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spacebarnes · 3 years

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SORRY

SUMMARY: when a game in a interview show up, Tom can't keep his mout shut.

A/N: this is my first imagine of tom omg i love him so much. as always, english it's not my first language so i hope this is good! take care of yourself pls! (gifs not mine)

"baby, remember we can't get together." you said while on the screen of your cell phone you watched your boyfriend brushing his teeth.

"why not?" he removed his brush from his mouth to ask.

"because everyone will know that we are together." you let out a sigh.

"they won't know." he shook and spat into the sink before speaking back to the screen. "let me go for you." he said with a pout.

"Thomas." this time, your voice was a little more serious.

"fine darling, but don't call me Thomas, it feels like you don't love me anymore." the latter put a smile on your face.

"I will always love you, dumbass." you rolled your eyes and got out of bed when you heard someone ring your doorbell. "It's probably Lizzie, so i have to hang up. love you." you said something hasty and waited for me to say it back to you, as soon as the "love you too" left your boyfriend's lips, you hung up the call.

when you opened the door, Elizabeth was behind her in a pretty light blue dress and her hair was tied in a ponytail. "hey, girl. Scarlett is in the car so we should go right now." she said something hastily and took your hand to get you out of your apartment.

as soon as they got to where the interview would be recorded you were able to locate several of your colleagues, however, Tom was not there.

"does anyone know where the fuck is Tom Holland?" you ask.

"I told you that the kid was a problem." Sebastian said as he sat down in a chair next to Anthony.

"I'm here!" your boyfriend's unmistakable voice echoed throughout the place, forcing you to turn to meet his gaze. he looked handsome as hell, he was wearing a black pants, a white shirt and a black jacket.

"who invited him? damn, now the whole interview is ruined." Anthony said sarcastically, causing a laugh from some.

"so funny, Mackie." your boyfriend rolled his eyes and sat down, not before checking you up with his eyes. Tom sat on the edge, next to Lizzie. you really wanted to sit next to him, but the only available seat was between Sebastian and Scarlett.

when you sat down, you felt a vibration and you quickly picked up your phone to find out what it was that made it vibrate. It was a message from Tom.

TOM: you look so gorgeous, stop being so cute or i will die.

YOU: shut up.

TOM: i'm being serious. i just can't believe that you are my gf like omg lucky me.

YOU: you're making me blush, stop it

TOM: only the truth darling ;)

i love u so much.

YOU: love u too. now shut up, the interview is getting started.

as soon as the two of you leave your phones, the two of you found each other to smile at each other before the interview started.

"I see what's going on" Sebastian commented, pulling you out of your bubble

"huh?" you asked without understanding what he was referring to.

"you and Holland." when he spoke those words, you felt your body go numb with nerves.

"what do you mean?" you asked trying to hide the nerves that began to run through your veins.

"you two are plotting revenge on Mackie and me for bothering you so much." hearing that gave you a sigh of relief.

"yeah, totally." you said with a smile, relieved that it was not what you thought.

soon the interviewer entered the room, giving them indications of the game they would play. "so, i'm gonna say let me see the last picture in your camera roll and stuff like that." he explain quickly so that all of you could understand.

"but what if i have a nude?" you asked at random.

"you have nudes in your phone? alright dirty girl." Scarlett commented in surprise.

"no, i mean-"

"It's alright, you are on your 20's and it's understandable, don't worry about it. actually, don't share it with every guy you meet." Sebastian said next to you.

"wait, i don't-"

"just don't show it for the good of the community, got it? yeah? I want to suppose so." Anthony looked at you and said.

"leave alone the little girl, I'm sure she just ask for curiosity." Elizabeth jumped into the conversation and defended you.

"that's why you're my favorite, Liz." you blew her a kiss in the air.

"I'll make sure that didn't hurt, but okay." Tom said hiding it with a cough.

"shut up, Tom. you can't talk, surely you also have photos on your phone with your stick in the air" Anthony said with some disgust.

"did you just called his dick, stick?" Scarlett asked with a laugh.

"oh man." the man next to you shook his head. "just don't put that in the interview and let's get started."

"alright, alright." the interviewer said with a laugh. "so, we are going to separate all of you, in that way some teach one thing and the others another, it's that okay?" he asked and everyone nodded.

"wait, so if I show my first picture, Lizzie won't?" Tom asked and pointed to the girl next to him.

"no, in that case she is going to show her last photo." answered the question. "so, Tom, Scarlett and Anthony are the team one, and Lizzie, Sebastian and [Y/N] are team two. got it?"

"yes, sir." you said and took out your phone to be able to show what they ask of you.

"right, team one let's see your last picture." the guy in front of you ordered and the three people that made up that team began searching his gallery.

"mine it's really boring." Scarlett warned when she saw her last photo. "it's a glass of water." she said simply and showed a photo.

"mine is a selfie of Lizzie and i." Anthony said with a smile and showed his screen, in which the photo of the two actors stood out.

"we look good." the semi blonde said and nodded.

"what about yours, Tom?" you asked curiously and leaned forward a little to get a better look at it.

"it's ridiculous." he said and placed the palm of his hand on his forehead while showing the photo.

"why you have a picture of a tea bag?" Sebastian asked in confusion.

"because there was nothing left!" Tom said and shifted a bit in his chair so he could be face to face with all of you. "so i send this picture to my mom so she can buy more for me."

"the fuck, Tom? just go to the store." you tried to sound like his friend

"no because i want this kind of tea, i don't like others." he said with a grimace.

"and what about your juices? I thought those were your favorites." Anthony asked and rested his right cheek on his hand.

"yeah but, I like tea better." he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"let's continue!" the interviewer interrupted and read one of the letters in his hands. "let's see, team two i want to see your last note."

"i'm scared" you start giggling while entering the notes app.

"i can't say it." Sebastian said quickly and turned off his cell phone.

"hey, why not? show us." Scarlett insisted and crossed her arms.

"because it's a list of possible gifts for [Y/N] because her birthday is coming up." when he said this, the two of you quickly turned to look at each other. you folded your lower lip and moved closer to him so that you could hug him properly.

"yeah, so much love but i want to see the tea, darling. show us." Mackie interrupted the moment and clapped his hands to hurry you up.

"my last note says 'new angel by niall horan'." you said something confused without understanding why your last note said that. "um, what?"

"oh!" Lizzie interfered and headed towards you. "maybe it's because it was the song that was playing on the radio and you said you were going to write down the name to add it to your playlist."

"oh" you exclaimed extending the o. "yeah, i remember now."

"so, my last note says 'two and a half cups of rice'." your friend frowned at not understanding. "yeah, i don't remember that."

"let's continue with the team two, show us your last text." the interviewer ordered with a smile and those of team two quickly got into the messaging app.

"oh, this is a funny one." Sebastian said "damn it, i'm gonna burn everything because you are not going to the interview with Mackie and i." he read his last message without removing the smile from his face and then looked up. "I sent it to Evans."

"oh i see the favoritisim here." Scarlett said with a small laugh and looked at Sebastian.

"I'm going to an interview, we can hang out tomorrow." Lizzie read with narrowed eyes so she could see better. "yeah, my best friend wanted us to go out for a drink but work comes first, i guess." she grimaced and shrugged.

"oh, I'm so eager to see the latest message from [Y/N], she has the juicy stuff." Anthony said with a laugh and pointed at you.

"oh my god, may the lord save me." you said while entering the message app. you widened your eyes when you saw that the last message you sent had been to Tom, you tried to get into another chat, but Sebastian discovered you.

"hey!" he said quickly and stopped your hand. "without cheating."

"well, mine says love u too. now shut up, the interview is getting started." when you finished reading, you felt your cheeks begin to turn a crimson color.

"I wonder who you sent it to." Lizzie said and touched her chin pretending to think.

"is it that boyfriend of yours?" Sebastian asked and you nodded slowly.

"wait, do you have a boyfriend?" the boy asked you in amazement and you nodded again while covering your face with your cell phone.

"let me tell you something about this girl." Mackie interrupted everything and when he started talking, you knew you were going to be embarrassed. "she has a boyfriend, but she doesn't show it. upload photos to her social networks and cover the boy's face."

"even we don't know who it is." the blonde said. "we are creating a team of spies to discover the identity of her lover."

"I'm afraid that all of you may never find out." you said very sure and pulled the phone away from your face.

Tom hadn't said a word since his shift started. he was simply looking at you with eyes of love because he could not be near you. he hadn't realized that you had read his last text message, he was lost in how good you looked.

"Tom?" Elizabeth moved the boy a little, pulling him out of his bubble.

"um, yes?" he answered something lost, not understanding what was happening around him.

"read us your last text message, prince charming." Stan annoyed him and ordered him at the same time.

when you noticed that your boyfriend looked a bit lost, you begged not to read the same message and everyone would realize what was happening between the two of you.

"alright." the brunnette took out his cell phone and entered your chat. "love u too. now shut up, the interview is getting started." he looked up and smiled at his companions. "it was from my girlfriend." at that moment, you felt your cheeks burn and your body completely paralyzed. Tom had publicly exposed the relationship.

"wait a damn minute." Anthony said and looked at Tom and then at you.

"i knew it!" Scarlett got up from her chair and did a little victory dance.

"this is too much, i can't believe it." Sebastian put a hand on his forehead. "how can you lie to me!" he yelled at you and shook your shoulders making you laugh.

"um, hi?" Holland said without understanding. "what's going on?"

"just don't talk, i think you already said a lot." you told him and covered your face with both of your hands.

"what do you mean?" he asked again.

"you, Thomas Holland." Elizabeth turned so she could face him. "you just made your relationship with [Y/N] known" when the brunette processed these words, he quickly leaned in to look at you.

"sorry?" he said with an awkward smile and shrugged.

#fanfic #oneshot #marvel #tom holland #spiderman #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker x reader #tom holland smut

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monstas1ut2 · 3 years

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(2/2) Sanji Vinsmoke (Smut Warning!)

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

She is a thot and you want to cuff (Huh?) She-She is a thot and you want to cuff (Huh?)

The water that was sliding down your throat ever so softly, happened to be caught and then hard to swallow when Sanji decided to say that sentence.

"Huh...?"

Sanji's face kinda faltered as he sighed, just shrugging a little. He'd done something kinda wild, well it's not necessarily wild for someone's boyfriend to buy them things but you aren't used to clothing items..

"I brought you a dress... and I just know you'll like it... I know you'll look gorgeous in it too.." Sanji was firm in his wording, just really wanting you to at least feel happy in your body just a little.. Yeah.. he definitely figured out the problem that was being slipped under his nose... and eyes for that matter.

Sanji also looked to Nami for explanations. As much as she wanted to keep it under wraps, Sanji seemed so distraught. She also knew you would take years to speak on the issue..

"Where is it.." you mumbled out, fiddling with your water bottle as your eyes gazed to the floor. Sanji's words always made you feel.. lifted. Though they could never push you over the edge.. so instead of wanting to feel that.. you decided you'd suck it up...

Sanji's funny, but cute eyebrows had raised up a little as you asked that. He himself almost forgot where he put the dress. Though he remembers putting it on the table in your closet. Your closet was adorable, it had an island in the middle that held your purses and jewelry.

"In the closet..." Sanji's face started to light up ever so gently when he told you where it was. Your form disappearing from his vision as you went upstairs... honestly Sanji couldn't believe it.. he just knows he's going to die when he sees you in it..

His heart was racing just like the first time he'd seen you..

(Sanji went to McDonald’s for Luffy…)

"Your total is $50.75 sir..."

"Oh my, you're beautiful ~~~!"

"Are You Ight...?"

That happened to be the most one sided conversation ever... you both were quite different. You both are still different in a sense, but definitely not as far apart. The both of you are in love with each other.. and seeing you come down those stairs slowly with those black heels and that dress that stuck to you like peanut butter... his nose started to bleed..

"I-.. I actually like it.." you whispered out to him as you tried covering your breasts just a little. Staring at Sanji who happened to be blushing like mad. His eyes continuing to stare oh so lovingly at you and your figure... he just had the urge to touch and give you every thing you wanted.

"I told you... you're just.. beautiful... beautiful in everything..."

"Sanji..-"

"No... really... now may I please have the opportunity to show you off..?" Sanji's voice almost sounded like a purr. Standing up, he'd walked over to you ever so gently and you watched with your lips parted. His lips pressing gently on the back of your brown skinned hand. It was always pretty to see his lighter hand against yours... not to mention how his hand was Damn hot.. hand kink maybe...?

"Let me take you to the restaurant... like we were supposed to do the other week..."

As much as you loved this dress, were you ready to leave the house with it? You felt as if Sanji set you up kinda, he was standing here looking scrumptious ... and now, he has you standing here radiating the same energy... there was no excuse now...

"You sneaky lil boy..." you grumbled playfully as you tried to hold back a smile, pointing at Sanji as he started to softly smile. Of course he knew he was sneaky... only to make you happy though...

"Fine... I'll go..."

"(Y/n)-swannnnn~"

"Mhm..."

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

The place of course was beautiful, it's Sanji's restaurant. The place was filled with so many people that your anxiety was rushing towards the top. So many people were also staring because you were hand in hand with Sanji. The owner of the restaurant.. the 5-star restaurant.

Swallowing your nerves, Sanji squeezed your hand gently. Causing you to look up at him as you both were sat at the best table. The water was pretty, you could see it as you sat gently with Sanji.. the man who was inching his hand over to you... it was odd to feel his hand on your thigh, but you decided to touch his bigger hand. That definitely caught him off guard, his eyes kind of widened, especially when you gently leaned your head against his shoulder.

Sanji's love language is exactly this, being able to touch and caress every curve.. every imperfections you hate... he will definitely love.

"I know you like (f/f)... do you want that (y/n)-Chan..?" It was odd how Sanji still remembered such a little thing. You loved (f/f) and especially from his restaurant because the cooks were amazing. At the same time though, you really didn't want to add any more weight to yourself..

The look on your face was obvious to Sanji and oh so suddenly he looked sternly at you when you had removed your head from his shoulder.

"You can eat... and if you don't I'm taking the lace back."

"*gasp* you Ass-.."

"Get the food and eat it." Sanji said simply and honestly, this was the most serious you've seen him. He threatened to take your wig back, like come on he's serious... All you could muster up was a little mumble but Sanji gave you this look... he was really serious about you eating.. and it was kinda hot.

Of course though, minutes later, you were served your (f/f) and it tasted like heaven. At the same time though you were kinda quiet because of Sanji.. he's just trying to love you and the fact is.. you weren't letting him.

So today you were going to do something you'd never done before.. it's a new page.

Putting your utensil down, you gently cupped Sanji's face. He kinda widened his eyes and he could feel your acrylics.. he loved them a lot.. his favorite color is just plain white by the way..

Anyways, he could smell your gentle scent as you got closer and your lips were a centimeter from his ear. To be honest he felt himself already getting heated for nothing... though he couldn't help it.

"I love you... and thank you fa dealin with me...I can't really give you anything but... I could give ya dessert..." the air tickled his ear as he listened to your erotic whisper. Watching as you moved away and let go of his chin. Smiling at him once more before continuing to eat like you've done nothing...

Oh you've sparked fire..

The rest of the date was soft and romantic, it consisted of Sanji wanting to devour you right then and there.. but you obviously refrained that. Taking a little sip of that wine that was offered to you. God you looked irresistible, your back just arched so well and your thighs spread like butter when you sit down... that's talent.

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

The ride home was quiet, a soft quiet, the aura was quite tense though. The way your heart was racing was like a person on a broken rollercoaster. The feeling of Sanji's hand against the smol of your back when you both walked into the house was more of a warning.. the warning that this was going to get a bit messy.

"Sanji!" You gasped out in surprise.

Feeling the air swift past you, it's just something you couldn't believe. Sanji just picked you up...

The blonde simply threw you over his shoulder and he even carried you up the stairs.. your legs slightly flailing as your heels were being taken off by him. You could see them in the hallway when he passed by them. The destination being the bedroom, and that wasn't far... he stepped through the frame and in seconds you were plopped on that bed.

"Sanji are you crazy!?" You spoke with shock, just kind of propping yourself up with your elbows. Staring into the male's much darker orbs. Immediately shutting up when you saw him loosen his tie with his slender finger. Staring you down with the energy of a bull. The tie being slid off and dropped to the floor..

"I want my dessert now (y/n)-swan..." Sanji gently teased, his hands taking your ankles and gently slid you downwards towards him so you could be at the edge of the bed. You legs being lifted and your dress being slid up to your waist... all you could think was that Sanji was going to gag..

This man was going to see the stretch marks and the odd fat... and.

Actually... he was at loss of words... his nose actually started to bleed too... though he wiped it away. He didn't want to pass out now.. no...

"May I please.. continue (y/n)...?"

"Mhm..." humming this, you were amazed and surprised at the fact that he still wanted to continue.. what you failed to realize is that Sanji loved your thickness... and he wanted to bite a chunk..

Getting your consent, Sanji felt this rush of excitement. Pushing your thighs forward with his hands and your knees were now to your chest. Feet dangling in the air as you saw Sanji slowly start to go down... where was he going...?

The sudden cold air hitting your soft, pussy lips that weren't like anything he'd seen before honestly. Though they looked like soft brown marshmallows.. your panties hitting the ground as you let out a loud gasp. Throwing your head back from the wet feeling of Sanji's tongue.

"..My ..god-..." Sanji heard those two words from your throat, his smirk not visible to you but you could sense it. He literally had his tongue lick up your slit.. something you thought would never happen to you. It was so overwhelming.

"Ngh! Sanji! S-Slow down, baby..." you whimpered out, your eyes staring down at the blonde. His eyes staring right back at you... he could taste every inch of you, your juices were leaking all on his goatee. Your brown thighs enclosing him... he didn't care... he didn't care if he couldn't breathe..

Though this was technically your doing, as much as it hurt to let him see your body.. you've finally let him and now he's a cheetah... a lion.. a tiger.. anything but Sanji right now.. especially since you teased him in his own restaurant.. wearing the tight dress and those heels.. he'd just do anything to see your pretty (e/c) eyes rolling back because of him.

The feeling of his lips sucking gently at your folds, caused the pit of your stomach to form butterflies. Just staring up at the ceiling when you relaxed.. tried to at least.

His nails somewhat digging into your hips, it may have felt harsh but you liked the feeling. Being unable to move anywhere else just showed how dominant he wanted to be tonight. Your hand slowly sliding down as you slipped your fingers through his blond locks. Gripping at his hair ever so gently.. simply trying not to hurt him.. but the way he was passionately kissing at your pussy was sending you off the edge.

The lewd slurping sounds echoing as your toes curled, panting out loudly.

"You taste like heaven, (n/n)..." Sanji purred out, the vibrations of his talking giving you this shock of pleasure. He could hear the soft jiggling of your anklet near his ear. He remembered buying that for you... it simply says : S + (your initial).

The power he held was starting to make you twist and turn, trying to move away from his grasp. The dress being such a cockblock at the moment. You just wanted to see him a bit more so you took the rest of it off... eagerly.. Your breasts being shielded by the bra you had on.

"S-Sanji-.. fu-..Fuck... right there, m'gonna cum.. m'gonna cum~..."

Your gasping and pleads weren't making Sanji push away either. His tongue slipping inside of you for the thousandth time as he felt your pussy pulse and ache for something more to push you over that edge. His slender fingers sneakily prodding at your entrance. The slick and wetness of your pussy just made it so easy to slip a finger in. This causing you to jolt and your body shook with a pleading sound.

Sanji could tell your orgasm was here, the tight hold on his finger making him smirk against your lips.

"F-Fuck... don't touch-.. touch it anymore.." You whined out, immediately closing your legs when Sanji moved his head from between your legs. Your (e/c) eyes were closed tightly before slowly opening them again, watching as Sanji started to remove his own clothing.

Considering you were at the edge of the bed, you sat up slowly and your pretty face had a little bit of drool on the side of your mouth. Not to mention how your hair was a bit frazzled.

Staring up at him with lust and love, Sanji chuckled and decided to bend down and kiss your glossy lips. The lip gloss still stayed... not surprising... that Broadway is no joke-

The kiss was deep, the taste of your pussy was mixed in with what the two of you had at that restaurant along with cigarette smoke.. an odd combination of things, no lie.. but it was addicting to taste. A little moan releasing from your throat as your kiss started to become sloppy, your tongue swirling around Sanji's as he started to unbuckle his belt.. though what he didn't expect you to do was push his hands away. Your pretty hands slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants.

Slowly breaking the kiss as the saliva was still connected. Sanji's pants being shuffled down by you as you continued to stare up at him. His eyes in slight disbelief, though more of a blush.. watching you take out his hard cock.. your hand gently wrapping around it as you leaned down more and wrapped your pretty lips around it.

Sanji doesn't know what you do to make them so pretty, that dark lip liner mixed with the lip gloss.... He dies, especially since it's around his cock. His precum making an appearance, but dripping in your mouth already.

Tasting him, he seemed to taste salty more than anything. Moving your hand and slowly sucking him in deeper as you moved your head up and down. Your (e/c) eyes looking up to his softer ones. He just looked so cute and hot, so why not give him the gawk gawk 5000? You may be new to sex itself but you're not that much of a saint.

"A-Ah...s-slow down (n/n).."

The same words you told him, now being said by him... pitiful...

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

The smell of erotic pleasure turned up to 100%. Your breasts being softly sucked on by Sanji. They were just like Hershey kisses. His hands almost nailing your wrists beside your head as he felt your pussy pulse around him. He deflowered you and now he was going to give you the time of your life..

"Sa-Sanji~... why you so big~..."

The male had to hold his nose because lord knows he couldn't take that. The words and the nasty things you were saying were going to be etched in his brain forever... he just hopes he doesn't think of things like this when he's working... he'll die..

"You have such a naughty mouth my dear..."

"Then spit in it..."

Lord... Nope, Sanji couldn't take it, giving you your first taste of a thrust. Your breath being kicked out of you as your eyes rolled back gently.

"I-... Sanji, keep doin that..." you softly pleaded, your thighs jiggling each time he'd thrust inside of you. Sanji was staring down at his cock continuously disappearing inside you. Watching as you swallowed him just the way he likes it. Call him crazy but he didn't even think of a condom. He didn't want it... he it wanted raw, you wanted it raw...

He needs... quote, needs you to have his babies for sure...

Your breasts was bouncing all wildly when Sanji started to speed up. Your moans not getting any quieter. The bed was being beaten into the wall.. which he'd definitely have to get repaired..

"A-..agh! S-Sanji, daddy-... cum w-with me.. please!"

That nickname slipped from your mouth as your insides clenched around him. Almost trapping him inside as your eyes squeezed shut, feeling Sanji continue to push his way. His loud moans sounded so hot... he was shameless in telling you that this was amazing...

"Damn-... I'm cumming..." Sanji groaned as he watched your pretty eyes once you'd open them again.. the feeling washing over both of you as your nails attached to Sanji's back. Scratching down it with love. The white cum actually overfilling you, a total creamepie... it was so sticky. Your legs trembling a little from the impact.. and you could barely breathe.

Swallowing your butterflies, you figured it was over.. though out of the blue... Sanji was now smoking another cigarette and you just blinked.

"We're not done yet, my beautiful (Y/n)"

(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ Masterlist 2

#black reader #poc reader #smut #one piece x poc!reader #vinsmoke sanji #ambw #bwam

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imaginesbymk · 4 years

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PINK + WHITE.

—chapter nine ; with heat & wet skin.

summary: teresa’s permanent resignation from the peaky blinders leads her to a whole new chapter of working in an art museum. but little did she know her best life would be butchered some time later when her former lover tommy shelby gives her no choice but to return to the peaky blinders after they make new enemies, with the leader, of all people, being the man teresa fell in love with one night after a wedding reception back in post world war; luca changretta.

pairing: luca changretta x OC x tommy shelby

tags in this chapter: swearing, implied nsfw, drinking, mentions + drug use

[ chapter index / meet my oc / wattpad link ]

MASON was quick on his feet when he was given the slightly odd request Teresa had asked him to do last minute. It had nothing to do with the gallery or with separation of last minute business meetings to be scheduled in the margins of the diary. It was just that he had to safely track down a dangerous man. Luca Changretta was still in England, hot-headed with a plan.

Teresa loved fur shawls. Though she detested how the cheap ones she could afford wore out from time to time, from the "fur" falling out like leaves from a tree in autumn, or even its colour turning from new to depressed (and even she grew so envious over the women who wore the luxurious, expensive ones at parties). Tommy Shelby never bothered with buying her what she wanted, which she was fine with, but one man with the Italian genes spoiled her with one that she kept in her closet. A grey-ish white. Teresa often takes one look at it, before sliding it over to reach the silky see-through shawl when she is simply relaxing in her home. At parties she debated even thinking of taking it out, but then there was the other shawl that was made of black fur, and it closed together with a silver clip to keep her shoulders warm.

The fur shawl was just like the painting she avoids at her own work. Both were so beautiful and timeless, both sharing personal meaning. But tonight, it finally saw light from staying in the wardrobe closet for too long. Teresa held it out in front of her, then clutched it in her arms.

The bar was built together with grey walls, none sound-proof. On the other side you could hear the jazz band playing music for the party, or footsteps from the owner or a bartender heading out back for more stocking of gin. If you were on that side, you'd hear the giant doors spring open from the doorman that allowed Teresa to enter inside. The man at the counter watched as her dress fell all the way down to her heels, not too long so she wouldn't trip. Her hair was in its curls once more, and wrapped around like comfort was the fur.

She reached a booth and set her purse on the table. "White wine."

"Ma'am-" the server goes.

"A man will be joining me very soon." Teresa made a smile, as the unescorted woman if Luca were to not show up. Had she imagined if Luca burned the invitation letter she mailed to his hotel, or simply tossed it away, in future to be used as scratch paper, or even as a roll up (if Luca is one of the many people that did snow), she may have just wasted her time getting dolled up just to not be served at her booth.

"Last time I met up with a woman at a bar, she proposed a deal, and lied straight to my face."

She shot her head up.

Those eyes.

Looks like her night wasn't going to waste after all. "Are you talking about Polly?" She watches as Luca Changretta helps himself on the other side of the booth, the same server coming over to Teresa with her white wine.

Teresa waited while staring down at Luca's own glass being poured with four fingers of whiskey. Luca glanced at Teresa's outfit, not answering her question. "You're wearing the shawl I got you? I can't believe you still have it."

"What, like I got rid of it? Why would I give it to someone else who would treat it like a rag?"

"Hm." Luca took a sip. "So, why did you summon me here? Actually, I know the answer to that one. You're a businesswoman, as we both know. You invited me here to propose some kind of deal, eh? Like I got the time to spare one more fucking thing before I go do what I came to England to do?"

"I know about the vendetta, Luca." Teresa began. "And I know the deal you made with Polly, which was a lie, by the way. I know about that. What I also know is that you don't just plan on crushing the Peaky Blinders. You have more on your mind. You're so greedy that you would want to overthrow Alfie Solomons as well. If he were to betray Tommy with the deal you made with Mr. Solomons, you know you and your men would come after him as well and take over his business."

Luca nodded. "I had a feeling you knew. I had a feeling Tommy Shelby brought you back to Birmingham, no?"

"I know your patience is wearing thin, and you're done giving people more time. But then there's me."

"Right, forgive me," Luca places a hand on his chest. "Why not talk about the royalty in front of me as well? What could she possibly request for this time?"

"I wanna know why I was never sent a Black Hand."

Luca laughs, trailing his fingers around the rim of his glass. Whatever Teresa said or did, she definitely wasn't laughing. Nothing seemed funny to her on her end. She did, however, miss that laugh of his. It was more of a chuckle, but she loved it like it was honey in hot tea. "Let me tell you something. It's best to stay out of this, right? Since you resigned, messing with us is like throwing stones at the devil."

"I'll play in the snow with the devil to prove you wrong."

Luca scoffs harshly. "So you're one of those people that snorts white lines just to feel good?"

"That was just my own figure of speech, Luca. I don't do Tokyo," Teresa replied. She cringed at the habit Arthur and Michael carelessly picked up on. "It's everyone's thing now, but not mine."

"That makes two of us." He took another sip. "I'm doing you a favour here, Miss Griffith. Stay out of this and do your own thing."

"There's no need for you to call me that," she comments.

"Why the hell not? Formalities are a thing of the past now?"

"You're talking to me as if we just met. We had something together."

"Yeah, had."

Teresa gave a glare, grabbing her wine. Luca smirks. "All right. Whatever you say. Jesus, kid. You're so fuckin' difficult."

"Kid," she scoffs at his remark. "And Ada Thorne is on your list and she doesn't get her hands covered in blood. So why wasn't I included?"

"You feel left out?" Luca snickered.

"I just wanna know why. I know damn well you haven't forgotten about me. Even if what we had to you was just for pleasure, you found out that I was once a Peaky Blinder."

Luca stares. "You wanted out because you felt like it would devour you forever, so I respected your wishes. You told me why you threw in the towel. And I know you're not a Shelby, you don't wanna be a Shelby."

The server comes up to them. "Sir? Ma'am? Would any of you like to hear the specials tonight?"

"No, thank you." Teresa smiles.

"More whiskey," Luca says. "And for the lady, she'll have more wine." Teresa raised her brows. She didn't mind more wine, would she care so much about knowing her limit before it was time to wince at the tab?

"I forgot you love whiskey," Teresa points out.

"Italian whiskey," Luca made a hand gesture. "As I was saying... have you thought long and hard about this, as to why I'm here? As to why I want Tommy Shelby dead, how I now want everyone dead?"

"Your father." There was a pause between the two. The jazz band transitioned their music to a much slower song this time, and it started easing the nerves in both the former couple's systems despite the volume of alcohol consumed. "Arthur Shelby killed your father. John Shelby killed your brother Angel."

"If things didn't happen the way it did, my men and I would be cozying up in New York counting stacks by stacks."

"And I wouldn't be seeing you here," Teresa added. "Almost ever again," Teresa thanks the server for the excess wine refilling in her glass, then Luca's. "Now can we talk about the giant elephant in the room?"

Luca furrows his brows.

"I know why you left, Luca. I know it's been five years, but you really just packed up and left. I've never seen you so frantic until that day when you were running to the train." Not even an eye bat. "I grew miserable ever since."

"Can I say this?" Luca leaned forward, placing the cuffs of his tailored suit that it laid flat on the tablecloth. "Whatever emotion you saw in my eyes on that day, whatever it was, it was for the sake of being alive for my family. Someone's gotta help keep the business up and runnin'. None of it works if I'm not there."

Teresa stares at Luca. This man wasn't wrong. It wasn't like he was running everything in his family all on his own. His father led the family in Birmingham that Angel was a part of, even his mother lived with them, but what makes New York so important and comforting to Luca must have felt like a whole outlet of anything he ever accomplishes, how many Tommy guns he can hold and keep in his home like picture frames, how many men he has to hire from Sicily and America just to help kill one family. All of that was justified when he boarded that train to the Liverpool docks.

"Oh," Teresa straightened her back. "So much for being the big, bad capo."

"Be careful," Luca warned, pointing a finger at her. "Don't question a gangster's honour."

"You know I crack jokes here and there," Teresa's lips curled into a smirk as it reached the rim of her glass.

"So do I," said Luca.

She looked down at his hands that rested on the table. His experienced, non-scrawny hands that had a black hand tattooed on his wrist, one with a crown, and maybe some other new ones Luca got over time. She used to kiss all of them, even the one on his neck that was a cross. His right hand was wrapped with big, gold rings on two fingers, except he only kept his ring finger free of anything, that was something she wanted to bring up. "You got all those rings on your fingers but not a wedding ring.

"Not like you got one on yours, either. Unless you took it off before coming here," Luca jokes.

She shakes her head. "I've been too busy to fall in love with another soul. But you? You didn't tie the knot with Viviana back in New York?"

Luca scowled, knowing Teresa hadn't forgotten about that woman as he did. "No. I still see her occasionally."

"Yet you haven't done anything with her? Never bothered to find anyone to satisfy your mother?"

"My mother says any woman from New York or even from the old country would do."

"What did you say, after?"

"Mamma, you're killin' me.'" Teresa had to chuckle at that, Luca smiled at her. He then looked around the bar, seeing how more of the guests had gotten up to dance with their dates as the jazz music cranked up their higher tunes like a machine. "Don't tell me we're gonna be sitting here all fuckin' night. You wanna dance, Miss Tour Guide?"

The nickname he gave to her the first time. Did he really sit in front of her and tell her he couldn't remember everything they had, then? "I'm a little rusty," Teresa declines.

'We gotta stretch our legs somehow. I ain't even see your whole getup for the night."

Teresa had no problem getting up from the booth. She stepped out so that her heels were shown as well, and she placed the fur shawl down on her seat so her shoulders were out. The dress wasn't purchased by Luca, but by her, and she felt like a Grand Princess, like a little girl playing with their mother's dresses and makeup. She was never too insecure about her looks since it never bothered her, but she felt beautiful, and she wondered if Luca will still ever see her as beautiful whether or not she is clothed in front of him.

Luca kept on staring. "Then perhaps we can head somewhere else," he suggests. "Somewhere we're both quite familiar with."

How and why didn't matter, the young man who looked to be around Arthur Shelby's age paid no second thought to his surroundings as he aggressively snuffed the thick lines of cocaine that formed on the ledge up his nostril. He begins wiping away any excess off his face, exiting the balcony seats just as the Italian mobster escorts Teresa inside the dark theatre to their respected spots.

"You're a lover of theatre," Teresa spoke quietly as the show resumed to its first act.

"If you dress like one, you are one." Luca hooked his leg over the other, folding his hands on his lap.

It was silent, not the awkward or tense silence, but silent to respect and see the performance. Silence or absolute noise, the stage was the latter. The good kind of noise. The skimpy dancers twirled with batons, the man and woman playing the perky main lovers belted the note they must have spent days and nights rehearsing over and over.

Luca knew there would be performances every night back in New York City. There was always something to do and somewhere to go, otherwise you'd be glued to your chairs at home.

The show was about to end, and Luca, for the first time in God's glorious mysterious time, took Teresa by the hand and curled them together on his lap, his eyes were fixated to theatricality in front of the hundreds of people.

Teresa reacts, slowly looking down. It was nearly dark, but she could feel the giant, lumpy rings from his fingers bump into hers. He always held her hand during a show, and would only let go to join the applause when a number came to its big finish, or when the grand finale brought hypnotic joy and bliss in each audience member's senses like himself that he just had to give the standing ovation.

But just as the audience erupted in deafening applause, cheers and whistles, Luca and Teresa remained the only two members seated, their hands still holding.

HIS hotel room was neat and tidy before he left, now the sheets on the giant bed wrinkled like aged skin when Luca held Teresa down to remove her stockings. She missed his touch. The feeling of being pinned on a bed as he dominated over her, practically tearing what she wore for the occasion just to see her underneath as a sight for his sore eyes, it was definitely there, and her heart pounded.

"Luca," she breathed out a moan. He kissed her softly, now only responding with pacing movements, from positioning her to grabbing the protection from the nightstand drawers. Though he was careful with the dress and fur shawl that was set on the office desk he sat in earlier, within seconds her brassiere was tossed on the floor. With the help from Teresa, she managed to undress Luca from head to toe by just sitting up, and he was now unclothed from the fresh tailored suit his uncle made back in Mott Street.

They kissed again, and Luca went in.

+ me writing "smut": 🧿👄🧿 but ooooo shiiiit their “business” meeting was quite a night lol.

#pink+white #luca changretta fanfiction #luca changretta x oc #luca changretta #luca changretta fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfic

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ma-gic-gay · 3 years

Note

Just as Michael's about to answer their question, Jason's phone goes off. "Perfect timing," he mutters before going outside to take the call. "Jason Morgan."

"Mr. Morgan, it appears Mr. Renault is at the office demanding to speak with you. What should I do?" One of his employees informs him.

"Cyrus has my number. If he would like to schedule a meeting, tell him he can call me and we'll have one."

"I've already told him that and he won't agree to it."

Dammit. Peace in this town is fragile enough; the last thing they need is an angry Cyrus. He's been unstable as of late, not agreeing to this could lead to a gunfight. Well, that's actually to be expected. "We'll meet at the office in twenty minutes then. Tell him to call off his men, including Brando. Look around the perimeter and have the rest of the guards check to make sure that there's no one on the premises or within range of hitting someone."

"Yes sir," the employee agrees, hanging up the phone.

"Business stuff?" Willow asks cautiously. After all, this is the first time she's been in this situation.

"Yeah," Michael answers, sensing from the businesslike stance he's taken in their kitchen. "Let's go check on the kids."

They leave the room and instantly Carly asks, "What did he do?"

"Demanded we meet. I don't know why or what this is about, so please tell me you didn't do anything stupid that could cost the truce to be undone."

"I haven't done anything. I've considered it, but I haven't done anything yet," she tells him. "How long til the meeting?"

"I've gotta get going. You have to stay here, this doesn't concern you. Cyrus is looking for a fight and you'll give him one. He's looking for any reason to violate the truce and take me out," Jason informs her. "I mean it. No showing up."

"Is it a solo meeting?"

"Yes."

"You want me to sit here and list out the times he's tried to kill you this past year and a half? Jason, you can't got to a meeting alone. You'll get killed!" Carly exclaims.

"No I won't, Carly. I've got it handled, I told you," he says, glancing at his watch.

"Yes you will! You need to stop agreeing to these one on one meetings because one of these days he's going to get you killed and I won't be able to survive that!"

"I told you, I'm not getting killed!"

"Can you predict the future? No, you can't! I know you might want to go and have this meeting but you can't do it alone!"

"I'm going to the meeting, Carly. You are going to stay here with your kids, grandkids, and Willow," he says, voice unbudging. She's not going to win.

"Promise me you'll come back."

"Carly-"

"Promise me, Jason, or you're not going!"

"I promise."

"Fine, you can go," she surrenders, hugging him. "But be safe."

"As safe as I can be, meeting with him," he agrees.

"Alright, well you better go now or you're not going to be able to say goodbye to the kids."

He bids them all goodbye, hugs Carly again, and leaves for the meeting. His gun is on him, as is his cell phone. Though the usefulness of a cell phone is to be questioned when it's a mob meeting he's having. Not like he can exactly call the police if anything happens, they'd arrest him.

Arriving at the office, he senses that today's going to be a long day.

"Hey Harry, is it clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Alright, thanks," he says before walking into the office. "Cyrus. What's so urgent?"

"Well, Sonny's been gone a year now. I was hoping we could revisit us joining together for a way to continue the peace in this town," Cyrus answers.

"Like I told you the day you found out he was missing, that isn't happening. You're not going to run your product through this town and ruin it. This was Sonny's territory and if he's not dead and comes back, it'll be his again. We both agreed no drugs. It's not happening. Is that all?" Jason asks, bored.

"No, actually. I was wondering how Mrs. Corinthos is holding up. Given that this is the anniversary of losing her husband, I'd presume not well."

"None of your damn business."

"No need to get so defensive, I'm merely posing a question. Trying to make conversation."

"If you don't have anything related to business to discuss, my men will escort you out."

"Oh, but I doubt you will," Cyrus says, laughing evilly. "You'll be too dead to even have the chance to get me out of this room." He takes his gun from his pocket rather dramatically for Jason's taste and aims for him.

Drawing his gun himself, the now mob boss ducks, narrowly missing the bullet before firing his own, missing the other mobster by only a few inches. That was on purpose; a warning shot of sorts. "It never occurred to me," the ponytail clad man continues unaffected, "that you'd be so easy to take out. I mean, really. Your reputation is that you're businesslike and directly to the point, but then you've agreed to several meetings with me alone. I was planning on having some fairly difficult plans to kill you, but you've simply fallen into my lap. I do suppose I feel a bit bad, however, that Mrs. Corinthos will have to deal with you being dead as well."

There's a line you just don't cross in business, and that's been crossed. He remembers his promise to not die and snaps into action. "Fire that gun again and I hit you right between the eyes," Jason warns, setting himself up for his shot.

"I sense I've hit a nerve," Cyrus smiles, "mentioning her like that. Tell me, Mr. Morgan, has it ever occurred to you that you're the reason she even knows about this business? With you gone, I suppose she'll be taking it over. Though I don't doubt her, I do doubt her ability to properly run this business. It's doubtful that she'll even make it a few weeks before she's ki-"

Another warning shot goes from Jason's gun, this one only barely above his head. "Last warning, Cyrus. This isn't a game. She's barely involved in this business and you have no right to bring her up when this fight is between us. So drop the gun and get on the ground."

Chuckling as though he doesn't even really believe that he's about to be taken out, Cyrus stupidly continues, "I'll probably send one of my men to kill her, you know. Try to make it painless out of respect for her."

"Talking about me?" Carly asks, walking in with armed guards. She's got the worst timing.

"Yes I was, Mrs. Corinthos. How are you?"

"I'd be better if you were in a casket six feet under," she answers calmly. "Now, put your gun down before I kill you with my bare hands."

Where the fuck did she learn how to do that? He didn't teach her, neither did Sonny. Who did? Not the point, Carly isn't supposed to be here. She's now got the chance to be shot. That would kill him faster than the bullet wound he feels he could get.

"You heard her," Jason says. "Gun down, on the ground."

Turns out that's what needed to be done. The guards with guns pointed at his head doesn't hurt either, he's sure, but Cyrus finally gets on the ground and drops his gun.

"Good. Get Mrs. Corinthos out of here, now," he orders, to her complaints. "Carly, just go."

"I, personally, have nothing against her being here," Cyrus voices.

"You have no say." When Carly leaves, Jason calmly continues, "You mention her name again in front of me and I'll kill you. Talk about your plan to take me out again and you'll be dead. Nothing is changing. This is your last warning. Next time you try to kill me or someone I care about, you'll be dead quicker than you can even move from the scene. Get out."

Angrily, the ponytail clad man leaves, escorted by the guards. Jason then makes sure everyone knows to make sure there's no evidence of what happened, and that there's especially none Carly was ever there before he joins her in her car.

It's a quiet ride, with him firing off orders for his men and her pouting.

"I was right! He wanted you dead! You fell right into his trap!" She exclaimed when they walked into the living room of her house.

"No I didn't! Carly, I had it all under control!"

"Gun pointed at you, Jason! I walked in and there was a gun pointed at you!"

"I had mine pointed at him too! You can't walk into a gunfight!"

"Oh, but you can start one? You can get shot, I can't? Is that how this works?"

"The only reason you'd be shot in general is because of me, Carly! I introduced you to the business, I'm the reason you and Sonny got together, and I'm the reason you're still apart of it. I can deal with getting myself shot, I've survived other bullets before, but I can't deal with you getting shot!"

"I didn't!"

"Yeah, because I kicked you out of there!"

"I brought the guards, I was safe!"

"You walked into a gunfight when I told you it was the stupid thing to do! I told you not to go but you couldn't help yourself, could you, and you went to the meeting."

"You want me to tell you I was wrong and apologize? I'm not gonna do that! You could've been killed! God knows what Sonny's livelihood status is, but yours is alive. Alive, Jason! I'm not risking you dying, alright?"

"I've survived bullets before, I'd survive this one!"

"How do you know that? I need you to stay alive, so I don't care what your feelings are on the subject and I'm not apologizing! If I had to do it again and it was the only option, I'd go unarmed and alone. I would've been shot if it meant saving you from that! Cyrus wants you dead!"

"I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died because of me! Your kids need their mother! Cyrus wants you dead too and I'll be damned if I let it happen."

"So what, Jason, you'll do the noble thing and die instead of me? That'll kill me. I couldn't breathe when we thought you were dead last time. Imagine how I'd be if I knew I was the one who caused it!"

"You're not dying!" He shouts back, but there's no edge to his tone anymore. He's less pissed. "Not when it's preventable. You're not getting shot either Carly. If I cause your death, I'll hate myself."

"And you think I won't hate myself if I cause yours?"

To be continued after midnight bc I have thing to add to my blog

eeee

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ccinagalaxyfaraway · 4 years

Note

Oh my gosh I can't stop thinking about that chapter in "i take from you everything you allow" where Wolffe asks Plo if he's got a light for his cigarette and Plo just lights it with freaking force lightning. Could you do write a sequel to that or an extension of that scene? It's one of my favorite chapters in that fic

So that took a little longer than expected, but at last:

cigarettes and cilantro

from [ lit ]

Jedi die as easily as anyone else.

The thought echoes in Wolffe’s mind. Jedi are not infallible. Shoot one, and he will fall over dead just like a trooper. There were so many bodies. He’d heard Generals Windu and Yoda speaking. One hundred eighty dead on the sands - and if they died like men, what else had he been taught that was a lie?

He throws his bucket onto his bunk. It rolls to a stop on top of his pillow, wobbling like a grave marker. He snarls and turns away from the macabre scene.

His hands won’t stop shaking. They’re going to give him a Jedi. The vode have been called to action, and they’re going to give him a fragile, mortal Jedi who is not at all an invincible god, and he is going to watch his Jedi die on some battlefield because they die, that’s what they do, and Wolffe is only a man. He’s only a man, and his shaking mortal hands won’t stop shaking, damn the little gods.

He paces laps around the room. He wants to run, but outside the rest of his brothers are celebrating their first action in ten long waterlogged years, and he doesn’t want to spoil their mood, even if they are all deluded and he’s the only one who sees things as they really are. The restless energy crawls under his skin. He needs something, anything to make it stop.

Bacara’s got that ARC vod who brings contraband in from off-world training exercises. The damn things smell like shit, but he swears they’re good for his nerves. It takes a few minutes to pick open Bacara’s footlocker and a few seconds to fish out the little paper box of cigarettes. The first breath burns, but he keeps at it and soon enough the tremors stop.

It’s not quite enough to get rid of his sense of impending doom, but he thinks that nothing can do that anymore. They’re all living on borrowed time. There’s a blaster shot out there with his name on it, and it’s just a matter of when it finds him.

There’s 576 troopers under his command, and 10 of them are still alive because their general is a reckless maniac. Plo Koon was supposed to be a nice, sensible High Councilor, not a walking mir’shupurla or’dinii like the 501st got, or a paklalatla diplomat like the 212th’s.

Plo Koon is somehow even worse, because he goes about with his bad ideas and his silver tongue cheerfully. As if life is a game of cards in which he is the dealer rigging the results, and he won’t stop smiling about it. All that osik about Jedi serenity and wisdom was exactly that; Wolffe has yet to talk to a single vod whose jetti is as advertised.

That alone would be enough to drive Wolffe to drink, except -

Well, the whole jetti thing aside, he’s practically the picture of mandokar. He’s stubborn and an unholy terror on the battlefield, and so very pleased to be alive. If Jango could see him - well, he’d probably try to kill him, but if Jango heard his description, he’d approve wholeheartedly. And to say nothing of his loyalty; if any CC had allowed such a maneuver and risked their priority asset for troopers who really should have known better, there would be hell to pay. But the man took one look at the situation and went off to save his men simply because they were alive and needed the help.

The part of Wolffe that is predisposed to falling for people with mandokar is already bracing for impact. The part of him responsible for protecting his charge is getting ready to pickle his own liver. Since there’s not a drop of alcohol in sight, both parts are going to have to settle for chain-smoking.

He’s got his own cigs now. Still crappy whatever’s-cheapest-and-available, but they get the job done. His standards, though low, do exist; he isn’t interested in cutting his already short lifespan materially shorter with death sticks. Bacara is a more understanding vod than, say, Fox, and didn’t kick up much of a fuss once his shit was replaced; now they swap complaints about their latest smokes. This one tastes even more like tar than usual and burns too quick.

He discards the remains of the cig and fishes out the next. A trooper - one of the lucky ones now singing the General’s praises - walks by.

“You okay, sir?” he asks.

“Just fine,” Wolffe grumbles, thumbing the wheel on his lighter for a spark. The shiny pauses.

“He’s really something, isn’t he?” he says. “The General. They said the Jedi were good, but I don’t think I really believed it. But he came back for us.”

“He did,” says Wolffe. “Don’t make him do it again,” he says, and takes a long drag.

His General uses Force lightning, and he uses it to light cigarettes. If that isn’t a frivolous use of the Force, Wolffe doesn’t know what is. He should probably be more concerned than he is, but the calming effect of the tobacco has already settled in.

He keeps going back to the moment Plo stepped in close, like a challenge, like an invitation, and the urge to get him up against the wall and make him show something other than his cool composure. There must be something under his facade of unshakable calm. He doesn’t have hair to pull, but his fussy, excessively draped robes would provide as good a handhold as anything. He’d resist, of course; the fight would be part of the fun, but they’ve already established that Wolffe is the better between them at hand-to-hand. Wolffe would win in the end.

They’d start with their usual exchange, short, sharp jabs to test one another’s guard, and then longer flurries as they warmed up. Wolffe would allow Plo to press forward, would draw him in slowly, gradually, until he was in throwing range. Plo would notice and fall back, and their dance would continue. And then Plo would tire, as he did without the Force, and he would slow, and maybe the first few times he lingered in range too long Wolffe would be lenient and allow him to escape, sliding just out of reach. But at the edge of his endurance, Wolffe would catch him and haul him down to the ground, hold him wrists to the dirt, pinned by Wolffe’s weight. And he’d lean in, their breaths mixing, and -

Ah, fuck. The cigarette has burned almost all the way down in the time that he’s been dreaming. He takes a last drag and shakes himself loose of the fantasy. It’s never going to happen anyway.

He’s sitting outside watching the stars and the arm of the galaxy in the night sky. There’s nothing left to do for the night. Everything’s tucked in and the captains can take care of whatever petty issues might arise. He’s got himself an honest-to-gods night off, and he knows exactly what he’s going to do with it.

Plo settles beside him, his robes brushing quietly against the grass, and obligingly provides a spark when Wolffe holds out a cig. The smoke curls unpleasantly in the air and Plo leans away, nose wrinkling behind his mask. It’s not especially poisonous to him; it just gets caught in the rebreather and takes forever to cycle out. Still he comes to join Wolffe when he has nothing to do except burn a pack.

“The benefits outweigh the drawbacks,” he says when Wolffe asks. “I’d accept your company however it is offered.” He lies stretched out on the ground, head so close to Wolffe’s hip, one clawed hand resting at the hollow where his ribs end, the other absently spinning a flower that smells like cold.

“You could ask me to stop,” says Wolffe. It’s just a pastime; he doesn’t get cravings. His hands don’t shake for lack of nicotine. But - why not indulge a little when tomorrow and its consequences may never come? Will likely never come, even, the way the war is going.

Plo hums instead of giving an answer. “I think, when we return to the ship, I should like to plant a garden.”

“Oh?” There’s not very much room that hasn’t already been claimed. A corner in the bay area that used to be for shuttles. Maybe he could clear out a spot by the engines. Plants liked heat, right?

Plo hums again. “I have not tasted kand in many years. It grows poorly away from Dorin.”

Wolffe resists the urge to comment. Dorin doesn’t share any of its creations well, present company included. In fact, Wolffe is convinced present company might have a few more working brain cells had he not convinced the Sages to convince General Windu to bring him to Coruscant. But Plo continues as though he can’t feel the sarcasm coming off Wolffe in waves.

“It’s a shrub, you see. Maintaining the necessary environment through the first nonproductive seasons makes it an unattractive option for commercial off-world growers. Only a few attempts have been made, even by the Agri-Corp.”

“Seems like you might be better off trying something else,” says Wolffe. “Seems like a lot of work for something that you might never see.”

“Perhaps,” says Plo, and then he takes off on another tangent.

He’s thinking about tomorrow and all the days that come after, and he’s thinking about what being happy feels like, and mostly he’s thinking about Plo, because he can have Plo if he wants and he knows it, and he’ll take Plo even if he might lose him later, and the losing will hurt more than anything else ever could, but the not having is even worse. And each moment of having makes the possible Plo-less future even more terrifying, but also moves the future where he gets to keep Plo closer into reach, and that’s worth it, isn’t it? To have and to hold, and to keep reaching for the future that he wants.

He’s thinking and Plo is coming to him, and he’s got a cigarette between his fingers, the last of the box. He bends it in half and bins it unlit.

“Not to your taste?” Plo asks, falling into step behind him.

“Nah,” says Wolffe. “Think I’ve found something better.”

#plo koon #commander wolffe #plowolffe #ploffe #promptfic #critroller #fic

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