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“You’ll let us fuck you into oblivion but not care for you when you’re injured?”
Winnie being realistic af wasn't on my bingo card but wtv
my feelings on the Crocodile are ten times worse. I’m not sure there is a word in the dictionary that would suffice for what I feel for the Crocodile.
👀👀👀
Sometimes when I lie in bed, I can see him in my mind’s eye. The hard lines of his body. The sharp teeth. A chill fills the room and I’m not sure if it’s the ocean breeze or the sensation of my own rage borne to life.
sure...rage is the emotion you're feeling...yup👀👀
“Get her a drink,” he tells Vane and for some reason the Dark One doesn’t balk. He returns a few seconds later with a fresh glass of bourbon and holds it to my lips. “Drink,” he orders. If I had known getting fucked hard by the twins would make Vane take care of me, I would have done it a lot sooner.
“If I ever lose control, promise me you’ll knee me in the balls or stab me in the face.” “I will never do that—” “Promise me,” he says on a growl and drags his teeth over the sensitive flesh just beneath my ear. I yip in surprise and shrink in on myself. “Promise me, Darling. It’s the only way you get me.”
I love him
“There you are. Where the fuck have you two been?” “Fucking,” I say proudly. Vane groans. Pan’s gaze darts between us and I notice he gets caught on the fresh bruises around my throat. “Are you all right?” he asks. “I am magnificent.” “Quit bragging,” Vane says. “It does not become you.” “On the contrary. It becomes me very well.”
*giggling, twirling my hair, kicking my feet*
He uncorks the salve and nudges my chin up with the hard ridge of his knuckle and then dips his fingers into the green goo. His touch is gentle as he rubs it into my skin and when the warmth sinks in, my eyes slip closed and I exhale. “Better?” he asks.
“I’m worried that this is some kind of illusion, like maybe the twins are tricking me into thinking you’re here. And I’m terrified that it will end.”
I hurry into his bed, my heart picking up speed in my chest, butterflies hammering at my navel. He slides in next to me and pulls me into him, then tucks the blanket around us. I am so happy it hurts. Surrounded by his scent, nestled in his arms. I don’t want the bubble to burst. I don’t want to cry like an idiot. “I am here,” he says, his voice raspy at my ear as he holds me at his side, his fingers trailing up my arm. “Do you feel that?” “Yes.” I shiver beneath him. “I am here and I am real and I’m not going anywhere.”
I don’t know why, but his relief at seeing us all getting along makes me feel something deep in my chest that almost feels like warmth. Please let this be real.
He nods and then turns away. And then— He races back to me, grabs me by the jaw, and kisses me roughly. A contented sigh escapes him and then he’s kissing me again and we slam against the nearest wall.
