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starmapz · 5 months ago

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what you know - ch11: scars || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic attacks. mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 15.3k.

❦ a/n ; please note the tags have been updated. see you at the bottom!

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

Your eyes flutter open to the silence of your empty apartment. Your blankets envelop you in a deep and heavy cocoon as sunlight filters through the blinds. It should be warm, but your limbs are chilled with the remnants of your grief following the argument with Sukuna the night before.

Right.

Sighing, you move languidly to rub at your eyes, blinking them a few times to rid them of the groggy feeling that plagues you. Your limbs feel as though they’re being dragged down by weights as each movement proves to be an effort. As your vision clears and you find yourself staring at the ceiling, it occurs to you it’s too well-lit for you to have woken up before your alarm.

Pushing yourself up on your elbow, you sigh as your muscles protest against every movement. Flipping your phone up to face you, you find yourself blinking at the time, unable to process just how exactly you managed to sleep through the blaring of your alarm.

By three hours.

Clearly that had caught Kento’s attention as well, as he’d left a voicemail, called twice, and sent a number of texts. Even with all the turmoil in your life lately, you haven’t missed a class, so clearly a few alarm bells had gone off for your friend.

Plopping back down into the plush of your pillows, you groan and rub your eyes again.

It’s hard to tell exactly how long you lay there before grabbing your phone to check your messages. You don’t even have the energy to listen to the voicemail, heading straight to your text thread with him.

Friday 8:33 AM - Kento || Hi. It’s unlike you to be late. Is everything alright?

Friday 9:31 AM - Kento || Do you need a hand with anything?

Friday 9:58 AM - Kento || I’m getting concerned. Please reply to something to let me know you’re alright.

Friday 10:04 AM - Kento || Please answer my calls. Send me a text. Something to let me know you’re okay.

Friday 10:13 AM - Kento || That’s it. I’m on my way.

Oh, fuck.

Your eyes flicker up to the time. 10:28 AM. If he’s walking from campus, chances are he’ll be at your door at any second. You would think that would be the push you need to get out of bed, but you can’t physically bring yourself to do so. Somehow, sitting and staring at the ceiling feels like the better option here.

Well, no. It doesn’t. But no amount of willpower will move your body from the blankets that envelop you in a warm hug. They’re the closest thing you have to comfort when your eyes burn and your throat’s dry from the amount of tears cried the previous night.

That’s not even beginning to mention the onset of the headache beginning to hammer at your brain.

Unfortunately, the comfort doesn’t last long when there’s a knock at your door in time with the pounding of your head. Kento’s muffled but familiar voice calls your name, but all you can do is stare at the ceiling.

You want to be alone. You don’t particularly feel like listening to Kento or Shoko’s ‘I told you so’ speech, or how either of them are going to teach Sukuna a lesson. It won’t ease your melancholy and it certainly won’t ease your guilt. That’s not to say you don’t appreciate the thought, but your bed is more appealing right now than being dragged to campus or out for a meal.

Another rap at the door. Another call of your name.

Still, you blankly stare at the ceiling, one arm draped over your middle clutching your phone. You feel bad, guilty, for ignoring Kento after he walked all this way in the cold, but you can pay him back later.

For now, you just need a day to yourself.

Unfortunately, Kento doesn’t seem to agree with you.

Your phone vibrates in your hand as it rings, Kento’s name flashing across the screen. You groan again, rolling onto your side as you hit the green button.

“Hello?” Your voice is raw, cracking at the end of the one word you manage to utter out.

“Hi. Did you receive my texts? I was worried when you didn’t reply, but you don’t sound well.”

Dragging your hands roughly across your features, you contemplate telling him you’re sick, but it doesn’t sit well in your gut to lie to your friend after ignoring him. “I did, sorry. I slept through my alarm.”

“I see.” You can vaguely hear his voice outside your door still, but you can’t bring yourself to move. “Are you sick?”

Yes. Yes. Yes. “No.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line before Kento seems to make up his mind. “Let me in. I know you’re inside.”

“It’s fine, I’ll get ready and-”

The tone he uses as he says your name has you throwing your head back against the pillow. It’s the kind of tone that mimics one your mother might have used on you as a child, and if this were anyone aside from Kento, you might have had more to say. Unfortunately, he’s a very convincing (and often relentless) man.

“Fine. One moment.”

Flipping onto your back again, you stare at the ceiling for a second longer, which turns into a minute longer, which turns into more knocks at the door and Kento’s muffled voice asking you to open the door. With a final forlorn sigh, you manage to push yourself to your feet, find a hoodie to throw on over your fuzzy kitty cat shorts and tank top, and drag yourself over to the door.

Kento is standing just outside your apartment in beige slacks and a big forest green coat. His eyes scan your face, flickering down to the baggy hoodie that adorns your top, before he grimaces. It feels painfully like the equivalent of hearing ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’, without a word even being spoken.

Straightening, his expression goes neutral as he accepts your silent invitation to enter, immediately rooting around cupboards in your kitchen and pulling out two mugs. He continues his search, pulling out tea and setting your kettle to boil. When he’s satisfied with his work, he turns to lean his hip against the counter. The only hint you get of what’s going through his mind is a barely noticeable twitch of his brow as you’re glued in place to where he left you just inside the door.

“Um- you don’t have to do all that,” you make a meek attempt at stopping him, receiving only a raised brow in return.

“A little late for that, no?”

Your lips part as you evaluate the scene behind him, the kettle already beginning to boil, tea bags sitting in mugs. You chew on your lip, wincing at how raw it is under your teeth.

“So tell me,” he begins, arms crossed over his chest. “What has you sleeping through your alarm?”

The intonation behind his words briefly has you feeling like a child who’s been caught by their parents doing something bad. Sighing, you relent, languidly finding your way to the table shoved into the corner of the small apartment kitchen. Your face falls as you lean over the table, the photo definition of exhaustion.

“Sukuna and I got into a fight last night,” you admit.

Kento’s expression hardens, his jaw tightening as his sharp eyes narrow just enough to tell you he’s beyond mad. As the kettle whistles behind him, his movements are measured as he pours boiling water into each mug with a glance at his watch to allow them the perfect amount of time to steep.

“Milk and sugar?”

“Please,” you murmur, staring at the subtle shadow your fingers cast over the table as you tap them rhythmically across the wooden surface.

Kento moves evenly, his gaze drawn to the full mugs to ensure he doesn’t spill as he sets one in front of you, holding the other close to him as he pulls out a chair beside you for himself.

“I won’t force you to talk about the argument,” he begins in a measured tone, as though he needs a moment before addressing the subject to keep his frustrations at bay. “However, I would like to talk about how you’re feeling.” He swirls the small teaspoon in his mug, his eyes flickering up to meet yours.

The steam billowing from the mug in front of you draws your gaze, swirling and dissipating at your eye level.

“You’re too…” you search for a word, leaning on your hand, “perceptive,” you grumble, not particularly in the mood to talk about how you’re feeling either.

Kento’s lips twitch upwards just enough to let you know he heard you.

“I’m just tired, I think.”

Bringing his mug to his lips, Kento hums. He leaves the dialogue open for you to talk about what you want to, rather than pressing. He’s always been overly considerate in that way, even as kids.

Sliding your finger up the side of the mug and pulling it towards yourself, allowing the steam to soothe your pounding head, you sigh, finally relenting to Kento’s kindness.

“I’m just so frustrated. I put my all into our friendship, into helping him with everything and with the lawsuit, and he just-” you shake your head, waving a hand through the air. “He just turns everything into an argument, and he’s never willing to talk things through.” You drag a hand over your face, pressing your fingers hard into your temple in an attempt to will away your headache.

Despite the obvious tension riddling his muscles, Kento remains calm and steady. “No one can blame you for being frustrated with him,” he agrees, taking another sip of his tea in order to keep his less pleasant opinions on Sukuna to himself. “Not everyone grew up with my mother breathing down their neck, after all,” he chuckles mostly to himself, a memory popping into his mind of his psychiatrist of a mother scolding you for not telling Kento how you felt when he ate the last piece of your birthday cake one year.

Of course, you were both barely seven, and the argument was over cake, completely inconsequential. Yet, you’d still both learned a very valuable lesson. Not necessarily from the single incident, but his mother had a certain way of scolding both of you and Yu, that had the three of you growing up extremely in tune with your own emotions and your capability of discussing them.

“Your mom’s an angel,” you mumble with a small smile.

Humming in agreement, Kento nods. “She is. My perspective, however, is that Sukuna didn’t have the privilege of growing up with someone like her.” For someone so blatantly angry with Sukuna’s treatment of you, he’s shockingly reasonable as you discuss your frustrations. “I may not know much about him, but I would be willing to wager a guess that he finds it difficult to discuss how he’s feeling.”

“I could have told you that.”

Kento cocks a brow at your sassy reply. “My point,” he continues, “is that some people are not worth your time. It may be worth thinking about whether he is.”

There’s his anger.

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” you shrug, blowing on your tea.

“The argument was that serious?”

You drum your fingers over the side of the mug. “I told him he wasted his last chance with me.”

“I see,” he pauses, considering his words carefully. “I’m glad you stood up for yourself,” he speaks in a very genuine tone, “but you don’t seem happy about the outcome.”

You let the silence hang over you both for a moment, finally taking a sip of your tea. You would have put more milk, but it’s still nice.

You mull over Nanami’s words. No, you’re not happy. You’re not happy that you cried through the night, or that you’re upset over Sukuna’s cutting words. But worst of all, you’re not happy that he chose to waste his last chance with you.

He’d been so certain it wouldn’t happen again, yet things are never so simple with him, are they? There’s always a way he can dig himself further underground, to drown in his own sorrows.

So why are you harboring guilt so wholeheartedly alongside the hurt? Why are you allowing him the satisfaction of hurting you and feeling the culpability of your own actions when you tried to fix things on the spot?

Why do you still feel the urge to go back and check on him?

Why are you crying again?

Your eyes are hot with tears as you find yourself using the back of your hand to wipe your cheeks.

Kento offers a reassuring hand on your upper arm, giving it a gentle rub with his thumb. “You can lean on me, if you need.”

“I’m okay,” you manage, sniffling once as you force what may be the least convincing smile your blonde friend has ever seen.

“I’d beg to differ,” he frowns, giving your arm a light squeeze as he sighs. “It’s okay to be down,” he reminds you with a genuine look of sympathy as his anger towards Sukuna dissipating in place of his concern for you.

Your lip quirks up slightly at his words. You’d only just spoken that exact sentiment to Choso not that long ago, now it was being used against you like cruel irony. You suppose it makes sense the phrase would have come from Nanami, or more specifically his mom.

“You’re right, I know,” you relent, leaning forward on your palm with your elbow bent against the table. You can’t deny your own words, you know you should talk to Kento, even if it isn’t easy to do so. Your eyes flicker to the woven bracelets that slide down your wrist that you don’t have the heart to cut off as you contemplate what you want to say.

Your mouth opens and closes a number of times before you compose yourself, sitting upright and facing your friend. His aloof expression remains intact as you open and close your mouth a number of times before finally managing to spit something out.

“Can I tell you something?”

He nods.

“We kissed. Right before finals, last semester,” you begin, chewing on your raw lip with a subtle wince at the hot pain that shoots through it. Nanami nods in acknowledgement, refraining from passing judgement. “Then, at Satoru’s party, the one that you missed when you headed back home, he rejected me… I guess.” Saying it aloud feels somehow surreal, as though considering the kiss (if it could even be called just a kiss) nothing more than a passing craving is a criminal offence.

But at the end of the day, he called it a mistake. He backtracked and picked up the pieces and made it clear that he wants you in his life, but not like that.

Wanted you in his life.

Wanted.

Rubbing your hands harshly over your features in an effort to quell the tears that seem to relentlessly trail down the soft skin of your cheeks, you suck in a sharp breath and continue. “And that’s fine, I was okay with just being his friend,” you whisper, your voice betraying your anguish. “But even though he rejected me and I knew nothing would happen, I still fell in love with him.”

The floodgates absolutely shatter in that moment, a mess of salty tears and barely contained sobs falling from you. The admission carries so much weight, yet voicing it doesn’t lift the burden from your heart. Rather, the air around you seems heavy in comparison to only a moment ago.

Kento frowns, sliding his chair closer to you to allow him to draw you into his side. He’s always been particularly good at comfort, for someone so stoic. “I know,” he sighs, a gentle hand rubbing your shoulder. “I think everyone at our table knows apart from you and him.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you sniffle, “that just makes this all more embarrassing,” you mumble with a sad chuckle.

Kento hums, a tinge of humor surrounding the sound. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You can’t help who you fall for.” He pats your shoulder reassuringly, pulling back to sit in his own seat as he shoots you an earnest look. “Why don’t you spend the weekend relaxing? You can return to your studies on Monday,” he suggests, changing the subject as you wipe the remnants of tears from your eyes. “I can drop some dinner off after class, if you’d like the company.”

It sounds nice, it really does.

But thinking about Sukuna has you realizing that you have a test in a few hours that you can’t afford to miss.

Life stops for no one.

Not even the heartbroken girl who’s entirely too sweet for her own good.

“That’s alright,” you shoot him a wry smile, “I need to get to my afternoon class. I have an exam.”

“Less than ideal timing,” Kento scowls. His expression mirrors one you’ve seen on his mother’s face before, back when you were children.

“Stop assessing me,” you scold him. “You aren’t even in Psych.”

Kento chuckles quietly, caught. “Sorry,” he apologizes, checking the time. “In that case, why don’t we head to campus together? We can grab something to eat on the way.”

“Sure, that sounds nice. Will you be okay to wait while I get ready?” You query with a small tilt of your head.

“I’m sure I can find something to do,” he assures you.

Your chair slides across the floor as you get to your feet, beginning your morning routine a few hours later than usual.

By the time you’ve managed to pull yourself together as best as your motivation will allow, you find yourself staring at the mirror, letting out a long sigh. You’ve done your best to cover up the remnants of the many hours of tears that were cried, but foundation and concealer only goes so far, and you can’t bring yourself to do any more makeup. Your limbs are simply too heavy to be bothered. Your outfit isn’t exactly doing you any favors to hide your mental state either, a pair of sweatpants adorning your lower half while a pale pink oversized hoodie hangs loosely over your shoulders.

It’ll have to do.

It’s not until you arrive at the lunch hall that you realize that your appearance might seem a bit out of place to the rest of the table. Still, you assure them as many times as you can that you’re just tired. It’s true, but it’s hard to keep the facade up when even Toji is shooting you the occasional look as though ‘Sukuna broke my heart’ is tattooed across your forehead.

You even debate going to check at one point, but Kento assures you that everything is fine, offering to walk you to your class. He beckons Shoko along with him, who practically has an outburst as soon as you’re out in the chilly air on your way to the lecture hall.

“I’ll kick his ass. I’m gonna make him wish he never even met you. I’ll-”

“Stop! Stop. Please,” you plead with wide eyes. You appreciate her zealousness, but if you have to hear another threat to Sukuna’s balls from her, you think you may just need to rip your ears off. “Is it that obvious?” You pout, though the humor you try to lace into the expression gets lost along the way.

Shoko’s shoulders fall as she pulls you in for a hug. “I’m sorry,” she says softly, both as an apology for coming out the gates swinging and a show of sympathy. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll live,” you reply quietly with a tight-lipped smile, though she can’t see it as she holds you.

“Why don’t you stay at mine this weekend?”

“That’s okay, Sho,” you hum, pulling back with a heavy sigh. “I think I need some time.”

Shoko doesn’t seem convinced, shooting Nanami an uncertain look, but she nods regardless. “If you say so.” Her brow curls in thought as she pulls back from you. “Girls’ night tonight?” She resigns from the idea of the full weekend, still pushing for something, knowing you otherwise would likely waste away alone under the covers of your bed.

“I’m not really-”

“Actually, not up for discussion!” She decides, pointing a finger at you. “Meet me outside the research building, my lecture ends at three.” She then turns to Kento. “We’ll grab you from class once we’re both out.”

His brow raises. “For what?”

“Girls’ night.”

With a deep sigh, he presses his thumb to the crease between his brows. “I was under the impression that getting my nails done was a one-time thing.”

Shoko shoots him an innocent smile. “Nope. You’re in it for life now.”

“I’m thrilled,” he grimaces, though there’s a nearly imperceptible hint of warmth that swirls in his tawny irises. He turns his attention back towards you, motioning with his chin towards the building a few steps away. “Go ace your exam.”

“Thanks, Kento. Both of you,” you turn your attention to Shoko, hugging her again.

“Don’t thank me yet,” she smiles, “because this conversation isn’t over.” It comes across as a warning, but you’re grateful to have such supportive friends to fall back on.

Turning to your class, you’re relieved they can’t see the frown that pulls your lips down immediately as you’re faced with thoughts that Sukuna likely doesn’t have anyone to lean on. Maybe Uraume, but they didn’t seem to know what had happened as far as you could tell at lunch.

You can only hope the fallout of the argument isn’t as dire on him as it has been on you. Unfortunately, that hope fizzles out when you enter the lecture hall and find the seat beside yours empty.

As the professor passes the exam out to the students around the hall, slowly making her way up to your seat, you find dread settling in the pit of your stomach. Sukuna’s failed. He’s not here, and you know he’s not coming. No matter what happened between you and no matter the fact that you know you need to let go, you can’t help but worry.

It’s just who you are.

You swallow hard at the sympathetic look your professor gives you as she hands your test to you.

You want to tell her you tried.

Yet somehow, it all feels fruitless. There’s no point. It doesn’t matter anymore.

You need to focus on your test.

–

Fiddling with the colored twine wrapped around your wrist, you stare out into the crowd in front of you. Your vision blurs at the edges, the bright colors of different clothes all seeming to blend as you stare mindlessly out at the sweaty bodies making rounds of Satoru’s frat house.

The bass of whatever party playlist your friend’s thrown on surrounds you, and yet you can hardly hear it over the ringing in your ears.

How many times had you nodded when Satoru asked if you wanted another drink? Six? Seven? More?

Your attention turns down to the red cup in your hands as you find yourself staring at the vodka and sprite fizzing as you swirl it in the cup.

It may have been a couple of weeks, but between your less-than-ideal exam score in Literature History and the lingering heartbreak, drinking away the pain had seemed like the best course of action for the night. The key word being had. Now, looking out into the crowd with more than a buzz and your mind filled with static, you’re starting to regret that decision.

You thought you would forget. Forget and party, maybe kiss some hot frat boy and pretend everything with Sukuna had all been a bad dream, but that wasn’t the case at all.

Instead, you’d embarrassed yourself in front of Suguru by spilling every single detail about your kiss with Sukuna, leaving the poor man shocked and concerned for you, only to excuse yourself to get another drink. Now, plopped down on the couch with a heart that aches, you contemplate just grabbing a cab and going home. You’re not even sure how late it is, or how long you’ve been here, but sitting alone on the couch in front of the dancefloor feels… well, pathetic.

Throwing your head back on the cushion, you head to the kitchen and dump your drink down the sink. Satoru can afford it, and your mind and heart sure as hell can’t.

You turn your blurry vision back to the crowd, chewing on your lip as you search for Shoko, Satoru, Suguru… Even Toji, Uraume, or Atsuya, who you had spotted earlier.

Anything to distract you from the horribly lonely thoughts.

Of all the things that the heartbreak of leaving Sukuna’s apartment that night had caused, you never imagined that loneliness would tug at you so strongly. You spent every moment of spare time with Sukuna, Yuji and Choso, and now… your spare time feels empty. Movies, music, books, TV, it’s all little more than a distraction.

Still, the time away from the man in question had allowed you an opportunity to pick up pieces of yourself you hadn’t even realized were spilled across the floor like dried paint. Impossible to fully pick up, but mostly wiped away. You’d needed to fill the pieces in with new ones. They didn’t fit quite right, they weren’t… Well, there’s no need to think about him. Even if the pieces aren’t moulded quite correctly and leave behind cracks, you’re healing.

It’s what you told yourself anyway. That your new friendships with Toji, Atsuya and Uraume could fill the gaps eventually if you allowed yourself to nurture them.

But at the end of the day, it all connects back to him. If it were a normal day, you would have been satisfied with those new friendships.

But you’re drunk. And everyone looks like Sukuna if you squint too hard.

“My bad, are you alright?” a familiar voice rings out in the air around you as the fridge door accidentally knocks into your side, pulling you from your thoughts. You stumble forward, catching yourself on the kitchen counter.

“Hiromi,” you blink in surprise at the sight of the law student, his attire a complete one-eighty from the last time you came across him with-

Fuck.

Shaking your head, you shoot him a smile. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” You swallow hard, crossing your arms over your chest to push down stray thoughts of a certain salmon-haired man.

“How’ve you been?” He queries, leaning back against the stainless steel fridge once it shuts and he’s got a drink in his hand.

“Not too bad,” you lie steadily, your hands suddenly feeling empty without the comfort of a drink.

Maybe you should have kept the cup.

“How’re you?” You bounce the question back at him, surprised when your words come out slurred. Are you really that drunk?

“Good, good. Getting as ready as I can for midterms,” he smiles, his sunken eyes crinkling at the corners as he exchanges niceties with you. You can see how he’s friends with Kento, they share a certain sense of warmth and openness that you’re sure makes it easy for them to get along with anyone.

“Me too,” you nod. “But S’toru loves to drag us out to parties,” you chuckle wryly.

Hiromi nods in acknowledgment. “Sounds right from what I know of the guy. How’s Sukuna? Everything going alright with the, uh, lawsuit?”

Based on the way Hiromi blinks in confusion, you must blanche. Or maybe it’s the way you go silent. Or the way your face falls.

What does it matter?

Regardless, Hiromi stands up straight, running a hand through his disheveled hair. A stray strand falls over his forehead as he takes a step towards you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to, uh-” he pauses, glancing around uncertainly. “I didn’t know it was a touchy subject, I’m sorry.”

You swallow down your emotions, forcing a brave face and a tight-lipped smile. At least you aren’t crying. “It’s fine, you didn’ know.”

His lips part, but he doesn’t seem too sure of what to say.

“It was good t’ see you,” you offer him an out, but to your shock he doesn’t take it. He would be like Nanami in that way.

“I’m, uh, heading to sit with Kento if you wanted to join me,” he dismisses your offer, tilting his chin in the direction of the front door. “He’s by the stairs.”

“He’s here?”

Hiromi’s shoulders relax as he nods.

“That’d be great.”

Squeezing through the crowd of sweaty bodies that reek of alcohol and weed- though you probably do too- you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as the stairs come into sight. Sure enough, your blonde friend’s familiar face turns to you and Hiromi. He’s still in his usual button-down with pale beige slacks, but the sleeves are rolled up past his elbows and he seems at ease.

At the sight of an approaching person, Kento’s attention shifts, flickering between Hiromi and you.

“Look who I found,” Hiromi smiles, plopping down on the stairs.

Your name slips past Kento’s lips as a greeting.

“Hey, Kento,” you put your best effort into the smile, taking a seat beside him on the stairs. He’s sitting next to a woman you don’t recognize, though based on how Hiromi immediately launches into conversation with her, you assume they’re friends. “‘M surprised you’re here.”

The blonde motions to his formal outfit, too dressed up for a party. “As am I,” he concurs. “Yu dragged me here, then disappeared.”

Although this isn’t his scene, Kento usually shows up to Satoru’s parties regardless, and keeps mostly to himself and your group. He’s made it clear he isn’t a fan, and he’s not particularly close to Satoru as far as your group goes, finding his boisterous personality mildly irritating, however he’s happy to look out for his friends while they’re drinking.

“At least y’ found Hiromi,” you point out, to which Kento nods.

“I still would prefer to be studying,” he sighs, bringing a hand up to scratch his chin. His eyes are still sharp, hardly dulled by the meager amount of alcohol in his system. Beer and coolers aren’t exactly his forté, and he’s not about to bring whiskey to a frat party. In fact, you wouldn’t be shocked if all he’d had to this point was a sip.

“May as well enjoy it now th’t you’re here,” you offer a smile, shrugging. “Satoru n’ Suguru were playing beer pong last time I saw ‘em, and Shoko n’ Uraume are in the back corner talking to some o’ their classmates.”

Kento hums, staring blankly at the beige wall ahead of the stairs. “And you?”

“What ‘bout me?”

“Why aren’t you with either of them?” He asks, turning to face you.

You blink a couple of times, before absently shrugging. “Jus’ needed some space, I guess.”

Kento examines your expression for a moment too long, and even in your haze of drunkenness, it sends a shiver down your spine. He grimaces finally, his brows pulled together in concern.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

He scowls harder.

“Drunk, and fine.”

Recognition of your half-lie flashes through his eyes.

Too drunk to remember you have makeup on, you rub at your eyes with your thumb and pointer finger, sighing. “I’m jus’ more drunk than I thought. But fine, really.”

Kento sighs, abandoning his drink with Hiromi as he pushes to his feet. “Come on,” he urges you, pulling you to your feet alongside him. The amount you rely on him to pull you up surprises even you as he keeps you steady while he searches for Shoko. He threads through the dancefloor, leading your unsteady gait past the beer pong tables as Suguru sinks a ball in your journalism classmate’s cup, met with the cheers of the surrounding crowd. In your haze, you barely notice the kitchen and living room all coming into sight, until Kento brings you to a halt behind the beer pong tables at the back of the living room.

With lidded eyes, you survey your surroundings. Discarded bottles of beer and coolers lay across the floor and the back of the couch, which Toji is lounging in. He yawns, taking another sip of his beer as his emerald eyes flicker up to you. His lips twitch up into a smirk as he catches your eye.

“You a lil’ tipsy?” He queries.

You only manage a nod before Kento is gently setting you down between Toji and Uraume. You can scarcely hear the blonde over the pumping bass of the pop music blaring through the speakers, but at the sound of your name, you tune in.

“I’m taking her out- would you like to join?”

Shoko shakes her head, her attention trained on a brunette with a scar over the side of her face.

“Shit, are you goin’ for food?”

Kento’s brow raises as he turns to Toji and nods. “That was my plan.”

“Fuck, count me in. Satoru’s got this place stocked like he’s never made a fuckin’ dime.”

“Ouch?” The man in question feigns a shot to the heart dramatically as he steps through the crowd, shooting Toji a look.

“Don’t act like a fuckin’ Snickers bar wasn’t your dinner,” Toji scoffs, the scar at the corner of his lip pulled taut.

“It was a good dinner,” he shrugs.

“This is why ya can’t handle your alcohol.”

Before you know it, the four of you are all piling into Kento’s tiny silver Honda Civic, possibly the strangest group of four all piled into a car. A business major, football player, frat boy, and literature major, two of whom you’re certain annoy Kento, but parties may just bother him more.

“Shouldn’t you be looking after your own party, Gojo?” Kento shoots him a glare through the rearview mirror as the white-haired man lets out a loud belch.

“Nah, the frat’s got it covered,” he dismisses his friend before grimacing in your direction. “And my bedroom door is locked, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

The meaning behind his words passes completely over your head as you stare out the window, ignoring the two men in the back.

“Where’re you takin’ us, anyway?” Toji asks, leaning so far into his chair that his knees continually hit the back of your seat.

“Denny’s.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Satoru and Toji make steady conversation in the back of the car until you pull into the parking lot of the nearest Denny’s. Kento makes his way around the car to help you, sighing as you brush him off and trail very slowly after him, staring up at the dimly-lit diner sign as though you’ve never seen it before.

Your group follows the waitress to a table, where you stare at the menu, but it’s all a blur. Your eyes are trained on a photo of a waffle covered in chocolate syrup and it’s at this point that you realize that it’s not just the menu, but most of the night that’s a blur.

In fact, you know you just got here, and you hardly remember a thing.

Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re a happy drunk.

Instead, it feels as though you’re wading through your own misery, hardly keeping afloat.

“Do you know what you want?” Kento nudges you as the waitress makes her way over to you.

You shake your head no, wobbling slightly.

His brow furrows as he examines you. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you dismiss him again, but now even Toji and Satoru are staring your way.

“Lemme guess,” Toji starts, leaning forward over the table on his forearms. “Sukuna.”

You’d managed to keep the fight with Sukuna under wraps for the last couple of weeks, only by studying during lunch and excusing yourself before anyone could ask about him, but now it seemed there was no escaping it.

“Not the time, Toji,” Kento warns with a sharp glare, before asking the waitress for water for the table and a few more minutes to look at the menu.

“It’s fine,” you shrug. “Yeah, it’s Sukuna,” you tell the raven-haired football player.

“Shit, ‘course it is,” Toji snorts, though he’s not shocked. “I’ll kick his ass for you.”

“You really don’t-”

“I knew he’d pull some shit,” Satoru interrupts, waving a hand dramatically through the air. “Toji and I’ll-”

“No no nonono-” you wave your hands in front of the table to get their attention. “Just- leave ‘im be. We both made mistakes. I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve been saying that word a lot lately. Fine. Yet you don’t seem it,” Kento points out, and you’re surprised even he’s jumping on the train to kick Sukuna’s ass, in his own subtle way.

“Yeah, well-” you pause, watching as the waitress sets water before each of you. With a haphazard swirl of the glass in front of you, you shrug. “I thought the alcohol would help.”

“Alcohol is a depressant,” Kento points out in typical fashion, earning deadpan glares from not only you, but Toji, and Satoru as well.

“Lighten up, Nanamin, let the girl drink.” Satoru gives your glass a tap from across the table with a drunken grin, taking a sip as though it isn’t water. Kento grimaces at your side, but remains quiet. “You don’t need that asshole,” Satoru continues, swinging his hand through the air again as though he might just hit Sukuna. “You’ve got us, and we’re gonna haaaaaave-” He pauses, his finger skimming across the laminated menu in his hand. “Cinnamon roll pancakes à la carte.”

“Maybe you are,” Toji snorts, shaking his head. He opens his mouth to voice his order, but Satoru’s already pulling the menus from all of your hands as the waitress approaches again.

“Nah, listen. The secret to getting over some asshole issss-” He waits for the waitress to return, shooting her a kind smile. “Four cookies n’ cream milkshakes, and four stacks of cinnamon bun pancakes. À la carte. Please,” he grins, using that sultry sweet smile he’s perfected that has you giggling at the disdain on both Kento and Toji’s faces.

To your surprise, it turns out the cure to heartbreak is a stack of cinnamon bun pancakes tall enough to make you puke. Or maybe that feeling is from the alcohol you had entirely too much of. Either way, you find yourself forgetting about him and focusing on now. The people who show up when you’re down, even if Satoru and Toji are only here at the mention of food.

But as you find yourself laughing and really, truly, enjoying yourself, your heart feels warm and the cracks left behind by Sukuna begin to heal. They’ll leave behind jagged scars in the form of him and his little brothers, a point in your life that you’re still fond of, and you think you always will be. You don’t regret what you did for any of them, the proof of that still tied around your wrist, but you do wish you could at least have apologized properly for hurting him.

The worst part of all may be that you’re not sure if those scars will ever fade. The love you felt- feel- for him, is beyond what you’ve ever felt before. The way he showed his care may have been unconventional, but it worked for you. Maybe it was the knowledge that no one got to understand Sukuna quite like you, that he let himself be vulnerable around you and taught you about yourself, your kindness, and your mind like no one else could. It brought out a part of you that you’re proud to continue to nurture, even if that means the scars remain.

Still, even if only for a night, the hurt fades as you laugh along with what might be the strangest group of four you could make up out of your friends.

Maybe locking yourself up and watching sad movies had been a bigger mistake than you thought.

–

With wide, bright eyes, you make your way into the office on the first Tuesday of March. The office may as well be on fire given the state you find it in, paperwork scattered across every desk in sight and half of the staff seem to be running around like chickens with their heads cut off.

“What…?”

Before you have time to question the chaos of the office, the editor who you’d been shadowing stops at the sight of you. Her blonde hair nearly reaches her waist, her tall stance hunched and tired as though she’s been spread thin all day.

“Yuki, what’s going on?” You query, your brow pulled together.

“Ayana disappeared,” she explains with a sigh. You tilt your head, certain the company’s graphic designer is just sick, or- “And no one’s been able to get a hold of her for over a week now. We’ve got seven novels without covers all from one company, and if we can’t provide soon, we’ll lose our biggest client-”

“Why don’t we just outsource?” You shake your head, interrupting her rambling.

“Girl, I wish. I’ve suggested it like- seven times. I guess we ‘can’t’.” Her use of finger quotations around the word ‘can’t’ has you pursing your lips in confusion.

“And why ‘can’t’ we, exactly?” You mirror her actions.

She groans dramatically, throwing her head back. “It’s a company policy or some shit, I don’t know.”

“I mean, we have a design course at the university, I’m sure I could-”

“Oh my god, please. We need someone hired like yesterday, and the boss is seriously dragging her feet. If you could get someone here who can start right away, you’d be a life-saver.” She grabs you by the shoulders, giving you a small shake to get her point across.

“Yeah, I can try to pull some strings tomorrow,” you grin.

As it would turn out, two of the seven novels were ones you shadowed Yuki on, and one was the first novel you worked on by yourself. Which is to say, you would have nothing to show for your entire internship if things fell through with this client.

So basically, you had until Thursday to get someone in, because the client was getting impatient of the excuses being thrown their way.

You’d asked your friends at lunch if they knew anyone and even skipped class on Wednesday afternoon in an effort to talk to as many of the professors that even slightly suited the industry as you could, building up a small page of potential student and graduate contacts.

Three didn’t reply. Four were too busy to take on seven covers in the span of a couple of days. Nine couldn’t start for two weeks and even then, they would need to weigh their options.

There’s one other person who occurs to you, but that can’t be your last option, right?

Sitting and staring at your laptop, you dial Shoko’s number.

“Don’t kill me,” you start when she picks up, tapping your fingers on your desk as you put your phone on speaker.

“Should I want to?” She asks, and you can practically hear her raised brow.

“So, you know how our graphic designer left?”

“Yeah, the girl who cooks bacon in the break room,” her voice comes across the line filled with static, but you’re still able to make out her words.

“Yeah, that’s the one. So, I guess she disappeared last week and we’re behind on seven covers.”

“Right, so outsource.”

Ugh. “That’s what I said! I guess it’s against policy, we have a strict rule of everything being done locally.”

“Okayyyy… So outsource locally.”

You groan, leaning over your desk. The seconds tick by in silence before you finally raise your head again. “Did you happen to meet any artists in the last five hours?”

“Can’t say I did,” she laughs. “Sorry.”

The line goes silent as you contemplate telling her your thoughts, but she beats you to it.

“So, why am I killing you anyway?”

“I know an artist,” you tell her.

“Well shit, why didn’t you just start with them?”

You tap your fingers across your desk rhythmically. So loudly in fact, that you’re almost certain that she can hear the motion.

Her tone drops to a more serious one and you can see the warnings written across her face, even over the phone.

“No. Fuck, no. You just got over him.”

“Do I have a choice, Sho?” You lean on your elbow, continuing to tap mindlessly on the desk.

“What do you-? Yes, he doesn’t deserve the chance.”

“Maybe not, but what else am I supposed to do?”

“Shit, I don’t know, find someone on Fiverr?” She suggests.

You groan into the sleeve of your hoodie. “I tried.”

“You’re cooked if you already tried that,” she sighs. “Can’t you just let these covers fall through? What’s the big deal?”

You explain the situation, to which Shoko only manages a meager ‘oh’, and is forced to listen to you groaning over her phone’s speaker again.

“So, would you kill me?”

“No, but Kento will.”

“I knowww,” you grumble, but what choice are you left with? Unless someone else pulled through, you’re out of options. Silence hangs between you, although you know Shoko’s still there when you hear shuffling. “I don’t believe in fate, but if I did,” you hold up your pinky as though your best friend can see it. “Sukuna and I are tied together.”

“I don’t like that analogy,” she chuckles dryly. “It’s more like he’s a fly you can’t get to go away.”

“That’s just mean,” you grumble.

She chuckles dryly. “Don’t defend him.”

“It wasn’t just his fault this time,” you remind her.

“Maybe. But he had enough chances. This is just for work, yeah?” Though she’s inquiring, there’s an air of assurance to her words, as though she’s trying to get you to agree. Because that’s exactly what she’s doing.

“Just for work.”

Well, fuck.

Now you need to contact Sukuna.

–

There’s no emotion on Sukuna’s face as he watches his youngest brother take the most neon purple washable (hopefully) marker and color in between the tattoos he’s drawn on in black ink. He can’t blame the kid for getting bored, it’s too cold to play basketball and Sukuna’s hardly had time to draw something for him to color.

At least, that’s what he tells himself. It’s easier to admit than to say he’s spent too much time wallowing in self-pity to draw for his little brothers. He could only work a handful of times throughout the week, nearly full-time at the auto shop during school hours for his brothers, then evenings would be spent going over homework and projects, cooking, cleaning, entertaining the kids, getting them ready for bed… it’s an exhausting list, the more he thinks about it.

To think, you did it all without ever expecting anything in return. Just friendship. Those last words you spoke to him and the look on your teary-eyed face burned into the recesses of his brain.

It’s been so long since he’s seen you, and yet his days are so full that it feels like just yesterday.

Or maybe that’s just because the days seem to blend together for him. He can’t even recall the last time he was able to do something for himself. Art had taken a backburner, his diet bent to the will of two picky young kids, and his showers were scarcely as long as a commercial to cut back on water.

He supposes he’s been keeping up with his workout routine, but at this point he’s pretty sure if he stops, he’ll end up laid out on the bathroom floor again. His nightly workouts are the only thing keeping his sleep schedule in any semblance of working order, quite literally burning every last ounce of energy until he passes out.

You and Toji have gone radio-silent. Which makes sense, he didn’t expect anything less. Atsuya was never overly chatty with Sukuna one way or another and Uraume checks in and offers to watch his brothers, but like the grumpy brute that he is, he can’t bring himself to accept. He’s not sure whether that’s out of guilt or fear. Guilt towards how he treated you, and a fear that he may do the same to Uraume.

“Kunaaaaaa! You never listen!”

He blinks at the grating sound of Yuji practically in his ear, swatting at the boy with a grimace.

“Fuckin’ stop, I heard you,” he snarls, holding a hand over his ear at the close proximity of Yuji’s shrill cry.

“If you heard me, then what’d I say?”

Oh. So Sukuna didn’t hear him.

He lets out a long sigh. “Sorry, brat. What’d you say?”

“I said I’m not sleeping tonight.”

Sukuna’s brow raises. “What?”

“Becauuuuse the new Mario game comes out tonight!! At midnight!” Yuji happily proclaims.

Sukuna shoots a glance at Choso, who’s busy at the kitchen table typing away on Sukuna’s laptop for one of his classes. “So?” He asks as he turns his attention back to the endless supply of energy that is his brother. It’s not like they have any current gaming systems.

“So I need to stay up so I can watch it on YouTube!”

“Absolutely not,” Sukuna shuts down the idea, much to Yuji’s dismay as he whines, tugging on the burly man’s hoodie sleeve.

“PLEAAAAAAAASE!” Yuji pleads, tugging against Sukuna with as much of his body weight as the five-year-old can put into it. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

“Enough!” Sukuna barks, shutting down Yuji’s pleas. “As soon as your brother finishes his homework, you’re both goin’ to bed.”

Yuji shoots Choso a pointed look, but the middle brother’s hardly paying attention, the act of working on his homework little more than mechanical. Sukuna knows that, because he thinks he fucked up.

Again.

His first meeting with the top lawyer Hiromi had recommended had taken place at the apartment the other day, at Sukuna’s request, for ease of looking after his brothers. Luckily she was sympathetic to his situation and agreed, discussing what would take place at the proceedings and what she needed from Sukuna aside from the documents he’d already provided. Sukuna had left out the portion where he’d gotten advice from a student, of course.

With the discussion, however, came the realization that Choso was hardly a room away during the discussion of the possibility of social workers conducting a house study. It wouldn’t be Sukuna’s first time having social workers in the house, but that’s exactly why he fears the way Choso’s personality has dulled again.

He’d gotten better. Sukuna isn’t sure exactly what you did, but life had flowed back into his brother’s world. It was gradual, just little moments of genuine happiness at first, before he caught Choso smiling at a bird on the walk home from school. Asking for help on assignments. Defending Yuji when Sukuna got a little too frustrated with the five-year-old.

And it all came crumbling down at once. He knew it had to do with the meeting with the lawyer, but it didn’t make it any easier. Yuji had noticed it too. Even now, as he stares at Choso, hoping the older Itadori will defend him, Choso hasn’t bothered to look up from his work. Whether he’s completely oblivious to his brothers watching him or simply can’t be bothered to care, Sukuna isn’t certain.

Most of the legal consultation would have flown over any kid’s head, even Choso’s, but social workers? That was a term Choso knew all too well. And if he had to pinpoint something that might have shut the dark-haired kid down, he figured that had to be it.

It didn’t matter how many years passed, Sukuna will never forget the way he failed Choso the day of their house study following the passing of their father. He relives it in his nightmares from time to time, serving as a constant reminder of his fuck-ups.

Sunlight filters through the frosted window behind the shower as Sukuna pushes his hair back from his forehead, slick with sweat. He holds himself up over the sink, washing his mouth out as best as he can and brushing his teeth.

The dark circles under his eyes may as well be shadows given how much weight he’d lost. He can’t keep food down long enough to gain any of his muscle mass back, he’d become little more than a shadow of his former self.

Balling his hand into a fist, he grits his teeth and pushes to his full height, staring at someone he doesn’t recognize. The man, barely more than a child himself, looking back at him wasn’t suited to look after kids. Yet he’d been forced to put in a petition to take guardianship when his father’s will had listed no one to look after the kids and their mother was absent.

Sukuna wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, swallowing hard and sucking in a deep breath. Yuji will wake up any second now. Choso will want breakfast. Sukuna will be forced to bend over backwards to satiate their needs, to take care of the two people who look the most like his late father and absent step-mother.

It’s a haunting feeling, to see those that are gone in people you care about.

It’s a feeling that Sukuna can’t escape, that grips him by the throat as he struggles to differentiate the people he loves from the people he’s lost.

Does that make him a sorry excuse for a guardian? Maybe. Does it make him a sorry excuse for a brother? Definitely.

He coughs into his elbow, wiping perspiration from his neck and washing his hands once more. It seems no matter how many times he washes them, he can’t escape the feeling that he’s a shitty brother. A shitty brother who can hardly bear to look at his brothers, as though everything that’s happened is their fault.

He resents himself for it, every minute of every day.

He’d give anything to bring their father back. He’d know what to do. He always did.

Sukuna lets out a breath as he pushes through the washroom door after throwing a plain black V-neck on over his head and a pair of beige joggers. He makes his way to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge door and staring blankly at the ingredients sitting within. Leftovers from- what? A week ago? Yogurt, eggs, a half-empty can of tuna that’s been there long enough that his nose is wrinkling just from opening the fridge and-

A bang from the other side of the house- a house filled with memories turned dreary, too big for the three current inhabitants- catches Sukuna’s attention. He shuts the fridge door with more force than intended, scowling as he languidly trudges across his father’s house. Pushing open the door, the Sukuna finds Choso in the kid’s bedroom, with the vacuum in pieces across the floor, the main compartment imploded in a cloud of dust that now litters the carpet.

It takes every ounce of self-control that Sukuna has left to keep his voice (mostly) even as he mutters “what’re you doing?”

Choso guiltily shuffles in place, avoiding Sukuna’s sharp crimson stare. “Trying to help,” he whispers, fiddling with his fingers.

Sukuna lets out a huff. “Well, don’t,” he grumbles, getting ready to turn away.

“But- the social workers-”

The- oh. Oh, fuck.

Clearing his throat, Sukuna turns back towards his little brother, a pained expression on his exhausted face. “Is that today?”

Choso nods.

Fuck. FUCK.

There’s no food in the house. The kitchen is a downright mess, Yuji could wake up in a mess of sobs that Sukuna hardly knows how to handle at any moment, the living room is piled high with laundry that Sukuna had the energy to wash but not fold, and now… Sukuna rubs his hands harshly down his face, peeking through his fingers only to stare at the dust.

What time are they coming? Did he even write it down? He can’t remember.

“When, uh-”

“Ten.”

Sukuna pulls his phone from his pocket. Nine.

Fuck.

“I cleaned Yuji and I’s rooms and shut dad’s-” Choso begins, getting down on his knees to start brushing up the dust from the collapsed vacuum as best as he can with his hands.

“Stop- stop,” Sukuna instructs, pulling his brother away from the pile of dust. “Go wash up.” He instructs, watching the little boy guiltily nod. How old is he? Nine? Sukuna doesn’t remember, but as the little boy jogs out of his room to wash his hands leaving Sukuna alone, another wave of nausea washes over him.

He could wretch at the mere mention of their father. He coughs, his throat raw and dry as he stares at the pile of dust.

His nine year old brother cleaned the damn house because Sukuna couldn’t. Sukuna couldn’t get his shit together enough to get the house in order for the social worker.

The pace that his chest rises and falls grows irregular as he stares at the dust, wasting time as the minutes pass by. He needs to do the laundry, the dishes-

He looks down at himself, at the V-neck that he’s pretty sure Yuji spit on. He doesn’t remember anymore. Did he wash this shirt? Was that another one that Yuji spit on? What’s the stain on his shoulder?

Stumbling out of Choso’s room, Sukuna heads to the kitchen in a manic blur, staring at all the dishes piling up in the sink and across the counter and table.

Maybe the laundry will be less daunting.

He makes his way to the living room, only to find that Choso has taken care of that too, everything is folded about as well as a nine-year-old can manage, an uneven stack of shirts sitting alongside Sukuna’s pants, though it looks like Choso and Yuji’s clothes have already been put away.

His chest tightens, like an anvil pressing its full weight on his ribs. He can’t breathe.

The door clicks as his brother leaves the washroom and Sukuna waits with shaking hands for his brother to leave. He can’t see Sukuna like this. Sukuna’s supposed to take care of him, why is it Choso that’s taking care of him? The kid’s hardly spoken a word to him since Jin’s passing, and yet he’s keeping track of the house study and making cereal for himself just so that Sukuna doesn’t have to.

A nine-year-old shouldn’t have to step up. Especially not one who's just lost both parents. Hell, he may as well have lost his brother too, because Sukuna’s not sure he’s still the same man. One could hardly call Sukuna’s routine as of late ‘living’. Sukuna’s heard the kid crying long into the night, sobs muffled by his pillow and two walls, but he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

They cried together so long in the hospital that the shock of Choso’s mom not replying hit Sukuna in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

Sukuna’s hand trembles as he tries to shut the washroom door without alerting Choso. He collapses in front of the toilet, keeling over the bowl weakly. His hair sticks to his forehead again as he leans over, but there’s nothing left in his stomach to throw up.

He heaves and coughs, groaning as his throat stings with the effort. Leaning back, he stares at the ceiling. What had he become? How had things gotten to this point?

Sukuna had goals, he had hopes and dreams, and now they’d been crushed in favor of keeping two kids alive.

Could he even hope to make them happy when he was struggling just to keep them fed?

Hell, he’s struggling to keep himself fed lately.

He was nearly out of money already after the cost of lawyers and the funeral, he needed to get a job. But how was he meant to do that if he couldn’t even put laundry away?

He pulls his phone out, his thumb swiping through apps as if on auto-pilot, clicking on contacts, swiping through letters until he reaches ‘J’. His thumb clicks on instinct and he holds it up to his ear. It rings once, twice, three times. On the fifth, he reaches an answering machine.

“Hey, it’s Jin! Thanks for giving me a call, I’m not around right now but please leave a message!” Followed shortly by a mechanical “this user’s mailbox is full”. The call cuts out and the salmon-haired man pauses for a moment before he leans forward on his knees.

How is he meant to do this? Was this really what his dad wanted for him? No, he can’t think like that. Sukuna grits his teeth, his cheeks hot with tears. He’d left so many messages that will forever go unanswered. With one hand gripping his phone with white knuckles and another buried in his sweat-laden hair, he sits there for longer than he can afford, waiting for his body to relax enough to catch his breath. That time never comes, his chest remaining tight, but he can’t afford to sit here any longer.

Nine thirty.

He pushes himself up off the floor, flipping his head back to keep his hair from his face, and pushes out of the washroom once more this morning. The door slams on its hinges as he rushes into the kitchen, shaky hands moving clean dishes from the dishwasher and into cabinets. Every movement is on instinct, nothing done deliberately as he struggles to keep himself in the right mind for a house study.

How the fuck is he supposed to pass?

“Kuna? I- I found a broom, I’m gonna-”

Choso jumps as Sukuna’s thrown off by his brother’s voice, a plate colliding with the counter and shattering across the ground.

“Fuck!” Sukuna barks, staring down at his hands. A shard of ceramic is embedded into the heel of his left palm, blood seeping out around it. He stares down at the mess at his feet, gripping the counter with his right hand to steady himself.

“Kuna? Are you okay?” Choso asks weakly, his voice hoarse from a lack of use.

“Yeah, uh-” Sukuna can’t bear to look at his brother, his gaze glued to the blood that pools in his palm. “The broom. Can you bring it here? Just- just stay away from the glass.”

The sound of light footsteps gradually fades and Sukuna carefully maneuvers around the mess to the sink, shakily dislodging the ceramic from his skin. Flipping the sink on, he watches the crimson pour into the sink as he runs his hand under warm water, reaching blindly to the drawer that should have bandages. He pulls them out, fumbling with the packaging and settling the bandage over his palm.

Carefully moving away from the glass, he slips on shoes and waits for his brother to drag the broom over. Choso watches as he sweeps up the remaining pieces of the plate, before the boy busies himself with moving the piles of clothing on the couch into Sukuna’s room now that he knows his brother is awake. Spotting movement out of the corner of his eye, Sukuna’s head whips around to Choso.

“Stop. I can handle it.”

Choso pauses, examining Sukuna silently. “I can help-”

“No!” Sukuna growls, dumping the dust pan of shards into the trash before flipping to face Choso. “I can handle it. It’s- It’s not your job.”

Choso’s lips purse as he evaluates Sukuna’s words. He doesn’t believe his older brother.

Is that really the world Sukuna lives in? That his younger brother feels the need to take care of him?

Is he that much of a mess?

Sukuna wipes perspiration from his forehead with the back of his arm, turning back to the dishes and moving quickly to feign being alright.

He just has to make it through the day.

Yuji’s cries blare very suddenly through the house, piercing Sukuna’s ears and he grits his teeth.

He just has to make it through the day.

Setting down a clean plate, he’s in Yuji’s nursery before he can even process what’s happening. He stares blankly for a moment at the crying baby, sharply inhaling. The spitting image of his father. Reaching out, he pulls the child carefully into his arms.

“Stop crying, Yu,” Sukuna mutters softly, staring blankly at the crib and patting the child’s back. It’s his best attempt at comfort in his current state. “Please stop crying,” he begs, feeling his eyes burn himself.

He probably needs food, right? Sukuna can manage that, he thinks. There’s still eggs. He knows Yuji likes scrambled eggs.

The child continues to cry even as Sukuna bounces a little more dramatically as he walks to try to soothe the child. He swallows down any semblance of uncertainty as he makes his way back to the kitchen.

Even as Yuji cries, Sukuna’s gait stutters at the entry to the kitchen, where Choso has snuck back in to continue cleaning the dishes. The oldest brother’s jaw trembles as he inhales slowly, his mind blank. Has Choso been taking care of chores this often? Has he not even noticed?

His eyes are hot and he averts his gaze. He doesn’t have time to fight with Choso.

Setting the baby in his high-chair, Sukuna moves quickly to open the fridge and pull out the eggs.

Egg.

There’s one egg.

He shoots a glance at Choso, who’s shutting the dishwasher beside him.

Choso can have something else, right?

Yeah, cereal. Right.

He pulls out milk alongside the egg, his jaw going slack as he reads the date. It expired today. Surely it’s still alright, right?

Unscrewing the cap, he holds the carton up to his nose and it wrinkles, his lip curling in disgust.

Okay. That’s fine.

He dumps out the rest in the sink.

Yogurt. He can have… yogurt.

What a sorry excuse for a meal. What a sorry excuse for a guardian.

Sukuna stands silently for a moment, contemplating his decisions. Maybe the kids would be better off without him. Maybe they would be better off in the foster system with a pair of adults who can take care of them. Someone equipped for this.

But what if they got separated? What if-

“I can have, um, chicken fingers,” Choso mumbles as he comes up behind Sukuna.

Sukuna swipes his tongue over his lips, opening the freezer. It’s more full than the fridge. That’s an alright option. He pulls them out, beginning to prepare food for both kids as Yuji continues bawling in his chair.

“Give your brother some yogurt while I cook,” Sukuna mumbles, passing the container off to Choso, who nods.

To Sukuna’s relief, the child sniffles and stops crying as Choso quietly spoons yogurt straight from the container. Facing the frying pan with the egg in it, Sukuna shuts his eyes in relief at the silence, a semblance of control returning, even if only for a second.

He casts a glance at the stove. Nine fifty seven. Three minutes.

Finishing up cooking and slipping the chicken into the oven, he sets a small plate on the table, sitting alongside Yuji and blowing on the scrambled eggs to ensure they aren’t too hot. He spoons it into the bumbling child’s mouth, only to sigh when there’s a knock at the door.

Sukuna is so grossly underprepared for this house study. He knows it’s standard procedure in cases like this, just court-ordered motions, but in truth, Sukuna doesn’t think he deserves to be a guardian to either of the kids.

The question of whether he wants this has been rattling around in his head so frequently that he feels a constant guilt. Because he doesn’t. He loves his brothers, of course he does, there’s no question in that. But he doesn’t want this. He’s never wanted this.

Standing in front of the door, he sucks in a breath and puts on his best attempt at a mild expression, leaving a hand over his shoulder to cover the stain that he’s fairly sure is spit from Yuji. Or worse. He doesn’t want to think about it.

A man with short salt-and-pepper graying hair stands outside the door in a nice, long black coat. He wears a pair of deep blue slacks and a white button-up beneath. His pale blue eyes slide along the length of Sukuna’s jaw, silently evaluating his face tattoos.

Is that strike one before he’s even said hello?

Still, the man extends his hand with a carefully mediated smile. He introduces himself as the social worker for Sukuna’s case, goes over the purpose of the visit, and requests access to the home for his evaluation. Sukuna swallows hard and moves aside, letting the man in.

He’s quick to run his evaluating gaze around the front entryway. It’s a bit of a mess, but surely that’s not a big deal.

Surely.

Sukuna clears his throat, mumbling out a “come on in,” as he makes his way into the house. It’s clean enough, there’s no hazards that could put the kids in danger, and Yuji is eating as Choso scoops eggs into his mouth. The social worker evaluates the scene and nods, clearly satisfied that there’s food on the table.

“Mind if I take a look around?”

Sukuna nods in acceptance before trailing a short distance behind the man. He does a walkthrough of the kitchen first, his watchful gaze darting over the counter, to the sink that Sukuna notes he should have cleaned up the scraps sitting in it, and eventually grabs the fridge door handle.

Sukuna winces as he pulls it open and frowns.

“We’re going shopping, uh, today,” Sukuna offers, clearing his throat. “The kids are picky,” he gruffs, scratching at the back of his neck.

That’s definitely a strike, regardless.

Shutting the door, he proceeds to look through the pantry before evaluating the living room, which has gone relatively untouched since Jin got sick, leaving it under a layer of dust, but otherwise clean. The social worker doesn’t appear to think much of it, moving on as he points towards the other side of the house.

“Can you show me to the kids’ rooms?”

Sukuna nods, blazing past his dad’s old room as fast as he can without coming across as suspicious, though he simply can’t bear to look at it. The pink-haired man shuffles on his feet as he waves his hand at the nursery and Choso’s room. He takes a couple of minutes in the nursery, which is likely the cleanest room in the house, re-emerging to take a look at Choso’s room.

“How old is the older of the two?”

Sukuna swallows. Is this a test? “Nine.” He’s nine, right?

The man hums, looking around at the Pokemon plushies and the giant Avocado Squishmallow on the bed. His eyes land on the remnants of the dust pile from the exploded vacuum, and Sukuna stumbles over his words to explain the stain.

“My vacuum broke, just before you got here,” Sukuna explains, clearing his throat. “Uh, it’s on the grocery list.”

The man hums. Is that another strike? How many is Sukuna allowed?

Should he even be hoping he passes this? Is this what’s best for his brothers?

Sukuna lets out a shaky breath, idly scratching at his chest as though the weight crushing his lungs might go away if he does.

The social worker continues on his way, peeking at a closet with cleaning supplies, evaluating the fairly empty backyard, and casting a glance into the washroom. Once he’s done evaluating those, he makes his way back to the open-concept living and dining room.

“Do you mind if I ask a few questions?”

Sukuna nods, taking a seat on the couch in tandem with the worker. Sukuna sits as straight as he can manage, his bouncing leg going unnoticed by the tattooed man. The social worker casts his leg a glance, but says nothing as he pulls out a notepad.

“What’s your relationship to the children?”

“Brother. Uh- step-brother.”

He jots down Sukuna’s reply. “What’s your financial situation like?”

“I need to get a job, but we’re living off the estate of my father.”

The social worker nods, prattling off more questions about the needs of the kids, medical care, questions about Sukuna himself and his background, as well as his experience with kids. Sukuna’s fairly certain he barely skirts by with his responses, but his mind goes blank with the next question.

“How will you handle the emotional needs of your brothers?”

Sukuna stays silent for a moment too long, before choking out “... emotional needs?”

The social worker sits forward. “You’ll be with them throughout all, if not most, of their developmental stages. You need to ensure they’re cared for emotionally and feel secure. Emotional stability is extremely important for young children,” he explains.

Sukuna swallows hard.

Is this already a strike? What the fuck is he supposed to say? He’s too depressed, too manic himself, to even begin thinking about the emotional needs of his brothers and how he, of all people, is supposed to provide that. As it stands, he’s pretty sure he’s already neglected Choso’s emotional needs.

“I, uh-” Sukuna stammers, casting a glance at the bandage on his palm. That was- what-? Thirty minutes ago? Why does it feel like ages ago? Why can’t he think straight?

Sukuna’s jaw trembles and he swallows. Fuck, he can’t breathe again. Bile gathers at the back of his throat. He wants to vomit.

“Kuna loves us,” Choso chimes in suddenly, the little boy’s quiet voice interrupting Sukuna’s spiralling thoughts. “He’s the best big brother, he makes me happy.”

Sukuna damn near chokes. His eyes are hot with tears and he rubs furiously at them to prevent any from falling down his cheeks as Choso speaks up, practically saving his ass. Sukuna’s throat tightens as he leans forward on his knees. Does Choso really feel that way? Or is he feigning happiness for the social worker?

Sukuna chances a glance backwards to his little brother, examining the look on his face. Choso’s eyes are sunken, he’s tired. He’s become a shadow of his former self, much like Sukuna, and the oldest knows that he’s contributed to the anguish Choso feels. Yet still, the little boy has leapt to his defense. He’s kept the house in order, fed himself, and helped to take care of Yuji.

Now he’s taking care of Sukuna, too. Sukuna isn’t sure whether he’s more pissed that his nine-year-old brother is looking after him, lost because a child is handling things better than him, or shocked that Choso’s coming to his defense at all given how shitty Sukuna’s been. He’s failed Choso at every turn, yet the boy never seems to hold it against him and that kills Sukuna.

Regardless, the social worker seems pleased with that response. “Seems you already have things in order. Do you mind if I have a chat with your little brother?”

“Go for it,” Sukuna barely manages to whisper, lost in his thoughts.

“Great. We’ll review the documents after.”

How long Sukuna sits there staring at Choso as he types up his homework, he couldn’t tell you. The only reason he’s snapped back to the present and pulled from his thoughts is from the hoarse “I’m done,” that Choso manages as he hands Sukuna his laptop to take a look at his writing.

Sukuna stares blankly at Choso, holding his laptop in one hand. Did Sukuna ever deserve to look after these kids?

Is Sukuna at that stage again? Has he gotten as bad as he was when he first started looking after his brothers?

It’s been so long since the ordeal with the social workers, since Sukuna spent most of his time laid out on the bathroom floor or curled up in bed with freezing hands and a burning throat, and yet… Has he changed at all? Is he any better?

You may have reassured him that the kids love him, that he’s a good guardian, and yet… he’s still not so sure. Not after he failed you, Yuji and Choso.

God. Poor Choso.

Whatever piece of Sukuna died back when Jin passed away, Sukuna could feel it beating and thriving once more with your arrival in his life. Now, though, it’s gone again. Its departure went hand-in-hand with that same light in Choso’s life.

And in the aftermath of his own self-destruction, he’d pushed away Toji too. Again. He’d never really let him back in, but as Sukuna sits frozen in place staring at his brother, he sees the sum of his mistakes staring back at him. A child who Sukuna hasn’t been able to provide for in terms of emotional needs.

You had. You were so, so good with Choso and Yuji. You were an angel.

Sukuna can’t help but wonder what the fuck is wrong with him as he realizes that in his frozen state, his brothers are both staring at him with worried brows. Great, now the five-year-old is concerned for him too.

Snapping out of it, Sukuna clears his throat and pulls the laptop onto his legs, reading through Choso’s evaluation on some iceberg in the Antarctic ocean. He makes a couple of grammatical fixes, before handing it back. Not a single word sticks with Sukuna, but he nods. “Looks good,” he tells Choso, running a hand through his pink locks.

Choso takes the laptop back and sends the document to his teacher before handing it back to Sukuna. The oldest brother idly stands by as the two kids get ready for bed, and it’s not until they’re tucked in that Sukuna’s mind really starts running again.

He stares down at his hands, running his thumb over the small scar he’d gotten on the day the social worker arrived. It’s barely noticeable, but it serves as a reminder of that day, of the smashed plate, and of Choso’s words. A nine-year old stepped up, because the adult couldn’t.

Sukuna can’t help the thought that for all the pride and ego he tries so hard to protect, for wanting to prove himself as a guardian, on his own, he’d failed on every account. At every turn, he’s only ever met with endless failures.

Failures that he dragged you into.

It’s not that he didn’t expect your departure to hurt- after all, he’s failed you once already- but it only seemed to jumble his mind further. At least with Choso and Yuji, he understands his frustrations. At least he knows what he’s feeling and has an outlet in his art and workouts to work through those emotions.

You, though- you’re a variable he hadn’t anticipated. Your loss weighs heavy on him, on his heart, and he doesn’t know how to unpack that. Losing you had been the final nail in the coffin that solidified two things with Sukuna.

The first- wherever it is (was) that you stand with Sukuna, that feeling can’t be replaced. Not by workouts, or distractions, or anything else he can muster to stop his mind from spiralling. You hold a place within him, within his heart, that he can see now and if he weren’t so stupid, he might not have lost you. You hurt him, sure, but he doesn’t think he cares anymore. He doesn’t even mind that he doesn’t understand what exactly the place that you hold within him is, he just knows that you’re there.

And the second- Sukuna is a coward. He’s a downright coward and a dumbass who can’t bring himself to fix his mistakes because he can’t bear the idea of dragging you back into his problems.

Sukuna was wrong.

The worst part is that his brothers ask constantly about you. Hell, he’s had to email a fake address just to placate them, and formulate your answers on his own. The amount of times he’s read through your emails to replicate your tone only serves as further harm to his mental state, weighing heavy on his heart. Both his lies towards his brothers and his mistakes with you cut at his emotions.

He was foolish to think he could manage everything on his own. Foolish to think he could manage without Uraume’s help, without the kind old woman across the hall’s help, but especially without your help.

You didn’t just watch the kids. You made them better people, you taught them valuable lessons, you were there for them emotionally. You were there for him, and he took you for granted.

You were the first person since Jin passed that made Sukuna feel human again.

Balling his hands into fists, he huffs and picks up a weight. He’ll work out until he passes out, airpods in if it only means that he can keep his mind off the things that make his chest tighten. It’s his only release from the stress of each day.

He’s about an hour into working out when his phone lights up with a call. A call that he has half a mind to think he’s hallucinating with the state of mind he’s found himself in.

His hand hovers over the green button as though it might disappear when he blinks, because there’s no world where you give him another chance. Hell, he doesn’t deserve it and he’s willing to admit that now.

Pressing down on the button, he remains silent for a moment before pulling the phone up to his ear. His breath is coming in puffs and pants due to his workout as he barely manages to squeeze out your name.

“Hey, Sukuna.”

Sukuna. He thinks he hates when you call him that. He’s grown so used to your nickname for him that he prefers it.

“Hey,” he grunts, how brow furrowed. His eyes trail the length of his room until they land on his drawing table. Strewn across the top are his sketches of you, before he managed to draw the one he was happy with, the one he gave you. He’s not even sure what spurred him to do that for you, it just felt right.

It feels like years have passed since then.

“So, um, listen,” you start, an air of nervousness to your voice, still so saccharine sweet. “One of my colleagues disappeared last week, and she left behind this whole pile of work-” you hesitate again, leaving Sukuna only to listen with his brows knit together. “- sorry, uh- she was our graphic designer and now we’re behind and we’re gonna lose a client if we don’t find a replacement like yesterday,” you groan, and he can practically hear the way you’re chewing on your lip. “I thought that, you know, with your art and all, that maybe you might…” You trail off, awaiting Sukuna’s response.

Sukuna’s brain takes a moment to catch up, still stuck on the fact that you’re reaching out.

“Sukuna?”

“Yeah, sorry,” he gruffs, sighing as he tries to make sense of what’s going on. “Why’re you offering this to me?” It doesn’t make sense, why would you come back after everything?

“Every book I’ve edited so far is missing a cover. If we don’t get a graphic designer to submit covers before Friday, we lose the client, and all of my work,” you explain.

Right. That… makes sense. You have no other reason to reach out to him and he owes you a favor. Bounds of them, actually.

“Sure.”

And he thinks he can live with being just a favor, if it’s to you. It brings him comfort to know that you’re not entirely out of reach anymore. He thinks he even feels his chest loosen just a bit.

“Really? Oh my god thank you, you have no idea how much of a huge favor this is, um-” you begin prattling off details of the job, but Sukuna’s hardly listening, too caught up on the sound of your voice. When did he get like this? Has he always been like this with you?

When did you carve yourself into his heart quite like this? A place meant only for you, one that no one else could replace. He can’t pinpoint a moment, but he hadn’t realized just how much he needed you. You’re his best friend. That has to be why he longs for your presence so badly, it’s the only explanation that makes sense.

Can he fix things?

“Can you meet up tomorrow morning?” You ask.

Sukuna grunts out a yes, giving you a time and place. The cafe he originally apologized at.

“And Sukuna?”

He pauses, waiting for you to continue.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

Sukuna’s throat tightens again. “Right,” he mutters. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See you.”

He stares at his screen for a long moment, swallowing hard. You don’t forgive him. He doesn’t blame you, but he has to try to get you to. For the kids’ sake.

He swipes his tongue over his dry lips, shaking his head.

No, he selfishly needs you to forgive him for his own sake.

–

You fiddle nervously in the early morning with the sleeves of your coat. You’re twenty minutes early to your meeting with Sukuna to go over details, but it couldn’t be helped. You can’t say you slept well with the stress of knowing your entire past month’s work relies on the same person you’re so nervous to see.

The cafe is quiet this early in the morning, having just opened. Only one employee has arrived, a woman around your age with a blonde bob in a pale brown apron. Her movements are deliberate as she moves syrup bottles and whipped cream around the counter into optimal places to keep the shop in a good working order.

The ringing of a bell catches your attention, and you think your heart may actually stop for a moment at the sight of Sukuna.

He’s still tall as ever, in his coveralls for work with a heavy black coat over them, but he looks leagues different from when you last saw him. You’ve never seen dark circles quite like what Sukuna’s got going on, his chin is dotted in stubble, and his hair is longer than you’ve ever seen it. Based on the way he shakes his head to get stray strands out of his vision, you can conclude that it’s bothering him, too.

You don’t need to know that he only shook his head in an effort to get himself to focus as all the air left his body upon simply seeing you.

He stops in front of the table, casting a glance at the shop’s counter. “Need a coffee. Want somethin’?”

You nod gingerly. “Yeah, um, just tea, please.”

Whatever words you had planned for this meeting seem to disappear into thin air as you watch him trudge over to the counter. After a short wait, he returns with your tea and his black coffee.

“So,” you begin, deciding to skip pleasantries in favor of keeping any emotions out of this. Strictly business. “I don’t know what the pay is, but my boss said you would be compensated extra for the first seven covers, since we’ll need them on a rush basis. Um-” You pause, pulling out your phone to show him examples of the style of covers you’ll need. They’re children’s books, similar to things he read in school as a child along the lines of The Magic Treehouse or Goosebumps. Coincidentally, Sukuna’s pretty good at that, he has experience.

Sukuna hums, not daring to interrupt despite the words dying to spill from his lips.

“They expect you to be in-office five days a week, but the hours are flexible and if you’re sick, then you technically can work from home,” you explain, staring at the ceiling as you go over any other minute details you can think of. After prattling off a few more details that Sukuna can’t possibly imagine actually matter, you realize you’re rambling and pause. “Oh, bring a portfolio and um- it’s business casual. So, um-”

Again, you pause. Sukuna sees it in your eyes, you’re debating whether you want to tell him what to wear. You’re afraid he’ll think you’re telling him what to do.

“Wear something nice, got it.”

You blink once before nodding, satisfied. “I’m there from eleven-thirty to five, so just, um- come anytime? Ask for me at reception. My boss knows you’re coming.”

Sukuna nods. “Be there after I pick up the kids.” He’s pretty sure Uraume shouldn’t be busy tonight based on the few texts they’ve exchanged, so he’s sure he can manage to get someone to watch his brothers.

Silence hangs heavy in the air, thick with unspoken thoughts. It’s clear that a conversation needs to happen between you if you’re planning on working together, but Sukuna’s had no time to go over the things he wants to say, having convinced himself he’d never get another chance with you.

“Well, um-”

“I’m sorr-”

Sukuna bites his tongue as he accidentally speaks at the same time as you. Your hand is splayed on the table like you’re ready to push yourself up and leave already and Sukuna sighs.

“Sorry. I’ll see you later,” he resigns to let you leave, leaning back in his chair. He figures if he can catch you a little more willing to chat and not so nervous later in the day, he might stand a better chance of appealing to you.

You swallow hard as you stare at him, tapping a finger on the table. “This is just business, okay, Sukuna? Consider this my repayment for all the favors.”

Sukuna’s throat is dry as he swallows hard, nodding. “Right. Repayment.”

Before you can be the subject of any more of the strange stares he’s giving you, you push up to your feet and excuse yourself without looking back.

Your heart is practically beating out of your chest as you leave the coffee shop, clutching your backpack’s strap tightly.

What the hell was that!? Why did he spend the whole time staring at you like- like that? You’d expected huffs and sighs and thinly veiled anger. You’d expected him to be furious with you, still. You’d thought that you were in a better headspace, ready to face him and not think twice about it, but now you’ve got a one hundred horse power heart pounding like it’s about to race the damn Monaco Grand Prix and your thoughts are beyond jumbled.

You thought you were over him enough that this wouldn’t affect you, that you could be professional and strict. Instead, you’d stumbled and rambled through so many words that you could hardly make sense of what you managed to get out and what you didn’t.

Regardless of your nerves, the real question is Sukuna.

Why was he so… uncharacteristically not Sukuna? What happened to the boastful man who demanded attention with his mere presence? It was as though he’d been reduced to little more than a background character in his own life, simply going through the motions.

Not to mention that stare…?

A pang of concern floods through you as you recall what he said about how he would have handled his mental health without you. You know it’s not your place to worry anymore, as decided by Sukuna himself, but you’re too kind not to. Maybe it’s naive of you, you’re sure Kento and Shoko would tell you so. Still, it’s in your nature to worry about those you care about.

And one thing can be said for certain- you still care about Sukuna.

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❦ a/n ; in case you missed it, i did some art for the series and i'd love if you checked it out here <33 hiiiii sorry this took so long 😩 health problems were the bane of my existence last week and i just couldn't sit at the computer wrong enough to write. but!! thank you all so much for all the well wishes, i'm doing much better now and it's back to business as usual. that flashback scene HURTTTT ngl. they were all so young :(( they still are. i love this lil family sm tbh ANYWAY sorry i'm really yapping down here ig but i just wanted to say thank you thank you so much for all the love. i know i've been gone for a bit, but all the kind words and constant love and excitement for the series always has me kickin my feet n smiling <33 i seriously love you all and you guys keep me motivated to keep up my writing. lots of love and sorry for the angst 🥲

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

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writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

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twstedfreak · 3 months ago

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Not Even the Gods Can Keep Me from You — g. satoru

Ꮺ ⋮ pairing — odysseus!gojo satoru x fem!reader [greek au]

Ꮺ ⋮ synopsis — ❝ you were never supposed to fall for the prince of ithaca—especially not when war was on the horizon and the gods had already written tragedy in the stars. but you did. and any now, years have passed, the sea has swallowed his name, and you're left raising his son in a kingdom that’s slowly forgetting him. across cursed islands and shattered battlegrounds, gojo satoru is fighting his way back to you—but after all this time, will love be enough to bring him home? ❞

Ꮺ ⋮ c&w — 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—kinda ooc, kinda slowburn too, war, violence, death, grief, emotional manipulation, long chapters(?), separation, implied infidelity in the context of war and distance, strong language, betrayal, intense emotional conflict, Satoru’s inner turmoil and struggles with guilt, longing, and regret. tags might be added along the making of this Ꮺ ⋮ notes — it’s finally here… slowly but surely, i’m going to start uploading this series I’ve been working on for what feels like forever. seriously, the on-and-off relationship i’ve had with this story and the thought process behind it? Yeah, it’s been a ride. you wouldn’t believe half the stuff that went into it (just kidding, maybe you would). anyway, i’ll be posting the first chapter soon! just tweaking a few things here and there. upload times might be a bit inconsistent, as well as expect (ig)slow updates, idk it really does depend on my mood, so please bear with me while I get everything in order. thanks for sticking with me, y'all!! if you want to be added to the taglist, make sure to comment before i close it! i’m currently sorting out my tumblr theme (you know, the usual chaos of customization), but i’ll be back to posting soon. thanks so much for your patience and support, can’t wait to get this rolling! teaser post here! Ꮺ ⋮ status — new & ongoing

masterlist | drabble | headcanon ˚ 　 ⤹ 　 ❝ ©twstedfreak

TABLE OF CONTENT . . . . !!

PROLOGUE — BEFORE THE STORM The moment the thread was spun

01 | The Prince & the Spartan ⤷ A diplomatic visit. A shared glance. Their world begins to shift. 02 | The Lasting Days ⤷ He falls fast. She builds walls. But the heart doesn't always obey. 03 | The Archer in the Crowd ⤷ A masked suitor. A silent promise. A choice she never saw coming. 04 | Athena’s Watchful Eyes ⤷ Athena watches a child become a man—driven by love, tested by fate. 05 | The Ninth Dawn ⤷ Nine days. One child. One goodbye. Neither ready to let go.

MORE TO BE ADDED..... !!

Ꮺ ⋮ reminder — inspired by epic the musical by jorge rivera herrans. The banner and divider design is created by me. Please do not use, alter, or modify the template/design without permission. Do not steal, modify, tweak, translate, or plagiarize anything from my blog. Do not use / copy my template or theme. Respect my work, love u guys. 🚨

Ꮺ ⋮ TAGLIST OPEN comment to be added to the official list —

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— ©twstedfreak

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5sospenguinqueen · 1 year ago

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Bedtime Stories Pt 2 | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: Daniel made a silly little comment that lost him everything. Over a year later, he tries his hardest to fix his mistakes.

Warnings: Swearing. A tiny smidge of angst but mainly fluff. Redemption for Daniel.

Female reader with various faceclaims (pics found on pinterest). Takes place in 2023. For the purpose of this, Daniel has been with AlphaTauri the whole time.

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28•05•2023

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liked by redbullracing, YourUserName and others

danielricciardo monaco, always a delight. P11. so close to the points but racing through your streets feels like being on a podium

4,337 comments

landonorris and whose attention are we trying to grab with that sexy last pic 👀

→ danielricciardo only yours, mate

→ User1 don’t act like you’re not dying inside because y/n liked this

→ User2 relax, they never unfollowed each other 🙄

maxverstappen1 you’ll get them next time, mate

→ danielricciardo fancy giving me a tow?

→ maxverstappen1 never

→ User3 i love their friendship so much

User4 um, did anyone see that y/n liked and then unliked this post

→ User5 omg yes! sis was caught stalking and we love her for it

→ User6 i too would thirst over my ex if he looked like that

kellypiquet we were watching the whole time

liked by danielricciardo

→ User7 what a weird comment to make?

→ User8 who’s we, kelly?

→ User9 what does this mean?

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

04•06•2023

Tweet 1

User10 @ kikiki babe did you hit your head? is that why you were in the ER? they broke up

User11 @ kikiki maybe ask them to do a head scan whilst you're there 'cause ain't no way you saw here there

→ User12 literally. like why would she even be in spain right now?

Tweet 2

User11 i think we might have to apologise to @ kikiki

→ User10 can we really trust the wag page though? They did report that Lando was having a secret love child the other week..?

Tweet 3

User13 asking the real questions because she's not even hinted that she’s been writing so it’s not like she’s on a book tour or anything?

→ User14 some people are saying she could be on vacation but please, why would mother choose a holiday destination during a time that she knows is a GP?

User15 guys, guys, I think our sacrifice circle worked

→ User16 please, please, 🕯️🕯️

User 17 how poetic would it be though if they got back together during the spanish GP when they broke up at the spanish GP a year ago

User18 shouldn’t you know these answers, and that she was in spain, if you're her so-called updates page

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

22•08•2023

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and others

YourUserName some big news approaching

6,349 comments

kellypiquet i can’t wait, my beautiful girl

→ YourUserName thank you for being my #1 support

→ kellypiquet thank you for letting me help plan

→ User1 what does this mean?

→ User2 miss piquet stop being so cryptic on socials

maxverstappen1 i’m very excited

→ YourUserName did kelly force you to write that because i could feel the excitement oozing through the screen

→ maxverstappen1 i wanted to say something worse

→ YourUserName i hope she leaves you

→ kellypiquet behave, you two!

→ User3 i live for max and y/n terrorising each other, even without danny ric being around to encourage it

bloomsburypublishing we look forward to the end result

User4 i’m sorry but is this a soft launch?

User5 who is that in the last slide, miss y/n?

→ User6 the inspiration behind a new romance we hope

User7 don’t be shy. tag him

User8 soft launches have recently become my least favourite thing

charles_leclerc are you perhaps writing my next plane read

→ YourUserName depends how long the flight is

→ User9 confirmation of a new book ya’ll!! everyone say thank you charles

User10 i like to be edged by her books, not by her hiding her man

User11 don't try and distract us with news of a new book, we wanna know who the feet belong to!

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

01•09•2023

danielricciardo just posted

liked by maxverstapen1, yukitsunoda0511 and others

danielricciardo ciao a tutti. lovely sightseeing in beautiful Italy

6,445 comments

User12 you’re telling me that i’m currently in the same country as THE daniel ricciardo?

kellypiquet i’m still trying to recover from that hike

→ User13 kelly and max went on a double date with daniel and the new girl?!

→ User14 omg please be y/n. i can’t imagine kelly agreeing to it otherwise

User15 i know he's trying to distract us with his beauty but we see the last slide, daniel. we see it

pierregasly so you’re telling me that you were in milan and didn’t bother to come and see me? that’s it. i'm ending our friendship

→ danielricciardo i’m sorry, mate. i was doing more important things

→ pierregasly clearly ;)

User16 someone check on y/n, please

→ User17 babe is clearly having the time of her life in italy (yes, i'm delusional)

User18 does nobody find it odd that he’s posting a soft launch not long after y/n posted a soft launch

→ User19 i know! it’s only been three weeks since hers and he’s posting one

→ User20 i can’t decide whether they’re soft launching each other or he’s trying to make her jealous by flaunting a new relationship as well

→ User21 it HAS to be each other or i will die

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

15•10•2023

lando.jpg just posted

liked by YourUserName, danielricciardo and others

lando.jpg so i attended this event… and no, it’s not mine before you all freak out

8,223 comments

charles_leclerc it was a beautiful day ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux i’m so thankful to have been a part of such wonderful memories

kellypiquet the most beautiful bride i have ever seen

maxverstappen1 this was a nicer caption than i expected from you

→ danielricciardo agreed

→ landonorris i take offence to that

User1 guys do we think kelly and max got married? they’ve both commented on this?

→ User2 yes but so did charles and alex so…

→ User3 plus, i know kelly is stunning but do we really think she would call herself the most beautiful bride in 3rd person?

georgerussell63 i’m surprised you remember much after the state you were in

→ landonorris excuse you but most of that was just pure happiness

hulkhulkenberg an amazing day

estebanocon so happy to have been a part of this

alex_albon how’s the hangover, mate

→ landonorris i didn’t drink that much!

→ georgerussell63 tell that to the bouquet that you puked on

→ landonorris i caught it so it was mine anyway

carlossainz55 beautiful photos. she’ll love those

→ User4 who’s she?!

lewishamilton🤍🩵

fernandoalo_official congratulations to the happy couple

User5 the entire grid are commenting on this post, clearly having been in attendance. who IS IT?

pierregasly c’était une belle mariée

liked by YourUserName

User6 guys, y/n’s name on socials just changed from y/l/n to ricciardo

liked by danielricciardo

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

03•04•2024

YourUserName just posted with danielricciardo

liked by kellypiquet, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName my husband helped with this project. baby ric coming aug 2024

9,550 comments

kellypiquet you will be the most beautiful mother. i’m so honoured to be part of this with you 💕

→ YourUserName stop you’re going to make me cry. you’ll be the most perfect godmother

→ kellypiquet i still think you should've married me instead

maxverstappen1 i call godfather

→ landonorris no you don’t get to call godfather! you already got to be a groomsman

→ maxverstappen1 yeah because who helped get them back together

→ YourUserName kelly

→ danielricciardo me

→ YourUserName no, babe

danielricciardo and before you all ask, no I haven’t stopped crying since she told me

→ kellypiquet me too, dan, me too

maxverstappen1 on a serious note, i am very happy for the two of you. y/n will be a wonderful mother, and daniel, he’ll be there also

charles_leclerc i am so excited. alex keeps telling me to stop buying baby things for you guys but i just don’t listen

→ YourUserName well at least you can safely say that uncle charl bought little mcqueen’s love

→ User7 uncle charl!!!!

lewishamilton congratulations, you two. y/n looks amazing

fernandoalo_official how lovely 💚

User8 omg it WAS their wedding lando attended!!!!!

hulkhulkenberg baby ricciardo!!

pierregasly congratulations. i can’t wait to be uncle GASSLYYYYYY

alex_albon welcome baby ricciardo

→ lilymhe it’s not an alien, alex. you don’t have to greet it so formally

redbullracing we’re all so excited for the upcoming grid baby. working on a racer stroller right this minute

→ mclaren you stole our gift idea!

→ redbullracing you stole our driver!

carlossainz55 congratulations y/n and daniel 😄

mercedesamgf1 what wonderful news 🍼

landonorris i’m just so glad i can go back to calling you mum and dad without daniel wanting to drive his car into the barrier

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Please don’t hate me for this! I did say from the beginning that Part 2s would be redemption.

I’ve had this planned and written since before Part 1 was published so when half of you then asked for her to get with another driver/move on, I was like noooooo I’ve already planned their baby 😂

As always. Requests welcome. If you have requested, I promise I’m not ignoring it, it’s been added to my queue

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @leclercsluvs @hannannannannannah @lifeless-firefly @sinofwriting @exotic-iris13 @imperfect-paragon @dan3avocado @barcelonaloverf1life @avillagesperson @hard4ndsoft @justzluv @laneyspaulding19 @danielshoe @chocolatefanunknown @redcrescentmoons

Sorry if I missed anyone!

2K notes · View notes

all-purpose-dish-soap · 1 year ago

Note

do you have a masterlist?

i do now 👉👉

👇

nsfw content is marked per post.

everything mine | desktop only: everything mine but chronological

stories snippets everything Gaz everything Soap everything Ghost everything Price everything multi-141 and poly 141 everything Alejandro everything KorTac everything Hesh and Keegan tag games/ask games

---series masterlists---

soulmate Soap

gym partner Gaz

post-apocalypse au

shark mermen 141 AU

---other series---

pick up lines

at Gaz: looking good.

at Soap: do you have a mirror in your pants? because i can see myself in them.

at Soap: what’s the difference between an enzyme and a hormone? you can’t hear an enzyme.

at Soap: do you like magic? because I’ve got a rabbit and a wand we can use.

^ follow-up: i think you broke me. / would you rather i broke your bed instead?

at Gaz: call me bunny, cause i wanna bounce on your lap

^ follow-up in the car

messy sexual tension Gaz

01: Gaz making things sexual on purpose 02: Gaz being jealous 03: Gaz getting your lewd selfie 04: …

soft dom gaz (wholesome route)

01: falling into bed with soft dom Gaz 02: waking up next to soft dom Gaz

soft dom gaz (toxic route)

01: flirting with Gaz on the job 02: spreading rumors about dating Gaz 03: spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2 snippet: you like it when Gaz bullies you snippet: Gaz isn’t gonna fix you <3 snippet: Gaz “savior complex” Garrick

TF-141 and free use medic reader

free use + rough sex + group sex

Soap is pissed

Ghost and Gaz protective over you

Ghost teaching Soap how to take care of their toy

with Alejandro

first time meeting Ghost

Ghost + coworkers with benefits, part 1

Ghost + coworkers with benefits, part 2

dark courtly love au

01. a courtly love au, but unhinged 02. Ghost is a weapon

witch!reader and familiars!141 au

snippet: witch of the wilds reader shapeshifter familiars 141 tormenting witch reader, part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 + epilogue

---misc by character---

Soap

“And why would a medic need a call sign?”

Soap is a munch, but it’s not for your benefit

meeting best friend Soap at the airport (hurt/comfort)

Soap indulging himself on you

Gaz

Gaz plays tank; you play healer

snippet: Gaz bites you bites you bites you bites y

Price

smutty collab: Price impolitely asking for your attention

Nikto

Nikto and honeypot reader (a la red sparrow)

Hesh

offering to help Hesh out with his virginity

Keegan

snippet: let me divorce you

snippet: ex-husband keegan

Captain MacTavish

treating you like an unruly kitten

^ soft counterpart: when you keep fighting him anyway

multi

snippet: thinkin about a reader who is a people-pleaser in bed (with TF141)

snippet: people-pleaser reader + Horangi (+ KorTac)

snippet: TF141’s reactions to “can you get this thing off the top shelf for me?”

snippet: TF141’s reactions to “want me to paint your nails?”

snippet: topping Gaz and Ghost

^ follow up snippet: biting Gaz and Ghost

snippet: TF141’s favorite sexy clothes on you

snippet: TF141 protecting you because you’re their asset

snippet: TF141 with a Japanese/bilingual reader

totally failed at making a cake for the boys

if the military wanted you to have a wife, they'd issue you one

snippet: TF141 + cars

#masterlist #mine

1K notes · View notes

jiminjamms · 8 months ago

Text

sex therapy :: 31. gangbangs

summary: a very self-indulgent chapter/pseudo-oneshot. **naoya’s ex-wife becomes toji’s girl. everybody wants a taste, and why not have the younger cousin watch the show?** alternatively, a gangbang with tattooed dilfs and dilf-adjacents.

chapter tags/warnings: five-some, gangbang, sex on tape, gun play (becoming a gun slut), cum play, breeding, creampies, exhibitionism, edging, degradation, praising, mentions of violence (murder, knives, guns), multiple orgasms.

word count: 5.5k

notes: happy kinktober and thank you for waiting! this started off as a concept (in my mind for a year-plus) and evolved into…a monster. too many men, too many hands, too many cocks. got lost in the sauce. despite being a smut chapter in a long fic, this update is borderline porn-without-plot. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

“I love getting gangbanged."

Naoya woke up in a dark room and to a throbbing headache.

Where…?

He looked around the unfamiliar surroundings slowly, blinking past his grogginess to register what almost looked like a crime movie’s interrogation room and groaning when the wrong angle to his head caused a sharp pain in his shoulder.

All around was an ominous and gloomy shade of gray—the walls, the ceiling, the floor, and heck even the door. How long had he been out for? Without windows, he could not take a wild guess at the time. Not to mention that the room also had no lighting, no pictures, and no décor.

Only him and this...random dinky chair he found himself tied up to.

Wait.

Tied up to?

Right. From what Naoya could last recall, he had been stopped by two men who took him out with a single strike.

In a vain attempt to set himself free, Naoya tugged at his limbs which were fastened behind him with sturdy cords. He twisted and turned, then twisted harder and turned even harder, until an unexpected voice startled him.

“You’re awake.”

Naoya went still.

Having zero visual stimuli sharpened Naoya’s other senses a little. He could feel the labored huffs in his breathing, hear the heavy footsteps that began in the chamber, and even taste the smoke that lingered in the hazy air.

Leering towards the door, Naoya quickly recognized his captors as they approached.

"Don’t give us that foul look, sleepyhead," the taller one whom he remembered as Eso announced as he slowly stopped in front of the scowling blonde. He had on him a wide and nefarious grin. "You had passed out for the last few hours. During that time, you could've been beaten. Or better yet, dead." He glanced up. "Right, Kechizu?"

His accomplice, who stopped on the opposite side, replied with a firm nod. From seemingly nowhere, he had pulled out a pocket knife and grazed the icy blade against Naoya's neck. "Ya feel that? I've been wanting to slit your throat, but I haven't. Lucky, lucky duck. Not everyone is this fortunate. All because our big bro Choso is being super nice to you."

Aware that a wrong move would cost him a jugular vein, Naoya listened intently. Since he worked with the other sex therapists before, he indeed recalled how his former colleague led a tightly-knit assassin ring, in which the members deemed each other 'brothers.'

Kechizu prodded Naoya again with his blade. "Big bro's the only reason you're still alive. Although, I don't know why you'd want to still be breathing now that the whole world knows you've been bumping uglies with your older cousin's ex-wife."

Eso hummed in agreement. "Well, at least for now," he began and he gestured around in vague motions, “you're already in paradise!” Then, he paused. “Well, correction. Here is where we send people to paradise. Or, more likely, hell.”

Noticing how Naoya uncharacteristically froze, the two snickered. In fact, they likely would've continued snickering if not for a shrill tone that pierced the air. The laughter stopped.

Eso's charcoal eyes flicked downwards.

"Left pocket, Kechizu."

The other man obeyed, lowering his knife (and thus giving Naoya an actual chance to breathe) before grabbing the phone from Naoya's blazer. A notification lit up the screen—a message, from you.

“She sent a video.”

Eso and Kechizu intentionally held the screen away, and their face quickly lit up with a sinister smile when they previewed the file. “Oh, yeah. Let's watch.”

“Come join us, sweetheart.”

You thought you were discreet.

Lingering at the doorway, you had been peering into the Zenin Corporation’s CEO Suite like a lost duck. This past afternoon, news about the leadership changes within Japan’s largest conglomerate had spread like wildfire across business and politics networks across the globe, announcing that Naoya Zenin had been forced to resign with Toji Fushiguro reclaiming his position as head of the company.

For the latter, you had questions—many questions. However, an inundated Toji was difficult to approach as he spent his entire afternoon in the office with his also-reinstated directors Sukuna, Geto, and Choso. From your observations, the men had been milling around the table, speaking to each other in hushed but decisive voices in conversations that must remind them of their days managing the Zenin Corporation before Naoya’s takeover.

They all appeared ridiculously handsome with their expensive custom-tailored suits that emphasized their muscular physiques and complemented their towering heights. Surrounded by legal documents and business reports, they carried themselves differently, too. More mature, organized, and serious, especially after hectic meetings with the Chairman Naobito Zenin, your COO father, and internal and external stakeholders had left etches on their calculating faces.

Now, however, Toji Fushiguro had caught sight of your quivering form at the entrance, and soon enough, all eyes turned to you. When you didn’t respond to his first invitation, the executive approached you in confident strides.

“Why do you look so shy?”

At the unanticipated attention, you averted your gaze onto the floor and tried to slink away into the hall slowly. “You all seemed occupied, and I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You're not interrupting anything," he clarified. "We have some time now.”

He tugged your wrist softly, which was all that you needed to follow him like a fawn into the room and crumble onto his lap once he sat down. Despite his dress pants, the warmth from his thighs heated your skin, and Toji nuzzled his face into your neck. His gravelly huffs sounded like all the other times you had heard him rasp, moments followed by endless endearment.

"About Naoya," the older man brought up from seemingly nowhere. You tensed at the name while Toji's cordial lips assuaged you. "Choso’s brothers are making sure he’s not going to do anything funny. We can't have him around as we are transitioning the company. As for you...knowing my cousin, he's going to keep claiming you as his property unless you get through his dense head," and his viridescent pupils flicked upward, "and the only way to do that is to show him.”

Although you didn’t know exactly what he meant, Toji hoisted you in one fluid motion onto his desk and sprawled you across the surface. He pushed your thighs apart, prompting sharp breaths that echoed in the room as onlookers raked their eyes down your figure. Some (namely, Sukuna and Geto) peered down shamelessly, while others (just Choso, really) tried to come off as cool and observed quietly. Nonetheless, the message in their perverted gazes was clear: what they wouldn't give to kiss you, bite you, and mark you right then and there.

Just as you shrank a little from the overwhelming attention, Toji reached for your phone and pressed the device firmly into your palm.

“Let’s send him a message.” Toji’s eyes locked onto yours, unflinching and sharp.

You blinked, raising an incredulous brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Leaning forward, Toji offered a clear view of the ink scrolling down his neck, his exhales warm against the beading cold sweat on your forehead. “Open up the camera. Let's send Naoya Zenin a surprise.” He gently pinched you. "Like I said, that idiot wouldn't understand shit unless you slam the idea into his dumb skull.”

You hesitated, glancing down at the phone in your hand.

“A photo won't be enough, by the way. We need a video. He won't get the fucking idea unless he sees and hears the proof.” When you complied, Toji turned to the colleague closest to him. "Wanna do the honors, Suguru?"

The said man came forward eagerly, the obsidian in his eyes sparkling. "'No' is never my answer to you, sir." Given your compromising position, he had the easy option to tear your lacy panties and stuff himself into your core except he wanted to take his time.

"I heard a lot about you." His compliments were all purrs that sent hot shivers shooting through your veins. "Mind if I take a go at you, too?"

After being passed between his three other colleagues, you must admit that you had at least thought about what sex with Geto was like, too. "Please."

At the permission, the man smiled and bunched your underwear to one side. The cold air hitting your drenched cunt made you shiver, but the collective groan in the room rumbled even louder, a reminder of the many men around you. Men who were being patient for you. Men who could not stop thinking about you. Men who, because of your ex-husband, had been holding grudges against you.

Geto pulled down his boxers just until the waistband fitted snugly under his balls. His cock stood proud with precum dribbling down his length as he positioned himself in the comfy spot between your thighs. He pressed against the table until his knuckles turned white, aligning himself with your entrance.

Without extra stimulation, your saturated folds welcomed him easily and you gasped loudly at the intrusion.

"Shit, you’re soaking," Geto sighed softly as you clenched around him, swarming his veins with gratification. He tipped his head forward, his loose strands framing his face. “Tell me to stop if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He was so sweet, so kind. You nodded and hazily recognized that this was what making love was supposed to feel like: tender, gentle, and loving. This was Suguru Geto's charm.

Before you could say more, an opportunistic Sukuna took his place above you. He moved quickly, undoing his belt and tugging hastily at his trousers, humming loudly with relief when he pulled his pants down and his massive cock sprang free. Despite being jostled by another man, you swabbed at the bubbling precum before pushing your thumb into your mouth, relishing his clean and salty tinge on your tongue.

Amused, Sukuna chuckled darkly. "What a fucking tease," he crowed, then patting your cheek. "C'mon. Open up, baby. Let me get to the back of your throat."

With little resistance, he popped your jaw open and sank his massive girth into your mouth. Gradually, you bobbed your head back and forth, letting your tongue lick every millimeter to him. He, likewise, pushed his hips forward, bringing your nose flushed against his well-trimmed patch of pink hair. He plucked the recording phone from your hands, and you sensed him tapping on the screen to focus on the erotic display where your bodies connected, your sinful lips accepting his fat cock with ease.

"You are such a good girl." Sukuna Ryomen confirmed, his movements mind-numbing as though he wanted to breed your esophagus. He wrapped a hand around your windpipe, constricting your airflow and causing you to gag. "Brat looks like a goddamn goddess sucking dick. Isn't that right, Choso?"

No response.

Curious, your pupils rolled to the side.

The assassin's the man you feared the most.

He was quiet, always guarded, his mysterious eyes pulling you in like two black holes. You could never know what he’s thinking about, although you lucidly remember his crooked obsession with 'disciplining' you.

"Hey, honey.” Geto's deft fingers suddenly gripped your chin, forcing your gaze to return to him. “Pay attention to us, m'kay?"

You hummed in response, Sukuna’s dick still bulging visibly in your throat.

"I don’t want you to lose focus," an overly aroused Suguru went on to explain. He breathed heavily. Shaking. Or maybe that was you? He clutched your love handles harshly before he pulled out and stepped to the side, making you stroke himself with your delicate hands instead. Briefly, you assumed that Geto preferred handjobs and wanted to ejaculate onto your breasts, only to get your answer when your puffy clit came into contact with the sharp coolness from…metal?

"Choso," Toji's harsh voice warned.

Brought back to your senses, you looked down to see Choso using the fluids to lubricate...his gun. You recognized the weapon, the same one you had seen in his car. The same one he would use to kill. All air in your lungs left swiftly. What the actual fuck. Sheer mortification was the only reason you didn't have the guts to do anything (because, if Choso became irritated enough, he could pull the trigger and then you would have no guts at all), and your silence only gave him a reason to continue defiling you into his personal gun slut.

He stared at his boss with an unperturbed frown. "You know I like her too much to hurt her."

A squeal tumbled past your lips when the pistol's freezing barrel pressed past your tight hole. Although you partially expected Toji to warn the weapon-wielding man again, Toji instead leaned forward in his chair, jaw resting on his fist. He could seem more concerned, but the mirthful glimmer in his emerald eyes said otherwise.

Meanwhile, Choso's piercing gaze alone made you sweaty, your forehead turned glossy with a sheen. He lazily massaged your inner walls, your warm arousal coating his cool metal before leaking onto the table, the only struggle now was how your body involuntarily twitched. To your fascination (and horror), pleasure began to build with each too-hard pass of his barrel. There were just too many sensations going on. Messy mouth deepthroating one cock, slicked hands stroking another, and sloppy cunt taking in a gun. You did your best to give everybody equal attention because you were a desperate crowd-pleaser, not wanting anyone to feel left out.

With your back arched from the table, you became increasingly frantic, demonstrating through feverish movements that all you were was their obedient little bitch. All these hands on your body, skin on your skin. You felt them all, the senses exhilarating and fascinating.

Toji sternly interrupted from seemingly nowhere. “I can tell from your movements that you want to cum, don’t you?” Maybe, but you were too overwhelmed to focus solely on your pleasure. Nothing that your therapists couldn't help with. Leaning over, Toji snaked an arm around your body to press tight circles at your engorged clit. "Be selfish for a little bit," he coaxed. "Cum for us."

His permission sent you immediately vaulting over the edge, your whole body spasming as an orgasm tore through you. Your lips parted, but you didn't scream. Your eyes shut slowly and rolled to the back of your head as every millimeter in your fragile body unraveled completely—fluttering, cramping, and shuddering.

Your ears became blessed with chorused laughter and praise.

Choso inspected your copious juices that suddenly coated his gun, a translucent thread trailing from the barrel to your now-exposed cunt. Reaching over, Sukuna wrapped his hand around Choso's forearm. He leaned into the pistol and parted his lips, swirling his tongue slowly around the barrel. His maroon eyes were half-lidded, giving him an almost lazy yet focused look as he dragged his tongue along the metal, lapping up your precious essences—the syrups rich and just a bit tangy. Drooling and sucking like a little kid with a lollipop, Sukuna didn't care that his spit trailed from the metal down to the other man's wrist and flipped the camera to selfie mode to capture the action.

Towards the end, his tongue swiped over his lips, leaving a luster from your elixir that coated his mouth. “So fuckin’ sweet.”

After another generous lick, he swished the concoction in his mouth before pinching your chin, and your mouth propped open. Pleased, he hummed when you stuck your tongue out, showcasing just how naughty you were. He drooled the spittle into your mouth, the saline taste blossoming on your taste buds, a thread of spit connecting your chin and his.

"Sharing," Sukuna chuckled darkly into your phone's microphone, "is absolutely fucking caring."

Nearby, Suguru groaned. He hurriedly clambered to the comfy space between your plush thighs, shoving a grumbling Choso aside. "I'm so fucking close."

He buried his dick into your tunnel, the veins on his cock pulsating. Call him selfish or masochistic, but as much as he wanted to reach his high, Geto denied his orgasm to stay longer inside and prevented himself from fucking bursting.

“Don't hold back, Suguru,” you urged.

Geto furrowed his brows, sweat gathering on his forehead as he tried his best to hold out. He admitted earnestly, "I don't want to give you up, baby.”

“I want you to cum,” you said, all whiny with puppy eyes. Free hand slithering down, you cupped his aching balls and gently squeezed his heavy testes. "Besides,” you glanced over at the camera, “show Naoya how you can breed me…daddy."

Sugaru’s eyes widened at the unexpected nickname that he loved so much. That’s it. He’s done for. His handsome features crumpled from an over-the-top pleasure as he gave his snapping hips one final push and pumped you full, coating your cervix white with his thick essence as he rested his head against your forehed, panting into your ear and moaning into your skin.

Pressing one last kiss on your cheekbone, he pulled himself out of your hot cunt, allowing others to have their way with you.

Sukuna got behind you eagerly. He repositioned your shaking body, his calloused hands tossing you over and leaving you panting on your hands and knees. His harsh squeeze at your sides made you squeal just as he pulled your legs apart for easier access, exposing your cute hole.

"Shit, she's making a mess, dripping onto the desk." The same desk that belonged to Naoya merely several hours ago. Adjusting your phone camera, Sukuna thumbed through your folds like they were pages in a book, scoffing at the viscous dallops that slid out. The tattoos on his wrists gleamed pitch black under the glossy mixed juices.

"Suguru's cock did you well, but this pretty lady isn't finished yet, eh? She can take more. I know she can." His hands weaved into your hair and tugged harshly. "Tell us, missy. You can handle more, correct?"

The threat in his menacing tone only suggested there was one answer. You whimpered pathetically, "Yes."

With a crooked smile, Sukuna pressed his muscular form against your back. That man was starving. After all, he had been waiting to have your pussy properly wrapped around his painful erection when he could've greedily taken you for himself first.

"Stop moving so I can angle myself correctly," Sukuna reprimanded when you wobbled on all fours.

Hardly any time was given to let you register the warning before the man plunged into your sensitive socket. He ignored your desperate wail, amazed at how he plugged you all the way. His pace started off sensual and languid. Each snug press against your battered cervix at first made you squeak, but you became too far caught up in the moment that the discomfort disappeared as promptly as the sensation came.

"Mhm," Sukuna hummed, a squelch ringing through the room each time he would bottom out. He didn't need to say anything for him to feel how wet you were, fluids trickling out from your puffy hole and creating what looked like the Nile River running down your thighs.

"Holy fuck," Choso swore to the side, his emotions a rare display.

Blissful waves rushed to your head, one after another. Arousal flooded into your tummy, your cunt twitching uncontrollably as a second climax started to sneak up on you.

Sukuna groaned—or at least attempted to groan—through the exertion of his forceful movements. How he had missed playing with you. A few trickles of sweat on his forehead glided over the ink on his forehead before dripping onto your back. He pumped himself faster, his balls smacking against your clit harder—savoring how you squirmed underneath his direct influence.

He could not resist peering down at the sacred space where your bodies connected and ensured that the camera, too, had an unobscured view. The problem was he had become so agonizingly turned on that his hold on your phone began shaking. He rasped, back straightening. “Goddamn, your cunny does me good.”

Not long after, he reached his release snarling and grunting like a dog as white ropes shot from his cock and into your uterus, with him nearly dropping your device onto your ass from his sheer ecstasy.

"No!" you protested loudly when Sukuna pulled out abruptly, hissing as your empty hole clenched around nothing. "I..." You balled your fists, thumping the desk in frustration. "I was so fucking close."

"Don't worry." The strawberry-haired man tenderly brushed away the tears by your jaw. Like he hoped to comfort you somehow. "Nothing Choso can't help with. He'll take great care of you." He looked over at the said colleague. “Isn’t that right?”

Gulping, you followed his gaze to the other man who had stopped behind you.

"You look nervous," Choso commented matter-of-factly. "Why?"

As if he didn’t already know the answer. You rolled your eyes and snorted like a true brat, indeed. "None of your business."

Besides, you had enough encounters with Choso Kamo, each incident more indecent than the last. This time, he naturally noticed your eyes drift to the gun tucked into his back pocket, the saps from earlier creating an ample moist patch on his pants.

“So, tell me, bimbo," Choso spoke again. He didn't care to announce himself as he unbuckled and pressed in, stretching you with his thickness, aided by your copious reserve containing both arousal and cum, hitting that sweet spot that he had no problem finding over and over. "Did you think I had been done with you already?"

Holding in whimpers from his repeated thrusts, you let out a soft groan.

"I can't hear you."

"Yes."

“But, do you want me?”

Silence.

“I am not going to repeat my—”

"I want you s’ badly..."

A demon must have possessed you. There was no other way to explain yourself. But those remarks were all Choso needed before he began to move impossibly fast within you. He didn’t care that he pounded into you like a beast, creating a commotion that perhaps the floor below could hear your wetness reverberate around the room.

"This is for being a fucking tease." Choso raised his hand high and then delivered an unforgiving blow against your ass. Unprepared, you yelped from the sheer force, which had been enough to leave a handprint on your unblemished cheeks.

"I didn't—!" Your attempt to defend proved futile as Choso spanked you again with little regard for your feelings.

"This is for giving me an attitude," he continued, gruff. And again. "For forgetting how to behave, shit." And again, and again, and again. For this, for that, his listed grievances going on and on and on, his punishments making you cry and squirm and wail.

Choso knew he was selfish. If his boss Toji wasn't involved, he would want nothing more than to keep you forever, making you his little gun slut and teaching you to cum all over him. He couldn’t help it. As if the roles were reversed. Like he was the inexperienced one, unaware of his partner's feelings and only caring for his pleasure. He remained relentless as he continued his abuse, the tendons along his hands and arms flexing with his efforts, like the crazed killer he was being out for blood.

The distressed expression written all over your face only made him want to go harder. He loved making it hurt, his sadistic personality entirely to blame. With every pump, his testes smacked onto your clit repeatedly, feeling him sink deeper and deeper inside.

“F-Fuck—S’ too much, Choso!” A sob wracked your trembling figure amidst his assault. In distress, you tugged at his wrists to get him to ease up on you. That didn't matter. He was too strong, especially when compared to you.

"I thought you wanted to cum."

"I do!" But you didn't think you would be able to cum like this. "This...This is too painful!"

As if he cared.

"Oh, please," Choso scoffed, even rolling his inky eyes in dismissal. "This isn't painful. You're just being dramatic. If you think this is painful...how do you think I felt, hm? Watching Geto and Sukuna take turns defiling you. Hearing you blubber their names without shame. Did you think that I—with my cock stiff in my pants—that I didn't feel pain? Listen to yourself. God, turns out you're just another selfish slut."

Scorching tears streamed down your face, and you searched around desperately.

"No one here's going to save you," Choso announced, reading right through you. He pressed his face against your earlobe, a hot puff of air fanning out across your delicate skin. "Because it's too obvious. You fucking like this, pup."

Did you?

Even if that wasn't the case, you guess you did now, the unwavering conviction in Choso's tone spurring a change of heart. It’s sick, you realized, he’s manipulating me.

Yet, sure enough, you soon started to feel lighter, giddier. Your pupils dilated from stimulation and your muscles tingled with excitement. Choso felt so good. You felt so good, and the coil from deep within your cervix compressed tighter and tighter as a pressure built from within.

"I'm close...again." This time, it's a little embarrassing to admit, especially when you were complaining like a puppy just minutes ago.

"What did I tell you, pet," Choso growled, the corners of his mouth quirked upwards in a rare grin. He made you feel glorious. Consequently, you writhed underneath his body, fully submissive under his control. You wanted nothing more than to be a pliant baby girl for him, let him use you in any way he wants. "Cum and squeeze my cock."

“Make me.”

“Oh?”

One final blow to your ass was what hurled your body over the edge.

“I—” you choked on your spit. "I'm coming!"

You shrieked the moment you felt your body disintegrate, your shoulder blades caving in as sweat fell like raindrops from your skin. Elbows giving up, your head hit the table, leaving your temples pulsing with dizziness, bliss, and pain; your eyes staring at the wood finishing; your chest rising up and down, exasperated from the intensity of your release.

And oh, your pussy squeezed Choso good. Before he could hold himself back, Choso dug his nails into your ass. "Fuck, you are incredible," was the last thing he muttered before he came as well in one long grunt, splattering your womb with his creamy semen. He made you tremble when he pulled out, releasing the mess inside and leaving you feeling oddly empty and cold. Glob after glob of cum oozed out, semen from multiple perpetrators painting over your labia, which made the surrounding men grin at the sight, knowing that you held all their seed inside.

Nothing except their breeding hole, that was what you had become. There was something they adored about labeling you as their personal whore.

Not long afterward, a warm hand took yours into his own. Toji caressed the skin of your palm before pulling you right onto his lap again. In the end, he was whom you belonged to. If anybody wanted to do anything to you, they had to talk to him first.

Toji helped you straddle him, tucking one leg onto his either side, except you were so fucked out that you didn’t know who you were or where you were from.

"C'mon, honey. Don't lose yourself just yet," he murmured gently, brushing a few free strands from your forehead. Otherwise, you would've gone limp and lost all senses completely.

Toji had been waiting for you. He considered this a sign of his maturity, allowing the younger and more impatient men to make a mess with you first. Now, though, was his turn, fair and square.

His exposed length pressed up against his abdomen with fantastic girth and length such that—despite your current state—your pupils went heart-eyed and your mouth drooled from sight alone. He loved when you made that expression, one he had seen countless times in his dreams; a guilty pleasure in reality. He chortled at your sharp gasps, finding you adorable even after being stuffed by several men.

However, just when you didn't think you could handle more, his red-flushed head brushed over your clit and jolted your veins with the familiar wave of arousal. You shifted, the sticky mess between your legs uncomfortable. In a brief moment of lucidity, you had an epiphany. With one hand resting on Toji's shoulder, you reached down with the other to spread your folds, biting your lip as you clamped down on your sensitive walls hard.

Sure enough, a generous amount of cum trickled out of your used cunt, oozing onto Toji’s cockhead and sliding down gradually to his balls.

"Holy shit."

Eyes grew wide with surprise, jaws dropped in reaction to your nasty actions. Since when did you learn to become so dirty? Flushed cheeks betrayed their interest as they continued their lustful staring. Generous was what you were, letting them ogle like schoolchildren for a few moments longer before you scooped up the slick and began to suck on your fingers. Softly, you hummed at the succulent flavors concocted by you, Suguru, Sukuna, and Choso combined.

"Next up is you."

“So fuckin’ filthy," Toji praised with utter adoration.

As you continued, you made sure not to break eye contact as you subtly rutted your sopping cunt against his tip. You coyly batted your long lashes in his direction, making sure he could feel the liquids running down his cock and the throbbing pussy that awaited him.

You smiled. "All yours, Dr. Fushiguro."

He suddenly grew smitten at how polite you could be, and using his hands as a guide, he helped you sink into him slowly. “Goddamn.” The sound that emerged from him was wholly obscene, a carnal desperation only matched by your movements, your thighs constricting his hips and your eyes rolling backward. How cozy, you discovered yourself to be, snug at his hilt. Toji had filled you all the way but a few centimeters of his cock remain, his tip already kissing against your spent uterus.

Something about knowing that his little cousin would watch this made Toji want to do everything to push deeper into you. He started by rocking your waist against a rhythm, and a near-pornographic mewl escaped your lips when his shaft ran over an especially sensitive spot, the ridges rubbing against your cavern and sending pleasure through your every limb. He hummed at the way you squealed and loved how expressive you were with your body and feelings.

His tongue laved across your shoulder before stopping over your collarbone. "You'll still go back to Naoya after this?"

"Absolutely not," you mumbled with sincerity. "I would hate myself if I did."

“Excellent,” he slurred, his spit drooling down your back from where his mouth had latched onto your neck. “That’s…exactly what I wanted to hear, baby.”

Baby. Your eyes squeezed shut, responding with a whine. Although the overstimulation was originally uncomfortable, you began to feel satisfaction cut through the soreness once again as your body prepared for one more climax. You rocked your hips in need, like an animal in heat, a sight that would certainly drive your ex-husband crazy. “F-Feels,” you paused to pant, “Feels good.”

“Fuck.” Toji gritted out, breaking through his cacophony of crude moaning and effectively searing your skin. He continued steering your body in the rhythm he learned you liked, his nails nearly piercing your skin despite their bluntness. He cupped your jaw harshly. “What are you to us, sweetheart?”

“Oh.” You laughed a little, clearly delirious, and then replied. “'M your cumdump.”

“Say that again.”

“I—”

“Louder.” The emeralds in his heavy-lidded eyes skated briefly to the phone. “I want everyone to hear.”

So, you mustered all your energy to give your final answer—and the correct answer. "I am your cum dumpster!"

Toji started saying something, chuckling maybe, but his words weren’t clear even as he tossed his head back. His breathing was deep, wet, and sexy, and he was no doubt blistering hot in his business blazer, his slicked-back hair soaked with sweat and hanging limply in front of his flushed face. His expression, on the other hand, was what got you the most; his eyes drawn shut, his brows slightly pinched, his mouth just barely parted.

He panted, raising his head to lock lips with yours, moaning into your mouth lewdly before pulling back, and admiring your fucked out expression, face heated and sweating.

“Shit, you’re too good to me,” was the last thing Toji sighed before he added to your womb with his hot cum, his grip on your body tightening as his balls twitched and lodged his precious seed into the sacred cavern. Pussy clamping down, you milked him, not willing to let a single drop go to waste, gasping when the explosive warmth made you shatter with him, leaving you hiccuping and spasming until you were just jolting and crying out from the stretched muscles in your body.

Overheated, you slumped forward. Sweat rolled uncomfortably down your back, spit smeared across your neck and shoulders and chin.

But you looked up and giggled at your latest discovery.

“I love getting gangbanged."

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: I spent way more time preparing this chapter than I expected, writing, rewriting, and editing. Adding, shortening, then adding again. (At some point, this was nearly 7K words.) This is far from perfect, but I must relinquish myself. Thank you again for reading!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @sakuraryomen01 @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzuruu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @lazyassfinals @katkbc @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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physics-of-one-piece · 2 months ago

Text

Merlot & Primroses

(Doflamingo x Reader)

Chapter 4

AO3

Summary: Your husband’s brother finds you. Life with him and his sham of a family is as cold as the snow your husband was found buried in. You're going to wilt slowly living with Doflamingo, you’re sure. No flower can survive in such snow.

Masterlist

Tags: Female!Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Civilian!Reader, Rosinante x Reader (mentioned through flashbacks), Kidnapping, Gaslighting, Forced Proximity, Vomiting, Nausea, Panic Attack, Hyperventilating, Forced Hugging, Doflamingo's Comforting Skills are Non-Existent, Attempted Comfort, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Lack of Clothing Autonomy, Lingerie, Mentions of Fratricide, Grief, Angst, Post-Minion Island, North Blue Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Touch-Starved Doflamingo, Doflamingo is His Own Warning, Protective Donquixote Doflamingo, Adult Themes

Word Count: 10.2k (don't look at me, don't even look at me, I'm ashamed 🫣)

A/N: The "first part" of the behemoth that became Chapter 4 bcs Doffy couldn't keep it in his pants! (I mean, I'm not complaining but daaamn, Doffy). Next part will be released... When it's released! Either 2 weeks or a month. I wish I could have made it to post both the same day but I still need to write so much for next chap so pls be patient with me and forgive me 😭! I really thought myb I would be able to write Part 2 thoroughly, but alas... Thank you everyone for all the comments and reblogs and likes, I love simping over Doffy with you all and hearing all your thoughts and talking. 💕 Also, tell me what you think about the gradient of the title, I rather like it! Dividers are my own and free to use!

I do my best tagging everything and putting in trigger warnings in the tags so don't read the chapter until you've READ all the tags for it. Love you all ❤️

Also! WE HAVE... FANART of Law "Really? Right in front of my mochi?" by @rat-quing thank you so much I'm still not over it. I'm so flattered my fic inspired you 🥹😭🫶🏻❤️

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @moonbaby26 @daydreamer-in-training @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @pinejayy @tellynojelly @capycapy-bara @dilf-destroyer-04 @yataidiot @orioncipher @isabeauwolf @r-amenegg @skullfacedlady @wrennyx @yan-love-reader @caldrien @rujellyroll @bonzaibaby @emilyfeetumbrella @ghostiequill @pipsterz @graceland321 @panthorastormheart @thesmolestsage @thesaltycrisp @hurricanebrownie @heroinicyfingers @t-sarah @aganhim @smol-flower-kiddo @vaniiiavengeance @sagyunaro @froggiewrites @doffyslittledove @7wanne @ohnomyhooves @tinycreature21 @aganhim @anime-fan-isa-art @fruity0salad @tavsianus @xblackxjackx @hime44444 @ripndips @shanalikeanna @multifandomgirl2018 @shirayuki-ayumi @misaneeragoni

Chapter 4

It was nothing new to see Corazon in the top executives’ lounge room. He spent most of his free time there, sitting on the large lilac armchair, either reading a book or the newspapers, drinking tea or sleeping with his head resting atop the backrest, breathing so quietly Law sometimes wondered if the man was truly sleeping at all.

There was a song playing from the gramophone, a man singing “I’d like for you and I to go ro-man-cing, say the word, your wish is my command”.

Law didn’t know the name of it, and didn’t care very much. It was a stupid love song that made Law roll his eyes. Corazon’s taste in music was not something Law cared about, or wanted to comment on. He certainly didn’t think it was a mix of glam rock and music hall genres. Law didn’t even know there existed a mix of it.

Law wondered if Corazon and Diamante exchanged music records between each other. Corazon’s music seemed less loud, which Law appreciated. There was a softness and slowness to the song and the way the singer sang it compared to the singers Diamante liked to listen to. This song was very romantic compared to Diamante’s songs Law heard.

What captured Law’s attention today, however, and was new, was where Corazon was sitting today. His long, lanky body was sunk into a massive pink bean bag. The top executive was lounging on it, sleeping.

Law hadn’t seen this armchair in the top executives' lounge before, so he stared at it for a while.

“Do you know what that is, Law?” asked Doflamingo, walking into the room, towering behind Law.

The way Doflamingo stood by Law resembled an adult flamingo standing by a newborn chicklet.

Ever since Law joined the Family, he had started getting tutored by Doflamingo whenever the captain had time in his busy schedule.

Law had to admit, he liked his lessons with Doflamingo the best, because they consisted of two of Law’s favourite things: books and studying. Even far after the day was over and he was in the bottom bunk of the bunk bed — because Buffalo would never give up the top bunk — Law would spend time reading the book from that day.

“It’s a bean bag,” said Law, staring at the massive pink bean bag in confusion.

Doflamingo hummed as confirmation. “Corazon found it in one of the furniture magazines and liked it, so I bought it for him. This way, he’ll fall off his seat less.”

Law looked up to Doflamingo — he had to tilt his head back as far as he could to do so — and was greeted with the captain’s infamous unnerving smile, but it didn’t keep him from asking questions. He wasn’t afraid of Doflamingo.

“So, what, you just buy your brother whatever he wants?” asked Law. “Even if it’s a stupidly huge bean bag?”

Law waited for Doflamingo to laugh, to tell him he fell for the joke. Instead, Doflamingo stared blankly at him, as though Law had said something foolish. He stared at him for such a long time Law started feeling small.

Doflamingo always made Law feel small. It was not in a way regarding height. Law was incredibly aware how short he was and how tall Doflamingo was. No, Doflamingo made Law feel small in a way that Law felt like just a grain of sand in a desert, just a flower in a massive city, like a kid in a world that was ten thousand times bigger than him.

Law felt like a little ember and Doflamingo like an unstoppable, massive fire.

Law knew he wouldn’t feel or remain small these last three years. He was learning to fight, to kill, to destroy. He wanted to be like Doflamingo. He wanted to destroy everything and make everyone fear him. If Law was to go out — and he was, in three years time unless they found some miraculous Devil Fruit to cure his disease — he’d go out not as a spark and a little ember, but an overwhelming, unstoppable fire, burning down as much of the world in his path as he could.

After a long moment of staring down at Law in silence that would make any normal person squirm, Doflamingo said an equally blunt, calm, “Yes.”

“Why a bean bag?” asked Law.

“Corazón and I like soft surfaces to sleep on,” said Doflamingo. “Helps us with our backs.”

Law frowned at this, the doctor in him in complete disapproval. “If you have spinal issues, you should lay on hard surfaces. Hard mattresses offer better spinal support.”

“So I can have back pain and be uncomfortable?” asked Doflamingo, like that was the worst thing that could ever happen to him. “I might have a long spine but I’m not an idiot.”

“Plus,” said Doflamingo, crossed his arms, and smirked victoriously down at the bean bag Corazón’s long body had sunk into. “It’s pink.”

Law stared at Doflamingo in shock and disbelief.

“Fufufufu! You need to know how to have fun, Law.”

Law wasn’t here to have fun. He was here because he wanted to destroy.

“Speaking of fun… how did you like yesterday?” asked Doflamingo with a wicked, broad smile.

Yesterday, they’d raided a small town and burned it to the ground. It was the first time since Flevance Law saw fire eating away at buildings.

“How did it make you feel?” Doflamingo asked.

Why would other people have the right to be happy, to be laughing, when Law’s entire country, his friends from school, his parents, and his sister were burned to ash and killed by the World Government?

They burned his country and his people. So he was going to do the same to them before his sickness took him. Those monsters deserved nothing less.

Watching the flames eat away at the town made him feel lighter, relieved. He hadn’t felt that way since escaping Flevance.

“It made me feel better,” Law said.

Doflamingo smiled. “Well, isn’t feeling better fun?”

Something coiled in Law’s stomach. He wondered if he and Doflamingo really were alike as Doflamingo said they were.

“Isn’t destroying fun?” Doflamingo asked.

Law felt his blood go cold. Destroying felt… good.

But it didn’t feel fun.

On his spot on the bean bag, Corazon stirred, the feathers of his coat rustling as he sat up. Doflamingo smiled warmly at him.

“Do you like the bean bag, Corazón?” asked Doflamingo.

Corazon dipped his head in a nod.

“You just rest,” Doflamingo said to Corazón; his voice always turned quiet and gentle when he talked to his brother, and today was no exception.

Doflamingo gave Corazón a smile, also different from his usual sharp ones; this one actually looked nice on him, without any menace to it. “Good work yesterday.”

Corazón nodded, and plopped his head back down onto the bean bag. It reminded Law of those big, furry, golden dogs Lami always petted when they were walking back home from school; they plopped their heads onto Lami’s lap the same way, never failing to make Lami smile and giggle.

Law decided he was reminded of those dogs because of Corazón’s golden, wavy hair. Because Corazón was not friendly or huggable at all.

By the time Law looked at the younger Donquixote brother, Corazón had already dozed off.

Doflamingo gestured him to the library, and Law had no time to think about the silliness and normalcy of Corazon sleeping on the bean bag, burying himself in books for the afternoon.

After Law was done studying, carrying the last book because he still had some reading to do of it before he was satisfied for the day, he exited the library and found his jaw on the floor.

Corazon was still sleeping on the bean bag, but now, Buffalo and Baby 5 were using his thighs as beds.

“What are you doing?” asked Law, frowning at them for their stupid stunt. If Corazon woke up, he was undoubtedly going to punch them and toss them into the wall. It was brave, but stupid.

“Cora-san is comfy, dasuyan!” said Buffalo, smiling with his buckteeth.

“Come lay down, Law!” said Baby 5, giggling.

Law frowned. Carefully, he approached the bean bag, and Corazon, whose limbs were spread out. He started to climb the bean bag.

Slowly… slowly…

To think he was more afraid of Corazon than he was of Doflamingo… could anyone blame him? Corazon was absolutely nuts. He could throw Law across the entire length of the ship if he wanted to, and Law would definitely break a few bones if Corazon did that. Corazon seemed to really like chucking Law and grabbing him by his hat to do so, like Law was some chuckable toy for Corazon, not a sick child.

Law took a breath. The last thing he wanted was for Baby 5 and Buffalo to tease him about being a coward for not wanting to use Corazon like a big bed.

Law sat down between Corazon’s spread legs, beside Buffalo and Baby 5. The two giggled happily to have him join them. Law paid them no mind, and opened up his book to finish reading it.

Eventually, Law dozed off, slumping on Corazon’s stomach.

A few hours later, Rosinante woke up.

‘What the…’ thought the marine, looking down at the weight on his body. Baby 5 and Buffalo were comfortably sleeping on his thighs, and Law, much to his surprise, had joined them, sleeping on his stomach.

Rosinante stared at Law for a moment longer. Was it his imagination, or did the white spot on Law’s chest climb up to the kid’s collarbone?

Rosinante felt his heart clench.

Since when was he a pillow for these little squirts?

Rosinante stared at the ceiling of the Numancia blankly, wondering what urged him to take on this mission - duty, more or less was the answer to that - that led him to becoming a body pillow for three crazy kids. He barely felt the weight of Law and Baby 5, but he definitely felt the weight of Buffalo’s body slung across his left thigh.

Rosinante let out a sigh. He didn’t feel like tossing them off. He was far, far too comfortable in the marshmallowy softness of the bean bag to even think of lifting himself from it.

He’d give them a break from trying to run them off today.

Rosinante slumped his head back down, closed his eyes, glad for the dark purple sunglasses covering him from the light of the candles, and went back to sleep.

A few hours later, Doflamingo returned to the room in search for his brother, and once he entered, promptly froze at the sight before him.

‘What the…’ thought the pirate captain, processing the vision before him.

‘Holy shit,’ Doflamingo thought, his heart skipping a beat. Was he dreaming?

Doflamingo blinked numerous times, even pinched himself to wake up, but the scenery didn’t change. It was his little brother, sleeping on the bean bag, Law, Baby 5 and Buffalo sleeping on different parts of his body. Law’s position surprised Doflamingo the most; the boy was sleeping on his brother’s stomach, his book on his little chest, his arms and legs spread out in a starfish position, snoring softly, deep in sleep.

‘Holy shit.’ thought Doflamingo, a smile blooming on his face, followed by a delighted giggle.

Rosi was so cute with the kids!

Doflamingo needed to take a picture.

He needed to take a picture right now!

Heart racing, long fingers nearly shaking from delight, Doflamingo started rummaging through his feather coat wildly, praying to saints he had a camera snail in the numerous pockets somewhere.

Doflamingo pulled out a pink camera snail from his feather coat. He started snapping multiple pictures with the camera snail, chuckling.

Doflamingo smiled to himself. This was going to be such good blackmail material.

Scratch that.

He’s going to frame this and put it with the rest of their family pictures, print it and put it on the fridge, print another and put it in the Family album, then print a bigger one to fit on a wall and put it on the wall in his office.

His little brother was still the most adorable being in the world, and nobody could convince Doflamingo otherwise.

Doflamingo grinned ear to ear, his eyes squinting with the smile behind his sunglasses.

Baby 5 was excited to be the one given the task to lead you across the ship. Before you had the chance to blink to process the thought of a child who could transform her hand to a weapon at any time escorting you to the captain’s cabin — Doflamingo’s cabin — the little girl grabbed your hand and led you along, out of the galley. The moment those gentle, tiny hands had gripped onto yours, you felt a softness take over you, much like with Law.

And much like with Law, you let Baby 5 take you wherever the hell she pleased, because how were you supposed to fight against such a tiny hand clutching onto yours, an unspoken indication of the child’s trust?

It was too bad you were in the ship’s underbelly. If you were still on deck, you’d attempt to fling yourself off the deck and into the water. Screw the hundred meter drop, that’s nothing compared to being flown across the sky by Doflamingo.

Baby 5 led you through the wooden maze, the extravagant paintings framed on the walls reminding you with what sort of money the entire ship was built. The two of you reached the tail end of the ship.

“There it is!” said Baby 5 excitedly.

The two of you stopped in front of large white doors with a golden handle. Baby 5 pulled out a key from the pocket of her maid dress.

It was a golden key with Doflamingo’s jolly roger symbol shaping its bow. Baby 5 put the key into the lock and turned it. After a click, she stood on her tiptoes and pulled down the golden handle, opening the tall white doors.

When you didn’t dare enter, she took your hand again, giggling, leading you into the space.

Your jaw hit the floor.

The captain’s cabin was huge. The chessboard black-white floor pattern stretched out across the room, making you feel like a chess piece the moment you stepped in.

On the right, on a pink carpet were two large lavender couches facing each other, a dark mahogany table between them, covered by a feather quill and paper scattered all over it. Bookshelves and storage compartments lined the walls. A large map of the North Blue was framed on the wall, and a large black flag with Doflamingo’s jolly roger in white was pinned beside it, above the couch.

Five tall windows stretched along the wall, wall-mounted candelabras between each. A circular golden breakfast table with a glass surface paired with four large golden-framed, lilac tufted chairs sat in front of the windows.

It felt like the room of royalty. It unnervingly reminded you of one of the breakfast rooms in Pangea Castle you had the luck to be in while working as King Riku’s translator, with the golden table, the golden chairs, the golden framings on walls…

It felt as grand and as opulent as the rooms in Mariejois.

Baby 5 led you to another set of double doors to the right. These had Doflamingo's jolly roger framed in gold on each side. Baby 5 unlocked the room with a golden-shaped flamingo key.

Doflamingo’s quarters were large. Furs, feathers, silk and satins filled the space. It was flamboyant, but so tasteful it felt almost sacred. Yours and Rosinante’s bedroom was plain and plebeian in comparison.

A three and a half meter long golden bed stood against the wall, its golden headboard tall, a dark red tufted headrest surface taking up most of its large space. Above the tufted surface, the curved top edges of the headboard were decorated with golden carvings of feathers leading to the top center of the headboard where the golden shape of Doflamingo’s jolly roger was carved, grinning its golden, menacing, toothy grin at you.

The massive bed was covered by numerous layers of warm covers; first and foremost was a thick pink feather blanket. Beneath it was a polar bear fur blanket, a tiger fur blanket, a dark red merlot duvet, and beneath it all, a merlot red sheet. The two feather pillows were covered by silken merlot pillowcases. Underneath and around the area of the bed was a pink-stained tiger skin rug.

You went down and sat on the bed. The mattress was so soft it felt like you were sitting on a marshmallow.

Doflamingo certainly had a refined taste.

“Wow!” said Baby 5, looking around in awe. “I’ve never been in Young Master’s quarters! They’re so nice!”

Nice was one way to say this entire room is worth more than a small island’s treasury.

You got up and looked into the closet installed into the wall, parting the panels to look at the clothes inside.

This was enough to fill both yours and Rosinante’s closets. Doflamingo was the complete opposite of Rosinante. He had so much clothes, each garment fashionable and expensive. It felt overwhelming simply looking at all the clothes hanging in his closet, a wheel of all colours, all expensive and up to the latest fashion. Whichever colour you thought of, you could spot it.

There were a lot of capris pants, too, in rather… interesting colours and patterns.

What captured your attention the most were the pointed, low heel, white-black dress shoes. They fit Doflamingo the most somehow, another fashionable piece of clothing.

“You know, Young Master isn’t bad,” said Baby 5. “Cora-san was the mean one of the two of them. Cora-san always whacked us into walls for just getting in his way.”

Stay calm. She’s just a kid. A kid who can shoot you by transforming her arm into a gun, but still a kid.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “That must have hurt.”

Baby 5 shrugged nonchalantly. “He always hit me.”

You could imagine Rosinante scowling and saying, “To try to scare you into running away, you stubborn, stupid, overly brave brat.”

“So I didn’t care. He took Law away, though, and turned him against us. I’m angry at him for that.”

You stared at the girl. Is that what she thought? Sure, you could see that from her point of view, Rosinante kidnapped Law, but in the end, Law made his own decisions on who to stay with at the end of it all based on what he saw of a person. Law was far too smart and very aware of what people were good or bad based on their actions. He didn’t join Doflamingo out of some naivety - Law was very aware how destructive and evil Doflamingo was, and decided Doflamingo was the right fit to help Law get his anger at the world out.

It was thanks to your husband opening up his heart to Law, crying for Law, fighting tooth and nail to cure him even if it meant he’d die trying, that Law chose Rosinante.

In the end, all Law wanted was for someone to treat him as a human, not as some patient or a disease, or a weapon. For someone he could trust. For someone who wouldn’t be afraid of him, or throw him away. For someone to care.

You gazed at Baby 5, feeling an intense swell of sadness the longer you looked at her.

These children are already a lost cause. There’s no use talking to them, trying to explain the world of adults and right and wrong to them. This girl probably already killed someone. Just like Law did.

They weren’t your problem. They weren't.

But damn it, did your heart hurt for them. These poor kids.

You wondered if your husband thought the same. He must have. He must have wanted to take them all and save them. But he could only take one, and that one was Law, because Law was truly dying. Because Law was a D. He wasn’t meant to be Doflamingo’s minion. That boy was going to flip the world around one day, and frankly, you didn’t care if that meant flipping it for better or for worse, and you didn't care. If anyone wanted Law, they’d have to go through you first.

You didn’t care anymore about Law’s ancestry, and neither did Rosinante. To you, Law was Law.

And Law had to live.

“Oh! Come see your wardrobe!” said Baby 5 excitedly, taking you by the hand again and walking to the other wardrobe doors. When she opened them, your jaw dropped.

Dresses, jackets and coats of luxury brands in many colors were hanging on the long hanger. On the bottom were boots, heels and sandals of the same quality - luxurious, pricey, out of your paygrade.

There were quite a few black clothes, which was good. Doflamingo couldn’t really tell you what to wear, and you were going to wear black from tomorrow on. You noticed a lacking amount of pants, and a rather alarming amount of dresses and skirts. There were a few dress shirts and blouses. On the installed top shelves were fur hats, gloves and scarves. You opened the bottom drawers, and felt your breath stop. There were pantyhouses, tights, stockings…

You weren’t used to that many clothes, nor did you want to own that many. It was overwhelming.

A color caught your eye when you opened one of the drawers filled with sleeping clothes, chemises, night shirts and the like.

What the fuck?

It was a beautiful pajama set.

Wine red.

Merlot red.

The shorts and camisole were both satin a merlot red color. Black lace covered the v-neck of the camisole, its intricate pattern flowing out from the hem of the shorts.

You nearly screamed. You noticed another lingerie garment, black one this time. You reached out and unfolded it, and your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. It was a one-piece black lingerie, the sort of piece meant for one thing only.

Seduction.

You quickly put the garment back among the hanged clothes so Baby 5 doesn’t see the risque sleepwear. You felt your head burn from the heat on your face. How could Doflamingo tell his crew to buy something like that for you? Maybe they chose to buy it on their own to mess with you. You could definitely imagine Diamante being the sort of guy to suggest it to have a nice laugh at your misfortune.

You shook your head. Maybe that bodysuit lingerie wasn’t yours (even though it still had the price tag on its collar). Maybe one of the women Doflamingo undoubtedly charmed into bed with him had left it behind... You were impressed by whichever woman spent the night with Doflamingo, that they didn’t turn tail and run away full speed at the sight of Doflamingo’s wicked, dark grin.

You shuddered uncomfortably from head to toe at the mere memory of that grin.

Doflamingo undoubtedly was many women’s preferred type of man, you supposed. The sort of type they might regret sleeping with later when all is said and done, but… who were you to judge? You dated, married and very much slept with his sweet adorable little brother.

You loved a man in a high-ranking marine officer uniform.

Did Doflamingo let women he didn’t know in here, or onto the ship?

Thankfully, there was a nice black silk pajama set with buttons on the long-sleeved shirt and long sleeping pants. Not thick enough, but with all the thick covers and duvets covering Doflamingo’s bed, you weren’t worried about lack of warmth.

“Young Master says he’ll buy you more in Beliera. These clothes should last the week until we reach a city to buy you good clothes.”

You didn’t understand what good clothes meant to Baby 5. What was wrong with these? They looked brand new, were your size, and some of the coats were from highly reputable fashion houses. One coat was even padded on the inside from Drum Island’s snow rabbit fur.

“Thank you, Baby 5,” you say politely, because she can kill you, and you are tired. “You were really helpful.”

You want to go to sleep. If you wish it hard enough, maybe you’ll get lucky and wake up next to Rosinante with Law dive bombing your husband to wake him up, and this will all have been a very very bad nightmare.

Baby 5’s eyes lit up, shining. “I was?”

You smiled gently at the girl. “Yeah.”

“Can I ask you something?” asked Baby 5, looking up at you with her big dark blue eyes.

“Sure,” you responded, mindful to keep your voice soft and calm; the last thing you want to do is scare the kid who can transform her hand into a gun.

“Are you really Cora-san’s wife?” Baby 5 asked.

“Yes,” you said. “I am.”

Baby 5’s eyes lit up.

You do your best not to giggle at the adorableness. Pirate apprentice she may be, but a kid was still a kid at heart.

“Why on earth would you marry a jerk like Corazón?” asked Baby 5.

The word jerk and Rosinante didn’t fit together in a sentence for you. The word jerk and Doflamingo fit together in a sentence much more.

You were so surprised by her question that your lips parted slightly, leaving you to stare at the eleven-year-old girl with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry!” she said quickly, sounding and looking — scared. You never saw a kid be scared of you. “That was rude to say!”

“It’s okay,” you said, forcing a tiny smile. You knew even if you told her your husband wasn’t as violent toward kids as he painted himself to be during his undercover mission, you were sure Baby 5 wouldn’t trust you.

“Let’s see…" you said, sitting down on the edge of the bed, "you asked me what made me marry him, right?”

Baby 5 nodded.

You smiled. “He didn’t let me fall the first time we met.”

Baby 5 tilted her head.

“We both bumped into each other and fell over, but he instinctually made sure I didn’t hit my head on the cobblestone. He also asked me if I was okay, and helped me up. He apologized, as well, and it was a sincere apology, so it showed me he could own up to his mistakes and that he cares about other people’s feelings.”

“That sounds like something out of a fairy tale!” said Baby 5 in awe, squealing excitedly. “Like meeting a prince!”

You smiled softly, the memory making you warm and sad at the same time. “Yeah, I guess so.” You chuckled. It was the first time you smiled since receiving the transponder snail call from Tsuru. “I’m a lucky woman.”

You froze. Your smile fell. Not am. Were. You were a lucky woman. Rosinante is gone.

Baby 5 noticed the sudden shift in your mood. "Are you okay?”

“I found out he died last night.” you said.

“Oh.” said Baby 5.

A long silence settled over the two of you.

Baby 5 spoke up. “I don’t think Cora-san suffered.”

Your eyes widened, the title Cora-san reminding you of...

“Cora-san!” yelled Law. " You’re on fire again!”

Rosinante blinked, then looked down upon himself, and, much to nobody’s surprise, he indeed was on fire. The end of his coat was enveloped by flames, burning the black feathers.

Slowly, your husband’s eyes bulged wide open in a comedic show of surprise. The befuddled look on his face made you smile fondly; he looked so cute.

Rosinante shrieked.

“Bath!” yelled Rosinante. “Bath! Aaaaa!”

Your husband went running to the closest bathroom on the ground floor of the house, tripping twice by the time he got to the bathroom.

This was why you didn’t have vases anywhere.

Law smirked. You raised an eyebrow.

“I want to pick the cabbage from the garden and make some for Cora-san.”

You were pleasantly surprised. It was the first time Law wanted to cook something by himself since he arrived here.

You hummed, smiling. “What good timing that Rosi isn’t here to hear you ask that because his coat caught fire.”

“Happy circumstance,” said Law calmly, his poker face extremely impressive for a thirteen-year-old kid.

“Uh-huh,” you drawled dubiously, smiling knowingly at the boy. “I may be a normal citizen, but I know all your little pirate tricks, Law.”

“No you don’t,” said Law, but he didn’t sound quite sure.

You giggled. Law was adorable.

“What do you want to make for him?” you asked.

“I don’t know…” said Law.

“How about we make a tonkatsu?” you suggested. “We’ll shred the cabbage and serve it on the same plate with fried pork cutlets.”

“Can Cora-san and I cook it?” Law asked, and you were starting to realize why he wanted to get to the cabbage garden in the first place. “You’ve been making us meals since we got here, and Cora-san’s like a food vacuum.”

You chuckled at the description of your husband’s appetite.

“Sneaky,” you said, then smiled. “Alright. I’ll accept your offer of not having to cook today. I don’t mind taking a break and letting you boys in the kitchen.”

“Come on, before Cora-san comes back!” said Law, grabbing your hand with his small fingers and leading you after him.

You reminded yourself not to cheer in happiness. The fact Law had initiated the contact all on his own was a good sign he was starting to feel comfortable with you. You felt your eyes water in joy. You blinked them away, not wanting to cry during this happy moment as you followed Law (saints, he was fast considering how short he was) out of the living room, out the house, down the porch, and into the garden full of ripe vegetables.

In truth, behind all that mask of coolness and murderous tendencies, Law was a sweet, precious boy.

The two of you made it to the garden, and headed for the rows of cabbages. Law scouted the cabbages with his sharp, grey eyes, looking for the perfect one. You simply stood there, fighting not to smile at the concentration on his face while looking at cabbages of all things. Law looked so serious…

“That one,” said Law, pointing to the largest cabbage in the lines of cabbages.

“I can pull it out,” blurted Law. “Well… I think I can.”

Awww. you thought, smiling.

Law squatted down, pushed the large outer leaves to expose the stem, enveloped the cabbage with his hands, and pulled it. The cabbage moved, but didn’t leave the earth.

Law frowned. He tried again, harder now, with more force. The stem didn't budge.

Law tried again. He tugged at the cabbage hard, his forehead creasing as he strained himself. Sweat was starting to accumulate on his temples and forehead.

“Stupid… thing…” muttered Law, baring his clenched teeth, closing his eyes tight. “Come on!”

Another herculean pull, and Law fell on his back with a yelp. The cabbage had won their tug-of-war, leaving the boy panting and lying in the dirt.

“Are you okay?” you asked, reaching a hand out to him. For a moment, Law looked surprised, but then, he put his little hand in yours and let you pull him back to his feet.

“I’m fine,” said Law, catching his breath, brushing off the dirt from his knees. You patted down the back of his yellow shirt away from the dirt, as well.

You and Law looked at the cabbage. Despite it not being animate, you both shared the same sentiment. The vegetable was mocking you.

“We can get a knife -” you started.

“No!” said Law breathlessly. He gulped down. “I’m doing it bare-handed!”

“Do you want me to pull you a bit?” you asked.

“Only a little,” said Law sternly. It was very clear this was a matter of pride to him. He looked distraught, glaring down at the cabbage.

You nodded. You respected Law’s determination. He knew his own limits.

“Okay,” you said, squatting down. “Where do you want me to pull you?”

Law looked surprised for a moment at the question, but he soon covered it, and said confidently, “Around my stomach is fine.”

You put your hands around Law’s stomach, aware of how much Law was trusting you.

“We go on three,” said Law.

“Got it,” you said, voice serious.

"One..." said Law.

A long arm wrapped around your stomach.

You nearly shrieked at the massive arm wrapped around your stomach, but in the next moment, you identified it and closed your mouth, because nobody else had arms that could envelop your body fully except Rosinante.

You pulled your head up to the sky. Rosinante put his index finger on his lips in a shushing motion, smiling at you. You beamed at your husband.

“Two…”

Rosinante's hand was warm and large on your waist, his long fingertips touching the back of your spine, sending goosebumps across your entire body.

It was not the time to be thinking about your husband’s large, warm hands and how much you would like them buried between (or wrapped around) your thighs.

“Three!” yelled Law.

All three of you fell to the floor. Rosinante, of course, cushioned your fall, and you landed on his large chest, Law landing atop your knees.

You stared at the clear blue sky, breathless, your husband’s forearm resting below your chest, his long arm enveloping your entire body. You felt heat in your chest and cheeks.

“Ha!” yelled Law victoriously, lifting the large vegetable high above his head under the shining sun like a triumphant gladiator at the Dressrosa Colosseum. “The cabbage is mine!”

You heard a “pf” above your head, and as you and Law tilted your heads up to the source of the sound, Rosinante laughed heartily, the sound gentle and loving, his white teeth in full view.

“Eh? Since when was Cora-san here?” asked Law.

You giggled. “He tripped and we fell atop him.”

Law smirked. “Heh.”

“Look, Cora-san!” said Law, showing your husband the cabbage, leaves, stem, root and all, which was two times bigger than Law’s head. “I pulled out the biggest one!”

Rosinante managed out a, “Good job!” between his fits of laughter, reaching down to pat Law’s back gently.

“Let’s go cook it!” said Law excitedly. You stared at the boy, happiness blooming in your chest at the happiness on Law’s face.

Rosinante just laughed louder and harder, even as Law pulled at his fingers with his hand to get him to get a move on.

“You… you go ahead, Law. I’ll be… right behind you…” Rosinante managed.

Giggling like a little devil, Law ran back to the house with his prize.

Rosinante’s laughter eventually lessened, and you couldn’t help but admire him. He was so beautiful. His golden hair shone under the sun, his brown eyes warm, his smile bright.

You couldn’t help it. You leaned forward on his lap, straightened up, and kissed him. Rosinante didn’t mind. He welcomed the kiss, his lips moving against yours passionately, hungry for your kiss. His hands settled on your back, pulling you flush to him.

“Hurry up, Cora-san!” Law yelled from the house. “You can kiss your wife after we cook my cabbage!”

Rosinante ignored Law, slipping his tongue inside the cavern of your mouth to taste you. You moaned, your fingers burying deeper into his hair.

“Cora-san!” yelled Law again.

Rosinante growled, gave you another peck, and with much hesitation, parted from your lips. You giggled, resting your hands on his chest.

“The kid’s such a cockblocker,” mumbled Rosinante under his breath grumpily, resting his head on your shoulder with an exhausted sigh. “First he sets my coat on fire to sneak out with you, then this!”

You gasped at the word, and hissed, “Rosinante!” then slapped your husband on the chest.

Rosinante yelped.

“But he is!” argued your husband, his brown eyes soft and teary, on the verge of crying. “It’s not like he can’t cook, he’s a better cook than me! You should try his mushroom soup, it’s out of this world. You know, I’m starting to think the D. in his name isn’t for the clan of D. but for dickhea-”

You grabbed your husband’s soft cheek and pulled at it.

“Ow ow ow!”

You let go of his cheek, message made.

“You can be so oblivious,” you said. Rosinante whined, his brown eyes big and puppy-like, pouting at you. “Law wants to cook with you. He wanted to surprise you with the cabbage, that’s why he set your coat on fire.”

Rosinante blinked multiple times.

“Oh,” said Rosinante. A big, goofy smile blossomed across his face. “That’s adorable~”

“Cora-san!”

Law sounded like he was going to throw a frying pan at your husband from the window.

“Coming!” chirped Rosinante.

Rosinante smirked down at you, and your heart skipped ten beats. “Up you go, mi amor.”

You shrieked as your husband’s arm wrapped around you, picked you up off the ground, hoisting you upward, two metres high, your stomach dropping as you ascended suddenly, your arms instinctually winding around Rosinante’s thick neck as you came to a stop below his chest.

“I’m the luckiest woman in the world,” you said out loud, staring at your husband lovingly.

“You’re wrong,” said Rosinante seriously, looking at you with firm belief in his brown eyes. “I’m the lucky one. The universe might have made me unlucky in many things by making me a klutz and having Doffy as my older brother…”

“Rosi…” you murmured sadly, tears stinging at your eyes.

Rosinante’s expression changed, brightening completely. He beamed at you, handsome and beautiful. “But it gave me luck for the most important thing, so I’m happy to be clumsy and have Doffy as my older brother, cus I got lucky with you as my wife in return!”

Your throat clogged up. How did you get so lucky with such a wonderful man like Rosinante?

“I don’t think you’re unlucky,” you said, clenching the soft fabric of his pink, heart pattern dress shirt between your fingers. “After all, your clumsiness is how we met, remember?”

Rosinante chuckled, an adorable pink blush staining his cheeks as he smiled awkwardly. “That was embarrassing…”

“No,” you said lovingly, resting your head against his broad chest, listening to the thump thump of his heart below your ear. “It was wonderful. I love you, Rosi.”

Rosinante looked down at you softly, with such love your heart melted. His hands brought you closer to his chest, his long, large fingers tightening around your knees protectively.

“I love you, too.” he said, the confession soft and gentle, his warm voice settling over you, filling your body. “Thanks for marrying me.”

You giggled. “Right back at you, Commander Donquixote.”

Rosinante chuckled.

The two of you made it back into the house, where Law waited, arms crossed over his chest.

“Sorry, my love. Kid calls,” he said, and you giggled.

Rosinante kissed you again, then placed you carefully on the white couch, atop his black feather coat, and headed to the kitchen.

“Are you done shoving your tongue down (Y/N)-san’s throat?”

Rosinante squawked, and you were no better.

“How do you know about the… that?!” shrieked Rosinante.

“I saw Doflamingo do it with a lady. Diamante sent me to get him and I saw it.”

You were dying of giggles at this point.

Rosinante sighed, putting a hand over his head, feeling an incoming headache. “My brother needs to be put in the seventh level of Impel Down...”

“I thought Impel Down has six levels,” said Law.

“No, the seventh level is where the Navy keeps the horn dogs.” said Rosinante. "Or horn birds!" Rosinante let out a laugh. “Get it? Cause Doffy's a flamingo!”

Law stared at your husband with an unimpressed look, an unsaid "How are you an adult?" clearly written on his face. You snorted.

“They should put you in there too, then, Cora-san.” said Law bluntly.

It was your turn to burst out laughing. Law should be a comedian. His comedic timing and delivery are impeccable.

“That’s so mean, Law!” cried Rosinante. “I thought you wanted to cook cabbage with me?”

It was Law who stammered now, getting tongue-tied. A faint pink dusted his cheeks.

“Only if you promise not to set anything on fire!” said Law, as though he hadn’t wanted to cook with Rosinante the entire time.

“Yes, Captain!” said Rosinante, saluting.

You giggled as Law blushed further. The sweet boy looked like he was going to melt into a puddle of mushroom soup. It was absolutely adorable. But you could see Law was happy. You sent the boy a thumbs up, to which Law flushed red, squawking.

Rosinante laughed, the sound deep and soft, carefree, gentle and warm, filling the house with a homeliness you sorely missed. It filled your heart with love, embraced you in the feel of safety, making butterflies flutter free in your belly.

“Don’t worry, I’m a good cook, Law! When we moved here, I made a full lunch for my wife and took her on a picnic date, and she loved my food!”

‘I loved the dessert after the food, too.’ you thought, smiling to yourself at the memory of what happened after all the food was eaten.

“Liar!” accused Law without any bite to the word, pointing a ladle at the tall blond. “There’s no way you cooked without setting yourself on fire! And a picnic? No way!”

“It’s true,” you said from your place in the living room, speaking loudly to reach the kitchen. “It was one of our dates.”

Law looked at you all the far way from the kitchen like you’d betrayed him.

“See?” asked Rosinante cheerily, beaming at Law.

While Rosinante and Law started on the meal, you fell atop Rosinante’s black feather coat with a blissful sigh.

It smelled like him. Coal and roses. You smiled into the feathers, grabbing the coat and rolling over, wrapping yourself up in it.

You relaxed back into the plush whiteness of the couch, covering yourself in your husband’s black feather coat. You opened the Grand Line Magazine to kill some time while your husband and his ward cooked. You sighed happily, closing your eyes, all your muscles loosening, any plans for the day vaporizing away. It was nice that they were cooking today. You could take a nice little nap on the couch.

Ten minutes later, Law and Rosinante set the kitchen on fire.

Well… there goes the cabbage.

Law.

Oh saints.

Law.

“Young Master’s executions are always quick.” said Baby 5, unaware of the memories running through your mind. “So I don’t think Cora-san suffered.”

Execution. Baby 5 called it.

Executions are sentences for condemned criminals, those who have broken the law. For criminals.

Celestial Dragons execute people, too.

Doflamingo executed Rosinante for the sin of betraying him. It wasn’t that Rosinante commited a crime against the world. It was that Rosinante commited a crime against Doflamingo.

You could hear your breaths start to quicken. Your stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“Where’s the bathroom?” you asked.

“Oh, it’s right -” Baby 5 trailed off after she pointed to another white door with golden trimmings on its surface because you rushed right into the bathroom and closed the doors behind yourself.

Tears leaked out of your trembling eyes.

Rosinante.

Your lungs were on fire.

Rosinante.

Your body was in pain.

Rosinante.

Your heart was in pieces.

How were you even standing on these quivering legs of yours?

You collapsed on your knees in front of the toilet, clutching at your heaving chest. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

Were you having a panic attack?

Nausea built up in your stomach, trailing up, all the way to your throat. You gagged.

I’m gonna throw up.

That was the last thought you had before you violently threw up into the porcelain bowl of the toilet.

There goes the souffle.

You panted, eyes wide, staring in shock at the water stained with the physical materialisation of your disgust and terror. For a moment, you didn’t know where you were, or what was happening.

For a moment, you opened your mouth to form the syllables of your husband’s name, knew that Rosi was rushing to the bathroom the moment he heard you throw your guts up, you needed to tell him something was wrong, something was really, really wrong, it all hurt, he needed to get you to a hospital —

“Ro-” you choked, only to stop midway, another spasm of pain hitting your ribcage, like you aggressively pulled a muscle.

Rosi wasn't coming. That's why it hurt. Because Rosi was dead, he wasn’t here, he was dead, dead, dead —

Breathe.

Just breathe.

That’s all you need to do.

Breathe.

You rested your body on the cold tiles. It was easier this way. The floor was freezing, but it was better than the heat. Your body was on fire, your back and collar covered in sweat. You hoped you'd shiver soon. Better to shiver than sweat.

You didn't know how long you laid there, lying on the floor, stabilising your breaths, waiting for your body and organs to calm down.

When the pain in your chest fully abated, when your ribs didn't feel like they were squeezing onto your heart, when your body finally regained normal temperature and when your breaths calmed...

You exhaled in relief. You waited a few more seconds. Let it all settle down.

Then, you sat up and breathed some more. You took that time to look around the bathroom.

There was a porcelain white, flat rim clawfoot tub against the wall, its handle and feet golden.

Beside the tub was a walk-in, rectangular shower on the left, separated by a single glass door. The shower space was tiled with soft pink tiles all across from top to bottom. It had a golden shower head high above the ceiling, and a golden hand shower mounted on the handle above golden temperature valves.

It reminded you of the luxury honeymoon suite you and Rosinante stayed in on your honeymoon in Water 7.

After a few more moments, you carefully got up.

Your hands were trembling. You were panting, breathing rapidly, your stomach feeling empty and too crowded all at once. You looked at your reflection in the mirror; you’ve never looked so terrified before, never was your face dripping with perspiration brought by fear you’d been withholding the entire day, burying it deep inside you to the best of your abilities.

You are surrounded by people on the ship, but you’ve never felt so alone.

It’s just the waves. Just the waves. You take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out.

Breathe. Breathe. Just breathe.

You washed your face and mouth, wiping your face with the towel, then went back outside to Baby 5.

“Sorry, I guess I’m still gaining my sea legs,” you said lightly, forcing a small smile on your face. The last thing you wanted was for her to tell Doflamingo you got violently sick just by interacting with him and his crew for an hour.

There was a gramophone with a large golden flaring trumpet horn on the tall mahogany cabinet beside the armchair. There was a record in the gramophone already. Out of curiosity, you put the needle on the edge, letting the record play.

It was a classical piece, a solo of a piano. Of course Doflamingo likes classical music…

The piano played through the horn softly, slowly, with a sort of tune that reminded you of the peacefulness of a rainy day. A tenderness leaked out from the piano the further the sound played.

“Do you like it?”

You screamed like a banshee, at the top of your lungs, embarrassingly high and for a good length of five full seconds, jumping a full meter high, leaping away from Doflamingo’s deep voice.

It unnerved you how a man so huge could sneak up on you with such silence. Rosi had been able to do the same thing, but you could always pick up his presence because he was clumsy.

“You —” Doflamingo continued laughing, all his white, large teeth in sight, his smile stretching from ear to ear, forming dimples on his cheeks. “— jumped so high —” More deep, dark, amused laughter came from the massive man. “— like a rabbit, fufufu!”

Doflamingo laughed more, the sound loud and uproarious, his broad shoulders and wide chest shaking with the laughter, the pink feathers of his coat swaying from the movement of his body.

You scrambled for the needle and pulled it off the record, turning off the sound of the piano.

“She likes the clothes, Young Master!” said Baby 5 energetically, undoubtedly happy she was useful.

“I sure hope so, fufufu!” said Doflamingo.

“There’s some more souffles in the kitchen,” said Doflamingo secretly, in a sneaky, mischievous tone, smile wide and up to no good. Baby 5’s eyes widened. You could feel her mouth water for the desert. “How about you go snatch some before Buffalo gets his hands on them? But don’t say I told you, hm?”

“Really? Thanks, Young Master!” Baby 5 headed for the doors, waving at you. “Bye, (Y/N)-san! See you at dinner!”

“Bye,” you said weakly, even though you wanted to beg Baby 5 to stay. You didn’t want to be alone with Doflamingo.

You looked at Doflamingo. It shouldn’t be him.

You shouldn’t be looking at Doflamingo.

You should be looking at Rosi.

“Answer my question.”

There was a roughness to his voice, an impatience to it, a demand more than a suggestion.

You clenched your teeth.

Say it. Just say it.

You clenched your jaw tight.

“It’s nice,” you said, but because you were a marine’s wife, added before you could stop: “For a pirate.”

Doflamingo smiled in that unnerving way. "I suppose it is."

Doflamingo walked to the alcohol cabinet, taking off his gloves. He opened the glass doors, scanned through the wines, and pulled out a dark red bottle. He placed it on the small, round table near the armchair. On the label was written Grand Vin de Bordeaux and under it was the name of the merlot wine Châteaux Meyne.

“Châteaux Meyne. It’s my favourite,” he said, lifting the crimson bottle. “Has a great bitter after kick.”

He extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. You took it, mindful not to touch his large, long, tanned fingers. You took a sniff of it, and groaned, offering it back to him.

“It doesn’t smell like merlot,” you said, brows furrowing and nose scrunching with distaste; the scent of alcohol was strongly wafting from the bottle, overwhelmingly heavy. “Your poor liver.”

Doflamingo let out a loud laugh, taking the bottle from you. “I said the same thing to Corazon about his lungs.”

Without anything more, Doflamingo drank straight from the bottle, taking easy, smooth gulps.

After he had his fill, Doflamingo exhaled loudly, deep and pleased. You felt yourself shudder, both in surprise and shock. That was not a sound a polite man made in public. It was the sort of sound you mostly heard with Rosi. In bed. After and while Rosi cummed. Sometimes Rosi was loud when he cummed, sometimes the sounds he released when he came were grunts, moans, but sometimes, it was that.

Doflamingo can behave like a royal one moment, but then a pirate the next. A gentleman one moment, a brute the next. It confused you.

You took a large step back from him. Your legs felt light and weak. Doflamingo put the bottle back on the round coffee table beside the armchair.

“How do you like the clothes?” he asked.

“If you’d let me bring some of my clothes, you wouldn’t need to spend your money.” you said, not feeling anything at all right now. You felt empty. You didn’t care about the clothes. You’d throw them all away if it meant having Rosi back.

Doflamingo gave you a smile; goosebumps traveled up your spine. “I don’t mind. I like spending money on you.”

“There’s a great sleeping robe in there.”

You felt your hackles rise, remembering the red satin pajama set and the black lingerie bodysuit.

“First you kidnap me, now you’re telling me what to wear?” you asked.

“Fufufu! I didn’t kidnap you.” said Doflamingo, pink feathers atop his shoulders shaking with the movement of them as he chuckled. “You went with me on your own.”

Doflamingo tilted his head and smiled at you, arrogant and wicked. You glared at him, a growl building in your throat. Both of you knew that you only went because he threatened to kill everyone on the island, but the way he was spinning it like you went willingly got on your nerves.

“And, I wouldn’t dare to tell a lady what she should wear. I’m only…” He smiled again, sending goosebumps down your spine, “suggesting. It can get cold on the ship, after all.” Despite not being able to see his eyes, his gaze was no less intense through the crimson sunglasses as he gazed down on you with a sharp, unsettling focus and intent. “And pretty women like you should wear pretty things.”

The way he smiled, the way he talked… It made you squirm uncomfortably. It made you want to run away and hide. Instead, you held eye contact with him.

You wondered how much force you’d need to use your bare hands to rip his ribcage open, rip his heart out, and toss it and his body into the sea.

You hated him. You hated him, hated him, hated him so much you wanted to scream.

You needed to look at something else, anything else. A chessboard caught your eye. There were still pieces on it, as though the players stopped playing mid-game. You surveyed the pieces with your eyes. Both kings were still on the board.

“That’s my game with Law," said Doflamingo. "I’m waiting for him so we can finish it. I pasted the pieces to the board.”

“We started playing it to expand his approach to strategies. I kept winning, but Law kept coming back.” Doflamingo chuckled, the sound wicked and menacing. “Kept losing, until this game. This was the last game before Corazon took him away. We were both stuck. I was really proud, fufufu! He managed to play me to a standstill.”

“You know, I thought he was only a traitor. But not an… not an actual marine.” Doflamingo smirked. “That surprised me. I’m even more surprised he handed Law into Navy custody.” Doflamingo was too busy gesturing with his hands and watching the chessboard to notice your eyes widening. “Now that was really surprising. Law hates anything connected to the World Government, but I guess the marines were the safest option.”

Doflamingo thinks Law is with the Navy. Nice going, Rosi.

“I wonder what lies my brother put in Law’s head.”

“They weren’t lies,” you said. “Messing up your plans… that was just icing on the cake. You underestimated Rosi, and you paid for it by losing Law and the Op-Op Fruit.”

Doflamingo smiled ear to ear. “You’re really angry.”

“Yes,” you said, blood boiling in your veins. It surprised you how steam wasn’t coming out of every pore of your skin with the heat and rage in your blood. “I’m angry. Didn’t me shooting at you show you I’m angry?”

He chuckled, like it was something funny. “Yeah. It did.”

Doflamingo walked to the bed and sat down beside you. His broad frame took up a lot of the space you thought was yours. No space was yours on this ship, especially not his bed.

Doflamingo rested his forearms on his knees, letting his hands hang loosely down.

He was quiet for long moments. It didn’t look like he would speak until he did.

“I know how lonely grief can be,” he said, tone more quiet, intimate. “When I lost my mother, I was left to deal alone with my grief. Father and Rosi were useless. We barely buried Mother before I had to go scavenge for food.”

Your heart clenched painfully. Rosinante told you about his childhood only once, but once had been enough to leave you hugging him to your chest and bawling your eyes out.

“But Doffy… he wasn’t like me. I never heard him cry like he cried when mother died. But after he was done, he got up and said we should bury mother. Like he hadn’t cried at all.”

Doflamingo leaned down. He was so close. Close enough for you to see your reflection, painted crimson in the lenses of his one-way sunglasses. You looked pathetic. Absolutely weak and pathetic.

Doflamingo looked down at your left hand. You felt his gaze on the golden wedding ring on your ring finger. His forehead creased, the line of his mouth turning down. It was such a cold, heartless, disgusted look on his face it froze the blood in your veins, making your heart drop.

It was the exact same look of Celestial Dragons in Mariejois, looking down on people like the people’s mere existence insulted them. Like people were ants and pebbles in their path.

Doflamingo moved his right hand, and placed it atop yours.

You jumped in your skin.

Doflamingo’s hand felt different from Rosinante’s, even like this. Doflamingo’s palm was bigger, his fingers longer and thicker, the weight of it starkly different. His tanned palm covered your hand completely, lying atop it. His tanned fingers curled down, flexing, grabbing hold of your palm, encircling it completely from one side to another.

Your breath caught, held in your lungs, your entire body frightened. It felt like your hand was caught in a bear trap.

“I’m not going to leave you to go through it alone,” he said, voice firm and serious, his fingers squeezing your hand gently, mindful of his strength. You didn’t expect any regard from him, so it surprised you, leaving your brain scrambling to keep up with the shifts of his mood. “I know you feel alone without him, but I’m right here. From now on, I’ll take care of you. I know you don’t want to, but that’s what I’m going to do.”

You said nothing. You felt empty. It didn’t feel like there was anything inside you.

You could feel the heat of Doflamingo's hand, warming up your trembling one.

“I know healing will take time.” he whispered, his deep voice so painfully gentle and soft you realized he truly was Rosinante’s older brother. They both had such gentle voices when they were speaking quietly.

Doflamingo reached forward with his arm, wrapping it around your back. He squeezed you close to him, like a child with his favorite teddy bear that he ripped apart on his own and was promising to stitch it back to health. The merlot of his suit filled your sight, the scents of bergamot and sea salt filling your nose, and you could feel it faintly beneath your ear where your face was pressed to his chest.

The beat of his heart.

“But don’t worry, I’ll be with you every step of the way, my cute little sister-in-law.”

How dare he smile at you, how dare he look at you? How can he bring himself to smile when he killed his brother? You want to punch it off his face. But you barely reach his thigh height, and you can’t leap high enough to attempt to do such a thing. You’d probably get yourself tossed like a ragdoll into the wall for the effort, or something worse.

Get your hand off me, you pirate scum. You damn asshole. You’re no family to me.

Why? Why couldn’t you come out and say it? Were you that gutless? Were you this much of a coward? Were you all bark and no bite?

Doflamingo exhaled at the continued silence from you, sounding disappointed.

“I’m locking you inside during the night for now, so you don’t do something reckless.”

You said nothing.

“I still have some work to do, but I’ll be back to take you to dinner. Get some rest until then.”

You nodded.

“Sweet dreams,” said Doflamingo.

Doflamingo kissed you on the cheek, got off his massive bed, and left in a flutter of pink feathers.

The click of the lock brought a strange feeling of relief to the massive bedroom. You exhale breaths you’d been holding, panting out the fear you’d held trapped in your lungs. The irony of it isn’t lost on you. You feel more safe locked in than free. At least you know nobody will enter except him.

You start to breathe again. Your body trembled. Panting, shaking, you take out the small picture you always kept in your bra, hidden away.

Your lips trembled. A sob slipped out of you, a frightened little whimper following through.

You put your hand over your mouth, muffling your pathetic sobs, your entire body convulsing with the pained sounds coming out of your mouth.

You remembered the words Rosinante said to you in his vows on your wedding day.

“He said ‘just follow the compass that beats in your chest’. You are the compass that beats in my chest.”

“You are my flag.”

Without you here, I’m all alone. you thought, sobbing. Sounds of agony left your mouth, shaking you down to your bones. You hugged the pillow, wishing it was your husband instead.

Your compass was gone. You were lost at sea, without a home to go to - Rosinante was your home. Your flag was burned to cinders, ripped to shreds, six bullets in his chest, his blood on the snow.

Memories overflowed within you, and more tears streamed down your face.

Your time with Rosinante and Law felt like a dream.

“I love you!” Rosinante yelled, spinning you around in the air, the black feathers of his coat whirling around you like wings of an angel.

You kissed your angelic husband with all the love in the world.

The dream is over, and it will never be the way it was.

Rosinante is gone, Law is lost and hiding, and you’re in a nightmare now.

“I love you.”

Those were the last words you and Rosinante said to each other.

Rosinante’s “I love you.” sounds a lot like goodbye now.

Before you know it, before you can stop it — and you try, you try to stop it so hard you nearly suffocate in the attempt — a miserable, loud sob rips itself out of your chest, shaking you to your core.

It sounds wretched. It sounds pathetic. Your ribcage hurts from the sadness it holds, the sadness that needs to get out unless it kills you.

You cling to the picture of Rosinante and Law, holding their smiling faces and the beautiful colours in the clutch of your trembling fingers.

Executed.

Like Rosi was a… a… a dog. Like Rosi did something wrong, when it was Doflamingo who did everything wrong. Like Rosi’s use was done, like Rosi was deemed worthless the moment he stopped being loyal.

The tears stream out of your eyes.

Rosinante didn’t deserve to be killed like a dog.

Your hands clutch the picture, and you start to bawl aloud, letting go.

You cry. You cry so much.

Outside the room, Doflamingo isn’t smiling. His lips are set in a downward arc, shaping a deep, displeased frown as the sounds of your sobs reach his ears.

Doflamingo enjoyed watching people cry, hearing the vermin scream, sob and cry as he hurt them, played with them, terrified them, as he did whatever he wanted to them because he had the birthright to do so. It was fun.

Doflamingo didn’t like hearing you cry, not over an idiot like his little brother who couldn’t even pull through for you, who died and left you behind.

Doflamingo put his gloved hands in the pockets of his merlot suit pants, and walked out of his cabin, locking the doors behind himself. He walked down the hallway, the frown remaining on his face, the skin of his browline and forehead creasing.

The pink feathers of his coat swayed with every step, a royal mantle following its king.

You were Doflamingo’s responsibility now, and Doflamingo would make sure you were happy here. It would take a while, but eventually, you’ll get over it, and accept your new life here.

You belonged to Doflamingo the moment Rosinante took his last breath. The moment Rosinante’s heart beat its last beat, you became Doflamingo’s. He’d take better care of you than his clumsy idiot of a brother ever did.

Scene of Corazon sleeping on the bean bag with the kids was inspired by this FANART

A/N: Doflamingo really saw that merlot red satin pajama set and said “I'll buy that, that's totally normal to buy my sister-in-law who I widowed!” HE'S MANIFESTING 🤣🤣🤣 Reader is already his in his head (not romantically quite yet but he is definitely already FOND of her), Reader just needs to catch up even though Doffy is going at Gear 5 speed. Also, if nobody noticed my Gear 2 (my fav gear) reference I will sit down and cry a lot. I finally wrote the damn ring scene, I kept forgetting that Reader is actively wearing her wedding ring. Apparently, wearing it on the left hand is bcs the left arm is believed to have a vein that leads to the heart, so there's that! Doffy is about to have internal monologues about that wedding ring and how much he hates it and I will die laughing while writing it 🤣🤣

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo x y/n #one piece x reader #x reader #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #op doflamingo #one piece fanfiction #doflamingo one piece #merlot & primroses

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sl-vega · 4 months ago

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SWEET N’ SOUR ! - a scaramouche celebrity smau

˚୨୧⋆｡ synopsis: the bright lights of fame and fortune aren’t for everyone, and you’re starting to think you’re part of that majority. You just can’t seem to catch a break! Every movie you’re in goes straight to DVD, every album you drop just barely gets any streams. From child star to sub par popstar, it seems clear that the world has some kind of vendetta against you and you love to blame it on a certain rising musical sensation; Scaramouche. Thanks to your godforsaken luck you happened to go out with the wrong guy at the wrong time because he just so happened to be Scaramouche’s ex, next thing you know you wake up to truck loads of death threats, your record label dropping you, AND a whole album labelling you as the ‘other woman’! After what seemed like a never ending onslaught of straight bullying and harassment, you had long since retreated from the limelight, the only thing left from your music career being ever so occasional covers on YouTube that only your few close friends watched religiously. However, after writing a heartfelt original piece and uploading it from your humble bedroom, it goes viral! A single song has thrusted you head first into stardom once more, and face to face with the person you ruined it for you.

genre: rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, enemies/rivals to friends (?) to lovers, celebrity smau, singer smau, social media au, modern au, gn! reader

warnings: cursing, kms/kys jokes, mentions of death threats, brief slut shaming, just parasocial fans and weird behaviour towards celebs in general (much like irl unfortunately), photos are used as placeholders and are not meant to depict reader's appearance

status: ongoing!

side ships: lumine x ayaka, beidou x ningguang, kokomi x gorou

additional notes:

so um, THIS smau will get consistent updates trust me this time (no click bait)

i actually had to physically restrain myself from posting this the second I made it, so by the time the masterlist is out i'll probably have most of the first act planned out/maybe even fully planned out

inspired by the sabrina carpenter and olivia rodrigo drama!

^^ not a one to one creation ofc I obviously took some creative liberties

i'm aware this isn't really a trending topic anymore, but I thought it would make a damn good fic!

taglist is open! comment/ask to be tagged!

[🍬] means the chapter contains written content!

PLEASE let me know if I can use your username as a fan, the main reason I can't mass produce chapters is cuz I need fan names T^T

dividers by @nicodefresas and @aquazero

-> OPENING ACT

TEASER 001 // TEASER 002 // PROLOGUE

˚୨୧⋆｡ STARRING:

0.1; winx club on crack // 0.2; d1 y/n haters

ACT ONE; that's that me espresso!

01; it's brutal out here // 02; caffeine high // 03; hot cacao in hotter weather - [🍬] // 04; have you ever tried this one? // 05; you'll just have to taste me // 06; in my good graces - [🍬] // 07; bleeding me dry like a vampire // 08; not in my time zone but you wanna be // 09; it's been a cruel summer - [🍬] // 10; good 4 u // 11; dancing with the stars - [🍬] // 12; two steps back // 13; twiddling my thumbs // 14; looking at me - [🍬] // 15; in another life - [🍬] // 16; on air! // 17; don't just stand there staring honey - [🍬] // 18; floatin' through the memories // 19; short and sweet - [🍬] // 20; maybe we could've been friends

ACT TWO; girl, so confusing

21; - // 22; - // 23; - // [TBA]

ACT THREE; i'm so obsessed with your ex

[TBA]

ACT FOUR; you make me wanna make you fall in love

[TBA]

🍬 (open) taglist: @shrii-kk @freyao7 @analiee6 @thetwinkims @bellflower1257 @blvdmrcnry @bloukoup @yuan1819 @yourstrulymauki @fungaltoehehe @enrions @atlatcaheart @mywillt0live @myeomiz @adornavia @automaticpatroltragedy @scaraenthusiast1 @sesamemin @syunifu @blueberrybxba @fishii28 @a-sorrowful-tune @emvss @jiminscarmex @mwaiu @lloversss @d4y-dr3am3r @usagiarchive @idaissupercool @raytoebiter @lizzie-harper @anqelkoz @blue-moonies @lalalaloveallmydays @jinjjjia

#🍬 SWEET N' SOUR #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #scara smau #scaramouche smau #scaramouche #wanderer #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin smau #genshin x gender neutral reader

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fiastomatocheek · 1 month ago

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THREE MONTHS IN

requested: yes | req: i live for angsty marital issues bc that’s real life!! I feel like maybe the main argument in their relationship would be about him not showing up for lucy or reader. i think it’d definitely cause massive tension between the two of them.

pair: dad!luke hughes x f!reader.

genre: domestic angst, emotional hurt/comfort, slice-of-life, romance, parenthood.

warnings: postpartum exhaustion, emotional vulnerability, soft confrontation, miscommunication, no yelling or aggression, themes of loneliness and readjusting to new parenthood.

summary: three months in with a three and a half months old baby, lucy, you told yourself you were prepared for the hard parts. you told yourself you could be steady while luke was gone for practice and games when the season begin, that you didn’t need help if you just planned enough. but exhaustion has a way of creeping in, and so does silence.

fia’s note: at first, i was planning to write this with the reader experiencing a bit of postpartum depression not something too heavy, just a subtle version. but after thinking it through, i decided not to include it, since i don’t have personal experience with it, nor do i know someone close who has gone through it. out of respect, i chose to leave it out. and to any young or new mothers out there who may be dealing with postpartum depression: just a little reminder that you’re doing your best and that’s more than enough. please take care of yourself, stay gentle with your heart, and know that you’re doing amazing!! love ya!!

tagging team fia ! — @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @dancerbailey3 @mashmashi @hopefulsuitcasemoneyzonk @kell9rs @alwaysclassyeagle @nokiaholland @macka @silvenyy @bd147ms @voidvannie

fia’s masterlist | join fia’s taglist | yap & fic | mondays with fia

Angry? No, not really.

That was what you told yourself, over and over again, as the clock now past 22:30 and Luke still hadn’t walked through the door.

You weren’t mad. You were just tired. Really tired. And a little lonely. And a bit disappointed.

Lucy had gone down for the night at 19:04. You remembered the exact minute because she’d finally fallen asleep without fussing, her tiny fingers curled around yours as you sang her lullaby. It was supposed to be Luke’s song, the one he always sang, off-key but full of love. You’d sung it instead tonight. And last night. And the night before that.

You used to count down the hours until Luke came home. Not out of desperation, just out of hope. Out of the aching need to share the weight of a day. To say, ‘Here. This was heavy. Will you hold it with me for a while?’

And he used to walk in like he’d been counting down too. With tired eyes and a smile and always, always with a kiss to your forehead and a whispered, ‘Did she miss me?’

But the season had started. And lately, that kiss came later and later, if at all.

Luke finally home, shaking off his jacket with the same absent ease he always did. He looked exhausted but still, infuriatingly, beautiful.

“Hey, babe,”

He greeted, leaning down to kiss your lips. You let him. You kissed back. But it wasn’t quite the same.

“How’s Luce?” he asked, dropping his bag by the door.

“She’s asleep. She went down a little over an hour ago.”

He nodded and stretched his arms behind his back with a groan.

“That’s good. She give you a hard time?”

You shrugged. “No more than usual. Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

He didn’t notice the way your voice thinned on that last part. Or maybe he did, but he was too distracted to ask.

“Did you eat yet?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I made pasta. There’s some left if you’re hungry.”

“Nah, I grabbed dinner with Jack. We were going over some film at his place.”

And there it was. Again.

“Did you mean to tell me that?” you asked gently.

Luke blinked, eyebrows pinching in concern.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… this is the third time you’ve eaten out without saying anything. I’ve made dinner every night this week, thinking you’d be home. And I get that things come up. I really do. But a text takes ten seconds, Luke.”

You didn’t mean for it to come out this sharp and it wasn’t, well not really. It was just true.

He rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish.

“I know. I meant to. We got caught up in film and then started eating and I, forgot, I guess.”

You nodded slowly. “Can we talk?”

Now he looked alarmed. “Yeah, of.. of course. Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you said quietly. “I just need to talk. And I want you to listen.”

Luke sat down beside you, close but cautious. Like he was trying to read you before you spoke.

You took a breath, your eyes drifting to the monitor where Lucy’s tiny form shifted in her crib.

“I know what we signed up for. I know what it means to be with someone during the season. I knew it before Luce was born, and I especially knew it after.” You turned your head, looking at him.

“But knowing doesn’t make it easier. It doesn’t make it less lonely when I’m rocking her alone at 3 a.m. or warming up leftovers because I thought I’d be eating with you.”

Luke’s face fell, and he reached for your hand.

“I’m not saying you’re a bad partner, Luke. You’re an amazing dad when you’re here. But I don’t think you realize how much your presence, even just a text helps me get through the day. I’m not asking for much. I just need to feel like I’m not doing this completely alone.”

Luke lacing his fingers through yours.

“I didn’t know it felt like that. I thought as long as I made it home for bedtime, I was doing enough.”

“And some days it is enough,” you admitted.

“But other days it’s not. And I feel guilty even saying that, because I know you’re working hard, too. But I can’t be the steady one all the time. I can’t keep telling myself I’m fine when I’m not.”

Luke leaned forward, resting his forehead against your hand.

“I hate that I made you feel alone,” he said.

“You’re doing so much. More than I can even begin to understand. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve been more careful. I think I got so wrapped up in trying to keep everything running that I forgot the most important thing is being here. With you.”

Your throat tightened. “You don’t have to fix everything, Luke. I just want you to check in, to come home and want to be here, not because you have to be, but because you miss us.”

He nodded, “I do miss you,” he said, fingers tightening around yours.

“All the time. But I stopped showing it, and that’s on me. You’re not just Luce’s mom, you’re my wife, my person. And I never want you to feel like I’ve forgotten that.”

“Can we make some small changes?” you asked.

“Like… one night a week that’s just ours. And maybe tomorrow morning, you take her for her first nap so I can sleep in.”

Luke nodded immediately.

“Absolutely. Wednesdays are ours. And tomorrow, I’m on nap duty. All day, if you want.”

You smiled, tired but relieved. “You say that now. Let’s see how you do when she only wants the yellow pacifier, not the pink one.”

“I’m gonna learn,” he promised, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Because I want to. Because I love you. And I love being her dad but I need to be your partner first.”

The tears that had been threatening finally slipped free, but they weren’t from sadness anymore. Just release.

You let him hold you. Let yourself lean into his warmth and his quiet apologies and the steady beat of his heart against yours.

Maybe things wouldn’t always be perfectly balanced. But at least now, you knew you weren’t the only one carrying it.

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sleepy-steve · 11 months ago

Text

@steddieangstyaugust 04/08 // angst with a happy ending

wc: 2.3k // rating: G // cw: language // tags: post-s4, eddie lives, eddie in WITSEC, mutual pining, phone calls

divider credits @steddiecameraroll-graphics

“So, where are you now?”

Steve knew he wasn’t going to get a real answer to this question—given that Eddie wasn’t allowed to say—but it was basically tradition at this point to ask.

Eddie chuckled through the receiver. “Hmm… it’s windy. And cold as balls. Will probably start snowing soon.”

Steve raised his brows. “Snow? This early?”

Dustin, from Steve’s kitchen island, mirrored his look of interested surprise, and immediately started looking over the map laid out on the countertop. It was dotted with little red and yellow stickers and various scribblings.

“Yep,” Eddie responded, popping the P. “Pretty shit going out for a smoke, but lots of trees around, so the view is decent at least.”

“Lots of trees,” Steve repeats, with a pointed glance at Dustin, who hurriedly starts marking different spots on the map.

“How’s Henderson’s map going?” Eddie asked, knowing by the tone what they were doing.

“It’s… going?” Steve responded with a shrug. “He thinks he’s worked out the movement system.”

“I have worked out the movement system, thank you very much,” Dustin snarked, not looking up at Steve. “We can track their movement from the West Coast back up North, hence the snow.”

Eddie laughs again. “Kid’s too smart for his own good.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve grumbles, moving away from the kitchen, as far as the cord allowed him to. He drops his voice low. “How you holding up?”

“I dunno,” Eddie sighs. “Same shit, different place… Same shitty government officials with the same shitty requirements.”

Steve wants to say so much, to reassure and comfort him, but holds back. Keeps it in. “How’s Wayne doing?”

“He’s alright, doesn’t love the cold…” Steve can picture Eddie looking over at where Wayne is probably sitting nearby. “Hopefully they’ll move us somewhere warmer next.”

“D’you know when that’ll be?” A small pit of anxiety swirls in Steve’s gut. As it did any time they spoke of Eddie needing to move.

“Nah, last time was six months, but time before was only three. Hopefully this is just another quick one.” Steve can hear Eddie chewing on his lip, can picture him playing with his hair.

“Steve!” Dustin calls from behind the wall. “Ask Eddie what kind of trees are around him!”

Steve snorts. “Did you get that one?”

“Tell him I have no idea,” Eddie deadpans.

Lowering the receiver, Steve calls over his shoulder. “He doesn’t know, buddy.”

“What kind of trees…” Eddie grumbles, only slightly mocking. “I guess I can’t blame him for trying.”

“It’s how he deals.” Steve keeps his voice low. “He misses you. I miss you.” His brain scolds him—too much—and he quickly adds, “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs, and Steve’s almost sure he hears him hit his head on the wall. “I miss you too. All of you.”

It was a thing that happened often, for how infrequently Eddie was able to call. A kind of vulnerability that Steve supposed came from the fact that they couldn’t see each other, and wouldn’t for a long time yet. They’d skirt around it, but it was there, pulled taut between them, ready to break with one wrong move.

“How much longer?” Steve asks, like he doesn’t already know, like he hasn’t been counting down the days since Eddie got taken away.

Eddie exhales heavily, the sound muffling through the receiver. “Bit under three years.” Steve can hear the sad smile in his voice.

“Right.” Steve leans back against the wall, head tilted back as longing shoots through his gut. They were almost at the halfway point. There was so much he wanted to say, but he just… couldn’t. Steve would wait.

Steve’s kicking snow off his boots at his front door when he hears the phone ring from inside. He bolts in, slipping on the floor slightly in his haste.

“Hello?” he answers breathlessly.

“Hey.”

A wave of relief washes over him. “Eddie,” he breathes.

“You okay? Did I wake you up?” His tone immediately switches to one of concern.

“No, no, I just got back from the Henderson’s,” Steve says, running a hand through his hair, willing his heart to calm down now that he’s answered the call. “We wanted to call you, but… y’know.”

“Yeah…” Eddie sighs. “I wish you could.”

The silence settles, and they just listen to each other breathe for several long moments. Steve knows that Eddie is holding back, the same way he is. Saying things that are only close to what they mean. Their quiet filled with unanswered questions and things they wish they could say. Finally, Eddie breaks it.

“Are you by yourself?”

“Yeah, just me tonight,” Steve says, shrugging his jacket off. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Eddie doesn’t laugh at the joke. Steve didn’t really think it was that funny. Their constant need to skirt around the thing developing between them led to him saying some dumb stuff. He rolls his eyes at himself.

“I don’t think I could handle talking to anyone else tonight,” Eddie says, voice growing soft. “It’d be, I dunno, too much. With you, I can just… be, y’know?”

Steve is surprised—as he often is—at the honesty. He tries to make his next words sound casual, but he’s sure he fails miserably. “I’m glad I caught you then.”

“Yeah… me too.” Eddie doesn’t let the silence linger for too long this time. “So, any new Henderson theories to update me on?”

Steve snorts. “Of course.”

Letting him talk about his day at the Henderson’s, Eddie hums in the right moments, asks a few follow up questions, makes little jokes, but is otherwise quiet, seemingly content to just let Steve ramble. Happy to hear his voice. He lets Steve talk until he’s yawning too much to complete a full sentence.

“Sorry, I should let you go to sleep, it’s late.” Eddie’s tone is gentle, but like he’d rather be saying anything else.

“Nah, it’s cool, man,” Steve argues sleepily. “Don’t wanna waste your call.”

“It’s never wasted with you.”

“Eddie…” Steve doesn’t know what to say. Or rather, he knows exactly what he wants to say, but doesn’t know if he should. If he even could. He yawns again.

“Come on, bed time,” Eddie’s voice teases.

Steve feels the pull of his eyelids, begging for sleep. “Yeah, alright… Talk to you soon?” He tries to ask it casually, but again, can’t seem to manage it. Something like pleading coming through in his words.

“As soon as I can,” Eddie promises, voice tight with sincerity. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eddie.” Steve pauses. “Merry Christmas.”

He can hear the sad smile in Eddie’s voice. “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

“How much longer now?” Steve asks, already knowing the answer.

“Two and a bit years,” Eddie sighs. “Past halfway, at least.”

Even Steve can tell he’s trying to convince himself it’s a good thing, but neither of them feel any happiness about it.

It’s been almost six months since Steve heard from Eddie, much longer than any gap between calls before. Anxiety gnaws away at him, a constant presence whispering in the back of his mind and sitting like a stone in his stomach. The kids—barely even kids now, having graduated high school—were starting to show their worry. He begged and pleaded with invisible entities that they’d hear something soon.

The phone finally rings.

“Hello?” Steve answers with urgency, as he did every time it rang these days.

“Steve?” the voice croaks.

“Eddie!” Bringing a hand to his face, Steve’s eyes welled with tears. “Eddie, are you okay? What happened?”

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” Eddie reassures him, sounding anything but. “They just had us somewhere remote. We didn't have a phone.”

“What the fuck? Can they do that?” Quiet rage slips through Steve’s chest.

“Evidently, they can do whatever they want,” Eddie seethes. “Didn’t stop me from bringing hell at every check up until they moved us again.”

Steve winces at the pain in Eddie’s voice. “I’m so sorry, Eddie. It’s fucking awful, what they’re doing to you.”

“It’s bullshit!” Eddie snaps. “I’m so fucking sick of it. I can’t believe this was their solution. Like, I’m the one demonised and hunted down in Hawkins and somehow I’m the one that ends up punished for it! It’s not even a solution. All it’s doing is fucking me around.” He takes a breath. “It’s hurting me. It’s hurting us.”

To anyone else, it would sound like Eddie meant him-and-Wayne-us, or even him-and-the-entire-party-us. But Steve knew. Heard it in the way he almost whispered it. Steve wanted to match his anger, throw something, hit something. Instead, he willed it down.

“It fucking sucks,” Steve says, keeping his tone soft. “But we’re so close to the end now. It’ll be over soon.”

“I just…” Eddie’s voice lowers. Steve can picture the way the air deflates out of him. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. I wish… you could’ve come with me.”

“Me too.” Steve lets the back of his head hit the wall, eyes squeezed shut. “I miss you. So much.”

“I miss you, too.” Eddie says it like it’s painful. Like it gets caught in his throat halfway up. Like he was saying something else entirely.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know why I called when I don’t really have anything to say.” It’d been close to silent for more than five minutes before Eddie says it, voice soft. Almost timid.

The corner of Steve’s mouth lifts in a half-smile. “It’s okay. I’m just glad to hear your voice at all. To know you’re alive.”

The silence settles between them again. Comfortable, somehow. Eddie’s voice is smaller when he speaks again. “Only six months left.”

“Only six months,” Steve repeats, slightly more optimistic.

“We can… we can do it, right?” Eddie sounds so unsure. Steve can picture him playing with his hair. “It’ll be okay? When you visit?”

Steve knows what he means. He’s felt the same way for a long time. Scared that once they’re reunited, whatever this thing was—this delicate bubble of vulnerability—between them would burst. Each phone call found it wound tighter and tighter, pulled like a rubber band that would eventually reach its limit and snap, hurting both of them in the process.

“It’ll be more than okay,” Steve says, sounding more sure than he feels. He wants more than anything to be able to hold him. To reach through the phone and wrap his arms tightly around him, feel the rise and fall of his breath and listen to his heartbeat.

“Promise?” Eddie asks, and Steve can picture him chewing on his nails.

“Promise.”

“One month left,” Steve whispers in the dead of night. No one else is there, but something about the late hour makes him quiet. Or maybe it’s what he’s saying. Like a wish that needs to be kept secret, or it won’t come true.

“One month,” Eddie repeats, just as soft. “You’ll be here?”

“Wherever you are, I’ll be there,” Steve assures him.

He’s sure Eddie can feel it too. The thing between them growing more palpable, more solid, more real. The less time they have left, the stronger it becomes. It terrifies both of them.

The car stops in an urban area of Chicago. Steve glances around as he gets out of the backseat, giving a quick thanks to the government official who drove him. His heart races. This is it. Double checking the address on the small piece of paper, he looks up to the block of apartment buildings, scanning the numbers.

Steve doesn’t need to look for long. At the next building, standing in the entryway, with his curly hair pulled into a messy bun, shadow of facial hair around his jaw, face more angular than Steve remembers, is—

“Eddie…” The name comes out in a soft breath, like a prayer. His eyes well up and he quickly blinks, as though the man might disappear if Steve couldn’t see him.

Whatever was holding Eddie to the stoop of his building breaks. He jumps down, skipping the stairs completely and landing with a thud of his boots. He runs, as quick as his legs allow him, until he crashes into Steve, almost knocking them both to the ground. With his arms around Steve’s neck, Eddie whispers his name over and over. Steve pulls him tight, arms wrapped around his waist. Steve can feel Eddie’s heartbeat matching his—racing, pounding, about to jump out of his chest. They hold each other like they’ll never let go, afraid that all of it could be taken away again.

Finally, Eddie pulls back, one hand softly entangled in Steve’s hair, and looks at him, huge eyes filled with tears. “You look different,” Eddie says with a wet laugh.

Steve can’t help but smile. “In a good way?”

Eddie nods with enthusiasm, grinning despite the tears. “In a really good way.”

Their eyes are locked on each other, and Steve can’t hold back anymore. He leans in, cautiously at first, before Eddie gives him a tiny nod, leaning in to meet him halfway. Their lips finally meet, crashing together, and Steve gasps at the feeling. It’s messy and desperate and shy. It’s everything they wished they could say, given to each other in their kiss. Steve brings his hands up to hold Eddie’s face, feeling the tears spill over and wiping them away with his thumbs.

They pull back, laughing and crying. Steve kisses him again and again and again, on his lips, his cheeks, his forehead, before finally just looking, taking in every detail of Eddie’s face. The deep brown of his eyes, the thick lashes, the faint dusting of freckles across his nose. “I’m never letting you go. Never again.”

Eddie laughs again. It sounds like a sob. “Never again. You promise?”

“I promise,” Steve says reverently. “I love you, Eddie.”

Eddie’s smile grows wider, a fresh lot of tears spilling from his eyes. “I love you, too.”

#BETTER LATE THAN NEVER LMAO #i wrote most of this while sleep deprived and hungover so like. if you see a typo. no you didn't <3 #saying everything except the things they want to say my beloved #cira writes #cira writes steddieangstyaugust #steddieangstyaugust #sobbing sunday #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic

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minnies-puppydoll · 8 months ago

Text

Lucky’s KinkMas Event!

Join me for the 12 days of KinkMas with Twelve different filthy fics! 🐶

Take a look at the Menu!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~•*.•*

12/01 ~ Snow Bitten •.*❄️

summary: you beg chan to play in the snow with you, but who knew it would be that cold? but don’t worry, he’ll always be there to warm up his favorite little girl.

tags: daddy kink, caretaker roles, praise, comfort, more coming soon….

12/04 ~ Gift Wrapped~*🎁

summary: what’s the best way to spend time with your lover if you aren’t tied up? minho found a new skill to teach his viewers, and you just so happen to be the test dummy.

tags: hard dom!minho, bondage, camming, vibrator, more tags soon….

12/07 ~ The Real Present . *💐

summary: you notice how stressed out changbin has been recently about christmas planning, and you just want to show him how much you appreciate him and give his beautiful body a break.

tags: body worship, cum eating, hickeys, more tags soon….

12/09 ~ Galaxy of Lights •*.🎄

summary: your boyfriend, hyunjin, takes you on a romantic date to see the christmas lights. but, while driving, he has so many words to say to you, and so many things he wants to do.

tags: car sex, semi-public, oral fixation, confessions, more tags soon….

12/11 ~ Goodnight Moon~*🌙

summary: your boyfriend, jisung, wants to stay up till midnight to see santa, but he needs something to keep him awake and occupied till midnight.

tags: cum eating, overstimulation, ruined orgasms, more tags soon….

12/14 ~ Red Nose}~*.•🦌

summary: a harmful argument with your lover, felix, ends in a flurry of words you both didn’t mean. you make up on christmas eve of all days, and your body can’t deny how much you’ve missed him.

tags: dacryphilia, facefucking, slight angst, degredation, more tags soon….

12/16 ~ Broken Toys >•<*.🐶

summary: you’ve been planning this scene with seungmin for a while, and when a secret present is given to you, he’s fully set on making sure you enjoy your christmas eve.

tags: mean dom! seungmin, puppyplay, slapping, more tags soon….

12/18 ~ Home for Christmas .*🚪

summary: you miss jeongin so much, he’s been away from home for too long on a travel job reporting overseas. when he comes back home unexpectedly, he takes back what he’s been missing.

tags: news reporter!jeongin photo exibitionism, pent up sex, more tags soon….

12/20 ~ Elf on the Shelf~*💫

summary: bangchan decides to bring over his friend to spice up your night, and seungmin decides to show him how it’s done.

tags: seungchan doms, facefucking, kinda gay, more tags soon….

12/22 ~ Christmas Cookie*•.•🍪

summary: you’re single, so your two best friends spend the night on christmas eve. jisung brung some films, and felix made some snacks, but both felt like they had alterior motives.

tags: aphrodisiacs, porn use, kinda gay, oral sex, more tags soon….

12/24 ~ Silver and Gold >•<*☃️

summary: your dom, lee know, is just helping his maknae lose his virginity, and you happen to be the testing doll he uses.

tags: leashes, hair pulling, instructed sex, more tags soon….

12/25 ~ Winter Studies•.*🌨️

summary: hyunjin needs some anatomy references, but he can’t draw while fucking you himself..so when changbin walks in on you modeling for his pictures, he figures it’s the perfect opportunity to get some muscle references too.

tags: exibitionism, very gay, messy asf, anal sex, more tags soon….

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kyupidos · 3 months ago

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pokepoke.. i saww that requests r opeenn:3 so can i request the housewards w m!reader whos super energetic and always happy,,, ball of aunshine (oor like emu:3!!) hcs pwease

04/11/25 — twisted wonderland <3

‘is meaning smile!’ — summary. ‘housewardens with an energetic and happy m!reader!’

characters ;; housewardens -malleus , tags ;; reader is male ( masculine terms like “boyfriend” ), reader may or may not be yuu ( up to the reader ), romantic fluff

a/n ( omg…gets poked…AAH it’s been MONTHS since this ask, my apologies..i got stuck a few times and really had to look deep into my heart to come up with ideas, but here it is! i mean i wrote it a long while ago when i first received the ask but things came up…like me working on getting a job,, i also ended up cutting out malleus, i’m sorry 😭 sunshine x gllooomyyy(..??) is such a common trope but i ended up having a hard time writing him. i think my bias in characters shows in writing length anyways.. ( also hope you don’t mind me testing formats here )

riddle rosehearts —

riddle is, quite usually, strict and hot headed—of course, that’s not to say things change. especially upon meeting you, who always seems to be so lax and free spirited. not only that, but very full of energy and enthusiastic, so he noticed. for quite a bit of time, he watched you from afar, in all honesty, in almost the smallest tinge of jealousy ( not that he’ll ever say it aloud, unless you manage to get him vulnerable enough ).

actually, he quite likes your attitude, from time to time, even if it, when you first met, would give him a migraine most of the time from your fits of energy and happiness. whenever he becomes upset about any sort of rule breaking, your energy and good spirit tends to bring the peace ( not to say he doesn’t still get pissed over ace and deuce..especially ace, cough. that’s a lost cause ). and it gave him pleasure to know that despite his..attitude, especially pre book 1, you seemed to be so chipper around him despite what he put you and the others through.

and to be honest, he can’t even begin to count the amount of times you’ve happily and willingly, he notes, listened to his rants and helped him calm his temper when necessary. not condescendingly or anything, just be there both for him and with him.

for some reason, despite the fact you’ve been together for some time now, he still lets out a hushed puff of surprise when you grab his hand, sat at a gazebo hidden within the rose maze—particularly to follow rule 339, for your post-meal beverage to drink some lemon tea with two sugar cubes together. quite usually, and especially prior to his overblot, this was a solemn act. but it’s as you squeeze his hand empathetically he comes to terms with the fact that “solemn” won’t be a phrase he’ll use to describe himself any time soon, from the very moment he met you.

“i hope you’re not too upset about the mess from earlier,” you laughed it off easily, and he’ll never understand how you manage to find it in you to be so cheerful, but he’ll never be truly upset about it. “i’m sure ace and the others didn’t mean it.”

“the fact ace always ends up mentioned by name should be enough to state how much of a trouble maker he is,” riddle huffed, but in all honesty, he stopped being mad the moment you stepped in to help out—at the very least, you covered most of the blow. ace definitely owes you after that one ( or so he promises ), but it’s not like you were doing it for selfish reasons anyway. “i’ll make sure he properly atones soon later.”

you laughed at that, but he already knew you weren’t doing it out of ill will. especially since he could feel the genuinity behind your smile from miles away. “yeah, i bet,” and your hand is still gently holding onto his, he noticed. he wasn’t a fan of pda, but honestly, he really loves this kind of attention. he never says it, but his content smile tells you all you need to know. and he adores his loving boyfriend more than you’ll ever think.

leona kingscholar —

he will, truly and honest to goodness, never understand how you do it. leona would even go as far as to say that your cheerful outlook on things even blinds him and forces him to close his eyes even when he isn’t about to go to sleep. and honestly, he’ll never be able to make sense of the way you always, whether literally or figuratively, always seem to extend your hand towards him so invitingly and with such genuine warmth. when you were only getting to know each other, in fact, he almost hated it. almost.

of course, he loves and worships you now. not so blindly, of course, he knows better than to be so ignorant when it comes to having this kind of relationship with someone. but that doesn’t change the fact he has a bias towards you, and it’s obvious ( ruggie had to corner you to make sure you weren’t stealing his money. ). at the beginning, your overwhelmingly positive attitude somehow put a damper on him. maybe it was jealousy, or the fact at the time he was convinced he would never get to have you, he’ll honestly never understand or recall what his thought process at the time was.

but now he does have you, and you have him, and his dreams most definitely are far better now. since he convinced you to start being his living pillow, actually, he’s been more content in his sleep, he noticed. makes it a little harder to wake him up, you’ve heard ruggie complain..but still, you think it’s nice he feels so safe to be off guard around you, the predator he prides himself to be. ( a lot of his dreams consist of you too, but he’ll never say that aloud given said pride ).

you were having one of those nice moments right now, actually, together in his dorm room as he draped himself over you, you smiling like an idiot ( or so he thinks so on a whim, but if he were to be more poetic, he’d say you were blessing him with a smile befitting to be worn by angels ) as you combed through his hair with your hands. his hand gently holding hours, with barely any force so you could still go on with your handiwork as he gazed up at you through his half lidded eyes.

“you don’t always need to be so loud during our spell drive games,” he muttered, almost like it was mostly just something he said to pass the time. “it gets embarrassing sometimes.” a half lie, he’s actually very proud of the attention you give him and will never not use an excuse to flaunt it. the teasing remarks from malleus and his goons ( as he calls them ) during spell drive games tends to get on his nerves though.

“huh? why wouldn’t i cheer on my boyfriend?” you questioned like it was obvious, in a way that almost makes him feel silly for even asking. of course that’s how you would respond. “isn’t that a boyfriend’s duty? i’ll love you forever, you know! i’ll show you off forever, you can trust me on that, leona.”

oh, by the way, if he ever had the chance, he would finally and definitely let you know he loves you just like that and 100x more. because just so you know, if he ignores the fact you are his sun, not even the explosion of the sun would be enough to get him away from you.

after all, you make a very comfortable pillow ( cough his way of saying he loves you ).

azul ashengrotto —

point blank and simple, when he first met you he assumed your cheerfulness and kind “act” ( he can’t believe someone would be so genuine with him ) was a ruse to extort something, anything, out of him. but it never happened. he was convinced you were playing the long game, and i’ll tell you, it took him a while to finally adjust to the fact that you’re not kidding when you say you’d rather blow the school up with a microwave mishap than do anything like that to him. i mean..it’s a little out there and oddly specific ( he’s actually worried you might’ve actually accidentally nearly done that once ), but floyd and jade have said worse so it’s fine.

actually, no matter what, he’ll never get used to how you seem to never expect anything in return. ‘it’s stupid’, he thinks, and he even goes as far to call it idiotic, ‘how does he even survive in this school?’ it stresses him out actually, because he always considers himself indebted to you whenever you do something for him that you keep telling him he didn’t need to pay you back for. he just couldn’t seem to get it out of his head that someone would do something for him out of the pure goodness of his heart.

that’s part of how the two of you grew closer, in fact..somehow. in his need to no longer owe you, he’d offer you little things like discounts at the mostro lounge or his help in certain subjects you were struggling with free of charge. slowly, these things turned into a genuine pleasure to be around you, and a way to no longer owe you slowly became an excuse to meet with you again and be greeted with your constant energy and affection. how long is takes for him to accept this and actually confess to you ( or maybe you just confess to him if you’re impatient enough ) is another story.

however it goes, he’s thankful it happened. after all, your cheerful and high spirited attitude, which you seem to always be able to tune and adjust to when the situation needs it ( he quickly realizes the more he spends time with you that you’re also much more perceptive of social interactions than he first gave you credit for, ) always seems to help destress him after long days of work at the mostro lounge.

“dear,” he starts carefully, “you don’t need to wait for me to finish my work like this. i suspect it may take me much longer than i initially expected it to…i’m sorry.” you perked up when he first spoke, but didn’t let him deter you. “i know i said we could go out today, but..”

you didn’t let him finish. instead, you got up carefully to hug him from behind, something he tensed at. not because he wasn’t used to your affection, he learned long ago how casual you were with it, though you understood when he didn’t want it ( albeit not often, he always seems to be vying for it ). rather, because he knows that’s how you like to tease him.

you gave him a light kiss on the cheek, one which he sighed in content at as he slowly raised one arm to hold onto yours, which still seemed to be holding him. “you think i’d just leave you by yourself knowing that?” you teased, and he hummed in response as if he already knew the answer. “plus, if that’s the case, i think i have the solution.”

he tilted his head up now to look at you in curiosity, “is that so?”

he was quite sure at first you only said it on a whim given your usual spurts of energy and unbotheredness at the unfortunate turn of events, but he quickly came to terms with it as you took a chair to sit right beside him, though you leaned against him as though the chair rests dividing the two of you never existed at all.

“i’ll just stay here with you!”

he wanted to refuse, at first. the work pile was enough that he would likely have to pull an all nighter for it, as embarrassing as it was to say, which was probably why he left that tid bit out in the first place. but as you gleamed in happiness at the idea as you usually do, so unbothered by these sorts of things as usual, he couldn’t help but be a little selfish.

“alright then, dear,” he sighed, although in a dramatized way for you to know he wasn’t truly upset by the turn of events, “stay here with me.”

kalim al-asim —

a kindred spirit, in a way, and kalim can’t help but be delighted. it’s unusual for a guy to be in night raven so casually, so merry about their way and energetic on top of that, he knows and acknowledges that. consider him a babbling idiot all you like, he knows better than that, and you’re quite sure he knows more than anything he ever lets on.

actually, he approached you first. and when i tell you, he was in for a big, but lovely surprise when you returned the favor. two people whose energy and smiles could put out a hundred stars and more. truth be told, he was a little worried at first. he’d been in love with you since the moment he laid eyes on you, but for a few days, the idea you were so kind to him only to poison him for his family lineage, or worse, stuck in the back of his mind as if the idea itself was a poison. but only just a little, because you managed to wipe those worries away so easily with your sunshine attitude.

through your enthusiastic reassurance, he’s come to learn to trust and rely on you whenever he needs it, and you, of course, do so with him too. jamil finds himself feeling like if the two of you plan another party in the next three days then he’s going to get an aneurysm. you assure him he won’t, at least any time soon, but he’s a little unconvinced when you cheer on kalim to make this party “the most exciting one yet!” ( you’ve been proclaiming about that for at least nine prior hosted parties ).

“hahah…sorry you had to get stuck with cleaning with me, [y/n]!” kalim giggled nervously, rubbing the back of his head with his free palm before reverting back to sweeping the mess left on the floor from the party a few hours prior.

as it turned out jamil had taken your word when you reassured him he wouldn’t be getting a bad headache anytime soon, and scolded you both into cleaning the aftermath. not like you minded, you’re someone who keeps your word.

“you don’t need to apologize at all kalim,” you waved him off mindlessly, not too far from him as you collected the party streamers from under the tables, a smile still on your face despite it all. “even the boring things can be fun whenever i’m with you, you know!“

“hey, you’re right!! after this, wanna go on a magic carpet ride? we can make this into a game until then!”

“kalim.. i’d be delighted!”

vil schoenheit —

vil gets typecasted as a villain too constantly. as a result, oftentimes, he ends up to be considered intimidating and hard to approach, even by his peers. that in mind, he finds it refreshing to find a soul who can be so casual and friendly around him, not taking into mind his celebrity status.

originally, his thoughts were: ‘someone such as yourself would never survive in the acting industry’. whether you’re actually interested it or not, he can’t help but initially observe you for at least a hot second as if you were a rival of his. he lets go of the thought soon though, allowing his conscience to relax the longer he spends time with you. he finds himself relaxed and pleased by your upbeat attitude.

it’s winter time—naturally, vil needs makeup to compensate for that change in temperature, no big deal. of course, things always seem to be fun whenever you decide to tag along, no? rook seemed to be busy dealing with “hunting for the winter season” or whatever anyways. you weren’t completely used to this high end kind of outside market, but that didn’t seem to stop you as you stayed beside him pointing out all the nice items you saw.

“wow…” you spoke awingly in a loud whisper, more than enough for vil to hear as you intertwined fingers, “the world of the rich and famous is totally no joke, isn’t it?!” vil never wasted an opportunity to spoil you in luxury ( though he doesn’t want you to take advantage, and you don’t, of course ), and yet you always still seemed to be caught off guard by whatever you came across.

“hm,” he hummed contentedly, “i suppose, though it’s nothing special for me.” not as though he intended to brag, it was more so fact and not any kind of attempt to put you down, and you could tell by his genuine smile at your excitement. “if there’s anything you like, i would be alright buying it for you.”

“what?! no way!” you perked up, looking around, almost overwhelmed by what you saw that interested you and had to choose from. “i’ll take you up on that, then!”

vil couldn’t help but allow himself to freely laugh in amusement, then, as he watched you scurry off to the different stalls to look around.

though, he grew to be surprised when you returned with something that, though he knew you were fond of, wasn’t exactly the type of thing you’d select out of everything you could have. now, if it was something that related to an interest the both of you shared…

“this is for the both of us!”

‘ah…of course.’

and, as he imagined, his solemn laugh away from you turned warmer once you had rejoined him and laughed alongside him.

idia shroud —

‘there’s no way he’s surviving here..’ that’s the first thing idia thinks when he first sees you. and then he quickly learned not to be fooled by you, as there’s always more to a person that meets the eye, no? even before formal introductions, he found himself entranced by you and your positive energy.

he would always feel warmer in your presence, but he could never quite tell if it was because he was envious or enraptured by your high spirits. ( of course, it wasn’t long before he found out it was the latter ). and ever since then, he can’t remember the last time his hand wasn’t so warmly clasped around yours.

you always indulged in his interests, just as much as he indulged in yours, even if he didn’t quite understand what the interests of someone completely opposite to him exactly entailed. he gets excited though, when it comes to the interests the two of you share, and he’s always ready to be there and join alongside you…so long as he can do it in the comfort of his room. he’s extremely thankful you’re not too hard on him about it, by the way.

today was one of those days he was even given the blessing of you joining him, casually laying on top of him, sitting on his lap in fact as you watched him engage in some open world rpg boss fights. you had yet to create an account to join him, as through a terrible stroke of unluck, your router was completely busted ( but don’t worry, ortho’s helping you out there ), but that didn’t deter you from joining him one way or another.

“y’know, [y/n],” he starts, and you have a feeling he’s starting one of his usual rambles when he gets in the zone during certain gaming sessions, “i know you love me..a-and, i love you! but…i was super shocked when you wanted to know what i liked, and stuff…”

every now and then he has these sorts of self deprecative rants—and you always let him know you were never one to judge, letting him express his feelings and reassuring him all the while. it was when he let out a little grunt to show he was done that you lifted your hand up to stroke his hair, him leaning into your touch, and gave him a response.

“of course, idia!” you expressed easily, like it was the most natural and correct response, subconsciously lightening his nerves as he got better at the game. “because you’re amazing…so don’t believe anyone who says otherwise!”

he felt a little bit better about himself after that. he hopes you know how much he likes you.

189 notes · View notes

cheriewoo · 9 months ago

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Damsel In Stress | Jeong Yunho & Song Mingi ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 04 : Bodyguards, Shower Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : When your bodyguards, devilishly handsome and undeniably sexy, promise you a night to remember, you take it all in stride. Whether it’s bending the rules or indulging in steamy shower sex, you’re ready to embrace the thrill, surrendering yourself completely to the experience.

Word Count : 3.9k Genre : Smut, Angst, Bodyguard Au. Pairing : Bodyguard! Yunho x F.Reader x Bodyguard! Mingi

WARNINGS : Pure smut, shower sex, double penetration, dom/sub undertones, multiple orgasms, praise, petnames ( doll and princess), playful banter and flirting, big dick agenda, mention of alchol and drug consumption.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 4 is here, and this is huge just like our handsome boys, Yunho and Mingi. :P . Hope you enjoy this ma chéries. This story contains themes related to alcohol and drug use. Reader discretion is advised.

“Yunho, ahh... keep going, please don’t stop” you cried as Yunho mercilessly pounded deep into you, his thrusts turning your brain to mush. “So good, princess, taking us so well.”

Us? Did he just say “US”?

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Mingi's deep voice purred from behind, sending a shiver down your spine. “Feels good, doesn’t it… being taken care of like this?” His words heightened the sensation of being at the mercy of your two deliciously handsome bodyguards.

As you pieced together the situation, it felt messy, thrilling, and was definitely going to be hard to explain to your daddy.

Wait… how did you end up here?

Let’s rewind a bit.

—

Your friends called you “Damsel In Distress” for being daddy’s little princess, constantly getting saved by him and your bodyguards Yunho and Mingi and being the mischievous talk of the town. Causing trouble was not something you chose to indulge in voluntarily; it was just that wherever you went, trouble followed you like a loyal dog following its master.

Coming from an opulent family didn’t help either, because people loved to pick on someone who had everything that they didn’t and couldn’t have. Taking behind your back, purposely messing up your drinks to see daddy’s little princess act crazy, and snatching your boyfriend Mingyu were a few things that you had been dealing with for the past six months. With your best friends turning their backs on you, your situation got a thousand times worse. Bullying turned into actual harassment, and this daddy’s little princess went feral.

Up until a point, you did tolerate it; you got your dead mom’s patience after all. You didn’t want anything from a woman who cheated on your S-tier, greenest of the green flag, ultra pro max gentleman daddy, but fate had a way of shoving things down your throat that you didn’t want to be associated with at all. Hence, you were a spitting image of your mom, but the good thing was you got your dad’s behavior and morals, making you the most loyal person you would ever meet.

You were more like a “Damsel In Stress” after multiple failed relationships and a damaged reputation in university. The only people you could gawk at without getting labeled as a “creep” were your handsome bodyguards, Yunho and Mingi. Tall and handsome with Greek god-ish builds, they made anything in their vicinity appear minuscule, and your 5’3” tall frame didn’t help much.

But where your height lacked, you made up for it with your attitude (short girlies for the win). The last six months were the most nightmarish months of your whole freaking life; getting addicted to substances, smoking weed, and sneaking out at late hours to attend God knows what kind of parties became your choice of escape. Your only option.

These were the only things that somehow filled the empty void, hence your daddy decided to ignore it for a while, as long as you were safely back home at dawn, and Yunho and Mingi, being the most dutiful and uptight bodyguards, made sure of it.

Tonight was different, though.

Why? Because you met this girl online, her name’s Ryujin.

You both clicked instantly, shared similar past troubles, and were freshly single, addicted to drugs. You girlies had been planning a getaway to spend a wild night out.

Ryujin found this party happening a few hours' drive from your mansion, kinda illegal with everything from dangerous drugs to premium liquor available, but promising a wild night.

You needed that.

Hence, you sneaked out again without anyone noticing, not even your bodyguards. You sneakily tranquilized their drinks, hehe, not advisable, but kinda the need of the hour.

Then how did this perfectly well-planned night take such an unexpected turn?

You were here to forget all your sorrows, so why were you lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, disgusting, your body so limp it felt like you took a thousand fucking punches, not remembering a single thing? The last thing you remembered was Ryujin crying on her knees beside you, fear calling your bodyguards. Yes, they were saved on speed dial just so you could escape out of situations like these without daddy noticing it.

But what happened with you? Did you drink too much? Ingest something so strong that it blacked you the fuck out?

A thousand questions swirled around your mind as darkness took over. You could feel yourself being picked up off the cold and dirty bathroom floor, Ryujin thanking Yunho as he offered to drop her back home, which she declined sweetly, mentioning she could drive back as she had bought her car and had almost sobered up. Fucking traitor! Why call them?!

Wait, Yunho?! What about your drugged drink? Did it not work on them? Who the fuck is carrying you? Is it Mingi? Not complaining at all; you had dreamt of moments like this.

But when—how did they know—why—what the actual motherfucking fuck is this mess?

Yeah, your intoxicated brain couldn’t handle any more, and you passed out.

When the tiniest consciousness slipped into your brain, you opened your eyes to gaze upon the glorious sight in front of you: fine-as-freaking-wine men driving you somewhere.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, even if you knew what was going to come your way. “Aren’t you both supposed to be... umm... sleeping?”

It's our job to take care of you.

“It’s our job to look out for you, doll” Mingi replied with a small smile,just the way you expected, his deep voice slightly registering in your intoxicated mind, and huh, did he just call you doll?

“Sleeping? That’s cute. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed by now, princess?” Yunho asked you, a smug look adorning his face, still not answering your question, his sexy smirk visible from the rearview mirror.

What the fuck with these nicknames?

“Guess the dosage wasn’t strong enough, huh?” Mingi chipped in, his handsome frame in the driver’s seat way too distracting for you to register whatever the fuck he said, something along the lines of dosage being strong.

Huh?! You just got caught. Is there a way out of this? Will daddy find out? Will you be punished?

“He-hehe, what dosage are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, thinking of what to say next.

“Can we not play dumb anymore, princess?” Yunho teased, giving you a look that clearly said daddy’s princess just got caught. “Sorry to disappoint you, but boys don’t take naps on the job.” That sealed the deal for you; even the freaking drug betrayed you.

Your lips formed a thin line, your mind made up that any more excuses you planned on coming up with were not going to work on them anymore. You sighed in defeat, earning a chuckle from both of them.

A piercing silence fell over the car, soon replaced by a thick tension that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, filthy thoughts flickering through your mind like a movie reel.

Was it the sexual frustration building up over the last six months, or the effects of the intoxication? You couldn’t pinpoint it.

But every time you caught Yunho's intense gaze through the rearview mirror, a jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach. His smirk never faltered, his eyes shifting between you and the road, as if he knew exactly what was running through your head.

Mingi, sitting beside him, wasn’t any less subtle. His broad hand casually rested on the steering wheel, but his eyes would drift toward you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. That small smile from earlier still lingered on his lips, making your pulse quicken. You couldn't shake the way his deep voice wrapped around that nickname, “doll”. It felt too intimate, too... dangerous.

Why were your bodyguards acting up today? Was it the aftereffects of the drug, or perhaps... they did feel some kind of way towards you?

So, it wasn’t just you after all, was it? They had been battling with the same thoughts, the same desire simmering beneath the surface. You could feel it—thick in the air, undeniable. A flush creep up your neck, only heightening the tension.

“What’s wrong, princess? Feeling a little too warm?” Yunho teased, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed the way you shifted in your seat again.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, but there was no escaping the heat radiating from both of them.

They knew exactly what they were doing to you.

As Mingi turned down a quieter street, the path leading exactly where you feared, their house, your fears were confirmed. Or perhaps, it wasn’t fear at all... but excitement for what was about to come next.

Mingi pulled the car to a stop in front of their house, your pulse quickens heart racing a million miles in equal parts anticipation and fear, as Yunho opened the door for you, his hand reaching out to help you step down. His fingers brushed against your skin, seemingly innocent, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body.

No words were exchanged as they led you inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that had been building for months. You were halfway across the living room when Mingi’s deep voice broke the silence.

“You’re trembling, doll” he murmured, stepping closer. His proximity was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. “Nervous? Or is it something else?”

Before you could respond, Yunho was behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in. “You didn’t think you could drug us and just walk away, did you, princess?” His voice was low, teasing, and far too close for your mind to stay clear.

You turned to face him, heart hammering, but the words stuck in your throat as Yunho’s eyes darkened. In one swift motion, his lips claimed yours—demanding, taking what had been simmering between you for far too long. His kiss was messy, mind-numbing, filled with hunger. A hunger you hadn’t fully realized, or maybe one you’d knowingly ignored given the forbidden nature of your relationship with them.

Before you could catch your breath, Mingi was there. His hand gently tilted your chin toward him, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “We’re not finished with you yet.” The words sent a shiver through you. And before you could process the weight of them, his mouth was on yours—slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming, like he had all the time in the world.

You were experiencing things you had once only dreamed of, especially given the state of desperation you felt a few months ago. Even though you had deliberately ignored the hints Yunho and Mingi dropped, this moment felt like a culmination of all those unspoken desires.

A wave of validation washed over you, filling your heart with satisfaction as you realized that they shared the same hunger and lust that had been simmering within you for so long.The hunger that had been building for months had finally ignited, and there was no turning back.

As Mingi continued to kiss you, Yunho decided to take over your neck, decorating it with butterfly kisses. “You taste so sweet,princess” he murmured, nipping at your skin, urging pretty moans from you that were muffled by Mingi’s skillful lips.

“Is she always this responsive?” Mingi teased, pulling back slightly to glance at you, his eyes dark with desire. “We could get used to this.”

“Don’t let it go to your head” you shot back playfully, but your breath hitched as Yunho continued his trail of kisses.

Purple marks blossomed along your neck as Yunho explored further, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing you behind the ear. “You’re driving me wild,do you know that ?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We might just want to keep you like this forever.”

“Guess I found your sweet spot” Yunho smirked, oblivious to the way your body reacted as he kept kissing and nibbling that delicate area.

“Mhmm… Yunho… don’t stop” you gasped, earning a chuckle from him at the way his name rolled off your tongue. Your hands tangled in Mingi’s hair as he maintained his steamy kiss.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his voice low and husky. “Just imagine what else we can do to you, doll.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it” you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze. With a playful smirk, you added, “Have a feeling you two won’t disappoint me.”

Yunho caught your eye, his grin playful. “You have no idea how much we’ve been wanting this, do you?”

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you teased, “I might have had a hint… but now, I want a full demonstration.” It was true, tensions had always heightened between the three of you. But given the restrictions and the lack of loose moments like this, it had kept you from exploring each other,until now.

Mingi leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a show you won’t forget.”

Mingi's hands found the hem of your top, pulling it up slowly. “Let me take this off for you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as the fabric slipped away, leaving your skin bare to his hungry gaze. His gaze had you wet down south, aching to be touched and devoured.

Yunho stepped closer, his fingers eagerly working on your jeans. “You look incredible, but let’s make it even better, shall we?” he teased, his breath hot against your ear as he slid your jeans down your legs, pooling at your feet.

The cold air making contact with you sent goosebumps all over your body, excitement coursing through you.A faint sound of water running caught your ears—was it the shower? A knowing look spread across your face. Ah, so that’s what these two had been planning.

Quite steamy, you thought, and utterly exciting.

The idea of the three of you under the shower, bodies pressed together, both your holes stuffed to the brim,had your arousal pooling, your core dripping with desire.

“Figured it out already, doll?” Mingi chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes as he glanced toward the bathroom where the water was running.

“Then, princess shall not wait any longer” Yunho added, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Both of them took your hands, guiding you toward the bathroom. As you stood under the shower, water cascaded down your body, the heat mixing with your own as you surrendered to the moment.

Yunho's hands cupped your breasts, his touch igniting a fire within you. He played with your now-hard nipples as your head rested back on his shoulder, eyes closed, a disheveled mess with your lips caught between your teeth.

Mingi knelt before you, his gaze intense as he admired how the water glistened on your skin. “You’re absolutely breathtaking” he said, his fingers teasingly grazing your inner thighs before moving higher.

Your breath hitched as Mingi's fingers finally found your dripping core, sliding through your folds that left you gasping. “How does that feel, princess?” he asked, looking up at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Unbelievably good” you breathed, leaning back against Yunho, who continued to play with your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples, making them harden under his touch.

Mingi’s fingers skillfully explored your slick heat, swirling and teasing, collecting soft moans from your lips. “Cum for us, doll. Just enjoy this moment with us” he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction as he picked up the pace, each back-and-forth movement driving you wild.

Yunho's hands moved from your breasts to your waist, steadying you as Mingi's fingers worked their magic. The tension within you built, a delicious pressure threatening to consume you.

Yunho’s breath was hot against your ear as he kissed the delicate spot, quickening your heart and serving as the final blow that made everything come undone.

With a soft gasp, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, losing yourself completely in the moment as you released onto Mingi’s fingers.

Your head slumped against Yunho’s shoulder as he held you, and you watched Mingi lick your juices off his chubby fingers before shoving them into Yunho's mouth. The sight in front of you sent butterflies racing in your stomach; watching them taste your slick made your core throb with a desperate need for attention.

Without wasting any more time, Yunho twisted your body toward him, his lips glistening with remnants of your juices as hot water cascaded down his face. His hands pulled you closer, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist, a sense of urgency consuming you. In one swift motion, he thrust his hard, aching length into you, filling you completely.

“God, you feel incredible, baby” Yunho groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he relished the sensation of you around him, your walls hugging him providing a warm yet tempting sensation. He was hungry, yet he held back, waiting for Mingi to join.

Taking the cue, Mingi closed the distance, positioning himself behind you. “You ready for more, doll?” he asked, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded eagerly, excitement pooling in your stomach.

With a firm grip on your hips, Mingi pressed himself against you, slowly pushing his cock inside your ass. “You’re so tight” he grunted, a mix of pleasure and disbelief in his voice as he slid deeper. “You’re going to feel amazing filled up by both of us.”

The sensation was overwhelming; the hot water, both your holes occupied, and the intoxicating feeling of being completely claimed by both men. You let out a breathy moan, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as you adjusted to the sensation.

“I’ve never felt anything like this. Boys, please move.” you gasped but responded to them, your body trembling with delight.

Yunho tightened his grip on you, his thrusts steady and deep, matching Mingi's rhythm as he began to move behind you. “Just relax and let us take care of you” Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath hot and inviting. “You’re going to love this.”

“We’ve got you, princess” Mingi encouraged, his hands finding your waist, guiding your movements as they both took you to new heights of pleasure. “Close your eyes and let loose.”

You obeyed as their pace quickened, drawing a chorus of moans from your lips, leaving you breathless. The overwhelming sensation, mixed with the heat of the water, only heightened your arousal. The boys were just as breathless, groaning with each hard thrust. Mingi's lips parted in a string of "oh my gods" as he pushed deeper inside you. You could feel him on the edge, just like your own release was building to its peak.

Suddenly, Yunho slowed his thrusts, savoring the moment as he realized both you and Mingi were hovering on the edge. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “We want to feel every single second .”

Mingi chuckled, pressing his chest against your back, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “Let’s take our time” he whispered hotly against your ear. “We want to enjoy you completely.”

The change in pace drove you wild, and you squirmed between them, desperate for more. “Please… don’t stop” you gasped, the need overwhelming you.

“Such a needy little thing” Yunho murmured with a wicked grin. “Just the way we like it.” With that, he picked up the pace again, thrusting into you harder, while Mingi added more pressure from behind, teasing and heightening the electric pleasure surging through you.

The urgency in your core built up rapidly. “I’m so close” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as everything else faded away, only the two of them and the pleasure they gave you remained.

“I can’t hold on much longer, gonna cum.” you gasped, your body trembling between them. An urged need to release and break apart washed over you pushing you more and more and over the edge.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, their thrusts becoming more conssitent and delicious. “Cum for us, doll.” Mingi urged, his sultry voice in your ear. “We’re right there with you.”

With a final deep thrust from Yunho and Mingi's teasing dicks, pleasure crashed over you like a huge wave. A loud moan escaped your lips as your release hit, sending shock waves through your entire body. “Holy fuck”

Feeling you clench around him, Yunho groaned, his grip tightening. Mingi pressed against you from behind, both men overwhelmed by your powerful release had their cocks twitching for a release.

“Damn, you feel incredible” Yunho breathed, thrusting erratically. “We’re right behind you, princess.”

With one last powerful thrust, Yunho filled you, followed by Mingi, their warmth mingling as waves of pleasure crashed over you once more.

As they pulled out, you leaned back against Yunho, feeling blissfully satisfied. “Best shower ever” you murmured, wrapped in the warmth of their embrace

Truly that was the best shower and the best sex ever.

Yunho and Mingi stepped out of the shower, with Yunho carrying you. They took care of you, drying your hair and helping you get dressed before cleaning themselves up. Being taken care of like this was something you hadn’t experienced in a while, and it felt nice, you heart did a happy dance as you smiled at them, soaking their warm energy in.

Once dressed, you and Yunho settled on the living room couch, flipping through random channels on TV. Mingi soon joined, bringing refreshments, and settled on your left. The three of you cuddled on the couch, with you sandwiched between their warm, muscular bodies.

“What about my dad...?” you trailed off, the thought of explaining this to him crossing your mind as he was set to return from his business trip.

“Let’s worry about that later, yeah princess?” Yunho suggested, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

“Let’s just enjoy being together now, doll” Mingi added, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Yeah that for the future you to worry. We’ll take care of daddy, lets enjoy the present for now.

For Now, Damsel no longer in stress.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

382 notes · View notes

delulujuls · 1 year ago

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loverboy | ln4

hi, i finally wrote second part for tinder buddies! im not sure if i like it though, i've got an idea but i dont know how it went.

anyway please enjoy and lets cross our fingers for japan win for this loverboy!

i will let myself tag everyone who wanted to be tagged in part 2: @mickslover @formula-1-04 @petitefaeries @bayleewatts67 @xjval @kapsylia @teamnovalak @slutforln4 @shimmermotorsport @myownwritings @maydiamondsinthenightsky @mikadojohnny

summary: when it turned out that Lando is more of a loverboy than a fuckboy and there is no point in trusting appearances because they tend to be misleading

warnings: none

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N looked as if she had seen a ghost. She clenched her phone in her hand and glanced at the spot where Lando had been just a moment ago. Yes, that Lando, with whom she had a brief interview a few seconds ago, Lando Norris, who drives for McLaren, her Tinder buddy with whom she's been exchanging explicit messages for over a month now, and who knows more about her body seen through the camera than any guy she's had the chance to flirt with in person.

The girl only snapped out of it when the camera operator she had been filming with nudged her shoulder.

"The team bosses' interview is about to start, I saved us seats."

She quickly nodded and tucked the microphone into her bag, throwing it over her shoulder. She glanced at the McLaren garage one last time before heading to the conference. After all, she was here because she had duties.

As she took her place among the crowd of other journalists, instead of focusing on coming up with questions, she picked up her phone again. It immediately unlocked to her conversation with Lando, and she hastily replied to his latest, unambiguous proposition.

"I'm a bit busy at the moment. If you want, we can meet later in the evening."

Lando was scrolling through Instagram when a new message popped up in his notifications. He smiled and swiped it open, reading and replying quickly.

"i'd be honored. give me the address of the hotel you're at. and be ready by 9."

The girl smiled and sent him the address along with a note that she couldn't wait, wishing him good luck in qualifying.

Lando felt his cheeks hurting from smiling. However, he locked his phone and set it aside. He knew that if he didn't restrain himself, he would bombard the girl with messages. He was so excited about the whole situation, the overflow of emotions building up in him could easily secure him pole position that day, which he sincerely hoped for. He wanted to present himself in the best possible way, knowing that on that day, one special pair of eyes would be watching him.

Y/N was also excited, but as time passed, she began to feel stressed. Not because she was going on a date with Lando Norris, but because she was about to confront someone whom she may have known inside out but in reality had no idea who he truly was. She was slightly apprehensive about whether Lando would turn out to be as he portrayed himself on his Tinder profile. There, she dealt with a confident guy who knew how to flirt, who knew how to make a girl's heart beat faster. With a guy who focused only on fun and ultimately only on it. Someone who knew what he wanted and sooner or later would get it, one way or another. Now, knowing her conversation partner's identity, Y/N was certain that their online acquaintance might only exist in that dimension. And just as she had realized before, somewhere in the back of her mind lived a lonely spark, nourished by the hope that something more serious might come out of this online acquaintance. Lando was out of her reach, that was more than certain. However, she didn't plan to dwell on negative thoughts because she had a chance for a pleasant evening ahead of her. She had no intention of ruining it.

Qualifying didn't come as a surprise to anyone, as Max was to start the race from pole position the next day, with Charles in second place. But to everyone's positive surprise, Lando closed the top three, giving McLaren the opportunity to start from third position. Y/N planned to text him and congratulate him on his excellent performance, but she decided to wait until evening with her congratulations. She didn't want to come off as pushy or, worse, as a psycho.

Lando, indeed, was pleased with himself, but not as much as if he had managed to secure pole position. Y/N could notice this on one of the monitors, where post-qualifying interviews with drivers conducted by David Coulthard were taking place.

"Great performance, Lando, you were on Ferrari's heels today!"

"We did well today, not just me, but Oscar and the whole team as well. I hoped for more, but you know, the appetite comes with eating," he replied, but despite the smile on his flushed face, he actually seemed not very pleased with the result. Y/N was packing her things when she observed post-qualifying talks out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to perform particularly well today, but unfortunately it didn't work out. I hope tomorrow will be better."

The girl sighed and glanced at the contents of her bag, looking at her phone lying at the bottom. She took it out and unlocked it, entering their conversation. She wanted to send him a selfie, smiling and holding up four fingers with a note congratulating him on the result, but she thought it might be a bit silly. So, she quickly wrote an alternative.

"Speaking of appetite, I hope you're looking forward to dinner more positively than to your third starting place. In my opinion, you did great today x"

When Lando finally had the chance to reach for his phone and saw the message from the girl, he sincerely hoped to see her face again. He hovwever, was pleased with her congratulations.

"i can't wait for tonight. and I hope tomorrow we'll have better reasons to celebrate"

Y/N smiled to herself, throwing her bag over her shoulder and heading with the cameraman to the media zone to have the opportunity to talk to some of the drivers or team principals. She replied quickly.

"We?"

"tomorrow I'd also like to invite you to dinner. because i'm afraid tonight may not be enough for us"

The girl felt herself blushing, so she quickly put her phone in her pocket. She didn't manage to run into Lando in the media zone again, but she had the opportunity to gather some more good material. As the drivers began to return to their garages and the paddock slowly began to empty, Y/N and the cameraman also decided to return to the hotel. The girl was absolutely not in the mood to deal with the footage recorded that day, so she was immensely grateful when her coworker offered to spend the rest of the day on preliminary editing and assured her that she didn't have to worry about anything. Y/N breathed a sigh of relief, as in her current pre-date euphoria, she wouldn't be able to create anything suitable for publication. When the girl returned to her hotel room, she decided to take a long bath. Sitting in the tub, her phone lying nearby vibrated again.

"actually, would you mind if i pick you up at 8?"

Y/N smiled when she read his message. She glanced at her watch. She still had 3 hours before leaving, so she should manage without any trouble.

"Why, have you already missed me?"

Lando snorted to himself as he read her message. He would be lying if he said he hadn't. He wanted to see her again as soon as possible.

"if i'm being honest, i would like to be sitting with you at dinner already"

Y/N also smiled. It was cute and completely unlike the image Lando had built and which she had in her head.

"I guess I shouldn't torture you that much. I'll try to be ready by 7."

Lando smiled and squeezed his phone in his hand. Now he couldn't wait for the meeting even more.

"see you then, darling"

The girl blushed when he affectionately called her that. She set aside her phone and immersed herself in the hot water, but even that couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

At the agreed time, both of them were ready. When the girl stepped out of the hotel, she didn't even need to look around, as she easily noticed Lando leaning against his impressive car. He held a bouquet of white flowers in his hand and smiled as soon as he saw her. He walked a little towards her, but he had no idea how to greet her. Offer her his hand? Hug her? What would be most appropriate? He didn't want to make a fool of himself.

"Hi, good to see you," he said, unable to take his eyes off her. He bit his lip, but still couldn't stop smiling. "You look stunning."

"You too, but I'm sure you already know that," she replied, looking into his eyes. They were sparkling, brightening up his already joyful face. Even though he was wearing a dark shirt and dark jeans, his hair was slightly disheveled, and she could already smell his cologne almost on the stairs, Lando at that moment looked adorable, like an elated child.

"Maybe so, but it's always nice to hear it from someone like you," he replied, extending the flowers towards her. "Here, these are for you. And I hope I didn't make a mistake and accidentally buy you flowers you hate."

The girl chuckled softly and shook her head, taking the flowers from him and smelling them.

"No, absolutely not. I love white flowers, and these are beautiful. Thank you."

"Phew, thank god," he theatrically let out a sigh of relief "Glad I started off on the right foot."

"I rather doubt you don't know how to behave around girls," she retorted, following him as he opened the car door for her.

"Well, I'm afraid you might be surprised," he replied, helping her into the car and closing the door behind her.

Lando chose a very pleasant restaurant, located not far from the hotel where the girl was staying. The place was cozy and seemed expensive, but it manifested in a modest way, without any tackiness or artificial wealth. He reserved a table in the corner of the room, so they could expect a bit of privacy. Before taking his seat at the table, he pulled out the chair for the girl. She tried her best to remain composed, but the smile never left her face. This meeting and this whole situation was more than crazy.

"I hope I picked a good place," he said, sitting across from her. "I've never been to these restaurants before, so today's choice was largely based on Google reviews."

He admitted, glancing at her uncertainly. But seeing her smile, he smiled too.

"It's very nice here. Your choice didn't disappoint."

"Second victory in twenty minutes, going better than I expected," he joked, eliciting a quiet laugh from the girl. He then thought it was a good sign that she laughed at his jokes. It meant that this whole situation had potential.

Lando was genuinely stressed about this meeting. He knew well how people perceived him and what kind of guy girls thought he was, but the truth was entirely different. His hands were sweating with nerves in the car, and he prayed that the steering wheel wouldn't slip from his hands and cause some idiotic accident. Upon returning to the hotel, he spent over two hours searching for the right place to take the girl for dinner and did about twenty quizzes on what flowers he should buy her for their first date. Since he met her at the paddock, they had the opportunity to talk, and he managed to connect all the facts. He felt like either his heart would jump out of his chest or his cheeks would fall off from smiling. In reality, Lando was absolutely not who he portrayed himself to be and how he was perceived. And Y/N was slowly starting to realize that.

When the couple placed their orders and the waiter brought the vase for flowers that Lando had requested earlier, there was a moment of silence. Both were equally embarrassed, not knowing if it was because of each other or the whole situation.

"So," Lando started, rubbing his hands on his pants, "oh god, I don't even know where to begin. Should we pretend we don't know each other and this is our first meeting? Or perhaps the opposite?"

"I honestly have no idea, but I'm glad we both don't know how to behave," Y/N laughed. "But we can start over. Like it's our first date."

She smiled warmly at him. He reciprocated the smile and reached out his hand towards her.

"Lando, nice to meet you."

"Y/N, and it's also a pleasure for me, Lando."

She shook his hand. From that moment on, everything started to go smoothly. The conversation flowed smoothly, and there wasn't a single moment when there wasn't something to talk about. Lando turned out to be the complete opposite of the person she met on Tinder. He was also different from the Lando she sometimes observed in the media. He turned out to be a funny and very intelligent guy with interesting hobbies, not just those revolving around Formula 1. His big heart and incredible modesty also made it impossible not to feel sympathy towards him. Lando, on the other hand, wasn't really up for this meeting, he honestly had no idea what to expect. As it turned out, he met not only an attractive but also hardworking girl, for whom motorsport was not just a job but also a hobby. It also turned out that they had a lot in common, so after a while, the remnants of stress and uncertainty disappeared, and they began to feel in each other's company as if they had known each other for ages.

Their conversation was only interrupted by the waiter, who apologized and said that the restaurant was closing in fifteen minutes. Y/N and Lando both looked at their watches at the same time and were shocked to find that it was just before midnight, and the past five hours had flown by like fifteen minutes.

"Sure, of course, we'll ask for the check," Lando replied to the waiter, who went to tally their dinner. As soon as the girl reached for her purse, Lando looked at her meaningfully. "I hope you don't think I brought you here for you to have to pay."

"We can split the bill," she replied, looking at him and clutching her wallet. "People usually do that on first dates, right?"

"It would be a pleasure if you honored me to be a gentleman and let me pay."

Y/N laughed and shook her head.

"As you wish, Mr. Gentleman."

When he paid for their dinner, they left the restaurant together. Lando once again opened the car door for her, and their eyes met when their faces were inches apart as she passed him to take the passenger seat. When they were back at her hotel, the girl reluctantly glanced towards the entrance. She would have loved to spend time with him until the early morning.

She sighed and smiled sadly, looking at him.

"I know, me too," he replied, easily reading her thoughts. "But we'll probably bump into each other in the paddock in the morning. Purely by chance, of course, not like I'll intentionally run into you, absolutely not."

Y/N chuckled at his words.

"It was very nice spending the evening with you, Lando."

"The pleasure was all mine," he replied, smiling at her.

They sat in silence for a moment, exchanging silent glances.

"Would it be inappropriate if I kissed you now? Since we agreed that today we're starting with a clean slate?"

He asked, his gaze moving from her eyes to her lips.

"People don't usually kiss on first dates, but I feel like I've seen these lips somewhere before, and they've told me a lot of different, indecent things, so I think we can make an exception."

She replied, biting her lip. She surprised herself with her boldness, not to mention Lando, who just saw the same girl who he sometimes saw on the screen of his phone in the evenings. As soon as he got her consent, he touched her cheek without hesitation and pulled her into a long, passionate kiss.

Y/N returned the kiss, smiling into his lips.

"Have a good race tomorrow, and after tomorrow's dinner, I'll invite you for dessert."

She whispered, still centimeters away from him, when they separated after a moment. Lando unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car, circling around it, opening her door, and offering her his hand.

"I think I can fit in dessert tonight too," he replied, biting his lip and looking into her eyes. She returned the smile and handed him her hand without hesitation. It seemed that the evening was not ending for these two, on the contrary, it was just about to begin.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n

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damnfeelings09 · 5 months ago

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VALENTINE'S DAY COUNTDOWN

You're in love - Leon S. Kennedy x fem reader

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x female reader Tags: fluff, comfort, love, love, love, stablished relationship, memories, cheesy stuff. Word count: Prompt: you and Leon have been together for 10 years, yet every day still feels like the first. One day while Leon’s not home you find your old diary and find yourself reliving your love story. Notes: The tears/shivers/emotions I felt while writing this I can't compare to anything. I loved this one so much I'm totally writting one for Shadow just like this. It makes me very happy to be able to express my feelings and “relive” them even if only in this way, hopefully someday I and everyone will find a person who loves us just like in the books, until then I will keep pouring my heart in my writing.

The summer heat was present in your home. The sunlight reflected colorful flashes as they hit the window. The floor was littered with boxes, some marked with “fragile” others with “Leon stuff” but your attention was on the box with your name on it. In it you had found your childhood stuffed animal, pictures of your family, a few unused stickers and an old notebook. You recognized it perfectly, there was no way you could forget that beautiful blue notebook with green hearts that had been with you for so long. Having a diary sounded childish, but for you it was important to keep your memories somewhere safe and if you ever wanted to relive them you could do it. For more than half an hour you had been rereading all your witticisms, the stale jokes you made with yourself, the desires and goals you had set for yourself when you got to college. Almost halfway through the journal you found a sheet of paper with your name and Leon's name on it with a big heart around it. Of course you knew where that drawing was from, you had drawn it the first time you had seen Leon, turning the page you found the entry for that day:

02/02/1998

The University of Illinois is really nice! I am so excited to leave for the summer. Mom says she's not ready for me to leave home but she's secretly happy for me. We visited some stores, museums, but the best part of the trip was going to the Italian restaurant Olio e Piú. Our waiter was sooooo cute. His name is Leon Scott Kennedy, he is 21 years old and just finished the police academy, he said that being a waiter was only temporary while he was waiting for the draft to know where he would be sent. I almost fell out of my chair when I saw that on the bill was his number written. Of course I didn't waste a second and sent him a message on my way out of the restaurant. We are still here for 3 more days and he offered to show me around. I don't want to sound urgent but I think Ms. Kennedy sounds great.

You chuckled. Back then you were so love-struck and dreamy. Your younger self had so much faith in life, wanting to take it in hand, and besides, you were right about one thing, Ms. Kennedy sounded so good in you. You kept turning the pages until you found an important date, once again a heart adorned the page, this time only with Leon's name.

25/04/1998

I'm on my way to Ilinois again, I know, I know, you'll say I'm crazy, that we're going too fast because we've actually only been on 2 dates, but Leon and I text to each other every day. He understands me, laughs at my witticisms and I love his dad jokes. It may be soon but I would love for it to be him. I had to lie to my parents that I would be staying with my Aunt Sarah for the next 10 days, actually I will be staying with Leon, don't judge me, Aunt Sarah was the one who insisted on covering for me. I am very excited, Leon will pick me up at the bus station and take me to a special place. I'll tell you later how it went.

12:45 am

He asked me to be his girlfriend! There were candles, roses, strawberries and stars. I couldn't ask for anything more. I think I am in love with him.

At that moment you didn't really know what it meant to be in love, it wasn't just the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, it wasn't just the happiness of having him close to you or the excitement you felt every time you kissed him. Love was something very complicated to understand, even more to explain. It was like an invisible force that attracted you to him, altering all your senses, making you addicted to that feeling, excited, but at the same time it managed to keep the other emotions at bay, you felt protected, comfortable, whole.

11/29/1998

We had a fight. Leon told me he had to report to his new job in Raccon City, today! Today of all days. He knew how important it was to me that he come to this party with me and he didn't care. Right now he must be on his way or whatever. Idiot

06/29/2001

Leon is working. It’s almost been a year since the last time we saw each other and I don't know how long I can go on enduring it. It is unfair that all this has happened, stupid pharmaceuticals and their greed. If it wasn't for them we would be together now living in an apartment in Raccon City. I feel bad, I miss him so much, I miss his kisses and his kind smile, but I can't tell him. The last time I saw him his expression had changed, his eyes didn't look friendly anymore, they turned cold, he looked calculating, as if he was waiting for something to happen. I can't judge him, he has been through a lot, only the gods know how he is still in one piece after the massacre he lived through. I'm happy he's still with me, but I keep wondering if he's still the same Leon I fell in love with.

The Raccon City incident had changed the jovial, awkward, fun-loving Leon into a distant, apathetic, dry one. He had confided in you all that had happened, or at least a little more than the government had allowed him to say. He had cried in your shoulder lamenting for those people he had been unable to save, trying to justify his every action as self-defense. You had listened to him, wiped away his tears, stroked his back as he let it all out. You had shown him that no matter what had happened you loved him unconditionally, you had even encouraged him to take the job offered to him by the U.S. government assuring him that you would wait for him and you did.

11/11/2004

He came back. Three days ago, as I opened the door to take out the garbage, Leon was there, with his travel bag in hand and a bandage covering half of his right shoulder. I know he said he would, but part of me didn't believe it. The state he's in, gods, you don't know how I regret encouraging him take this job. Sometimes he wakes up screaming babbling about “the plagues”, when that happens he reaches for my chest, lies on me and holds his ear close to my heart, he says it calms him. I'm just glad he's back home with me, I don't know how or how long it will take but I'll help him put all his pieces back together, I love him, I can't stand seeing him like this.

When he left for spain, the fear of not knowing anything about his where abouts for almost a month was unbearable, then one day he shows up on your door. Beaten, bruised, tired, haggard and thinner than the last time you saw him, but alive, yes a few cuts and his shoulder bandaged but he was there. You couldn't help but run into his arms, he catches you in the air, and then both fell to the grass as you filled his face with kisses. The following days you took care of him, his nightmares were recurrent but your touch always managed to bring him back to the real world. The necklace you had given him before he left, a locket with his favorite picture of you and the phrase “Love, always” engraved on it, always in place, just like you did with yours, a small reminder of the love between you two.

05/06/2006

I said yes.

I can't believe it really happened. Seven years ago I dreamed it as I watched him clean the tables and today that dream came true. I know we are not perfect, I know Leon's line of work will keep him away from me more than I would like to, but I can't imagine my life with anyone else. I chose him long before I knew what would happen and even if I did back then I would do it all over again.

Leon recreated our first date, rented a cabin in Georgia, brought a blanket, a basket with candles, wine, glasses and strawberries. We sat under the stars and when I least expected it he got down on one knee in front of me, told me that I was the woman of his dreams, that he couldn't live without me even if he tried, that I was the only good thing in his crappy world, that all he thought about when he fought those B.O.W's was that he was making the world a little safer for me and that it didn't matter how many zombies he had to take down as long as he came home to me.

Of course I said yes. No matter what, he's the one.

You closed the diary, hugging it tightly, trying to push those memories into your heart again. Yes, things had been difficult, complex, sometimes the cost had been high, the tears, the anger and the loneliness had been more constant than you wanted to admit, but you wouldn't change any of it because somehow, the little piece of heaven seeing Leon's smile every time he came home, his scent enveloping your senses as he took you in his arms, was enough.

The sound of the door opening brought you back to reality.

“Hey honey, what you doing?” Leon said, putting down the bags he was carrying in his hands and walking towards you “I see someone got distracted and forgot to unpack” he laughed kissing you.

“You've no idea” you smiled intertwining your hands behind his neck, kissing him once more.

#leon kennedy imagine #leon x reader #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #valentinesdaycountdown

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jeankluv · 1 year ago

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But daddy I love him - Satoru Gojo [ch.01]

Short series

Summary: If there was a phrase that could describe you, it was; good girl. You had been a good girl all your life, following your father's orders and being as modest as possible. You had focused your entire life on being a perfect lady, one who could be a good wife in the future. This is how you had been raised and how you had been instructed. But your whole world was shaken when one warm summer morning, your eyes met the bold, defiant and sharp gaze of a young man with white hair.

Tags of the series: +18, female!reader, set in 1700s-1800s, loss of virginity, misogyny language and thinking, oral sex, fingering, innocent oc, unsafe sex, vaginal sex, manipulative, eating disorders, abusive parents, no use of y/n.

ch.01 | ch.02 | ch.03 | ch.04 | ch.05 | epilogue

Jujutsu Kaisen materialist

Note: this is going to be a short series, of around two or three chapters, it’s a way to say thank you for the 300 followers. The tags are in general for the series, in this chapter there are only suggestive language and some misogyny comments and actions, according to the time that is set. Oc and Satoru are +20

words: 4k

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You were on the beach, near the house, you had gone for a walk and read a book by the seashore. The morning was warm and your blue dress moved due to the sea breeze that hit you. Placing a lock of your hair behind your ear, you looked at the immense sea before you.

You had rarely left your place of residence and even less had you crossed the sea. But this was a fervent dream that you had longed for since you had started reading stories from different places in the world.

But your parents were strict and you had a weak body to be able to make that journey. So the only thing left was to long for something that would not happen and immerse yourself in your beloved books.

You turned the page of the book you had brought with you and continued reading. It was a romantic book, one of those that made butterflies flutter in your stomach with just words written on a piece of paper. You had always wondered if it really happened, if when you were in love with someone those butterflies appeared and fluttered.

You had never fallen in love, but you had always longed for it. You knew that when the time came, you would be married to someone, but the mere idea of marrying someone, with whom you could never feel those butterflies or any kind of affection, terrified you.

You were terrified of the idea of ending up like your parents and raising your children in a loveless home, like you had.

“It’s the book good, angel?” A deep voice spoke in front of you.

Resting the book against your chest, you looked up, meeting a face you didn't know. His gaze was sharp and even a little arrogant. You stayed watching him, while his gaze continued to rest on you and you felt like he was somehow undressing you with his eyes. You held the book tighter to your chest and drew your legs up a little.

“Oh don’t be afraid princess. I don’t bite, unless you want me to.” You felt your face heat up at his words.

“Who are you?” You murmured.

“Satoru.” He said, giving a bite to the apple on his hand. “What are you reading angel?” He pointed to the book.

You hesitated, unsure if you should keep talking with that unkown man. “I think I should leave.” You said getting up carefully.

The man whose name was Satoru cleared his throat. "Come on angel, don't tell me that my presence scared you."

“I would rather be alone sir.” You whispered. “Now I will take my leave.” You said turning around and moving fast across the beach.

You could still feel his gaze on you, never leaving you, not until you disappeared from his sight. Walking across the dirt road that connected your house to the beach, you looked back to make sure the man wasn't following you. Your breathing was labored and your heart was beating rapidly when you reached the door. Taking another breath through your nostrils, you straightened your back and put on the best of your smiles as you entered the house.

"My lady." One of the household maids approached you. “Her mother wants to see her.”

"Something happened?" You bowed your head.

“No, miss, I just want to talk to you about the dinner that will be held tonight.”

“Oh, yeah okay.” You nodded.

Still clutching the book to your chest, you walked through the house. You were not the wealthiest in the county, but your father had a good fortune and from time to time he held parties, in a desperate attempt to get one of the rich men to notice his daughter and thus marry her.

That night you would once again have to endure the lustful gazes of men three times your age, while you made excuses not to commit to them. But time was fleeting and his excuses were slowly running out.

You knocked on the door and heard your mother telling you to enter.

“Mother.” You bowed your head. “I heard you called me.”

“Yes.” She said. “Tonight as you know there will be a party in our house.” You nodded. “I want you to stay away from one of our guests.”

“Stay away? Wouldn't that be rude?”

“No. That man is no good news.” She stood up and walked to the window. “It doesn’t matter how wealthy he is, he is no good for our family.” Then she turned around and walked towards you. “So please my beautiful daughter, don’t you dare approach that man.” A shiver ran through your body when you saw your mother's threatening gaze and you nodded with fear.

“May I ask, what’s his name mother?” You said, still frightened.

“It's Duke Satoru Gojo. I heard he is good looking but besides that, there is nothing good about him.”

Satoru

That was the name of that man, wasn’t it?

“Is something wrong?” Your mother asked.

“No, nothing is wrong mother.” You responded feeling the nervousness in your words. “I retire to my room to start getting ready for the party.” Your mother nodded and you left the room.

You walked back to your room, thinking about the man once again. Just thinking about him sent a shiver down your spine. Mother had asked you not to approach him, but you had the feeling that he would be the one to approach you. Remembering your meeting on the beach, you wouldn't have thought he was a lord or anything like that. To tell the truth, you thought that he was one of the villagers in town who wanted to bother you, for the way he was dressed up.

He was wearing a white shirt, with the top buttons unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up. With just one glance you could see that he was well toned. A subtle blush appeared on your face as you realized what you were thinking about. You shook your head to get rid of those improper thoughts.

“My lady?” A knock on your door brought you back.

“Rose!” You smiled at your maid.

“I’m here to start your preparations for tonight’s party.” She smiled with a small nod.

“That’s perfect. Let’s begin.”

And before you realized it, you were already putting on the final touches of your makeup and the sun had already set on the horizon of the sea. Rose said goodbye to you when you headed towards the door and with a firm step you headed to the entrance where the guests were waiting and where that man would surely also be.

Going down the stairs, you stood next to your parents, to welcome the guests arriving at the party. The faces of people already familiar and new, passed by one by one. Feeling a relief in your chest when you saw that that man did not appear, you entered the party. There were hardly any people your age or people with whom you could start a conversation that you liked.

“My lady?” You turned to see the face of the man who had called you.

He was a marquis from near the capital, he was approximately 40 years old, you heard that his wife died and now he was looking for a young girl to remarry and thus give him a male heir.

Taking a step back you greeted him. "Sir." You put on the best of your smiles.

“You look absolutely beautiful, my lady.” He flattered you, bringing the glass of wine to his mouth, his face was dyed a soft red so, it was more than evident, that this was not his first glass of wine. “It's a shame no one has courted you yet.” He said taking a step forward, you took one step back.

“The right man hasn’t appeared yet, sir.” You wanted to escape that conversation as soon as possible.

“My lady, how about I invite you to my country side house and let me court you properly?” He raised his hand so you could place yours on top of it.

Your mouth went dry and your hands started to shake. “I…” You wanted to say no, but that would be nonsense and disrespectful.

“I think the lady is not very interested in an insect like you.” A deep voice spoke behind you.

A chill ran down your spine when you heard that voice. It was him.

You raised your face to see him standing behind you, with a frivolous smile looking at the marquis you were conversing with.

”Duke Satoru Gojo, excuse me. How are you? I didn’t expect to see him at this party.” The marquis who seconds ago possessed tremendous confidence was now shaking like a wet puppy.

“Pretty annoyed, because I have to see insects like you believing themselves to be something they're not.” He scratched his head and took a step forward, standing at your height. “Now disappear from my sight.” You trembled as you heard his tone and saw his murderous look.

Who was that man? Your gaze was fixed on him and you did not see the marquis flee the place in terror. When you realized you were both alone and he looked at you with those same hungry eyes with which he had looked at you that morning on the beach.

“Angel, we met each other once again.” He bowed a little. “You look even more beautiful than this morning.” He tangled one of your locks in his finger.

“Duke.” Taking a step back from him, you bowed to him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You said without looking at his eyes.

Mother told you to stay away from him, so you needed to escape from there as soon as possible.

“Oh I’m a bit disappointed that you won’t look at me.” You heard him chuckling. “You are scared of me little one?”

“Sorry duke, but I must take my leave.” Trying to move away from him, he held your wrist pressing you against his torso.

“Careful angel.” He whispered into your ear, causing your legs to tremble at his warm breath. “You almost dumped into the waiter.”

And then you noticed, the waiter that was there holding the tray with more drinks. "I’m so sorry." You told the waiter.

The waiter shook his head and smiled at you, leaving your sight. "You have to be more careful angel, you could have hurt yourself." He whispered again against your ear.

“Thank you…” You whispered, releasing you from his grip and separating you from his muscular body.

Being close to him, his warmth and touch had caused a strange feeling in you.

“Angel, are you avoiding me?” His face came dangerously close to yours and your cheeks turned a subtle crimson red.

“No duke, that would be rude.” You looked down to your feet.

“So angel, how about you join me for a walk on this warm summer night.” He extended his hand towards you.

Your heart was beating strongly in your chest, doubting what you should do. Your mind wandered to the conversation with your mother, where she implored you to stay away from that man. But your heart wanted to grab that hand of his and take you for a walk that night. With your hand trembling you grabbed the duke's hand and together you left the house.

The cold of the night hit your body, causing you to shrink subtly, trying not to let your body heat escape. Instinctively you squeezed your hand, causing you to squeeze the duke's hand subtly. Realizing this, you moved your hand away and placed it against your chest, feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

The duke looked you up and down and took off his jacket, slinging it over your shoulders. You don't know if it was because of the jacket or because of the gesture, but you felt an intense heat settle on your face.

“Thank you duke.” You murmured holding into his jacket.

The duke just nodded and continued walking. Your gaze focused on his back and your mother's words echoed in your head again. You still had time to return to the party and ignore that you had been with that man there, but as before your heart decided for you and you walked following his step.

“So angel.” He spoke, taking what it looked like a cigarette out of his pocket. “Was the book you were reading good?”

“Yeah… it was.” His voice was making you feel things.

“What was it about?” He put the cigarette on his mouth and smiled at you while lighting up.

“About…” Your words didn’t want to come out of your mouth. “About a girl and boy that fell in love and escaped.”

“Oh… interesting.” He smiled. “You still don’t seem to trust me very much angel. Did someone talk bad about me?”

“No duke, not at all.” You hated to lie but you couldn’t expose your mother or else things could get complicated for your family.

“I don’t like when beautiful girls lie.” You felt his hand under your chin. “Tell me angel. What did they say about me?”

You trembled under his touch. “That… that you are no good news.”

With a crooked smile he spat the cigarette smoke away from you. “And that’s what you think, princess?” He asked you, narrowing his gaze.

“I haven’t had the opportunity to meet the duke, so I can not give an opinion.”

With a smile and with the cigarette between his teeth, he removed his hand from under your chin and walked to a stone seat overlooking the sea and sat there. You looked at his figure, muscular and large, feeling that heat in you again.

“Angel, don’t be shy and sit here with me.” He extended his hand and gestured for you to come closer. “I would like to know more about the beautiful lady of this house.”

You sat down next to him, placing your hands thighly on your knees, still nervous due to his presence.

“Ask me whatever you want, angel. I already told you.” He got near you. “I won’t bite you, unless you ask me to.”

Taking a deep breath, you spoke. “Why do you have a bad reputation?”

“Well…” He chuckled. “People think I killed my brother, to take the title and the power.”

“But those surely are just rumors right?” Your heart was beating faster and faster with each passing second.

“Maybe I did kill him, angel.” You began to feel dizzy, was he for real? “Don’t look at me like that angel, I didn’t kill him. My brother was clumsy and an idiot, he died due to his clumsiness but I loved him, at the end of the day he was my brother.” He threw the cigarette away. “But everyone started to believe that lie and to say I manipulated him because the title, instead of going to his son, it was leave it to me.” He shrugged. “Do you still think I’m bad angel?”

You shook your head. “I’m sorry you have to face those rumors.”

“How sweet of you angel.” He smiled. “That man… he wanted to marry you, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“Someone your age would be expected to be already married.” He pointed out.

“Yeah but I have a weak body, so my parents are trying to push it away.” You explained.

“Are they?” You looked at him confused. “Or are you?”

“What do you mean? I would never…”

“Princess it seems to me that you don’t want to marry any of those old insects and that you use the bland excuse of having a poor body to get away with it.” He cockily smiled. “I’m wrong?”

“That’s a gross lie, I would never lie about my body being weak.” You blurted out, embarrassed by his words.

He chuckled softly. “Okay angel, I will try to believe in your words.” He turned to face you. “But honestly, you would need a better match than those suitors your parents want to assign you. A princess like you doesn't deserve to be with those insects.”

You looked down. “I don’t have a say on what my father chooses for me. Once the moment comes, I will marry the person he chooses for me.”

“And that’s what you want, angel?” You felt his breath on your ear. “Or you want one of those love stories?”

You took a deep breath. “Those stories never come true, I’m destined to marry someone I won’t love, but you know.” You smiled looking at him. “Maybe with time love can happen.”

“Or maybe it never happens and you are unhappy for the rest of your life.” He said with those eyes all over you.

“Why are you telling me these things duke? Isn't it a bit rude to be talking like that to a lady?” You said.

“Is it?” He tilted. “I don’t know angel.” He stood up and you followed him with your gaze. “So you say you will marry anyone your father chooses. Interesting.” He smirked and watching that smirk, it made your body tremble.

You watched as he took a pocket watch out of his pocket and how he looked at it. “Duke…” You called him. “Why did you come to the party?” It was a question you have been wanting to ask since your mother informed you he was coming. “I don’t want to sound rude or anything, but the travel from your residence to here is quite long.”

He put the watch back in his pocket and smiled at you. “Just wanted to see with my own eyes how beautiful the lady of the house was or if the rumors were all fake.” He held your hand and brought it to his lips. “And the rumors were not wrong.” He said planting a kiss on your knuckles.

Your legs shook as the duke sank his teeth into the fabric of your gloves and gently began to remove it. But the real weakness came when he ran his tongue between your fingers while his piercing eyes were fixed on you.

An immense heat was established in the lower area of your abdomen and as much as you wanted to remove your hand from its touch, the pleasant sensation it was causing in you, prevented it.

“I will keep this glove with me, angel.” He kissed the glove and put it in his pocket. “We will see each other again soon, angel.”

And you watched him walk away, disappearing in the darkness of the night. You stayed on the bench for a few minutes, thinking about what just happened and feeling a new sensation on your body that you could not quite understand.

Standing back up you walked back to the house, getting welcomed by the noise of the people speaking, singing and dancing.

“Where were you?” Your mother appeared. “And whose jacket is that?” She raised your voice.

“I was outside and a…”

“Outside on your own?” She held your arm.

“Mother, you’re hurting me…” You whispered.

“Don’t tell me you were being a slut in our garden?” She asked you.

“What? Mother no, I was just taking fresh air.” You felt how your eyes got wet. “Please mother.”

“Agh.” She let your arm go. “Come with me, your father is going to introduce you to someone.” She turned around and walked.

You followed her in silence and with your head low, still feeling scared for your mother’s tone and angry look on her face. When you looked back up, you saw your father talking with a man, an unknown man for you. He looked the same age as your parents and was laughing with your father while smoking and drinking.

“Oh!” Your father said. “Look Marquis Harrison, this is my one and only daughter.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you sir.” You bowed your head.

“You have a really beautiful daughter.” The man spoke looking at your father.

“Yeah.” Your father laughed. “And you know Marquis Harrison, she is still unmarried and in the perfect age to to conceive.”

You felt your pulse accelerate and your breathing shorten, while you listened to your father speak. You knew where that conversation was going and you didn't want it to get to that point, you didn't want to marry that man.

You felt like the corset was tightening you more and more and how it was difficult for you to breathe with each passing moment.

Duke Satoru had been right, you had been lying about having a weak body and you had been paying gold coins to your personal doctor to corroborate it. But that excuse would soon be exhausted.

“Oh it’s that right my lady?” The man spoke to you.

You noticed the vein in your neck throbbing strongly, you felt like you would faint at any moment.

“Answer to Marquis Smith.” Your mother, angrily whispered to you.

“I…”

“Angel.” That deep voice again. “I totally forgot about my jacket.” He approached you causing all eyes to fall on him and then on you when he was in front of you.

Your cheeks turned red as you saw his face again, as if something about him had an instant effect on you.

"What does this mean?" Your mother raises her voice.

“Oh ma'am, I'm afraid I didn't get a chance to properly introduce myself to the hosts of the party.” He turned to face your parents. “I am Duke Satoru Gojo, thank you for inviting me to this party.” He smiled, bowing slightly and placing her hand on her chest.

“Are you the one who gave the jacket to my daughter?” Your mother asked.

“That's right ma'am, I found her daughter outside getting some air and I lent her my jacket.” He lied.

Your mother took two steps towards you and she grabbed you tightly by the arm, she didn't care that all eyes were on you. “Didn't I tell you to stay away from him, don’t tell me you are a slut who spreads her legs out there?”

“Mother please.” You felt your eyes sting.

Your father shook his head. “Our daughter is a bit poorly raised, Duke, we are sorry if something uncomfortable could have happened.” You felt like crying at that very moment, you wanted someone to get you out of there. You needed someone to do it.

The duke looked at you and then at your father. "I think the only rude people here are the hosts of this party, who dedicate themselves to humiliating their only daughter in front of all the guests, while trying to marry her to the highest bidder." The Duke's words came out like darts from his mouth and his gaze was so extremely sharp, you would swear he could cut the air.

“How dare you…” your father blurted out with his face slightly red.

“I want to marry your daughter.” The duke cut your father.

A loud gasp was heard in the room and you looked at him stunned.

“Stay away from her.” Your mother blurted, still holding your arm thighly.

He completely ignored your mother. “I will be staying in the house, so your daughter and I can meet better.” He sharply looked at your dad. “I hope this is not an impediment or I will have to contact his majesty the King.” He threatened.

"Alright." Your father stammered, looking at the ground. The duke turned and removed your mother's grip on your arm.

He lifted your chin with his hand and smiled. “Now we can see each other more, angel.”

You swallowed dryly, looking into his eyes and feeling that flame light up inside you once again.

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