#torturing him. he doesn’t think himself Lucky to say the least. but if he held out hope for saejima while he was on death row for literally | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Choices.

A/N: Another Mob!Tom fic, a longer one. It’s another darker one and I hope you all enjoy! Do not engage if the topics make you uncomfortable 💕 (side note: I managed to get switch!Tom in there).

Summary: You become the product of someone’s torture and now you have to decide what you want.

Warnings: Smut (oral, f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it up, stay safe), Violence, blood, injuries, bruises, language, misogynistic views. Minors do not engage. I think I got everything, possibly a few typos.

W/C: 8K.

The sound of skin-on-skin contact resonated through the halls, the sting in your cheek burning as Caleb shook the sting from his own hand.

“What did he do with my shipment?” Caleb hissed as he crouched down so he was eye level with you.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, when he finds out what you’ve done, he’s gonna kill you.” You said, probably a stupid thing to say as it earned you yet another smack to your already bruised cheek.

“I’ll give you one thing, you’re tougher than you look. Shame you think you’re worth more to him, he’s known for the last twelve hours I’ve had you and he’s done nothing.” Caleb laughed as he stood to full height.

“Bullshit.” You hissed and Caleb laughed.

“Oh come on, you don’t think men like us put women above our businesses do you? More women like you will come along, more cunts to keep our cocks warm. Let’s be real, that’s really all you are and ever will be to him.” He laughed and you winced at the harshness, maybe he was right. He wasn’t here, wasn’t here to help you.

“Now,” he announced as he made his way over to a table, taking a hammer off it. “I’ve quite frankly grown bored. Tell me what he did with the shipment, tell me where it is.” He said, he was yet again in front of you. He’d taken your hand in his and if your wrist wasn’t roped down to the chair you’d have slapped him.

“You have quite dainty little fingers.” He said as he stroked over them. “Shame I’m going to have to break a few.” He said and you felt defeated, utterly defeated.

“I don’t know what he did.” You answered in a breathy whisper. “He doesn’t get me involved.” It wasn’t strictly a lie, you knew he’d stolen the shipment just not how.

“Given up? I would to, must be disappointing.” He laughed again as he crouched down to your level, stroking your sweaty hair out of your face, running a thumb harshly over the bruise on your cheek. “Maybe he hasn’t even noticed you’ve gone, that spot you occupy in his bed probably isn’t cold, already filled.” He taunted and you felt the tears fall.

“Just let me go. I can’t help you.” You said, your heart was broken. He knew you were here, and he’d done nothing. Maybe it was all bullshit, maybe he didn’t love you like he said he did.

“But we’re having so much fun.” He said as he stood up again. “I know you know something, you must, you sauntered around that mansion enough.”

“I don’t.” You said, completely defeated now.

“Tell you what, you can serve as a lesson, I’ll give you back to him. Since you can’t help and show him what happens to his stuff when he messes with mine.” He said and you succumbed to the tears.

Tom was panicking he’d not seen you all day, you’d gone out for lunch and now he couldn’t get a hold of you. His mind was racing, he’d sent all of his staff out to find you and no such luck, it was like you’d disappeared into thin air. He was pacing his office, running a hand through his hair when he heard it. Three loud knocks to his mansion’s door. He hastily made his way downstairs, Harrison in tow.

As soon as he opened the door, a body collided with his own. He only just caught it in time, the body almost limp in his arms. It took his brain a moment to catch up as he realised just who it was that had been thrust into chest.

“Caleb sends his regards.” A man laughed and Tom felt frozen. How had this happened? Not you, not his precious princess. Tom watched as the man disappeared, Harrison giving chase.

It was your small fist on your right hand that grasped his shirt that brought him back to reality, he picked you up, one arm around your back, the other in the crook of your knees as you winced in pain.

“I’m sorry princess.” He mumbled as he took in your features, you looked so tired, bruised cheek. Tom felt his anger rise, Caleb should count his days lucky because when Tom found him it would be the last day he spent on Earth. He took you into your shared room, placing you carefully on the bed as he took in the rest of you. The outfit you’d worn that day was dirty but still intact, your wrists were raw, evidence of the rope that had tied them down, the same with your ankles.

You had bruises almost everywhere, face tear stained. You were half awake, weak as you fluttered your eyes occasionally before closing them again. Tom sat with you on the bed for a while, thinking about his next move, of all the ways he was going to torture Caleb for doing this to you. He heard commotion downstairs and knew Harrison had caught whoever had brought you back to him.

Tom didn’t leave you, he knew Harrison would take over, bring the men back and make sure whoever he’d caught was dealt with until Tom could deal with it. Harrison was his right-hand man, one of his most trusted advisors. Tom looked down at you, moving stray strands of hair from your face, he almost cried at the sight.

He kept a hand on your chest, evidence you were alive. He brought his lips to your forehead as he kissed it, a tear making its way down his cheek. You didn’t deserve this, and he couldn’t protect you, he failed at the one thing he’d promised to himself. It wasn’t long before your eyes fluttered open to look at him.

You took in Tom as you opened your eyes, he looked tired, upset as he held a hand to your chest, hair a mess and those brown eyes had seemingly lost their usual spark. You looked at him, no energy to speak. He’d left you, didn’t come for you when you wanted him to, you briefly remember begging for him, pieces of the beating you’d taken coming back in flashes. You’d lost consciousness through parts, the pain too much.

“Hey Princess.” He breathed out, voice soft, quiet. It almost sounded like there was an ounce of care in there, but you must be delusional. You just looked at him and he sighed before disappearing. You didn’t really wonder where he’d gone, what he was doing, you were thinking about how to get yourself home, away from this and away from him.

It wasn’t long before he lifted you again, you were too tired to fight with him as he took you to the bathroom, stripped you of your clothes and put you into the bath. The first bath you had was to get rid of the dirt, Tom ever so carefully washing your body and hair, it almost had you fooled into thinking he cared. He’d fooled you for almost two years now though.

He almost cried again as he took in the bruising that was all over your body, he took your left hand into his own and you winced, almost crying out in pain. He studied your hand, as if in some sort of mocking he took in the bruising of your left finger, the one he intended to place a ring on. He could tell just by looking at it that it was broken. He whispered out an apology, he needed to call his personal doctor to come and see you.

He lifted you again, carefully, before running a second bath, placing you in there, probably hoping the hot water would relax your tired muscles. It was silent, the only sounds being your winces, Tom’s quiet apologies and his soft kisses to your skin. Tom was the first to properly break the silence.

“I’m so sorry princess.” He said softly and you wondered how this man, your Tom could have left you like that, left you to die for all he knew. You didn’t speak, too tired for an argument with him. He sighed as he sat with you, sitting on the edge of the bathtub as you got lost in your own thoughts.

Your gut was telling you it couldn’t be true, your Tom wouldn’t have left you like that, he’d have come for you if he’d known but your head was full of the things Caleb had said. Full of the doubt he’d put there, the doubt that Tom loved you at all, that he felt anything for you. You felt more tears slip down your cheek as you hastily and angrily tried to wipe them away.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, I’ve got you.” Tom said as he lowered himself to take you into his arms. Your good but wet hand fisting the dry fabric of his shirt as you cried into his shoulder. “You’re okay. I’m here.” He repeated as you cried for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I’m gonna take you to bed okay? I won’t leave you, not tonight.” But he already had hadn’t he? He’d left you with Caleb, maybe you were just a good fuck, and he couldn’t be bothered to find anyone else now that you were back.

He lifted you for the last time out of the bath, draining it as he stood you on your feet, wrapping a towel around your fragile frame. Rubbing his hands along your arms in an attempt to help you dry off. You didn’t fight him as he placed a shirt, his shirt, over your head, helping you get into bed. Everything about him was so soft in this moment, so gentle, it made it hard to believe what he’d done tonight or on the contrary, what he’d not done.

Tom’s doctor came and left, securing your finger, whatever he said to Tom was drowned out by your own thoughts. You tuned back in to hear the doctor say that your bruises were okay, you were going to be okay. But that was lie, you weren’t okay, far from it, not emotionally at least.

You fell asleep that night, hand fisted into his shirt, it was keeping you grounded, reminding you that you were here, with Tom, in his room, not back there. It was a reminder you weren’t dreaming. Tom held you until you fell asleep, coaxing your not broken fingered hand to interlace with his own, you knew you were probably grasping his hand too tight, but you needed to keep yourself anchored, stop yourself falling apart. You were tired and in no mood to fight and being here with Tom was a far better alternative than being back there with Caleb.

Tom was drifting into his own sleep when your scream jolted him awake, probably woke the whole mansion. Your body suddenly moving from his own as you became completely unsettled, face contorting in pain. Tom was quick to move as he tried to wake you, dodging your flailing arms, he took them in his hands, careful of your finger, pinning them above your head.

“Princess, it’s okay, it’s me. It’s Tom, it’s just me. You’re safe.” He repeated as he watched your eyes snap open and meet his, he was shocked to see the rage in them.

“Get off me.” You screamed at him, and he did, instantly, releasing you from his hold as he sat up, you sitting up onto your knees as you looked at him.

“Princess, it’s okay, calm down.” He reassured as he carefully went to take your hand in his, you slapped it away and stood up off the bed.

“Stay away from me, Tom. I want to go home.” You snapped and he stood from the bed as well. He heard a knock at the door, ignoring it.

“Baby, you are home.” Tom was utterly confused at your turn towards him, you looked so angry, so hurt with him and he couldn’t understand it. He’d spent all day looking for you, used every resource he had to try. He made his way towards you again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

He watched as you cried again, falling into his chest, you were tired, confused, that much he could tell. Like you were fighting an internal battle with yourself, one he knew nothing about, and it was frightening him, your sudden anger towards him setting him on edge. He heard a knock on his door again and bit back his anger, for your sake.

“Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it in the morning.” Tom snapped, hands moving to cover your ears as not to startle you. You suddenly moved, ripping yourself from his grip as you looked at him wildly.

“You left me.” You said and Tom looked confused, he felt confused.

“What, princess, I don’t know what you mean.” He said calmly.

“Bullshit. You left me and you know you did. Why is it you keep me around? A good fuck? The minute my life is in danger, you do nothing. You really had me fooled.” You ranted as you paced the room and Tom felt more confused than he ever had in his life. Left you? He would never, had he known where you were, he’d have come straight for you.

“I didn’t leave you princess, I promise. You know me, I love you. You know I’d do anything to make sure you’re safe.” He said as he carefully approached your figure, stopping your pacing and forcing you to look at him, tears streaming down your beautiful face again. You looked at him almost desperately, like you wanted to believe what he was saying but couldn’t.

“I, Tom. I can’t get these thoughts out of my head. I don’t want to believe that you left me, but you did. How do I know that what you’re saying isn’t bullshit?” You spoke, voice broken, and Tom almost cried again.

“If I’d have known where you were, I’d have come for you. You know me, Y/N, you know me.” He said sincerely.

“I want to believe you but I can’t. Caleb said-“

“Whatever he said was bullshit, baby, you know me. You know I’d move the world for you.” He said as he stroked your hair.

“I need to get away.” You spoke and you looked at him, you were begging him not to argue with you. “I need to think.” You said and it was so desperate that Tom couldn’t deny you, you needed it and he’d give it to you.

“Okay baby, I’ll let you go. Wherever you want, but tonight please just stay here and I’ll take you where you want to go tomorrow.” He pleaded and he watched you fight an internal battle with yourself, he knew what you were thinking. He knew you were thinking that if you spent the night in bed with him, you were scared you’d wake up tomorrow and all will be forgiven. Tom’s heart tore in two as he opened his mouth to speak.

“I’ll sleep next door. If you need anything that’s where I’ll be.” He said as he kissed your forehead and made his way out of the room.

It was 5 o clock in the morning when the door opened in one of his spare rooms, a body colliding with his own as it clung to him. He didn’t fight you when you climbed on top of him, wrapping yourself in him. His heart hammered in his chest, he was conflicted, you’d just asked, begged, for space and here you were making sure there wasn’t an inch of it.

You were on top of him, trying to pull his arms closer around you and he didn’t fight, not when he heard the small sigh leave your lips. He was careful not to hurt you as he placed his arms around your trembling figure on top of him.

“I just, I can’t. I need to feel safe.” You cracked voice reached his ears. He was conflicted, he knew this would have you feeling differently in the morning, but he couldn’t forget the pleading look in your eyes when you told him you needed space. He’d let you have this, give you what you needed tonight but tomorrow he had to let you go. As much as it would rip his heart out he had to let you go.

He held you, carefully as your breathing evened out in the crook of his neck. He was used to you wanting his touch but never like this, not this much. It was almost like you wanted to get inside him, wrap yourself completely in him, like you couldn’t get close enough. He did his best, did his best to make you feel covered and only when he heard your soft snores did he know that he’d been successful at making you feel safe.

“I love you so much.” He said as he held you and let his own tears fall.

He woke up and felt no weight on top of him, you’d moved. He thought you’d be downstairs and was shocked to see you sat cross legged on the bed next to him.

“I’m sorry about last night.” You said.

“You’re sorry?” He asked, what?

“I just, I couldn’t sleep without you.” You clarified and he nodded as he studied you carefully. He knew what was about to come, knew he needed to be a better man than he’d ever been in his life, for you. “I was thinking,” you started as you cleared your throat, although it did nothing for the croakiness of it. “Maybe we should talk.” You offered and his heart shattered, last night you were scared of it happening and it had.

He sat up as he rubbed his hands down his face, collecting himself because this was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He just couldn’t forget that begging in your eyes. The way you pleaded with him to let you go and in his mind this was the right thing to do. Be the man you’d begged him to be last night.

“You’re mind was pretty made-up last night.” He grumbled and he didn’t miss the way your eyes melted at his morning voice.

“I’ve had a chance to sleep.” You ran your uninjured hand through your hair as you shrugged.

“Y/N,” He hated using your name, he hardly ever used it but pet names? Not right now. “With me.” He continued and you furrowed your brows.

“So?” You huffed back.

“You begged me to let you leave last night.”

“I’ve changed my mind, I can’t sleep without you.” You said.

“Don’t do this to yourself, last night you wanted, no needed to leave, you told me so.”

“I was confused. Tommy,” that fucking nickname. “We can talk it out and I can stay here.” You were making this hard.

“I can’t. Y/N, you need let me do the right thing here, the right thing for you.”

“So you just want to leave me again?” You huffed out, anger rising on your ever beautiful features.

“Again? I told you last night that’s not what happened.” His voice still soft. “You need to clear your head and you and I both know you won’t do that when I’m here.” He reasoned, he knew you had to find a way to process this, and he knew what would happen if he let you stay.

He’d done his own thinking last night and he knew if he let you stay, if you allowed yourself to just get wrapped up in him instead of process what had happened to you and the cause of it, the cause being his lifestyle. He couldn’t do that to you, he needed to let you think even if that meant letting you go forever. He was ripping his heart out here and the look on your face was stomping it hard into the floor.

“But I don’t understand.” You whispered as you let a tear fall, Tom was quick to move and wipe it away, you caught his hand and brought it between your own.

“You will, you need to process this, need to think about what you really want. If you weren’t with me this never would have happened.” He said and you let out a choked sob, you knew he was right.

He’d moved you into a flat, well Harrison had moved your things in, Tom knew if he did it he’d become selfish and let you come home. Tom made sure it was secure, bought it in your name so you wouldn’t be attached forever if you decided to leave, it would be yours. He kept it safe but he stayed away, you’d been gone a week when you first called and out of instinct he answered.

“Tommy?” You sniffled down the line and he knew a nightmare had just woken you up.

“Y/N, this isn’t a good idea.” He warned softly.

“I know, I didn’t call you any of the other nights, but I just need to sleep.” You said and he sighed, running a hand over his face.

“What do you need?” He asked and he hoped you wouldn’t say what he thought you were going to, that would make it harder on both of you.

“Can you, I know you won’t come here and I can’t come there, can you just talk to me? Please?” You asked in a whisper and Tom couldn’t refuse.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He asked and he heard you sigh down the line.

“I don’t know, just anything.” You said and he heard you shuffle around presumably to get more comfortable.

That was the first of many phone calls, the two of them indulging themselves late at night when neither could sleep. Tom never called you, you always called him. He was becoming conflicted, he probably shouldn’t be doing this but he was too selfish.

“Tom?” You said and he knew that voice, already feeling blood rush downstairs. It’d been a while since he’d had any sort of relief.

“Y/N/N.” Tom groaned and he heard you giggle slightly, in that seductive way that could get him going at the most inconvenient times and you knew it. Yeah you were definitely horny and this wasn’t a call to help you sleep.

“Tom, I need you.” You panted down the phone at him and he threw his head back into his pillow.

“Y/N, no.” Tom said, firm tone and he heard you shuffle around and hoped to god you weren’t gonna start doing what he knew you were probably thinking. If he heard you moan that would be it, he’d drive over and he couldn’t let that happen.

“Come on, Tom don’t be a killjoy. You always want me.” You said and he heard you shuffle again.

“This isn’t a good idea.” He said, cursing himself for growing hard.

“Come on Tom, we’ve done it before.” You said and then he heard it, your little whimper that meant you’d probably touched your clit.

“Y/N.” He said firmly. He couldn’t let this escalate as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. He heard you huff. “Please don’t.” He said.

“You don’t want to hear me take care of myself?” You tried again, a moan slipping down the phone.

“No.” Yes.

“Fine.” He heard you huff in defeat.

“We need to stop these phone calls, they’re not doing you any good.” He spoke, voice firmer than he thought it would be to say his dick was currently straining in his boxers.

“I don’t want to, I won’t, I’m sorry.” You stumbled over yourself.

“It’s not just about calling me for phone sex, it’s all of it, it’s not a good idea.” He said, he’d never gone soft as fast in his life, the atmosphere had changed massively. “Y/N/N,” he sighed. “I want you to stop calling me, until your head is clear I want you to stop calling me.” He said, voice soft and he heard your sharp intake of breath.

“Okay.” He heard you say after a while before you hung up.

That was two months ago, he knew you were okay, of course he did but he had had zero contact with you. You were slowly processing what had happened to you, thinking about what you wanted. No matter how many times you thought to yourself that Tom’s lifestyle wasn’t the reason you’d been practically tortured a bruise would remind you that if you weren’t with him it wouldn’t have happened.

It wasn’t until you went to bed that you realised how much you wanted him even if it wasn’t a good idea. He made you happier than anyone ever had, he cared, fuck did he care. He always wanted the best for you, you wanted to be angry at him for doing what he did but you couldn’t. Every time you took a branch of that anger it led you back to the same trunk, the same reason, he’d done it for you, been the better man for you.

Tom was a selfish man everyone knew that, if he wanted something it was his but with you? He couldn’t, he never had been. It made you realise that Caleb was wrong, he had to be, Tom hadn’t behaved like a man who used you to keep his dick wet. There was no way he could have faked that for so long. He was always faithful, not like half the men that rivalled him, he just wouldn’t do that to you.

You love him, that much is clear to you, the way he makes you feel and looks after you is something you know you’ll never have again and ultimately it’s what made your decision. Although you knew that what happened before could potentially happen again, you found yourself unable to care, Tom was it for you. You had to follow your heart, it couldn’t take the pain of being away from him but it didn’t mean you’d turn as much of a blind eye anymore.

You knew who the man was, who you wanted to be with, you wouldn’t be the naive girlfriend anymore, the one who pretended none of it happened. You had to take some responsibility yourself, toughen up, if you were going to be with him, you needed to toughen up and wake the fuck up. Realise how dangerous his world can be and if you were going to make yourself a part of that then you had to make some changes.

As long as you could have him the way you loved him behind closed doors then it was a risk you were willing to take. You couldn’t stop yourself as you brought up the contact you’d not used in two months.

In the two months since Tom had asked you to stop calling him he’d still not managed to find Caleb. Every lead was a dead end. He missed you. Missed everything about you, he took solace in the fact that he knew you were safe and probably healing. He found himself wishing you would call and he’d gotten so drunk one night that Harrison had had to take his phone from his hand to stop him calling you.

He lost hope daily that you were going to call him, that you were going to show up and realised you’d probably done the smart thing and decided not to have anything to do with him. It hurt him, truly it did but was he to do? Make you stay? He knew if he’d let you stay another couple of nights in his bed then you’d just consume yourself with him and not think about what you wanted.

His phone made him jump when it rang, he wasn’t used to this anymore, wasn’t used to seeing your contact pop up, not over the last two months. He almost declined the call until he thought about why you might be calling, you’d made no attempt to contact him in all this time, maybe you were ready to talk, maybe you’d cleared your head. His thumb swiped at the green button as he put it to his ear.

“Can you come over?” That was all he got, no explanation, nothing.

His fist banged on the door, you knew it was him, you knew immediately. You knew him like the back of your hand. You opened it and couldn’t help the small gasp that left your lips, was he trying to drive you insane? Those dress pants, white shirt tucked into his pants, rolled up sleeves? Fuck, he always looked like he was formed by the gods themselves.

“Hi darling.” He spoke and you couldn’t stop yourself as you threw yourself at him, hugging him tight. It was nice to feel him hug you back, be back in those arms that did nothing but make you feel safe, at home.

“Hi.” You whispered as you pulled back and pulled him into your flat, he was yet to see it.

“Why the late-night call?” He asked.

“I wanted to see you.” You shrugged, licking your lips that had become dry just from looking at him. “I miss you.” You spoke honestly.

“I miss you too.” He said back so easily, no time to think about the words.

The atmosphere in the room felt thick, thick with tension, the last time you’d spoken to him you’d wanted him to help get yourself off and you grew aroused at the thought. Your fingers just didn’t quite cut it, nor did the vibrator. Nothing would feel as good as having Tom wedged between your legs as he fucked into you.

He looked at you like he was thinking the same thing, he’d always said his hand wasn’t as satisfying as your wet heat. You grew hotter the more you thought about it, the more you thought about him getting himself off to the memories of the two of you fucking, just like you’d been doing. He watched your every move ever so carefully, your bruising was now all healed, finger free from its bandages.

You looked like you again but you had a shine to you that Tom liked, you looked happier, almost healthier. Like you’d been properly taking care of yourself and he smiled, it was good too see you happy after his last memory of you. He cleared his throat after a moment and spoke.

“Do you want to talk?”

“Not right now.” You answered as you approached him. “I did, but I don’t, not right now.” You rambled out as your mind became clouded with lust, it’d been so long since you’d had him, you’d not had anyone else, why would you? They wouldn’t give it to you like Tom would.

“Is this a good idea?” He asked quietly as he studied you, you didn’t say anything as you leant up to kiss him, tenderly, far more tender than you’d initially thought you were going to. You both sighed at the contact, you wanted him. He studied you for a moment, looking for a sign of regret and when he didn’t find it he captured your lips again.

This time a little more forcefully, but not by much. You kissed tenderly, carefully, almost like you were remembering each other, basking in the way one another felt against them again. You pushed your lips more forcefully against his and he groaned slightly as your hands weaved into his hair. It was still careful, neither wanting to overwhelm the other.

His hands found a firm place on your waist as he pulled you closer to him, lips growing slowly firmer until Tom’s tongue was tracing your bottom lip and you granted him access. You both moaned in pleasure as your tongues found each other’s after so long, neither of you forgetting how they almost danced together. The sound of your lips finally uniting being the only sound in the quiet flat.

It wasn’t long before Tom had picked you up, carefully, and your legs were wrapped around his waist as he carried you down the hallway and into your bedroom. Your kiss had grown much heavier along the way, your arousal for each other settling in properly as the only emotion left was lust, need for each other. You untucked his shirt as he carried you, hand trailing up his toned back.

His hand was carefully squeezing your waist, grabbing a handful of your arse every so often. You felt him harden against you and you knew he knew how wet you’d be for him when he took your shirts off. He kicked your bedroom door open and when he turned to shut it he pinned you against it.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you.” He was the first to say as he placed kisses along your throat, your hand fisting in the back of his hair.

“Feels like it.” You spoke as you felt his hardened length again.

“Like you’re gonna be any better.” He teased and as if to prove his point he ran a hand up your thigh and into your shorts, running his finger through your folds. “So wet.” He hummed.

He moved you and placed you on the bed, something digging into your back as he did. You moved your hand around until you found whatever it was and when you pulled it out you heard Tom mutter a ‘fuck.’

“Not quite the same but it took the edge off.” You said as you threw it down the side of your bed.

“Thinking about me?” Tom asked as he pulled your shirt over your head. “Did you touch yourself? Thinking about how well I fuck you with my fingers, tongue, cock?” He asked as he took in your braless and now topless figure. He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Always.” You panted when he brought his mouth over your hardened nipple. He hummed in response and it sent vibrations through your entire being. It ignited you in a way it always had, in a way only he could.

“That’s fucking hot.” Tom said as he popped your nipple from his mouth and as you attempted to undo the buttons on his shirt. You grew frustrated when they wouldn’t play ball and sat up, Tom moving with you, he looked at you confused for a second before you quite literally grasped the middle of his buttons and ripped it off, buttons flying everywhere.

“Fuck me.” Tom said, never had he seen you so needy for him, so desperate. It was doing things to him he couldn’t explain, he didn’t have much time to think as you latched your mouth onto his neck and sucked. You knew exactly where his sweet spot was, not hesitating to suck, you moved his now open shirt off his shoulders and it dropped to the floor. It wasn’t until you pulled back, eyes darker, completely consumed by lust that he realised what you’d done.

“Have you just left a mark?” Tom asked, almost astonished, it turned him on to no end. You just shrugged as you laid back on the bed, looking up at him and he swears he lost his dominant side for second. Completely in awe of you.

“Oh baby,” he didn’t miss your breath hitch at the nickname as he regained himself and crawled back on top of you. His own lips found the top of your breast, sucking his own mark onto it. “It’s cute, watching you try and take dominance from me, but we both know who’s in charge, don’t we darling.” He asked as he sat back to look at his handy work. He’d kicked his shoes off by now as he laid on top of you.

“Tom, please.” You begged and he chuckled, completely consumed by desire, the pair of you were by this point. His cock was throbbing for you and he knew you’d be clenching and unclenching around nothing, around the idea of him being inside you.

“What does my princess want? My fingers?” He asked as he made quick work of your shorts, placing a finger inside you that had you rolling your head back and moaning in pleasure. His kisses trailing down your body as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. “My tongue?” He asked as he placed it carefully on your clit. Teasing you by halting all movements, watching you squirm as you tried to create friction. “Tell me baby.” He spoke before oh so slowly dragging his down your folds to meet his fingers and dragging it back up. You sat up to look at him between your legs, god the look on your face was something of pure pleasure in itself.

“All of it, Tom, I just want you.” You panted out and he chuckled as he moved his finger, carefully sliding in and out of you, mindful that it’d been a while and while he knew your own fingers had been inside you, your fingers were smaller than his.

“I suppose it’s been a while. Should fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, the way you’ve missed.” He said and before you could respond his tongue was back on your clit as he sucked and licked at it, watching, and groaning as you threw your head back, body arching off the bed as one hand fisted his hair and the other your bedsheets.

It wasn’t long before you were squirming beneath him as he added a second finger, opening you up for him, your body shaking as you neared your first mind blowing orgasm in almost three months. He could have blown his load just from watching you as you arched off the bed, screamed his name and tightened so well around his fingers as you came. Panting, body shaking as he helped you through it.

He expected you to be all fucked out when he climbed back on top of you, what he was not expecting was for your still just as lust blown and wild eyes looking into his own. You took him by surprise when you pushed him onto his back before climbing on top of him. You didn’t ride him often and when you did, it was never with so much confidence. It was like he’d awakened something primal in you and he fucking loved it.

You made light work of his pants and boxers, straddling him as you confidently took his cock into your hand and placed him inside you. He couldn’t stop the moan that left his lips at the feeling and also the sight. This was not what he was expecting as you placed your hands on his chest and moved your hips of your own accord.

You’d never been shy in bed, not when it came to being beneath him but every time he’d relinquish control and let you be on top you’d ask for his guidance. Not tonight, tonight you were using his cock to get yourself off and he loved it, loved the way it made him feel. He moaned as he gripped your hips, you’d taken control, he hadn’t given it and fuck if it made him almost finish inside you right there.

You moaned as you moved your hips, feeling every inch of him as the angle had him brushing that spot you’d not felt stimulated in a while and it made you almost scream his name as you fucked him. You wee both moaning, sweating and you expected Tom to take control back but he didn’t, he let you have all the control.

“So much for we both know who’s in charge Tommy.” You moaned and you expected a cocky response but none came, just a moan of your name. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You said as you felt your high approach, felt as you tightened around him and it only served to make you moved faster. Tom became something of a moaning mess underneath you, something you’d never seen before and that urged you on as you chased both of your highs.

“Just like that baby.” He said and your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt your orgasm fast approach. “Shit, Y/N/N, I’m gonna come.” Tom moaned and you don’t know what came over you, a feeling of pure power maybe, but you’re glad that it did.

“Come for me Tom.” You whispered, voice laced in lust and command as you placed your lips to his ear, leaning back to watch as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he moaned uncontrollably, moaning profanities laced with your name. You’d never seen him like this, you felt powerful above him, the ever so powerful Tom Holland reduced to a moaning mess because of you. It urged you to finish chasing your high as you fucked him through his. You collapsed onto his chest, with an almost scream of his name as you felt euphoria wash over you.

“Fuck.” Was all Tom had to say when he came down from possibly one of the most explosive orgasms he’d ever had. He loved being in control he really did, but watching you like that? You could have the control whenever you wanted it.

“Yeah.” You mumbled against his chest as tiredness washed over you. He flipped you over whilst staying inside of you, carefully drawing himself out as he cleaned you both up. Whilst he was busy doing that it gave you time to realise just how much power you had over him. He could have easily taken back the control, shown you who was in charge and he didn’t not even when you practically dared him to.

He came back into the bed as he massaged your thighs that were now aching slightly. You shivered as he did, body feeling sensitive all over after your orgasms. You played with his curls as he rested his head on your stomach.

“Where did that come from?” He asked, amused tone.

“I don’t know.” You said honestly, you didn’t, maybe it was the fact that you’d not been able to have him for three months. Maybe it was the desire to hold power over him, even if just in bed, you weren’t sure but he’d woken something in you that you liked.

“I’m gonna have to let you take charge more often.” He laughed as he continued to massage your thighs, your hands still in his hair.

“How come you didn’t take it back? The control?” You had to ask.

“Didn’t want it, not then. Fuck, you looked you so hot. It did something to me, watching you use me to get yourself off, taking your own pleasure like that, fuck.” He said as he kissed your stomach.

“I hope this doesn’t mean you’ll be a sub now, I’ll miss you railing me into whatever surface we find ourselves on.” You laughed and he joined.

“No, but you can have the control, whenever you want it.” He spoke and it sounded so honest that your heart soared. Tom Holland did not give control to anybody, it wasn’t his style yet here he was telling you could have it whenever you wanted it. That’s how much he loved you, how much you were different to everyone else in his life. It solidified your decision.

“I want to come home.”

You’d worked things out between the two of you, a week’s worth of late nights and talking. You’d told him you wanted to be more involved, you didn’t want to shy away anymore, Tom was hesitant but agreed. You asked him to train you, make sure you could a least attempt to defend yourself, although that wasn’t going so well, every time he was teaching you one of you got distracted and you usually ended up underneath him.

Tom liked the change in you, you were tougher, more confident and he wondered what had brought the change. You were still the same woman he fell in love with, the same woman who was kind thoughtful and free but now? Now you weren’t afraid to speak your mind, you commanded a level of respect from his men now and he loved it. He loved everything about you and you him.

It was a month later when you both heard the commotion downstairs, you jolted up. Tom had only had to wake you from a couple of nightmares, they were seemingly leaving you, slowly but surely. Tom placed a hand on your arm, sitting up, your eyes frantically looked for his and calmed when they locked.

Tom got dressed as he made his way downstairs, he was shocked to see Harrison carrying the very man he’d spent just over four months looking for. He was struggling against Harrison but to no avail, Haz had a firm grip around the man’s arms.

“Found him, hiding out in some club.” Harrison spat as he threw the man down at Tom’s feet. He spat blood onto the tiled floor of the mansions entrance.

“Tom! How’d you like your girl? Sent her back nice and pretty for you.” Caleb said, laughing as he did. Tom felt his anger rise again, images of what he’d done to you filling his mind. Tom wasted no time in kicking him in the gut.

“Take him into the living room and tie him up, I’ll be back in a minute.” Tom said, he was going to say goodnight to you, this was going to take him a while. He huffed as he made his way into the bedroom and shit the door.

“What happened?” You asked as you rushed over to him.

“Haz found Caleb.” Tom said and he watched as panic flashed in your eyes for a moment before they found Tom’s.

“What are you going to do?” You asked, voice steady.

“Better question is probably what I won’t do.” Tom said as he took you into his embrace. He held you for a moment and kissed your head. You thought for a moment, this man had been your tormenter, the man who’d taunted you, made you feel heartbroken. This was the last part of getting over what happened to you. “I’m gonna be a while, so I came to say goodnight.” He whispered as he kissed your head.

“I want to come.” You spoke before you could stop yourself.

“What?” Tom asked, voice faltering.

“I want to watch you kill him Tom.” You spoke more confidently as you moved away from him.

“Absolutely not.” Tom said, sure he was willing to let you know about everything in his business, but seeing him deal with someone? No.

“Tom,” you said as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I need this, I need to see him die. I’ll know it’s over then.” You whispered.

“Sweetheart, you don’t, I know you think you do but you don’t. You’re not gonna wanna see what I’m gonna do to him.” He said firmly.

“Tom, please?” You begged as you looked at him and you knew he was fighting an internal battle within himself. “If it gets too much, I’ll leave, I promise. I won’t think of you any differently, Tom I know you’d never hurt me.” You said, hoping to win him over.

“It’s not for the faint-hearted love. It’s not like in films, this is real life and what you’ll see, what you’ll watch happen it’ll change you. Make you more like me, darken you.” Tom said and you looked at him with all the confidence in world. This was the life you wanted, the life you’d chosen and you didn’t hold a single regret.

“Good.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #mob!Tom #tom holland angst #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Since people actually liked it here's the continuation of the modern Xiao camgirl!darling post I cut from the original, as promised, most if it's under a cut. Here’s the original post. I didn’t think people would actually like the camgirl concept so I thought I was rambling too much and cut this part out lol but here it is now!

Tws: derogatory language/female slurs, mentions of reader being a cheater, reader is promiscuous, murder, incel-y mentality (our modern boy would be a 4chan user, look me in the eye and tell me I'm wrong) and mentions of upsetting realistic things, this one's darker than the first part. If you're bothered by other modern stuff for being too realistic best avoid this too probably, involuntary pornography ---------- Coming up on one year since you gained your most loyal subscriber, you get a rather... Unsettling request. He has something he would like this month, in fact, he adds a few hundred to the regular amount (he's been saving up just for this) and asks for just the answer to one simple question. What's your name?

Your real name, he clarifies. He doesn't need a last name, nothing like that. It would just... Make him feel closer to you. He avoids using the term "anniversary," even though that's what comes to mind. He also doesn't tell you that he already knows, that this is just a test of your honesty. For someone who's so cautious, you would think you would think to give a fake name whenever you go to coffee shops for them to yell out, or change it on the packages you get. You hesitate. And it would be easy to give him a fake one, yet, you don't really think about it too much, you kinda think about that as an afterthought, what you should have done, but your very real name is typed out and sent before you really process it, and you feel a sort of unease, but it's already sent. No big deal. He can't do much with just your first name, right? If your name is common, you feel pretty safe, but even if it's a rarer one, surely there are other people with it, right? He's happy though. Kinda surprised, really, that you didn't lie to him. Maybe you trust him?

You're not stupid, you know something is wrong, you're becoming paranoid. And you connect the weird feeling to him, bc he goes radio silence for several days leading up to finally taking you. This dude who used to respond to any messages you sent within 10 seconds suddenly... It's like he disappeared? He hasn't responded to anything you send him ever since you said your name. You send him messages saying you haven't heard from him in a while and you're worried... The way you word it makes it sound like you're worried about him, but you both know that's not what you really mean. You're hesitant and suspicious of every guy you meet. You buy pepper spray and start carrying some around, you nearly spray a poor guy who you thought was trailing you, turns out he just lives in your building. He makes note of it. He watched you buy it, and is quick to realize you always hold it in the same hand. That must be your dominant hand, that's an important mental note for the future, since you're more likely to try to attack him with that hand. He'll remember. He has a note in his phone with information like that. Height, weight, birthday, social security number, parents' names, school she graduated from. All in little bullet points. He adds dominant hand to the list. He's not worried at all really. Already watched you struggle to carry packages he could lift with one hand, your strength doesn't cross his mind as a threat. At first he just doesn't know what to say, and that's why he stops responding, he feels too awkward but... He starts to enjoy the weird feeling of power the whole situation is giving him. You're worried, you're constantly paranoid, and it's because of him. Now you finally understand the same feeling you inflict on him, how you consume his thoughts every waking moment of every day. It used to irritate him that you held so much power over him, while he meant nothing to you. Now, the tables have turned. You're forced to have him constantly in your mind, whether you like it or not, just like you are in his. It's giving you what you deserve. It gives him a feeling of significance. He matters, even if it's not in a good way. And he keeps telling himself that once he's all you have, he'll matter even more. He's smart enough to realize that if you're paranoid, you might have mentioned him by username to someone else, so to ensure he knows what to do from this point, he has to sneak into your apartment at night as you sleep. It's so unbearably tempting, you have no idea -- you're right there and so vulnerable. He has to hold himself back because he knows that if he so much as touched you, he couldn't hold back. But it's torture, standing there so close, watching your chest rise and fall as he fiddles with the phone. Even when he unlocks it with your thumb, he tries to hold the phone from an angle to do so, even if the skin of his hand grazes yours, it would be too much. You have a lot of contacts across your messages and a bunch of different apps. You have one guy in your online chat you've exchanged far more messages with than anyone else! Hundreds upon hundreds of messages, and huge paypal cash drops, who the hell is -- oh, wait, that's him. Nevermind. But, to his pleasant surprise, he's the only one of your... customers that you regularly talk to, the rest just have a few paypal notifications or clarifications on your policies, but no actual conversations like you have with him. Of course, that's literally part of your deal, he's literally paying for it, but it makes him happy nonetheless. But as he goes through your personal messages, he finds that you are... in no shortage of options. Like, holy shit. It was kind of expected. You *are* really pretty, that's how you have so many followers after all, but this is a lot. So many contacts named some variation of "DO NOT ANSWER!!!" or "creepy guy that forced me to give him my number at the club", etc etc. Plenty of unsaved numbers texting you to never get a response. You've ghosted enough dudes to make your place haunted. It's... kinda awful, really. It also kinda hurts his heart a bit more than he expected. You have so, so, so many options, even without the cam thing, he's more insignificant than he even realized. ...Well, for now, at least. He'll be significant to you soon enough. And then you seem to have a sort of "boyfriend of the month" deal going on, aside from that. Plenty of male-name contacts whose last exchange is a "don't talk to me again!" message from you, plenty of messages corresponding to the same time as those to your girl friends about how you can't find a good guy and every relationship ends badly. How unfortunate. See, it's because you choose bad guys. You probably go for dicks and not.... well, he can't exactly pull the "nice guys like me" mentality, he doesn't delude himself into thinking he is one. He's lucid enough to realize that most nice guys would not be sneaking into your house and standing over your sleeping body to stalk your phone as they make plans to kidnap you. He knows he would probably fall under the classification of a creepy guy. He's just too far gone to care. Still, he would be so much better to you, he tells himself, not a cheater or a player like you complain about. To say he resents those kinds of guys -- ones that can do the unthinkable and actually talk to girls, let alone successfully, only to be assholes, and yet girls like you still go for them -- is an understatement. You're basically just a slut, you probably ignore all the guys that would be nice to you, just like all those internet forums he reads talk about. Typical.

Well, those forums also make fun of guys like him who pay for girls like you, but he can't blame them. It *is* kinda pathetic. There is one dude you talk to, though, now. Current boyfriend of the month, from the looks of it. You have a little heart emoji next to the name. He knows it's kinda pathetic that something so simple and insignificant sets him off, but it does, makes him pout and grind his teeth and curl his other hand into a fist. It's so unfair. Some dude you barely know gets to fuck you, and you haven't even known him nearly as long as you've known him! He doubts this dude -- hell, any of your boyfriends -- has put in the same amount of money that he has into you. They fuck you practically for free. And that, unfortunately for you, only solidifies his decision. If you're fucking some dude for a month because they buy you dinner every now and then, if we're going by that scale, then you owe him quite a good deal of pussy. Any hesitancy or guilt he had about the whole thing is gone. And he's a little mad. Keeps grumbling to himself that you're just a loose whore, fucking so many people and putting yourself out there on the internet. He wonders if they even know about what you do. Probably not, you probably don't tell them. Yeah, that sounds like what you'd do. Really, you're kinda lucky that someone like him is so willing to commit to you, since you are a slut. You don't deserve it, but he loves you anyway. And you'll probably have the nerve to be ungrateful for it too. Sigh. On the bright side, by some miracle, it would appear that you have not told any real-life people about him, you haven't sent out any hey if I disappear you should probably look into this creep type of messages. But he can't afford to have you doing so in between now and when you move in with him, so, he decides he has to act within the next 24 hours. While he's here, though, he decides to do a quick sweep of your place. Makes note of what snacks and drinks you like, what brand of toothpaste and shampoo and the like you use, so he can buy some for you. Maybe you'll adjust better if you have some of your favorite things. And then, after days of silence, he sends you a message, says it's fine, his internet went out for a few days. He means it to reassure you, but somehow it makes you feel more uneasy. He has everything planned out, or so he thinks. But you deviate from your usual schedule. When you leave work or class, you don't go home, you go somewhere else, first. How strange. Maybe picking up groceries? He follows from a distance. No, looks like you're going out to eat...? Maybe you're meeting friends or family or -- no that's a guy. Fuck. You must have planned this just earlier today, since there were no messages on your phone. It makes a bitter feeling rise in his gut. He hates that he can't get close enough to listen to your conversation. Well, he hates the whole thing, sits there and seethes the whole time. Watches you through the windows in the parking lot, thankfully you chose to sit outside. Feels his eye twitch and his hand clench every time you smile and laugh. It takes way too long. The fact that you split the bill feels like a punch to the stomach too. Shouldn't you be used to taking guys' money? Oh, and what's this...? This guy isn't the picture on boyfriend-of-the-month's contact. Well, well, well. You really are a whore. See, it's a very good thing he's taking you off the market. You're probably a reckless heartbreaker too. He's doing all the other men of the world a favor by taking on such a burden as you. And it makes him feel far more justified in keeping you locked away, since he has every reason to believe, now, that you'd run off and fuck someone else if given the chance. Halfway through, the guy briefly gets up and runs to the bathroom or something. While he's gone, he sees your face fall a bit. And then he sees you look around. You turn your head from one side to the other. Your eyes scan the area. You shuffle uncomfortably and you bite your lip and your eyebrows furrow. You're scared. You feel like -- no, you know you're being watched and it scares you. That makes him a little happy, for some reason. He wouldn't be sure what to do if you went home with the guy, but thankfully you don't. No big deal, this was just a bump in the road, he still beats you back to your building and he still goes through with the original plan. Even better, now that it's even darker outside. If anything, now he's got extra aggression and testosterone in his blood, running over the events in his head and going through some... very forceful and violent fantasies. The message he sent had you uneasy, and it's also how you immediately know what's going on when it does finally happen. You keep telling yourself you're being unnecessarily paranoid, that it's nothing, maybe that guy actually got his life together or got a girlfriend or something. Things like... What you fear, don't happen in real life, that's stuff that only happens in movies and stuff. You keep calling it that or it in your head. That won't happen to you. It's not going to happen. The series of events that play out in your head, scenarios you try to push out of your mind. Sure, in the movies it always takes place in the stairwell, but that's fiction, so you go up the apartment stairwell as always. You're not gonna let a bunch of B-grade old films scare you. And it's always some dude standing and waiting, but that nice young boy that you've never seen before is just leaning against the wall, scrolling on his phone, he only glances up for a second as you pass by, he's not a threat, you're being paranoid. You flash a smile and a little wave as you walk by, he doesn't return either, just looks back down at his phone. See? This guy doesn't even care, you're being paranoid for nothing, you tell yourself. But as you make the turn to go up the next set of stairs you hear the click of a phone being put on the lockscreen, a few metallic footsteps ringing out in the open hall and echoing, coming up right behind you, but for that split second you expect a tap on the shoulder, maybe he has a question, it's not like movies, it's not like movies, you're not gonna get a cloth shoved over your face and--- Well, it's not exactly like the movies. You were prepared, but it all happens in one motion - one hand grabs the hand with the spray and twists it, making you drop it, the other wraps some material over your mouth. You were prepared enough that you don't gasp in surprise, you hold your breath and thrash, but it doesn't make any difference, you wiggle and writhe for a few moments but can't even begin to break free, eventually succumb to the lack of oxygen and take a deep breath. It takes a few seconds to settle in, it's not so immediate. You instinctively panic and thrash again, but he has a complete iron grip. The dizziness takes a second to set in. He huffs a bit in frustration and says stop moving, it's fine. It's definitely not, but it occurs to you that that's not something a kidnapper looking for any potential vulnerable girl says. It's a poor attempt at comfort. It's someone specifically looking for you. And if that wasn't enough, he says your name. Your very real name. Maybe it was a mistake to tell him after all. But the worst part of it all is that there's not a single doubt in your mind, even in your panic you have the realization, it's definitely him and this is literally exactly what you were afraid of. And it's the last thing that goes through your head. And once he's got you out cold he just takes a sigh of relief. He may have been very neutral faced to you, but in reality he was incredibly nervous. He hasn't exactly made or used chloroform before, our boy is operating on YouTube tutorials here. He's got adrenaline pumping through his veins and carries you with his arms trembling. He's on autopilot carrying you out, but his mind is also consumed by holy fuck I'm touching her she smells so nice she's so warm her face is so close I'm actually touching her-- you get the idea. He feels bad about taping your hands and feet together and putting you in the trunk of his car, kinda. It feels too much like what a really bad person would do to a girl they didn't care about, like he's a trafficker or a murderer or a criminal or something, but that's not true at all. Sure, he's still mad at you for being a whore and all that, but it feels improper, he just has no choice. It's late at night, but he can't risk getting pulled or being at a stoplight and someone seeing an unconscious girl in his backseat, so, trunk it is. But once he's home, to his tiny little downtown apartment (he'll probably be able to move into a better place soon, since he's not paying you tons of money anymore), he takes a quick check to make sure the coast is clear, and drags you out, up the stairs, all the way into his apartment, sets you down on the bed, where you'll be staying. He even washed the sheets and cleaned the place up a bit for your arrival. You probably would not like to see what this place looked like before the five trash bags worth of cleaning was done. He'll probably be more motivated in the future, though, since now he won't be so depressed all the time. And then the adrenaline of the fear of being seen is over, and that's when it sets in that this is real. It's very, very hard to hold back. You're real, in the flesh, he can reach out and touch you with his hands! It feels like a dream. And he realizes he can take this opportunity to do things he would be far, far too embarrassed to do when you're awake. He takes a few minutes to do just that, cautiously reaches out to poke your face, and then run a hand down your neck, your skin is so soft! Your hair smells so nice, he lays down beside you and runs his fingers over it. Puts hands on your body and just lays there in awe of the fact that you're real. He's pretty certain he's never actually touched a human female before now. Everything about you feels soft. Weirdly feminine, which is something very foreign and confusing to him. And he kinda uh... Loses it. Goes buckwild with just taking in every aspect of you. Again, since you're unconscious he can be gross and entirely shameless about it. Peels your clothes off and runs his hands and mouth over every inch of flesh, takes the tape off your lips and presses his tongue into your limp mouth until he's forced to let go to breathe, fingers you and tonguefucks you and sucks on your nipples and your neck. Lays pressed against you and just breathes in your scent. It takes every ounce of self control he has not to fuck you already. But he does jerk off a few times. That way he'll last longer, so it's a win-win. And then... you twitch. Tape goes back over your mouth. And then, you twitch again. And this time, you make a little "mm!" under the tape, you start trembling and he sees you try to pull your hands apart. You whimper. It sounds scared and distressed. He feels kinda bad, but it also makes him hard, and that outweighs any guilt by far. Besides, it's what you deserve after what you did earlier. You tortured him mentally, it's only fair. On the good side of things, you suppose, you don't have to worry about the usual fears one would have over such a situation - you're fairly certain he's not going to kill you, nor sell you. In fact, the bed you wake up on is pretty soft. You're naked and the tape is uncomfortable, but... At least he was considerate enough to give you a blanket. He does care about you, after all. First thing he says is asking if you're awake. Can you hear me? You hesitate a moment, and then you nod. He's a bit new to this whole abduction thing. He wants to make sure he didn't pull a muscle or something with the tape. So... Do you hurt anywhere? Does your head hurt? Oh, right, the tape. He's not stupid either. You have to promise you're not going to scream. In fact, he's angry enough about earlier that he gets a bit meaner than he originally told himself he'd be. If you scream, I'll make you regret it. Understand? You nod, so he takes it off, holding it close in preparation in case you were lying, but you don't actually answer him, you're silent again for a minute, then just ask a question of your own. You're that guy, right? He's silent for a few seconds, there's no need for any clarification. Finally just says yeah. You just breathe again. Silently. Finally you summon the courage to ask him what he wants with you. And why are you doing this to me? And his answer is fairly simple. What do you think? You don't say anything for a minute, and neither does he. He's not good with words, and you don't really have ones for this situation. It occurs to you that offering to pay him to let you go is probably not the solution. After all, this is the guy that's dumped unimaginable amounts of money onto you, you couldn't even come close to paying him back. You figure maybe, after he gets what he wants... well, you get the courage to ask. Is there anything... that I can do o-or... anything that will make you... are you gonna let me go, after you....? And the answer is, again, simple, but the one you did not want to hear. No. He's a blunt boy, so he doesn't beat around the bush, but he doesn't torment you by keeping anything from you. In fact, he's already rehearsed this speech a few hundred times in his head. He just wanted to make sure he's very clear so there's no misunderstanding, and while he likes some discomfort in a vengeful sort of way, he doesn't want you to be too freaked out to where you have a panic attack. He says he's just going to... keep you here. He has the things you'll need. He got your purse with your keys, so he'll even run to your apartment after this to go get some of your stuff. You don't need to tell him which number, he adds, he already knows which apartment you're in. He needs you here, he says. And he makes sure to add that it's your fault. If you were never out there selling yourself in the first place, this never would have happened. If you're good, he can make things a bit better for you. But you need to go ahead and accept that you're going to be staying and that no amount of begging or offers is going to convince him to let you go. He can be nice to you, he promises. A better boyfriend than the others. You just have to be a good girlfriend -- you know, obedient and sweet and do what he says. Just like you always were when you talked to him. Just keep being sweet like that and doing the things he tells you to do. You would argue that the terms boyfriend and girlfriend are not appropriate descriptors of the sort of relationship he's creating, but you keep that thought to yourself. Instead, you ask, How long are you going to keep me here? Which is a dumb question, since he's pretty sure he already made that clear. Forever. -----

There's a double homicide in the area. Takes place on the same night, and the same diameter of knife is used, so police believe maybe the two incidents are connected. Especially because they do have something in common, one girl. She was romantically involved with both of them. The girl in question's apartment has been vacated, very suddenly, and the girl has disappeared without a trace, taking things with her from the looks of it, so police believe she may be responsible, but other than that, they have no leads. A few weeks later, a video circulates all over the internet. Some famous camgirl finally started making porn, apparently. Just one video, but the description (which was totally written by her, it has to be since it's written in first person right?) says something about how she decided to quit camming, so this video marks the end of her career. She got into a relationship, so she says in the description, so she has to quit. It's roleplay porn, apparently, she's doing a good job at the acting. All tied up and gagged and getting fucked by some big-dicked guy holding the camera. He's silent, but she's making a ton of noise, cums several times. Really good acting, the fear and desperation in her eyes looks so real. Talk about going out with a bang. It gets a lot of likes. Tons of comments about how sad people are she's quitting. And of course, a lot of comments say, what a lucky guy.

#.camgirl

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

No regrets

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Sukuna x reader (reader is referred to with gender neutral pronouns, but there are slight implications of them being AFAB)

Author note: At a whooping 11.5k words, it’s finally here! Thank you all for your patience as well as those who gave feedback during the initial interest check! I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this long piece! A bit of forewarning, this piece is rather dark, so please read the content warnings carefully and only proceed if you are comfortable doing so.

Revisions made on 3/30/2021

Minors do not read/interact with this post!

Heian era

It was only a matter of time before the king of curses came to your village and slaughtered you all. It was inevitable, but the village elders were determined to hand over every last scrap of fabric and goods if it satiated the cursed being for a short while, knowing the all powerful curse was an indulgent one. Your village was a well known trading settlement, so gathering and setting aside the best of the best on the market was rather easy with all the merchants coming in and out of the town nearly every day.

Your family specialized in sword crafting, often forging or repairing swords for soldiers or aristocratic families who merely collected them as works of art. Your father taught you a bit of the craft and a few seasoned samurai humoured you and taught you some forms while they awaited repairs, but you mostly spent time helping your mother around your quaint home. Your days with them were peaceful, even with the ever looming and expected arrival of Ryomen Sukuna blanketing your people with constant fear.

The day finally came, yet all the preparations you and your people took to secure a better chance of survival still didn’t feel like it was enough as the four-armed monster of a man easily destroyed several houses with a mere flick of his hand and cut down several innocent individuals who fled last minute due to their anxiety getting the better of them. He was at least willing to see all that was being offered to him when it was made clear your people were not going down without trying their luck, but that sadistic smile of his was all the proof everyone needed to know that their careful efforts meant nothing.

Your village elders remained determined, and to the shock of you and your parents, they grabbed you and offered you up as one final offering. You were young, the youngest in the village in fact, and unmarried too. A perfect candidate for Sukuna’s harem and they knew this when they turned and grabbed you without a second thought. You still remember the way your mother began to smack your elders with her shoe when they yanked you away from her and your father’s side. Bless her heart.

Perhaps a part of you knew that your status as the youngest would be taken advantage of if things weren’t working out. Sukuna’s harem was only a rumor, scary gossip whispered amongst the housewives. Yet the idea of a monster like him having a harem didn’t seem so farfetched. You knew better than to question the validity of the lucky few who got away and were displaced because of Sukuna’s village razing and massacring.

Whether he accepted the last second addition to the offer pile or killed every single one of you right then and there, you accepted that your life would never return to how it once was before he came. You didn’t make so much as a peep of discomfort when the brute began to manhandle you, pulling back parts of your clothes away from your body to inspect you in front of the entire village, in front of your distraught parents. You didn’t wince in pain when he roughly grabbed your cheek between two of his meaty fingers and examined your face like you were merely a piece of art, an object. You just went completely numb.

Everyone, including yourself, was shocked when he agreed to take you along with all the goods your village offered, but not without ordering them to prepare another pile for his followers to collect every following month from now on. He made it clear that if they held back a single grain of rice or gave him anything else but the best, he’d send your body back to them in a bloody sack before reuniting them with you in the afterlife shortly after.

As the king of curses hauled you away like a sack of potatoes, your emotions came flooding back in. You kicked, scream, cried and begged like a moody toddler for your mom and dad to help you, to not let this monster take you away and do know who knows what to you. The last you see of them before you’re forcefully knocked out is your mother suddenly collapsing on the ground like all the energy she had just left her body instantaneously. Your brawny father seemed equally at a loss as well.

When you were brought back to Sukuna’s temple, you were hauled away by servants after he unceremoniously dropped you on the ground and retreated to his chambers. You were thoroughly bathed, skin rubbed raw of outside filth and dressed into a fresh new robe before being whisked away to Sukuna’s quarters by his demand.

That first week under his roof was meant to break you, but for some reason you kept fighting back because of something a bit stupid. You wanted to keep your old clothes the maids forced you out of and you wouldn’t shut up or keep still under him no matter how much he harmed or degraded you. You don’t know why you kept pushing back against him over something so meager. The fabric wasn’t anything that fancy. The color was faded and you were even beginning to outgrow them. It’s the only memento you have of your home, so maybe that’s why your mind zeroed in on it and refused to yield to his torturous ministrations until you made certain it wouldn’t be taken away from you.

“Again with those rags you call a kimono?” he clicked his tongue with annoyance. “You want to keep them so badly? Fine, but don’t think I’ll be so accommodating next time.”

Living in a merchant town, you know how to tell when someone is trying to swindle you. As much as you hate the man who has been violating your body for literal days now, you can tell that he means what he has stated.

When you finally relax your body, he lets out a disgustingly child-like cackle, but before you can express any sort of rage that bubbled up within yourself, your mind goes numb once more if only to alleviate the pain you’re in just a bit.

There are two types of fates for those in Sukuna’s harem. There are the favoured concubines, who live relatively better than the disfavoured, who are made into servants. Of course, this is all a meticulous set up by the king of curses himself. Those he shows higher favoritism towards are desperate to remain in his good graces if only to make their way of living that bit easier to bear. Those he turns into lowly servants and brushes aside are desperate to rise above their rank and gain the privilege and spoils he grants to the selected few. It’s all an elaborate plan to instill discord between members of his harem so he can sit back and watch them tear each other apart without lifting a finger.

Your fighting back was what earned you an automatic spot amongst his favoured. He thought he had broken you, but just as soon as you yielded to him you flared up and began to fight back once more. It was invigorating, seeing the rage and desperation in your eyes when you were quiet and had a distant, blank look just moments before. How long had it been since a human raised their fist against him? Far too long for him to remember.

You were an outlier. Where all would refuse to meet his gaze whenever he passed through, you would always meet and hold his gaze without fail or hesitation. You talked back, cursing him a thousand ways into the next phase of the moon. You never bowed when others did. Never.

Your disobedience gave him plenty of reasons to drag you to his chambers and attempt to break you once more, only for you to shut your mind down as soon as you were thrown into his bed. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism? A way of trying to disassociate from all the rough treatment you endure under him? A part of him is grateful you aren’t like the others, that you’ve come up with a way of protecting yourself while the others around you, who give into the despair and hopelessness he brings them or lie to themselves that he holds some sort of affection towards them, if only to find some sort of hope through this hell even if it means lying to yourself. Both of which bore him immensely as well as annoy him greatly.

It’s sudden and neither of you can recall when it began, but after he was done having his way with you and you regained your sense of reality and would devolve into the usual episode of flailing rage and crying, he began to hold you against him and whisper soothing phrases like “good job” or “It’s over, you did well”. He kept his many arms wrapped around your shaking figure, waiting for you to eventually exhaust yourself and pass out before doing so himself. When the sun rises you are always gone from his chambers. How you manage to escape right from under him is a mystery, but he doesn’t have much of a desire to ask you about it. He likes waking up surprised. Hardly anything surprises him anymore.

It becomes clear to everyone that Sukuna acts differently towards you, treats you differently than the rest of his concubines. There are even periods of time where the rest of his harem is given little to no attention because he’s completely focused on you. The time he spends with you isn’t anything kind or relieving. He purposely says things that offend you and have you screaming at him. Should anyone else say what you say to him in return, he’d rip their tongues out and swallow it before their very eyes without any remorse. But you? He’s smiling down at you, as if you were an actor entertaining him with an elaborate and well-rehearsed performance.

“Damn you! Damn this temple! Damn your ancestors for existing and bringing you into this world!”

“Yes, that’s the spirit!” he gives you a toothy grin, his sharp canines glinting under the light of the sun. “Damn me and damn the rest of the world for that matter!”

His encouragement only infuriates you more. Without a second thought you began to throw whatever it is you can get your hands on at him. Your comb, your shoes, your untouched makeup products, anything in sight is hauled at the deranged man who dodges everything with ease. Just as you throw a jar of ink at his head and it shatters against the way, bathing the wood with dark ink, he grabs you and you both tumble back into your unmade futon.

As usual, you thrash and voice your disdain as he presses his lips against your neck and aggressively undresses you. He’s high off the adrenaline from earlier, making his ministrations much more excruciating than they normally are.

To him, it feels like a passionate session of lovemaking and he’s left light headed when he finishes.

For you, it’s just another day under his reign and body, your mind going numb as soon as he puts you on your hands and knees.

Just as quickly as he gave you most of his attention, he turned away and left you in the dust.

You have been his concubine for over a year when it happens. Your village continues to uphold their end of their deal and provide him with all the luxurious goods they can get their hands on each month. You’re not sure if he’s trying to torture you more or genuinely thinks he’s bringing you some sense of comfort and calm, but he personally brings you a small bunch of fabrics and trinkets that your father specifically went out of his way to get for you, hoping you would receive them somehow as a reminder that he still thinks of you. It’s during these small moments of Sukuna passing on these items that you learn that your mother passed after you were taken.

You didn’t shed even one tear when this information was given to you, as a part of you knew that was the case after you saw her collapse. Sukuna expected you to fly into another fit of rage. That was the only reason he told you if he’s being honest. He’s caught between feeling disappointed or worried when you just hummed in acknowledgement as you rolled up the soft, intricate rolls of fabric and stored them away. You never did anything with them, so they were sure to collect a layer of dust like the rest in due time

No one, not even Sukuna or even yourself, expected your village to take up arms and fight back against the followers he sent out to collect his offerings. When word came back of what transpired, Sukuna was tempted to take you with him and force you to watch as he slaughtered your village in retaliation for breaking the accord. He didn’t, nor did he send back your disfigured corpse like he promised he would back then. He simply went out, killed them, and then came right back to wash off all their spilled blood. All within the same day.

After he killed all the villagers, he attempted to locate your father amongst the scattered corpses, but they were too mutilated and disfigured to discern who was who. Even if they weren’t, it’s not like he remembered what your father looked like. Did you even bear any resemblance to him? He overheard you speaking with one of the other concubines that your father was an armorer and was tempted to grab one of the expertly crafted swords the villagers were carrying and bring it back to you, blood and all staining the scabbard. He decided against it.

He’s demoted many concubines, all with the purpose of watching them try to regain the meager luxury and privilege they grew accustomed to. He did the same for you, eager to see you break character and come crawling back to him with pitiful desperation.

A part of him knew that it wouldn’t take much effort on your part to have him changing his mind. He’d easily forgive you for the betrayal of your village. All you had to do was put on a show and give him the entertainment he wanted from you. You can kick and scream and deny him all you want, but he’s broken many people like you before. He’s had you under his spell since day one.

Except, you didn’t do anything. When he sent you to live within the overcrowded servants chambers near the far end of his temple, you never put up any sort of fight or caused a scene. Not even when he gave away all the fabrics your father sent you to the other favoured concubines, going as far as to force them to wear the garments whenever and wherever your presence is at. He waited with giddy for someone to inform him of how you lashed out at another girl and attempted to rip the cloth off of her body because they were wearing the fabrics meant for you. But there was nothing from you.

When he dragged you to his quarter and began to violate you like normal, he forced himself to brag and even fabricate details of the day he slaughtered the people from your village. He even lied about how your father asked about you before he was killed, falsely stating that the man had a smile on his face when Sukuna told him that you received all the goods he selected just for you.

Like always, your mind went blank until he finished. There were no twisted words of comfort afterwards like before. He simply ordered you out once he was done, one final attempt to invoke something out of you. You merely redressed and left in silence. He nearly got up and dragged you back, but once again, he decided against it.

One day he ordered a few men to build a crude looking home out back, detached from the main temple, and have you moved in it upon completion. If his normal efforts won’t elicit the usual reaction out of you, then he’ll take a different approach. He’ll deprive you of everything, social interaction, decent and consistent meals, and a stable shelter. He’ll have you isolated for a short while, after which he will visit you out of pity and revel in the sight of you crawling back into his arms. If the time he forces you alone is not enough to break you, he’ll simply extend your stay until you either give him what he wants or die because of your own stubbornness.

It hasn’t even been a day since you’ve been moved from the servant's chamber to your new quarters, and already he’s come to visit you. Within the same breath that tells you that your only other option besides begging for his forgiveness is to rot away in this poorly made shack, he gives you one final chance to change his mind, to beg him to take you back into his good graces.

The tatami is poorly crafted and discolored. The rafters used to construct the frame of the house already show signs of rotting and water damage. Before he allowed himself in, the tiles on the roof appeared to be hastily made and were not properly laid out. It was lightly raining outside, yet you already have a wooden bucket set up to collect leaking water.

“Can I help you?” you ask without glancing over your shoulder. He smirks at the thought of you knowing who he is by presence alone.

“No,” he smugly answers. “But maybe I can help you?”

You look back over to him with a mean glare. “You’re the one that put me here in the first place.”

“No, I didn’t,” he shakes his head to further cement his point. “You’re in here because your people thought they stood a chance against me and broke our agreement. Killing you would be an act of mercy to them. So long as I keep you alive and slowly torture you in both mind and body, they will never know peace.”

“You’re lying,” you say with certainty, with no fear. “I’ve never lied to you once. I would appreciate it if I can at least be given the same courtesy in return.”

He hates when people demand things from. Most importantly, he hates that you’re right. Your neck is always so small within his grasp, his fingers able to meet and fold over one another without strain. He keeps you suspended in the air just enough to where you can balance yourself on the balls of your feet. Whether you were tall or short, it mattered not. He always towered over you like the predator that he is.

“You want to know why you’re in this shitty home?” he sneers down. “You’re in here because you’ve begun to bore me. You amused me so much before, but the moment you started depriving me of my source of entertainment on purpose is the moment I decide to deprive you of your basic needs in return. I take what I want, when I want it, in whichever quantity I desire.

“You want out of here?” He makes a sweeping gesture around the room. “Then you better press your forehead all the way to the floor and beg for me to take you back. I’ll even tell you the exact words you need to say. ‘Please Sukuna-sama. Please allow me the privilege of sleeping under the same roof as you. Please let me breathe the same air as you.’”

He lets you go and grins when you prostrate after regaining your breathe.

“Please Sukuna-sama,” you beg.

“Please what?” he mocks. “Use your words.”

He feels a vein pop out on his forehead when you dare to look up and look at him with yet another angry grin. Without an ounce of hesitation, you say, “Please get out and leave me be.”

He nearly breaks the door from how hard he slams it shut. He abruptly turns around when he hears a roof tile fall over and splat into the muddy dirt. Those followers of his really built you a shitty home, exactly like he ordered them to do.

He feels the urge to gather them and wring their necks one by one, but he doesn’t know why.

Sukuna can’t sleep during those weeks apart. Not because of you, but because right as he drifts off into slumber he’s abruptly woken up by an intense source of cursed energy flaring up out of nowhere. But just as quickly as he feels it and wakes with a startle, it vanishes without a trace. He’ll go out onto his balcony and try to locate where the energy is coming from, but for some reason he can never pinpoint it despite his superior senses. He tries to suppress his own energy in the hopes of tricking the source into thinking he’s asleep and unsuspecting, but it would seem that they’re smart enough not to fall for the bait.

He doesn’t need sleep in the first place, so he’s tempted to just stay up and catch whoever is trying to scare him red handed and be done with them. The idea of someone getting the upper hand at him and forcing him into a position of defensiveness doesn’t sit well with him, so he decides to just let the unknown person have their fun for now and continue this little back and forth with them. Eventually they’ll grow cocky and slip up and he’ll confront them when it happens.

Because your little shack is located near the back of the temple, completely out of sight from Sukuna’s view from his balcony, Neither he nor the others notice the plumes of smoke that rise during the dead of night. No one also takes notice of the bits of metal that go missing throughout the temple.

The rise of the next full moon indicates the end of the month. Sukuna sends for someone to go retrieve you, but they never return and he’s left waiting long enough for the moon to reach its highest peak in the sky. When he orders someone else into his quarters he’s met with more silence that only further enrages him.

Just as he’s about to call for Uraume to figure out what the hell was wrong with his servants, he feels it. The cursed energy that he’s been trying to catch off guard the last few weeks. It’s willingly making itself known, practically begging him to follow its trail and meet with him. Just as quickly as he is able to identify and figure out which direction it’s originating, he notices that it strangely leads him in the direction of your poorly built home.

It’s impossible that it’s you. Cursed energy is born from negative emotions. He’s sure you still have an abundance of negative feelings towards him. Yet never did he feel even a speck of cursed energy resonate off of you. His mind immediately wonders if the individual knows of his strange obsession over you and is using you as bait. It’s foolish on their part, thinking the king of curses would yield for a mere human.

His pace quickens despite his internal dismissal, failing to notice that everyone is hiding and waiting in anticipation.

When he discovers that the cursed energy is indeed from you, he can’t help but to laugh like a crazed hyena. The sword by your side further amuses him and he’s genuinely curious as to how you got the proper materials to craft it.

“It took a bit of convincing,” you willingly answer his question. “I made everyone believe I could stand a chance against you and they gave me all the materials and tools I needed and looked the other way. I guess watching all those traveling merchants try to hype up their goods came in handy after all,” you look out in the distance as you briefly reminisce on the bygone days of your former life.

He begins to slowly clap with one pair of hands, the other crossed over his chest in amusement. “This is by far the most entertaining performance I’ve ever witnessed. Bravo. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I’d gladly accept the compliment, except this isn’t a show,” you stand to your full height and get a better grip of the hilt of your sword. “It’s the real deal.”

He erupts into yet another cacophony of wild laughter. “Do you seriously think you can kill me?”

“No,” you answer, truly throwing him off guard by the way he goes still so suddenly. “But that’s alright. I’m fine with never being strong enough to put a permanent end to you. Only one of us will be walking away from this fight, and I assure you that it’s going to be me.”

You draw your blade out and get into a low, defensive stance. Even under the lackluster light of the moon, he can see how well crafted your weapon is. He’s reminded of the craftsmanship the weapons your people carried when he slaughtered them, no better than a bunch of wooden sticks against him either way. Immediately, he regrets not bringing back one of their weapons and forcing you to expose to him your knowledge of swordsmanship and blacksmithing. Perhaps then he could have had you brandishing your blade under his command rather than against him.

Oh well, it’s better this way. It’s just as exhilarating and head swirling as those instances where you damned him with all of your being and threw things at his head. No, it’s more than exhilarating. It’s downright intoxicating seeing you readying yourself for his first move. How sweet of you to allow him the honor to make the first strike.

“You truly are something else entirely, beloved,” he dreamily sighs. “Did you honestly think you’d have the upperhand against me just because I gave you a little bit more of my attention?”

“Never,” you reply. You press your eyelids shut for a moment, and the moment you open them up the layer of dissociative numbness vanishes into a look of total focus and emotions he cannot discern. “But whether I live or die, I have no regrets about tonight.”

You really didn’t have enough strength to kill him. However, you did have enough to dismember all twenty of his fingers and seal him away. For the first time in years, the sun rises and bestows its warmth to a world in which two-faced Sukuna does not instill fear upon humanity or stain the earth in their blood. You and those who were under his servitude walk out of his temple as free people, hopeful people. As an act of gratitude for becoming their savior, nineteen others take one of Sukuna’s fingers each and swear to scatter them as far as they can so he cannot be brought back into the world.

As for yourself, you set out to rebuild your destroyed village and take up your father’s legacy as a maker of swords. Eventually you meet and settle down with a loving partner and raise children together. You pass on the family trade, your self developed cursed technique, as well as the memories of your time as Sukuna’s concubine. Those who come after you continue to carry on your will, to ensure that Sukuna can never be reborn into the world. Your sword and the old robes you kept after you were taken away are passed down as family heirlooms, but they are never used by any of your descendants.

That is until the year 2018, when Sukuna is resurrected within a compatible vessel.

Modern era

You bear not only a striking resemblance to your ancestor, but many of their memories as well. The family sword that was used against the king of curses is bestowed upon you, now dubbed the next in line to claim the title of clan leader, their preserved kimono now fashioned into a sageo that wraps around the scabbard.

Your family stays out of most affairs within the jujutsu world, but your birth and the strong connection to your ancestor eventually reaches the ears of many prominent figures within this hidden society. They think your birth a bad omen, a sign that the king of curses may return to the world one day. Most are scared, but your family pays them no attention. Even if the damnable curse did find a way to revive into the world, you and most of your family members who have inherited your ancestor’s technique will oppose him just as they did a thousand years ago.

“You don’t look too concerned,” Gojo makes his observation known to you as soon as the two of you settle in the small private room you ushered him to when he came to your family estate. He wanted to confirm the news of Sukuna’s resurrection to you himself. “None of you do, actually.”

“We all knew this day would come,” you calmly tell him as you poured him a cup of tea. “This is the risk our ancestor took when they developed their technique. In exchange for the strength and ability to seal Sukuna away, they willingly gave up the ability to deliver him a fatal and final blow against him.”

“I’m not well-versed when it comes to binding vows and heavenly restrictions,” he takes a moment of pause to sip his now cooled tea, visibly showing his disdain over it’s bitterness. “But is giving up the satisfaction of killing him really a fair exchange for a specific technique and a bit of cursed energy?”

Your lips pressed together in a grimace. “You have no idea what it was like living underneath that monster’s reign. Even if the binding vow had odd conditions skewed against their favor, every bit of what was given up was worth it if it meant regaining their freedom.”

Gojo isn’t moved or even impressed by your admittance. He simply shrugs before taking another sip of his tea, face contorting in displeasure once again as he forces himself to swallow the green liquid. You’re tempted to ask him why he keeps sipping if he hates the flavor, but he begins speaking again before you can voice your thoughts.

“So, about the vessel,” he leans against his closed fist, propped up by the low table underneath him. “The higher ups are willing to postpone the kid’s execution in favor of the opportunity to kill Sukuna, but they want someone from your family, preferably you, to be his second shadow so to speak. You’re the failsafe in case the plan doesn’t play out like I promised and the curse needs to be sealed again.”

“Sukuna’s vessel...is a child?” you ask incredulously.

“He’s about your age,” Gojo admits with a displaced smile, but it soon falls once you suddenly erupt into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“That’s priceless!” you say while wiping away a stray tear. “The king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, stuck inside some teenager’s body? I bet he’s pissed off and swearing up a storm inside the kid!”

You’re not sure who exactly is getting the most amusement at the turn of events, you or your ancestor from beyond the grave. After your laughing fit subsides and you straighten yourself out, you turn back to Gojo to ask him the burning question.

“So when do I get to meet him?”

Itadori Yuuji is the polar opposite of Sukuna. While Sukuna had a smile that both angered and scared your ancestor and those around him, Yuuji’s was like a literal ray of sunshine. He’s nice, energetic, strong willed and even humorous. You’re honestly surprised he can act so hopeful despite all that’s happened to him and has been forced upon his shoulders.

You’re not going to lie, but you honestly expected a timid and somewhat gloomy kid. Someone easy to manipulate to put it bluntly. Yuuji’s friendly personality is welcomed in your book. Though you admit that now that you’ve exchanged a few words with him, you feel bad and pitiful that he’s been marked for death and likely has to deal with Sukuna on a somewhat regular basis.

As Yuuji rambles to you about some childhood incident, the slits underneath his eyes open up and a familiar pair of red eyes meets your gaze. “It’s you,” the manifested mouth on the side of his cheek morphs into a deranged, toothy grin that is so painstakingly recognizable.

Your heartbeat picks up and your palms are coated with an instantaneous layer of nervous sweat. You contemplate saying something or simply ignoring the curse, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of hearing the voice of your ancestor acknowledge him in any way. Before you can come to any consensus, you’re amazed at how Yuuji easily slaps his hand over his cheek and tells the curse to buzz off.

Itadori further cements that he is Sukuna’s antithesis as he goes out of his way to apologize to you for the inconvenience the curse caused you (How could he tell you became nervous when Sukuna spoke only two words at you?) He even brings you a can of soda as a sort of peace offering/token of forgiveness! You’re grateful for the gesture, but you feel bad for letting him think that he’s at fault for something that wasn’t even that big of a deal to begin with.

“Still, I made you upset,” he looks down to his empty can and pouts. “If you don’t want to be around me-”

“Yuuji,” you interrupt him. “I’m fine, really. My ancestor stood their ground against him once. Surely I can do it again a millennium later.”

“Gojo-sensei was telling me about that!” his eyes sparkle with recollection. “That’s so cool! You’re basically his arch nemesis!”

You awkwardly laugh at his enthusiasm. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“So, Senpai,” he looks at your with a hopeful gaze. “Gojo-sensei seems pretty certain this plan of his will work, but what do you think?”

“Well,” you take a quick sip of your drink before continuing. “Before I tell you what I think about this whole debacle, I need to make a few things thing clear regarding the two of us.”

He obediently nods, face now serious, though it takes you a considerable amount of effort not to laugh from how innocent he still looks. It’s hard to believe he’s housing the king of curses within himself.

“First and foremost, don’t call me Senpai! ” you firmly say. Don’t call me by my family name either. We’re about the same age, so just call me by my first name from now on. Understood?”

“First name, got it!”

“Second,” you put up two fingers. “This is the most important point, so pay attention,” you look at him to make sure he’s ready to commit your words into memory. “Whether the plan works out or not, you must never forget one important fact of the matter. You are not Sukuna.”

He flinches, clearly not expecting such words to be directed towards him.

“I’m sure Gojo whipped up some epic tale about my ancestor’s grudge against that two-faced monster. I not only inherited their technique, but also many of their memories during their initial life. In a way, I suppose I hate Sukuna as well, and based on my reaction from earlier when he popped out, I’m not exactly going to handle moments where he gains control with as much poise as I should.

But remember Yuuji. My discomfort will never be towards you, but the curse you are now bound to,” you reach out and pat his head in assurance. “As the saying goes ‘the enemy of my enemy is a friend.’ Which brings me to my final point!” You excitedly profess. “I want us to be friends!”

“Wait, really?” he sounds almost unsure over your insistence. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to put up with me for my sake.”

“I’m not saying we have to be the best of friends” you explain. “Since we’re going to be around each other so often, I at least want us to be on friendly terms. I want your time left in this world to be as enjoyable and carefree as possible.”

“I guess we can be friends,” he crosses his arms and stares off in deep thought. “I’m just trying to think of a good starting point to get to know you.”

“You can always keep it simple and ask me what I like,” you say, laughing at the way he suddenly has an “ah hah!’ moment and looks at you like an excited puppy.

“Do you like Jennifer Lawrence?”

Yuuji is almost offended that you didn’t know who Jennifer Lawrence is. He was utterly flabbergasted that you haven’t watched any of her movies either (“I don’t even know who she is Yuuji how the hell am I supposed to know she was in movies?”). He went on and on about every single film, but if you’re being honest his 2 minute summaries (infodumping, really) of the plots didn’t really do them justice. Out of nowhere he proposes that you and him have a movie night so he can show you exactly what you’re missing! Of course, it’ll have to be after the two of you settle into your dorm rooms.

It’s true that you were offered immediate admission into Tokyo Technical college due to your lineage, but no one but you and your family knew about this. Gojo also knew. He was the one that brought up the idea in the first place…

Oh, Gojo told him. Well now you just feel stupid.

That’s how you found yourself in the dormitory’s common area with Yuuji and your other classmates, Nobara and Megumi. Meeting them wasn’t that bad. Just kidding, it was terrifying! Megumi looks exactly the way your family often describes members of the Zen’in clan to look like, blank and unnerving. You honestly thought Nobara would beat you up just from the way she was looking at you with such an observing glare, completely forgetting the fact that you’re a descendant of the person who single handedly sealed Sukuna away.

Oh yeah, Yuuji told them that! Was he not supposed to?

“Hah?” Nobara scowls at Yuuji, who puts his hands up in defense. “You mean their old ass grandparent turned that ugly ass curse into bite sized pieces?”

“I did,” you answer, but you quickly catch your mistake and correct yourself. “They did. Along with the sword they used to cut Sukuna down I also inherited most of their memories which is...It’s not as pleasant as you would think.”

Her expression softens up a bit and she steps in front of you. She holds out her palm and makes a beckoning gesture. “The sword,” she clarifies when you look at her with confusion. “Let me hold it.”

You make a quick trip back to your room to retrieve it. She nearly doubles over into you once you pass it over to her.

“Damn! How much does this thing weigh?!” she looks at you with disbelief

“It weighs next to nothing whenever I hold it,” you explain, taking it into your hold and tossing it in the air and twirling it around to further drive your point.

“Bullshit! It’s like 50 pounds!”

“It can’t be that bad,” Megumi comments.

“Oh yeah? Here!” Nobara grabs and tosses it at him, much to your dismay. “See?” she shrills when he nearly doubles over himself. “It’s heavy!”

“Yeah, ok. This is definitely the sword that took down Sukuna,” Megumi gasps.

“My turn! My turn!” Yuuji makes grabby hands, but you push yourself between him and Megumi who’s still holding onto it before he can get too close.

“It’s probably best if you don’t touch it. Y’know?” you point back and forth between him and you.

“Oh, right,” he sheepishly remembers. “Crap, the popcorns gonna get cold!”

You sigh in relief when his attention goes elsewhere before quickly heading back to your room to put the weapon away. When you reenter the lounge, Yuuji greets you with a cheery smile before patting the empty space next to him. He wants you to sit beside him, but Nobara seems to have other plans as she sits right in your intended spot and tells you to sit next to her instead. You were honestly scared and a bit reluctant, but your fears subside once you sat down and she locked her arm with yours and leaned her head on your shoulder for the rest of the night.

She and Megumi eventually retreated back to their rooms before they could fall asleep on the couch after the second movie concludes.

“Do you want to keep going?” Yuuji asked, hands fidgeting with the next DVD case he had at the ready.

“Sure,” you nod, not tired in the slightest just yet.

“Sweet!” he gave you a toothy smile before standing up to head towards the dvd player. However, the moment he stood to his full height he went deathly still. His body contorts before swiftly relaxing. He rolls his neck a few times and lets out a relieved sigh. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, that’s when you feel that disgusting familiar aura and your heart starts beating like you just did a triathlon in a few short minutes.

“Finally, some fresh air,” he sighs in relief as he arches his back and his spine lets out a few crisp pops. His voice hasn’t changed in a thousand years and neither has your fear and disdain for it. When he turns and looks at you with those familiar blood colored irises, you involuntarily reach out to grab your weapon, but you only grab at empty air.

“Hey,” you flinch when he addresses you. No, it’s not you he’s talking to. Given your identical appearance and even your cursed energy that you manifested out of habit, in his mind he must think of you as your ancestor themself, not a distant descendant. “It’s been a while.”

“What do you want?” you somehow manage to stutter out.

“Nothing,” he admits. “’Just want a good look at you.”

If your ancestor or even your family were to see you now, you’re certain they’d be disappointed in you for going still before your greatest enemy. All those years of hating and experiencing all those horrible memories feel like a complete waste when you can’t even muster the strength to bat his hand away when it takes hold of your chin and turns your head over for him to thoroughly inspect you.

“Did you miss me?” he strangely inquires.

Finally. You feel some control over your body come back and answer with an affirmative, “No.”

“That’s too bad,” he clicks his tongue with mocking dissatisfaction. “Because I missed you.”

His face begins to lean into you, lips slightly parted, and you know that he’s going in to press them against yours. Just as you’re about to gather all the strength you can muster and push him away, his body seizes once more and the black markings cross his face and wrists begin to fade and crumble away. An in-control-again Yuuji blinks a few times before checking his surroundings to regain his bearings.

“What happened?” he looks down at you and asks, not registering the fact that he was kneeling over you and firmly pushing you back against the couch with a painful grip.

A part of you wanted to punch Yuuji and run back to your room so you can wait out the slight panic attack that overcame you once Sukuna vanished, but you had to remind yourself that you would be hurting Yuuji if you went through with your action. In all honesty, that second point you told him of remembering to never think of himself as Sukuna was more for you than for him. While your ancestor would willingingly strike down any and all who have the slightest bit of affiliation with their tormentor, you are not them. Therefore, you will not stoop down to their discriminating level, no matter how justified it may be.

The night ended on an expected awkward note. Yuuji, bless his heart, went out of his way again to make it up to you. How? He bought a bunch of snacks from a convenience store in the city and gave them to you in a pretty, gift wrapped box. Nobara and Megumi, who helped him put together the forgiveness present, thought the gift itself was dumb and lackluster, but he reasons with them by stating how you also come from a countryside town as well and how you’d definitely like to try some of the Tokyo-exclusive goodies.

Well, the way towards another’s forgiveness is through the stomach, or something like that. The exact quote is a bit lost to you since you’re too busy savoring all the odd flavored chips and candies you’ve never had the chance to taste back home. Nobara and Megumi feel the immense urge to punch you in the back of your head over how easy you are to win over, but you look so happy eating your second bag of potato chips and Yuuji looks very relieved that he’s earned your forgiveness-

Oh wow you’re offering to share your snacks with them? Don't mind if they do!

While all of you try each and every snack Yuuji gifted to you and rate them like you’re all a bunch of snack experts all of a sudden, Sukuna is brewing in his own satisfaction as he watches you through the eyes of his vessel. Nevermind the fact that you sealed him away all those years ago. He’s back now by a stroke of luck that only seemed to strike again when he saw your familiar figure through Yuuji’s vision. The cursed energy that radiated off of you, the sword you carried by your side, even your face, there was no doubt in his mind that it was the work of fate that you and him were reunited in this new era.

He made the mistake of letting you out of his sight back then, and he isn’t going to let it happen again. He wants to take control over his vessel's body each and every time he’s anywhere within your vicinity, but not only does the brat have the convenient ability to suppress him, you’re a rather cautious one. Just when he thinks Yuuji to be alone and susceptible, you appear out of thin air and keep him at a standstill from within. It’s annoying, but at the same time impressive as well.

While you may be oblivious to his vessel’s budding feelings towards you, he sees this growing fondness Yuuji is beginning to garner towards you as an opportunity, a weakness he can exploit to force a small rematch between you and him. He won’t kill you. He just wants to know if your technique that surprised and caught him off guard back then still elicits the same thrill it did then.

You are his favorite source of entertainment after all, and it’s been far too long since he’s been amused.

Sloppy and desperate. Those are the best descriptors of your cursed energy the first time he detected it. Your sword still remains as beautiful and deadly as it was, cutting through rows of trees with ease with just the slightest bit of cursed energy embedded into your attack. It makes the phantom sensation of his vessel’s freshly ripped out heart, beat faster and his grin widens to the point of his cheeks hurting from the uncontrollable strain.

Precise and brutal. That is how he would describe your energy now. He easily feels the hatred and sudden rage that began to fuel and flare up your aura oozing out of you that only further accentuates its new characteristics. Normally, you would be swearing at him with a mouth so foul that it would make the average curse blush in embarrassment. He can’t say he likes the way you silently assault him. Where is that crude vocabulary of yours?

“Senpai!” Megumi shouts for your attention as he tries to keep up with your fast paced exchange with Sukuna. “You need to call down-”

“Megumi, don’t call me your damn Senpai!” You shout in response, eyes never daring to look away from Sukuna even as you address your classmate.

“That’s more like it!” he cheers with satisfaction. “Oh, how I’ve missed your damning words beloved.”

“Don’t call me that!” you shout as you swing your right arm and impulsively punch him. He easily blocks your melee, though you send him skidding back a few feet.

With the much needed space set between the two of you, you correct your stance to a more defensive one. Your innate technique has been actively running ever since Sukuna took over Yuuji’s body and activated his domain expansion. Your sudden bout of rage overwhelmed you after witnessing Sukuna rip Yuuji’s heart out, nearly forgetting that you’ve been barred from the ability to inflict any lasting damage against him in your frenzied state.

Your inherited technique allows you to perfectly parry his ‘Dismantle’ and ‘Cleave’, but no damage will be inflicted if you purposely strike with the intention of dealing a lethal blow as you have been for the past few minutes. Your sword is blunt upon contact, evident by the lack of any lacerations upon his skin.

He may have offered the chance to heal Yuuji if you agreed to spar with him, but you know better than anyone that it’s all a bunch of lies coming out of his stolen lips. Yuuji was lost the moment Sukuna came out and set his sight on you, or rather, who he believes you to be. You’d easily blame yourself for being the cause of his demise, but you also know that Yuuji wouldn’t like it if you blame yourself over this from the afterlife.

The least you can do to make it up to him is bring his body back so it can be properly cremated. He at least deserves a proper funeral.

“All tuckered out already?” Sukuna mockingly coos at you. “I suppose that’s to be expected. How long has it been since our last battle? I doubt there was any curse who could live up to my strength this past millennium.” He cackles when you don’t reply. He’s right. He knows he is.

You finally break your silence with an odd comment. “You really think I’m them, do you?”

Though obviously rhetoric, Sukuna gives you a questioning look. “Elaborate,” he commands.

“I’m not who you think I am,” you simply state. “I have the same technique as them, but I am not the one who sealed you away that fateful night. That person is my predecessor, while I am their descendant.”

You state your family name, then your first name, and wait. He willingly takes in this information, cupping his chin and looking up at the sky as he mulls it over before coming to his own conclusion. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t seem to accept it as the truth, evident by the way he slips his hands back in his pockets and cocks his head at you with a playful attitude.

“Whatever the punchline was, I’m afraid it fell flat,” he lets out a sympathetic laugh. “You mean to tell me that after I was sealed away, you found yourself a spouse willing to take you, a washed up whore, into their bosom and bear children with you?”

The way he shakes his head and clicks his tongue in a dismissive manner pisses you off more than watching him crush Yuuji’s heart in his bare hand. Most of the memories of your ancestor revolve around their time as one of Sukuna’s concubines. The memories you have of their life afterwards are foggy at best, but you do remember the feeling of peace as well an overwhelming amount of bliss and mutual love their spouse gave them despite their history. It was one of the happiest moments of their life and it never once faltered even after they retold their darkest memories to their children and handed down their initial will, to always oppose the king of curses, no matter the era.

People may think it cruel, selfish even, that they did not strive to develop a better technique and pass down such a heavy responsibility to their children and their children’s children. But if there’s anything those hazy memories taught you, is that they do not regret the efforts that they did make to set themselves, and the others under his servitude, free from his tyranny. Had they submitted and gave into his whims, they would have never been blessed with their children and loving spouse.

Had they not done what they did, acted the way they did, you would not be here, opposing the king of curses within this new era of curses.

“I have never lied to you,” you repeat those now ancient words. “The least you can do is give me the benefit of the doubt before dubbing me a liar.”

It happened so fast that you question if it even happened or not. His eyebrows furrowed, the exact same manner when your ancestor severed the first of his twenty fingers on that fateful night.

When he began to approach you, you sheath your blade and returned to a neutral stance, feeling safe to do so as the previous hostile energy he exuded calms. Megumi stumbles in just in time to see Sukuna and you standing nearly chest to chest. He presses his palms together in preparation to summon one of his shikigami to provide support, but he stops his incantation when he notices that neither of you are exchanging blows anymore, though the two of you do exchange unfaltering glares towards each other that puts Megumi on edge even though he is merely a spectator in this situation.

“I am not them,” you firmly state. “This is the truth.”

Sukuna hums, dissatisfaction clear as you repeat your claim from earlier.

“It seems you weren’t lying,” he finally concedes. “Such a shame.”

With one final shrug, the black markings all over Yuuji’s chest and limbs begin to crumble until there's nothing but his unblemished skin. The sharper features his face takes on when Sukuna takes control and taints with his sigils turn back into those belonging to the typically boisterous boy.

“Hey,” his slightly raspy and confused voice greets you so genuinely.

“Hey,” you greet him back with a relieved, yet sad smile. His eyes follow yours that seemed focused on his chest and that’s when he finally notices the gaping hole as well as the lack of a beating heart and blood trail.

The grey clouds that have been gathering before you all were dropped off at the school finally begin to shed droplets of cold rain down on you. A drop lands perfectly on his face that looks indistinguishable to a shed tear. You instinctively reach out and wipe it away.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” he pouts.

“It’s alright,” you withdraw your hand away from his cold and sickeningly pale cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from him.”

He took a deep breath as if he was about to say something else, but his eyes finally go blank and his upright body gives out and falls forward. You catch him with ease and carefully set him down on the damp soil. He’s officially gone to you, yet you take extra care to cup the back of his head and gently set him down with shaking hands. As you kneel beside his stiff body, another drop falls on his face and trickles down.

You’re not sure if it’s another raindrop or the first of many teardrops that begin to spill from your tear ducts once your brain finally registers that your best friend is lying dead before you.

A week later

Yuuji is dead, yet it is as clear as the large hole in his chest that Sukuna is still living on within the body, if only barely. Ieiri, Gojo and Ijichi can’t tell, but you can. Call it yet another inherited skill or instinct, but no amount of pitiful words or comforting pats on your back from either of them are going to make you second guess yourself on this matter.

Sukuna is alive, yet for some reason he isn’t staking his claim on the body. You know he can at any moment, but it seems he’s not entirely stupid and is trying to play his cards right.

Perhaps he’s waiting for something? Maybe a certain someone instead? It wouldn’t surprise you if he has allies that are still alive and are well aware of his resurrection. It wouldn’t surprise you either if they were gathering his other fingers in his stead. Those damn things are blinking beacons for other curses, so gathering them shouldn’t be hard even for the most mediocre of cursed beings. Even when he’s made into a bunch of inanimate objects, he can still cause some amount of chaos and grief.

Damn him.

Your claim that Sukuna still lives goes from outlandish and desperate to undoubtedly true when a faint pulse of his energy brings everyone’s attention to Yuuji’s corpse and puts you all on the defensive. It was a signal, specifically for you. He wants you to come to him, within his own playing field and without the prying eyes of your superiors or the chance for any outside interference from your teacher.

Speaking of Gojo, he’s been trying to pull you away from Yuuji’s corpse and usher you out of the room for your own protection.

“He wants to talk to me,” you state the obvious to him.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” he says with finality. It’s almost adorable how he’s trying to play the role of the stern authority figure when he’s normally such an eccentric man 99% of the time. “C’mon, you need to leave.”

“Gojo-sensei,” you reach up to your shoulder that he’s tightly gripping and gently pry his hand off. “I mean no disrespect to you, or anyone at this school for that matter. But when it comes to matters regarding Ryomen Sukuna, you and the higher ups don’t know a damn thing about that monster.”

Your hand hastily reaches out and your fingertips merely graze against Yuuji’s cold and rigid skin. Just that slight contact is enough to have your surroundings shift from a stagnant and grey autopsy room to a dark and brooding domain. You blink away the dizziness from your sudden shift of reality and the first thing you notice is the pile of ox skulls. You also notice the endless rows of ribs high up in the air that further add towards the domain’s ominousness.

“I’m here!” you cup your hands around your mouth as you yell out. “The hell do you want from me you two-faced bastard?!”

“Quit screaming,” his annoyed yet strangely soft voice startles you. You abruptly turn around to meet him face to face.

“Where’s Yuuji?” you ask with command behind your infliction.

“There’s no one else but us,” he says in a poor attempt to make you drop your defensive body posture. When he notices that you aren’t relaxing, he points behind you with an annoyed glare. You turn to see nothing but the collection of dirtied animal skulls, but at the last second you see an unconscious Yuuji planted face down into the ankle deep water (blood?) at the bottom of the mountainous pile. Upon seeing the familiar tuft of pink hair, you sprint towards his unmoving body. You flip him upwards once he’s in reach, fearing he was drowning or at the very least injured in some way.

As you try to gently coax or check for any sign of life within your friend, you ignore or even fail to notice the way Sukuna observes you from behind. The boy is unconscious only due to Sukuna easily decapitating him earlier as they fought over the conditions of the binding vow he was enforcing in exchange for healing his vessel’s body and bringing him back to life. Just as he was about to uphold his end of the vow, he felt as you entered the room his vessel’s lifeless body was most definitely being stored to be later cremated.

His reaching out to you was an impulsive action on his part. He now knows that the one who stands before him is truly not you. Your energy and your descendants are near indistinguishable, so his sudden call of you was a mere force of habit and his prevailing desire to chase after you. It’s not his brightest moment, but you tend to make him act beyond what is usually his typical behavior.

As he watches your descendant talk to a half awake and delirious Yuuji, he can’t help but to examine them with a bit of awe. The one before him is your descendant of a thousand years, perhaps even more. They are your flesh and blood, and yet they retain not only your image, but even some of your memories as well. He doesn’t know what to think of this revelation, truly he doesn’t.

The only thing that’s rubbing him the wrong way is the fact that they are not a product between you and him. It’s not that he has or had any sort of unfulfilled paternal desire locked deep within him. Even if he did contemplate producing a few offspring before his temporary demise, he only wanted children for the same reason he wanted a harem, as a source of amusement that he can freely manipulate however he sees fit. Perhaps he did consider impregnating a few dozen of his concubines to see if any could birth him an heir worthy of his legacy, but the entire process was too much of a hassle that he wasn’t willing to deal with at the time. He had no pure intentions when it comes to spreading his seed into the world.

So why is he angry that you went ahead and did so without him?

“Your ancestor’s spouse,” he idly mentions in an attempt to garner their careful attention. From the way they stiffen up and look at him with that familiar glare of yours, he has it. “What were they like?”

“As if I’d tell you,” they say.

“I see you inherited their stubbornness,” he huffs with annoyance, but deep down in the deepest and most hidden parts of his mind, he feels somewhat glad that your stubbornness continues to live on in the world. “Tell me, and I’ll let you return with Yuuji-”

“Their spouse was just as stubborn as they were,” they cut him off with an immediate answer. “No matter how many times they tried to ignore or downplay their advances, they continued to chase after my predecessor until it was as obvious as the sun that they truly wanted to be together with them and make them happy.”

As he expected, their recollection of your life after him is too disgustingly domestic and romanticized for his liking. What does come at a surprise is that they completely went against their earlier proclamation of remaining silent and divulged him on the information he initially asked of you rather readily. Something must have switched in their mind. Are they trying to get back at him on your behalf by proudly stating that you lived a happy life without him?

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” they say with a smug voice. “They hated you beyond comprehension, and even if they are long gone from this world, I assure you that their hatred remains just as intense as it was when they lived.”

“Don’t be mistaken, you pathetic human,” he growls, much more angrily than normal. “I could care less who they fornicated with and how many children they produced.”

“For the self proclaimed king of curses, you sure are a terrible liar,” they say, almost pitifully. “You regret the way you treated them, don’t you? Deny it all you want, I know I’m right.”

Your last comment is the final straw. With the flick of his wrist he casts you and Yuuji out of his inner domain and back into the living world. He heals Yuuji to maintain his side of the binding vow before settling back atop his rigid throne of horned skulls. He watches through Yuuji’s eyes how the two of you squeeze each other into a firm embrace after he reawakens. When Gojo makes a comment about how Yuuji is stark naked on the metal table, he feels the immense urge to grab one of the skulls and crush it into a fine dust in his bare fist as the two of you devolve into a fit of awkward but good natured laughter at the realization.

He can’t remember a time when you ever laughed or smiled like your descendant is doing now.

Does he regret never once seeing or hearing you in such a way? Maybe.

But you’re gone, so there is no point lingering on it too much.

There’s no point in having regrets now.

Bonus

Sukuna knew it was only a matter of time before you and Yuuji solidified your relationship as a romantic one. Back in his prime, he behaved no differently than Yuuji did after he brought him back to life, straightforward and without a second thought. Ever since he stole you away from your family and home, every chance you took at defying him and damning his name into the fiery pits of hell invoked something within him. Something no other man or woman can or ever will be able to. And yet, each time he reached out to indulge himself further of you, you retreated into yourself and tried to cast him out of every corner of your mind while he tried to engrave your everything into his very being. Your behavior to his advances differ greatly from your descendant, who accepts Yuuji’s advances with an honest and willing smile.

He watches the relationship through the unsuspecting eyes of his vessel. Sometimes, he gags at how sickeningly affectionate Yuuji can be. Yet despite his behavior, your descendant drinks it all up and returns the hugs and the kisses tenfold. Nobara and Megumi often roll their eyes on the sidelines and comment on how they were practically made for each other. Sukuna can't help but silently roll his eyes as well as agree with their annoyed comments, even if it makes him incredibly irritated.

Will he ever admit to the latter? Never.

He does not regret the way things turned out between you and him. He cannot regret for the sake of his sanity. Instead, he often ponders about the possibilities. Had he not taken you from your home, could there have been a chance you and him could have been friends despite his reputation at the time? If he courted you properly instead of forcing you into his collection of common whores, could you look at him the same way your descendant looks at Yuuji, with so much love and tenderness that it makes his stomach twist into knots and the back of his throat burn? Despite being a curse who sustains himself on his pure carnal desires, could he have been selfless and put forth the efforts to make you happy?

During nights when they share a bed together, he sneaks control over the body and traces what was once your face with his black painted claws. Could you ever look so peaceful as your descendant does now if you laid beside him? Would you remain in his bed until the sun rises instead of fleeing? Would your body feel just as warm, fit just as perfectly in his embrace as your descendant does?

Sukuna does not regret the path he took. He cannot, for the sake of his sanity. He does wonder about the possibilities.

He wonders, could this descendant of yours have been his as well?

509 notes · View notes

kirishoshego · 3 years

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Moneypulated PT.2//Aizawa

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY!!!

Special thanks to Emmie for creating this awesome S&M event and letting me participate and those who requested a part two of my first Aizawa piece x

If you like Sadism and Masochism, BNHA; AOT and Haikyuu the event is definitely for you :)

Pairing: Sadist!Mob-Boss!Dom!Aizawa x Masochist!Sub!femreader Words:3.2+

Summary: When your life is threatened Aizawa realized just how important you are to him. A small fight leaves you bend over the couch, cross eyes and leads to him admitting his feelings for you.

TW: slight mention of torture (a bit more at the end), s&m, controlling Aizawa, calling him sir, knife play (no blood), slight ass and nipple play, orgasm denial, slight oral, biting, spanking, hair pulling, dirty talk, slight bit of degration and teasing

Three month, three weeks and three days. That’s how long it took you to develop positive feelings for him. He gave you everything, but privacy, something you had to learn rather quick because that man was strong and even though he doesn’t look like it, heavy. You told him no twice. The first time left you bruised for at least three days, fucked into oblivion. The second time left you sobbing from his impact play. You hated how little you could control your body, dripping wet before he slipped into you. Something he would love to taunt you with. „Always so quiet and modest. Yet here you are begging to be fucked by a criminal after he spanked you blue and green. Don’t tell me you like that. Tsk, dirty girl,“ he told you with a slight smirk on his face, one hand having a strong hold in your hair to hold you up so he could look at you. The other one pinched and played with clit, milking orgasm after orgasm.

He knew how to work his charm, knew how to impress you. Listened, remembered basically every detail about you. Aizawa wanted to know everything about you, from childhood memories to teenage drama to your goals and dreams. Of course he was genially interested in you, after all he wanted you at his side, but it was also helpful to know one or too secrets. Just in case. It was understandable that he was a bit shocked and also even more alarmed when Shota noticed how fast you adapted to the captive state of yours. There was no attempt of you running away, either because you knew it wouldn’t work with guards everywhere around you, or because you were afraid. So he tested it out. Gave you a car, told you to go enjoy yourself, get pampered for a surprise he had prepared.

First thing you did was getting new underwear because as much as you… appreciated him buying it for you you would like to have a few comfortable pieces that cover more than 3 inches of your skin. You stopped to get a nice drink at a small restaurant, got a small snack before you ended up buying four new plants. A smile creeped up on his face when his phone signaled him he got a new message from Shinso. Attached to it was a picture of you smiling while picking up the most sad looking flower he had ever seen.

It happened while driving back. You realized happiness started to form in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again. Excitement about showing him what you had bought. How could you be happy? After how he treated you in front of so many men, so many strangers. But then again he took care of a man who had sold you for his addiction. You knew he was in the hospital right now, after trying to enter the casino again. At first you thought he was there to get you, to show at least some sort of remorse. Even though their boss told them not to tell you those details Denki let it slip that Kirishima caught him gambling. With that your last string of attachment ripped apart. It wasn’t hard to choose between being left alone with nothing or a slightly questionable man who (as much as you would like to deny it) made you feel good, save and wanted.

That day was the first time he took you to the casino with him, introduced you to a part of his world. The one that was less brutal. He wouldn’t not let you see someone getting tortured. But he knew how gruesome it can get and even though he wouldn’t tell anyone, he threw up after his first time, felt sick the first five. It just made it so much easier to get people to talk. Or make them stop. Sometimes they need to be taught a lesson or too to not put their noses in his businesses.

Rumors started to spread around fast after your first appearance. Shota Aizawa has a trophy wife. Something that made him weak. A pretty one on top of that and she was supposed to be his little lucky charm. Every table you appeared at, the house would win. You didn’t play yourself, you only sat besides your... Well, besides the mob boss himself.

There was no explanation for it really, it wasn’t luck per se. It was math. Some liked math in school, some didn’t. What you liked more though was winning. And games like these were hard to predict, but not impossible. Another aspect were their faces. Everyone focused on their face and those of others, tried to keep cool while detecting a mistake of others that they forgot about other limbs. Some tapped their fingers against the table or cards, others would play with their drink, swirling the ice cubes around without touching it. Some bounced their legs, crossed them, scratched them. Once you caught their mistake it was over for them.

While some got scared because of it, others seemed to find a challenge in it. They wanted to beat you. How could you know that one night you will have the son of another mob boss on the table? He was supposed to be a spy, simply collect information about you and leave. But the opportunity to beat you and therefor Aizawa was too alluring. How could he know that he will lose almost 33 Million yen in one night? And with those 33 Million yen came a big target right on your back.

In less than 24 hours a collection of pictures and informations about you was delivered to Peony. In less than 24 hours your world was turned upside down yet again. The freedom you were given was taken away in order to protect you. His worry for you was understandable but when he decided to have Bakugo and Kirishima on your heels 24/7 you had enough.

--------------------------------------------

„I’m inside the house! The house has walls almost thrice as high as Kirishima’s 7 foot frame, a massive garden with six well trained guard dogs running around. You have the best alarm system there is on the market and still I’m not even allowed to use the bathroom in private. It’s humiliating,“ you explained to him angrily. „I would rather humiliate you than pick up your dead body limp by limp,“ he tried reasoning. „Do you even hear yourself? How can you say something like that? Do you not trust your men? I can defend myself! Eijiro has-„ suddenly you went quiet, realizing too late what gravitating mistake you just that you had just exposed yourself.

„Eijiro has what? Continue doll. I‘m all ears,“ he leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms over his in a black shirt clad chest. „We shouldn‘t be changing the subject now. I need-," „What you need is to tell me what Kirishima did,“ you wouldn‘t be so on edge if he yelled at you, screaming at the top of his lungs, slam his hand on the desk, anything. Instead he was dangerously calm, collected, ready for you to make the next step. Knowing you were trapped like a small mouse between a wall and an awaiting cat, only playing with its fear.

„I will tell you if you promise me he isn‘t going to suffer any consequences. He had no ill intentions,“ you started explaining, making a step forward and trying to look as timid as possible so he will show mercy. „You actually think you‘re in a position to negotiate? Oh darling, it is breaking my heart a tiny bit to see you’re underestimating me,“ he faked a pained expression before closing the gab between the two of you.

You knew better than to relax yourself into his touch as he caressed your cheek, planting a small kiss on your forehead.

„Now,“ Aizawa stood behind you within a second, your wrists in his hand behind your back, something cold against your neck. „Please continue before I lose the small amount of patience that is left inside of me,” he sounded threatening, his voice deep and raspy, mouth dangerously close to your ear lobe. The knife near your aorta send adrenaline through your whole body, your pussy pulsing as you caught sight of your current position in his window.

You noticed his eyes wandering over the curves of your body, as the sound heavy breathing hit your ear. It seems like he was holding back, but be the looks of it all he wanted to do was drag the knife along your clothes and watch it drop to the floor. It wasn’t on purpose, more or less, but your hand brushed against his crotch, hearing him hiss as you touched his hard length for a mere second. The grip on the red handle tightened, pulling your body into his and leading your hand back to his crotch.

Eyes met in the window as he licked his lips. He tilted your head back slightly with the tip of the sharp blade, kissing the spot behind your ear.

„Sorry kitten, but this isn’t the time to play,“ he whispered into your ear while you started massaging him through his suit pants. A smirk appeared on your face as you agreed with him ‚oh I know, sir‘ you basically purred. Within seconds you pulled yourself away from him with your whole strength, bowing as he went to grab your hair and kicking back into his stomach as you turned which send him to the floor as he stumbled. Grabbing the knife from his hand and dropping onto his hips as you held the knife to his throat.

„Eijiro taught me how to defend myself, so I don’t have creepy old men all over me,“ you told him, a sudden wisp of a moan leaving your throat as he grabbed your hips and ground his pelvis against yours. „I didn’t know I’m a creepy old man. Wasn’t it just yesterday that you begged me to stuff you? And wasn’t it you that screamed my name so the whole house could hear who fucks you ‚like a god‘? Hm… I must confuse you with someone else that came cross eyed all over me considering I don’t play with brats,“ as the last word left his mouth he flipped you around, turning you so your stomach was flat against the freshly cleaned floor, hand in between your shoulder blades to hold you down.

He thanked the sun for shining so brightly and the clouds for not appearing, considering it lead to you dressed in the shortest little sundress you could find in your closet. The color suited you so damn well and the dress made it so easy for him to uncover your ass. His hungry eyes starred at it in its full glory, feeling his rock hard cock to twitch in his pants.

The blade was dragged across your skin and he could have fucked you right then and there as he noticed how you tried to clench your legs, goose bumps appearing on your skin. „Don’t tell me you enjoy this, such a dirty girl,“ he stopped right at the hem of your underwear, dragging the flat side across your clit and earning another moan of yours. He chuckled, „I see.“

Suddenly the blade was back at your throat, his other hand massaging your ass. „If you try to move or forget to thank me I might have to use the sharp side next time and we don’t want that do we doll?“ Shota asked you, the tip slightly pressed onto your sweet spot as you took to long to reply for his liking. „No sir,“ your voice was slightly shaky as the anticipation inside of you grew. „Not so tough anymore, thought so,“ he loved your submissive state, every time he thought he went too far you were there dripping wet for him.

Without a warning his hand came down hard on your ass, massaging your cheek before disappearing again. „Thank you sir,“ you moaned, the next slap delivered right after. „Thank you sir,“ you said again, feeling our wetness slowly seeping through the thin fabric covering your cunt. Every once in a while he would dip his fingers between your folds, playing with your clit until you’re about to cum, only to stop and spank you again.

Once your ass was a bright red and noticeable handprints adorned your flesh he decided he had enough. The last few thank you’s gave away that you started crying softly, maybe slightly caused by the pain, but more at fault definitely were the denied orgasms.

„Had time to overthink your statement from earlier?“ Aizawa went down to your ass, pushing your panties to the side and dragging his tongue across your slit, dipping inside for a second to collect some of your juice. Kisses were plastered across your abused skin, bitting down onto it to hear you moan again.

„I give you ten seconds to go over to my couch, get undressed and bend over it,“ if you weren’t so incredibly needy right now you might even had begged for some more spanks.

You could hear him get undressed as you did the same, back turned to him to allow him a nice view on your behind.

You could feel his presence even before he touched you, the smell of his cologne mixed with his sweat hitting your nose. Rough hands collided with your ass once more, before wandering up your back, one finding its way into your hair, the other one holding his thick girth in his hand and dragging it from your clit to your hole. You whined as you noticed him going back down again with his tip, which lead to him plunging into your throbbing pussy all at once. Curses tumbled from the both of you, finally getting what you wanted.

Shota pulled you up by your hair, allowing his hand to play with chest. Cold metal came in contact with your nipples and only now did you realize that he had brought the knife with him. It took maybe a minute for your first orgasm to hit, considering the ones you were denied earlier had you on edge already. „Done already kitten? Does that mean you want me to stop?“ He knew it meant everything but. It’s just, having you beg for more gets him every time and he can’t deny how powerful it made him feel, which he needed now more than ever. „No, fuck. Please sir, need mo-oh, more,“ a moan cut through you as a single thrust hit your g-spot directly.

„Take it then,“ he pulled you down with him on the couch, his back against the backrest as you straddled his legs. Do to the new position his cock was even deeper than before and you were shaking with almost every bounce as you went up and down on him. Black eyes wandered from your face to your tits to your cunt, watching him disappear inside of you over and over again. Aizawa’s arms wandered from its resting place back to your body, one going to your back, the other one staying in the front.

You hissed, eyes growing wide as you felt rough fingers circling your puckering hole, while the other ones drew lazy patterns on your clit. Every now and then he would meet your movements, burying himself even deeper inside of you. By now you were a moaning mess, clenching around him as you could feel another knot building up in the pit of your stomach. „It’s alright, I got you. You can cum, I know you want to,“ Shota groaned, picking up the speed of his fingers and watching in pure bliss as you came undone once again, slowing down and pulling you into a deep kiss.

As you went to get up from him, your body now sensitive he grabbed your hips, pushing you down again. „Just because you’re on top doesn’t mean you get to control when we’re done,“ he said, delivering a harsh slip to the left side of your tits, before grabbing your throat and pushing you down into the mating press. „You have to remember your place doll. I get decide when we’re finished and I’m not done yet,“ he grunted, snapping his hips as the hand around you held you in place firmly. A warning slap heated up your tears stained cheek when you tried to wiggle away from him and he felt you clenching around his dick.

You looked so good with mascara running down your face, he thought, feeling himself getting closer and closer as you moaned his name like some sort of prayer. „Again, please,“ you said, feeling the third high coming. It took him a second to understand what you asked for, but when it finally clicked he cursed under his breath, telling you how perfect you are. As he slapped you again, holding your face in his hand and kissing your lips hotly you were holding onto his arm for dear life. Stars appeared in front your eyes as you came once again. You barely noticed anything but his thrusts turning sloppy before he released himself inside of you, buried deep and painting your insides white.

„I didn’t know pain turned you on so much,“ he said with a lazy smile on his face, looking down on your face, your embarrassed expression hardly hidden. „Me neither to be honest… You know how it went in the past,“ you hinted at your unsatisfied sex life with your ex husband, who thought doggy style was already pretty kinky. No shame to vanilla people, but now you knew it wasn’t what you wanted. „It’s good to know, we will test out more things in the future,“ the thought of it turned you on again already and you kissed his chest, letting him know you like the sound of that idea.

„I love you, you know?“ He mumbled as the two of you laid on the couch while drawing patterns on your back lazily. Your heart skipped a bit, this was the first time Aizawa mentioned his feelings for you. „You don’t gotta say it back, I know it’s all a bit messy,“ he said, kissing your forehead. „No, it’s just… After sex the mind is always bit-,“ „Yours might be after that but mine is as clear as ever,“ he cut you off, making you roll your eyes and laugh gently. „I love you too,“ it was mumbled, almost unnoticeable, but he heard you just fine which was all he needed.

————————————- Extra—————————————-

„I run this town. Piss me off again and your wife will find out about your little affair with your little lover boy. She’s pregnant, right? And you would like to be able to care for her don’t you? If so, I suggest you to never threaten my wife or my men ever again. It won’t just be your finger that I cut off, understood?“ He knew killing him off immediately will only cause war. He would win, of course, but it would be unnecessary and taking too much of his energy. „Yes Mister Aizawa,“ the hatred and fear in his eyes pleased him enough for the day, so he walked out of the room, ordering Bakugo to drop him off a few miles away from everyone. A nice nightly walk might clear his head he explained so the man bound to the chair could hear him just fine. „Don’t worry, I will let you keep your finger, but you should hurry, they turn bad fast,“ with that he went into the dark, ready to get home to you.

©kirishoshego//do not repost on any plattforms

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wolvesandpetals · 3 years

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Fanfic: Loki x Sylvie Oneshot (Hurt/Comfort, Rated: teen, no adult content. Set before, during and after that scene in 1 x 05)

She should be inside, talking to the other Lokis, learning more about this place and its dangers, and strategically planning their next move. Instead, she is out here in the open, staring into the abyss, like she has been almost her entire life. She has lived in apocalypses, watching the colors of the sky change as people merrily went on with their lives, completely unaware of how fleeting it all is. Yet, in the middle of all that death and destruction, there she always has been, the epitome of survival.

[[MORE]]

This “Void” is no different. This is another place where death and destruction reigns but she remains standing at the end of the day. The sky is blue, but far away, where it meets this foresaken land, is a menacing shade of purple, resembling the one in Lamentis-1. It brings back memories of that night.

As if on cue, Loki comes and sits down beside her. For a man who never shuts up, he’s unusually quiet. She wonders what he might be thinking about. Their impending battle, his future plans, the TVA, Asgard, Thor…

Or whatever it is that he was about to tell her before he got pruned.

—

It’s not the best time to talk when you’re driving a shoddy car away from the mouth of a hungry demon cloud, but that won’t stop him.

“Hell of a Nexus event you caused there,” Mobius comments.

Sylvie’s heart skips a beat. “You know what my Nexus event was? You know why I was taken from Asgard?”

Mobius winces internally. “Oh, that. Sorry. I am in the dark, just like you. I don’t even know what my nexus event was.” His heart breaks at the thought of what home might be like. Does he have a family? Kids? What did he leave behind?

The car hits debris on the road, and they both bump their heads on the hood of the vehicle. “I’m talking about the Nexus event at Lamentis-1”, he clarifies.

“Yeah, about that. How did you know where to show up? What was the Nexus event?”

Mobius smiles. This one is just as clueless as the other one. And even though he has been hunting her for as long as he can remember, he can’t bring himself to voice it quiet as harshly this time. “Well, you and Loki had a connection back there. That’s what sent the timelines into a dizzy. Two Lokis falling in love.”

She feels the air leave her lungs. “I’m sorry, did you just say, love?”

He doesn’t answer, and in the silence, punctuated by the creature’s evil roar, she realises she’s been so focused on what was happening- the running, the fighting, the revelations, the pruning- that she never really stopped to think about how it made her feel.

That’s how it’s always been. That’s how it always has to be when you’re on the run through space and time.

And though she is still being chased at this very moment, she can’t help but contemplate this time. How does she feel?

Now that she thinks about it, deep down, she knows, no matter how many times she tells herself she is only doing this to find who is behind the curtains and get her life back, she would have gone about it in a completely different way, like she always has- hiding, fighting, planning and executing. There is only one reason why she would ever stab herself with a pruning stick.

(Love is a dagger, after all. A glowing, pruning one.)

—

“Mobius is not so bad.” She begins, and it doesn’t take them too long to completely deny their feelings for the other as well as promise their undying loyalty and pledge to be at each other’s side when all this is over.

She snuggles closer to Loki. “Loki?”

“Hmm?”

“If this is not a table cloth, then it’s surely a cape, right?”

He laughs, and it does something to her stomach that she still has to find a name for. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. Why did you ditch your hood?”

She shrugs. A whole life spent in the shadows, away from the spotlight, against the very basic instinct of a Loki. And now? “I’m tired of hiding, I guess.” Her voice is resolute, and her eyes shine with glorious purpose. “I want to be seen.”

“I see you,” he says softly. “I’d like to see more of you.”

She looks up at him with a curious smirk.

“That’s not what-” He’s visibly flustered, and it’s so much fun to make him squirm like this. “It’s not how it sounds. What I meant to say is, I’d like to see you again, when all of this is over.”

She smiles. Didn’t he say this already, when she was scared that he would leave her when all this is over?

Is he just as scared of her leaving him when all of this is over?

“I don’t know”, she bumps her shoulder against his playfully. “Do I want to torture myself so much?”

He feigns offense. “I will have you know, kings and presidents and Gods have begged- begged just to be granted an audience with me. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

“Lucky me”, she says only half- sarcastically. “Stuck here with you under the same-”, she tilts her head to indicate the green material that is currently shielding two frost giants from the cold, the ridiculousness of this not lost on her, “-blanket.”

“Lucky you,” he repeats unironically, and his hand finds its way to hers, their fingers intertwining.

He’s held hands before. He’s had women snuggle up to him too. But not like this. Not anyone who matters. Not anyone whose eyes sing “Come home”.

He places a soft kiss on her hair, the lips that have uttered a thousand lies now focused on the one truth.

She feels her whole body burn.

She’s seen a thousand worlds die before her own eyes, always escaping before the blistering heat found its way to her, never having the ability to save even a single life, knowing it’ll cause a Nexus event and she would be discovered. She’s witnessed so many people’s death- people who gave her food, shelter, clothing, shared a laugh or two with the orphan child from Asgard- the poor, lost, scared, little Sylvie.

Now she’s here, and she’s not completely certain that she’s not going to die.

Yet, this is the most alive that she has ever felt.

Her grip on his hand tightens, and he squeezes in return. Mobius would have a field day if he was to walk out and see them like this now.

“Loki, if I don’t make it-” she begins.

He cuts her off firmly. “Don’t.” The thought of losing her has been on his mind since the moment he got pruned, and he doesn’t think he can handle the thought of losing her again.

“How did you feel when you got pruned before you could tell me what it was you wanted to tell me?”

He takes a moment to gather his thoughts. He knows what he wanted to say, but he doesn’t know yet what it was he was going to say. The words were about to roll off his tongue, and then it was gone. All hope, all possibilities of a future, snatched away in just a moment. “I felt distraught.” He confesses honestly.

“Exactly.” She sits up now, facing him directly, crawling out from under the blanket, but never letting go out of his hand. “If I don’t make it, I’ll feel the same way.”

His face clouds with hope and confusion at the same time. “What are you saying?”

She’s not sure. She’s learnt at least thirty-four different languages from her life in apocalyptic worlds, yet, no language has the words to capture quite how she feels.

“Sylvie?” He prompts again, daunted by the silence.

“Loki.” She says his name. Because that’s all there is. The one word. This is about him. Maybe it always has been, maybe all those poets and musicians and dreamers are right and your whole life does lead up to something.

Maybe her whole miserable, horrible, terrible life has been leading up to this.

This moment when she closes the gap between their lips.

Her eyes are wide open, just like his, and they are staring at each other, waiting to see how the other reacts.

Maybe this was a mistake, she thinks, but his lips press harder against hers.

It’s still just a tender, sweet peck, and their eyes are still open, but his hands give hers another squeeze. He pulls back and leans his forehead against her, making their noses brush.

And then his lips find hers with a fever that mirrors her own, and their eyes flutter shut.

She’s lived in apocalypses. She knows that worlds are dying at this very moment. And at the same moment, other worlds are being born out of this, this dance between their lips- a Nexus event that is creating new timelines, new life.

(Love is a dagger, indeed. And you can see yourself in it, after all. But when you reach for it, it doesn’t always disappear. Sometimes, it’s so very real.)

#sylvie x loki #sylvie laufeydottir #loki disney+#loki x sylvie #fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki #sylki fanfic

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this-world-of-beautiful-monsters · 2 years

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it’s hard for me to get lost in this town / but i try

Prompt: Can't Go Home

Sequel to make weep the eyes of day.

Title taken from the poem Lost by Robert W. Watson.

(warnings for suicidal thoughts, unreliable narrator, mental health issues, self-harm, past graphic violence, past abuse, past torture, self-esteem issues, self-loathing, injuries, thoughts of auto-cannibalism, PTSD)

You can find the whole collection on AO3 here.

The blood is dry on his knuckles by now.

Leo props his shell against a cold brick wall, pressing back far enough to hurt, just a little. He drags a finger across his hand, blood falling away in dull red chips. Pick, pick, pick, unravel the threads. Tug the cracked and useless pieces away, wash off the dirt. Prune. Purify. Punish.

God, he's so fucking melodramatic. Get on with it, he growls to himself and drags his nails down his wrist, scraping and rubbing at the bruised scales. His hands are damaged, vulnerable, and his nails are sharper than a human's. Leo can't remember the last time he cut them.

Blood wells up as he scratches his hand, stains his scales. Leo lifts his fingertip to his mouth and licks, tastes himself. He tastes like something bitter and dirty, the kind of poison that doesn't even bother to hide itself.

His stomach growls--he's been running for hours, banging himself bloody as he stumbled around through a veil of tears. It was long past dinner time before he found someplace uncomfortable enough to settle.

Did they have dinner? Were they grateful, maybe, that he wasn't there? Did Donnie and Raph try to outdo each other by telling stupid jokes to make Mikey laugh? Did they tell him that everything would be all right, that their crazy older brother would never hurt him again?

He doesn't think he's that lucky. To be honest, he should really keep moving, before they get it into their heads to try and track him down, but he's so tired, and maybe if he stays still long enough he can get the guts to take his swords and put an end to this.

Leo bites his fingertip, relishing the pain. Shredder once told him that fingertips are one of the most sensitive parts of the body, before slitting them open one by one. Afterwards, Leo had blinked back tears and held his hands out for more, relishing the opportunity to serve.

More blood in his mouth. How long could he have stayed up here in his little alcove, feeding on his flesh, drinking his own blood and tears? How long before he managed to devour himself entirely, chewing away like an Ouroboros until he made sure he could never hurt anyone over again?

"Leo?" Donnie's voice comes out of the shadows, careful yet certain all at once.

As it turns out, not very long.

Leo pulls his fingers from his mouth and watches his blood drip to the pavement, far below. He doesn't bother to ask how they found him. A tracking device, maybe, planted on him at one point or another so they wouldn't lose him again. Donnie hacking the cameras. Goddamn intuition, for all he knows.

"You need to go," he says, voice shaking ever so slightly. He won't look at them, can't take the risk. Maybe there will be hate in their eyes, the final impetus to drive him away, but he doubts it. "I'm not safe."

"Don't be ridiculous," Raph chimes in. Leo rolls his eyes, because of course Raph thinks he can handle him.

"I'm sorry, Leo." It's Mikey's voice that breaks his resolve, making Leo jerk his head in their direction. His heart stops at the sight of the bruises on his little brother's face, an ugly contrast to the way his big blue eyes plead.

"You're sorry?" But of course Mikey is, what did Leo expect? He lurches to his feet, hands shaking, trying to make him understand. "Mikey, I--I hurt you."

Mikey shakes his head firmly. "I fucked up. I violated your boundaries 'cause I forgot how you are with surprise touches, I knew better--"

“You knew better? God, you sound like every abused kid in this city." Leo barks a harsh laugh, although it sounds more like a sob.

"Don't say that," Mikey steps forward--Raph puts a hand on his shoulder, showing at least a bit of sense, but Mikey shakes up. "That's not what happened and you know it, Hamato Leonardo. You'd never hurt us, not on purpose."

"But I did." His voice is building towards frustration, desperate to make them understand. "I. Hurt. You."

Donnie takes a breath. "Leo, PTSD symptoms can include--"

"It's not a fucking symptom, Don! I'm dangerous!" His words build into a shriek and they stagger backward, eyes wide, caught off guard. Good. Maybe they'll finally fucking learn.

His hopes are dashed as Mikey lifts his head, eyes level. "So are we," he says quietly. "And we're not kids that fall apart at the first sign of trouble, not anymore." His eyes bore into Leo's, daring him to blink. "You can't scare us off."

Fuck. Leo looks away first, gazing out across the city skyline. He considers jumping, but they'd probably manage to catch him, and then they'd never let him go again.

"I can't go home," he says, trying to hold on to his draining resolve. He clenches his shaking fist, watching the blood rise to the surface of his cut. "I won't. And you can't make me."

Silence. Then Mikey's voice, soft, but determined: "Then I guess we'll just have to stay out here with you." He can hear them shifting, settling down, making themselves comfortable. Taking their stand.

Leo tilts his hand. Blood drips, drips, drips into the city's waiting mouth. Not enough, never enough, to make it all stop.

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joviewinchester · 3 years

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“You’re absolutely positive you can’t come with me?” Y/N asked Matt.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I work that day. Maybe you can ask Ty or Stefan or something.”

“Yep. Been there done that. Stefan has plans to hang out with Caroline and Tyler has another wedding to go to by some stupid twisted chance of fate. I hate June.”

“You can…well, I’m not even going to suggest that torture.” Matt said cutting himself off.

“What? Anything is better than the torture of my family trying to set me up with someone.”

“You could ask Damon, but then again, he’s literally the worst. I guess pick your poison. Damon Salvatore or wedding set up. Personally I’d go with the latter.”

Y/N patted Matt on the shoulder and sighed. “You don’t know my family.” She exited The Grill and reluctantly drove to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She knocked, and Damon immediately opened the door. “You know, I was wondering when the tension would catch up to you.” He smirked.

“That is not why I’m here, Damon. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

Y/N sighed and took a deep breath before starting her rant. “I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“And what do I get out of agreeing to this?”

“Um…I don’t know? The wedding is literally tomorrow and I have no other option so…I have no clue. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I’ll let you know when I figure out what that is. What time does this wedding start tomorrow?”

“Wedding’s from 5:00 to 6:00 and the reception’s from 6:30 to 10:00, unfortunately, I have to help with setup, so I have to be there three hours early, it was almost five luckily I got out of that, but I’m not going to make you deal with that, so I’ll leave from there early, come pick you up around 4:30. Dress nice…but not too nice. You’re already going to outshine the groom. My cousin does not know how to pick em.”

“That was a very trivial way of you saying you think I’m attractive. I’ll be ready, and don’t think I’ll forget that you owe me.”

“I wasn’t saying that! And I didn’t think you would forget. Not even for a second. And one more thing, please don’t eat any of my relatives.”

“Oh I’m not that bad. Why would I eat one of them when I could eat you?” He said eying her from head to toe.

“Stop making everything sexual! I’ll see you tomorrow!” She exclaimed as she brushed her hair to cover her red face.

He watched her as she walked back to her car, because let’s be honest with ourselves, he loved to see her walk away, then he shut the door and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“Did Y/N just ask you to her cousin’s wedding?” Stefan asked walking downstairs.

“Why yes she did, brother.”

“Then you’re welcome. I don’t actually have plans with Caroline tomorrow. I told her that so she’d ask you. Don’t screw it up.”

“Really Stefan? I could’ve gotten the girl on my own. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Y/N is different. She likes you, but she doesn’t like you just because she wants to sleep with you. She likes you because she wants to be in a relationship with you. If you don’t want that, then don’t lead her on. Promise me you won’t lead her on.”

“Do you really think that low of me, Stef?” Damon asked placing his palm over his chest.

“I won’t hurt her. Believe it or not, I actually like her, and tomorrow I’m going to be a perfect angel around her family, and she’ll have no choice but to invite me to another family event. I will be the best fake boyfriend. Mark my words.”

The next day was absolute torture for Y/N to say the least. “Y/N, Mark and Angela have to be seated near the back. They have not earned the status of front and center. Move the cards.” Her cousin, Allison, was normally really sweet, but she was an extreme bridezilla.

Y/N rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She expected for Allison to follow her every order when her wedding came around.

“So, Auntie Bethany has invited a really cool guy to set you up with. His name is Reggie and he’s so much nicer than the last one.” Allison said taking a minute to rest, which did not bother Y/N one bit.

“First of all, I’m eighteen which is freshly out of high school, I don’t know why she thinks it’s so urgent for me to settle down. Second of all, mom is going to be real disappointed because I actually have a boyfriend now and I invited him. I mentioned him a few weeks ago to you.”

“Now that you say that, I remember you mentioning it.” Yeah, she didn’t say a word, but Allison bought it and that’s all that mattered. She’d been pushing her to get a date since the wedding was announced.

“Speaking of which, it’s 4:00 and I told him I’d be there to pick him up at 4:30. You don’t mind me leaving a bit early do you?”

“No. Of course not. Chloe, Lilly, and Amy will help me finish my makeup then I should be all ready! Can’t wait to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours.”

Y/N waved at the other bridesmaids, who all glared back at her for leaving them alone, and got in her car to get Damon. She knocked.

“Just a minute!” She heard him call. He opened the door a couple minutes later.

She smiled brightly. “You look great.” She said.

“Yeah, and you look…gorgeous. Your cousin was very generous with the bridesmaids dresses.” Damon commented.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2847398

“Come on. If we’re late I will not hear the end of it.”

Once they arrived, there were literally like five minutes till the start of the wedding. “Shit.” She muttered. “Just sit down and avoid eye contact at all costs. I really wish she hadn’t made me a bridesmaid.” Y/N muttered the last part and got to her place.

The ceremony lasted forever. The only thing that made it tolerable was watching Damon mess with the dude sitting next to him.

“Oh my god. That was literally the longest wedding ever. Why the hell did she force us to wear heels?”

“On the bright side, you were definitely the hottest bridesmaid up there.”

She elbowed his side playfully. “Oh shut up. Now come on, we need to get going. If we’re late to the reception, my mom will kill me. I haven’t even got to talk to her yet.” Y/N to practically dragged Damon to the car.

Of course the reception was about as cliche as the ceremony. It was held in a big old barn decorated with fairy lights.

“There’s my mom. Come on, act coupley or whatever, and be on your best behavior would you?”

“Oh, Y/N I’m hurt. When am I not?” He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at his antics.

“Hey, mom.”

Her mother looked kind of upset. “Come on, Y/N. You should’ve told me you were bringing a date. Reggie is going to be disappointed.” Her mother motioned backwards towards a guy who was already making out with another bridesmaid.

“Yeah…that him? He doesn’t seem too upset. I wouldn’t worry about it. Mom, this is Damon, my boyfriend.”

They shook hands. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much, and can I just say, you look lovely this evening. Speaking of which, where’s the lucky man?”

“Oh, he’s just over there talking to the groom. I’m glad that Y/N has finally gotten a boyfriend. I was starting to think she was going to be single forever.”

“Mom, cool it, will you? I’m eighteen years old. I just enrolled in college. I’m not getting married anytime soon. I know that’s how people in our family usually do it, but I don’t want to be married and have three kids running around by the time I’m twenty five. Okay?”

“You may feel that way now, dear, but wait until the baby fever catches up to you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I need a drink.” She mumbled with hostility.

“Y/N Y/M/N! You are not drinking any alcohol!” Her mother scolded after her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. You just have fun. Raising a girl with that attitude must have kept you away from fun quite a bit.” Bethany laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Damon followed Y/N to the open bar, and found her with a wine glass filled to the very top.

“Dude, first of all you aren’t even of age, and second of all, do you really want to get drunk at a relative’s wedding? Answer, no. No you don’t.”

“You don’t know what I want, Damon. Just go charm off the pants of another middle aged woman.”

“I’m trying to be a perfect fake boyfriend so your mom will get off your back. Did you already drink one of these?” He asked taking the glass from her hands and swirling it around.

“Yeah, duh. Did you meet my mom? She makes it her mission to control every aspect of her life. I love her, but some alchohol would really help me love her even more. Here gimme that.” She said grabbing the glass from his hand. She downed the whole thing in one go as if it was just a shot glass.

“Y/F/N! No! You are banned from this bar for the rest of the night. Come on.” He hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Damon...what are you doing? You’re supposed to be the least responsible one in this fake relationship.” She whined.

“No. I’m supposed to be like a real boyfriend which means I have to keep you out of trouble and do everything I can to make your parents like me which is what I’m doing.”

“Come on. Just let me walk. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”

“No.” Y/N huffed.

“Fine. If you want some douchebags looking up my dress then whatever.”

“Fine! Okay fine. I’ll put you down, but only because I’m your douchebag, and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise.”

They ran back into Y/N’s parents.

“Did you get her away from the bar before she went psycho?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked.

“No. I took away the wine glass and she took it back and chugged it.” Damon said glaring at her.

“I’m fine. See?” She walked in a straight line.

“Oh come on Bethany. Lighten up. If you think she isn’t too young to get married then don’t you think in that mindset that she isn’t too young to drink alcohol.” Her father, Chris, said.

Y/N snapped and pointed at her dad. “Yeah. He’s totally right? Ready to admit that eighteen is too young for someone to get married?”

“Fine. It’s too young. Now no more drinks for the rest of the night, missy.”

She smiled triumphantly, but then she started sulking again. “Rest of the night? As in I have to stay here for the rest of the night and not drink anything?”

“Fine. You can leave like an hour early, but come talk to me before you leave. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Y/N smirked. “I thought you wanted grandkids?” Her dad choked on his drink.

“Y/N!”

“Kidding. I’m obviously kidding…mostly. Bye!”

“You’re a lot of fun when you’re not avoiding being killed by some type of villain. I like you when you’re not in serious mode.”

“I’m so so sorry that I don’t have any witchy woo or an immortal life, but you do have to admit, I am amazing with a crossbow.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure you are. Even though you’ve almost hit me multiple times.”

“Exactly. I’m amazing with a crossbow. By the way, Allison wanted to meet you. We should get that over with.”

“Okay. That was uncalled for. You can’t just change the subject after admitting to trying to murder me multiple times.”

“You would have healed. What do you want me to do? Fall at your feet like Elena?” Y/N asked clearly passive aggressive.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Stop walking for a second. Are you jealous of Elena?”

“What?! No. Why would I be? I don’t…I don’t even like you!”

“This wedding has proved that statement otherwise. Come on. Admit it. You. Are. Jealous. You want to get with all of this! You want to go for a ride on the Salvatore train!”

“No! No! No! I don’t! I don’t like you! I don’t want you! You... you infuriate me to no end!”

“But you like that don’t you? You like it when I get you all flustered. And don’t think I didn’t catch you blushing earlier when I called myself yours, given I said I was your douchebag, but you still blushed. Not to mention the fact that you put my hand back on your waist when we were walking back from the bar. You like me.”

“No I don’t! Everything that happened here was for show! It was for show.” She defended.

“The only reason you didn’t want to invite me to this wedding is because you knew that I would get your heart racing. Yeah. I can hear that.”

Y/N ran her hands over her face in frustration. “Oh. Don’t mess up your makeup. I can do that for you later.” Damon smirked. So what? His plan to be perfect didn’t last very long, but this plan seemed to be working just fine.

“Stop. Stop saying stuff like that.” She whisper shouted.

Damon leaned in. His mouth was only inches away from her ear. “Why? Does it…frustrate you?”

Y/N gave him a glare and crossed her arms, huffing. Damon smirked. She grabbed his wrist and took him outside.

Damon still had a smug look on his face. “You wanna know how you really make me feel? Yes, Damon! Yes you fucking frustrate me! You make me question my existence on a daily basis and sometimes I even wonder why me?! Why does he like me?! I’m no Elena. I’m not the perfect annoying ass girl next door, and I still don’t know the answer, but you know what?! Since you’re deciding to push me and push me until I explode, I love you, Damon Salvatore! I fucking love you!”

After seconds of tension filled silence and staring at each other, Damon smashed his lips against hers. She immediately kissed him back. She felt his hands gradually slide further down her back, until they were groping her ass. She pushed him away out of spite. “No.” She stated crossing her arms defiantly.

“Really? You’re going to be like this? Now?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Say it back and maybe I’ll be more lenient.” She sassed.

“I thought it was a given. I’ve literally been flirting with you and pining after you for months, Y/N. Of course I love you.”

“Was that so hard?” She joked. She leaned in to kiss him again, this time resting his hands on her butt. He squeezed her ass making her gasp, and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. This isn’t your honeymoon Y/N.” Allison had walked out of her own reception looking for her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry Alli. So what’s up?” Y/N asked slightly out of breath.

“Well, I was promised that I could meet your mystery man, but you were nowhere to be found. I decided to look for you myself. Aunt Bethany was complaining about your grandkids joke earlier. I didn’t think you were serious.” She joked.

“So, this is Damon. Damon this is my cousin, Allison.”

“Nice to finally meet you. By the way Y/N, I connected the dots, and I realized after getting out of the point where I was completely freaking out, sorry about that by the way, that this is the same Damon that you literally used to call me just to complain about on the daily.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not bring that up, especially the things that I said…” Allison cut her off.

“She used to call me and talk about how annoying you were. I believe one time she called you a flaming douche nozzle? That sounds about right. Every single call always ended with her saying he is so infuriatingly attractive. It’s not even fair.” She knew she was embarrassing her cousin, and to be honest she loved it.

“Hey! He doesn’t need an ego boost! Trust me. I would know.”

“Okay. Okay. All jokes aside, if you are leaving, your mom and dad wanted to talk to you. Oh, and I won’t tell them about this little encounter. I know how they can be.” Allison winked and walked back in the building.

“Was it just me, or did we just get permission from the bride to leave? Come on we have got to hurry up and talk to my parents so we can get out of here.”

“What’s got you in such a rush to leave?” Damon winked.

“None of that. Stop. No. No. Bad.” She said pointing her finger at him.

“Relax. I won’t be myself, but only for you.” They walked back into the reception making a bee line to her parents.

“Hey mom, we’re about to head out.”

“Y/N, your lipstick is a little smudged.” Her mom said. Damon had to look away to stop himself from laughing.

“Huh. Is it? Must’ve been from where I got a drink. Anywho I love you guys and we will see you later.”

“Wait a second. Damon would you like to come over for dinner this Friday?”

“Of course. I’d love to Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Great. We cannot wait to see you again. Alright. I won’t keep you. Have a nice night.” They both waved goodbye to her parents and headed back to the Salvatore house. They walked in, and Damon poured a couple of glasses of bourbon.

“I have been accepted by your family. I’d say this calls for celebration.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink, dad.”

“Oh shut up. You can do whatever the hell you want when your parents aren’t there to witness it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, and flopped on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep no matter what you say.”

“Come on then.”

“Where?”

“If you’re going to sleep then you’re coming with me to a comfy bed, not the couch.” Instead of waiting for her to reapond or get up, he slug her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.

“Goodnight, Damon.” She said sleepily.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

#damon salvatore #the vampire diaries #matt donovan #the vampire diares imagine #tvd imagine #tvd #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore x reader

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solarwonux · 3 years

Text

Lucky || Joshua

Dad!Joshua x f!reader

w.c: 3.0k

warnings: mentions of suggestive themes, mentions of pregnancy

note: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays today on this fine night I bring you Joshua Hong as a father let’s all cry together thank you very much. I hope you like it let me know your thoughts <3

pspspspsp: @sunlightwoo it’s back hehe

masterlist

“Are you and momma still friends?” Joshua’s daughter questioned tilting her head to the side, clinging on to his neck as the waves crashed around them. Joshua grinned and pushed back her beach hair. “Of course sweetheart why are you asking?” He wiped her running nose with the back of his hand before splashing a small amount of water in her direction. An annoyed expression forming on her face reminding him of the similar scold you had given him hours ago.

“She put you in time out.” She shrugged and reached to the side of Joshua’s body. Cupping her hands underneath the clear blue water before throwing it in his direction missing his face completely. “That wasn’t very nice sweetheart.” He chuckled. A wave crashed pushing them back slightly causing his hold on her to get tighter.

She pouted and pushed his face away, turning her attention to where you and his mother were sunbathing. “You made momma mad, that wasn’t very nice either.” She argued and pinched his arm, a mannerism she had inherited from you and the only thing that you did that he hated. But no matter how much your pinches hurt, because they did. He couldn’t imagine living his life without your stupid quirk.

“Momma’s not mad anymore though.” Joshua smirked and attacked her cheek with kisses, whines fell out of her mouth. Eyes burned holes in the side of his and he knew you were sending him your infamous glares. The ones that could send him six feet underground, that is if looks could kill and being married to you would’ve sent him underground years ago. He was thankful they couldn’t.

“She said you were in time out for three days.” She held up her hand signaling four with her fingers. Numbers weren’t her forte. You and Joshua had tried everything to get her to understand that three and four were two completely different numbers but she was at an age where listening wasn’t something she liked to do. The two of you figured she’d eventually figure it on her own, though sometimes Joshua suspected she was doing it on purpose. Her teasing attitude was another thing she had inherited from you making Joshua’s list longer by the second. “One less finger bubs.” He brought his hand out and pushed down her pinky to form three with her small fingers. A smirk appeared on her face as she raised it again only proving Joshua’s suspicions.

“Okay love, but momma isn’t mad at me anymore.” He stated confidently meeting your eyes only to have you send him the middle finger making his mother laugh beside you. He silently cursed but thanked god that your daughter wasn’t looking because the questions would’ve been endless. And he had barely survived the where do babies come from interrogation last week.

He knew you were still mad at him. You were fuming to the point that you were giving the summer sun a run for its money. But he had a plan, one he was sure would have you forgiving him in seconds. Only problem was the little demon in his arms innocently playing with the water surrounding the two of them--hated sleeping in her own bed. And he couldn’t ask his mother to look after her tonight because she had taken your side in the stupid fight.

In conclusion he was in a bit of a pickle.

Half an hour, that’s how long it took him to put his daughter to bed. She had requested a bedtime story, Joshua over the moon had no problem in reading one to her. But then when he was done she had requested another one and this time he had to act out every single character while she judged his performance. This had gone on for half an hour until finally her breathing got steady and she was fast asleep. How the beach hadn’t tired her out was a mystery he would eventually solve one day.

Joshua carefully turned off the lights and placed her favorite stuffed animals around her, so that when she woke up she would be met with a familiar set of faces. He tiptoed out of the room and turned off the lights. Taking a quick glance around the room, making sure nothing was out of place and that her night lights were on before carefully closing the door. His body cringed at the sound of squeaking hinges and he swore he had stopped breathing while he stood there in the dark hallway, motionless. His ears perked up to see if he could hear any sound of movement from the other side of the door and once he was sure his daughter was still fast asleep he quietly made his way to your shared bedroom.

“She’s asleep, let’s hope she doesn’t end up in our bed tonight.” Joshua walked over to where you were standing in front of your small vanity that also doubled up as a dresser. “We wouldn’t be trying to break this habit if you hadn’t insisted on her sleeping with us for the last few months.” Joshua let out an inaudible groan knowing very well he was the one at fault. “How am I supposed to say no when she asks with that sweet innocent voice and then gives me the look?” He eyed you through the mirror before wrapping his arms around your waist. His chin resting against your shoulder while you applied your eye cream gently. “It’s like she knows my weaknesses and then uses it against me.”

“It’s not that hard to break you Joshua.” You met his stare through the mirror, a knowing smirk forming against your lips. You sent him a wink before grabbing your cherry flavored chapstick and slowly applied it on your lips. The action sending shivers up his spine, his mind racing as he imagined your lips on his. The thought of the bitter sweetness of the cherry flavor hitting his taste buds made his mouth water. But alas you were still mad at him and his plan hadn’t gone in full effect yet. Patience is what he needed.

“Are you still mad at me?” He pouted slightly making you shake your head in annoyance. You huffed at his obvious question and removed his arms from your waist, pushing him away gently before making your way to your side of the bed. “I already apologized, what more do you want me to do?” He threw his hands in the air before letting them fall to his sides in defeat.

“You lost my necklace the one you gave me when our daughter was born, sorry’s not gonna bring it back.” You took off the many throw pillows that decorated the bed and threw them on the floor. Usually you would put them on the lounge chair by the window but tonight you couldn’t be bothered.

“I already told you I’d buy you a new one.” He groaned and walked over to his side of the bed peeling back the covers, stopping when he saw the tears start to roll down your face, his plan long forgotten.

Lately your mood swings were giving him a hard time and although he suspected why, he wasn’t sure if he should bring it up when the thought hadn’t even crossed your own mind. At least that’s what he concluded when you hadn’t brought it up. “It’s not the same Joshua, I know it’s stupid to hold such sentimental value over something so miniscule but it meant a lot to me and you lost it.” Joshua sighed letting the sheets go and crawled on top of the bed, kneeling in front of you and bringing his hands up to your face.

“Baby I swear I thought I had put it in the pocket of my coat when you gave it to me.” He wiped away your tears gently and placed a kiss on your forehead. “It was there when we left the reception. I even called Minghao to see if the venue had contacted him but he didn’t pick up.”

“Of course he’s not going to pick up, he's on his honeymoon, Joshua.” You sniffed and blinked rapidly trying to keep the tears at bay. “My point still stands, I’ve looked everywhere for it.” He sighed and wrapped an arm around your waist as he brought you close. Your knees hit the edge of the bed making them buckle, your body landing on top of Joshua’s as he laid the two of you down gently.

“Did you check your car?” You raised an eyebrow locking your eyes with his tender ones. His eyes grew wide and faint blush creeped on his cheeks as he recalled the very inappropriate events that went down in the passenger seat on your way home from the reception. “N-No the thought didn’t even cross my mind.” He cleared his throat, your face breaking into a smile as you removed yourself from his embrace and laid back, letting your body sink into the softness of your bed.

“I knew you hadn’t checked everywhere.” You placed your arms underneath your head watching the ceiling fan. He was chewing the bottom lip as the realization finally washed over him a very annoyed groan fell out of his lips as he dropped his head. “When did you find it?”

You laughed and moved so your body was now facing his defeated one. “Right after we dropped off your mother at her house. It was peeking out from underneath the back seat as I was putting bubs in her car seat.” You placed a hand underneath his chin and raised it. “This a new form of torture. I’ve been suffering all day today.” Joshua whined snaking his arm around your waist and pulled himself up so his chest was against yours. “I deserve an apology?” He pouted before pecking your lips.

“I’ll think about it, right now I’m exhausted.” You grinned and pushed your hand through his dark locks leaning up and kissing his nose. “I want to keep talking to you. You barely said a word to me all day and watched me suffer. I’m in a drought come and save me.” He finished and cuddled himself further into your body, his head on your chest. You giggled scratching his scalp, small satisfied sighs escaping his lips.

When you and Joshua first met on a disastrous blind date set up by your mutual friends where he accidentally spilled wine all over your new white dress, marriage was definitely not in the cards. But nothing is ever set in stone and you should’ve known his charm would win you over when he walked you home that night. Silence raining over the two of you except for the sweet apologies he would spew out every few minutes, thus beginning your loving journey together.

“What are you thinking about?” Joshua whispered drumming his fingers down the side of your body before resting them on top of your stomach. “How dramatic you are.” You joked wrapping your arms around his neck. He hummed and cuddled himself further into your body placing a gentle peck against the skin of your collarbone. “I think you might’ve rubbed off on me then.”

You giggled feeling his hand rub soothing circles against your stomach. A smile played against his lips and you wondered if he knew the secret you had been carrying for the past two weeks. It had started out as a suspicion when the food at Minghao’s wedding had made you sick. Then your emotions started getting the best of you, snapping and crying over everything and anything. When his mother came over to visit and noticed your weird cravings she had made you take a test while Joshua ran to the grocery for some parsley his mother had asked for. He didn’t question it. He had no reason to since his mother had insisted on cooking dinner for the four of you that night. But when he noticed the parsley had been left untouched in the fridge his suspicions started to grow.

He had been oddly observant lately, doing everything with caution, putting your daughter to bed every night a task you usually did and no problem in doing. Acting out all the characters in the story for your daughter was one of your favorite past times. He had insisted that you needed to rest, claiming he didn’t want you to stress out too much and just relax. So you expected he knew and was just waiting for you to tell him so he could finally celebrate. You had to admit it was fun seeing Joshua walk around as if he were avoiding the cracks on the sidewalk and the unsolicited back massages were to die for but you couldn’t keep living like you didn’t know he already knew. As clueless as he had acted, he hadn’t done a very good job at it. And After your secret doctor’s visit yesterday confirming what you had already known, you had been dying to tell him.

“Cut the shit Joshua, when did you find out?” You looked down at him as he smiled widely causing you to roll your eyes. His insides bubbling up with joy as he laid back facing the popcorn ceiling. “You aren’t very good at hiding things. I found the test a week ago when I opened your bathroom drawer looking for the tiny rubber bands to finish our bub’s hair.” He turned his face sending you a playful wink. You groaned running a hand through your face, finally realizing that your plan of total secrecy was a total bust.

“And our daughter can’t keep secrets no matter how many green gummy bears you give her before dinner.”

“I knew it was a little weird when she asked for just green gummy bears. She’s never liked them.” You nodded and grabbed Joshua’s hand. You brought it up to your lips and kissed each of his knuckles gently before resting on the side of your neck, scooting yourself closer to his warm body. “But I do, really honey you should’ve known better.” He smiled and pinched your cheek gently before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. He kissed you slowly at first, the kiss getting deeper by the second as he rolled you onto your back and carefully straddled your hips.

Joshua smirked the taste of your cherry chapstick hitting his tongue making his mind run wild. Slowly he pulled away and kissed down your neck, making his way down your clothed body not caring that small pieces of lint were getting stuck on his plump lips. He rolled your shirt up and sent you a wink before peppering kissing over your soon to be growing belly. Excitement was an understatement and he couldn’t wait to show you how much he truly loved you making a mental note to shower you with more love than usual. His plan finally going into action as he heard your soft sighs escape your lungs.

“Mommy is daddy out of time out?” The two of you panicked and you pushed Joshua off your body making him fall off the bed landing on the hardwood floor with a painful groan. Your daughter laughed hard at her father’s pain while she climbed up on the bed before sitting down next to you. “He’s on probation, baby.” You stuck out your tongue at Joshua who was looking at you rubbing his lower back. “And when were you going to tell me he knew about baby bean?” You raised an eyebrow at her. Her eyes grew wide with realization and launched herself at you hugging you tightly.. “I’m sorry momma, daddy said he’d take me to see uncle Hannie if I didn’t say anything.” She sent her father an evil look and he knew he had lost this argument just like all the other ones.

“It’s okay baby.” You kissed her temple and pulled away taking her pouting face in your hands making your heart clench. “I can’t believe you Joshua bribing our daughter into secrecy.” You scoffed. Joshua looked at the ceiling wondering what decision in life he had made that lead him up to this moment where his favorite girls were ganging up on him again.

“That’s not fair you did the same thing?” He stood up and sent you an accusatory finger making you gasp out in shock. Your daughter copying your mannerisms. “I did no such thing right baby?” You looked down at your daughter who had taken it upon herself to get under the sheets and cuddle up to your side. “That’s right momma’s innocent.”

“I should’ve known the odds were forever going to be against me when I met you.”

“It’s what you signed up for.”

“Yeah and I wouldn’t change it for the world no matter how many times the two of you gang up on me.” He smiled and stood up before quickly jogging over to his side of the bed and laying down. He wrapped an around you and your daughter bringing the two of you close humming happily. Your daughter squirming as she tried her best to let herself lose which only made Joshua’s arm grow tighter.

“But make no mistake one day I will get my revenge.” He sent you a wink before reaching over and pecking your lips lightly and then your daughter’s forehead and laid back. “Baby bean is gonna be on my side and I can’t wait.”

“Don’t get too confident, I don't want you to end up disappointed.”

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moomingitz · 3 years

Text

It’s... interesting looking back at the Jak and Daxter series, because when the second and third games first came out during my edgy teen years my mindset for them was mostly, “OMG Jak is now a buff and rugged edgy boi, he’s saying curse words, and has a literal edgy dark side to him. And Daxter is a big playboi who doesn’t hide his love for bewbs. Jak and Daxter is no longer for babies but for mature big kids like me!”

But looking at the series now; Holy shit, Jak has had it rough. Where do I even begin? This is going to be long, so get comfortable:

First, Jak was ripped away from his father at a very young age due to an insurrection. Then he was kidnapped by one of the people who was responsible for it, with the intention of being used to awaken some ancient Precursor technology, but luckily he somehow escaped and then was taken in by a rebellion group.

Then he was sent back into the past to be raised by Samos, the Sage of Green Eco. While that was a good thing for Jak, since he was able to grow up in a loving and supportive environment, what happened to him before that is something that would still be traumatic to a little kid especially in the form of something like Separation Anxiety. While this goes into headcanon territory, I can’t help but wonder if that had a lot to do with why Jak was the mostly silent type before the events of the second game. But thankfully he was lucky to grow up with two best friends like Daxter and Keira.

Surely you think that would be the end of misfortune Jak would have to go through. Wrong!

Fast forward to where he’s now 15 years old and everything seems all good and exciting after he and Daxter saved the world from Dee Snider and his twisted sister. Sure they didn’t accomplish what they set out for by turning Daxter back into his old humanoid self, by Daxter is content staying as a furry anyway. At least they saved the world and found some ancient Precursor technology. But hold up! Turns out it was some kind of rift gate and the moment they activated it some giant bug monster pops out and they’re all separated and thrown into some new place they’ve never seen.

Literal seconds later, before Jak or Daxter have any time to react or process what exactly just happened and where they ended up, Jak is immediately arrested and knocked unconscious, despite doing nothing wrong. He’s then tortured and experimented on for the next two years, in hopes of turning him into a living weapon by pumping Dark Eco into him. Keep in mind Jak was only 15-16 years old during those nightmarish two years of his life. But his BFF Daxter never gave up looking for him and eventually rescued Jak.

Upon busting out Jak has no damn idea where exactly he is, and when he does it turns out him and Daxter are now in a totalitarian, police state of a hellhole where never ending propaganda is blared everywhere you go, and where Jak’s only crime is just existing. Oh, and there’s currently an ongoing war between this police state regime ruling the city and some species called Metal Heads, so the territory outside the city is near inhospitable. So just simply leaving Haven City isn’t really an option. It’s either deal with the Krimson Gaurd who will get on you for just sneezing in the wrong direction, or claw your way for survival outside the city walls.

Until finding Samos and Kiera much later, Daxter is the only familiar and welcoming face Jak still had until then(the only exception being Sig in the “welcoming face” department).

Oh, and it turns out those Dark Eco experiments gave JAk some dark Hulk like form that he has trouble controlling(at least that’s what the game tells us). Oh, and they eventually learn that this shithole place they found themselves in is actually their home 500 years into the future. Oh, and it turns that this little kid they’ve been having to protect from both the Krimson Guard and the Metal Head army is actually Jak’s younger self.

Despite all that, the rebellion group and many of the criminals they had to work with eventually warm up and even become their friends, the authoritarian regime eventually crumbles, and they kill the Metal Head leader. Even though Jak doesn’t go back to his childhood home in the past, Keira, Samos, and Daxter choose to stay with him in the future, so he’s definitely not alone in the end. Happy ending earned, and that should be the end of all the bad stuff to happen in Jak’s life, right?...

Of course that wouldn’t be the end of bad traumatic shit to happen to Jak!

Right after the events of the second game, Jak is not only blamed for the fallout of the Praxis regime falling and the Metal Head army’s demise, but he’s outright banished to the Wasteland, no thanks to some weasely council member, Veger.

But ya boi Daxter snuck out to join Jak in his exile, so at least Jak still has his best friend with him. Jak now has to survive in a Mad Max esque land after proving himself worthy to Damas, the leader of some refuge village. But it’s kind of good because he slowly gets on this guy’s good graces.

Oh, but later on it turns out this Damas guy is actually the very father Jak was forcibly separated from during his very early childhood. But, Jak only figured that out just as Damas was dying, and he didn’t have a chance to tell Damas that he was his son that’s he’s been wanting to find for years.

It also turns out this Veger douchebag was one of the people aside from Baron Praxis who was responsible for Jak being separated from Dadmas, and was the guy who kidnapped him in an attempt use him to obtain that ancient Precursor technology.

Of course everything works out in the end. But yeah... You see what I mean? Jak was put through the wringer during the events of this whole trilogy! He's done nothing wrong! Yet starting from a very young age he’s either been targeted or dragged into other’s messes for just existing, or for something he had no choice to do in order to survive. The only real thing he did wrong was dragging Daxter over to Misty Island, which led to him being accidentally transformed into an ottsel in the first place. But the events of the first games was all a lighthearted adventure anyway. Aside from that it’s been one unfortunate or traumatic event after another for Jak.

When letting everything Jak went through really sink in, there’s guaranteed trauma and the resulting PTSD this poor guy is going to have to address or else it will inevitably manifest itself in some way later on. Acting gruff and blase' will only work for so long. I know some people get tired with pieces of fiction being compared to Steven Universe, but Steven’s eventual mental breakdown seriously came to mind. And some people will say, “It’s just a vidya game, stop thinking too much into it.”, but there was a conscious decision to take this series into a more dark and mature direction after the first game. So, it’s a bit hard not to think about more possible unpleasant implications based on what happened in the sequels, especially when looking at the events of the games through the lenses of today.

Taking all of this into consideration is also why I think Daxter is seriously the “MVP” of the series.

Daxter grew up being Jak’s best friend, which I’m sure helped Jak a lot after being separated from his father and taken to a literal place in time completely different and unfamiliar to him. I’m very sure his time growing up in Sandover Village and hanging out with Daxter was the best period of Jak’s life. Even after Jak dragged him to Misty Island, accidentally causing him to be transformed into an ottsel, and sacrificing his chance to be turned back to normal in order to save the world, Daxter showed no hard feelings towards Jak and he even learns to like being an ottsel.

He spent two years trying to find out where Jak was being held prisoner in Haven City, and infiltrated the place once he did and helped Jak escape.

And despite not having any fingers pointed towards him for the fallout after the events of the second game, Daxter still chooses to join Jak in exile in the Wasteland.

Daxter has never shown any ill will towards Jak despite him being the one responsible for being turned into an ottsel, and he’s never really abandoned him even when he is given many chances to or a way to get himself out of really bad situations. Despite everything, Daxter is still the same quippy, upbeat dork of a friend Jak has grown up with.

I really believe Daxter helped a lot with keeping Jak’s sanity intact during all of the hell he was put through and beyond. If there was a guaranteed way for someone to sign their own death warrant with Jak, I think harming or outright killing Daxter would be it.

#Jak and Daxter #Jak II #Jak 3 #Daxter #Damas

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

Non-Sequential [Ch. 29]

Pairing: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers/Steve Rogers x Reader

One night, Steve Rogers met a beautiful dame named Y/N. He hadn’t intended on letting her get away. But fate had other ideas. Y/N appeared and disappeared in his life so hauntingly that Steve started to wonder if she was an angel meant to watch over him.

Word Count: 2,500

Chapter 28

The next 5 years simultaneously felt like they were moving too fast and too slowly.

Steve wondered if there would be limited visits from Y/N or if this was the rest of his life: just holding onto the past and praying that the next time she would stay for good.

But he knew that would never happen.

She would always leave.

Steve felt like he had returned to his teenage years when Y/N had first started visiting him. But watching her go now hurt a 100 times worse than back then. During that time, he hadn’t acknowledged that he loved her. He didn’t know what it was like to fully have her.

What he would give to regain that naivety. He didn’t know how much longer he could handle such torture.

When Y/N did visit the present, Steve tried to seize it as much as he could. He tried to act normal, wait for Y/N to ask the questions so he could figure out what she knew and what she didn’t. By some miracle, she always knew about the snap.

Steve felt lucky, he wouldn’t know how to handle her naivety to how she would die. Nat always told him he was a terrible liar. He could only assume lying to the woman he loved would be even worse.

Steve was sitting at his window, staring out at Brooklyn. There was a steaming cup of coffee in his hand and he was waiting for it to cool down. The sun had just rose past the horizon. Most of the city was still sleeping. He started to enjoy watching it slowly wake up. It was one of the very few joys he found these days.

“Steve?” Her voice whispered from behind him.

He jumped at the sound, shooting to his feet and turning around.

In the process, he spilled some of the coffee on his hand and bare feet.

He hissed at the burn.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry!” Y/N rushed forward.

Steve was both so surprised to see her and feel the boiling liquid on his skin that he didn’t realize Y/N was still completely naked.

“I’m fine. It’s OK.” He tried to tell her, only looking into her eyes.

One time Sam asked about the binding nudity that came with Y/N’s time traveling. He asked about it in a way that wasn’t really a question, but like he clearly wanted Steve to comment on it.

“Just so we’re clear, you’re asking what I think about my girlfriend being forced to be naked when she’s also forced to time travel at any given moment to a place she doesn’t know? Did I get that right?” He’d said it with the classic Steve Rogers sass.

But Sam got the point and never brought it up again.

Y/N’s nudity wasn’t something sexualized by Steve. He’d grown used to it. He assumed most people saw their naked wives and girlfriends, and only linked it to sex. But all it did for Steve was remind him of Y/N’s vulnerability.

Her skin was unprotected from the elements. That’s why she had almost frozen to death during the first time she ever traveled.

Her skin attracted unwanted attention. Steve would never forget when Y/N appeared at his military camp, standing innocently in front of an army that hadn’t felt a woman’s touch or seen a female body in months. He didn’t like to think what could’ve happened if Bucky hadn’t been there to look out for her.

Her skin reminded Steve that even though she didn’t don a uniform, there was still something about her that forced her to be different from the world – just like him.

Now her skin told Steve that she was much younger.

There was no scar from getting shot during the Battle at the Triskelion, a scar on her abdomen from the medical team at the compound digging out a bullet. Then there were the scars that should’ve been scattered across her skin from when she was tortured by Hydra. Thanks to Wakandan medicine, they were almost invisible. But Steve was familiar enough with Y/N’s body that he could still just barely point them out. Those were nowhere to be seen either.

Which meant that the Y/N standing in front of Steve was from a much younger time.

“Did we…did we break up?” Y/N’s lip trembled as her eyes filled with tears.

Steve stepped forward. “What? Why would you think that?”

Her eyes looked around the room. “None of my stuff is here. It doesn’t even look like I live here.”

But it was true. There was hardly any personality to his Brooklyn apartment. Anyone that knew Y/N would expect her apartment to be filled with warmth, and the perfect lighting, and everything that made a home intimate and charming.

“Steve, did we break up?” Y/N’s voice shook as she repeated the question.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks and Steve couldn’t handle it anymore.

He closed the distance between them and pulled her into his body.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he muttered. “It’s OK. We didn’t break up.”

At least he didn’t technically have to lie about that.

She pulled away from being tucked into his body to look at his face. “What is this place?” It was still obvious she didn’t exist in this space.

“We just bought it,” Steve was quick on his feet. “It came furnished and we haven’t moved all of our stuff in yet.”

Y/N seemed to believe him. “Where am I?”

“You’re away on a freelance job.”

She nodded, processing the new information.

“Would you like some clothes?” He asked her gently.

Y/N laughed lightly, apparently having forgotten that she was fully naked.

She sniffled, trying to clear her nose and nodded.

A few minutes later, Y/N was in Steve’s sweats, sitting at his kitchen island with her own coffee cupped between her palms.

“I’m sorry – again – that I scared you into spilling coffee on yourself,” she winced.

Steve chuckled. “Y/N, believe it or not, I’ve suffered much worse injuries than hot coffee burns.”

“Right,” she smiled. “You’ve just casually been shot a few times and survived a plan crash.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Amongst other things.”

“Amongst other things,” Y/N agreed and repeated back.

A peaceful silence settled between them.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You know, I don’t believe you.”

“About the hot coffee?”

“About us not being broken up,” Y/N confirmed.

Steve just tightened his jaw. He didn’t know how much more he could lie to her.

Y/N slowly stood up and closed the distance between them. When she was in his space, she carefully reached up to brush his cheek with her thumb.

“Your eyes… they’re so sad. And they get even sadder every time you look at me.”

“We’re on a break,” Steve quickly told her. He hoped a half lie would save him.

Y/N nodded. And he knew that she believed that one.

She opened her mouth to ask more.

“Please, don’t ask me to say more about it,” Steve begged.

Y/N just nodded.

But then she stepped even closer to him. “Do you miss me?” She whispered as her gaze flickered down to his lips.

Steve’s chest hurt from the question alone. Present and future Y/N had never prepared him for having interactions like this.

He just nodded his head, knowing that if he tried to say actual words then he’d just let out some pathetic whimper.

Y/N leaned even closer. Her gaze flickered to his, silently asking him if he wanted her to stop.

But Steve didn’t have that sort of self control.

So Y/N kissed him.

And he felt her surprise when he responded with a hunger she didn’t expect.

Without hesitation, he pulled her closer. But it still wasn’t enough. Then his hands slid down the outside of her thighs and then gripped the back of them. He scooped her up and pulled her hips to his waist, holding her there until she realized she needed to wrap her legs around him. But it still wasn’t enough.

He pulled away from the kiss. “Do you want me to stop?” His words struggled while he also tried to catch his breath.

Y/N gave him a shy smile and shook her head before giving him a sweet and precise peck on the lips.

“No, I don’t.” Then she laughed, “But maybe we could move this to the bedroom.”

Even if she wasn’t his in this time period, Y/N still knew what Steve needed. And she was more than willing to give it to him.

——————————

Steve always got this guilty feeling after sleeping with a version of Y/N that wasn’t her present self. No matter how many times Y/N told him it wasn’t, Steve could always convince a part of his mind to believe he had cheated.

Y/N had fallen asleep so quickly. It didn’t matter that she was out of her time. She always felt safe with Steve.

Meanwhile, Steve wouldn’t allow himself a second of sleep. He wasn’t going to waste a moment with Y/N by not being awake. How could he?

Instead he held her naked body against his chest. He switched back and forth between tracing the line of her spine to thumbing circles on her shoulder.

The more time he spent without Y/N in his present, the harder it was to watch her other selves leave him.

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand and sighed. He had to go to his group therapy in a few hours.

If Y/N was still here by then, he’d skip it. Lie and tell them he was sick.

Those sessions made him feel like a mockery anyway. At least once a week, he sat in a circle and told people they needed to move on with their lives. Meanwhile, he was still in a relationship with his dead girlfriend. She was a ghost that haunted him. He lectured other people how to live their lives in a post-snap world when he couldn’t go a minute without hoping a future or past Y/N would visit him soon.

Steve was taken out of his thoughts when Y/N stirred next to him.

She wasn’t waking up; she was leaving.

He saw her body start to fade.

There was nothing he hated seeing more than watching Y/N travel.

Was she going back to her own present? Was she going somewhere else? Would she be safe? Would this be one of her trips where she got hurt or almost killed?

And then, just like that, Y/N was gone. And Steve was alone once again.

Steve hoped his sheets would smell like her for longer than they did last time.

He should probably shower before he went to group, but he didn’t want to lose the feeling of her on his skin. He just wanted it to linger, if that was even possible.

That’s when he decided he needed more than a talk with a group of strangers. He needed a friend – a real friend – who knew what he was actually going through.

——————-

Steve hated going to the compound since the snap.

It was like going to a haunted house.

He never knew what memories would be resurrected when he visited.

Sometimes it was just the way the sun lit the room for a second or he’d catch a certain smell, then he was suddenly thrust into a memory linked to Y/N.

Steve found Nat in tears.

It was subtle, but it still broke his heart to see her upset. She was the strongest of them all. If she couldn’t hold it together, that’s when the rest of them truly knew how bad things really were.

“Ya know, I’d offer to cook you dinner, but you seem pretty miserable already.”

“You here to do your laundry?” She teased, trying to hide that she’d lost her composure for even a second.

“And to see a friend,” he added.

“Clearly your friend is fine.”

“What if your friend is the one that’s not?” He offered.

Her forced smirk faltered. “She show up today?”

Steve sighed and nodded. “She thought we broke up. It took one look around my apartment to know she didn’t live there.”

“You’re a terrible liar, so I could only imagine how that went.”

“Well, I eventually got her to believe we were just on a break, instead of telling her that she was…”

“Dead?” Nat offered.

Steve’s jaw just tightened at the word. He moved to sit across from her.

“It’s the first time she didn’t know about it. And now I’m wondering if I prefer the version of her that doesn’t know what's going to happen to her.”

Nat just hummed, understanding what he meant.

Steve’s eyes glazed over as he thought about it. “How was she able to just live every day knowing what was going to happen?”

“She had to learn to accept what she couldn’t control awhile ago, Steve. She didn’t have any other choice.”

“Why couldn’t she tell me?” He thought aloud, frustration clear in his voice.

“Because she knew you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You would’ve made yourself crazy trying to stop what you couldn’t. Nothing else would’ve mattered...including her.” Nat sighed. “Maybe she just wanted to embrace what little time she had with you. She can ignore the ticking of a time bomb, but not you.”

Steve knew Nat was right.

Suddenly, there was a ping and a hologram appeared in front of Nat.

She pressed a few buttons in the air and a video played out.

Next thing they knew, Scott Lang was fumbling his words at the front gate’s security camera.

Steve slowly stood up. Scott Lang was meant to be dead. “Is this an old message?”

“It’s the front gate,” Nat told him.

An hour later, Scott had stopped his pacing and explained his time travel theory.

Steve looked at Nat and immediately knew that she didn’t find Scott as crazy as he did.

But Nat had been searching for hope these past 5 years, while Steve refused to let it into his life.

“Tomorrow we’ll go see Tony,” Steve confirmed. “For now, you should get some rest, Scott.” Then he looked at Nat. “We all should.”

That was code for, ‘Don’t get excited.’

She clearly got the underlying message, but refused to ignore the hope.

—————————

Steve walked into his old room at the compound. He was only ever there when he visited Nat, which wasn’t often at all. He only kept some things there because he saw the hurt in Nat’s eyes when he had once suggested he completely clean it out.

When he turned on the light, he immediately noticed an envelope on the nightstand.

It was a letter addressed to him at the compound.

But Steve’s heart raced when he recognized the writing as Y/N’s.

“FRIDAY, where did this letter come from?” He asked the AI.

“It arrived in the mail today, Captain Rogers.”

He ripped it open instantly, his hands shaking in the process.

But there were only three words for him to read:

Listen to Scott.

Steve felt his heart beat faster.

And for the first time in 5 years, he felt hope.

-------------------------

Ya’ll, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

#non-sequential #non-sequential series #non-sequential chapter 29 #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers reader insert #pre-serum!steve rogers #pre serum steve #pre-serum steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #captain america fic #steve rogers angst #pre-serum!steve rogers x reader

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Ten

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Ten

The days slowly passed and coalesced into weeks which gradually became months, and, still, nothing seemed to be happening romantically between Marinette and Adrien.

“I wish they would just get it over with already,” Luka groaned, letting his forehead thunk against the table in the pub. “It’s killing me having this hang over my head.”

Marc grimaced as he reached out and patted Luka on the shoulder. “Luc, we all love you and want to support you, but I think your dwelling on losing Marinette and Adrien to each other has reached an unhealthy level.”

“You’ve been on about it for five months now,” Jacob sighed into his Bourbon.

Josie took another shot of Tequila and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Honestly, I don’t think you have anything to worry about when you and Adrien are already practically married.”

Luka blew out a snort. “Josie, it’s not like that between us.”

“Sure, it’s not,” she scoffed. “And I guess you and Adrien tell other people ‘I love you’ all the time too?”

Luka’s face flushed. “Those are platonic ‘I love you’s.”

“What about the handholding?” Jacob challenged, weighing in on the matter. “You didn’t hold my hand that much when we were dating, but you and Adrien are always walking around holding hands or linking pinkies.”

“It’s…platonic,” Luka insisted, trying to keep his wits about him as his friends ganged up. “Adrien is a really tactile person. Holding his hand helps him feel grounded.”

Marc cleared his throat, setting his limonade aside. “I usually stay out of this kind of thing…”

Luka deflated, knowing that all was lost if Marc were eschewing his neutrality.

“…but you and Adrien kiss each other on the cheek an awful lot for it to still be considered platonic, Luc. Adrien doesn’t interact with us like that. Maybe you should start to consider that it’s not totally platonic on his end either,” Marc gently suggested, not wanting to push too much but feeling like desperate measures were warranted after so much time had passed with Luka continually chasing his own tail.

“And what about the way you two are always snuggling and nuzzling each other?” Josie chimed in with a fresh attack (and none of Marc’s subtlety or finesse). “And the nose touches? Friends don’t touch their noses together like that.”

Luka winced, straightening up to grab his glass of water and sip at it sullenly. “I’ve told you before. Adrien was kept isolated from other people until he was thirteen, and he was raised in an abusive, affectionless home. He’s not very good at determining what’s socially acceptable, he sucks at boundaries, and he’s deplorably touch-starved. You can’t judge his feelings by his behavior according to normal societal standards.”

“Maybe not,” Marc agreed, “but we can compare Adrien’s behavior towards you with Adrien’s behavior towards others. While he is affectionate with us, it’s nowhere near as affectionate as he is with you.”

“You should ask Nino,” Jacob suggested, leaning forward to grab a slice of bread from the basket in the center of their table.

“I witnessed Adrien licking Nino’s cheek the other day when they were baking together,” Luka grumbled. “I don’t think Adrien’s affectionate behavior indicates much else besides the fact that he’s comfortable with me.”

There was a brief stretch of discontent silence filled by the mumble of the other pub patrons before Jacob spoke up again:

“But you told me a month ago that you and Adrien had started having sleepovers. That’s got to mean something, doesn’t it?”

Marc and Josie both whipped their heads around to gawk at Jacob and then Luka.

“Wait. What?” Marc choked.

“You and Adrien hooked up?!” Josie gasped.

“No-no-no!” Luka set his glass down so that he could frantically wave his hands to accompany his denial. “No. Not like that. He just—I was just—One night we were lying on his bed watching a movie, and we started to fall asleep, so I was going to get up and go to my own room, but he said to just sleep there, and…and I was so tired that I did.”

Josie arched a skeptical eyebrow. “And then what?”

Luka’s gaze dropped to the table. “And then the same thing kept happening? Though, recently, he’s been asking to sleep in my bed from the start, so…I don’t know. He likes snuggling, and he doesn’t like being alone. When we were teenagers, he used to use me as a body pillow all the time when we hung out and he spent the night. The bed sharing and the snuggling aren’t really new.”

“It’s just different now that there’s no Juleka or Rose or Capitaine to walk in on you if things start getting spicy,” Jacob snickered.

Luka reached out and smacked the bassist soundly on the arm. “It’s not like that. It would be criminal to make a move on Adrien. He trusts me.”

“Maybe we’ll all get lucky and he’ll make a move on you first,” Marc sighed, picking up his limonade and taking a long pull on the straw, lips puckering at the sweet and sour tang of the drink.

“Amen,” Josie clucked. “At any rate, you and Adrien need to sit down and have a ‘define the relationship’ conversation before you drive the rest of us nuts. This has gone on far too long, and I’m starting to consider having an intervention.”

“Josephine,” Marc warned lightly as Luka growled, “Don’t you dare. Things are still a little unstable for Adrien, and he needs to be able to feel safe in his own home. Don’t you dare tell him about my feelings and take that peace of mind away from him.”

Josie let out an enormous sigh, putting her hands up in surrender. “Luc, you’re such a martyr. It kills me.”

Jacob reached out and rested a hand on Luka’s forearm. “Honestly, I don’t think you’re giving Adrien enough credit. He’s a tough guy. I don’t think he’ll spook if he finds out how you feel.”

Luka bit his lip. “…I’m more concerned about him feeling indebted to me and pressured to try to pay me back, honestly.”

Jacob winced and gave Luka’s arm a supportive squeeze. “Yeah. Okay. That’s legit.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about him feeling obliged to return your feelings,” Josie added softly, all teasing and belligerence gone from her voice.

“I agree,” Marc seconded, putting a hand on Luka’s shoulder. “I genuinely think that Adrien is interested in you.”

Luka hung his head and shook it. “Thanks, guys, but…I just don’t know. I’m still too beat up over Marinette to put my heart out there again and risk what’s left of it getting pulverized.”

Josie opened her mouth to say something supportive, but she caught sight of a familiar blonde entering the restaurant over Luka’s right shoulder and snapped to attention, warning her friends, “Look sharp, Gents. Baby Boi incoming.”

Marc and Jacob casually withdrew their comforting hands from Luka so as not to draw suspicion, and Luka nearly vibrated in his seat from the sheer willpower it took not to turn around and stare.

Adrien entering a room always took his breath away, and Luka was afraid the raw emotion written on his face if he turned to watch would be too obvious.

“Hey guys!” Adrien greeted as he closed in on their table. “Mama-Marc…Jojo…Jacques.” He went around the table anticlockwise, giving each of their friends a set of air kisses to the sides of their cheeks.

He received a warm welcome of hugs and kisses and claps on the back in return.

When he got to Luka, Adrien sank down into the chair that had been saved for him on Luka’s side of the table and shone a brilliant smile on his roommate.

“Hey, You,” Adrien breathed, voice soft and intimate as his eyes bubbled with warmth and affection.

“Hey.” Luka internally swooned.

That smile, those eyes, and that tone of voice always did him in.

Adrien topped it all off by leaning in and placing a whisp of a kiss on Luka’s cheek, lingering for a breath and making Luka dizzy.

Luka mentally chided himself for being such a lightweight in love, but Adrien seemed to know how to effortlessly press all of Luka’s buttons.

Adrien drew back with a coy smile, holding Luka’s gaze for just a second before turning to the rest of the gang.

“Sorry I’m late. We got a last-minute order for two-hundred macarons, so things were a little crazy, and Tom needed me to stay later to clean up, since the macaron order put us behind.”

Even as Adrien’s attention was on the other three, his arm snaked around the back of Luka’s chair possessively, proving that Luka was still, at least subconsciously, on Adrien’s mind.

It was the little things like that that gave Luka a torturous glimmer of hope.

“No worries,” Marc assured with his usual golden retriever smile. “Sorry work was so hectic.”

“Yeah, you’re good. Luc already ordered for you, so it’s not like you held us up or anything,” Josie informed with a wink and a sly smile.

“No harm done,” Jacob confirmed, giving Adrien’s arm a light punch. “Sorry work sucked.”

Adrien turned back to Luka with a face glowing in gratitude. “You ordered for me? Thank you so much.”

Luka’s ears started to burn like dry leaves. “I got you the vegetable tart and Evian to drink. I hope that’s okay.”

Adrien nodded, stressing, “That’s perfect. Just what I wanted.”

He then peered curiously at Luka’s glass.

“And what are you having?”

Luka rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. “Water.”

Some days Luka thought it was sweet that Adrien cared so much about Luka having a healthier relationship with alcohol; some days Luka felt like a child being supervised.

But then Adrien smiled his most innocent smile at Luka, and Luka’s mild irritation vanished.

“I’m really proud of you, you know?” Adrien metaphorically cut the final string keeping Luka suspended over the shark tank.

Luka was a goner, completely turning to goo at Adrien’s praise.

“I’m so proud that you’re staying sober despite hanging out with those two lushes.” Adrien quirked his head at Jacob and Josie who burst into peals of slightly tipsy giggles.

Luka gave his eyes another roll. “They are enough to drive a man to drink, aren’t they?”

“Be nice, Luc,” Marc scolded even as he chuckled at Josie and Jacob’s expense.

“It’s okay,” Josie snickered. “I mean, it is true.”

Jacob shrugged good-naturedly and took another sip of his Bourbon. “So, what else did you do today besides bake macarons, Adrien?”

Adrien blew out a sigh, leaning back in his chair. “Today was kind of busy. I had business and acting classes back-to-back, and then I went for my therapy appointment before heading to the bakery for my shift.”

Josie let out a long whistle. “You really did have a jampacked day. Just thinking about it makes me tired.”

“It wasn’t so bad.” Adrien tried to reassure her. “My schedule was a lot worse as a teenager with school and modeling and all of my extracurricular activities.”

Josie groaned. “Don’t remind me. I had almost forgotten about how much I want to hit your father over the head with a clipboard.”

“I don’t know how you managed so well,” Marc confessed, grabbing a slice of bread from the basket as he slowly shook his head in wonder.

Adrien’s cheeks colored as he smiled bashfully, trying to convince them, “It really wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes, it was,” Jacob snorted.

“You’re just that amazing,” Luka whispered—perpetually in awe of Adrien—as he leaned in to press a kiss to Adrien’s cheek.

“Hm?” Adrien didn’t quite hear Luka over the cacophony of the pub and turned to ask him to repeat what he had said.

As a result, the kiss intended for Adrien’s cheek ended up on the corner of his mouth.

Luka pulled back with a start, and the two stared at one another in disbelief for a moment.

It was like the first time Adrien had kissed Luka on the cheek on his way out the door. Back then, they had both pulled back and stared for a beat before deciding that cheek kisses goodbye and hello were now something normal that they did.

A hush seemed to fall over the entire pub as Luka waited for Adrien to spring back in alarm.

Instead, Adrien’s initial surprise thawed into a content smile, and he slowly, intentionally moved forward. He pressed the softest, lightest, sweetest kiss to Luka’s lips, and it was absolute perfection.

Luka’s entire body tingled as he applied just the smallest amount of pressure back.

In truth, he wanted to dive right in and drown in Adrien, but this, now, was enough for the moment.

Adrien gradually pulled away and gave Luka another dazzling smile before turning back to the rest of the band.

“So, what did I miss? What were you guys talking about before I got here?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Josie interjected. “Nuh-uh. Not so fast. What was that?!”

Adrien blinked and tipped his head to the side. “What?”

Jacob let loose a short burst of laughter. “Don’t ‘what’ us. You know what. What was that?!”

Adrien looked to Luka (who was currently no help because metaphorical fireworks were going off in an epic display in his brain) and then shrugged.

“Nothing. Obviously, just an accident.”

“Pft!” Marc looked away to avoid spraying his friends with spittle as he was caught off-guard by a skeptical laugh.

“Right. An accident,” Josie scoffed.

Adrien shrugged again unflappably. “He was obviously aiming for my cheek. It’s not a big deal. It’s only a big deal if you make it a big deal, and I’m not going to.”

Josie glared at her uncooperative adopted little brother. “Right. Well. It just so happens that before you got here, we were talking about you and your very good just-a-friend Marinette.”

Adrien’s brow pinched into a miffed frown.

Josie’s lips quirked upward into a smirk as she felt she’d regained control of the situation. “How is your just-a-friend Marinette?”

Marc cast a surreptitious glance Luka’s way to ascertain whether Luka was okay with the topic of conversation, but Luka was still in a delirious daze over the kiss and didn’t seem fazed.

“Marinette’s fine, thank you,” Adrien replied cordially, stubbornly digging in his heels and refusing to let Josie win their ongoing contest of wills.

Josie’s eyebrow arched impishly. “Is she still just a friend, despite the fact that you work at her family bakery and her father wants to adopt you as heir?”

Adrien rolled his eyes, leaning in to grab a slice of bread. “Yep. She’s still just a friend. Thanks for asking.”

He took an unconcerned bite of the sliver of baguette.

“Are you sure?” Jacob chimed in with an air of amusement. “Not only does Tom have you set to take over the family business, but Marinette’s got you working modeling her designs too. Does Marinette know you two are just friends?”

“Yes,” Adrien answered emphatically. “Marinette and I are definitely on the same page about our relationship. Working for her family is just a matter of convenience. They’re friends doing me a favor because not a lot of people are comfortable hiring Adrien Agreste, and, I mean, I have to put myself through school somehow.”

Though, Adrien had often thought that he wouldn’t mind becoming a baker. He enjoyed the work, and Tom had such a passion for it that it was hard not to catch his enthusiasm. But it wasn’t like Adrien was going to tell his bandmates that because it would only give Josie and Jacob fodder with which to tease him.

“Not to split hairs over trifles, but isn’t Luka putting you through school?” Marc hummed, raising his straw to his lips.

“Et tu, Marc?” Adrien groaned at the implicit betrayal.

Marc shrugged, shooting Adrien a sheepish smile.

“I’m going to pay him back someday,” Adrien asserted. “Once I’m a famous actor…or successful business owner or something. I’m not sure which one of my degrees is going to be profitable first, but I’m going to pay him back as soon as I can.”

Jacob dropped his joking tone and rested a hand on Adrien’s arm. “Relax. We know you will.”

Further discussion on the topic was interrupted by the arrival of the meal.

The pub wasn’t far from their flat, so, after saying goodbye to the gang, Adrien and Luka walked home hand in hand. They released their hold on each other when they reached the apartment building and had to proceed one by one up the narrow flight of stairs to the third floor.

As Luka finished locking up behind them, he bit his lip and hesitated before remarking, “…So…about that kiss…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien assured as he shrugged off his coat and hung it on the coat tree next to the door. “It’s not a big deal.”

A thought hit Adrien like a bolt of lightning, and he whirled around to study Luka’s expression. “Unless I made you uncomfortable?”

“No!” Luka’s voice thundered in the quiet apartment, and he cleared his throat and lowered his volume before continuing levelly, “No, kissing is good. I wasn’t uncomfortable.”

“Good,” Adrien exhaled in relief, the sudden burst of tension gradually dissipating from his body. “I’m glad I didn’t screw anything up.”

Luka’s tone turned soft and fond. “No. You’re perfect, Perfect Fifth.”

“I don’t know about that,” Adrien chuckled, stepping in to carefully unloop the scarf from around Luka’s neck.

Luka’s cheeks flushed at the intimate gesture combined with Adrien’s proximity. He hoped Adrien might mistakenly attribute Luka’s rosy cheeks to the cold.

“Hey,” Adrien whispered.

Luka quirked an eyebrow, brain refocusing on Adrien—every blink of his eyelids, every twitch of his muscles.

Adrien licked his lips and looked up at Luka with an expression filled with raw vulnerability. “May I sleep with you tonight?”

Luka’s stomach flipped, and he had to fight to tamp down his visceral initial reaction. “O-Of course. …Why do you ask? Is something wrong?”

Battling back shame, Adrien nodded. “It’s dumb. I know I shouldn’t be upset about it, but there was this jerk at the bakery today who had a bone to pick with my father and took it out on me instead.”

Luka’s fingers curled into fists, and his teeth sank into his bottom lip. His body started to tremble as instant rage ignited within him.

Adrien took Luka’s hand and gently undid the fists one by one, a grateful smile hovering on his lips.

“Shh. I’m fine,” he promised. “Tom let the guy have a piece of his mind, and Sabine told him he wasn’t welcome at the bakery anymore, so it was fine, but—”

“—That’s not fine,” Luka hissed, pulling Adrien into a protective embrace. “It’s not.”

Adrien let himself go slack, relaxing into Luka’s arms. He’d been longing to retreat there all day, and finally being wrapped up in the safety and warmth he’d craved felt exquisite.

“Orpheus,” he breathed, surrendering himself to be cared for and fussed over.

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