#words I might not have thought out as well as I should have

[radiance1]

Just remembered about the Vortex's lil guy au and decided to write a lil about it.

***

When the Justice League arrived to stop a newly risen villain's scheme, which involved taking holding an entire city hostage with the use of a machine that could control the weather, which also involved expanded after successfully taking over the city.

When they achieved victory, they did not expect a child to be powering the machine.

Shazam, surprisingly, was the first one to react. "Danny!?" He said as he flew over to the boy, gently picking him from the confines of the machine (after they it had been deactivated) and into his arms. "Danny...?" He said a moment later, unsure of himself as his voice wavered a bit.

He shook the boy a bit, not too hard though, so as not to do any accidental harm. Blearily, the boy blinked opened his eyes, staring up at Shazam's worried face. "Shazam?" He murmured, voice rough and scratchy, as if it wasn't used often.

Either this boy-Danny-didn't speak much beforehand, or he was trapped in that machine so long that his voice became like this from a long period of disuse.

Shazam seemed to have thought so as well, and by his expression, it seemed to be more of the later as he floated down beside the rest of the League.

Danny blinked slowly before looking around the area, eyes glancing over every member present, then his surroundings and then finally back to Shazam and, with a curious tilt of his head he simply asked. "Did I get possessed again?"

A wave of concern washed over the group at the way the boy so casually asked such a question. As if it happened often enough that he grew used to it and, if the 'again' was any indication, it might just be the case.

"No." Shazam shook his head, readjusting his hold on the boy as he started to try and wiggle himself out of his arms. "Are you okay?"

"Yep." Said Danny, not even taking a moment to consider the question. As if he didn't just come out of a machine that feed upon his powers for who knew how long. Shazam's eyes narrowed in a glare that could almost give the Bat's a run for his money.

"Danny." The Champion of Magic chided, and the boy's eyes glazed over for a moment as Shazam simply readjusted his hold again. A moment later the boy blinked, a small purse to his lips and the vaguest amounts of concern slipping onto his face. "Oh," The boy said, no longer trying to wiggle himself from Shazam's hold. "My magic is acting weird, that's not good."

"Well yea since you, you know, had your powers drained and all?" Green Lantern said, the end of his question dipping into a question as the boy turned his head in his direction with too empty eyes that, for some reason, unsettled him.

"Who're you?" He asked with passing interest.

Whatever unsettlement Green Latern felt, it was immediately replaced with the vaguest amount of offence as the boy's words somehow wounded his ego more than such a simple question should have once it registered.

Who then immediately proceeded to ignore him.

The boy then blinked again, turning to Batman and giving the man a small wave. "Hello again, Batman." The Dark Knight simply grunted in his direction and nodded. Then pointed to each and every member present and slowly called out their names.

"Wonder Woman, Superman, Martian Manhunter, " Both of the aliens names were whispered with an underlying awe. "The Flash and Aquaman." His finger than landed on Green Lantern, and the boy furrowed his brows. "So who're you?"

"How do you know spooky but not me?!" Green Lantern ignored the Bat's glare in his direction at the use of the nickname, wounded pride and genuine bafflement allowing him to do such a thing.

"We met before." Danny state simply, as if that was the answer to all questions. "You?" He asked again.

This could not get worse. Green Lantern thought.

It could get worse. Green Lantern realized a few moments later after trying-and failing-to get the boy to recognize him as the members present were snickering at his plight.

Even Wonder Woman was trying to hold down a smile.

His eyes accidentally wandered in Batman's direction to see his reaction and he let out a quiet sigh of relief to see the man unmoved with only the slightest amount of disappointment that he didn't crack. Though it was wildly overshadowed by his ego being salvaged-

Batman's lips quirked up into a smirk before falling so fast that he had trouble believing if it was even there in the first place.

Green Lantern's jaw dropped as he stared at the Bat incredulously, who simply stared back. Unmoved, like a stone. As if he didn't just smile at him.

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 13

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 5318

Ao3 Link

Summary: You get to work on party planning, but your disagreement about the budget leads to some uncomfortable questions.

Author's Note: I am unwell. If it wasn’t allergy season, I’d roll down a hill, and lie in the grass for a while 😅

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Hair-Pulling, Degradation, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there), Bondage, Foursome - F/M/M/M, Gangbang, Brat Handling, Vaginal Fingering, PIV Sex, Creampie, Large Cock, Cunnilingus, Punishment, Orgasm Control, Multiple Orgasms, Dom Mihawk, Dom Crocodile, Switch(?) Buggy, Death Threats, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

“If you’d listened to miss Y/N before, she might still be yours,” Crocodile scoffed, shoving Buggy into a chair at a small desk by the door, leaving him close, but not too close. “This is your one chance to prove you’re not a complete idiot. Don’t fuck it up.”

“You got it, boss,” Buggy chirped, sneaking a wink in your direction while you fought a smile.

“Here you are, darling,” Mihawk interrupted, setting your notebook in front of you, along with a transponder snail. “I trust that you’ll behave on your calls today? I’d hate to have to come up with some sort of punishment if you try to–”

“She won’t try anything, huh, sweetheart?” Crocodile rasped. Goosebumps crawled over your skin as the back of that golden hook lifted your chin, drawing your eyes to his. “You’re our girl now, right?”

“I am,” you agreed, breathless as the truth left your lips. He tugged on a bit of your hair, that look of ownership sending warmth through you. 

I’m theirs. 

Humming at the thought, you laid out your notes, and went to work.

~

“This event will be expensive,” you warned, adding to the list of items needed to throw a party fit for the pompous guests you knew too well. The guest list was small, but you knew it would grow as the clients you'd called today gossiped amongst their privileged circles, and you hadn't even made it through your list yet.

“I already sent Galdino to meet with the backer you secured. That should provide more than enough funding,” Mihawk noted, looking at you over the top of his book. 

“Besides, they’re not here for caviar,” Crocodile huffed from his desk on the other side of the large room, “they’re here to pay for murder. I think that’ll be enough of a thrill for them.”

You cleared your throat, scribbling on the corner of a page.

“Do you disagree?”

How did he get here so fast?

Mihawk laughed at the little yelp you let out when Crocodile pulled the list from your shaky hands. 

“They want a show,” Buggy’s head declared as it floated between you and the larger man, his jazz hands floating beside his face. He gave a quiet huff as Crocodile used the notebook to swat him away like a fly.

“I’ll listen to your recommendations, sweetheart. Tell me why you think I’m wrong.”

Mihawk joined him in front of your desk, the two of them towering over you while Buggy started pacing. 

I wonder if I’ll ever stop being afraid of them. I wonder if that’s why I want to stay.

Shaking off the fear, and the flush to your cheeks, you straightened before answering with a steady voice.

“I’ve known most of these people for years. They want thrills, but only if they’ll be safe, and only if it’ll be good for their bank accounts in the long run. We need to convince them that they’ll gain more than they give by funding us.” You couldn’t read the emotions behind their sharp-eyed stares, but you pulled yourself through.

“We need to sell the product, and we need to be desirable. If we don’t look just as wealthy as they are, they won’t think we’re worth the air we breathe, let alone their precious berry,” you ended on a sharp note, swallowing a scowl. 

Mihawk leaned over the desk, holding your jaw while he stared at the hint of a snarl on your lips.

“My sweet, little rabbit doesn't seem to think highly of her old clients. This entire plan relies on these wealthy contacts being loyal to you, Y/N. You didn’t exaggerate their trust in you, did you?”

“No, I didn’t,” you breathed, your jaw clenching beneath his fingers. “As long as I keep being useful to them, they’ll keep pretending they care about me.” 

Ice filled the room from the pressure of your words, nausea coiling in your stomach.

“I’m good at what I do,” you coughed, Mihawk's fingers letting you pull away while you took a breath. “They’ll listen to me, but we need to put on a show.”

“Good thing you’ve got the flashiest showman around,” Buggy crowed, floating pieces of him over your desk again, shielding you from the cold stares of the other men.

“Buzz off, clown,” Crocodile snapped, resting his hook on your desk with a low, metallic thunk. “Sweet girl, do you think we’re liars?”

“Wha– n-no. I didn’t–”

“Skittish, little rabbit,” Mihawk purred, shouldering past Buggy’s now solid form to trail a finger down your cheek. “Why would you ever need to worry? You have so many uses.”

“Don’t start with that shit, swordsman,” Crocodile growled, moving beside you to trap you between them. 

“Didn’t you hear that hatred on her tongue, sandman? Aren’t you curious if our little rabbit carries that same venom for us?”

Buggy’s frantic eyes found yours around Mihawk’s side, but your golden-eyed lover returned his fingers to your jaw, pressing in.

“Do you hate us for using you, darling?”

He released your face at Crocodile’s looming threat, but his predator’s gaze still held you frozen.

A large hand across your shoulder blades relaxed you for just a moment, until that deep voice warmed your neck.

“Answer him, sweetheart.”

“Of course she doesn’t hate you, she’s–” Buggy started, going silent at the vicious glare Mihawk sent his way. 

Tension grew with every second until you found your voice again.

“I don’t hate you. I want to be here,” you laughed, a strange joy moving through you as you shook yourself. “You threatened to kill me, but I still trust you more than I trust any of those leeches.”

Lightheadedness came in a wave, your body buzzing as you looked back and forth at their frightening faces.

Fuck. Why did I say all that? Why didn’t I keep it professional?

You let out a sigh of relief as Crocodile's hand rubbed up and down your spine, and Mihawk lifted your knuckles to his lips. That gentle kiss felt overpowering, and he hummed when a soft noise left your throat.

“I think that’s enough work for today, don’t you, Crocodile?”

“Why don’t we take our dinner in the banquet hall tonight,” he suggested, tapping his hook on a blank notepad on your desk. “You can show us how to prepare it for a party of leeches.”

“Or we could just enjoy all the new tables to fuck you on,” Mihawk laughed, pulling you out of the chair to carry you. 

They bickered about who would be going first along the way, laughing at Buggy’s attempt to claim a turn.

“Go order the food,” Crocodile snorted, gesturing down the hall. “Stop being a fucking nuisance, and you might get to watch.”

You directed them to the large dining hall, giggling as Mihawk laid you across the head table. The room was already set up well, a small stage at one end, the head table stretched along a connecting wall, and round tables scattered across the floor. Once you had a more complete RSVP list, you’d be able to make a decent seating chart.

You propped yourself up on an elbow, your brow creasing a bit as you thought of which guests would need to feel extra special, and be seated the closest to your lovers. 

“I’m amazed that little mind of yours can focus on work,” Mihawk teased, tapping his fingers against your forehead. You threw your head back with a moan as he snuck a hand up your skirt. He rubbed his knuckles over your clit through your panties, already damp from the feel of his skin while he’d carried you. “When this little cunt is always so fucking hungry.”

“Dinner is served,” Buggy interrupted your moan, crashing through the doors with a rolling cart of food, the sliver-domed covers glinting under the lights. The tray slammed into a chair as he stared between your spread legs, his hands flying to catch the wine bottle and glasses just in time.

“Too bad,” Mihawk sighed as he licked the taste of you off his fingers. “I was about to have dessert first.”

Too many conflicting feelings flowed through your mind while you ate in this opulent room, drifting you away from the conversation as visions of fake smiles and expensive clothes danced through the hall. 

Gloved fingers on your knee snapped you back.

Buggy made a show of eating the last few bites off his plate, not meeting your gaze as your lips parted from his risky touch. 

What are you doing?

So far your sweet clown had done nothing but try to protect you from these men, but now his fingers were teasing up your thigh under the table. 

You wanted to let him, your mind starting to race through every possibility, every reaction.

Mihawk snatched that wayward hand from your lap before you had a chance to think, and you yelped when he slammed it on the table. 

“We decide when our girl gets to play with her toys.”

“Right, of course,” Buggy squeaked, his ears going red while Mihawk crushed his hand against the wood. “Sorry, boss, I was just feeling handsy! Ha, w-won’t happen again!”

Buggy’s tense giggle at the word handsy tore a laugh from you, and he managed to steal his hand back while Mihawk stood, his chair scraping across the floor. 

“Time for dessert,” he threatened, wicked fingers pulling you up by your hair. He dragged you away from the plates before tossing you on the edge of the table. Taking a seat between your legs, he gripped your ankles while you panted, trying to gain your bearings.

But you couldn’t gain your bearings, Crocodile’s lips crashing onto yours taking you over. He sat beside you, a satisfied noise leaving his throat at your desperate reaching for him. 

“Since you’re feeling so handsy, why don’t you pin hers down?”

Buggy hesitated for a moment, but pulled up a chair on your other side before his floating hands pressed your wrists into the wooden table above your head. Even though this was exactly where you wanted to be, being restrained and surrounded on three sides had you resisting against his hold. 

“You look so pretty like this, sweetheart,” Crocodile purred, tracing the side of his hook along your struggling arms, the barest scrape of the sharp point making you gasp.

“He’s right, such a tasty little rabbit in our trap,” Mihawk agreed, speeding your pulse as he pulled your panties down your legs. He dropped them onto Buggy’s lap, bringing a whimper from those painted lips. “Try not to come in your little pillowcase this time, and you might get to do more than hold her down.”

Buggy met your gaze, the need in his darkened eyes making your breath hitch.

He’s never looked at me like this before.

Your lovely clown, the Warlord of the Sea that had rescued you from your boring life. He'd taken you to new highs, given you more pleasure than you’d ever known. Before they came, he had looked at you like he wanted to eat you, to take you, to keep you. 

But the look on his face when he watched these other men have their way with you was something else.

He fucking loves this.

Before you could smile at the thought, a wicked tongue dragged through your folds, circling around your clit before plunging inside you. You filled the air with Mihawk’s name as he devoured you, until Crocodile’s fingers muffled your moans, making you tear up while he smirked at your stuffed mouth.

“Do you mind? I prefer a little music with my meals.”

Mihawk smeared his face along your inner thigh, and you shivered at the feel of his wet facial hair teasing your skin. Crocodile huffed a laugh, but pulled his fingers out of your mouth. He lifted the fabric of your top, tearing more of the clothes that Buggy had bought for you into shreds before playing with your breasts.

So many sounds left your throat as they teased you, Buggy’s hands gripping hard while you writhed for them.

Predators toying with their prey. 

“Please,” you begged, earning a laugh vibrating through your core as Mihawk kept going. You were already twitching before his long fingers entered you, Crocodile’s hook tracing dangerously down the side of your body.

“Fuck, Mihawk, I’m so–”

“Close,” he taunted, pulling away from you. Crocodile gave a disgruntled noise, but followed suit, taking his hand away from your chest. He left his hook though, the point resting lightly below your ribs while he looked toward the man between your legs. 

“I think we were close to something earlier,” Mihawk continued, his fingers playing along your thighs while you squirmed with need. “Close to learning more about our precious numbers girl.”

The loss of that almost release had you whimpering, but his words fell over you like a weight. 

“She’s been good, hawk-eyes. Don’t be so mean,” Crocodile smiled, brushing a bit of hair from your face.

“You know I’m going to make her scream, but my curiosity has been piqued. I just have to know,” he threatened, pressing his fingers into you. You moaned when he found that spot, but he tortured you, the touch too slow for relief. “Tell me, darling. Why do you carry such contempt for these wealthy clients of yours? You told us that your life was boring, but you snarled like a beast. Did we take in a monster instead of a sweet, little rabbit?”

He attacked you then, his free hand on your clit while his fingers brought you close again. You couldn’t answer through desperate moans, and the sobs that followed as he cut you off again.

“Please, sir. Please,” you choked out, shaking with need.

“Why do you hate them, Y/N?”

Your name on Mihawk’s lips always seemed to wake you, and you tried to calm your breathing before struggling for an answer.

“They’re terrible people,” you gasped, faltering at Crocodile’s low chuckle. “They don’t care about anything besides staying rich, and impressing the same circle of vapid families with how much berry they can waste on stupid, pretentious bullshit. They’re so fucking obsessed with status, they’d throw someone to the wolves just for the slim chance of their inbred blood marrying into the Celestial Dragons.”

Your body had forgotten its need, seething as the words raged through you. These were thoughts you fought to ignore, useless, meaningless thoughts that could do nothing but piss you off.

Buggy released one of your wrists, cradling your cheek as his thumb gently stroked back and forth. You looked away from the confusion and concern in his eyes, embarrassment filling you like bile. 

As if he felt your shift, Mihawk lowered your legs, coming to sit on the table beside Crocodile, and you clamped your eyes shut against the force of their stares.

“I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” Crocodile rasped, rubbing his hand along your arm. “I’m glad my sweet girl has some fire in her.”

“I agree,” the swordsman interrupted as he laid his still-wet fingers on your side, “but this seems personal. Why do you hate them so much, pet. Tell the truth.”

“I just… I’ve been surrounded by these people for years. They trust me with their money, and their money comes with secrets. I see what they do with all the wealth I help them grow, and I see what they don’t do. But even with all that berry, and all that selfishness, they are still so fucking boring.”

A wicked laugh left your throat, and you found yourself smiling as you looked into three sets of eyes. You melted for them, letting the heat of your need for them pour from you.

“But you promised that I wouldn’t be bored with you,” your voice came out in a purr, and you relished as all three faces filled with hunger when you writhed for them. 

Mihawk jutted forward to pinch your pouting lip, something new and dangerous flashing in his eyes.

“Are you trying to manipulate us,” he dared, tilting his head as he scanned your face. “Did you already forget who owns you?”

“No,” you gasped, lifting your neck as he tugged your lip further.

“Mihawk, back–”

“Can you believe what a dirty slut your sweet girl is,” he taunted, his free hand tracing up your thigh while you held your breath. “She just tried to use her body to distract us. You really loved being called a whore, didn’t you?”

You fell back when he released your lip, moaning as he yanked your hips toward the edge of the table. Your legs dangled off the side, and you tried to slide off to stand until he ordered Buggy to pin your wrists down again. 

Buggy’s brows creased as he hesitated for a moment, a small line of worry etched into his face paint. Yet he obeyed, leaving you to glance up at Crocodile, imploring him for forgiveness that you weren’t sure you wanted. Your eyes fluttered closed when he leaned down, kissing your temple.

“It’s true, isn’t it,” he asked, his husky voice overwhelming you. The point of his hook ghosted across your chest, forcing you to slow your breathing. “I promised all you gotta do is tell me what you want, and I’ll take care of you, but you still don’t believe me? Manipulation is real fuckin' close to lying, brat.”

“P-please, I–”

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth,” he threatened, his hook pressing into the side of your neck. “You’re gonna take what we give you, and then you’re gonna tell us the truth. Don’t make me show you what I do to liars, girl.”

Nodding stretched your throat against that sharp point, so you whispered your compliance. He withdrew the threat as Mihawk’s evil laughter moved closer. 

“I’m not so forgiving,” the other man smirked as he lifted your legs over his shoulders. You barely had time to meet his golden eyes before he shoved his cock into you, laughing through your screams.

“Using your body against me,” Mihawk scoffed as he grabbed at your chest, pinching one of your nipples while he pounded into you. “I’ll show you what it means to be used, rabbit. You get to be a real whore tonight.”

The acoustics in the banquet hall were incredible, your screams of pleasure flying through the room as you came on his brutal cock.

“What a spoiled little cunt. I wonder how many rounds you can take? Would you still like a turn, clown?”

Buggy coughed, looking up from the sight of your pussy taking all that abuse.

“Wha–”

“Did you ever call her a slut? Did you ever fuck her like the desperate whore she is right now?”

“No, I…” 

“Mihawk–” Crocodile leaned in, pressing his hand down on your chest. The swordsman never stopped fucking you, and you had to fight to pay attention.

“She earned this, sandman, and I think we should give our toy a treat. He’s been so good at holding her down, and keeping his mouth shut while I ruin his pretty star’s pretty little cunt. Let me play. I know you’re enjoying it.”

“… Fine. Only because she deserves this punishment. You hear that, brat,” he rasped, grabbing your face to watch you wither under his silver glare. “You try something like this again, and I’ll let twisted hawkeye pick your punishment.”

He pushed away just as another orgasm was ripped from you, your body clenching around Mihawk’s while he dug his nails into your hips.

“Hardly a punishment. You’re nothing but a slutty little hole, aren’t you,” he jeered, rolling into you until your eyes rolled back. “Alright clown, if you still want to stick your dick into this comeslut, you need to follow my instructions. Do you still want to fuck her?”

Buggy looked down at you with wide eyes, and you couldn’t tell if he’d noticed your nod of consent as Mihawk slammed into you, but either way, he whispered, “yes.”

“Good toy,” Mihawk praised, his breath heavy as his thrusts started to stagger. “As soon as I’m done, you’re going to fuck my come into her. You’re going to call her a whore, and you’re going to fuck her like one. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Buggy rasped, squeezing your wrists twice before taking his hands back to undress. Crocodile caught both of your hands in his. His eyebrow lifted just a tad, and you closed your eyes, knowing a smile would be on your lips if you weren’t making so many ungodly noises. 

Your safe word crossed your mind. All of your lovers knew it. 

But you weren’t even close to needing it. 

I’m such a slut.

You almost laughed to yourself, until you felt Mihawk start to twitch inside you.

“Look at my happy little whore. Just wait, darling. You’ll be crying soon enough,” he laughed before groaning, shoving his cock so fucking deep while he filled you. The heat of him made your eyes roll back, and you weren’t ready when they switched. 

Buggy’s needy moan arched your back. The feel of him sinking into your messy cunt after everything that had happened felt insane, electric. You met his gaze, his blown out eyes hardly human as he followed Mihawk’s lead, fucking into you like an animal. 

“Tell her what she is, toy,” Mihawk ordered softly, smirking at you over Buggy’s shoulder. 

“You’re…” Buggy started, his head tilting back as his breath sped through him. 

“You’d better not come before you tell her what a slut she is. And you’d better act like you mean it.”

Your sweet clown looked frantic as Mihawk’s dangerous fingers danced over his shoulders.

“You’re such a slut,” Buggy tried again, his soft voice making you moan. His bottom lip scraped through his teeth while he watched you react to him, and you cried out his name as he fucked you harder.

“You like this, don’t you,” he asked, voice gaining confidence with each word, with each thrust until you were screaming. “You like being a flashy little whore, huh? Like making me watch your pussy get fucking wrecked everyday?”

“Fuck, yes, Buggy, please.”

“Gods, Y/N, you feel so fucking good baby–…”

“She’s not good, she’s a dirty fucking hole to fill,” Mihawk growled, gripping Buggy’s hair while he whimpered. “Tell her what she is, and you can come inside her right now.”

“F-fuck, you’re a dirty slut. You filthy fucking whore. Fuck, I’m–”

That twitching, throbbing cock filled you and filled you, it felt like it just kept going. Just a few more of those desperate, overstimulated thrusts of his would have sent you over the edge again. You hadn’t even noticed when Mihawk took over pinning your wrists before Buggy was pulled away, and large, ringed fingers played in the mess he’d left.

Crocodile’s eyes burned into you as he scooped come out of your used cunt, rubbing it along his shaft before pressing the tip of him to your entrance. You squirmed away, stopping your movement too late.

“Get her on the floor, clown. I don’t wanna break the table giving this brat what she deserves.”

Your limbs were loose as the other man got you to the ground, spreading your legs for Crocodile as he lined himself up, grabbing your hip to hold you in place.

“This is nothing, sweetheart,” he threatened, bullying his massive cock into you, the other men’s come being forced out to make room. A satisfied hum vibrated through him at your pathetic little whimpers. “You need to know how fucking serious I am.”

“Okay,” you breathed, eyes stinging with tears as he shoved himself all the way in.

“If I ever find out you lied to me,” he growled, filling you again and again as he started thrusting, “you’re not gonna like the punishment you get. I don’t care how sweet, how pretty, or how fucking useful you are, you’re gonna be hurting. Do you understand me?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, the pain almost tipping to pleasure before he got mean, fucking you into the floor. 

“Yes, what, brat?”

“Daddy, yes da–”

“Fuck,” he moaned, drowned out by your screams. 

Crocodile didn’t stop, fucking you as your body shook, fucking you until your tongue hung loose, the hint of drool at the corner of your lips. 

“I’m gonna fill this bratty little pussy up, then you’re gonna be a good girl and tell the truth, because we can do this all night. Are you gonna be a good girl, or are we gonna have to keep taking turns ‘til your pretty little cunt starts crying?”

“I’ll be good, daddy. So good–”

“Mm, just like that. Fuck, you take my come so well…”

He filled you impossibly full, come spilling down the sides of his cock onto your already sticky thighs. Then he left you empty, but not cold, sliding down your body to press soft kisses to your neck and shoulder. 

“You really are smitten, aren’t you, Croc?”

Mihawk’s taunt sent tension through the larger man’s body, and you held your breath while those silver gray eyes poured over your features. 

“We’ve got a good girl here,” he countered, brushing hair from your face. “As long as she’s not a liar.”

“Yes, yes,” the swordsman tutted, “let’s get our girl cleaned up so she can tell us all about that hatred in her heart.”

The afterglow dwindled quickly at those words, but soon Mihawk was wrapping you in a tablecloth, lifting you into his arms. He hummed again when you let your head rest against his shoulder, tilting his face to leave a kiss on the top of your head. That little touch brought all your relaxation back, even from the frightening man that held you. 

Buggy snuck a quick kiss to your cheek while everyone got a turn under the hot water, and sleepiness hit you hard as Mihawk wrapped a towel around you. You’d watched him shave while the shower warmed up, and now you stood on the fluffy bath mat, swaying while you stared at him in the large mirror. Crocodile had left, and Buggy hovered near the door, but you were caught on the swordsman.

“What’s that?”

You stepped closer, but pulled your hand back before picking up the dark glass bottle he’d titled into his palm. Those unreadable golden eyes flicked to you while he dragged his fingers over his jaw, spreading that incredible smelling liquid through his facial hair.

“You tell me, bloodhound,” he smirked, holding his palm in front of your face. 

“Fuck, that smells so good.”

“Of course it does,” he chuckled, “what do you think is in–”

“Play your sniffing game tomorrow,” Crocodile grumbled through the door. “If our girl doesn't tell us the truth, we're gonna have a second round, and I’d like to get some sleep tonight.”

“Better not make daddy angry,” Mihawk warned in a hushed voice, nibbling on your ear before pushing you toward the door. “Better not make me angry either, rabbit. You know I can read you like a book.”

Shivering, you moved past Buggy’s wide eyes, glad to have him there. Mihawk guided you to sit against the headboard while the three of them sat around the edges of the bed, surrounding you again.

Silence strangled you, and you were about to crawl out of your skin until they all started speaking at once. The others conceded, leaving Mihawk to lean forward, touching your ankle as he spoke. 

“Tell us the real reason why you hate your wealthy clients, hate wealthy people in general? There’s something personal, and we need to know before you invite a whole slew of them to our lovely home. Can’t have you poisoning all the people who might give us berry now, can we?”

“I’m sure I’m not the only person who thinks rich people are trash,” you laughed awkwardly, yelping as his long fingers dug into your skin. “I'm s-sorry, it's just a joke…”

“Answer the question,” Crocodile ordered. His voice was empty, leaving your mind to fill in the terrifying blanks of what he had in store for you if you failed him. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you sighed, covering your face with your hands while you tried to pull your thoughts together. You opened your eyes to catch Buggy’s soft, worried smile, and you knew his hands would be comforting you right now if he thought they’d allow it. 

“I grew up with money, alright,” you spilled out, sounding more annoyed than you’d meant to.

Dead silence was finally killed by Mihawk’s derisive laughter.

“No wonder she’s such a brat, Crocodile. We’ve got a spoiled, little rich girl on our hands.”

“Shut up!”

Clamping your hands over your mouth too late, your eyes darted between all of their shocked faces. Buggy’s head had lifted a couple of inches off his neck, as if the force of his eyebrows raising had pulled it into the air. You bit your lip hard to keep from releasing panicked laughter. Crocodile moved closer, mirroring Mihawk with his hand on your leg.

“Tell us why you’re angry,” he soothed, rubbing his thumb along your skin. “But you need to stop making us dig for it, sweetheart. I’m not known for my patience.”

Blinking away stupid tears before they could fall, you nodded, letting your head fall back against the headboard before trying to speak. When the words finally came, it was like an echo through an empty room, your eyes almost unfocused as you told the boring tale.

“Family was rich. I grew up in those circles with all the parties, and galas, and expectations. I didn’t like it then either. But my dad died…”

Emotion swelled through the emptiness, and you had to swallow it down to steady your voice again. One of Buggy’s hands flew to yours, and no one stopped you from holding it.

“We stopped being rich. All those friends and neighbors stopped seeing us as real people. Even the parts of my family that are still rich treated us… They wanted us to beg for their help. To roll over, and let them– Fuck!”

They were all frozen through your frustrated yell. Buggy’s hand floated anxiously at your side after you’d dropped it to throw your hands into the air, digging your nails into your palms as anger rocked you. 

Why am I doing this? I’m such a fucking idiot. 

Your scolding thoughts couldn’t stop the wave of rage as it pushed through you.

“I don’t want to talk about this. I don’t want to talk about them. How badly are you gonna hurt me tonight if I don’t tell you anything else? Why don't I save you some time, because I will take a lot of punishment if we can just fucking drop it.”

The ringing in your ears seemed to last for hours until your labored breathing started to calm. Blue, gold, and silver eyes pierced through your body like vicious jewelry, clinging to your skin as you tried to disappear. You went unfocused again, staring vaguely toward the crown moulding as you awaited whatever pain they might inflict.

Almost at once, the three of them crawled forward, and you held your breath as they settled around you, their warm hands smoothing over your body. Mihawk and Crocodile brought their lips to your skin, Mihawk’s trailing down your neck while you twitched and whined. Crocodile kissed your temple before breathing along your ear.

“We promised to take care of you, Y/N. Want us to take care of somebody for you?”

“Hm,” you asked, a headache forming from the onslaught of emotions. 

“You’re ours, little rabbit. If you'd like someone to die, all you have to do is point the way.”

“Just tell me who, sweetheart. Daddy’ll gut them for you.”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: I honestly thought we'd never get to the reader's back story what with all the fuckin' 😅

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Part 14

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[morgana-larkin]

Ok, as requested, ending to yesterday’s fic, The Vendor, The Teacher and The Roses. And I would also like to thank everyone for putting up and liking my crazy fics, last night I hit 100 followers and I was surprised. 🫶🏻

I love dancing to music, it helps my brain relax and process thoughts, so you’ll likely see it pop up in my fics here and there. Ok, I’ll stop talking cause I know there was people who were wanting to know the ending. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

The Vendor, The Teacher and The Roses - Ending

Warnings: like one swear word, Mel singing and dancing 😍

Words: 1.14

She knows if she goes left to her place then that means she’s choosing Gary, and if she goes right that means she’s choosing you.

She then takes a few deep breaths and closes her eyes. She thinks about it for a good minute, weighing the pros and cons, she then turns her brain off and lets her heart decide. Then she opens her eyes again when she made her decision. She flicks the stick to put on her turn signal and turns.

Melisss is wondering the entire ride if she made the right decision. Should she have turned the other way or did she turn the right way? She drives the car in the driveway and gets out. She closes the door and locks the car then walks to the door, keys in hand. Once she gets to the door, she knocks on it and you open the door a few seconds later. She takes a look at you and sees you’ve been crying and her heart breaks a bit.

“Melissa?” you say quietly and she looks at you with a small smile

“Hi hon.” She says.

“Do I even want to know how you got into the building?” You ask her and her smile grew a bit.

“Someone who lives here was entering the same time I was and they let me in.” She says and you nod your head.

“What are you doing here?” You ask her.

“I saw your card, and the flowers.” She tells you and you widen your eyes.

“Melissa, you don’t have to say anything ok. It was a stupid idea and I know you’re with Gary and you love each other ok. I saw when you told each other.” You tell her and she thinks that that explains why the trash can was on the floor and why the flowers were thrown out right outside the break room.

“Y/n, why didn’t you tell me about your feelings before?” She asks and you look at your feet.

“Cause I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, because I value it so much. But then I saw you got mad from Gary ignoring you all day so I decided to go for it.” You tell her and she sighs.

“I should have realised it but I guess I was so blind.” She says and you look at her.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You tell her and she looks at you confused.

“Are you saying you want me to leave?” She asks and you tilt your head.

“Well the reason you came here, was it not to ask the questions you asked me already?”

“No, well, not the main reason.” She says. “I have feelings for you too. And I have feelings for Gary as well. When I got in my car I could have gone home or I could have come to see you. And I chose you.” She tells you and you step aside to let her in your apartment. She walks in and you both go sit on the couch.

“You have feelings for me?” You ask and she nods. “Well why didn’t you say anything?” You ask her and she looks at her lap.

“Well like you said, I’m with Gary. I thought my feelings for you might go away if I ignore them but they only grew.”

“What do you mean when you said you chose me?” You ask her.

“I mean if I went home then I would be choosing Gary, and I know I would lose you. If I came here then I would be choosing you and lose Gary.” She tells you. “And I can’t lose you.” She adds on and you look at her shocked.

“But you can lose Gary?” You ask her and she nods.

“He’s not as important as you.” She tells you and you look down at your fingers and twiddle your thumbs. Melissa takes your hand with hers and interlace your fingers and brings her other hand to your chin and gets you to look up at her. “I want to be with you.” She tells you and a tear rolls down your cheek. She wipes the tear and cups your cheek.

“I want to be with you too.” You tell her and you lean forward to kiss her but she puts a hand to your lips to stop you and you open your eyes and look at her confused.

“Believe me, I want to kiss you badly too. But I need to break up with Gary first, I’ll do it tomorrow after school.” She says and you nod.

“Sorry, I got excited.” You say and blush.

“Hey don’t be sorry, like I said, I really want to kiss you too, but I’m not a cheater.” She said and you nod.

“Can we at least hug?” You ask and she giggles. She nods and holds her arms out, and you lean in and put your arms around her. You two stay in the hug for a few minutes.

You then open your eyes when Melissa starts humming a song and you pull away to look at her. “I found myself dreaming in silver and gold, like a scene from a movie that every broken heart knows.” She starts singing and stands up and pulls you with her, she starts walking to the middle of the living room. “We were walking on moonlight, and you pulled me close.” She continues and pulls you close to her then continues it and looks in your eyes. “Split second and you disappeared and then I was all alone.” She starts swaying with you slowly. “I woke up in tears, with you by my side, a breath of relief and I realised.” She says and stops swaying to look at you. “No, we’re not promised tomorrow.” and she starts dancing with you as you both sing the chorus.

“So I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you, I’m gonna hold you like I’m saying goodbye, wherever we’re standing, I won’t take you for granted, cause we’ll never know when, when we’ll run out of time, so I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you, I’m gonna love you like I’m gonna lose you.” You end the dancing and singing and look at each other then put your foreheads together. She then pulls away and kisses your forehead.

“Do you want to come over to my place after I break up with Gary? I might need a kiss then.” She tells you and places a lock of hair behind your ear and you nod. She smiles at you then pulls away and leaves your place to go to her house.

You take a deep breath. What the fuck just happened? You think and you have a smile on your face for the rest of the evening.

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[look-at-the-soul]

Every little thing you do - Part 6

Tommy Shelby x reader

Series master list

🥰So another part to this series, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement! It means the world ♥️ and as I take your feedback seriously, I can assure you Tommy will be looking for a housekeeper substitute 🤭

Word count: 3,138

Y/N prayed silently her dress would close, Ada suggested getting it slightly loose at certain places just in case, because overnight, her belly was showing and most of her clothes wouldn’t fit anymore. It was funny because it only looked as if she was bloated but it was enough for a zipper to break.

“You ready?” Polly asked just as she knocked on the door, stepping in right away. As usual, she looked so elegant in her attire.

“Her dress is beautiful Mrs. Gray.” Y/N’s grandma pointed out making Y/N blush, she then turned to Polly. “And you look stunning.”

Polly nodded acknowledging her compliment.

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this gown.” Y/N stated staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person with her hair up in a simple but elegant hairstyle, make up in just the right places, accenting her features, and the dress fit like a glove. She had never had a dress like this.

“You need something else though.” Her grandma suggested, she looked beautiful in her attire too, the Shelby family were too kind to extend an invitation for her.

Opening her bag, Y/N frowned confused by what she meant, she had everything already.

“Your grandfather gave me these when we got married.” From a velvet pouch, she produced a pair of gorgeous diamond studs.

“I think these will look beautiful.” Polly encouraged, feeling a swept of love by the exchange.

Y/N on the other hand felt lost for words, to some it might be a small detail, but to her, the sentimental value it’s what weighted the most.

“These are meant to be wear on occasions like this, right?” She asked holding one of the earrings for her granddaughter while she hooked the other one.

“Looks like you’re all set then… let’s welcome the guests.” Polly added taking grandma’s purse to help her. “Everything’s going accordingly so far.”

The music filled the big room, people were dancing happily, champagne flowing, staff filling empty cups with booze and plates with appetizers. Y/N felt particularly mesmerized by the chandeliers catching the light beautifully and reflecting all around as if it was dancing as well.

Tommy insisted the party should take place in Arrow House, said it would be a good excuse to do a grand opening, so she immediately got busy to have everything ready. The place oozed luxury everywhere she looked, the most important names in the country RSVP’ed faster than she thought. Never in her wildest dreams she imagined how it would turn out, she spent so much time choosing flowers for the center pieces, napkins colors to go with the tablecloths, tableware as well as the menu, days of hard work paying off finally on this night and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to feel proud because she took care meticulously of everything.

“I’ll be back in a minute, need an ashtray.” Polly announced and took grandma by the arm to chat for a while.

Y/N was taking everything in, still not fully believing it was a reality.

“Johnny, get everyone in the kitchen.” He instructed. “Five minu-“ words got caught up in his throat as he took a double look to his left and found Y/N standing by herself next to the staircase.

Her hair was pinned up, framing her face so it was fully on display instead of hiding, the dress made her look gorgeous but the cherry on top was the glowing emanating from within her heart, pregnancy was suiting her well. He then noticed she opened and closed the handbag nervously.

She wasn’t the same girl that used to run with him a race at an open fiel until they reached the river. He let her win so many times… yet that girl was somehow still in her.

He had never seen her like that before. She was more beautiful than he imagined.

But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Tommy kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t think of her that way.

“Are you planning to give someone a heart attack?” He joked and took a few long strides to be at her side.

“I’m nervous,” she chuckled, “I’m the one having a heart attack.”

Turning around to face him, she felt her mouth going dry, the blue suit was a fabulous choice. It wasn’t traditional, but when she saw it at the tailor’s shop she knew Tommy had to wear it to the event and since she got a blank cheque, she added it to the account. He was so bloody handsome, but she thought that he looked even more that night. There, with a cocked smile and proud shining in his crystal eyes…

They stood there holding each other’s gazes, the people in the background fading away…

Until Johnny Dogs interrupted them.

“The boys are on their way Tom.” He nodded at Y/N. “Are we going, yeah?”

Tommy gave Y/N another look and she encouraged him with a smile to go.

He started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turning around he spoke; “Y/N you did an amazing job, thank you.”

Reaching his expectations was all Y/N wanted to achieve, to make him proud of her work. It was the way she knew in retribution to thank him for every little thing he did.

“And Johnny? Y/N told me she counted the paintings ey?” Tommy turned to give her wink. “So you better tell your kin they can’t steal anything or they’ll have to deal with a very pissed Y/N.”

Y/N gasped, of course she didn’t count the paintings. An evident blush covered her face and neck and she started shaking her head in embarrassment.

“Hey! That’s not true.” She tried to keep her manners, but her mind went back to when they were teenagers and her grandma discovered the two of them sneaking into the kitchen to get a slice of the pie she had baked and Tommy blamed it all on Y/N, the worst part is that her grandma believed him and scolded her granddaughter when it had been Tommy’s idea in the first place.

“Where are they, ey?” Tommy asked impatiently a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“I’m telling you now, we got lost,” announced Arthur. “You really need to do a map, Thomas.”

“Right, boys you’re all here.” Tommy started in a warning tone.

The blinders gathered around him in a circle.

“Tonight it’s a fucking very important day, we’re celebrating the Arrow House grand opening.”

“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” Interrupted John.

Tommy shot him a death stare. “Nevertheless… nevertheless, John… despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet.”

They were part of the guest list.

He made a pause and looked around to his men. “Now, for Y/N’s sake, nothing will go wrong. She has worked so fucking hard for everything you see tonight and the Shelby Institute. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”

“Tom?” Once more, John interrupted his brother.

“What?”

“What about snow?” Asked Isiah.

John replied something that Tommy couldn’t understand, but he felt his blood start boiling by their silly attitude.

“No, no, no.” He stood in front of the young blinder. “No cocaine.” Then pointing at his face, he repeated; “no cocaine. No sports.” He then moved to point at John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” Walking back towards Finn, he continued. “No fucking sucking petrol of their fucking cars.”

He hated to admit it out loud, but he was nervous to. He wanted to fit in, he needed to blend in among the richest and more powerful people, to be one of them. To prove everybody that he had been able to claim a stair that was only reserved for those who were born in a crib made of gold.

Meanwhile, upstairs Y/N attended several guests, listening to the stories they were sharing about how much it would mean to them to donate and give back to the community. Some of them, Y/N learned were important politicians who wanted to show a good image to help them gain voters, others members of the aristocracy just wanted to show their wealthy off. Whatever reason they had, Y/N was excited to see some of the cheques they were writing right there for the institution, additional to a monthly donation they promised.

Finding Tommy among the guests, Y/N approached him to ask him if she could save the cheques in his office.

“Can we see this later?” He relief not even sending a glance in her direction, his eyes were fixed like daggers in someone.

As he moved around like a gazelle, about to chase his pry, Y/N noticed a group of women eating him with their eyes, looking him up and down, seizing his frame, biting their lips, probably wondering how would it feel to be with him….

Y/N felt like she was out of place, she shook her head and decided to ask Ada instead where she should keep the documents. She then excused herself for a moment, feeling like the happy bubble had been popped given Tommy’s cold attitude. He was never like this, he had never left her talking alone before, but he had been a bit off the last couple of days.

For some unknown reason.

Perhaps she had been creating a fantasy in her mind, yes he was a good man, but he also had an explosive temper when he wanted to, he snapped at people at the slightest provocation. Why would he treat her differently? Just because a she was pregnant?

A knock on the door disturbed the peace she just found, and without waiting to be asked to come inside, Tommy called her name.

“Y/N you’re needed downstairs.” Tommy informed her, but he knew her too damn well. When Ada told him that Y/N was taking a minute on her own, he knew she wasn’t comfortable about something.

“What happened?” He asked patiently. She shook her head, not wanting to make a scene. “Hey, hey.. come here.”

It was everything, her pregnancy, her nerves, the bloody hormones, mood swings, worry to make everything perfect… him.

“I hope you don’t take personally what happened earlier, I was looking for someone that wasn’t invited.” Tommy explained.

Y/N looked at him tentatively. She walked into the en-suite bathroom to wet a cloth and press it into the back of her neck, careful enough to not get a stain in the dress, he followed her steps and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The familiarity and comfort between them was too personal.

“Is this why you’ve been acting distant the last couple of days?”

With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I act like this when I’m scared.”

Y/N turned around pondering into his words, giving him time and space to speak on his own terms.

“I need to make sure you’re away from this business. I don’t want you to get involved at all. Do you understand?”

“Tommy what’s happening?” It all made sense to her now, the secret phone calls, the late night drives, his mood.

“The less you know, the better.” He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t make something stupid.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, he was the one always making the bad decisions she wanted to say instead.

“You won’t get involved.” He was firm about his statement.

“Only if you promise to be safe.” Y/N retorted.

“I’ll try my best.” A soft smile played on his lips.

She mirrored the smile and followed him outside, to join their guest one more time.

“Mr. Shelby! This is a wonderful party.” Mrs. Lewis praised, she was the wife of a former major, a bit extravagant, she loved to show off. “And a beautiful house.”

“I appreciate your words. But all the credit goes to Y/N.”

“So the old wives tale is real huh? That babies come with a bunch of blessings.” She squinted her eyes happily at Y/N’s baby bump, then looked back at Tommy. “Congratulations! I wish this baby nothing but the best.”

Y/N opened her mouth to correct her, and clarify that Tommy wasn’t the father. But Tommy cut her out.

“Thanks, hopefully you’ll be able to help us with the fundraising.”

“I’ll tell family and friends, you can count on that Mr. Shelby.”

As the woman disappeared, Y/N turned her face around to look at him.

“Let people talk, they’re going to do it anyways.” He stated, then as a waiter passed by, he took a glass of whiskey from the tray. “Rule number two; never reveal the truth when they can barely deal with a half truth.”

“What’s number one?”

“Oh, I’d tell you… but then I’d have to kill you and I’d be kind of sad you know?” He winked at her and elegantly strode towards where the music band was playing to grab the microphone.

“Good evening everyone, thank you for joining us tonight. As some of you may know, the Shelby Foundation Institute will open doors in a couple of weeks, we’re sure with this project we’ll be able to help many many children in need, grant them the education their parents can’t afford and a safe environment to learn and develop the abilities that’ll will help them in a near future.” A round of applauses filled the room and Tommy thanked the guest with a small nod. “Your contribution is highly appreciated, it will allow us to complement and provide everything that’s needed. I can assure you, your money will be well spent and we’re more than open to welcome you any time at the Institution.” His eyes started moving across the room. “Last but not least, I’d like to thank to the responsible of this project, the one who since day one showed a genuine interest and despite the doors that were closed in her face, she never backed down until this was a reality. Y/N thank you for everything you’ve done.” Raising his glass in her direction, he recognized her effort and compromise.

Blushing from getting all the attention towards her momentarily, she started biting her lip.

When Tommy started walking, people over to the side, making something similar to a human wall and leaving a space free for him to walk until he reached Y/N.

“Dance with me?”

The gesture took her by surprise, but soon Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist and he started swaying to the beat of the music.

“Everything is perfect, thank you for taking care of every little thing.” He admitted with a very rare smile.

Carefully to not make Y/N dizzy, Tommy spun her around, following the music beats.

“Thank you for taking us in.” Y/N replied as a wide smile spread on her lips.

Feeling like nothing she could say or do was enough to thank Tommy. She’d be in debt with him for the rest of her life.

“You’ve nothing to-” he started to say but she cut him off.

“I do, every single time I blink, I feel so grateful to have you in my life.”

Tommy gave her hand a squeeze. “If things were different… wouldn’t you do the same?”

“Yes.” She admitted in a heartbeat.

“Then this better be the last time you thank me.” He raised an eyebrow as a warning, but his eyes remained giving her a gentle look. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”

One more careful spin and the piece was done. A round of applause filled the room and the background noises brought them back to reality.

“I’ve to go, stay here, stay safe.” Tommy stated. “You know what to do in case something bad happens.”

He had already showed her where to hide in case anyone broke into Arrow House. It wasn’t his favorite outcome, but he had assured her it was for the best of she was prepared. Luckily he hadn’t show her how to use a weapon, but she knew the day might be closer than she thought.

“Tommy…” her heart started hammering her ribcage, she could feel it in her ears too. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”

The look of worry he found in her eyes made him fight the lump in his throat. If something happened to him, what would she do? Who would protect her? Who’d look after her and the baby?

“Will do. This is the last ilegal business, you know I want to make it right.”

Clearing his throat, he looked around finding Arthur giving him a nod, they were ready to go.

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured her once more.

As a different music started to play, Y/N went on to search for her grandmother.

Meanwhile, downstairs Lizzie was crying and smocking in such a bad shape after having a word with Michael about Angel, she started shouting when she heard what they did to his restaurant, she was fuming.

“Miss Stark can I help you?” Mary asked, smoothing her apron.

“Do you’ve a gun? So I can shoot someone?” Lizzie wiped her nose.

“No ma’am.” Mary took a step closer. “May I ask what happened?”

“The Shelbys blew my boyfriend’s restaurant so he couldn’t come to the party.” She tried to smooth the black mascara under her eyes.

And she started to whine and bent into the maid all she knew about the stupid rivalry between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s.

Mary ignored Lizzie’s past, she only knew she was her master’s secretary, so she felt naturally bad for the green-eyed woman.

“I don’t get it, Thomas gets to have the little happy family with Y/N and also dictate who am I able to be involved with.”

“But they aren’t a family, the baby isn’t Mr. Shelby’s.” Mary dropped an unexpected bomb.

Lizzie stared at her in disbelief, her jaw dropping.

“Are you sure?”

“The motives of why he keeps her under his protection are unknown to me, but he isn’t the father of that baby.” The housekeeper assured her.

Lizzie nodded automatically, processing the news and thinking how this piece of information changed a lot of things.

“So Y/N is a little slut after all.” She mumbled to herself, planning in her mind a couple of ideas that would tear down that facade of integrity and good morals Y/N carried around like a crown. A woman’s reputation meant much more than anything.

And of course, it didn’t match the wealthy people standards.

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TYSM for reading! Remember your feedback feeds a writer’s soul 🥰✨

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[momojedi]

Could I have #88 and #97 with Captain Rex, pretty please...??

JUST MARRIED PAIRING: Captain Rex x GN! Reader

#88 | “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…” #97 | “I want you and I know you want me too.”

GENRE: Fluff WARNING: none A/N: Since I got prompted #88 by an anon who asked for no one in particular, I mixed up your request with theirs. Thanks for requesting!

MASTERLIST | MOMOJEDI'S 300 FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

"Mhi solus tome,

Mhi solus dar’tome.

Mhi me’dinui an,

Mhi ba’juri verde."

Intense concentration furrows my brow as I massage my temples, striving to translate the unfamiliar words. "For fuck's sake," I mutter, frustration punctuating each syllable as I kick a nearby pebble with surprising strength, eliciting a muffled groan and the metallic clang of beskar as it ricochets off a distant helmet.

Two weeks may not seem long, especially when operating undercover among a terrorist faction whilst the galaxy is engulfed in war. It would probably be advisable to keep a cool head and avoid making a big deal out of insignificant subjects—such as unfamiliar phrases. However, when those words escape the lips of your longtime crush, delivered with an unexpected fervor while locking passionate eyes with you in a language foreign to your ears...

Well, needless to say, I've devoted more time to overthinking it than I care to admit.

When General Skywalker tasked us with shadowing Death Watch until the Jedi Council reached more intel, I hadn't given it much thought... admittedly, he hadn't specified that by "us" he didn't mean Ahsoka and me, as usual, but rather the captain of the 501st and myself—the very someone I've harboured feelings for since the day we met.

Nevertheless, I maintained my composure, played my part, and stayed under the radar, much like Rex, until Death Watch proposed an elaborate ceremony—a ceremony whose name I could barely pronounce, let alone understand its significance. Before any suspicion could arise, Rex quickly agreed in my place, and now here I am, entangled in some eerie ritual with a military captain whose gaze seemed entranced, so intense was his focus.

"If I had my datapad right now...," I hiss under my breath, casting blame on whoever decided I should leave my sole translation device behind. Likely Skywalker.

The crunch of gravel under heavy boots interrupts my daydreaming. I spin around sharply, only to find the very man haunting my mind approaching. "I figured I'd find you here," Rex hums as he settles beside me. "Yeah," I reply with a dry laugh, brushing the dust off my hands. "Sorry, I suppose I just needed... alone time. After everything yesterday, you know?" Rex's eyes widen almost comically, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "Oh... yeah."

The ensuing silence gnaws at my nerves, prompting me to pop the question after another agonising five minutes. "Hey, about that... what did those words mean, anyway?" "I'm not sure what you're referring to," Rex responds, avoiding my gaze. I gulp. He can't have forgotten, can he? "Come on, Rex... It seemed significant." After a moment's hesitation, Rex sighs, running a hand over his buzzcut before raising his head to face me, though still evading it. "I..." "Yes?" "Alright, fine. [Name], don't panic, but... we might have accidentally... gotten married."

...

"WHAT?"

"Shh!" Rex quiets me with a gentle hand over my mouth, his eyes darting cautiously around us before he releases me. I shake my head slowly, puzzled. "Sorry, but what?" "The, um, the words... they were Mandalorian wedding vows," he admits, his tone tinged with uncertainty. I can't help but laugh. Married? Us? "You're joking." "Unfortunately not," he replies, a slight smile tugging at his lips, before his expression shifts to sheepishness as he rubs the back of his neck. "Though I do believe you'd make an excellent partner." Suppressing a chuckle, I ignore the warmth creeping into my cheeks.

"Actually, I realized we needed a distraction when I overheard some members gossiping behind our backs. They were growing suspicious, so I thought perhaps they'd relax if we participated in some traditions." Rex sighs, examining a pebble he's picked up. I shoot him a hopeful sidelong glance before quickly looking away, feeling my heart quicken.

Force, this man is captivating.

Silence envelops us once more as we both drift deeper into our own thoughts. When I sense the gravel shifting under his weight, I raise an eyebrow. "It wouldn't bother me, you know?" A lump forms in my throat, causing a series of coughs to escape at his words. "Wh-what?" "Being with you." Suddenly, his warm yet weighty hand finds mine. Sweat prickles at my heated skin as I keep my gaze fixed ahead.

"R-rex, are you suggesting...?" "[Name]," he interrupts, turning to face me. Before I can evade his gaze, he gently lifts my chin, compelling me to meet his eyes. I run my tongue over my dry lips, which his gaze is now fixated on. "I want you. And I know you want me, too." His proximity sends shivers down my spine as goosebumps ripple over my arms and back. His newfound confidence is palpable. "I've noticed the way you look at me, how you stare. I know, [name]," he murmurs against my lips, "what do you think?"

I flush, gripping his wrist as I lock eyes with his warm gaze. "I think you're right." Rex chuckles deeply, resonating like a rumble in his chest. "Good." And before I realize it, his lips meet mine,

Time seems to slip away as I surrender completely to the kiss. Eventually, Rex pulls back, leaving me breathless, and flashes me a mischievous grin.

“So, about that wedding night…”

[hey-august]

I know I'm pathetic - Pt 6

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Fic tag)

✨The final part!!✨ I just added a warning for implied sex since I did a last minute adjustment. I hope yall had fun reading this throughout the week! 🩷 And for those who prefer to read everything in one-go, enjoy!!

WC: ~550

Warnings for the entire story: NSFW, mdni, Buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, dubcon, auralism, masturbation, buggy is a fucking perv, slight degradation kink, implied sex

Tag list: @rorywritesjunk @lostfirefly @ane5e @fanaticsnail

Title from Pathetic by blink-182

“Captain…”

Shit. He definitely didn’t imagine it. This was a problem. Did you know? Were you messing with him? He needed to find out.

Buggy flew out of his room before reigning himself in. There were plenty of people still awake and he didn’t want to drag attention to himself. He strode to the bathroom, unsure what he would do when he got there. What he would say to you. What he would ask.

It didn’t matter though. By the time he got to the bathroom, it was empty. You were gone. All that was left was steam and a message on the mirror.

“I’m waiting for you.”

Was this message really for him? Were you actually waiting for him? Why? Was it a trick? Buggy’s mind was reeling, torn between the fucked up fantasies he’s been indulging in and what little grasp on reality he still had.

An unexpected sensation pulled him from the cyclone of thoughts. A warm breath on his ear. His ear…where was it? It wasn’t in the bathroom anymore.

Lips grazed his missing appendage and he shuddered.

“Captain? Did you find my message yet?”

Buggy's breath stopped in his chest as you whispered directly to him.

“I know your secret,” you teased. “I know what you’ve been doing, you perv. You’re a dirty guy, you know?”

He whimpered.

“Wanna know my secret?”

“Yes,” Buggy gasped to no one.

“I bet you do…my secret is that I like it. I like knowing that you touch yourself to me, captain.”

Buggy’s hand flew to his aching dick. If you liked it, he’d keep doing it.

“You’re probably touching yourself right now, you creep.”

He whimpered again.

“Would you stop if I told you to?”

He stopped.

“Would you screw me if I asked you to? I think I’d like that a lot more.”

Buggy’s legs moved before you finished that question.

“Please don’t keep me waiting too lon-”

You were interrupted by a frantic knocking and a breathless demand to open the fucking door.

---

Your sheets were soaked with sex and sweat by the time you two were drained and exhausted.

Buggy wasn’t sure if he was falling asleep or blacking out. His back was pressed against your chest and you were warm. So very warm.

“How’d you find out?” Buggy mumbled through the edges of sleep.

“Your boots are loud.”

Right. He knew that. He should have known it was a give away.

“I also had your ear on purpose.”

Now he was awake. Before Buggy could roll over, you held him tighter.

“Accidentally on purpose,” you laughed. “I found it earlier that day and put it in my pocket. I forgot and only remembered when I heard you outside my door. By then, it was too late.”

“Too late…”

“Well, I might have stopped if you knocked. But it sounded like you were enjoying yourself.”

Silence hung in the room as the words sunk in.

“You tricked me into listening to your- your debauchery, just so you could get off!" Buggy’s hands broke free and gestured wildly in the air. “You’re the pervert! You corrupted me,” he huffed offendedly. Provokingly.

“You were always a dirty freak, captain. Don’t be a liar too,” you said against his ear before giving it a small bite.

Buggy groaned softly through the smile on his face. He was a dirty freak. A depraved degenerate. A pathetic pervert. And so were you.

[queen-of-the-avengers]

Practice Makes Perfect

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~700

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You're working on a movie alongside your celebrity crush, Elizabeth Olsen. Can you overcome your nerves enough to get through it?

Squares Filled: wanda maximoff for @badbitchesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Action movies are your specialty. Action movies are what make you comfortable. You like doing your own stunts, getting makeup done to look bloody, and getting your adrenaline going because of how extreme they want you to act. It’s what you’ve always known since all the movies you’ve been in have been action films.

Not this time.

Your agent got you a role in a modern romance film since she thought you’d be perfect for it. You are but that doesn’t mean you don’t know how to act in one. All the action films had a bit of romance to it but nothing like what they‘re asking you to do now. You only accepted because the director is a really good friend of yours and you couldn't turn her down.

Not only are you nervous about being in a romance movie, but you’re even more nervous that you’re acting beside the legendary Wanda Maximoff. Elizabeth Olsen has been your celebrity crush for years and you’re not sure how you’ll be able to film a romance movie with her without freaking out.

Actually, she’s more than just a celebrity crush you have. You’ve met her a few times over the years and she is the sweetest person you’ve ever met. She is shy and reserved but she is down to Earth and genuinely cares about people. She is a good person and that’s hard to find nowadays with celebrities.

You pace back and forth in your trailer with the script in hand for the few scenes you’re going to be acting out later. The director feels like it helps to get all the awkward and uncomfortable scenes out of the way so you don’t have to feel it later on, so the script is nothing but kissing scenes here and touching scenes there.

God, why did you think you can be able to do this? If your costar was anyone else, you wouldn’t have a problem with it. It’s only because it’s her that you do. What if she doesn't like the way you kiss? What if she doesn’t want to kiss you? What if she becomes repulsed by kissing you that she doesn’t want to do the rest of the movie?

Making her feel uncomfortable is the last thing you ever want to do, and you don’t want to ruin what you two have if there is anything there to ruin.

Someone knocks on your trailer door, interrupting your thoughts.

“Who is it?” you ask.

“Lizzie. Can I come in?”

You practically throw the script somewhere in your trailer so it doesn’t look like you’ve been obsessing over it. You lean against the counter in an attempt to look nonchalant.

“Yeah, sure. “ The door opens and Lizzie walks in with a smile on her face. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you before we head down to set for the day.”

“Oh? What about?”

She looks around the room and sees the script half on the couch and half hanging over it.

“About that. I’m guessing you read most of it if not all?”

“Yeah, I did,” you nod, your resolve fading fast.

“Anything I can do to make it better? I figure we should talk about it so it doesn’t become awkward when we’re actually doing it.”

“I gotta know, are you in a relationship? I know actors who have these scenes are, but I have to know.”

“No, I’m not,” she smiles and walks closer to you. “Are you?”

“No.”

“Good. We got that out of the way.”

“Yeah.” Your breathing picks up the more she comes closer to you. “So, what are we going to do about it?”

“Well, you know the saying, ‘practice makes perfect’?”

“Yeah.”

“I think that applies here, don’t you think? You don’t want either of us messing up and having to redo the scene dozens of times to get it right, right?”

Now that you think about it, it might not be a bad idea until you think of everyone watching you mess up.

“Right,” you whisper.

“Then come here.”

She pulls you in by your belt loops and kisses you softly at first to test the waters. Only when you cup her jaw with both hands does she kiss you a bit harder. Butterflies explode in your stomach from the contact because this is everything you thought it was going to be and more. 

You two don’t need practice because this comes naturally to both of you.

“You give me butterflies,” you whisper against her lips.

“Same here,” she grins.

And that is how you started dating your wife, Elizabeth Chase Olsen.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[snwusberry]

untitled#2

pairing: dad!seonghwa x mom!reader (black reader)

genre: fluff

warning(s): the word daddy is used but not for those reasons.

wc: 1.3k

reader's pov

i sit to the side watching thing one and thing two go at it with the cookie dough. no, they're not kneeding it or anything like that, they are busy tearing that shit up, smacking on it trying to make it look like they're 'rolling' it. at that time they think i haven't noticed yet. i have! like father like daughter for real.

"at this point we won't have any cookie dough left to make these cookies for the bake sale." i say more to myself but loud enough for tweedledum and tweedledee to hear.

byeol's school organizes a bake sale for every grade as a fundraiser and it's the 2nd grader's turn tomorrow so we're busy making all the treats were going to sell at our stall and since they're literal babies, the parents need to be there so seonghwa and i both took an off day to be there for the bake sale. we spent the last 2 days making decorations for said stall and i still have glitter in my hair from when byeol got distracted and turned seonghwa and i into "fairies".

"right... byeol i told you to stop eating the cookie dough." seonghwa fake scolds the little girl who's mouth hangs open at the pure betrayal.

these two are like two peas in a pod. a truly unbreakable pair but lord are they a mess.

when seonghwa and i found out we were having a girl we were over the moon. he's always wanted a daughter so imagine his joy. me? i was just happy to be there, boy or girl i would've been happy with either.

he treats her like a precious, rare stone and spoils her rotten but don't let that fool you, she's still an extremely humble and well mannered girl.

"but daddy, it was you who kept eating!" she whines, defending herself looking absolutely adorable with her two missing front teeth.

i smile at the two of them and seonghwa starts rolling the dough looking mighty fine, might i add. his hair is pushed back with a squiggly headband and to top his whole outfit off he's wearing the frilly apron that my mother made for me as a housewarming gift.

the oven dings and byeol jumps to hand me the oven mitts. "thank you dear."

"you're welcome mommy." she smiles which is really contagious and makes me smile too. i get the cupcakes out of the oven and the little girl jumps up and down excitedly.

"be careful love, they're still hot." seonghwa warns her and she nods and takes a step back before jumping again. "what else is left?" seonghwa asks, cutting the dough into little heart shapes.

"icing for the cake pops."

"can i have one mommy?"

"you had way too much sugar today princess, it's 8pm now."

"mmh and you should be sleeping." seonghwa adds but the little girl pouts.

"how am i supposed to sleep when the house smells like candy wonderland?" her squeaky little voice gets louder at her question which makes seonghwa and i laugh.

"but you need to sleep now so you have enough energy for the bake sale tomorrow. then you'll have all the sugary stuff you want." seonghwa whispers amd her eyes light up and she runs to her room and again, we laugh at her little actions.

"let's go put her to bed." i say to seonghwa and i switch off the stove so we can follow the little girl to her room. she's already bathed and in her pj's, bonnet on and everything, so i don't have to worry about that.

we walk into the room and see her already in bed and seonghwa shakes his head.

"what happened to brushing your teeth princess?" he questions and she springs out of bed and runs to the bathroom to brush her teeth and seonghwa smiles shaking his head at her antics. "she's still on a sugar rush. she's not falling asleep anytime soon."

"mmh, 'come lick the spoon princess, here's a cookie, help me roll the dough.' sound familiar?" i recite his own words to him and he raises his hands in surrender. that's what i thought.

"she gave me those eyes." he tries to defend himself and honestly, i get it. it's almost impossible to say no to her when she starts looking all 'sad'.

sad in quotations because, let's be real, she knows what she's doing.

"learn to say no."

"have you?" he questions in an accusatory tone and i accept defeat. granted, i can say no to her, it's just difficult to. seonghwa on the other hand?

i'm saying all of this, he's really good with parenting and discipline, it's just those moments, like these, when he's like, 'fuck it, let her have some of this and that and this too maybe.' she's a kid, let her enjoy.

she comes running back into the room and i look at my husband who's shooting me a look too. there's no way she's falling asleep now.

"maybe we should let her run it off a bit before bed?" i suggest to him and he sighs with a nod and byeol looks between us confused. seonghwa nods and we turn to the little girl.

"what's with you two?" she asks us and i smile down at her.

"byeol, i think we should run before your father catches us." i tell her with a fake tone of fear and she smiles widely. she loves this.

"let's go mommy." she grabs my hand and gets out of bed so we can start running with seonghwa chasing behind us talking about some, 'don't let me catch you'.

the house is filled with her laughter and little shrieks everytime she turns back and seonghwa is near. when she starts slowing down that's when we know she's done for the day.

"okay my baby, let's get you to bed, yes?" seonghwa says, picking her up but her stubborn ass protests.

"but i'm not tired yet." she yawns literally as she says that.

"case closed. let's go."

we both go to her room and seonghwa lays her on her bed, letting her go under the covers. it's routine for both of us to tuck her in whenever we can otherwise she'll be restless.

"what do you want tonight, story or song?" i ask her and she pretends to think for a bit. she usually prefers a song so she's most likely gonna choose that.

"song! but mommy please don't sing this time?" she tells me, blocking her ears and i gasp. excuse me kid??

"i'll have you know, i was very blessed with some killer vocals. you just don't get it." both of them give me the same unimpressed look. literally the same, she's a photocopy of her father. i honestly feel like it's unfair but that's a story for another day. "okay let's have daddy sing, i know who your favorite is."

"you're both my favorites!" she yells, pulling us both to her and we laugh and wrap her into a group hug.

"okay my angel, let me sing you a song okay?" seonghwa says and she nods, laying down completely and hw starts singing. i start patting her as his voice soothes her to sleep and i smile, feeling completely content in this moment. it's just me, my husband and my daughter and there's nothing and no one else that exists to me.

we hear a little snore and that's our confirmation that she's sound asleep. she really doesn't take time. we take turns giving her a kiss on the cheek before quietly exiting the room and going back to the kitchen to finish baking.

"baby?" seonghwa calls me and i hum. "don't you want another?" he asks and looks up from the pot and i glare at him, pointing a roller pin at him.

i can tell he's joking by his tone because he knows good and well that neither of us want another. in this economy? absolutely not.

"point taken."

we laugh and we continue baking for this bake sale we're both dreading.

[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood. 

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye.  The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees.  The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane. 

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you  realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later. 

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead. 

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?” 

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how  incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them. 

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks. 

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.” 

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide. 

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now. 

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her.  “How could you?” 

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips. 

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.  

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life. 

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself. 

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes. 

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it. 

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to? 

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends. 

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence. 

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him? 

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

[glearyyyne]

the boy is mine

Synopsis: After your business trip, you head back to the Jujutsu High only to hear that there are newly transferred students when it hasn't been that long since Kugisaki and Itadori came. You didn't think that the new student will potentially be your rival to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 5,247

Warning: 18+ DNI, student-teacher relationship, Jealousy, possessiveness, marks, injury, tied wrists, new students.

Note: Yes you read the warning, this is a student-teacher relationship. This is like half of the smut since I'm still not confident to write it but I want to challenge myself to write smut. this story might be cringe to you though since I already find it cringe at the end T-T But I can't ditch this since I already finished making this so I hope you enjoy it!!

_____________________________________________________________

"Are there new transfer students again?" you asked nobara, who sat nearby, meticulously filing her nails while filling you in on the latest gossip from Jujutsu High during your brief absence on a recent business trip.

You were taken aback by the news of more transfers, considering it hadn't been long since Nobara and Yuji joined the school.

Nobara hummed in agreement as she blew on her nails, and you continued unpacking your things from your luggage. 

"What did Sensei say about the situation?" you asked slowly. 

"Oh, he's the one who introduced them to us, and, take note, he was happy while introducing them," Nobara answered. 

You stood there, holding your clothes, suddenly feeling a surge of jealousy.

"What do they look like?" you quickly asked, not noticing how Nobara smirked before she answered. 

"Oh, well, just a girl and a boy. I heard they were from Kyoto under Utahime's supervision, but I don't know the story behind why they were moved here," Nobara simply answered.

"They've already met Maki-san, Inukami-san, and Panda-senpai, so the only person they haven't met is you, a third-year student," Nobara added. 

"So, am I meeting them later?" you asked after finishing hanging your clothes in the closet and putting away the luggage.

"I don't know, they're on a mission right now. Megumi's assisting them," Nobara answered. 

"Then I guess we should head for training," you said while walking out of your room, leaving Nobara whining since you picked training instead of going shopping.

**

You and Nobara stopped training, catching your breath after some intense combat training. 

Just as you were about to drink water, you heard a commotion from the training room. 

The door was slightly open, revealing an annoyed Megumi before he opened it widely to let someone, or some people, through.

You were met with unfamiliar faces, their sheepish smiles suggesting a mix of nervousness and excitement. 

"Nobara, it's your time to tour them," Megumi instructed her. 

"What? Gojo-sensei specifically asked you to tour them!" Nobara argued back, leaving the two of them in a back-and-forth argument that made you sigh.

"Sorry about them, they're like oil and water," you apologized to the newcomers.

"It's fine," the girl replied with a reassuring smile.

"You two must be the newly transferred students, I suppose?" you asked, noticing their enthusiastic nods in response.

"I'm Riku Nakamura," the boy introduced with a toothy grin.

"And I'm Himari Takahashi," she introduced with a confident smile.

"Oh, and I'm—" You began to introduce yourself, but before you could finish, Himari cut you off. 

"You must be [Reader's name]?" Himari asked, leaving you confused as to how she knew your name.

"How did you know my name?" you asked her, confused.

"Oh, the pink-haired boy told us," Himari replied casually, as you mentally facepalmed. 

'Right, it had to be Yuji,' you thought to yourself. 

You glanced at Nobara and Megumi, who seemed to have calmed down as you addressed them. 

"I'll go and tour these two; you two go have some relaxation time," you said before gesturing for the new students to follow you out of the training room. 

With a nod of agreement from Nobara and Megumi, you led Riku and Himari out, ready to show them around the school.

After walking for a while and sharing some history about a particular object you three passed by, you suddenly bumped into Satoru.

"Sensei?" you asked when you noticed him.

"[Reader's name]! I thought you were still on a business trip," Satoru exclaimed, offering you a warm smile.

"Here," Satoru added, passing you a bag filled with donuts. "I got them for you," he said with a toothy grin.

"Thanks," you replied dryly, but deep down, you were truly grateful for the gesture.

Satoru's eyes then shifted to the two new students as the conversation took a turn. "How was the first mission? Was Megumi a great help?" he asked them.

You observed the exchange, particularly focusing on Himari, who seemed to be acting differently.

"Good, Fushiguro-san was a bit annoyed, but he's a great help," Riku answered, with Himari nodding along.

"Well, I guess being stubborn still sticks with him," Satoru remarked with a chuckle.

"Oh, Riku, come with me right now. I need to talk about something, regardless of your rank," Satoru told him, prompting Riku to nod before following him.

As they were about to leave, Satoru turned to you. "I'll see you later. You know where to meet me," he specifically told you.

You nodded, already aware of what was to come.

"I will, Sensei," you replied as he smiled before he and Riku left, leaving you alone with Himari.

"You seemed close with Sensei," Himari remarked after glancing at you.

"Yeah, I've been ever since I came here," you replied casually.

"Is that so?" Himari replied, her tone neutral.

You hummed as you continued walking, with Himari following closely behind. 

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy at the thought of Himari possibly trying to get close to Satoru. 

But deep down, you knew he was yours and yours alone.

**

After a long day, you made your way to where Satoru was, ensuring no one was following you since it was nearing midnight, and everyone should have been asleep by then. 

Standing at the door, you took a deep breath before softly knocking as you waited for Satoru's permission to enter.

When you heard a “come in” from satoru, you opened the door slowly, keeping your gaze on the doorway as you closed it with your body facing the door.

Lost in thought, you remained standing there, unaware of Satoru's presence behind you until he wrapped his arm around your waist and whispered in your ear, "Is something wrong or bothering you?”

You felt your body heat up quickly from the closeness, but you managed to maintain your composure. 

"Nothing," you replied softly, but Satoru wasn't convinced. 

Slowly, he dipped his head down to the exposed skin of your collarbone, leaving a trail of gentle kisses that sent shivers down your spine. 

With his free hand, he delicately tilted your jaw towards him, his touch sending electric tingles across your skin. 

His lips met yours in a sensual kiss, you felt a rush of desire wash over you, melting into the intoxicating warmth of his embrace.

Without breaking the kiss, you turned around, wrapping your arms around Satoru's neck, pulling him closer as you sought to deepen the embrace. 

Sensing your urgency, Satoru pressed you against the wall, his hands firmly gripping your waist as he intensified the kiss. 

Lost in the moment, you surrendered to the passion, feeling the heat between you two grow with each passing second.

After pulling away to catch your breath, Satoru's other hand moved up to the door, stopping right beside your head as he lowered his gaze to meet yours. 

Despite the romantic setting, you felt a sense of intimidation wash over you.

"You sure it's nothing bothering you?" he asked again, his concern evident in his eyes.

You looked at him and nodded. "Yes," you replied, trying to reassure him, even though there was a hint of uncertainty lingering within you.

Even though Satoru was wearing his blindfold, you could feel his blue eyes staring at you with doubt. 

After a moment, he sighed and pulled you into a hug.

"I missed you," he said softly. "I missed you so bad ever since you went on that business trip," he added, and you couldn't help but giggle, knowing he would sulk any moment now.

"But we video-called every night when I was away, though," you reminded him.

"Yeah, but it's much better if you're here in my presence, not on some phone," he replied, his voice tinged with longing.

"Hey," he said, making you hum in response as you continued to hug him.

"You'll tell me if anything is bothering you, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

You nodded, replying softly, "Yes, I will."

Satoru let out a deep chuckle. "Good," he said reassuringly.

Feeling like you shouldn't dwell on thoughts of Himari, you decided to let things go, focusing instead on the warmth of Satoru's embrace.

**

As you reflected on the past week, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret about your earlier reassurances. 

Himari has been getting on your nerves lately.

Recalling how she constantly eyed the door from the training area while she was training with Maki, you remembered how you had been there, waiting to train with Maki after she finished with Himari. 

Her eyes kept darting towards the door, anticipating Satoru's arrival with his usual sweets to interrupt the training session. 

You couldn't help but feel a twitch of annoyance when you noticed how her eyes would light up upon seeing Satoru.

During one time when Satoru once again disrupted the training session and distributed his usual sweets to everyone, you were the only one who received strawberry mochi. 

It was impossible for anyone not to notice, and they all seemed to understand why you were the only one with a different treat. 

However, Himari, being the curious cat she was, approached you after the training session to inquire about it.

As you were gathering the used weapons, Himari struck up a conversation, catching you off guard. "Do Sensei usually do that?" she asked, referring to the different sweets he gave you.

"About what?" you replied, feigning ignorance.

"The, uhm, giving you a different sweet?" she clarified.

You paused for a moment, considering your response. 

Despite your irritation towards her, you decided to entertain the conversation. 

"He knew I'm allergic to those, that's why he got me strawberry mochi. That's how considerate our Sensei is," you explained.

She simply responded with an "oh" before returning to help you clean the training room.

You suddenly wanted to whack yourself for not telling the truth, especially after an incident in the classroom. You were busy taking notes when the first-years came to accompany you. 

Despite their innocent intentions, you couldn't shake the feeling that they were up to something, especially with Himari present and Riku nowhere to be found.

As you were engrossed in your notes, Nobara approached your table with a smirk on her face. 

"Oh, [Reader's name], could you please pass this to Sensei?" she asked, handing you a paper. 

Muttering a sure, you reached out to take the paper when suddenly someone else grabbed it, causing you to flinch. You looked to see Himari holding the paper.

"I'll do it, [Reader's name] is busy with notes, so instead of making her do more work, I'll do it. You don't mind, right?" Himari explained before turning to you, awaiting your reply.

Your blood boiled as you clenched your fists, trying to calm yourself down. 

"No, I'll do it, Himari. Besides, I had something to pass to Sensei—" You started to stand up, reaching for the paper, but Himari pulled it away.

"Oh no, really, you stay here and finish your notes. I'll pass this to Sensei," she insisted before swiftly leaving the classroom.

Frustrated, you grabbed the crumpled paper you had tossed aside, tightening your grip on it as Nobara tried to suppress her laughter at the situation she had just witnessed.

You quickly glanced at Nobara, who abruptly closed her mouth and averted her gaze. 

"Nobara, as much as I hate to point fingers, what was that?" you asked her, frustration evident in your tone.

"What's what?" she replied innocently, pretending to be oblivious.

"What Himari did!" you finally snapped.

"She's trying to make you jealous," Megumi interjected.

"Fushiguro!" Nobara exclaimed, clearly annoyed by Megumi's interference.

"It's better to speak up than to let things escalate," Megumi calmly countered.

"I think your idea is a bad one, Kugisaki," Yuji chimed in.

"Oh, please, I just want her," Nobara said, pointing at you, "to realize that Himari could be her potential rival for Sensei's attention!" Nobara explained, her determination shining through.

"Just admit you're there for the dr—" Before Megumi could finish his sentence, Yuji quickly chimed in, "Oh well! I think it's best if you continue doing notes," he said, with a nervous laugh.

You stared at the three of them suspiciously. "Look, I'll do whatever I have to do to her since Sensei's my business now," you told them firmly.

They already knew about you and Satoru being in a relationship. Yuji and Nobara had accidentally seen Satoru's contacts, noticing the name he had saved yours under. 

Megumi had been aware of it even before he joined the first year.

All they could do was sigh in response, muttering okay before returning to their tasks. 

You did the same, focusing on your notes, but your mind was preoccupied with thoughts of what to do about Himari. 

As you sat there, pen in hand, you couldn't shake the feeling that something needed to be done about her meddling behavior.

**

You had asked Riku to accompany you to the storage room to retrieve some boxes. 

"You take this one while I take those on the side," you instructed him. 

He nodded in understanding and went to lift the designated box, while you grabbed another.

As you both left the storage room and headed downstairs toward the classroom, Riku spoke up. "[Reader's name]," he began.

"Yes?" you replied, curious about what he was going to say.

"Are you and Sensei, like, closer than everyone else here?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You felt a twinge of surprise at his question. 

How did he already know that when even Himari seemed oblivious? 

"I guess you could say that," you replied cautiously, your grip tightening around the box as you continued on your way.

"Why do you think so?" you asked him, intrigued by his observation.

"Well, every time he accompanied me on a mission, he always made sure to bring some sweets on our way back. He'd stare at the display of sweets and mutter something like, 'What does she want, hmm?' I just thought since you got the strawberry mochi last time, I guessed he was talking about you. Am I wrong?" Riku explained, his tone thoughtful.

You were surprised at how observant he was, especially since he often seemed quiet during training sessions. 

"I see, you're quite observant," you told him, offering a compliment that seemed to make Riku giggle, pleased with himself.

You and Riku were so engrossed in conversation that you didn't notice the staircase ahead. 

The box you were carrying blocked your view; before you knew it, you were stepping into thin air. 

Panic surged through you as you began to fall, instinctively calling out Riku's name.

Riku reacted just in time, shoving the box away and reaching out to grab your arm. 

Despite his efforts, both of you tumbled down the stairs, and you ended up landing on top of him, your body pressing against his chest as you both lay sprawled on the ground.

You began to panic, attempting to stand up but failing as intense pain shot through your ankle, causing you to whine in agony. 

"[Reader's name]! I-I—" Riku stuttered, clearly flustered by the situation.

Suddenly, someone wrapped their arms around your waist, helping you stand and pulling you into a comforting hug. 

"What happened?" a concerned voice asked, and you recognized it as Satoru's.

"S-Sen—ow," you tried to explain to Satoru, but before you could finish, you fell back into his chest again, letting out a yelp of pain.

Satoru's voice was filled with concern as he spoke to you, his arms still wrapped around you protectively. "Are you alright? What happened?" he asked, his tone worried.

As he glanced over at Riku, there was a subtle hint of jealousy in his eyes, evident to anyone who knew him well. 

However, he quickly masked it with a reassuring smile, his focus returning to you as he waited for your response, ready to offer his support and assistance.

"All you could muster was, "Hurts... so bad," as you told him about the pain. Satoru let out a sigh of concern, gently lifting you into a princess-style carry.

As he carried you, his gaze flickered over to Riku, a warning look in his eyes that seemed to say, 'If I were you, I would stay away from her.' 

With that silent message conveyed, Satoru hurried you to Shoko's clinic, determined to get you the care you needed.

After Shoko treated your ankle, you found that you could walk just fine again.

However, Satoru still insisted on carrying you like a princess back to your dorm.

"Sen—Satoru, I can walk," you reminded him gently as he lifted you, navigating the stairs.

"I can't help but think you're dangerous to the stairs, baby," Satoru replied with a smirk, refusing to give up his hold on you.

"Oh, come on, I fell because the box was blocking my view," you explained, feeling a hint of frustration.

"But that still doesn't help me with my jealousy," Satoru said playfully as he reached your door and finally let you down.

You sat down at the edge of your bed, letting out a sigh, while Satoru stood nearby, silently observing you. 

He walked up in front of you, his presence commanding attention, and took off his blindfold, placing it on your nightstand. 

Looking up at him, you noticed the intensity in his gaze, like that of a predator sizing up its prey. 

"What?" you asked, curious about the purpose behind his scrutinizing stare.

He didn't give a response; instead, he leaned down and captured your lips in a passionate kiss. 

You responded eagerly, your heart racing as Satoru gently pushed you onto the bed, never breaking the kiss.

He hovered over you, it became clear that his actions were fueled by the jealousy he felt earlier, a desire to declare his claim over you.

Satoru's hand caressed your waist, his touch sending shivers down your spine as he played with the hem of your uniform. 

Pulling away slightly, he took a deep breath, his eyes locked with yours.

“I love you” he spoke with affection showing in his eyes. You suddenly felt soft as you replied. “I love you too,” you told him with a soft smile.

He smiled and suddenly you forgot about Himari, the cause of your jealousy.

**

A few days later, Satoru organized a training session for everyone, emphasizing that attendance was mandatory.

Fortunately, you hadn't been assigned to a mission yet, so you were able to attend. 

Arriving at the training room in your usual workout attire, you found everyone already engaged in warm-ups.

Satoru stood at the front, observing everyone's movements with his usual keen eye, despite the blindfold. 

When he noticed your presence, his smile brightened, and he waved in your direction. 

Even though his eyes were hidden, you could sense the warmth in his gaze as it landed on you.

Satoru's clap echoed through the training room, effectively capturing everyone's attention. 

"Now that everyone's here, we should start our training," he announced, his voice projecting clearly.

As the group gathered in front of him, forming a line from left to right, Satoru contemplated his next instruction. 

"I'm thinking we should do pairing," he suggested, his tone thoughtful as he considered the most effective way to structure the training session.

"But then again, since y'all are not an even number, someone will be without a partner. I'll be their partner then," Satoru generously suggested.

The pairs were quickly formed: Maki with Panda, Inumaki with Megumi, and Nobara with Itadori. 

However, this left you, Riku, and Himari without partners, as Satoru had predicted.

You were about to head over to Satoru, knowing he was your usual training partner when someone grabbed your wrist. Startled, you turned to see Riku standing there.

"[Reader's name], be my partner," he said, surprising you with his request.

"Uh, but—" you began, unsure how to respond, when Himari interjected.

"Looks like I don't have a partner, Sensei," she said, her tone sweet as she batted her eyes at Satoru, clearly vying for his attention.

“Well, I guess I don't have much choice," Satoru replied nonchalantly, leaving you staring at him with frustration. 

It felt as if he were doing this on purpose, purposely pairing you with Riku instead of himself.

You and Riku moved to a spot not too far from where Satoru and Himari were standing. As you began cleaning your weapon, Riku spoke up. "I'm sorry," he started.

"About what?" you asked, looking up at him.

"That I stole you from Sensei to be my partner in training," he explained apologetically.

You sighed, feeling conflicted. "Well, I couldn't do much since it happened already," you told him, trying to brush it off.

"But really, I was just forced by Himari when Sensei said that we're doing a pairing," Riku revealed, causing you to freeze as you stared at him in disbelief. 

"What?" you asked, taken aback by his confession.

"The truth is, Himari actually knew you two were together. She just can't accept that uh, you got the strongest sorcerer?" Riku explained, his words catching you off guard.

"What?" you said again, incredulous at what you were hearing.

"Her words, not mine," Riku added, emphasizing that it was Himari's perspective and not necessarily his own.

"I don't know why, but I know it had to do with her clan. It was supposed to be only me who transferred here, as I was recommended by Utahime-san to the first grade. I needed Gojo-san to accompany me on missions since you know how it is when you're being recommended," Riku explained.

You nodded along, listening attentively as he shared his insights into the situation. 

There was more to Himari's behavior than initially met the eye.

"That's why I'm telling you, [Reader's name], to do something that'll make Himari know her place," Riku urged, his tone firm and determined.

"I've got an idea. Riku, I need you to hold my feet as I do push-ups," you instructed him, lying down on the ground while Riku looked on, confused.

"How would that be a good idea?" he asked, clearly skeptical.

"Just do it," you told him, deadpanned, sensing Satoru's gaze on you even though you didn't look directly at him.

Riku was about to protest, but he sighed and complied, positioning himself in front of you and holding your knees tight. 

You stole a glance at Satoru and Himari, noting that they were busy with their combat training. 

Despite not looking directly at them, you could feel Satoru's gaze on you, his attention never wavering.

"Don't freak out when my face gets close to you," you warned Riku, but he seemed preoccupied with glancing back and forth between you and Satoru, who was paying attention to your interaction.

"I-I don't think this is a good idea," Riku protested, but you ignored his concerns and began to do your push-ups. As you lowered yourself towards the ground, your face came dangerously close to Riku's.

Intent on making it appear as though you were kissing Riku, mimicking the style of exercise Satoru favored since it often led to affectionate moments between you two, you held the position for a moment before pushing yourself back up.

Just as you were about to complete your eighth push-up, a hand suddenly came through, blocking your face from reaching Riku. Startled, you looked up to see Satoru with an irked smile on his face.

"Is there a problem, Sensei?" you asked innocently, playing along with the situation, while Riku looked on in panic, unsure of what to make of the unexpected interruption.

"Satoru looked at Riku. "Riku, I need you to partner with Himari for now as I need to talk to [reader's name]," Satoru instructed Riku with his authoritative tone. 

Riku, sensing the seriousness in Satoru's voice, stood up and left, obediently complying with his sensei's command, leaving you two alone.

Satoru's smile dropped as he looked at you, his expression serious. "You," he pointed at you, then pointed to himself. 

"Me," he gestured to himself, before indicating the door. 

"In my dorm. Now," he commanded firmly.

You stood up, meeting Satoru's gaze, and noticed Himari staring at the two of you with an unreadable expression. 

Without hesitation, you stuck your tongue out at her before turning to follow Satoru out of the training area and towards his dorm.

**

Once inside, Satoru pushed you onto the bed after locking the door behind him. 

You landed on your stomach, about to protest, when he swiftly grabbed both of your wrists and tied them together with his blindfold.

"Satoru—" you began, but he silenced you by leaning down close to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "You're playing a dangerous game, baby," he whispered.

"What game?!" you exclaimed, trying to free your wrists from his grasp.

"That," he replied, his voice low and husky, "doing our usual exercise position with someone else. You know how much I like that." His words sent a thrill through you, despite the apprehension swirling in your mind.

"But it's not fair when you let Himari be your partner when you know we're usually partners in training!" you defended yourself, frustration evident in your voice.

"Oh, baby, I see, you were jealous, weren't you?" Satoru teased, his tone playful as he held your tied wrists. 

His other hand traveled up to your shorts, teasingly grazing over your clothed pussy, eliciting a surprised gasp from you as you arched your back at the unexpected sensation.

"You were jealous too!" you pointed out, your voice tinged with accusation as you tried to suppress the moans threatening to escape.

Satoru noticed your struggle and quickened his pace, the intensity of his touch driving you closer to the edge.

Desperate to muffle the sounds of pleasure building within you, you buried your face in the sheets, trying to stifle your moans as Satoru continued to push you to the brink of ecstasy.

"So what if I am?" Satoru countered, his voice husky with desire as he continued to rub your clit, coaxing wetness to soak your panties. 

"Baby, I always show everyone how I get when I'm jealous, and I was just curious about your reaction," he explained, his touch igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through your body.

"Ngh, stop, ah," was all you could manage to reply as you were overwhelmed by the pleasure Satoru was giving you.

"How about this, baby," Satoru proposed, his voice husky with desire. 

"You stop playing games with Riku, and I'll stop with Himari."

You were unable to reply, too consumed by the sensations coursing through your body as you felt yourself getting closer to climax.

"Getting close, princess?" Satoru asked, his voice teasing as he noticed you slightly shaking.

"I am—ah," you replied, your words trailing off into a moan as the pleasure intensified, pushing you toward the climax.

"Promise me, princess," Satoru urged, his voice filled with longing, but you were too lost in the waves of pleasure to respond.

Sensing your lack of response, Satoru slowed down his pace, eliciting a whine of protest from you. 

"I was... so close—why slow down?" you managed to utter, tears beginning to well in your eyes.

"You weren't answering me, kitten," Satoru chided gently, his voice tinged with amusement as he chuckled at the way you shivered at the pet names.

"About what—ah!" you yelped when you felt Satoru slap your butt, the sudden sting adding to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.

"You weren't listening to me, baby," Satoru reminded you, his tone firm yet teasing. "I asked that you promise me to stop that nonsense with Riku, and I'll stop with Himari."

"I promise! Please, let me cum," you begged desperately, the need for release consuming you.

"I will, princess," Satoru whispered into your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he fastened his pace once more, finally granting you the release you craved. 

Your body convulsed in ecstasy as you cum, waves of pleasure washing over you as Satoru guided you to the peak of bliss.

Satoru removed the blindfold from your wrist and placed it over your eyes, positioning you on his lap. 

"Let's continue, baby, but I want you to wear my blindfold," he chuckled, but you were still too lost in the aftermath of your climax to fully comprehend his words.

"Is there anything that my baby wants?" Satoru's voice brought you back to the present moment, and you found your voice. 

"Let me mark you," you told him, a sense of possessiveness washing over you.

Even though you couldn't see him, you knew Satoru was smiling like a fool. 

"I'll let you later, baby," he promised, guiding you to lay on the bed as he positioned himself on top of you, showering you with passionate kisses.

The rest of the day melted into a steamy night with Satoru, and as you drifted off to sleep in his arms, you felt like the ultimate winner, content in the knowledge that he was yours and yours alone.

**

You woke up to the sound of loud knocking, finding it difficult to move with Satoru spooning you from behind. 

With a groan, you attempted to untangle yourself from his embrace, finally managing to slip out of bed. 

You grabbed a shirt of his and hastily threw it on before making your way to the door, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"What?" you asked, your voice groggy with sleep as you opened the door to see who was disturbing your peaceful morning.

To your shock, it was Himari standing at the door, holding a bunch of papers. "Oh," she replied, her tone smug. "Isn't your room in the other building?" she asked, her audacity irritating you.

Rolling your eyes, you retorted, "Well, it's never too bad to have a second room to sleep in."

Himari scoffed, unimpressed by your response. "Where's sensei?" she asked, her fake smile not fooling you.

"Sleeping, obviously," you replied curtly, but she wasn't satisfied. "Can you go fetch him? I need to give some important documents to him," she insisted, her tone demanding.

You had enough of her nonsense, so you snapped at her. 

"Listen here, you dimwit, can't you see this?" You pointed to the mark Satoru left on your neck from the previous night. 

"Isn't this enough to tell you that I'm his girlfriend? You can just give that to me instead of ordering me to fetch him for you," you angrily told her, frustration evident in your voice.

Himari was too stunned to speak, giving you the chance to snatch the papers from her hands. 

"I'll let him know that you dropped this off. But if you ever try to get close to him again..." You trailed off, mimicking a neck slice gesture with your hand as you smiled sweetly at her before slamming the door shut.

You sighed, placing the papers onto the coffee table, intending to deal with them later. 

You turned to head to the bathroom to cool off, but you heard Satoru's groggy voice from the bedroom. "Baby?"

"Yeah?" you replied, pausing to listen.

"Where are you? I need my morning hug," Satoru whined, his voice filled with longing.

"I'm coming," you told him, unable to suppress a giggle at his antics.

"You better be," he teased in response, his tone playful.

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (4/?)

Word Count: 2,270

Chapter 4

"Meet me on your best behavior, meet me at your worst…" - Death Cab for Cutie

Wondering who-the-fuck-in-Hell would be there knocking this late at night; Lucifer opened his door. Seeing that it was, in fact, Alastor standing at his threshold with a seemingly pleasant smile across his face; Lucifer immediately bristled.

“What in fuck’s – wait. Is that wine?” Lucifer peered behind Alastor’s waist; seeing his separated shadow clasping a large bottle of Riesling and a pair of wine glasses.

“Yes. I thought it might pair well with our…discussions. May I?” Alastor asked him, politely.

“…yeah, ok.” Lucifer stepped aside; letting him in.

Alastor stepped inside; his shadow following close behind. The shadow paused briefly beside Lucifer; offering him the bottle. Lucifer took it, and the shadow swept further inward to be closer to Alastor. Looking at the label; Lucifer closed the door.

“Where in Hell did you get this!?”

“I don’t just deal in souls; your grace.” Alastor told him. “And I’m rather partial to a rare vintage every now and again. This one has been made ready for us to enjoy.”

“No shit. Damn.” Lucifer led him to a small suite; directing him and his shadow to some plush chairs and an ornate table for them to recline by. There were less rubber ducks and circus trinkets scattered throughout here than were piled in his work-room. Alastor didn’t seem to pay much attention to the surrounding room though; his gaze never straying across items, walls, furniture, etc. He was very focused on his business here.

Alastor’s shadow; taking the bottle from Lucifer – opened it and began pouring wine into the two glasses. Alastor and Lucifer both sat down. Lucifer reached across for his wine glass; then leaning back he asked:

“So…what the fuck do you want to talk about?”

“I’m sure you are well aware of the subject matter that I wish to address with you tonight.” Alastor said; taking his own glass from the table and gently swirling the liquid. His shadow excused itself into a dark corner nearby.

“Hm…how forthright of you. You seem to be in a more…agreeable…mood tonight than you were yesterday.”

“The extermination is merely a couple months away…I had hoped that I might avoid having to address my…“rut” until sometime after, but I’m afraid that won’t be the case.” Alastor explained. “I’d like to discuss the best…approach to the problem; if you are so inclined.”

“Uh, huh.” Lucifer said dismissively. “So, what exactly are we discussing then?”

“I’m afraid that the effects of the cycle will greatly influence my duties in safeguarding Charlie and the hotel. During that time, I won’t be getting much sleep and –“

“Do you actually sleep?” Lucifer interrupted, prodding him.

“Yes.” Alastor answered him honestly. “Maybe not as much as most but I do require a reasonable amount.”    

 “I must have really taken the wind out of your sails.” Lucifer tipped his glass to his lips. “I didn’t anticipate you coming here and being so candid with me.”

“Yes, well, I can admit when I’ve made an ass of myself.” Alastor allowed.

Knowing this was as close to an apology as he was liable to get; Lucifer stated: “Well, I won’t say that I’m sorry. If anything, I think I should have gutted you sooner.”

Lucifer waited for Alastor to make a quip at that but then; he said nothing. Instead, he raised his own glass to sip from – offering no comment.

Interesting.

“Ok, so I assume you are wanting to formulate some plan going forward, is that it?” Lucifer clarified.

“Indeed. Initially, I preferred the idea of you safely displacing me from the hotel until I cycled out but, the timing is not ideal. There’s too much to be done and I don’t like the idea of leaving the hotel unguarded for any extended length of time.”

“Ah, lock you away in a tower just like you’re Rapunzel and I’m the dragon.” Lucifer japed; unable to help himself.

“I don’t recall a dragon in that particular fairy tale.” Alastor remarked.

Lucifer nearly choked on his wine. “The fuck do you know about fairy tales!?”

Alastor shrugged then waved him off; “Essentially…I suppose, but it’s not a good solution; not now.”

“Oh?” Lucifer absently traced a sharp claw around the rim of his wine glass. “How long do these things usually last for you, anyway?”

“You are somewhat familiar with Cervidae demons, yes? You’ve commented on it once before. We are commonly known for our deer-like tendencies. One very prominent one being that we experience fluctuating periods of cyclic mating periods or “the rut”. There’s a lot that gets rather muddled with it though; it’s confusing even for us demons that experience it because each and every individual is different in the timing, frequency or intensity of their own personal mating cycles.”

“Sounds frustrating.” Lucifer offered.

“It…is. I never know when a rut will happen or for how long. I can usually tell when one is approaching due to certain…changes. Even now though; I know one is coming I just don’t know when. I could start the cycle tomorrow or in a couple of weeks; it’s terribly inconvenient. Judging by personal experience; my cycles range anywhere from part of a day to several weeks. Unfortunately; avoidance is what lengthens the period. If I…sate, the need and rather quickly, the period tends to be much less.”

“So what if I contact Asmodeus? I’m sure we could find you some willing participant from the lust ring to fulfill whatever needs you need satiating.” Lucifer suggested. “He might even have another Cervidae in mind.”

Alastor shook his head. “I’m not comfortable with that. I assume when you offered and agreed to our deal that it was implied that you would be the actual one to…manage this. I’m afraid now it might have to be quite literal. Lilith wasn’t wrong in saying that I’ve killed other demons during my rutting. After your explicit demonstration yesterday; I am confident you would be well equipped in governing my actions.”

 “Honestly, I meant it in whatever way you wish to take it. I’m no prude.” Lucifer shrugged; tipping his glass. “While we’re on the subject though; I’d really like to know –“

“If you are referring to my moment of sexual homicidal infamy; I’d rather not discuss it.”

Lucifer very much wanted to prod more into it; but, he could see that Alastor was making a great effort here in being professionally courteous. Which led him to his next question;

“So, what exactly is your deal with all of this?” Lucifer asked him; setting his wine glass down now. “You’re here pitching off your plans to me like we’re discussing something terribly unpleasant. I get that you might think sex is beneath you; or rather you’d prefer you didn’t need it but, c’mon…if you have to go through it anyway, why not own it and enjoy it?”

“You misunderstand. It’s not my perception of sex that has anything to do with it.” Alastor told him. “I simply don’t…care for it.”

“What?”

“Apart from when I am in rut; it holds no interest to me.”   

“None? Whatsoever, just….nothing?” Lucifer gaped at him.

“Truly.”

“So, you just can’t get it up unless you are in one of your rut thingy’s?” Lucifer was trying to make sense of this.  

“Not exactly…” Alastor huffed. “With enough effort; stimulation and finding the right mindset – sure…but, it doesn’t just happen. It’s really and truly something I don’t care to think about or pursue, otherwise.”

“I can’t…I can’t wrap my head around that. I mean I-I could fuck anything that moves. Not that I really would but, well…you know.” Lucifer shrugged.

“No…actually, I don’t.” Alastor reaffirmed.

“So, do you – do you like know what you want to actually like…do?” Lucifer asked him.

“How do you mean?” Alastor’s ears slightly leant back; whether it was him being uncomfortable by the question or a display of true confusion; Lucifer couldn’t tell.

“Mutual masturbation? Oral? Anal? What have you?” Lucifer threw out.

Alastor’s ears stiffened; pressing further back. Definitely discomfort.   

“When I’m in in rut; I’m sure anything and everything will be open and on the table.” He sighed.

“So do you like, turn into an even bigger asshole when your rutting?”

“No, not quite…that more tends to happen to the time leading up to it.” Alastor was telling him; briefly remembering his friend Rosie dismissing him from a brunch they were having in Cannibal Town once telling him: “come back after your damn rut; honestly, you’re worse than a woman!” He couldn’t remember details; only that he was terribly aggravating to her that day.

Meanwhile; Lucifer was waging an internal battle. So, you were PMS-ing yesterday? He very badly wanted to say it…he very nearly did, but he reigned it in; feeling it prudent to continue with the good footing they had established here.

“It’s more that I’m…” Alastor was continuing with his answer. “I’m just – Well, I can be a lot in those moments.”

The Radio Demon promises a good time… Lucifer thought, then he asked:

“Ok, so circling back. When or where are we going to…hash this all out?”

“I’m naturally crepuscular; and I’m generally more nocturnal in my activities. I can easily manage myself during the day. If we spend too much time at the hotel; even in my radio tower – we run the risk of being found out or discovered. If I spend too much time here or elsewhere; it leaves the hotel vulnerable. I propose we go back and forth; it won’t be so different to my normal activities – no one would think to question it at this point – and I have Niffty and Husker established so that if anything were to happen while I’m away; I’d know and can be there almost immediately.”

“Hm…yes, that might be wise. We can always tell Charlie that you and I buried the hatchet, as it were, and are meeting to discuss ideas with how best to proceed with the upcoming exterminations. She’ll wish to be included – of course – but if I tell her it’s something you and I are bonding or getting to know each other over; she’ll let it be.”   

“How…very manipulative of you.” Alastor commented; ears perking up. He was…impressed.

“Yes, well…” Lucifer reached back for his wine; lost for a moment in his thoughts. Then leaning back in his chair again; he offered:

“You’ve been very…frank with everything tonight. Do you have any questions you wish to ask me?”

“This meeting Charlie has with Heaven…do you think it will accomplish anything?” Alastor had in fact; been holding onto some questions.

“No.” Lucifer told him bluntly. “I don’t but, Lilith foresaw Charlie asking me to arrange it. I’m not…comfortable with it but Lilith will be there – Charlie won’t know that, of course – but it’s the only reason why I’d allow my daughter to go up there without my being there with her.”

“Do you think Lilith will succeed with her plans?” Alastor asked him, wanting to know. “Do you think that she can actually overthrow Heaven?”  

“If anyone; it would be her.” Lucifer finished off his glass; Alastor’s shadow quickly slid out from the corner to refill it for him. Lucifer nodded to it, taking a sip as it shifted itself back away. “She’s been planning this for some time now, making sure everything falls into just the right place at just the right time. The only hiccup we’ve ran into was you slipping yourself between the cracks but maybe that was fortunate for us – it remains to be seen.” He gave Alastor a hard look.

“If I get what I want from this, I’ll be as beneficial to your cause as I possibly can.” Alastor told him. “But, why are you choosing to do this? Weren’t you amiable toward Heaven; even after everything?”

Lucifer sighed. “Lilith has been with me through all of it…since the beginning. I’ve tried to make the amends to my mistakes; tried to make Heaven see that what we did…it wasn’t for the intentions that they thought. I’ve been fighting a losing battle for thousands upon thousands of years…Lilith stood by me; supported me all that time. Now, it’s time I stood by hers. We got nowhere with my plans and ideas for our future; so it’s time I supported hers.”

“How disgustingly devoted of you.” Alastor made a face and movement of his tongue; like he had actually tasted something terrible.

Lucifer laughed. “That’s just who we are. We depend and rely on each other.”

“So…she really has no issues with…this? What you and I are going to be doing?” Alastor asked him; wondering. “Call me ‘old fashioned’; but I’d hate to come between a man and his wife.”

“Lilith never would have agreed to it if she had reservations.” Lucifer told him. “She wasn’t lying when she told you that our relationship has been…unconventional, at times.”

“Hm…” Alastor remembered his wine and sipped from the glass.

“How long has it been for you anyway?” Lucifer asked him. “I’ll be coming out of a bit of dry spell myself; Lilith tends to get focused on other things when they’ve claimed her interest and I haven’t found much motivation in seeking out an outlet.”

“Years?” Alastor though. “Very nearly a decade, maybe.”

“Fuck.” Lucifer blurted. “You’ve got me beat then. You weren’t kidding when you said these mating cycles of yours were unpredictable.”

“Also part of the reason that I’m relying on you…specifically. I’m not sure just how…enthusiastic I might be.”

“So, how will I know that you are in rut?” Lucifer questioned him.

“Oh, don’t worry – my King.” Alastor fixed him with a sharp gaze. “You will know.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Scene inspired by: @applepartysins fanart/comic here

Chapter 5

[rebelliousstories]

Ten Thousand Candles

Kiss Me You Animal

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Zylia “The Freak” Shelley

Fandom: Fallout

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff, Strong Language, Mentions of Death and Killing

Word Count: 711

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

//Chapter Two//

Kiss Me You Animal Masterlist: Here

Summary: Cooper is not too sure if he is impressed or fed up with this new girl. Probably both.

Have you ever seen someone who just looks like if you say the wrong thing, no matter how small, they would hurt you and everyone in the immediate vicinity? That was Cooper Howard right now. He was tearing through the town faster than a bat out of hell, trailing after a girl. Why was he following this girl? Because just a few minutes ago they met, as she stole his bounty that she was now cashing in on.

Walking into town, he just caught the trail of the unearthly colored hair disappearing into the shop where the bounty originated. He gritted his teeth, and waited outside until she was to return. Cooper found a rocking chair, and waited. He was a patient man, and that was being put to the test as he sat there. Most people passed by him without so much as a glance, but others took one look at him and scurried away. It did not much matter to him anymore. He had two hundred years to come to terms with his new state.

Seeing her white hair come through the door, he took note and noticed her shoving something in her bag. He stood up slowly, marching his way up to her while she was distracted.

“Well, gotta say, sure as shit been a long time since someone stole my bounty from right under me.” Howard drawled, almost jovial in his speech. The woman’s head whipped up to see The Ghoul in front of her once more.

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so slow then, Ghoulie.” She teased, finding joy in annoying him.

“I wasn’t slow,” he growled, “you were just a sneaky little minx who can’t keep her sticky fingers away from what’s not hers.” Cooper stepped closer to the woman, assessing whether or not he needed to draw his gun. But she just laughed.

“That ain’t how I remember it.” The still unknown woman got even closer to Cooper, and toyed with the edge of his jacket. He snatched it away, and stepped away with a flourish.

“Now, only time Imma tell you. Give me the caps that you got paid for my bounty, and we’ll be on our way.” His hand rested on his pistol while the other was outstretched.

“And if I don’t give you my caps for my bounty?” She replied, brushing a hand through her hair nonchalantly.

“I’d hate to kill someone as pretty as you now darlin’.” Cooper smiled, and hoped she would do the right thing. As she stood there, contemplating, The Ghoul was steadily losing his patience. She came closer and closer to his outstretched gloved hand, until it was resting right against her stomach. Sifting through her bag, she placed a singular bottle cap in his hand and closed his fingers around it.

“For you troubles. Name’s Zylia, by the way. Next time don’t be so slow.” The now named woman patted Cooper on the shoulder, and began to walk away from him. However, he had different plans. Howard stood there with the cap in his hand, and a million thoughts running through his head. Pocketing the cap, he turned to where Zylia was walking away.

“Do you have a death wish?” He called, making her stop for a brief moment. Even from all this distance, the pink eyes she held pierced his very soul.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?” Zylia responded, toying with a strand of hair.

“Do you know who I am?” Cooper questioned again, fully turning his body to face her.

“No. Should I?” Once more, his patience was being tested. Cooper moved his duster out of the way and rested a hand on his pistol that was still holstered.

“Little girl, I’m really not in the mood for this. Give me the caps.” He repeated, fully ready for a shoot out.

“Little girl? Well, I might be little, but not young enough to be a girl. I’m just gonna be on my way if that’s alright with you, Ghoul.” Again, Zylia turned around and began to walk away from the man. He chuckled softly, before drawing his pistol and aiming it at the girl.

It all happened in a flash, but the sound was one that was an everyday occurrence in the Wastelands.

Bang!

[morgana-larkin]

I love angst for some reason, but can you write a Melissa x reader breakup fic? Where reader is in their mid 20’s and Melissa is obviously wayyy older than her. Melissa realized that they’re both heading in different paths in life and tries to gently breakup with reader, but calls her all the pet names like “kid/kiddo, young one, little bunny, etc” (this is taken from Taylor Swift’s ‘Illicit Affairs’ where she’s going “don’t call me kid, don’t call me baby, look at this godforsaken mess that you’ve made me…”)

Maybe a part two if you’re feeling up to it, with gentle smut as reader and Melissa get back together and make love again? 👀

Oh I’m definitely making a part two to this, I mean I can’t leave things with Melissa on a sad note. So I went with the nicknames hon and kid. I did ended listening to the Taylor Swift song and based some of the things off of the song. And I just gotta say that I procrastinated on doing this for 4 days straight as it hit too close to home. I called off my engagement 3 months ago to someone 15 years older than me because we were heading down different paths in life. Anyway, not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: still taking prompts peeps!

Don’t Call Me That

Warnings: Angst and no comfort, no happy ending, may break your heart like it did for me

Words: 2.25k

You and Melissa are cuddling on the couch watching real housewives. Melissa found out you’ve never seen it so of course she had to show you. The two of you have been together for about 8 months now and never been happier.

Well, you have never been happier. Melissa was happy, but she still has so much doubt on whether or not she should have gotten with someone so much younger than her. Especially when you made comments on what you want to do with your life.

“I hope to get married someday.” You said once. “Maybe we can have kids together.” You said another time. “We should go out to a bar or a club together sometime.” You said one time. Melissa just looked at you and smiled each time but didn’t reply. Those thoughts swirl around in Melissa’s head until one day she couldn’t ignore them, you both wanted different things and she couldn’t let this relationship go on even more.

“Hey hon, can we talk?” She says to you when she visits you at your place on Saturday.

“Alright, sure.” You said, none the wiser. You and Melissa go on your couch and you face her with a smile. Melissa wishes you weren’t smiling as it makes it harder knowing that she’ll be that reason for that smile to drop.

“I don’t think this is working out anymore.” She starts and you look at her confused.

“What do you mean?” You ask and you frown.

“I mean this.” She says and gestures between you both. “Our relationship, I think we should end it.”

“Why?” You ask, concerned.

“Because we want different things in life hon. I don’t want to get married again, I wanted kids before but not anymore, and I don’t want to go to clubs if I don’t have too. But you’re young, you should have things you want and you should do it.” She tells you and you look down at your lap. She really wants to comfort you but knows she can’t.

“So that’s it? We’re over, just like that? I have no say in this?” You ask her and she looks guilty.

“I’m afraid so hon.” She says and you snap you head up at her.

“Don’t call me that if you’re gonna break up with me.” You snap and that catches her off guard. She knows you might be upset but didn’t think you’d snap at her, but she doesn’t blame you.

“I’m sorry y/n.” She tells you.

“Please leave.” You say and she nods defeatedly. She gets up and walks to the door and opens it. Before she leaves, she glances at you.

“I really am sorry.” She says and leaves. As soon as she closes the door, you get up and lock it, then you put your back on the door and slide down while crying.

On Monday you walked in the doors of Abbott and went to the break room as usual. Only this time instead of saying hi to Melissa when you pass her, you just walked right by her to the fridge.

“Hi hon.” Melissa says to you.

“Don’t call me that.” You say as you put your lunch in the fridge. Everyone turns their attention to you and Melissa as they knew you were dating. “My name is y/n.” You say to her and go to make a coffee.

“I know what your name is.” She tells you as you pour the coffee into your mug.

“Then I suggest you use it.” You tell her and walk out.

Melissa sighs and leans back into her seat.

“Trouble in paradise?” Barb asks Melissa.

“If trouble you mean broken up then yes.” Melissa says and everyone gasps.

“Omg what happened?” Janine asks.

“None of youse businesses.” She tells them and walks out. Everyone turns to Barb for answers.

“Don’t look at me, the only thing I know is Melissa broke up with y/n if their emotions are anything to go by.” Barb tells them.

Melissa tries to talk to you for the rest of the day when she gets an opportunity but you keep shutting her down.

She keeps trying every day for 2 weeks until she had enough. She got Mr Johnson to watch over her class while she goes to talk to you during your prep period.

She knocks on your door and walks in after you call out a ‘come in’ to whoever was there. When you look up you see the person you least expected, mostly because she has a class right now.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be teaching?” You tell her as she closes your door.

“Mr Johnson is watching them until I get back. I need to talk to you hon.”

“I keep telling you not to call me that! And the last time we talked, you broke up with me so I don’t really want to talk to you.” You told her and she sighs. You get up and go to bring a stack of papers to the back of the classroom.

“I know but I’ve been trying to at least be friends with you like we were before we started dating because I like our friendship.” She tells you as she follows you to the back and you whip around to face her.

“Friends? You think I would want to be friends with you? Melissa, do I need to remind you that you broke up with me and didn’t even bother talking about it with me? You just made the decision on your own.” You grit out.

“It was the best decision.”

“For who exactly? Cause it sure wasn’t the best for me.” You tell her and she looks at you.

“It was for you. I made it for you so you can have the life you want. I can’t give you everything! So I let you go so you could! Believe me when I tell you that I didn’t want to break up with you! You are the best damn thing to happen to me and it broke me to let you go!” She tells you and you gasp.

“That’s the reason?!? You. Are. An. Idiot Schemmenti! Just because I may have thought about certain things doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. I’m 25 and I’m not certain about what I want to do in life.”

“See that right there is what I’m talking about. You have no idea what you want cause your life has just begun, while mine, well I’m 55, I’m going to retire in 10 years hopefully. My life is almost over.” She tells you frantically and at that Barb comes in.

“Girls, can you quiet down. It’s hard enough to teach 5 year olds how to read the alphabet as it is. It’s even harder with your yelling.” She tells you both and you look at Melissa.

“What I knew I wanted in life was you. But I guess I was wrong. You should get back to your class.” You tell her and you leave to go print something. “Sorry Barb.” You tell her as you pass her by.

Barb looks at Melissa who has a couple tears rolling down her cheeks. “Sweetheart, what were you trying to accomplish here?” She asks her and Melissa lets a sob escape.

“I was trying to be friends with her again.” She tells her.

“Melissa, you just broke up with her out of the blue. At least for her it was out of the blue. You have to give it time before she might consider being your friend again.” Barb tells her and Melissa nods.

“I know, I just, I miss her.”

“Listen I have to go back to my classroom and you have to go back to yours but how about you come to my classroom at lunch and we can talk then.” Barb suggests and Melissa wipes her tears away.

“Ok.” She says with a nod and then leaves back to her classroom.

2 months go by and Melissa has stopped any interaction with you. You still know she looks and stares at you but never talks to you.

Melissa can’t help it whenever she sees you, she never talks to you even though she wants to, she just stares at you. Her heart breaks every time she sees you.

10 weeks after she breaks up with you, your both in the break room along with everyone else. You’re talking to the trio and they ask about your weekend plans and you mention you have a date. Melissa whips her head up from looking at her phone and her jaw drops and eyes got watery.

You may not be able to see her face but you saw her whip her head up. You also see Barb looking at her sympathetically which means she must look sad right now.

You tell them your contemplating on whether or not you should go, you think you shouldn’t but Janine and Gregory tell you to go and Jacob tells you no. You go over to Barb for the tie breaker and you show her a picture of the girl, Melissa also sees the picture of her and she realises that you’re going out with someone around her age.

Barb tells you it’s your choice and that’s when Melissa pipes up. “Isn’t she too old for you kid?” She asks you while taking a bite of her pasta.

You glare at her and scoff. “I think that’s for me to decide, cause I do have a say in some things.” You tell her and she looks down guiltily.

On Monday morning you walk in the break room and the trio asks you how your date went.

“It was alright. We’re going out again this Saturday.” You tell them and you hear Melissa scoff. “Something you want to say Melissa?” You ask her and she turns around in her chair.

“It doesn’t seem you’re interested in her since you said it was alright.” She tells you.

“Well it was my first date with her and I haven’t had a first date in a year.” You say and she stands up, grabs her things and walks out. You turn back to the trio and continue the conversation. Barb follows Melissa out to make sure she’s not destroying anything or about too.

The next Monday you’re talking to the trio about your second date and you tell them that you’re not going to see her again as you’re not interested in her. You don’t see it but Melissa smiles. You don’t but Barb sure does and rolls her eyes at her.

It’s been 3 months since the break up now and you stop by quickly at Melissa’s to get a few things she recently found that’s yours. In reality, Melissa found them 3 months ago and hid them when you came to get your things so she would have a few reminders of yours but now she wants an excuse to talk to you.

The box of your things is on the coffee table and Melissa is sitting on the arm of the couch when you walk in. Melissa told you that she’ll leave the door unlocked for you.

“Are those the things?” You tell her and nod your head to the box and she nods at you.

“Ya, it is.” She tells you and you don’t really move, she sees you looking around. You usually went to her place about 3 times a week to hang out with her after school and she would make dinner for you two.

“How are you kid?” She asks you and you look at her.

“I thought I’ve told you to stop with the nicknames and use my actual name.”

“You have, but I like using nicknames for you.” Is all she says.

“Why?”

“Because I always have, I’ve rarely called you by your actual name. It feels wrong to call you by your actual name.”

“Well you might want to work on how to make it sound right.” You tell her and walk over to grab the box and she grabs your wrist and you gasp.

“You never answered me when I asked how you were.” She tells you.

“You really want to know how I am?” You ask and she nods. “I’m broken.” You told her and her eyes look upset. “You broke up with me and now I’m broken and a mess. I chose not to go on a third date because all I thought about on the two dates was you.” You tell her and she lets go of you but you make no attempt to move. You want to challenge her to something to see what she really thinks and you grab the back of her head and you kiss her. She’s stunned for a second but then she automatically kisses you back but then you pull back 3 seconds later and she looks at you shocked. “You can’t tell me that that doesn’t feel right. I may not know much about what I want in life but I know I wanted to spend it with you. I’m aware of the age gap but it never made a difference to me because I love you. I thought you loved me.” You tell her then you grab the box and leave.

As soon as you close the door, Melissa falls down on the couch and starts crying. “I’m so sorry y/n.” She sobs out. “I do still love you.”

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

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Let me know if you want to be added!

[haikyu-mp4]

Two jobs, part 2

word count; 1107 – set a few years after part 1, reader and Osamu are married and the three of you live together. I gave your son a name, Kazuo, to make writing easier

You were away on a business trip and left your two favourite guys to take care of each other for a few days. Luckily, you didn’t have to do this often, but you were relieved they got along so well that you could. Even though Kazuo grew attached to Osamu in a way before you two even started dating, it had been an adjustment for all of you after you got married and moved in together, especially because your son was at his most difficult age.

Currently, Kazuo sat on a bar chair by the island counter while Osamu made dinner. The two would often hang out in the kitchen together, because Kazuo liked spending time with Osamu when he had an excuse for it. He also found it hilarious when he asked his stepdad for help with his homework and Samu got frustrated because he didn’t understand it either. It was a peaceful connection they had, and you usually did your best to let them have their time in the kitchen to themselves even when you were home.

“Hey, look at this.” Osamu said to catch his attention. When Kazuo looked up, he did some weird juggling trick with the pepper shaker before adding the necessary seasoning to the soup he was making. Then he did the same with the salt to show it wasn’t a fluke. “Am I cool, or what?” It was meant as a joke, but there was a hopeful look in his eyes.

Kazuo made a face. “Uhh… yeah.” he said, which was an obvious lie, making Osamu deflate. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt particularly sensitive about it all of a sudden. Perhaps it had something to do with the difference of how Kazuo looked when he got to play volleyball with his twin compared to how he politely declined lately when Osamu asked him if they should do some passes in the garden.

“Do you not think I’m cool?” he asked after a long silence, leaning one hand on his hip while the other stirred the soup to make sure it didn’t stick to the bottom.

“Not like Tsumu.” Kazuo answered honestly without thinking about it, eyes on his homework so he didn’t notice his stepdad’s face scrunching up. If he thought he felt sensitive before, that one hit the spot for sure. “But it’s okay, being a chef is good too.” The boy honestly didn’t think adults cared so much about being cool.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t take pity on me now.” he said followed by a deep sigh. “Maybe I should cook you instead, you gremlin.” Kazuo just laughed, unknowing of Osamu’s bruised ego. When he turned back to his homework, Osamu pulled his phone out and opened messages, sending a simple ‘You’re ugly and stupid’ to Atsumu without context. That made him feel a little better, at least. You bet he’ll call you that night before bed for some reassurance. And to remind you that he loves you, of course.

Sometimes, Kazuo was allowed to go to parties in exchange for sharing his location at all times while he was away with whichever parental figure was home at the time. Usually, the parties were alright. Typical underage parties where someone had stolen a few beers from a parent and they all tasted it before looking disgusted and swearing to never drink it again. He would be picked up at the agreed time with a few complaints of how lame you were for setting those rules, and then he would tell you he loved you under his breath before going to bed.

However, they were growing older and that came with engaging in new topics of interest. That’s how Kazuo ended up in a game of seven minutes in heaven that he desperately wanted out of. It’s not like he could just tell them he might prefer guys over girls, he wasn’t even sure yet himself! It was all too much, so he snuck away and pulled out his phone with slightly shaky hands. You’re still on your business trip, and he was starting to miss you even though he would never tell you that. After all, you were the only one he relied on for the first 10 years of his life.

He pulled up his contacts on the old phone you had gifted him, scrolling past your contact until he got to a Miya. Even though he knew Atsumu liked spending time with him, he didn’t seem to have that much spare time anymore. Actually, he probably wouldn’t call Atsumu for an emergency anyways, he realised. Tsumu was more of a cool uncle, like he told Osamu in the kitchen the day before. Now that he was in trouble, he already knew who he had to call.

“Samu…” Kazuo said, voice cracking a little so he pretended to clear his throat.

“What’s up, buddy?” Osamu sounded tired, like he had taken a nap in that recliner he loved to occupy when you weren’t home. If you knew he snoozed off while your boy was at a party, you would not be happy, but at least he picked up the phone.

“Can you come pick me up?” he asked not too loudly, frowning at the floor. “I’m okay, I just want to go home.” He tried to sound tough and chill, but it didn’t fool Osamu.

“Sure, I’ll head out now. Go outside in about 15 minutes but not before. Actually, stay inside until I’m there.” Kazuo chuckled a bit at Osamu’s short ramble where he corrected himself, then he hummed in confirmation and hung up. So he told his friends he was feeling under the weather and went outside when Osamu came to pick him up.

Kazuo didn’t say much more than “Thanks for picking me up,” and “I don’t want to talk about it,” after getting in the car, and Osamu knew he would rather tell you about it than him, so he didn’t pry.

Instead, he clicked his tongue with a cheeky smile. “You know, the new Star Wars movie just came out for streaming. I won’t tell your mom we stayed up late if you don’t.”

And as he looked to the side where Kazuo fiddled with his hands in the passenger seat wearing a relieved smile, safe because he dared text him for help, Osamu decided that he didn’t need to be cool. He just had to be there.

Even so, his chest bloomed with pride when Kazuo came out of the bathroom after brushing his teeth for the night and told him, “Thanks for the movie, Samu. You are pretty cool.”

masterlist

taglist: @miyamizuna, @makkir0ll, @shiratorizawa-can-step-on-me, @sobbing-leave-me-alone-bots, @eeerreehhh, @f4iryk3i, @cosmiicdust, @malikazz243

[rainba]

Hello!

I really love your work!

I was wondering how the Yans would react if their Darling were to ask them out on a date?

I'm gonna assume this is also the first date between the yans and their darling-- so here's their reactions to both things. :3c

And also, thank you!!!!

Kairos’ jaw dropping, speechless, in total awe with hearts and stars in his eyes. You love him– you love him enough to ask him out on a date!!! He would be so happy that he’d be smiling from ear-to-ear, blushing like crazy, and stuttering on all of his words. (*≧ω≦*)

Every day leading up to the date, he wouldn’t be able to sleep for even a second. He just feels so excited as he thinks about your all’s upcoming date together and his heart begins to race– he grows so restless. Tossing and turning in bed, kicking his heavy blankets onto the floor and then yanking them back up two minutes later. Melatonin does nothing to help him. („• ֊ •„)

He can't help it as his thoughts spiral out of control. What should he wear? How should he act? What should he say? Should he practice good posture? What's good eating etiquette on a date? He has to make everything perfect–! He absolutely cannot disappoint you! Because if he messes up, you might never love him, and then you’ll inevitably try to leave him. (｡╯︵╰｡)

So… When he actually pulls up in his car for the date, he’ll have extremely dark bags under his eyes and will be nearly passing out at every second. ^^;;;;; Please excuse him if he sometimes falls over and genuinely sleeps for a few seconds...! He’s listening to you, he promises!

And, uh… He’d really try to pay for the both of you! You invited him out, you treated him kindly, so it’s the least he can do. But since he’s not exactly well off, he’d order something extremely small and cheap, then he’ll pay for your entire meal.

He’d also write a little “ˢᵒʳʳʸ” on the receipt to the server, simply because he can’t tip all that much. ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶

As for Luka, he’d also be a little bit shocked. He was fully expecting to be the one to ask you out first, but, hey… This is cool too! You already have some interest in him– which is great, as now he’s one step closer to possessing your heart. (っ˘ω˘ς )

For the first date, he’ll absolutely be paying for it all. Oh, and just to impress you further, he’ll be leaving the server a very generous tip. Luka makes sure to leave cash on the table rather than paying with card, just so that you can see him leave the money. ^^;;; Sigh.

And while it would be nice to take you back to his place on the first date, he’ll wait until the next one– unless it's you asking to go to his place. In that case, he’s happy to oblige.

...But he'd play games at first. He'll ask you if you really want to go back to his place, smirking a little bit as he makes you say what you want from him out loud. If you change your mind, he won't force anything. ( ´ ω ` )

Ultimately, he can’t refuse you anything on the first date- he wants to provide you everything that you want. He wants to show you just how amazing life can be if you simply promise to be his forever.~

(=`ω´=)

[reduxulousoctopus]

X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).

I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.

Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.

--

“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.

Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”

No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.

Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.

When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”

Morph winces.

“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”

“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”

From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”

“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”

“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”

“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”

The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”

“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”

To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.

Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.

Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.

How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?

Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.

“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.

He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.

“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”

Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.

“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”

Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”

“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”

That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.

“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”

Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.

“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”

The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.

“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”

Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”

“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”

“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.

“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”

“Who else knows?”

“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”

At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.

“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.

Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.

“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”

He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.

Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.

“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”

Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.

He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.

Badum-tch.

Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.

Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.

Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?

“Morph. Look at me.”

Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.

“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”

A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”

From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.

It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.

Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.

One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.

The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?

Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.

Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.

If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.

Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.

The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.

But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.

He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”

As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.

“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”

Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…

He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.

That’s real enough for him.