s h i t hurts tsukki :(

➜ it wasn't like he doesn't like you ─ goodness no, bb boy was probably wrapped around your finger.

➜ it wasn't an everyday sight seeing tuskishima with an s/o

➜ he just couldn't for the life of him do pda justttt yet, especially with all the eyes watching you two interact

➜ whenever tanaka or noya comments that he's too cold to you, or if anyone says that you deserve better, he'd do that shit-eating-grin, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEANN

➜ THE ONE THAT MAKES THAT PUSSÉ WET 👅👀💅

➜ and say

“ atleast i have an s/o & not just go around asking kiyoko-san for her hand in marraige. ” to tanaka or noya

“ and you think you're better for her ? ” to anyone that dares say anything about y'all's relationship

➜ but would also have this guilt-tripping churning on his stomache because you probably did deserve better

➜ the day you guys had your first kiss was when a guy called him out, saying they were better for you than he could ever be.

➜ and out of his built up insecurities & flustration, y'all just had this tension between you two and next thing you knew, you guys were kissing

➜ which may or may not ended up as a makeup session🤪😳

➜ and he was just surprisingly?? good ?? at it??

➜ ugh sanaol

➜ after that incident, tsukishima and you talked your relationship through and his insecurities ( also another sign he's whipped for you, because he never does these type of shit. )

➜ bb boy was a bit more comfortable at physical affection with you

➜ pda? he'd probably kiss you in front of the person the person commenting unnecessary about your guys' relationship, or if anyone dares to flirt with you in front of him

➜ and he'd have you out of breath from it and would have that smirk on his lips

➜ fook let me just kiss you ahHh

➜ but other than that, he prefers to stay low on pda, though, holding hands is a must

➜ but not without a remark from our mcdonalds fry

“ your hands are too sweaty ”

➜ would 100% flick your forehead

➜ like if he ever thinks you're annoyingly cute, he'd just flick your forehead lmAOOO

➜ one time y'all were away from each other because he had training camp, and when you guys finallu saw each other again, you couldn't help but run up to him & kiss him mwahhh

➜ and he'd be like 😳🤢

“ disgusting, do it again. ”

➜ but would be the one to pull YOU into a kiss

➜ phew CHILEE🥵

➜ physical touches are already something

➜ but what about non-physical ones?

➜ nicknames

➜ N I C K N A M E S

➜ they are a MUST in your guys' relationship

➜ if you're short, homeboy would call you chibi-chan.

➜ if you have a huge forehead, bb biy would call you forehead-chan

➜ while you would call him megane-chan/kun

➜ tsukki is also a good one

➜ bitch too

➜ half would be so weird but are still endearing to the both of you

➜ doesn't let anyone else probably other than tadashi, akiteru & his mom to hold his glasses for him

➜ and you too

➜ he would let you touch it and wear it, though without a playful roll of the eyes and maybe a side remark, since he is tsukishima kei

➜ one time he was teasing you and acted too tired to put on his glasses and made you do it

➜ and while you guys were eye levelled as you guys sat in his bed, almost nose to nose👀😳 the second you put on his glasses on him perfectly, he'd pull your arm gently towards him as you landed safely onto his chest, his head ontop of yours and you guys just sat in silence;

➜ and with nothing but your two beating hearts created a whole new melody once they were molded together

➜ would call your grades trash✋ but would offer to study with you

➜ thus born, was your study sessions/dates

➜ would SHARE ! HIS ! EARPHONES ! WITH ! YOU AHHHHH

➜ PUTEKNAOL😤

➜ has bought headphones just for the sole purpose to listen to music with you

➜ AND NOT JUST THAT YALL

➜ 😭😭😭

➜ HE MAKES PLAYLISTS FOR YOU

➜ MARRY ME SIR

➜ UGH IM HIS CERTIFIED WH0RE

➜ AND IF YOU WOULD DO THE SAME, HE'D DROP ON HIS KNEES AND JUST MELT AND SAY “ i will marry this bitch one day ”

➜ y'all would probably listen to both playlist alternately while you guys just either vibe to it or fall asleep with each other

➜ i have other things to say but i have to stop myself from spoiler my new mini headcanons series coming soon

413 notes · View notes

eitelle · 3 years

Note

Hi!! Congrats on 60 followers btw! 💗

I am a female and I’d like to matched up with a guy from Haikyuu. I am ENFJ, (but sometimes enfp). I’m outgoing and generally nice to everyone, but I have a very sassy, goofy personality. Naturally flirty and very affectionate, and my love language is physical touch. I have my moments when I get shy and anxious, especially around someone I really have a crush on. Yet at the same time I’m the person always trying to hug and cuddle my friends even after roasting them. My favorite colors are blue, red, purple and pink. I love some teasing. I’m passionate about acting and singing. I love to listen to all kinds of music. I have long curly blackish hair and I’m 5’2. I’m a Gemini Sun, Cancer Rising and Gemini Moon. I am a caring and adaptable person, and like to make people happy I always finding a way to slip a stupid joke in🙄( joking is my coping mechanism) . My favorite food is tacos. African-American, and I like someone that I can relate to. I don’t have a specific type, but I do like someone with goals and passion. I like someone I can laugh with and also have real conversations with. I’m so into the romantic lovey-dovey stuff, yet sometimes I act like a little boy💀. I can be loud asf, even just when normally talking cause I usually have a lot of energy.

As far as style goes, it varies from 12 year old boy with some joggers and a t-shirt wayyyy too big for me , to like a 90s baddie with some hoops on, to girly with skirts, sweaters and some knee high socks. As far as accomplishments go, I’ve won state in theater and continue to pursue acting. It’s something I’m very passionate about. Some flaws of mine are overthinking and my anxiety. Like I’ll overthink an entire situation before I really know what happened and assume that someone like hates me. Or I’ll assume I’m talking to much and that’s it’s annoying so I just kinda.. shut down. My anxiety can get kinda bad, i get all shaky and I care a lot about what people think of me (although I try to deny it). So I’ll need someone who can bring me back to earth every now and then. But it’s getting better with time and I’m trying to stress myself out less. When I’m out I’ve got such a big personality and I’m making dumb jokes and dancing, but when I get home I’m just chilling and watching anime. (Although I will dance and make jokes if I feel like it). And I’m a night owl!

Sorry if this was too much!! I really appreciate what you are doing 💗.

OH MY GOD IM AN INFJ THAGS SO COOL!! MY ONLINE PERSONALITY IS LOWK ENFJ THO SO I THINK THATS SO SWAG SHSHSHS (if u recall me saying otherwise shhhhh thats when i trusted 16personalities) ALSO STATE IN ACTING??? UR SO COOL WTF?? ANYWAYS

ok i was actually just wanting to do a matchup w this character n it just so happens u seem to literally fit what id say is his ideal type so i have matched you with: semi eita

GOSH I LOVE HIM OK HCS: (also im so sorry for doing these so late shshs 😖)

forst of all hes def helping w ur lines

like hes such a good person to help prep u

hes also like lowk very lowkey shdhd and honest/blunt so if u ever get an anxiety attack i think hed tell u how it is like straight up n that ur overreacting but in the way that snaps u back to reality

n hes like ur anchor shdhd

i think thats so cute

and sometimes he gets stage fright so i feel like your presence would just help comfort him

OOH ALSO YALL WOULD PROB RELEASE SO GS TOGETHER

N HED LOVE SINGING W U 😫‼️

i feel like hed call u angel, his muse, or his bitch. no in between.

i also feel like he loves how hes so pale and his hair is gray and hes tall n ur lowk short n ur skin is darker and ur hair is like complete opposites and he loves that

like the opposites but fits so well together thing

yall def listen to ricky montgomery together idec.

and taylor swift.

ooh i know for a fact that mans had a hamilton phase but thats why hes so hot tbh

yall also make like photo/mood boards of yall or playlists lol i feel so lonely rn help-

if one of ur anxiety attacks comes in public u know this man is gonna pull the “im famous u want a photo?” to drag attention away from u shdh

oh u def call him suga by “accident” to make him mad HAHAHSJSH

prob the clubbing people but i could see him n u watching anime together and u accidentally hum the ops while harmonizing by accident sometimes shahsgdj

GOSH OK THAT WAS LONG SORRY OK ANYWAYS NOW ITS TIME FOR A ONE SHOT!! (also if u ever need to talk ab something my dms r always open!!)

IS THAT THE TOUNGE N LIKE TEETH THING BUT IN ANIME??/7;6&3);&;7: I JEVER NOTICED THIS WHAT THE FUCK

on a normal friday night, a (your age) person would normally be out with friends, or maybe even going clubbing. but not you, no you and your boyfriend were sitting on the couch, howl's moving castle on your tv and your head on his chest.

it was a chill day to say the least, you and him both having a full day off and spending it like this the two of you too exhausted from the weeks events already. you had random music playing in the background. by random i mean random it went from ed sheeran to lil uzivert all the way to BTS; needless to say it was kinda a mess. but that was how you liked it.

all of a sudden ‘The Schuyler Sisters’ from the original broadway cast of hamilton: the musical started blasting interrupting the beautiful silence w background noise.

you turn to look at your boyfriend, your chests now pressed against each other to look at him staring just past you at his phone, a light pink blush tinting his ears.

“a hamilton kid i see..” you tease playfully noticing how he flushed even deeper.

“o-oi shut up, my- my mom set it for me ok?” he tries to say, his excuses unheard as you burst into laughter tired of holding it in.

“we- well at least pick it up,” you say between laughs.

“fine. hello?” he says as he answers the call. “oh- but today, no i understand. of course. ok ill be right there.”

as he shifts you look at him all of a sudden concerned, you didn’t want your boyfriend overworking himself afterall.

“darling is everything ok?” you ask afraid of the answer. then you notice how hes not meeting your eyes and how hes tapping his knee with his pointer finger. his little tell he was trying to hold in laughs. “oh haha very funny semi now drop the act can we please just go back?” you try to reason.

“oh but getting u annoyed like this is so cute >w<“ he laughs seeing you grumble about how he was ‘so annoying’ as you turn to ignore him.

“oh shut up.”

“make me :p”

“maybe i will,” you say before stuffing a pillow in his mouth and leaning your head against it. “now enjoy the movie.” </3

HES SO PRETTY OML 🤩🤤

ohmygod now its time for my last texts for this event ahhh

OK I HOPE U ENJOYED SORRY THIS WAS SO LATE SHDGSH

#AHHHH AHHHH AHHHHHH #OH MY GOD #IM GONNA CRY WOW #THIS EVENT #HAS BEEN #WOW #YEAH #michelles 60 follower matchup event #SHDHJSHDJDHDJD

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 5 years

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Idle Hands Are the Devil’s Tools

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar X Reader

Summary: You are a bartender at LUX, growing to be one of Lucifer’s closest friends in the human realm, attraction swelling in the both of you for the other. On one closing night at the club, Lucifer decides to bet a little wager with you when Detective Decker needs your help for a case and you want to decline. Exotic dancing, lingerie, seducing a crime lord, jealousy, lust, and chaos, the devil’s specialties, soon follow.

A/N: okay so full disclosure I have not seen much, only like eight episodes into the first season but already I’m in love with a general idea of the so far storyline and characters so I hope you guys enjoy this little story because a lot of you requested it and I’m excited *maniacal, evil laughter* feedback is loved and appreciated as always! i wrote this filth in like one night so have fun with this and if yall want a continued part of just smut then fluff lemme knowwww anyway PLEASE ENJOY

Warnings: sexiness, dirty talk, alcohol, infuriating sexual tension, stripper reader, FLUFF, language, near death experience, JEALOUSY hehe, dom! Lucifer, FILTH I SWEAR, implied smut

You clean up the bar counter, wet rag covered in cleaning spray, eyes lifting and making direct contact with your boss, Lucifer. His head tilts to the side, curiously and expectantly, like he wants you to say something, as if telepathic conversation between you two should be second nature, always knowing what he’s thinking.

“You’re really not going to do it?” he asks, alluringly soft voice with that British lilt in it that so many find attractive, maybe that’s why he chose it. Sex appeal.

“Do what?” you ask, evading his gaze the second it turns serious, turning around and wiping down random bottles, aligning them on the shelves.

“You know what, darling,” he sighs, a huff a laughter. “The case Detective wants your help on.”

You stiffen at the mention of Decker’s request, when she came just a few hours before, “She doesn’t need my help... anyone can do it.”

“Well, she chose you, no one else in a one hundred mile radius has an impressive skill set in both martial arts and stripping...” his lips curl when saying the last word, you scold him, narrowing your eyes. “I also wouldn’t mind seeing the latter. I’ve only ever seen you in your uniform,” he scrunches his nose, excitable.

You look down at the sensible attire, a black tank top and dark washed jeans with holes where the knees are. You look back up at him and chew on your bottom lip, pondering that forever reoccurring question of if he’s just being his normal flirty self or if he truly sees you in another light. You only ever come up with the former as the answer. He’s all dark, black suits, raven, slicked back hair, and stormy eyes, all cut from jagged stone, onyx and obsidian. He’s untouchable.

“Stripping put me through college when my parents refused to,” you explain, point blank and to the point. “I haven’t done it since, I quit when I made enough for tuition. It paid the bills and kept the lights on, but the men there... I won’t ever forget the way their eyes made me feel...” you gulp audibly when you remember those disgusting glances, how objectifying they were.

Of course it wasn’t every patron there, some were respectful. Some even got you a good lay, and others sometimes paid an entire month’s rent, but those late night visitors, they were the ones that led you to quit.

“I don’t want to ever feel like that again,” you look at Lucifer and he knows you’re telling the truth, your glassy eyes and wavering stance.

“Y/n...” he says sincerely, reaching across the bar to thread his fingers through yours. You freeze.

“I can assure you at my club, I only let in the best people, they’re hand selected. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, they will be punished and out of the club as soon as you say the word. I wouldn’t be pushing this so much, dear, if it wasn’t so vital to the investigation and to get this crime lord and stop him from killing anyone else, you have to distract him long enough for the cops to get inside. We need you.” He needs you.

“Luci...” you whine slightly, breathing deeply when you catch his stare. “I-”

“Can you do this?” he asks, tongue dragging across the pillow of his bottom lip, twitching in the corners. “For me, beautiful?”

This is one of those moments that has you pondering the stance of your relationship. Because you can’t say no to those eyes. And he knows it.

“You’re terrible,” you sigh, giving up, squeezing his hand before letting go, slipping from his grasp. “But yes, fine, I’ll do it. Because you basically guilt tripped me into doing so.”

“You are only human,” he teases, wearing a cheeky smile when he swipes the liquor from your fingers and pours two glasses. “Don’t worry, love, you’re going to have a devil of a time...”

You take a long sip of your drink, pointing at him accusingly, “Stop it with the puns or I’m out.”

“I’ll also put a little wager on the endeavor, pet, and make it interesting,” he sits up straighter, the nickname he uses for you sending an ice cold chill down your spine. “If you make at least a grand tomorrow night, I’ll tell you what I desire.”

“I have always wondered...” you take another sip of the smooth drink, the burnt amber taste gliding down your throat with ease. “Can you really pin it down to just one thing?”

“For you I will,” he looks at you, genuine. “And if you don’t make that much, I get to ask you. I never have gotten the chance.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it until then?”

He smirks, “Nothing, I suppose. This is much more fun, though, wouldn’t you say, kitten?”

“Okay, then. Deal,” you extend your hand to him and his eyes are alight, scarlet fervor.

He grins wickedly, shaking your hand, “This’ll be such fun.”

~~~~

Maze looks you over, feline eyes slit with her bottom lip caught between her teeth in deep concentration. You two are in the back of the club, music and bass pounding in the dance room while she studies your attire, your new work uniform while aiding in the case. You’re covered head to toe in a gaping fishnet body suit, a black strapless bra laying over atop your breasts and a pair of black lace panties to match with a pair of ebony, Louboutin stiletto heels, a weapon in themselves. She places a com in your ear so you can covertly communicate with Lucifer and Decker.

You feel out of your element, but also incredibly empowered, now that it goes by your rules, what you say goes. Maze put your hair in curls, minimal makeup with a dark lip, and she’s smiling, licking her lips deliciously.

“If Lucifer hadn’t already called dibs on you, mortal, I’d have you right here myself...” she traces a finger down your torso, stopping at your panty line, crimson lips cut from ruby.

“Dibs?” you ask, confused but also intrigued. “When did he do that?”

“If you really don’t know...” she looks at you. “Then you’re an idiot.”

“Bitch,” you scoff.

She smiles, leading you to where you’ll be dancing for the night, “Sure, but at least I’m not an idiot.” That’s clueless to my boss’s affections.

You huff in annoyance before stopping at the individual pole where you will be performing for the night, the club already packed with crowds of dancing, grinding bodies, sweat and musk. Lucifer catches your eyes from across the room, he’s stunned for a moment, like he’s stuck in a moment of shock and he can’t move. You’re breathtaking.

He smiles, lifting a single eyebrow in question, calculating your next move. The crime lord Decker described to you sits on the couch adjacent to the poles and designated dancing areas, his greedy eyes already laying over you and you know you have him hooked.

You look back at Lucifer and hook your leg on the steel pole, spinning around, positioned upside down when you flash the devil a wink.

He’s taken aback by the gesture, eyes wide as saucers, chest rising and falling at the unknown twist in his gut. You slide back up, walking around the wooden square allotted for your dancing, letting the music seep into your bones, move your hips and sway your curvy body to the beat of the song, one you requested. You turn away from Lucifer and lock eyes with the crime lord, you wiggle your fingers in the smallest of waves, flirtatious when your lips move upward, all planned and perfected. The man is caught under your spell and caught completely off guard, perfect for a distraction.

Your hand graces the pole once again when you twirl around, hand running through your hair when you dance to the rhythm of the playlist, eyes closed and letting your body do the talking that your lips can’t. Already both men and women have been throwing wads of dollar bills, in the hundreds now.

Lucifer’s eyes fall over you more than once, but unlike everyone else’s, they hold adoration, admiration, he can’t look away.

“You’re doing this on purpose...” he growls into his ear com, nursing a hard scotch on ice, eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Whatever do you mean, Luci...” you swing around once more, landing in the splits when you face him, laying down fully, face in your hands. His jaw drops.

He’s never wanted someone this badly. It’s like your touching him without actually doing so, your eyes doing all the work for you.

“You look ravishing.”

You belly laugh, throwing your head back when you look at him, smug, “In the way that I look intriguing or that you want to ravish me yourself?”

He sips his drink, fire licking his irises, flickering in flames, “Both.”

“Guys, focus,” Decker scolds in the mic, interrupting the staring contest, having you continue back to dancing, looking back at the crime lord.

He waves you over, a stack of cash beside him that he pats, wanting a personal lap dance. Your skin crawls at the way his eyes trail over you, lingering in places he shouldn’t, but you know it’s for the case, so you can save people. You smile at him, forced, walking down the platform and over to him.

“He want’s a lap dance, Decker,” you whisper, the loud music enough to mask your talking. “What do I do?”

“That’s not apart of the plan, Detective,” Lucifer bites, voice dripping with venom, eyes aflame.

Decker mulls it over, “It’s... actually perfect. Do it, y/n, you’re not in any danger and-”

“She could get hurt, we didn’t plan for this,” Lucifer says, another foreign feeling in his chest where his heart should be, clutching the absence and his jaw clenches. “W-what if she’s uncomfortable?”

“She can do it, because if she does, we have more than enough time for the cops to swarm in and take this guy down, ten minutes tops.”

“I can do it, Luci,” you promise. “He’s only human, right?” you say, voice unsteady when you see the gun in his pocket, burly bodyguards on either side of him.

Lucifer’s chest clenches and he’s forced to watch you straddle the man’s lap, smiling openly at the murderer, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. This hurts more than the injuries, when the Detective shot him, this doesn’t even compare. It resonates through his whole being, he’s rooted to the ground and the fear in your eyes when you throw a look at him kills him further.

“The cops are close,” Decker tells you. “Just a little bit longer and we’ve got him.”

The man beneath you suddenly frowns, “What’s that voice? Do you have a com in? Are you a cop?” He shoots up, pushing you off, you barely catch yourself when you stand.

“Shit!” Decker curses, footsteps immediately following when she runs down the main staircase, gun aimed at the criminal’s head, a sure shot from there. “Alright, LAPD, hands up, asshole!”

The club goes into a frenzy, crowds running out the doors when they hear her yell, giving the perpetrators an easy exit. And in the heat of the moment, the crime boss grabs you, arm around your neck and restricting your airway with a gun pressed against your temple, the cool steel on your skull. Your eyes sting with tears, a damned lump forming in your throat you can’t bear swallow, and Lucifer sees you across the club.

His eyes light up, and he realizes he was wrong earlier, this pain was worse, so much worse. It takes him over and makes him vulnerable beyond repair when he runs over to you but the criminal is two steps ahead, moving with you to the exit, pressing the gun into you further.

“One more step and I’ll shoot!” he tightens his grip around your neck and an empty tear slips past, but you dare not make a noise. “Don’t test me!” He clicks off the safety and you flinch.

You mouth a soft, It’s okay, to Lucifer, watching his face fall, true sorrow in his features.

“You picked the wrong woman to hold at gunpoint,” his chest heaves, but he’s calm and collected, eerie and still like a lake at midnight, the only reflection of light being the moon. “Let her go.”

“Step back or I’ll kill her-”

Lucifer flashes his real face, scarlet and devilish, monstrous and the man drops his gun in a fit of fear and confusion, eyes wide. You knock your head back and headbutt his nose, enough so to knock him out, dropping to the ground unconscious.

You breathe heavy and the tears finally fall. A single, broken sob escapes, you cross over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, crying into his chest, staining his signature purple button down shirt. His arms, once stiff at his sides, encircle around your waist and tug you to him, no space between you both except the fabric of his clothes and lace of your ensemble. And there’s no words needed. His hands rest on the small of your back, and for once they have no intention of ever wandering.

~~~~

You step into the shower, closing the blue tinted, glass door behind you. The hot water slides down your skin, close to scalding, cleaning off the day you’ve had, especially that man’s hands, gripping your waist. Hands on your hips. You close your eyes and tilt your head up, water rushing down your face, waves lapping at skin, kissing your cheeks with warmth.

You step out of the shower after washing your hair, wrapping a towel around yourself when you walk out of the bathroom, water droplets running down your hair and face, coating the tips of your lashes and your pink lips. Lucifer, leaning over the bar and nursing a drink, turns when he hears your wet footsteps advance into the main, sitting room, dark eyes trailing over your figure.

He’s been acting off ever since the incident at LUX, driving you over to his apartment, letting you use his shower, laying out a fresh outfit for you, and offering you a guest bed to sleep in for the night. He thinks it’s his fault, all this, being held at gunpoint and almost being shot, this entire mess in the first place. Guilt is aching in his chest and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

And he’s barely talking.

“Lucifer?” you ask, meek and quiet, afraid you’ve already overstepped too many boundaries just being here. You know it’s a bad idea.

“Yes, darling?” he answers just as softly, still not quite looking at you, just staring straight ahead at his cabinet of drinks, ice clinking in his crystal glass of scotch.

“I’m sorry.”

He turns his head in your direction, close to snapping, “Why are you apologizing?”

“Because I got sloppy and it almost cost us the investigation... he overheard my com-”

“You’re apologizing... because Detective spoke too loudly and he heard? You’re apologizing for almost getting killed?” he turns fully to face you, setting his scotch calmly on the bar counter.

“Don’t blame her.”

“I don’t. I blame myself for roping you in and getting you involved...” he groans, frustrated, walking slowly towards you.

You frown deeply, confused at his sudden change of heart, regret in his features, the wrinkles in his brow when he furrows it, “Even so we still got him in custody, there’s no harm done, Luci-”

“There could have been!” he yells, eyes rimmed with scarlet. “You could have died, y/n! I could have lost you and it would have been my fault...” his voice wavers, and you gulp, realizing what’s going on.

He was scared.

“Lucifer...” you whispering, cooing softly, a melodic lullaby put into his name.

You step on the tips of your toes to cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb over the stubble on his cheek. He’s trapped.

He’s never experienced tenderness like this before, such love and care in one’s touch, all for him. He doesn’t deserve it, but he’s softening, melting into your palm and he’s a puddle at your feet, eyes locked with yours and he’s thrown away the key. He presses his lips to the inside of your palm, sending electricity through your veins, sparks on your fingertips that shock his skin.

“Stop.”

He pinches his brow, confused, “What?”

“Stop,” you tell him, lips kicking up in a small smile. “Stop blaming yourself, I was sloppy, I admit it, Decker was loud... but I agreed to it, that’s on me. I knew the consequences and I knew what would happen if things went sideways, but he’s behind bars, and I’m not dead. I’d call this a win.”

His jaw tightens, “He put his hands on you.”

“He did...” you agree. “But I’m a big girl,” you laugh, both hands on his face now and he lets you, leaning into your touch like a moth to a light, succumbing to its own undoing. “I handled it.” And something comes over him.

“I should handle him...” he pushes you against the wall, you inhale sharply when you hit the cool material, gripping the front of your towel.

His eyes fall over your face, “For touching what’s mine.”

You open your mouth to speak, say something, anything, but you don’t object, you can’t. It happens so fast, both your wrists in one of his hands pinned above your head, pressing you further into the wall.

And he kisses you.

Your eyes flutter close and he groans into your mouth, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, tongue soothing you when it licks your own. Like coal igniting fire, aiding its own demise. His other hand runs down your neck, ripping off the towel that covers you until you’re bare before him, dripping in more ways than one. He finally lets go of your wrists and you wrap your arms around his neck, his arms looping around your waist and it’s clashing teeth, tongue, and lips, a frenzy of hands and it’s not enough. Not enough. He drinks you in with a hunger that can never be sated, your fingers carding through his ebony hair and tugging, harsh and vindictive. He growls, the devil but still a man, and you make him painfully so.

He picks you up, hands under your thighs when your legs wrap around his torso, soaking his clothes but he doesn’t give a shit, never breaking your kiss when he carries you over to the bed, tossing you on the mattress. He looks you over, hungry and vicious, lips exploring the maps of skin before him, biting and licking all the curves, dips, and sweet spots, finding what makes you tick.

Kissing down your stomach, eyes still holding onto yours, “Tell me, my love... what do you desire?”

“Y-you,” you say, voice shaky and unsteady, gulping down the lump in your throat that makes it hard to breathe.

He smirks, malicious, crawling back up your body and he sucks on your neck, marking your skin with love bites, littered with remnants of him.

“You won the bet, didn’t you, darling?” he kisses the curve of your jaw, licking the lines of your throat, and all oxygen leaves you. “I suppose I have to tell you what I desire, then, don’t I?”

“A deal is a deal,” you smile, equally as excited as you are scared for the answer.

“You,” he scatters his lips across your chest, kissing your breasts. “To ravish you like the goddess you are... to love you wholeheartedly and truly.”

He wraps his lips around your right nipple, swirling his tongue expertly, biting and sucking. His fingers pinch the other, rolling it between his index and thumb, so damn good it’s scary.

You never thought you’d hear him say the L word, and to you, a mortal, no less. You never thought you’d love him too.

“Luci... you’re still wearing clothes,” your fingers fumble for his shirt, tugging it so hard that the buttons pop off, falling off of him. “That’s hardly fair.”

He grins wolfishly when he resurfaces, “Eager, aren’t we, kitten? If you wanted it rough, all you had to do was ask...”

#lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer fox #as requested #requested #fanfiction #lucifer fanfiction #lucifer x reader #smut #lucifer morningstar smut #reader #fic #reader fic

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astronomyparkers · 6 years

Text

Silence {V}

Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse

Pairing: Vigilante!Tom Holland x reader

Word count: 5.2k

A/N: can I just say that I seriously love all of your theories about this story? each one is so wild and i love reading them so keep sending them in! also, I’m still working on the silence playlist, so send in song recs as well! i hope yall are enjoying this story as much as I’m enjoying writing it <3 also please note I DO NOT HAVE A TAGS LIST!!!!! THE REASON WHY IS IN MY FAQ!!!! ANY/ALL MESSAGES REGARDING THIS WILL BE DELETED!!!!

{masterlist}

For a Saturday morning, the coffee shop was bustling with business as patrons moved their way through the line, eager for their daily dose of caffeine. You fiddled with your phone in your hands as you waited to order. It was a habit of yours, fiddling with anything you could get your hands on when you were anxious. And you knew you had a reason to be so nervous.

After picking up coffee, you were going to drive to Tom’s manor, which was the cause of your fidgeting hands. You hadn’t seen Tom since he had stopped by your office a few days ago. During that visit, he had promised to come to your house that night to discuss his family’s dirty history, but he never showed up.

You couldn’t deny that you were hurt. You were beginning to think that Tom trusted you, and valued having you on his side. And yet, it seemed that that wasn’t the case at all.

You shook your head as you approached the front of the line. You didn’t want to dwell on the negative thoughts that had been floating through your brain for the last few days. Instead, you placed your order, grabbed your drinks once they were finished, and headed to your car to begin the drive.

When you arrived at the manor, you held the drink carrier tightly in your hand before opening the front door. For someone so obsessed with stopping crime, you would have thought Tom would have made sure his door was locked more often.

You took a deep breath as you walked up the stairs, steeling yourself for the possible awkward encounter you were about to have. You weren’t sure what you would say to Tom when you saw him. Would you ask why he never showed up? What if he didn’t have a good reason? What if he just didn’t want to see you?

That last thought made your heart sink. Could that be it? Could it be that he regretted opening up to you so much?

When you reached the door to Jacob’s computer room, you paused. Whatever the answer may be, you were about to find out.

Before you could change your mind again, you pushed the door open. Jacob was sitting in his usual chair, tapping away at his keyboard as he stared at the screen in front of him. Harrison was sitting on the corner of the desk, a highlighter in his mouth and glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he read over notes you had given him on a donor family.

You cleared your throat and the two of them looked up at you, smiling as they did so.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jacob grinned widely as Harrison got up from his perch on the desk. “It’s so good to see you again!”

“It’s only been a few days, Jacob.” You smiled lightly as you walked further into the room, meeting Harrison halfway to pass him his drink.

“Yeah, but you’re fun to be around.” Jacob shrugged as you handed him his drink. “Harrison’s always busy with training, and Tom is so serious—”

“I’m hurt, Jacob.” Harrison pouted before sipping his drink. “And thanks, Y/N. You didn’t need to bring us anything.”

You shrugged as you set the carrier down on the desk before pulling out your drink. “It’s fine. Where’s Tom? I have one for him…”

“I’m right here.”

You turned around to see Tom standing in the doorway, dressed in his vigilante outfit. His leather boots were splattered with mud, and there were a few new rips in his black jeans. He pulled off his leather jacket and tossed it on the desk before tugging down his hood, running a hand through his hair and ruffling it up more. And, as always, he had his mask on.

“Hey.” You looked down quickly. “Did you just get in?”

Tom nodded. His eyes were dark, with purple splotches underneath them. “I was out all night, trailing this guy who—” He stopped talking abruptly, glancing at you. “Hey, is there caffeine in that?”

You nodded as you passed him his cup. “Yeah, uh, I have one for you. Who were you trailing?”

Tom shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it.”

Tom tugged off his gloves, tossing them on the desk beside him. It was rare you saw him without them, except when he came to visit you at work. You stared at his hands, calloused and rough. And missing his usual T ring, although you suspected it was something he didn’t want to wear while running around the streets of New York.

Harrison glanced between the two of you, sizing up your tense exchange before asking Tom a question. Then they began discussing some topic you couldn’t pay attention to. Instead, you looked down at your hands, tuned out their conversation, and got lost in thought.

It seemed that Tom wasn’t going to even mention standing you up the other night, much less give you a reason for why he did it. You had thought that you had finally connected, but here he was. He had the mask back on, like he was trying to hide from you all over again. It frustrated you to no end.

But if Tom was going to pretend that nothing happened, then so would you. He didn’t corner the market of brushing things off. You could be just as dismissive as he was.

“Y/N?” Jacob said, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hm?” You looked up quickly. “What was that?”

“I asked if you wanted a ride back into the city? I’m going to visit my Mom today, thought you might want to carpool.”

“Oh, no thanks, Jacob.” You smiled at him. “I drove my car in today. Are we already finished?”

“We’re kind of hitting a dead end.” Harrison sighed, pushing his glasses up. “We have all these families linked together, but no clear plan of how to stop it yet. Nor do we have enough information to go to the police. Not without sounding crazy, anyways.”

“The police don’t always get things right.” Tom muttered. “If we’re all done, I’m going to shower. Maybe catch a nap.”

Tom ran a hand through his hair and followed Jacob out of the room, pausing in the doorway.

“Y/N?” He spoke, looking back at you with guarded eyes.

“Yes?”

Tom held up the coffee cup. “Thanks for the drink.”

And then he disappeared out the door.

“I’m sorry.” Harrison shook his head. “I should have called this morning and told you that you didn’t need to make the trip. What a waste of gas.”

“It’s okay.” You shrugged. “I don’t mind the drive. I don’t get to do much of it in the city.”

“You can hang around today, if you want.” Harrison said, shuffling some papers on the desk. “I wasn’t going to be getting up to much, anyways. My family is out of town this weekend, so I can’t go visit them.”

“I don’t want to bother you—”

“It’s no bother, really!” Harrison insisted. “I was just going to train—”

“Really?” You perked up a bit. “Could I watch?”

Harrison raised an eyebrow. “Oh. Um…I don’t—”

“Not—not like that.” You felt heat rise to your cheeks. “I mean…I’ve always wanted to fight better. And seeing as how someone tried to kill me a few weeks ago…”

“Well, there’s no time like the present to learn, I always say.” Harrison smiled. “I’ll just go change into some workout clothes and then I’ll meet you in the gym.”

You nodded, and thanked your past self for wearing leggings and a tank top that day.

You made your way to the gym, with Harrison arriving in a tank top and athletic shorts a few minutes later. He smiled as he walked in, wandering over to the wall of cabinets and drawers.

“I, uh, haven’t really trained anyone new to fighting in a while…” Harrison opened a drawer and began sorting through it. “But I figured the basics would be good for you to know. Even if no one tried to kill you again—”

You walked up behind him. “Try not to sound too disappointed.”

He cracked a smile. “Even then, it’s always smart for a girl in New York to know how to defend herself.”

Harrison pulled out a long white bandage and took your hand in his, wrapping the bandage around your hand.

“Have you ever fought anyone before?” Harrison asked curiously, securing the bandage around your right hand.

“Um…not really? The art world isn’t much for physical fighting.” You shrugged. “When did you learn?”

“I…My dad taught me, actually.” Harrison mimicked your shrug as he moved to your other hand. “He was a boxer. We…well, I always preferred books and computers to boxing gloves. Which he didn’t really like.”

“Then how did you get so good? Or, good enough to train the Silence, at least.” You asked.

“I was always good. I had my dad’s affinity for it. And that’s what made him mad.” Harrison spread your fingers gently as he wrapped the bandage between them. “I was really good at it, and it kept me from getting bullied, but I never wanted to actually do anything with it.”

“It made him mad?”

“Oh yeah.” Harrison chuckled to himself. “He used to take me to training when I was a kid, maybe around eight. I was barely tall enough to see into the ring, but he would lift me up and put me in it and have me follow along with him. He always dreamed I was going to follow in his footsteps.”

“What happened when you didn’t?” You asked, almost afraid for the answer.

“He beat the shit out of me.” Harrison shook his head. “I remember…I was fourteen, maybe early fifteen, and I told him that I wanted to quit boxing. And he asked why, and I said that I wanted to focus on school, get into a good university. Make something of myself, you know?”

You nodded as Harrison finished wrapping your hand. “I know.”

“Right, well, he didn’t know.” Harrison began wrapping his own hands, his movements quick and skilled. “He pushed me in the ring, said that in this world, I had to fight for what I wanted. And if I wanted to go to university, then I had to beat him.”

“And…and you—”

“Oh, he destroyed me.” Harrison finished one hand, tying it quickly before moving to the next one. “I mean, I was some gangly fifteen year old kid, and he was a thirty-seven year old boxer who’d been training for years. And he wasn’t quite sober, although he never really was anymore.”

“Jesus, Harrison.” You said quietly. “I don’t—I’m not really sure what to say…”

“You don’t need to say anything.” Harrison shook his head. “It’s fine. He left us a few months after that, but honestly…we were better off. And a few months after that, I met Tom. Everything worked out in the end.”

“Still…you didn’t deserve—”

“No, I didn’t.” Harrison looked down as he finished wrapping his hand. “But who does? Everyone has tough shit to go through. Jesus, look at Tom. With what happened to him, I’m surprised he’s not a blackout drunk. Or that he hasn’t put a bullet in his head.”

You flinched, and Harrison noticed.

“I—sorry.” He said quickly, flashing you a sympathetic smile. “I shouldn’t have—we’ll just get started, then.”

Harrison began showing you the proper way to stand, how to hold your body, and where to keep your hands. Then he showed you a few self defense moves, and how to get out of an attacker’s grip from different positions. He was a very patient teacher, guiding your every move and showing you again and again until you had it down.

“Good, you’re doing well, Y/N!” Harrison smiled, watching as you punched his hands. “Keep it up, five more!”

You hit his hands five more times before slumping over, pressing your hands to your knees and catching your breath. “Jesus—Christ.”

“Good job, curator.” Harrison said, tossing you a water bottle from the small fridge in the corner. “You’re pretty tough.”

“Thank—you.” You gasped, chugging half the water bottle in one go. “You’re a—good—teacher.”

Harrison laughed and put a hand on your back, opening his mouth to say something. But before he could speak, someone else did.

“Yeah, he is.”

You looked up and saw Tom standing in the gym doorway. He was freshly showered, with wet hair falling in damp curls around his forehead. He was dressed as casually as you’d ever seen him, in a pair of jeans and an old Metallica t-shirt. And, of course, the mask on his face. The mask that made it so damn hard to read his emotions. His eyes were as unreadable as always, but the tone of his voice was not particularly happy.

“Hey, Tom.” Harrison nodded at him, sipping some water from his own bottle. “Feeling better?”

“Decent.” Tom shrugged. “What are you two up to?”

“I’ve been teaching Y/N how to fight a bit.” Harrison answered. “Just in case she needs to.”

“Yeah.” Tom crossed his arms. “I’m usually there, though, right? I’m always patrolling around the museum and her apartment.”

“I said just in case, man.” Harrison smiled good naturedly. “You know, to be prepared for the worst case scenario.”

You stared at Tom as you tried to catch your breath, confused by his short answers and sudden hostility. If anyone had the right to be short and hostile, it was you.

“Right.” Harrison glanced between you and Tom, a million thoughts apparent in his eyes. “Well, I’m going to, uh…shower. And then…call my mom.”

“I thought you said your family was out of town?” You asked, frowning.

“They have phones in Chicago.” Harrison smiled quickly before exiting the room, calling a quick, “See you!” over his shoulder.

Tom and you looked at each other before quickly looking away. You fiddled with your taped hands nervously, unsure of what to say.

“So.” Tom cleared his throat as he walked to the storage cabinets. “Harrison was teaching you how to fight?”

“Yeah.” You nodded and drank more water. “He, um…he told me about his childhood. With his dad.”

“Fuck.” Tom cursed and began wrapping his hands up. “That’s heavy.”

“I just…Harrison is so sweet. I don’t understand how someone can grow up like that and turn out so…good.”

Tom grunted quietly as he pulled the tape tight. “Yeah. He’s great, isn’t he?”

“His dad…God. It’s just so shitty.”

“Yeah. Dads are shitty.” Tom shrugged as he finished wrapping his first hand. “My dad turned out to be a money laundering criminal, so…”

“Shitty.” You echoed, watching as Tom began to wrap his other hand.

“So…” Tom cleared his throat. “Want to show me what Harrison taught you?”

“Just some defense stuff. And a few punches.”

“You know…” Tom sniffed loudly and looked down, finishing up the wrap on his hand. “I…I’m always there. Watching out for you. No one…no one would even have a chance to hurt you.”

“But what if you’re not there?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Tom waked over to the punching bag hanging a few feet away. “But I am there.”

You followed him over, your hands on your hips. “But what if you’re not?”

“But I am.” Tom hit the punching bag hard.

“What is the big deal?” You questioned. “I’m not a—a damsel in distress, Tom! I don’t want you to constantly be around, waiting to protect me from something! I want to be able to protect myself!”

“Oh, okay.” Tom hit the bag with a grunt. “So should I stop looking out for you, then? Just let some hitman get near you?”

You laughed incredulously, looking around the room. “Is this a joke? Why are you acting like this?”

“It just pisses me off.” Tom kept hitting the bag. “That someone can try to protect someone, and it’s not enough.”

“It’s not enough?” You echoed, raising your eyebrows in shock. “I’m sorry, did I not thank you for saving my life? Because I’m pretty sure I did!”

“Look, I’m just saying.” Tom raised his hands in the air. “If you want Harrison to train you, then I can go.”

“Oh my god.” You blinked in shock. “Is this about Harrison?”

Tom rolled his eyes. “Jesus, no—”

“It is about Harrison, isn’t it? Are you mad we were hanging out?”

“What if I am?” Tom asked, turning back to the punching bag. “What if I am mad?”

“Then that would be ridiculous.” You shook your head. “You have no right to be mad! You—Jesus, Tom, I can be friends with him, and—”

“I know!” Tom yelled, hitting the punching bag again. “I know you can be friends with him! I know that!”

“Then why are you yelling like this?” You asked. “You—you never take off that fucking mask, you don’t give me a straight answer to anything, and when I try to get you to open up, you refuse to!”

Tom grunted loudly as he hit the punching bag. “That’s not fair.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I don’t feel like being fair right now!” You yelled. “I’m sorry that I decided to hang out with someone who’s not constantly uncomfortable in my presence!”

“Hey.” Tom hit the bag one last time and then turned to glare at you. “I have a fucking right to be uncomfortable. You have no idea what I’ve gone through.”

“You’re right. I don’t. You don’t tell me anything.” You started to unravel the wrap from your hands, tossing it on the ground once it was off. “But you can’t blame me for that.”

“Y/N.”

“No, you know what?” You pulled off the last piece of wrap, throwing it at Tom’s chest. “I’m done. I’m fucking done. I��m done trying to help you, I’m done getting involved in this, and I’m done being terrified of — of getting murdered just by doing my job. I’m done.”

“Y/N.” Tom repeated.

You shook your head, and ran out of the room.

You didn’t see Tom for four days.

Harrison and Jacob were calling you constantly, emailing you every hour, and sending text after text. You guessed that Tom hadn’t told them anything about the fight you two had had, because they kept asking what had happened, and why you wouldn’t contact them.

You felt horrible ignoring their calls, but you knew you couldn’t handle seeing either of them at the moment. Every message you listened to was like a shot to the heart, and you weren’t quite sure why.

Maybe because they were the only ones leaving messages. Tom had called you, yes, but he never left a message. He never sent you a text, or an email. Just calls that you watched go to voicemail, but no voicemail was ever left.

The day before, though, you had received a bouquet of lilies. They were sitting on your office desk when you arrived, and you called Felicity in with a frown.

“Felicity,” You had asked, slipping off your jacket and hanging it on your coat rack. “Where did these come from?”

“They were delivered this morning.” She answered. “I don’t know who sent them, but I’m pretty sure there’s a card in them.”

You had walked over to examine them, and sure enough, a card was tucked amongst the blooms. You had pulled it out, feeling your insides freeze a bit when you read it.

“I miss you. –t.h”

The card was still tucked in your coat pocket, where you had stuffed it quickly after reading it. You took it out now, reading it again as you had over the last day. Tossing your coat on the back of your couch, you slipped off your work heels and fiddled with the corner of the card.

He missed you? Then why didn’t he leave any messages? Why didn’t he try to contact you more? Why didn’t he just come see you?

You got up from the couch and poured yourself a generous glass of wine, and then leaned against the counter and sighed. All you wanted was a straight answer. All you wanted was for things not to be complicated.

You finished your glass of wine quickly, and wasted no time before pouring another. Once you finished that glass, you went to pour another, but a knock on the door interrupted you.

You walked over to the front door, staring through the peephole. A blonde woman in a pantsuit and heels was outside, a smile plastered on her face.

You opened the door. “Hi?”

“Hello, Ma’am.” She said with a smile. “I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about the building. I’m looking to rent an apartment on the floor below, but the last apartment complex I rented from had so many problems. Would I be able to get your opinion on some things?”

“Oh…I don’t know—”

“I promise, it’ll only be a few minutes.” She said brightly.

“Um, okay.” You nodded, opening the door more and allowing her to come inside. “Sure…?”

“Mona.” She said. “And you are?”

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.” You replied, watching as she looked around the living room with wide eyes.

“How long have you lived here, Y/N?” She asked curiously.

“God, um, around two years, I guess?” You shrugged, turning around to head to the kitchen. “Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? I have some wine if—”

Before you could finish your sentence, an arm wrapped around you from behind, encircling your neck and beginning to choke you. You gasped for air, struggling to throw the woman off of you.

You tried your best to remember Harrison’s training. You backed up, slamming Mona against the wall. Her head hit the mirror that adorned the wall, and you could hear the sound of the glass breaking. Her grip slackened a bit, and you looked down and stomped on her foot as hard as you could.

But she was in heels, and you were barefooted; you did more damage to yourself than her. Mona’s grip began to tighten again, and she pushed back from the wall. You used your foot again, but this time, you went for her knee, kicking with all your strength. You heard something crack, and she cried out, releasing you from her grip.

You gasped for air, running towards your bedroom. You still had the gun from the first hitman (you found it remarkable that you had to clarify that there were multiple hitmen after you) had tried to kill you with, tucked under your pillow; you thought that if you could reach it…you weren’t sure. You weren’t a killer. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and—

Before you could reach your bedroom, there was a muted bang from behind you.

Whipping back around, you saw Mona lying on the ground, her eyes wide open, and her blonde hair quickly staining red from the blood pouring out of the gun wound in the back of her head. Or, at least, the back of what used to be her head.

Standing behind her was the Silence, dressed in all black, mask on. Gun with a silencer still pointed at the corpse on the ground.

Tom stared at the body, walking towards it and staring for a moment before tossing his gun on your couch. Then he looked up at you.

You weren’t sure what to say, or do. You just stared back at him, a million words bubbling to your lips all at once, but all of them unable to pour out.

“Y/N.” Tom said quietly, his voice barely audible through his mask. “Are…are you alright?”

You nodded slowly, swallowing hard to clear the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I…yeah.”

Tom mimicked your nod. “Good. I-I’m glad.”

“There’s…” You swallowed again, trying to keep your throat clear. “Tom, there’s a dead body bleeding onto my throw rug.”

“I know.” Tom looked down at the body before walking over to you, making sure to give the body of your would-be killer a wide berth. “I know. It’s okay.”

“I don’t—what do we—” You stared at her—its—eyes. “I…I have to call my landlord…”

“No you don’t.” Tom shook his head and rested his hands on your shoulders. “Y/N, look at me. Eyes on me.”

You did as Tom said, tearing your gaze away from the body.

“Did anyone see you come home?” Tom asked.

You shook your head. “No, I…I don’t think so.”

“Good. Go downstairs, get in your car, and head to the manor. I’ll call the police. It’ll just look like this lady was trying to rob you, I stopped her, and that’s that.”

“But—”

”Go.” Tom pushed you towards the door. “Your neighbours might have heard something. We don’t have much time.”

You did as he said, grabbing your bag off the counter and hurrying to your car.

The entire drive to the manor, your mind was a blur. You kept seeing the body over and over, everywhere you looked. When you reached the manor, you parked your car, but couldn’t make yourself get out. You just sat in the driver’s seat, staring out the windshield.

A knock on the window made you jump, and you looked to your left to see Tom knocking on your window.

“Open the door, Y/N.” He said quietly.

You did as he said and he motioned for you to move to the passenger seat, which you did also. Tom sat down in the driver’s seat, staring at you as you stared straight ahead.

“I don’t…” Tom sighed, pulling his hood own and running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Someone just tried to kill me. Again. And you killed them. Again.” You said in a flat voice. “There is nothing you can say, Tom. There’s not.”

Tom nodded, looking down at his hands. “There is, actually. I…I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, and he sighed before continuing.

“I didn’t…I was late tonight. If you hadn’t fought back, if you hadn’t done what Harrison had taught you…” He inhaled raggedly. “I should have taught you all that. I was stupid, and arrogant, and I thought I was enough for…enough for you. But I wasn’t. I’m not. I’m so sorry.”

“Tom…” You said softly. There wasn’t anything else you could say.

“I do trust you. I know I don’t act like I do, but I do. I—being around you is—you’re so wonderful. And you—you don’t even know it. I’m not—you don’t make me uncomfortable. My…feelings for you…they’re what makes me uncomfortable.” Tom touched his mask lightly. “And I-I’m going to prove it.”

“Tom—”

“Please.” He said softly, looking into your eyes. “Don’t say anything right now. Just let me…”

Tom unhooked the side of his mask, pulling it off and dropping it slowly to his lap. And then, for the first time, the Silence turned to look at you without his mask.

He looked so different, but still the same. The natural light coming through your cars windows revealed so much more than the artificial fluorescent light at the museum. There was a small scar at the top right corner of his lip that you hadn’t noticed before. Then again, you hadn’t ever stared at him so closely before. His lips were slightly more chapped than usual, but more pink than you had ever seen them. And he looked…so hardened. But so young.

“This is…this is me.” He looked down at the mask, almost like he was speaking to it. “My name is Thomas Stanley Holland. I had a twin, named William. I have three other brothers. I…I run around, trying to fix my own past by fixing the present.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve killed people. Not good people. Not because I wanted to, really. But sometimes…I did. Want to. And I…I’m selfish. Because even though—even though you just saw something so incredibly horrific and you’re clearly in shock, all I want to do right now is kiss you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and Tom turned his head up to look at you. His eyes were so brown, and so warm, and so afraid.

Wordlessly, you took the mask from his grip, tossing it onto the floor of the car. Then you cupped his cheek.

“I think…sometimes, you deserve to be selfish a bit.” You said quietly. You could feel the heat of his skin under your hand, could almost picture his heart pumping the blood to his cheek. “Take off your gloves, Tom.”

He did what you asked, pulling off the leather fingerless gloves and letting them fall into his lap. He then looked at you with wide eyes. It was the most unsure you had ever seen him in your life.

Wordlessly, you took his hand and brought it to your cheek, pressing it against your skin. His breath hitched, and you leaned into his touch.

Tom’s eyes fluttered close for a moment, his breathing short and shuddering. You wondered if he had ever allowed himself to be this intimate with anyone. To touch a person’s cheek just to feel their warmth, and not expect anything in return.

You watched Tom’s throat move as he swallowed, heard the sound of it in the enclosed space of the car.

“There’s…there’s this painting at the MoMA.” Tom’s breathing was shallow. “By Magritte. The Lovers II. And it—it’s two people—”

“—wearing covers over their faces and kissing. I know.” You finished for him. It was the painting that you had been talking to his brother about at the investor’s ball, just before you had met him—not the Silence, but Tom—for the first time. “I love it.”

“It…it’s my favourite.” Tom admitted. “It always has been, since I was young. But now I—I go and I stare at it. And I wonder why Magritte chose to paint it. What he wanted to convey with it. If he knew—”

You interrupted Tom’s words with a kiss, your lips pressing against his in haste. Tom quickly responded, the hand that wasn’t cupping your cheek moving to the back of your neck and tangling in your hair. When Tom pulled back after a moment, you tried to think of words to say, to explain your interruption.

“Um…” You cleared your throat. “If he knew…what?”

Tom gave a small smile. “If he knew that, one day, the son of a disgraced businessman would be standing in front of it, before putting on a mask of his own.”

The corner of your mouth tilted up. “I’m no expert, but—well, actually, I am an expert. And I don’t think Magritte had any idea that would happen.”

Tom chuckled, but the sound was tinged with darkness. “Yeah. Figures. I didn’t know it would happen, either.”

And then he kissed you again. And you forgot about the darkness all at once.

{part VI}

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