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starmapz · 1 month ago

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what you know - ch14: trials || 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. minor injury. family trauma. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic attacks. mentions of difficulty eating. legal drama (likely with inaccuracies). 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 ; 23.4k.

❦ a/n ; this serves as a bit of a part 2 to the previous chapter and picks up right where the previous one left off! sorry for the wild word count LOL. i'll see you at the bottom!

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

Sitting in your passenger’s seat, Sukuna finds himself missing his old beat-up car. It clicked if you turned the axle too far and rattled at every stop light. One of the brake lights flickered but never quite went out. It was barely street legal, but it got him from one place to another.

It got his dad to appointments and hospitals. That was what mattered the most.

There was a certain sense of freedom that came along with having a car that Sukuna can’t help but feel he’s lacking now. Still, it’s not so bad being your passenger.

Although the ride is mostly silent apart from your music quietly playing, he finds himself able to sort through his thoughts while staring out the window. It’s not a particularly long ride, but it gives him the chance he needed to come to terms with the dirty game that Kaori is playing with this lawsuit.

Clearly she’ll stop at nothing to tear Sukuna’s life to shreds and take his brothers from him if it’s the last thing she does. Him and his lawyer just need to find an angle that lets them win without pulling dirty tricks like she is. The last thing Sukuna needs are more fees or even charges on his record.

He still can’t figure out Kaori’s angle, either. She isn’t on social media as far as he can tell, her name doesn’t pop up online. She doesn’t want the kids for the money obviously and he can’t wrap his head around the idea of her actually wanting her own kids.

Which is fucked.

His fingers tap on his thigh as he contemplates how this all stems back to one moment.

He wonders how different his life could have been had he not gone looking for Kaori at his grandfather’s funeral. Maybe even Choso and Yuji’s fates could have been different.

The car comes to a halt in a quaint strip mall parking lot, with only another car or two in the lot alongside yours. Sukuna blinks as he glances around. He vaguely recognizes the area from when you’d first spent time together working on your project at your apartment.

It feels like a lifetime ago now that you listened to The Eagles on vinyl while working on your research project.

Getting out of the car, you stretch your arms up above your head. “I hope it’s good,” you comment, casting him a glance as you lead the way up to a plain door with the restaurant logo across the front. Sukuna hums in agreement.

Within the small shop, there’s a cozy and homely warmth that surrounds you, the smell of broth wafting through the air. The lighting is soft and warm with slats of vertical wood separating each small booth along a wall with ivy green paint beneath the wood. A couple of decorative lanterns adorn stylized chandeliers in each booth, and a counter with stools runs along the farthest wall.

A waitress approaches you both and kindly asks whether you’d prefer a booth or the bar. Sukuna gives you a nudge to let you decide, and the waitress leads the way to a small booth in the very back of the restaurant. The atmosphere is welcoming, though the booth provides enough privacy that you can comfortably converse with one another.

“This place is so cute,” you comment as you both shrug your coats off. You’d almost forgotten how painfully overdressed you are as you look down at your white blouse, which is equally as unfortunate. You’ll just have to be careful not to spill.

Across from you, Sukuna hums as he pulls at the knot of his tie before slipping it off and unceremoniously shoving it in his suit pocket. He can’t say he particularly cares about whether it has wrinkles or not. After all, the next time he wears it will be-

Shit. He’s not sure he’s ready to think about that, yet. After all, they need the house study back before they can prepare. He has time. He can relax and enjoy his time with you.

He needs to live in the moment and try not to think about the dull future that plagues his mind. He needs to let himself relax for the first time in what feels like months.

To keep yourself from watching the painfully attractive way that Sukuna pulls at his tie and undoes the first couple of buttons on his shirt, you busy yourself with the menu. “The tonkatsu sounds good,” you comment.

Rubbing his eye with the back of his knuckle, Sukuna finally picks up the menu, holding it back far enough to see it without squinting as he searches for what you’re talking about. “Sounds good,” he agrees quietly, casting a glance over the menu to stare at you as he struggles to find common ground to chat with you. It’s not like his curt answers are helping, but the small talk you’re spouting to fill the dead air isn’t doing either of you any favors.

Clearing his throat, he sets down the menu. “I’ll just get the gyoza.”

Flipping back a page to take a look at the item on the menu, you eye him suspiciously. “Sukuna, that’s the cheapest thing on the menu and it only comes with three. Get what you want,” you urge, finding it hard to contain your smile as he glowers when you see right through him.

“Fine,” he mutters. “I’ll get the curry ramen.”

“Good,” you hum, pleased.

As both menus are set down, the waitress returns to take your order before you find yourself staring at the soy sauce left at the end of the table. The dead air sitting stagnant between you burns at your skin, lapping like flames against the balance between you. Where once there was easy conversation, a void has been left in its place. Prior to your fight, there was rarely a moment where neither of you knew what to say. Even the silence was usually warm and inviting, but the trepidation left in the wake of uncertainty here doesn’t speak to what once was.

In an effort to fill the silence, Sukuna mutters out a question before he has a chance to think.

“How’s the conspiracy theorist prof been?”

Mild amusement pulls at the corner of your lips. “We had a whole class where we discussed the death of Edgar Allen Poe,” you chuckle as you lean over the table.

Blowing a breath of air out of his nose in a wry laugh, Sukuna leans his chin on his hand, his elbow bent over the table. “What’d she land on?”

“Rabies,” you shrug.

He hums. “More plausible than some of her other theories.”

“I still think it’s more likely to be-”

“Alcoholism.”

“- alcoholism.”

Sukuna’s lips quirk up at the corners as familiarity finally finds its place back within the void, filling it out just a little bit. You giggle as he finishes your sentence in the same moment that you do. “It’s the only cause that has any footing!” You insist happily, beginning to go over the ways that you claim it ‘just makes sense’.

Sukuna’s muscles relax as he listens to you, chiming in occasionally to offer his opinion or add in something his dad had once mentioned on the subject. His tongue glides across his lower lip as he watches the way your lips move as you speak, your eyes crinkling at the corner each time you giggle. He’s only pulled from his stupor when the food arrives.

A large bowl with chopsticks and a spoon is placed in front of each of you, the steam of the warm broth billowing in the air between you. Your mouth waters at the smell alone as you thank the waitress and pick up the chopsticks. Sukuna follows suit, taking a bite of some noodles.

“Everything you hoped for?” He gruffs between bites.

“Um-” you hesitate, “yeah, it’s good!”

“But?”

“It’s a bit salty,” you pout.

“It’s ramen.”

Your brow furrows, playfully offended at his dry tone, as though you don’t know that. “It’s saltier than I usually get, is what I mean,” you retort, raising your brow playfully.

His eyes flicker between your bowls before he pushes his towards you. “Try mine,” he insists.

Your lips purse, giving in without complaint. His food has a bit more of a kick to it and considerably less salt, but the flavor is downright divine. Your brow raises, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that you like it more.

Smirking, Sukuna pulls your bowl towards him, exchanging the dishes. “Keep it.”

“What? Are you sure? I really don’t-”

Sukuna takes a bite of your ramen and nods.

Your hands hesitate in the air, still not quite sure what to make of the switch. Sukuna’s never been one to particularly care what he’s eating, but this strikes you as just plain sweet. “Really, it wasn’t that salty-”

“Princess,” Sukuna sets his chopsticks down, finishing his bite of noodles, “eat your damn food.”

You shoot him one last hesitant glance before relenting. Your brow knits together, a shy smile finding its way to your lips. “Thanks,” you murmur as your cheeks heat up. Surely from the heat of the soup.

Surely.

Before you can insist on swapping food again or something else Sukuna would consider foolish, he brings up a new topic, something that’s been nagging at him since he realized how much of a dumbass he’s been, and continues to be.

“How’s Toji?”

He’d seen and heard from Uraume fairly frequently, though he continued to keep them in the dark about the lawsuit. Every day that goes by, thoughts consume him about whether or not that’s the right option, and every day he struggles to find a reason why he continues to keep it a secret from them.

The truth is that he’s a coward. He can’t bring himself to tell them because it’s been so long that he fears they’ll find a reason to walk out of his life. Though his feelings surrounding Uraume differ greatly from those that involve you, he’s not sure how well he could manage without them either. He’s so deep in the hole he’s dug for himself with this lawsuit that he’s not sure he could blame them if they blew up at him for his spineless decision. Hell, he’d let Uraume dig the hole deeper for him and bury him alive if they so pleased.

Maybe Uraume and Toji could even tap their shovels together in a ‘cheers’ of sorts with the amount of secrets Sukuna’s kept from them both.

“He’s okay,” you shrug. “He asked me about you.”

Sukuna pauses, noodles dangling from his chopsticks as though he didn’t expect that in your reply.

“He was pretty upset,” you continue, hoping to share enough to help them mend their friendship while respecting Toji’s boundaries. Though you’ve grown closer to Sukuna’s childhood friend over the past couple of months, he’s definitely more of Satoru’s friend. You certainly don’t know him well enough to be confident recounting his exact words to Sukuna.

Setting his chopsticks back in the bowl, Sukuna stares down at his scattered reflection on the surface of the soup. “Shit,” he mutters simply, letting the silence linger.

Finishing up your bite, you tilt your head. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why didn’t you tell him? You two were best friends, weren’t you?”

Sukuna leans back in his booth, crossing his arms over his chest. The shoulders of his suit jacket crease as the sleeves pull taut and accentuate his muscles. “Dunno. We just didn’t talk about shit like that, and…” he shrugs, finding your gaze with no definitive reasoning to offer.

You frown, Toji’s reaction coming to mind when you’d parroted that exact phrase to him a couple of months ago. ‘That was his excuse?’ Over the course of two months, you’d thought maybe Sukuna’s response might change just as the man himself has. “Don’t you think he would have wanted to know?”

“‘Course he would’ve,” Sukuna agrees, shrugging. “I guess I just didn’t think about it,” he shrugs again, searching for some sort of reasonable answer where there is none. He just didn’t tell Toji. He didn’t want to be around Toji and he didn’t want to talk to Toji. There’s no grand reason why, Toji never did anything to upset Sukuna. The simple fact of the matter is that Sukuna had so much on his plate, that all reason fell to the wayside. It was never Toji’s fault, and had it not been Toji, it would have been someone else. Sukuna didn’t want to be around people at the time.

Sensing that you aren’t getting anywhere with this conversation, you bring up another question that’s been plaguing your mind since Sukuna brought it up at the case conference. You pray it doesn’t piss him off for one reason or another but he’s been more reasonable lately so you don’t feel like you need to step on eggshells around him as much. “Hey, Kuna? Um-” You pause, setting your chopsticks down. “Where did you find Kaori at your grandpa’s funeral?” You query, watching the way his eyes snap to you at the mere mention of the question.

His jaw clenches as he sits up, fiddling with the bottle of soy that sits between you. He stares at it like it’s done a disservice to his family, huffing as he explains in the simplest terms what had happened. “I was a kid, like fourteen or some shit. Kaori was…” he raises his hand, motioning at nothing in particular as he searches for words. “She was fine. She never really cared to be involved with my life, n’ my dad kept things pretty quiet between ‘em until she got pregnant and he proposed.”

He takes a moment, huffing at nothing in particular as he pulls his hand back from the soy sauce, his fingers curling into a fist. “Found her with her fucking-” Sukuna cuts himself off as his voice cracks, his expression hardening as anger courses through his veins at the mere thought of his step-mother. It’s been so long since he’s crossed paths with the thought of what he’d discovered that afternoon. He’d almost forgotten just how vividly his mind can still conjure that image, bringing with it the disgust and self-reproach he’d longed to forget for so many years.

You don’t hesitate for a moment to reach across the table, settling your hand over his fist the moment his distress becomes apparent. With one simple movement, you seem to dissolve the void between you. The uneasy silence tapers off as things become familiar once more.

He’s not sure he’ll ever grow accustomed to your kindness. How is he meant to convince himself that he’s allowed to be selfish, to take, when he has so little to give in return?

Yet even as guilt festers in his stomach and he scowls down at the place where your hands join, he still lets his fingers relax, flipping his hand upright to gently rub his thumb across the second joint of each of your fingers. Your skin is warm, soothing the chilling sensation of the memory.

Re-centering himself, Sukuna’s chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh. “I found her tongue-fucking my uncle in some corner,” he hisses, his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Your lips part in shock, the realization settling slowly as your stupor morphs to revulsion. Putting together his words from the case conference earlier, you blink in further surprise. “You didn’t tell your dad?”

Sukuna’s fingers glide through yours suddenly, his much larger hand finding a place around yours as he clasps your hands together, your fingers intertwined. Your gaze shoots to your entangled hands, unable to make heads or tails of the action as heat rises from the back of your neck to the tips of your ears. You can blame the soup all you want, but you know the truth.

You’re used to Sukuna seeking comfort within you, but there’s something deeper to this. Something you don’t know how to explore with the man, and something you don’t dare bring up as he’s opening up to you.

It doesn’t matter how fast your heart hammers in your chest, or the way that blood pumps loudly behind your ears. The mixed signals, the confusing push and pull that seems to go hand-in-hand with the brute across from you, none of that matters with the air heavy with the weight of a confession long kept behind bars, never shared with a soul.

Even Toji doesn’t know, of that you’re certain.

So, you swallow hard and put your focus into his expression, something akin to guilt, averting your attention away from the warmth of his hand as best as you can.

“I couldn’t,” he admits, a look of disdain clouding his vision. “Kaori was fine for the first few years that I knew her. She was a good enough mom to Cho and sometimes me when she wanted to be,” he shrugs, a bitter snarl tugging at his lips. “Funny. She had us all fooled.”

You nod slowly, just to tell Sukuna you’re listening.

“The week before my grandpa died, we had freshman year finals. I fucked up-” he breathes, rolling his eyes at his own stupidity. “Failed all four in my last semester. Wasn’t doin’ anything important, I was just bein’ a dumbass.” He shrugs, his grip on your hand tightening. “They were gonna hold me back n’ I didn’t wanna be apart from Toji or my friends, so him and I broke in.”

“To the school?”

He shoots you a look that you recognize. One that says obviously, though he keeps his mouth shut, continuing without answering your question. Now’s not exactly the time to be teasing you over what’s just your way of showing you’re listening.

“The plan was fucking stupid from the start. Thought we could change my grades without my dad or the school knowing. Dunno, I was a kid. It made sense to us back then.” He scoffs at his own ill thought-out plan. “I got arrested. Made sure Toji got away, didn’t want his family goin’ off on him so I covered for him,” he shrugs. “They had to call a guardian, so I gave ‘em Kaori’s number.”

Your head tilts and even in the midst of the heavy air, Sukuna wants to scoff at the way his blood pumps faster. “Weren’t you close to your dad? Why not call him?”

Sukuna nods slowly in acknowledgement. “We were close, yeah, but he was a teacher and I was smart, got good grades n’ shit. He was the type who didn’t really get mad, just disappointed, which was worse than whatever I thought Kaori would do.”

“What did she do?”

“Nothing,” he sighs, leaning his chin on the ball of his free hand over the table. “I never got charged, and she bribed the school into passing me, actually. It was cool of her at the time.”

Your lips purse as you listen intently. It’s a lot to take in, though you did always picture Sukuna and Toji being the type to pull a stunt like that given that you know about Sukuna’s days trying not to get caught with an incriminating can of spray paint.

“So, you didn’t tell him because she did you a favor?” You confirm with a furrowed brow. Favor or not, you’re not sure you could keep a secret like that from your parents.

But neither could Sukuna. “Fuck no,” Sukuna chuckles dryly, tensing his jaw. “I went to tell him the moment I saw her. It woulda been cruel to tell him at the funeral, but I thought it was worse to keep it from him.”

You nod intently.

“That-” His teeth are gritted as he cuts himself off, choosing his words wisely around you.

Though honestly, she’s deserving of the title he clearly wants to give her.

“She fucking blackmailed me,” he hisses. “Chased after me n’ told me she’d have the school charge me and fucking fail me,” he growls, the crease between his brows so harsh that you almost think he might give himself a headache.

Pulling his hand away from your grip, he leans back in the booth once more, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation. “The fuck was I supposed to do, fail? I was terrified of disappointing my dad,” he shrugs. “I got my shit together the next year, but christ, she fucking played me. I didn’t know how my record worked back then either, getting charged with a crime when you’re fourteen or some shit feels like the end of the damn world.”

In a rare moment of genuine vulnerability, a look of innocence settles in his eyes, fleeting. You often forget just how young Sukuna was when his life got turned sideways. Even his teenage years sent him through a turmoil you can’t begin to imagine. With all his rough edges and hardened lines, it’s easy to forget that the man in front of you has a soft inside so full of a genuine love for his family and even for life. That flame got taken from him bit by bit before he ever got the chance to nurture it, stuck quelling his own desires in order to make ends meet.

Though he pulled away from your hand, you find his foot beneath the table with yours, gently nudging it. “You didn’t tell him after she left?”

He uselessly throws his hands up in a shrug, his tired expression increasingly obvious in the warm overhead light of the ramen shop. “I didn’t have the heart to tell him. I think…” he trails off, inhaling sharply, “at some point I realized he was gonna die, and I didn’t want him to think his wife didn’t love him at the end.”

Your lips part, jaw hanging slightly ajar at the weight of his confession. His sorrow grips your stomach, twisting it as your expression falls. “I’m so sorry, Kuna.”

He eyes you for a moment, choosing not to reply.

The silence stretches on, your hand remaining where he left it on the table when he leaned back. A part of you wishes he would take it again so that you can offer him silent comfort, pushing down the lingering yearning that comes with such a tender action. His mind seems to be elsewhere though, his eyes glazed as he stares distantly at the decorated wall beside him.

Letting the moment linger, you find yourself pulling your hand back to stir your nearly forgotten soup. It’s still mildly steaming thankfully, which you’re grateful for given the cold weather. Less fortunately, your stomach wrenches at the thought of eating under the weight of Sukuna’s admission hanging heavy in the air.

“Do you think you could bring that up at the trial?” You query quietly. Although the judge had shut it down today, it does have pertinent information about Kaori’s character.

He shakes his head. “Nah, it doesn’t look good on either of us. I shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place, was just pissed,” he grumbles, scratching his jaw. With a deep sigh, he returns to his soup as well, taking small sips of the broth in an effort to not let the food go to waste, though he’s equally as uneasy as you are.

“Was she like that a lot? Blackmailing you and… stuff?” You wave your chopsticks through the air as you both pick at your food.

“Somethin’ like that. She just stopped pretending to give a shit, I guess,” he shrugs. “Wasn’t just me, either. Choso too,” he sighs, his brow tugging into a scowl. “Mother of the year,” he grumbles with a dramatic wave of his chopsticks in mock celebration.

If anything, it only leaves you with more questions about why she’d want the kids. Sukuna makes it sound like she didn’t care back then, what could have changed now? Of course, there’s the possibility that Sukuna could be wrong, but it seems unlikely given Kaori’s track record and her behavior earlier. The lies she’d told under oath at the courthouse may have slipped past the judge, but you saw through her.

The way she looked at you, as though you were a pawn in some game sends a shiver up your spine.

Nudging his foot as he sips a spoonful of broth, you catch his attention again. “Is she always so… ” You trail off, coming to the realization that you don’t know exactly how to describe the way Kaori acts.

He hums questioningly. “What, fake?” He asks, watching as you raise your spoon to your lips.

“Yeah, like…” You pause, holding your spoon out in front of you. “I don’t know, too sweet and caring?”

Sukuna scoffs, a hint of amusement skirting the edges of his tone. “Since the funeral, yeah.”

Poking the inside of your cheek in thought, you contemplate whether any details from Sukuna’s past could be used in the trial, but Kaori or her lawyer always seemed to have some well thought-out refute for every time Sukuna attempted to bring up her track record.

It’s almost strange, in a way, to think about how easily the judge seemed to decline any objections from Sukuna’s lawyer.

Nudging your foot to bring you back to the present, Sukuna gruffs out a “hey,” catching you off-guard. As your body jolts in surprise, your spoon tilts and the broth spills across the front of your painfully white blouse, the warmth seeping through the material. The squeak of shock that you let out sends concern rippling through Sukuna’s entire being like lightning.

“Shit,” he breathes, standing abruptly and offering napkins as he averts his gaze from the outline of your bra that’s now startlingly obvious. His gaze rounds the table as though in search of something that might fix the situation. “Fuck, did it burn you?”

Blinking as the initial shock passes, you shake your head. “Oh- um, no! No, it’s just warm.” And thank god for that, had you not waited a bit before eating, this likely would have been a hell of a lot worse. Reaching for the napkins Sukuna offers, you dab at the stain, chewing on your lip at how glaringly obvious it is, and even worse, how see-through your blouse is. You consider putting on your winter coat, but between the warm soup and heated building, that just might melt you.

Great.

Coming to the same conclusion that you have, Sukuna slips out of his suit jacket without thinking, wordlessly handing it over to you. Gratefully taking it from him, your cheeks heat up once more at the sight of his jacket draped over you. You can’t help but giggle at the way it absolutely dwarfs you in size. The sound of your laughter puts the man across from you at ease.

Between how painfully cute you look giggling in his suit jacket and the smile he has to physically fight off at the sight of you adorned in his clothes, Sukuna finds himself able to take a seat, leaning on his elbows with his hands clasped in front of his mouth.

He’d be lying if he said blood wasn’t flowing south too.

A thought crosses his mind. Something that he’s been running from, but he sets it aside. He shouldn’t even be considering the implications behind his heart’s pounding or the smile he finds himself chewing on his own cheek to fight off as he hides behind his hands. What he needs to focus on right now is your well-being.

At least, that’s what he’ll tell himself as he keeps running from that familiar thought. He knows it’s cowardly, but he’s not sure he’s in the right state of mind to face it.

“You alright, princess?” He asks from behind his hands, composing himself.

“Hm? Yeah, don’t worry! It wasn’t hot. Sorry I wasn’t paying attention,” you reply with a small smile, unbothered.

Your friend hums from across the table. “You have an unhealthy relationship with hot liquids.”

Your brow furrows as you hold his jacket around you to prevent the see-through patch from being visible. “Since when?” You can’t recall another time you’ve spilled around him.

“The oil,” he reminds you.

Your lips purse as you scour your memory, brow shooting up as the image of an employee passing you with a bucket of oil passes through your mind. The feeling of Sukuna’s arm effortlessly holding you off the ground sends an equal amount of heat through your cheeks as the embarrassment of the near-incident itself. “Oh yeah,” you murmur, quickly scowling to deflect his accusation. “That was so long ago!”

“Maybe,” he shrugs, no longer hiding his smirk now that he’s fallen into familiar territory with you. “Ya still needed to be rescued, though,” he pokes fun at you.

Groaning playfully, you give him a light kick to the shin under the table, causing his smirk to shift into a full-on grin as he chuckles at your expense. “You’re such a dick!” You insist.

“Mm, tell me somethin’ I don’t know.”

Rolling your eyes, you return to your ramen, careful not to spill, lest you get teased further.

Though the more you think about it as you catch glimpses of Sukuna’s mild and easy smile as he eats, maybe you wouldn’t mind making a fool of yourself if it means he’s in a good headspace. Especially given the day he’s already had, there’s satisfaction to be found in seeing Sukuna laugh.

The real Sukuna.

The one that makes your stomach flutter and your heart flip.

It hurts in a way that you’re not quite prepared for, a way that’s painfully lonely in spite of being across from the person that you never quite stopped loving.

Bittersweet, you keep the tone light as easy conversation settles between you once more. Even if you hold onto your cautious inhibitions, there’s relaxation to be found in the shared warmth. “Toji told me you used to do a lot of graffiti.”

He scoffs, amused. “Been a while, but yeah.”

“He said you used to tag all the basketball courts you hung out at.”

Humming, Sukuna nods as he slurps up a noodle. “Mhm. Courts, tunnels, n’ old trains.”

“So what did you usually tag things as? Like, your name?”

Sukuna’s content smile falters, a pale pink shade dusting his cheeks. “Somethin’ like that.”

A grin slowly spreads across your lip. “Is it embarrassing?” You ask, leaning in. He glances up at you, pointedly taking another bite to avoid your interrogation. “Come on, it can’t be that bad. You know I named myself ��Flower’ in Animal Crossing.”

His brow raises. “Weren’t you like five when you played that shit?” He retorts.

“Yeah, but…” you trail off with a shrug. “Come on, please Kuna?”

And when you tilt your head like that, your eyes gleaming like he’s a masterpiece to behold, who is he to say no?

With a drawn out sigh, he pinches the bridge of his nose. “The King,” he murmurs, keeping his eyes shut to avoid your judgement. And for good reason as you fail miserably at fighting your grin.

When you don’t reply, he finally peeks an eye open, regretting it immediately when you break, a fit of giggles taking over.

Clicking his tongue, he rolls his eyes dramatically. “It’s not that bad,” he grumbles.

“It’s not, it’s not!” You insist between giggles, coughing in an effort to cover them as he stares at you in disdain. “It’s just… so you.”

“The fuck does that mean?” He gruffs.

“Just-” you pause, covering your lips as if he won’t be able to tell you’re still struggling not to laugh. “- I don’t know! It’s just exactly what I’d expect from you.”

“Then what’s so funny about it?” He scoffs, glowering across the table.

“Kuna,” you stare at him expectantly, as though he should just know. “Come on, you were- what? Sixteen? When you came up with that, right?” You query, met with a hum of agreement. “It’s just- it’s cute!” You insist as Sukuna continues to scowl at you. “It’s just- funny to picture a little Sukuna who thought he was really cool for that.”

His brow twitches, his hardened expression cracking. Of course Sukuna thought he was cool. He couldn’t just be ‘King’ either, no, he had to be The King. He snorts at the thought, bringing a hand up to cover his face as he chuckles. Your giggles turn into a full blown outburst of laughter that’s even contagious for Sukuna as he finds himself hunched over the table at the thought of a time long past.

Your shared laughter is musical, filling the air with a fondness that’s been missing from your lives for so long you both thought it was lost. Each moment spent basking in it, you find yourself slowly letting your guard down just a little bit more.

“I wish I could have seen one of your tags,” you grin, eyes crinkling at the corners in delight. “I guess it was a long time ago though.”

His tongue runs along his lower lip, teeth digging into the flesh to stop himself from smiling and giving away his secret.

“No way.”

He stares at the wall, his cheeks now painted in a pale rose as he leans on his elbow. His hand muffles his words as he attempts to cover his smile with it. “I think there’s one that’s still there.”

“Sorry, what’s that?” You tease.

Shooting you a knowing look from his peripherals, he makes a show of huffing. “You heard me, princess.”

“Where is it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he dismisses.

“Come on, please?”

“No,” he grumbles behind his hand, turning to face you finally as if in a challenge.

“I’ll ask Choso.”

His confidence falters as the gears visibly turn in his mind. He actually can’t remember if Choso knows, but there’s a very real possibility that he does. Sukuna wasn’t exactly the model brother and Choso was there for a decent chunk of his time spray painting random alleys and trains. Choso was just happy to be there with his brother, unaware of the criminality of his older brother’s actions.

With a sigh, he drags his hand over his face in defeat. “Y’know the skate park two stops past work?”

“I think so.”

“I figured out how to tag the ceiling under the bridge, it’s probably still there.”

“Oh my god, we have to go after work sometime,” you gasp in delight.

He opens his mouth to say no, but the words die in his throat at the sight of you grinning with stars in your eyes. This is the most normal things have been with you in the past couple of months, and now you’re the one asking to hang out. Not out of pity or to help his brothers. Not for work, or school. Blowing a puff of air from his nose, he relents. “Yeah, alright. If that’s what you want,” he grumbles, though even for all his grumbling, the warm look in his eyes says otherwise.

That same warmth spreads to his chest as you beam at him with a triumphant ‘yesss!’, one hand clutching your spoon as you return to your soup while the other holds his suit jacket over yourself. It drapes over your body like a dress, it's so long. The shoulders of the jacket droop, your form nowhere near as broad as his, yet somehow you make it look intentional. As though his jacket belongs to you and it always has.

His bowl of ramen sits empty as he finds his attention drawn to you. As you finish what’s left of your soup, his mind wanders. The reality he’s been running from seems to draw closer, seeping into the edges of his mind with each passing moment.

But along with it comes a guilt that settles like stones in his stomach.

“You’re still bein’ too nice to me,” he blurts out.

When you meet his gaze with a raised brow, you shake your head. “Is that a bad thing?”

He knows it’s a rhetorical question, your kind way of telling him that you want to be nice, but self-sabotage is his closest friend. “You’ve always been too nice to me. After all the shit I pulled, you’re still-” he just shakes his head, his gaze drawn to the small remaining pool of soup at the bottom of his bowl. In the depths of the dish, he finds his reflection staring back at him once more, distorting each time either of you shuffle or knock the table.

With each distortion of his own picture, he finds himself frowning. It makes him look older, somehow. As though he’s grown weathered and worn. It’s been so long since he lost himself that each glance at a mirror serves as a reminder of the missing pieces of himself, fracturing in the ripples of the soup beneath him.

Maybe that’s why he clings so desperately to you and his brothers. You carry pieces of him that he recognizes, while he’s nothing more than a shadow of what once was.

“Kuna,” you scold lightly as you recognize the look in his eyes, giving his foot a nudge and capturing his sharp gaze. “Stop it.”

You know you don’t need to elaborate, he understands. He knows the multitude of meanings behind your words. The guilt boiling at the pit of his stomach isn’t so easily swayed, though. “Just thought you’d learned your lesson.”

You laugh lightly, humoring him. “Oh, I did,” you affirm. His brow raises, the distance in his eyes clearing just enough to find intrigue in his gaze. “If you’re a dick on purpose again, I’m not sticking around to be treated like that,” you smirk, your tone too warm for the words that slip past your lips.

Amused at both your choice of words and your confidence, Sukuna snorts. “Good,” he hums, shoving his bowl aside in hopes that his dreary thoughts will go along with it. “Keep it that way. The confidence looks good on you, princess.” No matter the circumstances he finds himself in, he knows he wouldn’t- couldn’t- dare to say such outright hurtful things to you again.

Heat rises up your neck like a wildfire, averting your eyes in an effort to fend it off. Luckily, the waitress returns to the table and shields you from Sukuna teasing your shyness as you ask for the bill. She returns a moment later and lets you know to pay at the front.

“Ready?” You hum, bracing your hands on the bench. When Sukuna nods, you push yourself out of the seat, brushing down Sukuna’s suit jacket before handing it back to him with a sweet ‘thank you’ as you throw your winter coat over your stained blouse.

Heading to the front of the shop, you pull out your card as the waitress prepares the keypad, but before you can move a muscle, Sukuna slots his card into the reader.

“Sukuna, what? No-” you reach out in an attempt to pull his card away. “I told you I’d pay. Ah-!” An involuntary squeak leaves you as Sukuna pulls your hand away from his card and uses a strong arm around your shoulders to slot you against him, holding you away from the machine. Even as you claw at his bicep and struggle against him in a fit of giggles and protests to let you go, he effortlessly holds you in place.

It’s such an obvious display of his muscles and you’re painfully sure he can feel the heat radiating from your skin given how close his arm is to your collar and neck. And really, how are you not supposed to think about his stupidly buff arm when the veins are right in your vision?

Asshole.

When he finally releases his grip and you stumble forward, fixing him with a pout, he just smirks at you.

“I was gonna pay!” You insist.

He shrugs. “Ramen won’t break the bank. It’s worth it for you.”

Any protests die in your throat as all you can do is blink at him. Your lips purse, his words settling in your mind.

Had he just said that it’s worth it, you wouldn’t have thought twice about it, it’s the way he specified that it’s worth it for you. Sukuna returns to his business like it’s nothing, tucking his card into his wallet and shoving his hands in his pockets, but it takes you a moment to follow after him as he pushes back out into the cold.

The brisk air hardly even hits you. Sure, it’s gotten a bit warmer, but that’s not what you’re focused on when the intonation behind Sukuna’s words only leaves you shocked, and worse, confused. You know your friendship with him runs deeper than most that he bothers to foster and you hold a place within his life that he’s willing to fight for, but this strikes you in a way that your usual banter and nudges don’t.

It brings you back to the way you’d been stunned when he intertwined your fingers in a way that felt so real.

You remember his rejection all too well, and yet… Now you’re not so sure how he feels. Maybe you’re reading into things too much, maybe this is all part of him earning your trust back, but your racing heart wants to think otherwise.

Maybe it’s all just a sick delusion.

Swallowing hard, you push aside your thoughts as you crawl back into your shell, the sudden realization of something altogether confusing leaving you scared. “Do you need a ride?”

“Nah,” Sukuna replies, the face of stoicism. He digs into his pocket, setting a cigarette between his lips. “Gonna walk to the kids’ school n’ wait. It’ll give me some time to think,” he gruffs, his voice muffled from the cigarette. His lighter clicks as it ignites, the ashen edge of the cigarette glowing like a firefly.

“Sounds good. I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“See ya, princess.”

–

The office is quiet come Tuesday. Even Yuki only stole about ten minutes of your time, mostly to complain about the fact that she’s still not done with Baby Whale, and she’s absolutely sick of it.

And really, who can blame her?

Finishing up your work, you send it over to Yuki for review and approval, met with an immediate pout from her as your email pops up in her inbox right away. With an innocent smile, you’re just about to offer to take something off her plate since you’re a bit ahead of schedule when Maya pings you with a request to come see her.

Excusing yourself, you make your way over to her office with dread twisting your gut.

She likely just has a question, but there’s something stressful about being summoned to your boss’ office no matter the occasion.

Or maybe that’s just how your brain works, finding worries in the least likely of places.

Knocking, you push into Maya’s office with a polite smile, casting a glance to the side at the sight of Sukuna manspreading in a chair across from Maya’s desk with his arms crossed over his chest. Your eyes fall to his forearms, the veins protruding over rippling muscles with his sleeves pushed up. God, he’s distracting.

His aloof stare falls flickers to you before he fixes his attention on Maya again.

“Hey,” she greets, sitting up and clasping her hands professionally. Something about the momentous air in the room doesn’t settle your nerves as she addresses you. “Sorry, Sukuna and I were just finishing up his one-month review,” she explains as she hands him some paperwork. You can’t make out how it went based on either of their expressions. “While I have him here, I figured I’d call you in as well. The client pushed the due date forward on Lee’s Adventure. How far along are the edits and cover? They want them by tomorrow but I don’t want to push either of you,” she explains.

“I finalized the edits this morning, Yuki just needs to review. I can take some of her work to balance her workload,” you offer.

“Gimme an hour and the cover’s done,” Sukuna replies mildly.

“You two are lifesavers, thank you,” she sighs in relief. “I swear, as soon as we finish this, I’m done with this agent,” she grumbles. “Send me the cloud file once it’s uploaded, Sukuna. I’ll wait for Yuki and let her know you’ll take something from her.”

Once dismissed, you stretch your arms overhead as you make your way out into the main office. The moment Sukuna shuts Maya’s door, he turns towards you. “Coffee?”

Huh, you hadn’t even realized he didn’t bring you one today. “Don’t you need to work on the cover?”

“I finished it last night,” he dismisses with a smirk. “Come get coffee with me.”

You can’t help the bubbly laughter that comes with the realization of why he asked for an hour, nodding. You both make pit stops at your offices before making your way out the front door. The snow has mostly cleared and it’s finally warm enough to be in a spring jacket rather than a winter one. With the weather finally easing up, it’s nice to be outside again. No breath billowing out in front of you as your ears and the tips of your fingers freeze, just a light breeze that rustles your hair.

There’s a shop only a couple of blocks from the office that you’ve only tried once when you got to work a bit early that you had enjoyed. It’s not Sukuna’s usual choice, but his order is about as simple as it gets, so surely it can’t be too bad no matter where he goes.

“You go first,” he urges as you arrive, letting you tell the cashier what you’d like. He steps forward and requests a black coffee, playfully shoving you aside in the process because he knows you well enough to know you were about to try to pay.

“You have to let me pay for something,” you groan in mock disdain.

He shrugs, not even offering any words.

Sighing, you shake your head. “Thanks, Kuna.”

He hums in acknowledgement, handing your drink over as it slides across the counter.

Once his arrives, he leads the way to a table and slides down in the chair, taking a sip of his coffee. He sighs at the familiar taste, grateful to finally get some caffeine in his system to keep him awake.

“So, how’d your review go?” You ask, taking slow sips of your warm drink.

“Pretty good,” he nods, glancing off to the side in thought. He seems tired again, though given that you both thought the trial was last Thursday, the kids probably did too, which really would only extend Sukuna’s troubles. “I guess the fucker who thought you were his personal assistant complained, but other than that she seemed pretty happy.”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes. “Reggie’s the worst. He’s so full of himself.”

Yawning, your friend shrugs again. “Whatever. She didn’t really seem like she cared that he complained.”

“That’s good at least. I don’t think anyone really likes him, so-”

You cut yourself off as Sukuna begins digging in his pocket abruptly, scowling at his vibrating phone as he processes the name on the caller ID.

“Hello?”

From your perspective, he continues to glower at nothing in particular as he listens to whoever’s on the other line. He hums or grunts in reply, though he doesn’t offer much for insight until something seems to catch his attention.

“What?” He growls, hackles raised as he’s suddenly sitting upright. “It shouldn’t be ready for weeks.”

More silence as Sukuna runs a hand through his hair, tousling it. “The f-” he cuts himself off, adjusting his phrasing, “what does it say, anyway?”

You take a sip of your coffee, trying to give him privacy, but it’s hard when you left your phone at the office and have no distraction beyond your surroundings.

He sighs heavily, waving his hand uselessly through the air in exasperation. “Gotta be kidding me, of course it does.”

Huffing as he continues to listen to the caller, his frustrations quickly explode into full-blown fury. “How? You said we shoulda had fuckin’ weeks, how is that fucking possible?” He barks.

Your eyes widen at the sudden change in tone. The tattooed man casts a glance around the cafe before abruptly standing and pushing out the door to continue his conversation outside. Choosing to give him privacy, you stay in your seat, watching with concern as he throws his hands in the air in disbelief from outside the window. It takes a few minutes before he hangs up and dumps his phone into his pocket. He throws his head back, dragging his hands over his face and remaining there for a good minute before swinging the cafe door back open with enough vigor that it meets the wall behind it.

Sukuna plops down in the chair across from you, picking up the coffee he’d left on the table and downing it in one go. Your brow raises as you regard him with concern.

Before you can voice your concern, Sukuna speaks up. “What’re you doing tomorrow morning?” He asks tersely, his gaze fixated on the paper cup in his grasp that he’s struggling not to crush in his own bout of irritation.

“Um-” you hesitate, scouring your mind for anything important. “Just classes, why?”

“The fuckin’ trial’s tomorrow.”

You recoil in horror, eyes wide. “What? How?”

“Fuckin’ Kaori,” he hisses. “Fucking snake put an urgent push on the date and I guess it only needs twenty four hours’ notice,” he growls, the cup in his hand fracturing under the weight of his hold. He sets it down on the table before whatever liquid’s left in the paper cup drips onto his gray slacks. “Can’t believe they’re letting her get away with this shit.”

“Wouldn’t she need, like, evidence or something to make it urgent?” You shake your head quizzically, trying to make sense of the sudden weight placed on Sukuna. It had only been a handful of days since he’d come to terms with the fact that he had more time and now the rug is being pulled out from under him as fast as it had been laid out.

Sukuna shakes his head and shrugs at once. “I don’t fuckin’ know.” His tone is disdainful as he harshly rubs his hands over his face. “She paid for a rush on the house study and it should have been done in a few weeks instead of months, not a few fuckin’ days,” he snaps, not directed at anyone in particular.

“You don’t think…” you trail off, chewing on your lower lip as you bring up something that’s been gnawing at you.

“Yeah, I do fucking think this shit is rigged,” he finishes your thought, pushing a hand through his salmon locks. He exhales heavily, eyes alight. “Fuck, I just told the kids things were okay and now I’m a fucking liar, and she’s fuckin’ cheating somehow, I- I don’t-” his anger and anxiety begin to blur, the lines separating them beginning to converge as his leg bounces beneath the table.

The fire in his eyes is quickly extinguished by fear as he considers what his next twenty four hours will look like.

You can’t watch despair take over without stepping in. Reaching across the table, you offer your hand. “I’ll be there. Class doesn’t matter. What time?”

He turns his attention to you, his eyes flickering between your face and your outstretched hand. “Ten thirty,” he grumbles, cautiously reaching out to squeeze your hand. “Thanks, princess.”

With a sympathetic smile, you nod.

“Shit, I gotta…” he trails off, inhaling sharply. “I gotta get home n’ meet with the lawyer,” he mumbles, his day immediately cut short by none other than Kaori.

Squeezing his hand reassuringly, you capture his attention again. “Do you want some tea or something before you leave?” You offer, recalling how fast he downed his coffee.

Sukuna nods hesitantly. “Another coffee would be nice,” he mumbles, standing before you can move. “I can get it, though.”

“Let me get you this,” you plead as you push to your feet.

He takes a moment to examine the determined gleam in your eyes before giving in. “Sure.”

With a new cup of coffee in hand shortly afterwards, he thanks you quietly as you begin the short and tense walk back to work. The morning had seemed so easy barely a half hour ago, and now you can’t help but think that you took that sensation for granted.

Silence follows you as you let yourselves back into the building, quietly following Sukuna to his office while you stand in the doorway as he begins packing up.

“Don’t forget to send that cover to Maya,” you remind him.

He mutters a curse under his breath, the dark circles under his eyes painfully apparent as he pulls his laptop back out and quickly sends the files over to your boss.

Once he’s finished packing up, his coffee in-hand, you stop him before the door with a hand on his forearm. He regards you with a look that breathes only exhaustion.

“It’ll be okay,” you reassure him.

Despite the swirling anger and anxiety living within the crimson oceans of his irises, something stronger breaks through when he steels himself as he replies. “I know. I won’t let her fuckin’ win.”

You offer a smile, grateful for the resolve that he continues to nurture despite his own doubts. His brothers need him, and he’ll play the role he needs to in order to win the trial, no matter how much he feels as though he’s at his wit’s end. You can only pray he holds himself above water long enough to keep himself from drowning.

“Good luck, Kuna.”

He examines your expression for a moment, simply nodding as he pulls away from your grasp and slips out the front door without a word.

–

Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you stare in the mirror. It’s funny, the way you’d felt so prepared for this day for so long, but now that it’s here, it sits like a molten lava in your stomach. It churns and sears at your insides, unsettling you to your very core. If this is how you’re feeling as a bystander, you can only imagine the way Sukuna’s feeling right now.

They’re not your family, not your brothers, but they’re dear to you. All three of them.

Running your hands down the front of your black pencil skirt, you nod to yourself in the mirror. Fiddling with the sleeve of your (now stain-free) white blouse, you gather your keys and throw on a nice coat and professional plain black heels.

Even the thought of listening to music doesn’t seem right on the drive to the courthouse. Your mind is filled with trepidation, your finger tapping idly at the leather steering wheel as you opt for silence on the way there.

The world around you seems to hold its breath as you step out of your vehicle, your heels landing on fresh pavement. The birds overhead are silent, although a pair of crows eye you from their perch atop a tree. The air is suffocating, and you long for the relief that the end of this hearing will surely bring.

Your gaze falls on the large wooden doors at the front of the familiar stone building with flags at either side. The sheer size alone is imposing enough as is, but the cool and smooth exterior of the monotonous building does no favors to ease your stress. You would almost think they want you to be nervous upon arrival.

Pushing through the doors, you’re reminded that the inside is no better. After making it through security, there are very few windows, the artificial overhead lighting beating down on you as though it’s passing its own judgement. A large reception desk sits at the center of the room, alongside a pair of hallways on either end of the lobby. Evaluating the vaguely familiar room, you find the person you’re searching for fairly easily, his hair standing out in the waiting crowd with Ms. Harte sitting silently beside him.

The click of your heels alerts Sukuna to your presence before you take a seat beside him. He’s dressed to the nines, but you don’t have the luxury of appreciating just how good he looks given the gravity of the situation. When he lifts his head, you find yourself frowning regardless. His eyes are little more than an endless sea of doubts, stress, fears, and misery. There’s a distance glazed over his eyes that suggests he’s not all there right now, hanging on by a thread.

He’s worn so thin that even the sight of you doesn’t ease any of the thoughts running through his mind. He’s gone over the case so many times with his lawyer in the past twenty four hours that he’s not sure he even can be any more prepared, yet he still finds himself feeling vastly underprepared. The short notice in particular claws at the very flesh of his being, as though Kaori is personally taunting him.

“Hey.” Your voice is soft as you offer him a smile, but your nerves are evident in the twitch of your brow. His pupils slide slowly from your face down to your wrist, where he can faintly see the red and purple twine bracelets hidden beneath your semi-translucent sleeve. You may be here in part to support him, which he appreciates more than you could ever know, but he knows the gravity of this situation affects you too, given how much you adore his little brothers.

He almost regrets ever dragging you into this part of his life. The only reason he can even dare to put the word ‘almost’ in that thought is because if he ever dared to express that, you’d chew him out. He thinks he’d let you without so much as batting an eye either, because he needs you.

“Sukuna?” You softly call out to him and his gaze finally raises from your wrist once more to meet your eyes. He examines you for a moment, his finger twitching as he longs to reach out. He longs for the comfort the warmth of your soft skin brings him, but his own self-doubt plagues him down as though he’s wading through mud. He barely has enough strength to keep himself afloat, let alone to dare ask for something.

He knows he’s made leaps and bounds of progress in your relationship over the last few weeks, but as he braves the fog of his mind, he can’t seem to make sense of the lines that separate you anymore. He can’t bear the thought of overstepping.

As is, there’s already a risk he loses his brothers. He can’t lose you, too.

Not again.

Clearing his throat, he gruffly pushes out a reply. “Hey.”

Your brow furrows, “Do you need some water?” You offer, sure you can find somewhere to get him some.

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m fine.”

You both know well that it’s a lie. Neither of you are fine.

The dejected tone he speaks in doesn’t do him any favors, either. To think this is the same man you met so many months ago almost seems like a joke. Usually so full of pride and bravado, the world has stomped out every last flame that once made up the stubborn brute. He seems almost like a shell of his former self.

It’s strange, when you consider what you’d just told Shoko last week, that Sukuna seems more like himself. The more you think about it, now you’re not so sure. It’s as though his own life is beating him down into a person that you wonder if he even recognizes.

Your heart twists at the thought that somewhere along the line, the man sitting beside you lost himself.

He lost you, he lost himself, and now he’s at risk of losing what’s left of his world.

It only makes you more furious with his step-mother. You don’t see her or her lawyer on this side of the waiting room, and thank god for that. The look of control she always bears makes your skin crawl.

“How are Choso and Yuji?” You keep your voice low as you check in on your friend and his brothers.

Sukuna sighs quietly. “Uraume’s with ‘em. Couldn’t get them to go to school. When I told ‘em what was going on, Choso…” He just shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with a thumb and forefinger.

“He shut down?”

Sukuna hums in thought. “No, I think he’s tryin’ to listen to you.” He shuffles in his seat, sitting up. Tugging at his collar and tie uncomfortably, he cracks his neck. “I just dunno what to do. He’s outside my door tryin’ to talk every few minutes, but I-” With a shrug, he shakes his head again. He knows you get him. He doesn’t need to tell you that he doesn’t have a way with words, you know.

“He just needs you to be there for him. You don’t have to say anything.”

The crimson of his eyes seems to swirl with doubts as he examines you, but he finds it in himself to nod, slumping back in the chair once more.

“How’d the house study turn out?” You query, hoping that will at least help his case.

Shakily sighing, he tilts his head in a ‘so-so’ manner. “No issues with the house,” he states, his gaze fixated on an empty chair in front of him. “But they looked at the kids’ mental health as well, and Yu’s went fine but Cho…” he shakes his head with a sigh, knowing he doesn’t need to spell it out for you. “Good news is they gave us a record of what both kids said and asked ‘em both about me and Kaori.”’

“That should help,” you agree, thankful that even if Choso is too young to testify, at least the kids’ opinions are taken into account to some degree.

“Yeah…” He agrees, though he doesn’t seem to share your optimism, his gaze still painfully distant with the weight of his ambivalence.

Unable to keep his mind on-track for a conversation, he inhales sharply as the tense silence of the courthouse surrounds you both. The closer the time strikes to ten thirty, the more the air seems claustrophobic despite the high ceilings and large, open lobby. With each second that passes, Sukuna finds his leg bouncing quicker, his mind racing faster, and his heart damn-near pounding right out of his chest.

Every muscle in his body is rife with tension, and his chest could implode at any second given the burden that claws at his lungs. He can only sit with his hands clasped in his lap, acting as though the taste in his mouth isn’t so vile that he could wretch.

Quietly drowning, he doesn’t dare to even cast you a glance. As though every mistake he’s ever made with his brothers isn’t already crashing through his mind like a wave, he can’t bear to consider the ones he’s made with you.

But you’ve always been too sweet to him.

In a silent show of support, your fingers glide across the skin of his clasped hands, settling atop them. You run your thumb gently over his knuckles, the warmth of your skin soothing the frigid water that threatens his lungs. The sympathy on your features would frustrate him if you were anyone else, but from you, it doesn’t taste so bitter.

He takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes. His leg gradually stops bouncing as your thumb continues to softly brush his skin. He casts you a grateful glance despite his silence, too afraid of ruining the moment and losing the one thing keeping him sane.

It’s funny, really. Or maybe funny isn’t the right word. But Sukuna remembers a time where nothing scared him. He remembers being the type of kid who would dive headfirst into a fist fight with someone bigger than him just because they bumped into him.

He’d even gotten off lucky once when he’d thrown a punch at some rich kid tattling on him for skateboarding in a park where it was prohibited, but he’d narrowly missed and slammed his fist into the wall. Why is that lucky? Because the money Jin had to spend fixing Sukuna’s fist is nothing compared to the money he could have spent on a worthless lawsuit. That was also one of the first times Sukuna had ever experienced the true shame in being at the center of Jin’s disappointment.

It’s also the single moment in his life that decided that he would call Kaori rather than Jin when he was arrested.

But Sukuna’s world has flipped on its head, and that’s not who he is anymore. He doesn’t have the luxury of throwing reckless punches at the wall.

He needs to be better, for his brothers. He wants to be better and build a world where they can have what Sukuna couldn’t.

He casts you a glance. You’re part of that world, too, though he struggles to identify what role it is that you play.

“Case number 2493, Sukuna versus Itadori.”

Sukuna’s head whips up to face a man in a full suit standing at the edge of the waiting area with a woman dressed equally as pristinely at his side. He recognizes them as the bailiff and court clerk, ready to lead the way to the family courtroom and staring expectantly at the waiting crowd.

Ms. Harte gets to her feet, leading the way with a confident gait. She greets the court clerk and bailiff with a professional smile while waiting on Sukuna who’s much slower to get to his feet. He pulls his hands away from you, brushing his suit down and adjusting his tie. He loosens it slightly, but the choking feeling he’s experiencing isn’t the tie at all.

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he glances back over the chair as though he might be forgetting something, before following after the lawyer. Although your nerves are more subtle than Sukuna’s, you find yourself following his lead, brushing down your outfit as though your presence has any bearing on the case.

From the opposite side of the waiting room comes Kaori in a flawlessly fitted suit and pencil skirt with a new obvious display of wealth sparkling in the overhead light as it dangles from her neck with matching earrings to boot. Her confidence is picturesque with not a single hair out of place. Her lawyer, Mr. Cahn, stands as proudly as ever beside her in a navy suit, equally as prepared as she seems.

You’ve only seen her once before, for such a brief period of time as she drove Sukuna through hoops in an effort to take her children from him, and yet were this not a courthouse, you would have words for her. Choice words. You didn’t know back then the lengths she was willing to go through to ruin Sukuna’s life, and now you can only wonder what more is in store.

You’re not one to raise your voice, nor start fights, but she’s caused so much needless pain and suffering to those three brothers, that you find yourself wanting a fight. You can only imagine how Sukuna feels about her as you catch a glimpse of the daggers he’s sending her way.

She’s lucky his lawyer warned him to stay on the judge’s good side this time around.

In your mind, she’s the textbook definition of a monster, so her kind and somewhat sympathetic smile cast in Sukuna’s direction as she approaches immediately strikes you as fake. Much like every other nicety she’s thrown his way over the past week.

Sukuna’s hands ball into fists at his sides as the clerk ushers your parties to a courtroom simply labeled as ‘four’. The clerk pushes his way into the small room, helping both parties get situated at separate tables before the judge’s bench as he and the bailiff take their own seats.

The room is smaller than what you’ve seen in the movies. There’s very little room to move around and apart from the flags that hang at the door, the small room is painted only in dull and somewhat dark tones of cream and walnut. There’s still no windows, the sterile overhead lights being the only source of light and painfully so. The artificial feeling of the room does no favors for your nerves.

The clerk leads you to the small section of gallery seating behind Sukuna as the only viewer of the case, though you suppose that family law likely doesn’t get many spectators, so it figures that you’re alone. Still, the uncomfortable chair doesn’t add any layer of comfort.

Both lawyers quietly discuss the case with their clients while awaiting the arrival of the judge. Ms. Harte emphasizes courtroom rules to Sukuna before quickly going over the points she expects Kaori to use given the documents that had been provided by the opposing lawyer during their latest disclosure of evidence and the case conference last week. Among the evidence is a variety of photos, school records, and much to Sukuna’s dismay, evidence of every transgression plaguing his troubled childhood.

Every. Single. One.

His lawyer had assured him she didn’t see this being an issue given how old most of the documents are, but he’s still little more than a hulking mass of tension, while the opposing party on the opposite side of the room is the picture of confidence. That serves to make you more nervous, but Sukuna’s been the kids’ guardian for so long that there’s no way he can lose.

The door to the courtroom creaks open as a tall man in a gray suit enters the room. As Sukuna recognizes that the trial is about to begin, he inhales deeply, casting aside as many of his doubts as he can to present himself as one thing: determined.

For a moment, you even think you see a glimpse of the confident bravado Sukuna once wore back when you first met. It may be a mask he wears to keep up the appearance of his resolve, but a sliver of that mask bears a resemblance to the Sukuna you recognize.

He can do this.

The bailiff stands at the entrance to the room, straightening as she presents the judge. “Please rise. The Honorable Judge Martinez is now presiding.”

The judge runs a hand through his graying hair, which seems as though it may have been black once, as he takes a seat at the head of the room. His calm and authoritative emerald eyes slide across the room, taking in the scene before him and lingering a moment too long on Sukuna for your comfort. You can only hope he isn’t judging Sukuna’s ability to parent his brothers by his appearance.

That presumes anything but a fair trial, and given that Sukuna already suspects some sort of foul play on Kaori’s end, that doesn’t bode well for him.

Everything about this experience seems to differ from your expectations, as though everything you’ve seen in movies and TV isn’t quite right. Or maybe that only applies to family court, you can’t be sure.

The judge pulls a pair of glasses from his pocket, setting them on the bridge of his nose as he reads a brief summary of the case before him. As he wasn’t present during the case conference, all evidence will be new to him, which works in Sukuna’s favor as well given his outburst towards Kaori.

“Please be seated,” comes the bailiff’s instructions. Crossing your legs, you bite your lip as the hearing begins.

Judge Martinez addresses the room. “The court is now in session. We are here to address case 2493, Itadori versus Sukuna, for custody over the children Choso Itadori and Yuji Itadori. This is in regards to social file number 34785-98. I will be directing this case myself.”

Sukuna’s stomach flips in dread. Coming up on four years of taking care of them on his own and it all led to this. He wants to spew curses at his step-mother, to chew her up and spit her out wounded and bleeding, but he doesn’t dare break his calm facade. As far as anyone in this room needs to know, he’s a picturesque guardian to his brothers.

“Ms. Itadori, as the applicant in this case, we will open with your counsel’s statement.”

Kaori’s lawyer rises, bowing to the judge. He runs a hand through his well-kempt beard before beginning. “Thank you, Your Honor. My name is Richard Cahn and I will be representing the applicant, Ms. Kaori Itadori. My client is applying for full custody of these children as the biological mother of Yuji Itadori and Choso Itadori. Due to unfortunate circumstances regarding her health, Ms. Itadori was unable to care for the children after the passing of her husband, Jin Itadori, however she has since fully recovered and is now capable of providing for the children.” Her lawyer pauses, casting a glance at Sukuna, who keeps his eyes straight ahead in an effort not to break. “We acknowledge the important role Mr. Sukuna has played in their lives as their half-brother, however his actions have demonstrated that he is still young and not fit to take care of two children at this time.”

Judge Martinez nods in acknowledgement to the opposing party, motioning to Ms. Harte on Sukuna’s side. “I would like to hear from the counsel for the respondent.”

Sukuna’s lawyer stands, and you’re grateful for her confidence, because you’re struggling to share it. At least Sukuna is keeping up his confidence. Ms. Harte introduces herself in the same manner as Mr. Cahn, before beginning her statement.

“Your Honor, my client, Mr. Ryomen Sukuna, is the older half-brother of Yuji Itadori and Choso Itadori and they have been in his legal care for the past three and a half years. Mr. Sukuna has raised them since Mr. Itadori fell ill and you will find that he has successfully provided stability, a safe home, and a positive environment for them over the years. While we acknowledge Ms. Itadori’s blood-relation to the children, they have shown an overall preference for their older brother, and I would like to ask that you consider what is in their best interest for this case.”

The judge nods upon hearing both opening statements. He scans the legal paperwork beneath his hands before rattling off a series of legal rules to the room. He goes over the procedures for the hearing, making a point that he would not like either party interrupting, and that he will direct the conversation. He explains that he will begin with the applicant, to have the respondent act as such- a responder.

After ensuring his instructions are clear, he allows the bailiff to call the first witness to the stand, Kaori herself. Sukuna had inquired about having you be a witness, but his attorney advised against it as your relationship with one another wasn’t set in stone or easy to describe and could serve as a detriment against an opposition like Kaori. As such, both parties had disclosed that their only witnesses would be the two guardians themselves.

There’s no witness stand for Kaori to move to in the small family courtroom, so she simply gets to her feet. Politely clasping her hands, she takes a vow to tell the truth, swearing herself in, and bows to the judge.

With Kaori now prepared to answer questions, her lawyer rounds the table to stand closer to the judge as he presents himself to the grander room. “Ms. Itadori, please explain the reasoning behind your inability to take guardianship of your children upon your husband’s passing.”

With a nod, Kaori smiles politely. “When my husband passed away, I had recently taken a job overseas to help provide for our family. It was a difficult decision to leave, however I felt it was for the best to prepare for our future. I was made aware that my husband was sick after my departure and we spoke daily, however I didn’t receive any notice that he had passed away for quite some time. I tried to reach out, but never heard back.”

Sukuna’s nails dig into his palms beneath the table at the blatant lie, but he does everything he can to keep his expression neutral. At the end of the day it’s her word against his, he can’t afford to tarnish the judge’s view of him.

“I had booked a flight back when I didn’t hear back after a couple of days, but I became quite ill out of nowhere. Um-” She pauses, her mask of confidence slipping for just a moment as she glances down at the table before her. “Here are my medical records and the flight ticket receipts.”

Her lawyer takes the documents, presenting them to the judge, who lays the paperwork out before him. He scans them briefly, motioning with his hand. “Please continue.”

“Thank you, Your Honor. I only recovered late last year, otherwise I would have started this process much earlier. I love my children and I regret missing such a large portion of their lives.”

Mr. Cahn nods in approval at her testimony. “Please testify to the statement made that Mr. Sukuna is unfit for guardianship.”

Kaori nods, clearing her throat. “Of course. My step-son didn’t reach out when my husband passed away, and I was distraught to find that he had taken custody of my own children after learning of my husband’s passing. I helped raise Mr. Sukuna since he was nine years old, but he always caused problems. I have school records as evidence of his poor grades and misdemeanors.”

Her lawyer passes the documents along to the judge as she continues

“And here’s a photo Ryomen took with my son Choso which shows him trespassing in a train yard committing property damage. Not only is this inappropriate behaviour, but my son is very impressionable and this unacceptable.” She clasps her hands in front of herself, keeping up her responsible and caring appearance. “How is Mr. Sukuna meant to be trusted as a guardian, when he has demonstrated his poor abilities to care for my children as a babysitter?”

Sukuna’s mask of neutrality begins to break as he’s just about ready to pull his own hair out. A fucking selfie from when he was sixteen. Come the fuck on. Although he’s already seen all of her evidence, it��s hard not to be irritated with the woman when she’d held onto his records all these years later. He’s certain she did it for no other reason than to hold them over his head if she ever needed to.

“I’m aware these are older, however I don’t believe his behavior has changed. Before serving him with this case, I was going to talk to him about discussing this in a more civil manner, however I didn’t feel safe leaving my kids with him when I found him smoking outside of his apartment with someone while my kids were alone upstairs.”

Sukuna shuffles in his seat, but he can’t recall whatever Kaori is talking about. It’s not like he would have left them for long, he was right outside. If he were to guess, he was likely with Uraume if he was smoking with someone and it was before the lawsuit. It probably wasn’t you.

Kaori glances back down over the evidence on the table in front of her. “I would also like to bring attention to Mr. Sukuna’s employment. His lawyer provided us with his records, and he was working two jobs, while also attending college. This is irresponsible for my children’s well-being and wouldn’t allow him any time to be home with them. He would need to leave them in the care of other people, or even alone, rather than being with them himself.”

The worst part about this trial for Sukuna as he’s forced to sit in silence, is not being able to scream from the top of his lungs that at least he was there at all. Kaori can claim she was sick all she would like and Sukuna can’t refute that, but he sees through it.

“For those reasons, I would like to suggest that full custody is returned to me, as their mother. My husband and I have prepared rooms for both boys and we have the money and time to provide for them.”

Sukuna’s head whips towards Kaori, scanning her left hand. Sure enough, a rock as extravagant as the necklace she’s flaunting sits around her ring finger. Husband? Since when? That hadn’t been in any of the documents that had been provided to Sukuna and Ms. Harte. How had she had the time to get married if she was supposedly so sick?

He swallows hard, staring at the table in front of him. Surely the judge can see the holes in her logic just as Sukuna can.

Does she really just hate Sukuna that much that she can’t bear the thought of having a conversation with him to solve this?

That’s a useless thought, though. After everything that’s happened with her, Sukuna wouldn’t have handed over custody. It’s not what his brothers want, and he can see now more than ever that this isn’t in their best interest. He’s been trying to convince himself for months now that he’s a good guardian, but for the first time it’s glaringly obvious. Kaori is lying through her teeth, even after taking an oath, but Sukuna can’t refute any of her lies, he has no proof of anything.

Every word from Kaori is coldly calculated to take Sukuna down and his gut twists with each lie she tells.

He can’t figure out for the life of him what her angle is, either. What does she want them for? She clearly didn’t want them to begin with, so what the hell changed?

And worse still are Sukuna’s fears that Kaori is somehow manipulating the outcome of the trial. He needs to put his faith in the system, but it’s not easy when he has to watch her lie so outlandishly with such confidence, only to receive a nod from the judge.

Before her lawyer can speak, Kaori chimes in one last time, tilting her head towards Sukuna as she feigns motherly love for her step-son. “I appreciate everything Mr. Sukuna has done for my children, however he’s young, he has no support, and he has no experience raising children. Mr. Sukuna has always struggled with his emotions, as documented by his school records, and I don’t believe he can provide the emotional support my children require, particularly Choso.”

Emotional support. There it is. It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Like she knows just how to hit him where it hurts.

The weight on Sukuna’s chest bears down harder on him as she points out his shortcomings. He knows. He knows. Fuck, he knows. But it’s still better than what she can offer. It takes every ounce of Sukuna’s concentration to keep reminding himself of that. He won’t deny that he’s young and inexperienced in raising children. He won’t deny that he was horribly ill-prepared at first.

But he was there. He wasn’t perfect, he still isn’t. But he was there and that has to count for something.

“Ms. Itadori, can you comment on the urgency of this case?” Mr. Cahn pushes.

“Absolutely. We pushed for a rush of the house study due to my concerns for my oldest son’s mental well-being which that study confirmed, however upon being on the receiving end of my step-son’s behavioral issues last week during and following the case conference, I felt that it was important to place an urgent rush on this trial.” She grimaces as though this is some sort of grave and unfortunate ordeal for her.

Her lawyer nods in approval once again, all lines from both people in their party clearly rehearsed to a T. “That is all, Your Honor.”

The judge motions to Ms. Harte accordingly. “Thank you, Ms. Itadori. I would like to invite the respondent’s attorney to cross-examine the witness.”

Ms. Harte stands, confidently rounding the tables. Her heels click across the hardwood floor as she finds a place before Kaori. “Ms. Itadori,” she begins, “you claim that my client did not reach out upon your husband’s death, can you comment on the records that I provided your party detailing his efforts to reach out?”

“May I see these records?” The judge chimes in.

“Of course, Your Honor,” Ms. Harte agrees, handing over the paperwork.

“I do see here that Ryomen reached out, however none of my contact information here is right. I had moved recently and swapped to company-owned devices when I received a promotion at my job,” Kaori confidently explains. Her drawl carries an air of arrogance, as though nothing could possibly break her air-tight testimony.

“How could that be? Why would your step-son not have your proper contact information?”

“As I mentioned previously, Ryomen has a record of delinquency and I didn’t feel it was appropriate to step in and police how my husband chose to parent him,” she explains with ease. “We communicated very rarely after I left, and I didn’t have his number on-hand to reach out when Jin wasn’t replying.”

Sukuna’s lawyer pushes further. “Can you still say that you helped to raise Mr. Sukuna and know him well if you weren’t willing to step in as a parent?”

Kaori nods. “I did everything I could to appeal to Ryomen. I was there for every holiday, I took him to his driver’s test, and would take him shopping. My husband and I decided it was for the best that I tried to only create good memories with him since he wasn’t fond of me for a while. I believe for a while, he saw me as a threat to the attention he received from his father.”

Ms. Harte doesn’t so much as stutter as she continues to question Kaori. “If you weren’t willing to step in with Mr. Sukuna, why should the court believe you’ll do so with Choso and Yuji Itadori?”

“Those are my children. I’m comfortable parenting them how I believe is best, and I know their needs well.” she attests, her form straightening. “My children need their mother.”

Ms. Harte shakes her head. “Can you say that you know their needs well when the house study details not only that neither child remembers you, but also that their preference is for my client’s guardianship?”

The judge flips through the documents submitted to the court laid out in front of him, nodding in acknowledgement once he’s skimmed the children’s statements.

Yet Kaori always seems prepared. “I acknowledge that they were both young when I took a position overseas, and I have reason to believe that the preference towards Ryomen that they have stated is purely for that reason. Given the opportunity, I know they would thrive in my care,” she states confidently. “They’ve only chosen Mr. Sukuna as they don’t know what it means to be outside of his care.”

Sukuna’s lawyer mentally resets as Kaori rebounds easily. Addressing the room as a whole as she continues. “In addition, I would like to request that the documents provided by the applying party regarding my client’s educational misdemeanors be disregarded, as nothing is dated within the last four years.”

The judge regards Sukuna quietly for a moment before nodding. “Sustained.”

Ms. Harte bows politely. “Thank you, Your Honor. Additionally, I would like to ask that claims of Mr. Sukuna being seen outside of his apartment are disregarded as hearsay, as my client does not recall this.”

“Objection, Your Honor!” Kaori’s lawyer speaks up, taking a stand. “I would like to ask that the court considers that a guardianship case is primarily hearsay, especially in circumstances where the children are too young to testify. Would Mr. Sukuna’s claim that he doesn’t recall this moment not be equally considered hearsay?”

The judge takes a moment to consider this, before clasping his hands together. “I agree. Your request is overruled,” he addresses Ms. Harte. Sukuna rolls his shoulders in his seat, crossing his arms to mask his irritation.

It’s not like there haven’t been small wins and pushes in Sukuna’s favor, but the cards seem to fall ever in Kaori’s favor, no matter how hard Ms. Harte and Sukuna fight.

“Very well, Your Honor,” Ms. Harte relents, clearly frustrated by this outcome. “In any case, I would like to ask that Ms. Itadori provides further information on this claim.”

“Of course,” Kaori smiles easily. “I arrived from overseas on September 4th, and went to visit my step-son on the sixth in the evening, which is when I witnessed him smoking with someone.”

“Do you have any evidence the children were home at the time?” Ms. Harte queries.

Kaori hesitates for a moment, the first crack in her confidence that sends a wave of relief through both you and Sukuna. “No, but I have no reason to believe they were somewhere else either.”

Ms. Harte nods, moving along. “You mentioned that you and your husband will be able to provide for the children. If you were unable to reach your phone due to illness, when did you have time to be married after your husband Jin’s passing while ill?”

Kaori cracks once more, hesitation crossing her features for the briefest of moments. “We met prior to Jin’s passing, and he supported me through my grief and sickness. Our ceremony was days before I returned to see my children in September and our honeymoon has yet to happen. Everything has happened very quickly,” she explains.

Sukuna sits upright in his seat, blinking at the realization that while she may not have admitted it, there’s no fucking way she didn’t cheat on Jin. Again. Sukuna grits his teeth hard, the pressure in his jaw tightening until he’s physically holding back a snarl. Sukuna can live with the ways she wronged him, but to smite Jin in his final days? He wants nothing more than to put her in her place.

But all he can do is sit in silence while Ms. Harte moves along, Kaori’s response is too sound to question further. “Ms. Itadori, you claim that Mr. Sukuna’s work schedule wouldn’t give him much time to be with the kids, however as outlined in the documents provided to your lawyer, you can see that Sukuna has recently taken a new position to allow himself more time with them.”

Kaori shoots a glance at the paperwork in front of her, nodding. “I see that, however his resume doesn’t give me confidence that he’s able to keep that job. He doesn’t seem to hold onto anything for much longer than a year, and that same document says that he recently dropped out of college.”

Unperturbed, Sukuna’s lawyer presses. “He put the children first over his own desires. Does that not show a dedication to these kids?”

Kaori considers this for a moment, casting a glance at her lawyer, though he nods confidently as though they’ve gone over the possibility of this coming up. You wonder if she’s even speaking in her own words, or if everything is a premeditated response, practiced. “It does, however I’m concerned for his ability to provide for my sons if he’s unable to hold a job or schooling. By dropping out, he’s also limited his career options,” she points out. “He doesn’t seem to have the qualifications for his current position, either.”

Sukuna stiffens at the mention of college, his leg inadvertently bouncing again under the table. He’s not sure if it ever stopped shaking, really, or if he’s just now noticing it again.

“There are more ways than just school to climb within the workforce nowadays, Ms. Itadori. Additionally, my client has proven more than capable of providing for the children financially by any means necessary. He’s shown his willingness and dedication to them through his actions,and has never once been unable to pay rent, keep food on the table. I do hope that the court will consider that money isn’t everything.” She turns to face the judge, politely bowing. “That is all, Your Honor.”

Ms. Harte returns to her seat beside Sukuna, where he’s waiting with white knuckles as he braces himself on the arms of his chair, preparing to testify.

The bailiff thanks Kaori, willing her to sit. She then turns her attention to Sukuna, giving him the opportunity to testify as well.

Sukuna turns to his lawyer briefly for assurance, before he pushes to his feet. Rolling his shoulders and smoothing down his suit, he takes the same oath of truthfulness as Kaori. He prays that neither the judge, nor the opposing party can hear the shaky breath he takes before Ms. Harte pushes him to begin his statement.

“Your Honor, Ms Harte,” Sukuna addresses the judge and his lawyer as he begins, hesitantly shifting from foot to foot as he stares down at his hands. Clearing his throat, his chest remains tight, his voice low as he speaks. “I- uh- I’ve been taking care of my brothers since my dad died. I got us an apartment, started workin’ and have letters from my employers to show my work ethic,” he pauses to hand these to his lawyer, “and I found a babysitter my brothers like.”

Sukuna’s gaze shifts up to the judge as the letters are passed along, straightening as he feels the scrutinizing glares of his step-mother and her lawyer in his peripherals. His own voice sounds unfamiliar to him as he tries to match the formal tone of the courtroom.

“I taught myself how to cook their favorite foods, I read to ‘em,” he wracks his brain for more details. “Learned how to change diapers, and I make sure they stay in school.” He sighs quietly as he scowls down at the table before him in thought. Every hardship and distant memory of the difficulty of teaching oneself to take care of children seems to weigh him down as he recounts each and every way he taught himself to step up.

He may have been forced into this life, but in every lifetime he’d do it over again if it means his brothers are happy.

Steeling himself, he fixes the judge with a determined gaze. “I stepped up. I did what I had to when I couldn’t reach their mom, and I’m still here. My little brothers are happy, they got food on the table, a roof over their heads, n’ they’re in school with friends. I’ll do anything for my brothers, and I’ve always been there for them, even when their mother wasn’t, no matter how much that affected them.” Sukuna finishes his statement, making a point of dragging down Kaori without being disrespectful in an effort to make a point about Kaori’s disingenuity.

Turning his expectant stare towards Kaori and her lawyer, he keeps his head up and gaze certain. The minute shake in his hands is well-hidden by the determination that keeps him looking at ease.

There was a time where his confidence wouldn’t be so thinly veiled. Shit, if he was testifying on any other subject, he’s sure he would be the picture of confidence itself, unperturbed by the goings on around him. It’s dejecting to know that he’s been reduced to a shadow of his former self by the very same woman who Sukuna knows openly rejected her own children’s calls.

The woman who wouldn’t step up and be a mother to him is now the woman tearing him down through legal means rather than having a conversation.

She’s selfish.

She’s a coward and an asshole and it pisses Sukuna off to no end to know what he’s become because of her. He hardly recognizes himself.

It’s strange. The person he sees in the reflection of the judge’s glasses doesn’t feel like him. He’s accustomed to the dark circles and pale reflection he sees, but the anxiety and doubt that cloud his vision taints his perspective of himself.

Sukuna is confident. He’s sure of himself. He’s brash, bold, and egotistical. He’s a hothead and a bit too quick on the draw to jump to conclusions. He’s smart, cunning, and hard-working, but under all those layers is a man who cares very much about those dear to him.

But the man who stares back at him is scared. In fact, he can’t see any of the qualities that seem to make him Sukuna aside from a set of tattoos that his father sighed at when he saw them.

He considers for a moment your presence behind him as well, and the version of himself he’s trying to be. He strives to be better. For you, for his brothers, and even for himself.

But the real difference between his step-mother and you is that you still want the version of Sukuna you saw before his step-mother tore him to shreds. You still want his confidence, his boldness, even his ego. You like his sharp-tongue and cunning remarks, and you’re willing to work through his emotions with him when he gets a little bit too impetuous for his own good. You’re even willing to help him through the unfamiliar territory that amounts to what he’s become after Kaori’s meddling.

You only ever ask him to treat you with the respect you give him. You want him to be himself, while being conscious of others.

Ms. Harte nods, shooting Sukuna a kind smile of reassurance before falling easily back into her role. “Thank you, Mr. Sukuna. Can you provide further information on how you reached out to Ms. Itadori upon your father’s passing?”

Sukuna swallows the lump in his throat at the mention of a time he still can hardly bear to think about without guilt, shame, and grief washing over him. “Yeah. Got her number from Jin’s phone and tried his and my phone to call her, I had lawyers calling and writing, we sent letters from Choso and I, and emails to any contacts I could find.”

“Did your lawyers attempt any other method of contact?”

Sukuna nods. “Yeah, they pulled a-” he pauses, brow furrowing in thought. “A land title, I think, to try to find her new address, but nothing came up.”

Ms. Harte nods. “Thank you. Can you confirm you had no knowledge of Ms. Itadori’s illness prior to this case?”

“I didn’t,” Sukuna gruffs in confirmation, shooting a glare at Kaori as he still doesn’t believe her for a second.

“Can you attest to your connection with the children?”

Sukuna nods slowly. “Choso n’ I have been through a lot and I’ll always be there for him. I taught him how to cook and he wants to be a chef when he grows up, he even wants to take classes when he’s older,” Sukuna explains, inhaling sharply. “I’ve been there for all of Yuji’s firsts. First words, first steps, that was all me. He’s like my own kid n’ I know how to raise him and what he needs just fine.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sukuna. Can you speak to your work ethic, please?”

“Mhm,” he hums, taking a moment to mentally reset. “I worked two jobs ‘til I was able to find one that pays well enough for less hours. I did what needed to be done while I got my footing and now I’m stable and spend almost every night with my brothers.”

“Do you believe that having a babysitter affected your ability to care for your brothers?” Ms. Harte queries.

Sukuna’s thankful for this portion of the questioning, as this is all rehearsed. “No. They like their babysitter a lot and I still spend all my free time with ‘em.”

Whether he’s talking about you or the kind woman across the hall you can’t be entirely certain, but you get the feeling it’s you. Even in the midst of the stressful trial, you find a minute smile pulling at the corners of your lips at the thought.

“Can you speak to the matter documented in the case conference last week in which Ms. Itadori states that you lashed out?”

Sukuna shuts his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to keep himself composed. “It’s been an emotional time, I don’t want to lose the kids.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sukuna. No further questions,” Ms. Harte nods, bowing to the judge as she takes a seat. With Mr. Cahn taking her place, Sukuna feels a chill run up his spine at his hardened disposition.

“Mr. Sukuna, would you not agree that it’s important for the kids to have a motherly figure in their life?”

Sukuna’s jaw tightens. “They have lots of good influences in their life other than their mother.”

“Do you believe you’re one of them?”

Sukuna’s eyes narrow slightly as he blows a breath out through his nose. If he weren’t in a courtroom, he’d have choice words for the man in the navy suit. “I do.”

Mr. Cahn presses harder, sensing Sukuna’s mounting frustration. “Would you not consider your nicotine addiction to be a detriment to the children’s health and your ability to uphold a positive influence in their lives?”

It takes everything in him to keep his tone neutral as he replies. “I don’t smoke around the kids.”

Unfortunately, Sukuna doesn’t realize the angle that he gives the man across from him. “So you admit that what Ms. Itadori saw when she intended to visit her children could be a possibility?”

Sukuna’s brow furrows, casting a glance at his lawyer who shoots him a signal to simply tell the truth, whatever he believes that to be. “I usually smoke on the balcony. I don’t like leaving my brothers alone,” he decides after a moment, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Kaori’s lawyer examines his expression as though reading him like a book, moving along. “You claim that you had to teach yourself to cook for them and learn their preferences, were you aware of the needs of children when you became their guardian?”

Sukuna shifts. His patience for this man is on thin ice. As is, he hates that he’s sharing his life with a group of strangers, his step-mother included, but to be grilled over his decisions and abilities is downright insulting. He may be a shadow of his former self, but he’s competent and he won’t let Kaori take that away from him.

“I looked after Choso when my dad was still around, so I knew a bit. I had some growing to do when I took over, but I figured sh- things out,” he replies, crossing his bulky arms over his chest.

“But wouldn’t you agree that their mother is better suited for the position of their guardian? Her ability to care for them is borne into her instincts as a mother.”

“No,” Sukuna replies immediately, his lip curling as he snarls his response. Momentarily forgetting to hold his tongue, he barks angrily, “maybe if she ever reached out or tried to be a mother to them I’d change my mind, but she was gone for four years without a word.”

“Mr. Sukuna,” the bailiff warns in an authoritative voice.

Sukuna shoots the bailiff a sharp glare, physically biting his tongue to prevent himself from speaking out.

“Mr. Sukuna, I’d like to remind you of my client’s illness. She was bedridden for a majority of the years you speak of, unable to even sit up, let alone use a phone. On top of that, she spoke to her husband and Choso weekly at a minimum before Mr. Itadori passed. She attempted to call his phone, but you never picked up.”

Sukuna mutters an inaudible ‘whatever’ under his breath, fixing the lawyer with his harsh stare. Of course he didn’t pick up the unknown numbers calling his dad’s phone while he was grieving. That was the last thing he needed.

Chewing on your lip, you pray Sukuna can keep his frustrations under control. Given Kaori’s urgency to push the trial forward and her statements against his attitude, you can only guess he’s hurting his argument.

“Moving along, how do you balance your full-time position with taking care of the children?”

“I work while they’re in school,” he answers easily.

“And do you make enough to support them with that position alone?”

Sukuna nods slowly, lacking total conviction. “I pick up the occasional shift at an autoshop if I need to, but it’s enough.”

“And would you not agree that this allows you less time to ensure that the children are taken care of and that their needs are met?”

“Their needs,” Sukuna barely keeps his tone neutral, his teeth grit. “Are met. They have a good babysitter who they love. They’re happy.”

Ms. Harte casts a glance up at him, her expression unreadable. The judge may keep a straight face through the conversation, however you can practically see the way he’s passing silent discernment over the burly man each time he struggles to keep himself in check.

“Mr. Sukuna, a house study took place last week, correct?”

“Yeah.”

“Detailed in the documents provided to the court,” he gestures towards the broader room, “it mentions that Choso Itadori is not only quiet, but seems as though he’s struggling emotionally. Have you been unable to meet his emotional needs?”

Sukuna swallows hard.

Time after time after time, it always seems to come back to the ways in which Sukuna has failed Choso. As though his own guilt isn’t enough, even those around him seem desperate to choke his failures out of him.

How the fuck is he meant to answer? ‘No, I haven’t been able to’? What good will that do him? How the hell is he intended to deflect the question without lying, the one thing his lawyer drilled into his head over the past couple of months?

Sukuna purses his lips, searching desperately for anything to appease a court. He’d been specifically advised against mentioning you due to your complicated relationship, could he take credit for the ways you’d gotten his little brother to come out of his shell?

Unfortunately for him, Kaori’s lawyer is a vulture waiting to strike. He takes Sukuna’s drawn out silence as his opportunity to address the judge. “Mr. Sukuna does not possess the emotional maturity to provide for such young children. I would like to advise the court to consider Choso Itadori’s mental well-being and struggles when making decisions on their guardianship,” he advises without so much as a stutter.

Kaori’s lawyer takes a pause, staring down Sukuna as the older man feels he’s beginning to wear through Sukuna’s shell.

Clearing his throat, he addresses the judge once more. “While I recognize that Choso’s statement reads that he’s particularly fond of Sukuna’s care, I also want to point out that he’s young and impressionable. He has no frame of reference for any other care and it’s important to take into account the fact that he’s suffering under his current care.”

If he hadn’t already been shushed by the bailiff, Sukuna would have burst. He would have thrown down every way that Kaori failed not only his brothers in the past four years, but all the ways she’d failed him growing up.

He wants to lash out, scream about the school events he only attended to make his dad proud, only for neither of them to show up because she was too busy getting her nails done and forcing Jin to wait. He want to lay out the way she forgot about him at Toji’s place, instead opting to take Choso to a movie, or the way she chose not to attend his high school graduation in favor of a girls’ day with her friends.

It was one of the very last events his father ever got to attend before Sukuna became little more than his father’s personal ambulance as the brutish kid was forced to watch his father deteriorate- alone. Whatever energy Jin could muster was used up on taking care of Choso and Yuji in order to alleviate Sukuna of the duty.

If only Jin could see what had become of his family now.

Sukuna seethes with rage at the thought.

All these years and he’s never once thought to try to get his father’s phone records, bills, anything to prove that Jin wasn’t consistently speaking with Kaori. He’d never considered needing to keep receipts or records that would prove that the woman sitting on the opposite end of the courtroom from him isn’t what she claims.

But now every last detail of their lives is nothing more than hearsay. His word against hers.

It’s the word of an exhausted and scared older brother, against the formal documentation of an overly confident mother and her disgustingly expensive lawyer.

His hands ball into fists at his side as he flashes a snarl at the opposing lawyer. “I’m perfectly capable of providing for them. Including mentally,” he retorts, strained as he finally finds some form of footing.

“Your Honor, I would like to call an additional witness to the stand,” Kaori’s lawyer speaks up as though taking Sukuna’s words as an invitation to speak.

“Objection, Your Honor!” Ms. Harte roars as both her and Sukuna tense. “There were no additional witnesses previously disclosed to my client, we haven’t had the opportunity to prepare.”

Judge Martinez adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “Can the counsel for the applying party provide some insight on why this witness was not previously disclosed to the respondent?”

“Your Honor, we were only made aware of concerns of Choso Itadori’s mental health upon receiving the house study, which we received yesterday morning. Upon review, we felt it was necessary to contact Choso’s school for further analysis of his mental health. We only received word back last night that his teacher would be able to testify.”

You can only sit and watch, your mouth agape in horror, as the judge replies. “Objection overruled. Given the short notice, I understand that there was no time to disclose the witness, so I will allow them to testify. I will allow a small break after the testimony to give the respondent time to prepare for the cross-examination.”

Sukuna’s rage may as well manifest in the form of smoke blowing out of his ears with how furious he clearly is. He takes a seat with a drawn out, frustrated sigh as he begrudgingly holds his tongue.

You want to cry out that this is Kaori’s fault to begin with, that Choso wasn’t always like this. You want to shake her by her shirt collar that probably costs more than your entire car and blame her for everything that’s happened to this poor family, but one word from you will surely have you thrown out of the room. The most you can do is shoot Sukuna a reassuring look when he casts a fearful glance at you.

Whether it eases him or not, you can’t tell.

The court is hushed, murmurs between each lawyer and their clients are the only thing that can be heard as the bailiff retrieves the newest witness. You recognize Choso’s teacher, who likely has no real idea what’s going on, and thinks this is what’s best for the little boy, as she makes her way to the side of the opposing party’s table. Her brown hair is done up in curls, her long skirt pleated from where she sat as she awaited her part in the trial.

The bailiff has her introduce herself as Ms. Donovan, Choso’s teacher of several years due to the shifts in the school system, and she takes an oath to tell the truth, before she’s allowed to give her testimony. Mr. Cahn pushes for her to give a broad statement.

She doesn’t seem entirely comfortable in the courtroom setting as she begins. “Choso Itadori has been a part of my class for the past few years, and I currently teach him with a class of twenty three other students. I’ve known him for about five years, and he’s been an absolute pleasure. He’s bright, and he seems to enjoy learning.”

Your heart warms as she praises him, however you dread the ‘but’ that you know comes next.

“However, I’m concerned for his well-being. He got really quiet out of the blue about four years ago, though I’m aware that’s when his father passed away. He came out of his shell bit by bit and began to excel in science and math, and made some good friends, but a couple of months ago, it happened again.”

She adjusts her blouse, sending a sympathetic glance at Sukuna, though he only feels betrayed. Of course, she doesn’t know the mess she’s entered into, but what the hell is he meant to do in response to this? He can only pray his lawyer is as good as Hiromi had mentioned.

No, he knows she’s good. He really needs to pray that the judge didn’t have his mind made up from the beginning. While real trials differ greatly from the scenes he’s accustomed to on television, one thing stands the same between both.

The system is flawed and favors the rich. It favors those with power, and if Sukuna’s being honest, he doesn’t know a damn thing about the capacity of Kaori’s wealth. She always brought money to the relationship with Jin that she worked for, but everything seems different now, and she covered her tracks well. Sukuna hadn’t been able to track down any information on her online despite the status she clearly has.

“I don’t think I’ve heard Choso say a word in the past couple of months,” Ms. Donovan continues. He doesn’t seem to pay attention anymore and his grades are slipping. I know he’s young and he has time, but I’m more concerned for his mental health. On top of that, his attendance was perfect until recently. There have been a couple of weeks this year where he hasn’t shown up at all,” she adds with a frown.

Fuck. That was meant to be a positive break for the kids, and now it’s ammunition against Sukuna’s own case.

“Lastly, Mr. Sukuna has been late to pick them up on multiple occasions. He’s usually only a few minutes late at most, however there was an occasion where he didn’t show up at all.”

“Thank you for addressing your concerns, Ms. Donovan. No further questions.” Kaori’s lawyer takes a seat with an overly pleased look on his face.

The judge leans back in his seat as he addresses the court room. “I’ll allow twenty minutes for discussion and break, before we resume.”

Ms. Harte sighs, running her hands over her face as she faces Sukuna. You can’t hear her words from the viewing area, though you can feel her exasperation.

“That certainly puts a wrench in our argument,” she sighs, tapping the table. “But we still have an angle. Choso’s behavior changed when he became aware of the lawsuit, correct?”

Sukuna, desperate for a break, a cigarette, anything, grunts. “Yeah.”

“Right. We use that, and advise that Kaori’s interference in the childrens’ lives is what’s negatively affecting his health,” she nods, remaining confident. Though Sukuna doesn’t share the same confidence as his mood shifts and fear dwells in the corner of his mind, he agrees with a small nod, putting his faith in her.

You can only shuffle uncomfortably in your seat as Sukuna and Ms. Harte prepare for the cross-examination. Their murmurs are the only sounds filling the silence that clings to your lungs like water, drowning you in uncertainty.

Casting a glance at Kaori, you can’t help but notice the way she confidently crosses her arms over her chest as she discusses details with her own lawyer with a goddamn smile. You wonder if the judge sees through her innocent and sweet grins just as you do, but you fear that hope is misplaced.

Just as you’re sure Ms. Harte and Sukuna suspect something, you can’t help but wonder if there’s manipulation of sorts going on behind the scenes. Everything feels skewed and even if the balance of the court is only off-kilter by a couple of degrees, it’s enough to catch your attention. But what can you do? There’s no way to prove your theory.

While you can understand the judge’s decision to allow an additional witness, something about the whole situation seems to play into the idea that something is wrong and the system is failing before your very eyes.

What’s Kaori’s angle here, anyway? You can understand being sick, but the details don’t add up given what you know about her. But that’s just it, she has an excuse for everything. It’s as though this is nothing more than a routine. Hell, even Ms. Donovan speaks with a practiced air of confidence that makes you wonder if her speech was equally as fake as Kaori’s. Her argument is painfully air-tight.

Is that all this is to Kaori, a game? Are her own children pawns in some scheme you can’t put your finger on? If her love for them is as fake as her love for Sukuna clearly is, then what does she gain out of this?

You can only hope to never be sure as the court returns and the bailiff announces that the hearing is back in session, allowing Sukuna’s counsel to begin the cross-examination.

“Ms. Donovan, good morning,” Ms. Harte stands, greeting the young woman. She returns the lawyer’s greeting with a genuinely sweet smile. “Can you confirm when Choso Itadori’s behaviour took a turn for the worst again?”

Chewing on her lip, the teacher takes a moment to consider the question. “It was early in January. The first week, I believe.”

“Thank you. Can you confirm that the change in his behaviour has been similar to how it was around four years ago?”

The teacher nods. “That’s right.”

“Your Honor, Choso Itadori’s mental health has taken a turn at two pivotal moments in his life. The first is when his father passed away, which coincides with a time where the child thought his mother had chosen not to return. Much like my client, he had no way of knowing his mother was ill,” she points out, pacing somewhat closer to Sukuna. “The first week of January is when Mr. Sukuna informed the children of this trial. He is raising them to be mature and responsible and did not believe that keeping information from them was wise. They’re smart children,” Ms. Harte points out.

Sukuna breathes out a sigh of relief at how strong of an argument his lawyer makes in his favor.

“I would like to advise the court to take into consideration how a revelation of that gravity would affect a child. Each time that my client chose to keep the children back from school was in order to preserve their mental health. While school is important and Mr. Sukuna is well-aware of this himself, he puts an emphasis on taking breaks when necessary and teaching the children to manage their mental health.”

Turning to face the judge, Ms. Harte stands confidently in the center of the room.

“Ms. Itadori herself is responsible for Choso’s declining mental health, whether it was her intention or not,” she claims, leaving the possibility open-ended so as not to make accusations she can’t back up. “Mr. Sukuna has proven he is capable of nurturing Choso’s mental well-being, as detailed by Ms. Donovan. She confirmed that the child’s attitude improved over the months following his father’s passing, a time when only Sukuna was present in their lives. My client cares a great deal about the children and would not allow their health to deteriorate without taking the appropriate steps to care for them.” She bows. “No further questions.”

Judge Martinez directs his attention to the applicant party. “Does the counsel have any further questions?”

“Yes, Your Honor.” Mr. Cahn adjusts his tie as he pushes to his feet. “Ms. Donovan, does the school offer the children any tools to manage their mental health?”

The teacher nods slowly. “We offer a limited range of programs to assist, but Choso hasn’t been receptive to anything.”

“Can you confirm whether the faculty has made any suggestions to Sukuna in order to manage Choso’s mental health?” Mr. Cahn pushes.

With a hum of thought, she clasps her hands as she replies. “When Choso’s grades began slipping, we suggested it may be worth having him evaluated by a mental health professional. I’m not sure if that happened.”

Sukuna stares at his hand as his grip on the arm of his seat tightens. He’d forgotten about that. She had mentioned it, but the thought had burrowed itself into the deep recesses of his mind and quite simply disappeared. He’d had so much on his mind, he’d figured he had time.

Constricting around his lungs, his guilt slices and claws into him once more, dragging the breath from his lungs.

“Thank you. Has Mr. Sukuna ever mentioned his reason for being late on multiple occasions?”

Ms. Donovan shakes her head, shrugging. “I don’t recall, sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Mr. Cahn moves along. “Have you witnessed Mr. Sukuna smoking around the children?”

“On occasion,” she replies without hesitation. “Never on school property, but usually right before class ends.” Sukuna grits his teeth. What bullshit that twenty minutes prior to class ending supposedly counts as smoking around his brothers.

“Thank you,” Kaori’s lawyer nods his head calmly. “One final question.”

“Do you have any reason to believe that Mr. Sukuna could be a negative influence on Choso Itadori?”

Ms. Donovan casts a glance at Sukuna. She seems to consider the question seriously. “I don’t think he’s a driving negative force in Choso’s life,” she replies. Sukuna breathes out a sigh of relief a moment too soon as the teacher continues, “however, I think Choso would benefit greatly from more guided care. In the six years that I’ve been teaching, I’ve never seen a child as withdrawn as he’s become, and he shows no signs of improving.”

“Can you describe his behavior?”

Fiddling with her skirt, Ms. Donovan nods. “Of course. Choso seems to look right through everyone, and often when I think he’s paying attention, it’s not until I address him that he seems to tune in to what I’m saying.” She swallows, shaking her head as she continues. “He turns in homework without issue, but any in-class work goes unfinished. His tests don’t have any rhyme or reason behind what he writes or what options he chooses in multiple choice and he doesn’t show his work, either. I don’t think he’s reading the tests at all.”

Sukuna’s brow furrows as his shortcomings are laid bare for him. He knew Choso’s grades were slipping, but the homework he’d been doing seemed fine whenever Sukuna looked it over. Sure, Ms. Donovan had advised him that she’d like to meet, but he’d pushed her worries away given the gravity of the upcoming trial. He’d been under the impression that he would win, and everything would be fixed.

It’s not that he didn’t heed the teacher’s warning that Choso needed help, but he thought he understood what was going on with his little brother. He wasn’t aware just how deep the roots extended into the little boy’s life.

Failure after failure after failure.

How many times would he need to fail Choso before he learned his lesson?

He’s always known school is important, there’s a reason it took Sukuna so long to give up on college, but he didn’t realize just how much Choso’s behavior in school painted a picture of how Sukuna is as a parent.

The room feels claustrophobic as Sukuna continues to listen to the witness.

“At recess, he’s completely closed himself off from the other students. He eats alone in the classroom and won’t respond to me if I try to engage with him in conversation. He’s always been quiet, but he had a good group of friends. They’ve all expressed their worries to me, as well.”

He stopped talking to his friends? Shit, why is Sukuna even surprised? The kid stopped talking to his brothers. Still, his heart drops.

“On a couple of occasions that he did leave the class- which is rare-” she continues, “I caught a couple of children bullying him. I don’t tolerate that, and have punished them appropriately, but this is new as far as I’m aware. His behavior seems to be making him a target for teasing.”

Sukuna’s shoulders drop to his sides as he stares across the room in wide-eyed disbelief. Choso was being…? Why had he never mentioned it?

Of course Sukuna wants to do right by Yuji, but he carries a deep conviction to do right by Choso. The eldest of his little brothers may not look like him, but Choso is a very obvious product of Sukuna’s shortcomings.

He just didn’t realize how obvious.

Sukuna struggles to remember the last time Choso even smiled. His heart twists as the image he conjures in his mind of his little brother is adorned with a frown and eyes that speak of unspoken battles that Sukuna’s incapable of helping him through.

There was a time, so far into the past now that the tattooed man hardly remembers it anymore, where Choso was much closer in personality to Yuji than to Sukuna. He’d always been a bit more on the calm side than his youngest brother, but he was filled with a genuine curiosity for the world, his eyes so filled with light.

He can’t say for sure when that light dulled and eventually flickered out.

Sukuna’s not sure he ever really came to terms with the fact that at the root of this issue, he became a father at eighteen.

A father.

He’s not sure he really understands the meaning behind the term, in truth. He can’t be sure where the line falls between brother and father, unable to clearly define the roles. The brother in him wants to teach the kids bullying his little brother a lesson. The father in him, whatever part of him that is, is lost. What do you do when the kid you’ve raised is being bullied?

What’s Sukuna meant to do? There’s no handbook for this.

Would Kaori know how to deal with this?

Would Jin have known?

He wonders if Jin’s watching this unfold somewhere on the other side. If he’s as torn up about his fractured family as Sukuna is. How would he feel to know his oldest son dropped out of college and has amounted to nothing more than another bill on an expensive lawyer’s docket?

Sukuna’s guilt towards Jin is misplaced, though, when Choso is sitting back at home. He thinks his remorse regarding his mistakes with Choso set in before he ever really realized what role he’d been forced into playing. It lingered deep in the recesses of his mind, back when he still grappled heavily with his grief, but it wasn’t until he’d processed his situation that he realized just how fucked he’d been.

Choso was so young. Sukuna was so young. Eighteen is old enough to legally be a guardian, but not to drink. What kind of sick law is that? To have that responsibility thrust upon him with no other options left Sukuna as a horribly bitter man suffocating from the weight of the pressure. Rather than asking for help, he chose to drown his brother in his sorrows, to bring them both down.

But could you even call it a choice he made when the reality is that they were both just kids?

There’s no guide for this sort of shit. No YouTube videos, no ‘For Dummies’ book.

What would that even be called? ‘How to Become a Father to Your Little Brothers for Dummies’?

How many times would he need to remind himself that he acted so childish back then because he was a child? Hell, sometimes he thinks he still is. The weight of his immaturity bears down on him harshly when he remembers forgetting to pay taxes just a couple of years ago because March and April were never tax season to him.

They were the beginning of skateboarding season, of paint sticking to walls and basketball with Toji.

Only, Toji wasn’t there anymore.

He just forgot to pay.

The worst memory he carries with him from that time is one that keeps him up at night. Worse than when he snapped at Choso when Kaori didn’t reply, and worse than relying on a kid to help him make it through a house study.

He remembers staring at Choso with resentment, seeing only Kaori in his features. He remembers the discussions with lawyers quickly turning into arguments. Choso was always on the sidelines, listening in. Sukuna had no real regard for him at the time, too caught up in his own issues. He recalls yelling about how he didn’t ask for any of the responsibility, he didn’t ask to be looking after his brothers like this.

“I don’t want them, or any of this shit!”

His words echo in his mind, burrowing themselves into his very being like a parasite.

He shuts his eyes briefly. If only Choso could see him now. See how much this really means to Sukuna. Just once, he wants to do right by his little brother. He can’t erase the past, but he can make up for it with a better future. He can show Choso that his misgivings in the past were a product of the misdirected anger of a delinquent child.

Like every other time he’s stumbled through life and learned as he went, he’ll figure things out this time too. He’ll scare off the bullies with a glare as Choso’s brother, and let Choso know to tell him if it happens again as his parent.

He’ll figure it the fuck out.

He faces straight ahead, his face hardened with resolve.

“Ms. Donovan, did you make Mr. Sukuna aware of the bullying?”

She hesitates, casting a glance in his direction. “This development is recent and I haven’t had the opportunity to, no.”

“Would you say it’s safe to assume that Mr. Sukuna isn’t aware of what goes on with Choso at school?”

She hesitates once more, her face falling as she watches Sukuna from her peripherals. “... Yes.”

“Can you confirm whether or not you’ve attempted to get his attention around your concerns with Choso?”

She nods again. “Yes, I have.”

Sukuna’s resolve shatters before it has the chance to flourish. Even Choso’s teacher thinks Sukuna’s failing.

As much as he wants to say he stands on equal footing with Kaori, fear crawls up his spine and grips him by the throat.

Is he losing?

He can’t lose, by all accounts he’s been there, he’s the living and breathing proof of what it means to care for someone. It doesn’t matter how many mistakes he’s made, he’s still learning. Maybe he is young, maybe he is inexperienced, maybe Choso needs more help than Sukuna’s been giving him, but he can figure that shit out.

It’s true that Sukuna didn’t ask for this responsibility. He didn’t want it. But he’ll fight for it. He’ll fiercely protect the family he recognizes now as the most important part of his life. The people who each hold pieces of him and make him who he is. Choso, and Yuji. His eyes trail back slowly to you, seated on the edge of your chair.

You look gorgeous. Even with your brow furrowed in concern and fear that mirrors his own, you look flawless. You hold a piece of him, too. A piece that he can’t bear to live without, for fear that he might completely fall apart.

He wants to scream from the top of his lungs that every person here is a damn fool if they believe any of Kaori’s words. He wants to list every single misdemeanor that she did that he could never tell his dad about. Yet, every single time he tries to lead the conversation in the direction that Kaori isn’t all she seems, they have some sort of concrete proof or evidence to say otherwise.

It’s fucked, and all Sukuna can do now is pray to whatever god will listen. His heart is in this and that should be what matters, because Kaori’s isn’t. If it’s obvious to him, it’s obvious to the judge. He has to cast aside his concerns of outside manipulation of the judge, because this is all he has.

“No further questions, Your Honor.”

As the bailiff dismisses the final witness, the courtroom becomes deathly silent. It penetrates through Sukuna like a banshee, ringing loudly in his ears. As closing arguments finally begin and Mr. Cahn rises, his words are a blur to Sukuna. His, Ms. Harte’s. They’re all the same, reiterating the points they’ve gone over already and emphasizing the importance of this case. Mr. Cahn makes a point that there’s a reason a rush was placed on this case, as Choso can only be put through so much, but Ms. Harte easily refutes that once this case is over, Choso will find his footing in the world once more.

As Judge Martinez requests a moment to consider his notes before delivering a decision, the silence bears down further on Sukuna from all sides. It threatens to suffocate him, clawing at his insides as the taste of iron floods his mouth when he bites down on his tongue a bit too hard.

He’s kept his fears so well-masked over the course of the past hour that his body seems to burst as he feels his hands physically shivering in his lap. It’s not cold in the room, if anything the sweat rolling down his jaw from his temple should spell out just how warm the room really is.

He’d spent so many days preparing for this moment, so many hours on the phone with telecommunications companies for phone logs, putting in extra work to get letters from his employers, and pulling files out from the darkest depths of closets to prove anything.

Had this been a couple of years ago, he’s not even sure if he could have managed to get the files. Not because he wouldn’t have cared or wanted to, but because the sight of his father’s obituary tucked among all his bills would have sent Sukuna spiralling. He’s come so far over the past few years, he can’t let it be for nothing.

How had it come to this, in the first place?

When would karma come for Kaori like it had so often haunted Sukuna?

His attention snaps to the judge as the man addresses the room again. “I have carefully read through all of the provided evidence. After considering this and the testimonies from witnesses of both parties, I have reached a decision that I believe is in the best interest of the children and their mental well-being.”

Their mental well-being? Sukuna’s heart drops. No.

“I would like to start by acknowledging how much love is clearly being put on display for these children. I can very clearly see that both parties care greatly for them. My greatest consideration today will be to ensure the long-standing welfare of the children and ensure they have what they need in order to flourish int he future.”

On the edge of his seat, Sukuna clings to the table with white knuckles. This can’t happen. He has to interrupt.

“With that in mind, the decision I have made today is one that I feel will allow the children to heal from any prior transgressions. Concerns on both sides have been noted, and I believe both parties today will be able to understand where my decision is coming from.”

Sukuna’s gaze whips towards Ms. Harte, whose expression is grave. She knows too. He has to say something. He has to-

“The applicant, as the biological mother of Choso and Yuji Itadori will be granted sole guardianship. While I understand the applicant placed a rush on this trial, I do not believe that Mr. Sukuna places the children in any immediate danger and as both their half-brother and prior guardian, he will retain visitation rights. To allow the children a safe and easy transition, this will be effective as of Monday next week.”

“No! She doesn’t fucking care!” Sukuna barks in a desperate plea, losing control as he finally stands.

The bailiff stands immediately. “Mr. Sukuna! Order, please,” she requests, matching his fervor with confidence.

With venomous intent, he opens his mouth, but Ms. Harte places a hand on his forearm to catch his attention. “Please sit, Sukuna. I’ll work through this with you.”

Surely she has cause for a retrial or an appeal or something, right? He has to put his belief in her and her abilities right now, because it might damn be all he has left.

As he takes a seat, his vision closes in on him. White from all edges, he shuts his eyes and rubs harshly at them. The ringing in his ears is overbearing, his throat closing up on him as he struggles to sit still.

The trial continues on without him as Ms. Harte makes decisions on his behalf for the handover of the children on Monday morning. Sukuna can’t make out a single word being said. It’s nothing more than jumbled and broken letters, gibberish in his mind.

He feared this outcome so heavily, yet it never seemed like it could be a possibility. What happened here that Kaori had gotten away with so much deception? Where had these supposed hospital records come from?

What kind of dumbass is this judge? Did Kaori pay him?

On paper, the case was always tough, but the more evidence he pulled up, the more it leaned in his favor. Yet with each piece of evidence he compiled, Kaori had something up her sleeve to throw the balance off.

Would he spend a lifetime wondering what went wrong?

Kaori would never let him visit no matter his rights, would he not see Choso for six years? Would it be thirteen years before he sees Yuji again? Surely not, his lawyer has to figure something out. He’ll drain every penny he has to make it happen. He can’t let this happen.

He can’t fail Choso again.

And yet, he already has.

You sniffle from behind Sukuna, though he doesn’t move, he doesn’t seem to hear it. You want just as badly as he surely does to reverse the decision, to fight more, fight harder if you can, but it’s to no avail. You’re at a complete and utter loss. Your head feels horribly light as the decision truly sets in.

The bailiff adjourns the court, advising an exit of the room.

Wiping tears from your eyes and inhaling sharply, you cling tightly to the bracelets that round your wrist, forced to watch in horror as Sukuna stands abruptly, stumbling out of his chair with the scraping of wood across the floor. He clutches at his chest, anger ablaze in his eyes as he slams out the door while Ms. Harte attempts to reach out to him.

Your lips part as you call after Sukuna as well, but he’s gone before it ever reaches him. Whether he’s going to throw his unsuspecting lighter into another wall or to gasp for air out in the cool morning, you can’t say for sure, but one thing’s for certain.

It took Kaori only one hour and twenty four minutes to rip whatever remained of your dear friend to pieces.

Another tear rolls down your cheek and you find yourself choking back a sob as you hide your face on the way out.

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

❦ a/n ; forgive me :')

trust, i promise this series will have a happy ending <33 i'm a sucker for angst though and you guys are subject to my whims 🙂‍↕️ LMAO anyway regardless of the angst and devastation, i really hope everyone is still enjoying the series! ty all for sticking with me, there's still much more to come! i never could have anticipated how long this series would be but i'm super grateful to be able to share it with you all

shoutout again to all the lovely and amazing people who helped me with the legal drama as well, it's been a huge help! if you see any legal process errors, no you didn't ;)

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

@yenayaps @kunascutie @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @cuntyji @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki @gojodickbig

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@privthemis @captainsarcasmandsass @ryomeowie @vitoshi @kunasthiast

@axxk17 @toratsue @bluestbleu @yuji-itadori-fave @totallygyomeiswife

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

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sturniqlo · 7 months ago

Text

PRETTY GIRL- MATT STURN

summary: where matt slides into singer!y/ns dms not knowing she would respond back, and it leads into something more.

cw: cursing, FLUFF; sweet messages, first meeting, honeymoon stage, kissing, ANGST(very little); second thoughts on relationship(?), past relationship issues, insecurity of not being good enough, social media hate

an: i just love fics where reader is a famous singer :) | very fast paced timeline | as usual, not proofread

masterlist | join my taglist

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

"said you're not in my time zone, but you wanna be."- bed chem, s.c

matthew.sturniolo 12:47am

hi, you're like really pretty :)

Matt exits out of the dm and scrolls on tiktok for the remainder of the night. He shuts off his phone completely forgetting about the message he had sent to Y/n. There was no way she would respond. Y/n was a famous singer with millions of more followers than him. He had been following her for sometime now, as he had discovered a song- many songs- he really likes from her. Matt also saw his big of a fan Nick was, which introduced him to his favorite songs.

Y/n was currently in New York finding some inspiration from her upcoming album. Usually she resides in LA but she loves being in New York while she writes. It's more homey to her, it was fall after all, her favorite season, the leaves were turning orange and falling off of their branches, landing on sidewalks all over the city, the weather was chillier, she loved it. Back in LA it was many degrees hotter, she couldn't wear her cute cardigans without sweating.

The next morning, Matt woke up to a loud commotion coming from the kitchen which was very close to his room. Groggily he came out of his room and saw his brothers arguing. "I hid the last bagel for a reason because I was going to fucking eat it this morning." Nick angrily crumples up the empty bag the bagel was in. "How was I supposed to know?" Chris argues back, taking a bite of the bagel.

"Do you guys mind? I was sleeping peacefully and I got woken up to you two arguing over a fucking bagel." Matt scoffs. He goes back into his room and shuts the door. He rolls his eyes and walks over to his bed where his phone is laying. As it turns on, he sees a instagram notification. Unlocking it with his face id, he sees Y/n replied to his message. "Holy-" He cuts himself off.

y/n/y/l/n 2:47pm

thank you! you're cute yourself ;)

sorry for the late response it was 3 am when you dmed me haha!

Matt stared at the message opened message with his mouth slightly open. you're cute yourself? He was about to faint. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard thinking about what he was going to say next.

matthew.sturniolo 11:49am

holy shit you actually responded... also thank you :))

sounds like you're three hours ahead of me??

y/n/y/l/n 2:50pm

hahaha

i believe so. i'm currently in new york, i'm assuming you're in the west coast? la possibly?

She responded quickly and Matt's heartbeat only got quicker.

Y/n had spent her morning bright and early. She woke up at around seven am and did her morning which consisted of her morning shower, skincare routine. She ate a bowl of strawberries and blueberries while she answered some emails. About an hour after sending emails and responding to important messages she went out for breakfast.

At her favorite cafe, she ordered her usual bagel and iced coffee and sat down by the window. She ate her breakfast and stared out the window watching people walk by going about their morning. A few fans spotted her as she was leaving so she took some pictures with them. "Excuse me, Y/n?" A soft shy voice said as she exited the bagel shop. She looked back and saw two teenage girls nervously smiling.

"Hey, guys!" She gasped, letting her wired headphones hang. "Hi, we- we uh. Sorry I'm so nervous." Y/n smiled. "Don't be nervous. I promise you it's okay." She giggled and walked closed to them. "Okay, thank you." The one girl sighed in relief. The three of them made a ten minute long conversation. "We're so sorry for taking your time!" One of them gasps realizing how long they've been talking for. "Don't worry about it, it's okay."

Y/n returned to her apartment at around twelve and cleaned up a bit. She'd been in New York for about two weeks now. She took a quick shower and chilled on her phone for a bit. Here and there she liked to go through her instagram dms and respond to some fans. As she was scrolling through, she saw that Matt has dmed her. Y/n has known about the triplets for sometime now, she has watched a couple of their youtube video. And to be honest, Matt had caught her eye those couple of times.

She blushed, she opened the dm and read the message fully. It was sent about eleven hours ago. She responded anyways and she was bold enough to send a second message. Exiting out quickly and scrolled and responded back to some fans who just wanted to say hi or wanted some advice.

Two minutes later, a notification from Matt appeared at the top of her screen. She smiled and opened it right away responding quickly, Matt responded seconds later.

matthew.sturniolo

i am

also, new york? i bet it's beautiful out there now that it's fall time

y/n/y/l/n

it's really is! have you ever been out here?

matthew.sturniolo

yeah, a couple of times actually!

are you there permanently?

y/n/y/l/n

nope, just here to get some writing done :))

matthew.sturniolo

new music im assuming?

y/n/y/l/n

can't say tooo much but yess

Over the few weeks, the two messaged each other everyday and eventually exchanged numbers. As much as Matt wanted to tell his brothers. He wanted to keep his 'relationship' with her hidden for a while and be in this little bubble. Matt really enjoyed messaging her and talking with her on the phone that he asked her if she would be up to the idea of talking romantically and see where it would lead them to. Obviously she said yes.

Y/n had never felt like this, Matt was amazing to say the least and she hasn't even met him. Every morning when she would wake up, a good morning message from Matt would be waiting for her. He'd send her little messages throughout the day when he wasn't filming and he calls her when he knows she's about to go to bed. Yeah, she's had her boyfriends here and there but they were nothing like Matt.

Her past relationships were so public from the beginning to the end they almost felt forced. Anytime they would go out there was always a new article and new pictures about it. There were rumors, allegations, and opinions. And she never dated the best people.

matt

hi pretty girl :)

y/n

hi pretty boyyy

matt

are you busy?

y/n

for you? neverrr

matt

okay, i'm calling you now!

Before Y/n could even type out a response her phone rang in her hands with Matt's contact filling her screen. She immediately answered. "Hi Matt." She put him on speaker. "Hi, pretty lady. How's the writing going?" He asks her. "It's.. going. I can't really think of anything right now, so I'm taking a break." Y/n brings her knees up to her chest and scoots her writing book away from her.

"Anyways, what have you been up to?" She says, pressing the facetime button. He answers it right away. "Nothing much, me and my brothers just finished filming a video." He brings his face into view. "Sounds fun, what'd you guys film?" She smiles. "Just a car video talking about random things."

They talked more for some time until someone interrupted Matt's rant by barging into his room. "And then- do you not know how to knock?" He scolded whoever came in. "Who are you talking to?" She heard Nicks voice. "Don't worry about it, what do you want." Matt huffs. Y/n noticed how he tilts his phone away from Nicks view. "Can you take me to-" Matt cuts him off.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll take you. Shoo now." He motions his hand for Nick to leave so he can keep talking to Y/n. A small giggle leaves Y/n and Matt looks at her through the phone and she gasps. Nick must've heard her because he also gasps. "Matt! Are you talking to a girl?" His phone is suddenly snatched from his grip.

Nick looks at the screen and Y/n is with wide eyes and a slight open mouth due to her being shocked of what's happening. Y/n knew that Matt wanted to keep this to himself, as well as her. "Oh.. my god." Nick said and quickly gave the phone back to Matt when he saw who it was. Y/n heard Matt's door close and started laughing, so did Matt. "Holy fuck."

"I'm going to let you go, I need to deal with Nick. I'll call you later." He smiled and waved at her. "Okay, let me know how it goes." She waved back.

"Nick?" Matt walks out of his room. "You, as in Matthew Sturniolo, my triplet brother, are talking to the Y/n. As in the famous singer. Fucking Grammy award winning Y/n!" Nick yelled with his eyes wide open. Y/n was probably- no, is- Nicks favorite artist. He couldn't belive it. "Yes, Nick. Is that so hard to believe?" Matt giggles. "Motherfucker yes! How did you of all people bag her?!" "I'm offended?" Matt furrowed his eyebrows.

Matt goes to tell Nick how everything had happened. "Oh my god, I can't believe this!" Nick yelled into his hands. "What's going on?" Chris comes up his set of stairs. "You'll never believe it!" Nick says. Matt- actually Nick- catches Chris up with everything he missed. "Matt, I've never realized how much game you have."

After everyone - Nick- calmed down, they decided to sit and watch a show.

y/n

i'm assuming everything went well?

matt

yes, nick had a moment of starstruckness i guess, but it went well in general

y/n

omgg, he is so me

will he be okay with me following him?"

matt

pls do, i would kill to see his reaction

y/n

okok

Y/n giggled as she went to her instagram and searched up Nicks username and followed him. Across the country, Matt was secretly recording Nick who was unintentionally scrolling on instagram. "No fucking way! She- she just followed me." Nick flipped his phone to Matt. "She just followed me too!" Chris jumped up from his spot on the couch.

matt

*video attachment*

chris was a plus

y/n

hahaha

one month later

"Alright, we have this shirt with these jeans or," Y/n holds up a potential outfit and shows Matt over facetime. "Ok, I like that one." He nods. "There's also this dress." She holds up the material. "That's the one. I like that one." Matt points and she giggles. "Okay." She leaves the frame and comes back in once she's changed into her outfit.

"It's four over in LA right? I still get a bit confused over timezones." She says as she applies her eyeliner. "Yeah, and it's seven for you, correct?" Matt watches intently as she does he makeup. "Mhm, I have to leave in like forty minutes." Tonight she was going to an album release party for her friend, Conan.

"I would love to be in your timezone. Makes it easier to talk to you." Y/n smiles at an idea that popped up in her head. "Would you -I don't know- maybe want to fly out here? I- you don't have to, but it's just an idea." She rambles a bit. "I'd love to actually. But, I'd have to talk to my brothers first, not that I need their approval or anything, just I'm not sure if they'd want to come." He says.

"You could bring them too. It'd be fun either way." She says. As much as Matt loves traveling with his brothers, he'd appreciate it if this trip was just about the two of them. It's be their first meeting after all. "I hope this plans out well, I really want to meet you, officially."

"I'm tryin' to go to New York." Matt blurts out randomly. He had finished his call with Y/n about two hours ago and all he thought about was possibly getting to meet Y/n and spend sometime with her. "Matt flying across the country for a girl? Who would've thought." Chris says. "Shut up." Matt rolls his eyes. "Do you guys want to go? Or?" He says.

Both Nick and Chris looks at each other and shake their head. As much as Nick wanted to go and possibly meet Y/n, he wanted Matt to have his moment. "Nah, we'll let you enjoy your time with her." Nick says and Matt dramatically sighs in relief. "Thank god! I didn't want to take you guys anyways." Nick gasped. "You know what, i'm second thought." Matt shook his head. "Nope, you made up your mind."

matt

guess who's going to new york :D

y/n

no wayy?!? i'm so excited!!!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, clairo, matthew.sturniolo, jennaortega, nicolassturniolo and 825,733 others

y/n/y/l/n: i am new york, new york is me

view all 9,372 comments

jennaortega: y/n in new york>>>

| y/n/y/l/n: you get it 🙂‍↕️

y/nfan57: it's y/n's season

y/nfan19: matt liked...

| loser4: okay? so did nick?

sadiesink_: you're so cool

matthew.sturniolo: you

| y/n/y/l/n: me

two weeks later

"I'm by the taxi pickup." Y/n said on the phone to Matt who was somewhere inside the airport. "Is there a sign or something?" Matt was having a hard time looking for the right place. "Uhm... oh yeah, there's a bright green sign that says taxi only. It's pretty big so you can't really miss it." She let out a breathy laugh. "I see it, and I see you." Y/n turned, but still couldn't see him. "Other way, pretty girl." She turned the opposite way and saw him.

"Matt!" She squealed, and ran to him as he dragged his suitcase behind with a huge smile on his face. "Y/n!" He let go of his suitcase and she jumped in his arms. "Oh my god! I can't believe you're actually here!" She whispered into his neck. "I can't believe it either." He says and she pulls away from his neck at looks at him. "You're even prettier in person." She blushes. "Stop it! I could say the same thing about you." She places her feet back on the ground. "How was your flight?" She asks. "It was good, except for the guy snoring next to me."

They arrived at Matt's hotel, and he settled in before going out for lunch together. "Okay, my favorite spot to get lunch is here." She says and Matt opens the door for her. "Thank you, Matt." Matt smiles. For the three- almost four hours they've been together, it all felt natural, as if they've known each other for years.

"What do you usually get?" He puts his arm around her shoulders and she smiles at the action. "I usually get the chicken wrap and a mango lemonade." She looks up at him. "I'll get the same." He nods and kisses her forehead. See, natural.

"What do you think?" Y/n covers her mouth as she speaks through a mouthful of her wrap. "It's very good, you weren't lying." Matt says as he goes in for another bite.

For the rest of the day, they walked around the city hand in hand, Matt pointing out at certain billboards in time square.

Later that night, they returned to Matt's hotel where Y/n said goodnight and went home. But, not without a kiss. A first kiss. "I hope you had fun today." She says as she walks towards the door. "Trust me I did. Thank you for today." He says, following behind her. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow, Matt." Y/n smiles. "For sure." He unhesitatingly grabs her jaw and plants his lips on hers with a gentle kiss.

The room was soon filled with the soft smacking sounds of their lips intertwining with each others. Soon enough her arms ended up wrapped around his neck, with her back against the door and Matt's arms holding her hips. A couple of moments later, they both pulled back gasping for air. "Wow, I- mmph!" Matt was cut off by Y/n putting her lips back on his.

"Okay, I should- I should go now." Y/n pulls away and giggles. Both of them out of breath and their lips red and swollen. "Okay, I'll see you tomorrow."

The next day, the two of them went out for breakfast and were especially giddy the whole day, sharing kisses, holding hands and small touches. "So, this one is- Matt?" Y/n stops herself. "Yeah, yup. Mhm." He says. "You weren't paying attention were you?" He breaks out in a laugh and shakes his head. "Sorry, but you're just really fucking pretty." Her cheeks redden up by the compliment.

"Matt!" He grabs her chin and kisses her. "Okay, I'll listen this time, for real."

It was now eight pm and Matt's hand was wrapped around her shoulders as usual. As they walked in a comfortable silence, Y/n heard a series of whispers behind them. Her first reaction was to look back, and as she did she saw a flash of a phone.

"Oh my god." Y/n mutters under her breath. "C'mon Matt, let's go." She grabs onto his arm and leads him to the opposite way of the stranger. Matt had noticed the person taking the picture as he also turned his head a little bit after Y/n did and saw how her mood had changed.

"Hey, you okay? You've been pretty quiet." Y/n stands in front of Matt once they've entered her apartment, moving bits of his hair that covers his eyes. "Mhm." He hums. "Matt, you can talk to me. Is it what happened with the person who took the picture?" Matt looked away from her. She had gotten it right. "Matt," She sighs, pouting slightly. "I- are you having second thoughts about this? I just- I don't know." He says. "Hey, no, of course not! It's just- I really like this little bubble we're in right now, with no unwanted opinions." She pauses before continuing on.

"And I know I shouldn't care about what people say about us or anything, but it gets to me sometimes. With my past relationships I feel like the media got involved so much that it ruined them, and- and I don't want that to happen with us. I really like you" She interlocks their hands together. "I really like you too." He gives her a soft smile before pulling her in for a kiss. "Are you okay now? Did I clear something's up." He nods. "Yes, thank you for letting me know. I really appreciate it."

Y/n was right, the internet does have a lot of opinions. After Matt had left Y/n's apartment, even though she had told him to stay, Matt did it nightly call to his brothers before going to bed. When he had woken up in the morning, he went on social media and saw tiktok about the picture and another picture that they didn't know of and and there were many negative comments about his and Y/n's relationship. Specifically about him.

y/nsoulmate: broo... how is she going to go from dating a famous singer/actor to a youtuber💀

soulmatey/n: she should get someone better

ilivefory/n: dare i say it, but she downgraded

slutniolo: why is he dating her? isn't she on her tenth relationship?

y/nismygf: y/n, matt, if you're seeing this just know twitter is rooting and happy for you guys! tiktok police is annoying!!!!!

y/nismommy: he isn't it for her 🤷

prettyy/n: he could never treat her like danny did.. oop

ang3ly/n: y/n, baby, leave b4 u can, he's just going to use u🥴

everythingy/n: not a youtuber

y/nsgirl: why is everyone being so negative? this isn't your guys' relationship to judge or comment on. get a job, get a life!

Although the last comment made him chuckles a bit, the other comments hurt him. Were they right? Yeah, he wasn't on her level of famousness, but was it such a big deal? His phone suddenly rang in his hold as he was too deep in his thoughts. It was a call from Nick. He answered. "Good morning sunshine!" Nick said. "Why are you up so early? Isn't it six am over there?" Matt says. "I haven't slept actually. It's kind of worrying me." Nick laughed as he got comfy on his bed.

"I saw the pictures. How're you guys feeling about it?" Great, something he didn't want to think about right now. "I don't know? She wasn't the happiest when she caught that one person taking a picture, but she gave me her reasons and it was understandable. I didn't realize it at first, but she was totally right. The internet can be harsh, holy shit." Nick furrowed his eyebrows. "What do you mean?" Matt sighed and got up to sit against his headboard.

"I saw a video and the comments were a bunch of people saying that she shouldn't be with me because i'm not on her level of success, I guess, and that she also downgraded. I mean, what if they're right? What if I'm not good enough for her?" Nick felt bad, he hated that the internet was making Matt have second thoughts about his developing relationship. "Don't listen to them Matt, they're just a bunch of losers. And, you are more than enough for her. I was called her earlier today, yesterday I guess, and she was so excited to tell me what she had planned for you two. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now." Nick reassured him.

As Matt got ready, he thought of what Nick had said. She's in deep and so are you, I can see it. There's no way you can back out now. He was right, he is in deep. Matt knew Y/n was going back to LA a week after he was. They'd have all the time in the world to hang out. However, he wanted to be hers.

He was going to ask her today.

"Hi, pretty girl." He kissed forehead once she let him in. "Hi, how was your morning." She closed and locked the door behind him. "It was good, how about yours." They walked into her bedroom so she could continue getting ready for the day. "I had an early morning." She sighs. "I had a last minute meeting, luckily it was short and over zoom." She wraps her arms around Matt. "Hi." Y/n whispers. "Hi." He giggles and she leans up to kiss him.

"Okay- shit!" Matt stumbles a bit to the side with the bike. It was a couple of hours later and Y/n and Matt decided to rent bikes and bike around the city for a bit before heading to their planned picnic Y/n really liked to go to. "Why is it so heavy?" He says, trying to put the bike up straight. "They're so heavy for no reason, the amount of times I've fallen to the side with it is ridiculous." She starts to peddle slowly, waiting for Matt to catch up. A folded blanket is held by the basket that is on the bike.

"Are you sure you can ride the bike and carry the picnic basket at the same time?" She asks him. "I'm sure, just can't go too fast or I'll bust my shit." They rode around for thirty minutes sight seeing before heading to the park. "This looks like a nice spot." Matt pointed out an empty spot near a tree. "Okay, I'll lay out the blanket." Y/n unfolded the blanket and carefully placed it down on the grass.

"So, you're going to be in LA a week after I go back, right?" Matt says as he sips on his water bottle Y/n had packed. "Mhm, the twenty fifth. We'll finally be in the same place permanently. I'd love to hangout more with you." She smiles at him. "About that, I actually had a question for you." He caps his water and places it down next to him, moving his body to face her. "Oh, okay."

"Can I be yours, pretty girl? Officially yours." She gasps lightly and breaks into a huge smile. "You were always mine, pretty boy."

1K notes · View notes

kamaluhkhan · 1 year ago

Text

THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window.

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer.

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.”

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous.

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?”

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in.

“what? n-no!”

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you.

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp.

it just didn't seem fair.

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods.

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest.

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest.

every demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself.

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?”

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching.

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.”

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.”

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze.

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too.

“she deserved more.”

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there.

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do.

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise.

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.”

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm.

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day.

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.”

luke bristled at your nickname for him.

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go.

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in.

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly.

the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again.

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down.

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse.

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled.

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.”

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning.

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone?

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one.

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward."

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you.

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp.

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready.

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him.

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through.

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him.

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power.

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood.

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased.

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess.

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson.

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?”

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken.

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.”

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer.

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too.

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time.

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more.

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips.

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die.

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy.

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away.

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze.

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse.

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse.

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.”

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality.

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie.

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat.

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him.

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for.

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did.

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it.

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair.

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates.

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes.

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.”

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes.

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that.

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you.

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?”

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush.

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….”

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right.

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for.

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached.

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?”

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?”

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him.

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.”

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said.

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow.

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air.

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch.

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion.

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp.

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him.

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment.

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door.

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire.

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god.

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy.

everything was falling into place.

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you.

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles.

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist.

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him.

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey.

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy.

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?”

“they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true.

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him.

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it.

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down.

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet.

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog.

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more.

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously.

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated.

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind.

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated.

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well.

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.”

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe!

would you hate him, if you knew?

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage.

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?”

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns.

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.”

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment.

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips.

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe.

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his.

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath.

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time.

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted.

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor.

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother.

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock.

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.”

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being.

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.”

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone. we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance.

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor.

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape.

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice.

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head.

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life.

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

#this is my baby fr #really feeling the tragic hero vibe down to my core #will prob do a part 2 from reader's POV!#ofc inspired by get him back! bc nemesis!reader....#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo series #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan angst #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson and the olympians #luke castellan smut #saf writes #Spotify

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skyrigel · 11 months ago

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You are in love 11 | B.B

Part 1 of " You are in love "

Pairing: Benedict bridgerton x best friend! Reader

Warning: smut, 18+, p in v ( rough), fingering, fluffy fluff, Idiots in love, might have used whore, use of f word( alot) double orgasm, teasing, inexperienced! Reader, horny! Reader

Rigel's note 🪩: aftermath of my " You are in love 1 ", this is the confrontation and smut part of the request. My cow is so angry at me—i write so cringe sometimes, 10 points to your house if you find 1989 ref other than title.

You can hear it in the silence...

It was only a minute after you laid in your bed, you heard it, a soft thud against your window followed by another.

Your heart dreaded because it wasn't the first time your best friend had thrown rocks at your window, first time—when he called you a duck in front of lord Ivor, a childhood memory and second when he was bored so he thought calling upon his fairer sex friend would be the best choice and another time—

This particular one was very violent against the glass and for a moment you wondered if it would break, you pushed the blankets aside, feeling the night chill settle in your bones as you pulled your night gown closer.

Your feet touched the cold floor, chill reaching up your spine as you dragged yourself to the window and there he was.

Basking under the moonlight and ever so beautiful, his cheeks flushed like he had run miles and his heart heaving, his eyes widened at your silhouette and a deep sigh escaped just after a smile took refuge on his lips, those treacherous lips.

You opened the window, he dropped the pebble.

" Benedict ! " You screamed whispered down at him, his smile grew but his expressions were pained, like he was deeply confused.

" Can we talk ? " It was loud and clear, echoing in the dark, he wasn't drunk but there was something very intoxicating about him.

You face palmed, feeling your heart sink because you still haven't forget the warm tingling, still haven't forgotten the way your heart cart wheeled along with everything inside you, crawling it's way to Benedict.

Every friendly castle crumbling in mere moments, just by remembering how tenderly his mouth moved when he was protecting you and how tenderly it would be to have it against your—

" Please, please, please, " He chanted, not attempting to keep it low, then he dropped to his knees and even in the dark you couldn't mistake the silvery bead, those were tears.

" Give me one chance, let me talk, let me—"

" I am coming ! " You leaned across the sill, telling him shush with your fingers as you backed away, running out of your room but tiptoeing all right, missing the third step because it creaked and opening the back door soundlessly to your secret gardens.

Despite the fear of getting caught and chill that was swirling, your own heart wasn't being much help, your face grew warm at the mere sight of him and let alone the other embarassing things that he did to you, just by existing.

" Are you mad ? " You stomped your feet across him, crossing your arms as he looked up, his knees penetrating in grass, like he was begging for all of his sins, like you were something to worship, like a false god.

Benedict's eyes were red in the moonish glow, he was radiating, he was crying, he was so very beautiful.

" You are really mad Benedict ! Go home, we will talk tomorrow—"

" I thought i lost you." He said, it was more of a cry but you were too baffled to form words anymore. He sniffed.

" I thought i would never see you again...when I lost you...my heart..my heart was the closest to exploding." He said, clutching his heart as his lips parted in a gasp. It was paining him but it pained you all the same.

" Oh Benedict." You whispered, your hand inevitably caressing his cheek as he shaked his head profusely.

" You don't understand how much... fuck...I came here all the way thinking you would be gone somewhere i couldn't follow...like i fucked everything again—"

" You ran all the way here ?! " You garbbed his chin, you knew it would hurt but you needed to know this.

" That's not the point." He avoided your gaze but you jerked him right up, eye to eye.

" Are you fucking mad Benedict ?! Are you drunk ? " You leaned to sniff his mouth but he only reeked of the few lemonade he downed with you.

" I...no...I am sorry." Benedict swallowed hard, his adam rolled and readjusted again and the warmness was there again, spreading through the creaks of your bones.

" That was really stupid Benedict." You said softly, you couldn't imagine what whistledown would write if she had seen him running wild.

" I know, I know...it just seemed right to me, like I couldn't stop myself even if I tried but I am sorry, i don't wanna lose you, and I meant it all, truly and completely." Benedict said, his hand grabbing your wrist like you would run away and leave him.

" Benedict we aren't talking about running..?"

Benedict's brow raised as he worried his jaw, his eyes dazed as they lingered on your lips more than it was approved by.

" I am talking about.. about my defending you but I swear I wasn't trying to be hero or some knight in shining armour, i just wanted to be there like you were always for me." He inhaled sharply, you were knocked out of your breath as you tried to breathe and speak and failing in both.

" I know..I know I have embarassed you deeply and i am so sorry, i am—"

" Benedict shut up." You yanked your hand away from his grip, breathing harder as he watched grimly, not making a sound.

" That..." You bited your lip, " I'm..." Your heart was beating too fast and your cheeks deepened in colour as you turned to him.

" Hot." You said finally, gripping your night gown as your knuckles went white, all blood rushing to your face and places too holy.

" You're hot ? " Benedict tried but a grin tiptoed it's way and it was so beautiful across his face that you wanted to feel it against your own lips. Shut up !

" What you did for me Benedict...it was...it was the hottest thing you ever did...you were..oh my god...you were on fire." You closed your eyes, feeling yourself vibrate throughout your body with just his heavy gaze.

" I thought," he recovered his slackened jaw, smiling like a star,", i embarassed you."

" You could never ! " You shaked your head, taking a step, not much, it was enough.

" And the time I called you a duckling? " He laughed, sound rich and melodic and that's how you loved him the most, free and feral.

" Well you could be an idiot sometimes." You chuckled softly, taking a deep breath as Benedict outstretched his hand.

" I know, I know...I am such an idiot and that's why I need you, I want you by my side." He said earnestly, you took his hand as he pulled you closer.

" This...it has been a torment all this time." He whispered it lowly, voice heavy as he kissed each word on your knuckles, your brain was dead in it's wake.

" Benedict." You exhaled, this would ruin you, there would be no coming back.

" I watched you leave and i...I thought what would become of me and there was only one answer—nothing, there's no me without you. I can't imagine a life where it's not us." He brought your palm closer to his lips, pressing them softly, inking each syllable.

" Benedict." You shaked your head because you would do something very stupid if he didn't stop, Benedict stood up, his knees buckling and making an odd sound.

" So you must know, it can't wait anymore because I can't keep it in, it's killing me." Oh how much it was killing you, little did he know, You felt the moment stop when he leaned down, his breath heavy on your cheek as his eyes darted to you.

" You're my best friend." He said, and you knew what it was, he is in love.

Then he kissed you, soft warm lips against yours and it was only a moment before he pulled away.

" I am sorry...fuck—"

" Don't ever apologise for that ! " You pulled him by his collar, crashing your lips again like waves meeting the shore, it was like your soul was crawling out for Benedict and nothing else mattered.

A moan escaped his mouth and your whole body shuddered at the sound he was making, those sound that drowned in your own mouth as your devoured him, you felt him grinning against you and oh you could die, In silent screams and even in your wildest dreams, you never dreamt of this.

Breathless, you spared a moment and he looked so beautiful with his swollen kissed lips beaming up with your saliva. Your.

" I... Benedict...more." your cheeks blazed, you were damn sure your ears were red because Benedict looked like he was about to die, his grin splitting his whole face in half.

" This..it was perfect ! " He said, dipping down to kiss your cheek, you thought he would pull away but he then rested his forehead against yours, your breathing leveling with his in synchronise. It felt real, all of it.

He pulled you by your waist, nose bumping in yours.

" I want to give you everything..." He breathed, " everything that you want."

" I want it Benedict." You were only half aware of the thing you wanted from him, perhaps to entwine your souls together, you weren't sure but this torment was too much.

His thumb caressed your lips and then your jaw, making stars and circles as he whispered in a amused little voice.

" We must wait—" you kissed him, hard on his mouth and you were sure someone's tooth was chipped but it melted the pain as soon as his mouth parted for you, his tongue swiping across your lower lip like a Eden's feather.

You were holding his face like it was your life support and he was too holding you back like you were his most precious treasure, his hands were slowly progressing up your thigh, your night gown sliding up. He stopped, you stopped tugging at his hair and felt him whine against your mouth, nipping in response. You guided his hand to your slick as oil womanhood, he gasped against you.

His eyes were shining brighter than every star that hanged high.

" Oh." His fingers touched you and you thought you would die just there, moaning like you never had.

" You are...you are wet." He said, his cheeks deepening in heat and colour, his smile becoming a grin as your eyes dazed.

" Fuck ! " You moaned, arching back when he swiped his one long finger against you, Benedict moaned just the same.

" Oh lord...oh lord..oh fucking lord." Benedict groaned, you were sure he smiled wickedly before his finger penetrated inside you.

The coil in your stomach lurched and something heavy dropped inside you.

" It might..it might.. might hurt." Benedict dropped his head to the crook of your neck, kissing once before he set his eyes on you.

You winced as one finger became two, pulsing inside you, your soul was no longer inside you and it was as if you were floating.

" Ben...oh—" you almost cried, your eyes tearing up when his pace increased and he was panting and shaking, his eyes widening when you came with a sharp cry, thighs shaking and turning to jelly as Benedict watched dazedly.

" Fuck i ruined..I ruined — " you looked as Benedict withdrew his fingers covered in silvery thick juices.

" Shhh... " He cooed, smiling as he brought his fingers to his mouth, you gawked as he wickedly sucked them in, humming at the sweetness. " You were beautiful."

" Can we..can we go inside ? " You were being nasty, you knew but what you wouldn't give to see Benedict, whole of him, raw and naked.

" I...I would love to but in order to keep your virtue intact—

" Shut up ! " You groaned, taking his hand.

" Anthony will kill me." He shrugged, entwinng your fingers together and they moulded like they were made for each other.

" I will kill you." You said, he smiled like the devil he was.

You can feel it on your way home...

" Hey." You laughed when he pinned you against your father's study, kissing you deeply, " shhh..." He smiled, lowering his head to your cleavage, licking it, placing open mouthed kisses all along.

" My father's on hunt, he will come tommorow" You whispered, the servants were the only concern and honestly, there was hardly any concern.

" Good, tommorow i am talking to you father." He smiled up at you, kissing your flesh and you mouthed all prayers you knew.

" Wh..y ? " You said, Benedict hoisted you up, his hands underneath your thigh as he carried you up, missing the third step because he knew, he has been here.

" To marry you my little kangaroo." He laughed when you deadpanned at him.

" Call me that vile thing again and I will say no." You hid your face in his neck, smiling.

" Well since you're smiling—ow"

" Not smiling! " You nipped at his skin, salty and just like Benedict, it was like a dream come true, to kiss him, to love him, to have him.

" What should I call you then cupcake ? " He pushed open the door, lowering you gently down on the couch as he backed away.

" Cupcake ? " You offered, he mouthed a 'sweet' before he removed his waist coat.

" Oh lord..." You gasped as one by one Benedict began to discard his clothes, his skin gleaming with sweat and beauty, he was like the one poets wrote poems about, he was artist but he was art in himself, dazzling and ever so mesmerising.

" C'mon, don't act like you're unimpressed." He wiggled his eyebrow, teasing as he started to work on his breeches, you felt warmth tingling throughout you, you demanded touch because you were starving.

" You're like a poetry." You said, it was more of a breath but he heard it anyway, stopping as held the last bits of dignity together.

" You have called me poetry earlier too."

" Byron's poetry."

" But poetry indeed." He dropped the last clothing, naked and bare in front of you and like every bit about him, he was beautiful.

" My snowman..." You couldn't hold back the grin, Benedict was all macho and bravado but it crumbled when he strided towards you, he so wanted you to like him, every bit of him, whole of him and you did, with your whole heart you would love this man, forevermore.

" Yours." He mouthed, coming over you, his fingers undoing your nightgown and it was revealed that Benedict was rather good with buttons.

He sensed the way your body shivered at his touch, his fingers examining the work he did there with his mouth, he looked at you, you nodded, your night gown slipped down.

" Oh my...you have been hiding this from me ?! From an artist ?! " He sniffed down your body, placing tender kisses all over.

" Really ? I don't know...never thought I was much of bea—" Benedict shut you up with a kiss.

" You're the most gorgeous person I ever met and-" he kissed you again, " my sweet little kangaroo, so please." He shaked his head.

His length twitched on your thigh and you dare not look down.

" It's okay." He said, " all yours." He added with a wink, you glanced at his hardened leaking length, red angry at its head.

A desire in you swirled, to touch it, to hold it, to claim it, you brought your hand before Benedict pulled away, scaring you.

" I am sorry, I am sorry." You threw your hands back, Benedict opened his mouth abruptly.

" Oh no, i would let you fence with it later but right now I really really want to make it good for you."

" Right...I don't know what it meant but..that fencing part Benedict?! " You giggled, Benedict laughed, placing himself between your legs.

" It...it might hurt babe." He said, you stopped giggling.

" Not much." He assured, placing a kiss on your stomach, you so needed to be filled by him, his slender fingers could make you see heaven, you were dying to think where his thickness would take you. He was going to split you, you were going to very much enjoy it.

" Are you sure.. because..we can just do any other time...like wait for marriage, " you made a face, " not that I am not interested...you have no idea how much I am dying to see you scream my name."

" Benedict." You teased, putting all your seduction in it, Benedict eye rolled fondly.

" Oh Benedict! " You said it louder, Benedict eyes were blazing, the vein on his neck was throbbing like worm set free.

" You have no idea what you have done." He practically growled, taking your hand as his tip teased your entrance, you really didn't.

Your heart stopped when only his tip pushed through your folds, your resistance at it's peak, a beak of sweat tricked down your cleavage, Benedict closed his eyes, muttering something.

" Fuck..fuck you're so tight." He hastily said, his length pressing inside, you looked at how he was only half inside but you were already panting and moaning like a whore.

" Oh fuck ! " You screamed as he pushed all at once inside you, his hips smacking against yours making an obscene noise.

" I am gonna make you see stars." He said, his voice shaky but determination was dripping as he slowly thursted, once—your head threw back, twice—you were no longer bounded in body and space, thrice—your eyes closed and it was just stars and cosmic rays, you lost count and control as Benedict set his pace in a feral way, he was pushing inside you like beast set free, his hips rolled and slammed down at you with an alarming rate, they left a burning pain before he striked again.

" Benedict ! " You were screaming, your breasts rolling up and down and he watched devilishly, penetrating into your hole, plunging inside, your jaw slackened like his, his drool dripped down as he was lost somewhere, in his own daze.

He pounded inside you, his breath caught in his throat and his face red, you only half registered when he lowered his whole body, his mouth inches away from you and his thursted one final hard one.

" Oh my god ! " He bited his lips, his knees buckling as his cry sharpened, you felt the insides of your swirl with warmness, arching back, mouth agape with moans he brought out of you, the coil inside your stomach loosened as you came, body going limp. It was the second time you felt mere smoke in existence, everything dizzied while you short circuited.

You opened your eyes to look at him, your devil, your snowman, he was panting, his hair plastered to his forehead, his smile dazed.

" Was it good? " He nuzzled his nose in the crook of your neck, you were aware of his juices mixing with yours inside you and it made your nipples hard, just by thinking.

" Ama..zing." you kissed his forehead, his limp cock still inside you, you liked how full it made you feel, like complete.

" I was thinking about a snowman waltzing." He laughed lowly, it's sound buzzing inside your skin, you didn't get why.

" Why ? "

" Umm...to last longer because.. because I would have come just by the way you looked at me."

" I was looking like a perv ?! " You huffed, he glanced up, his mouth easing your hardened nipple, speaking around it.

" Oh yes, like you couldn't get enough of me, you have compromised me, now you must marry me to keep my virtue entact." He sucked back again, you chuckled, feeling the corner of your eyes glistented with tears.

It was several moments gone, his head on your chest as you scatched his scalp, untangling his hair and occasionally pulling him for a kiss, he was still inside you, coaxing inside your warmness, relishing.

" Benedict." You whispered, not bothering if he had slept already.

" Huh." He mumbled softly, heavy with sleep.

" You're my best friend." you knew what it was, you are in love.

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wheeloffortune-design · 3 months ago

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if you're still young you haven't experience how weird time is. you probably have heard how millenials still think 1980 is 20 years ago, and you know it can't be mathematically true, but you feel it inside.

sometimes you categorize something as 'new' in your mind and it stays like that forever.

example: for me, Minecraft just came out. even though the first time i played it, it was a game you could play on a browser, online, without an account. like, you went to the minecraft website, there was a tiny window, and there you could play. i remember how revolutionary it was, how the style and gameplay completely swept the gaming news.

and i simply can't compute when people say 'oh yeah i played minecraft when i was in elementary school, i'm super nostalgic'. what do you mean, nostalgic, that game just came out. i was an adult when it came out. so it must have happened super recently.

we laugh at older generations who can't keep up with technology, but now i understand. for them, it's all new, you won't even know if it'll last.

things that in my brain, are recent: netflix, instagram, the lord of the rings movies, 9/11, the princess and the frog movie, just to name a few. some of them had the time to grow and die: dvds, vine, ipads, myspace. all recent to me.

i think people focus too much on deciding if growing old is good or bad, and not enough on how weird it is.

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millalune · 18 days ago

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suprise - park jongseong

pairing - boyfriend jay x reader

synopsis - when your long distance boyfriend jay decides to surprise you, you couldn’t be happier.

word count - 0.8k

You were sprawled out on your couch, wrapped in the softest blanket you owned, mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

The TV played in the background, something you had put on just for noise, but nothing really held your attention.

Your attention had been elsewhere all day on him.

Jay.

The distance between you two felt especially unbearable tonight. Maybe it was the weather, the way the rain tapped against your window like a reminder of how alone you felt without him here.

Or maybe it was just one of those nights when the ache of missing him weighed a little heavier on your chest.

You sighed, pulling your blanket tighter around you as you opened your messages with him.

Jay [6:12 PM]: “Busy today, but I’ll call you before you sleep, okay?”

That was hours ago. It wasn’t like him to go this long without at least sending a quick text.

You tried not to overthink it. Maybe he got caught up with something. Maybe he was exhausted. Maybe

A knock at your door made you jolt.

You frowned, glancing at the time. 11:43 PM. Who the hell was knocking this late? You hesitated, creeping toward the door cautiously.

“Who is it?” you called, your voice wary.

Silence.

Then—

“It’s me.”

Your heart stopped.

You knew that voice.

Your hands trembled as you fumbled with the lock, yanking the door open so fast you nearly tripped over yourself.

And there he was.

Jay.

Standing in your doorway, rain-soaked and breathtakingly real. A black hoodie clung to his frame, droplets of rain slipping from his damp hair onto his forehead.

He was carrying his bag, his suitcase resting beside him, as if he had just stepped off a plane and come straight here.

Your breath hitched. “You’re… you’re here?”

A slow smile tugged at his lips, his eyes filled with something tender, something that made your chest tighten. “Surprise.”

You didn’t think you just moved.

You launched yourself into his arms, the force nearly knocking him back. His bag hit the floor as he caught you, strong arms wrapping around you as he buried his face into your neck.

His scent familiar, comforting, intoxicating flooded your senses, and suddenly, the weight of missing him came crashing down all at once.

“You idiot,” you mumbled against his shoulder, gripping him tighter. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

Jay chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. “Kinda ruins the surprise if I do.”

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands framing his face, your thumbs brushing over the slight stubble on his jaw.

His eyes searched yours, filled with something soft and adoring, like he was memorizing every inch of your face.

“How?” you asked, still in disbelief.

He grinned, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face. “Took the first flight I could. I couldn’t do another night without you.”

Your throat tightened. “You’re such a sap.”

Jay smirked. “And yet, you love me for it.”

You rolled your eyes, but he wasn’t wrong.

Instead of answering, you kissed him.

It wasn’t rushed or desperate it was slow, lingering, the kind of kiss that made time feel irrelevant.

His lips were warm against yours despite the rain, his hands slipping around your waist, holding you like he was afraid you might disappear.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Can I come in?” he murmured, voice laced with amusement.

You laughed softly, stepping aside. “Only because you traveled thousands of miles.”

He grinned, grabbing his suitcase and stepping inside. The moment the door shut behind him, you tugged him toward the couch, still unwilling to let go.

He didn’t mind he let you hold onto him, let you steal every second of warmth he had to offer.

Jay pulled you into his lap, arms encircling you as you nestled against his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear.

“This still doesn’t feel real,” you mumbled.

He pressed a kiss to your hair. “Better believe it, baby. You’re stuck with me now.”

You smiled against his hoodie, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I’m never letting you go.”

Jay tightened his arms around you. “Never.”

And just like that, the distance didn’t matter anymore. Because he was here, finally, where he belonged right in your arms.

milla’s note - I remember doing long distance that shit was so hard to be honest but if you really love the person it always works out in the end!

@millalune please don’t translate or plagiarize my work!

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channiesbakery · 3 months ago

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lazy weekend —

prompt / request — slow morning routine with jeonghan

pairing — reader + boyfriend!jeonghan

word count — 589

genre — fluff

author’s note — i miss jeonghan 💔

lazy weekends with your boyfriend were your favorite types of weekends. ones where you have nothing planned so you can sleep in, waking up from the sun shining through your windows and not from an alarm blaring at you.

and if it’s not the sun waking you up, it’s your boyfriend’s lips, peppering kisses all over your face until you wake up.

“i thought we agreed to sleep in this weekend?” you mumble sleepily to him. “we did. it’s almost 11, sweetheart,” jeonghan whispers against your cheek. “besides, i’m bored,” he adds, making you huff. “so you wake me up because you’re bored?” you ask and he just grins.

“well, i was just giving you some sweet kisses, you woke up on your own. but since you’re up… let’s get our day started,” he says, pulling you out of bed.

your day fully starts in the kitchen, both of you working together to prep your breakfast. jeonghan mixes the pancake batter while you cut up fruit.

when you glance over, you see him meticulously shaping each pancake.

“you’re so extra, you know that?” you tease, watching as he made bunny shaped pancakes. “only the best for you sweetheart,” he grins.

you eat in a comfortable silence, only occasionally giggling at a stupid joke jeonghan makes or nudging his side playfully.

jeonghan takes care of cleaning up and washing the dishes, sending you to the living room to get your activity for the day set up: a new lego set for your growing collection.

you hear him connecting his phone to the speakers, a soft song playing before he joins you on the living room floor.

“i can’t believe you bought three lego sets at once,” you sigh at him as you sort the pieces from the first baggie.

“well I couldn’t decide which flower set i liked most! besides, now i get to give you flowers that last forever,” jeonghan smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

you begin building, each of you building small pieces then connecting them. when you got to steps where you couldn’t work ahead, you’d settle for handing him the pieces he needed.

but as relaxing as this was, doing anything with jeonghan always had its chaotic moments.

“we’re missing a piece– oh god, how did we lose one–” “hannie–” “we can’t continue without it–” “jeonghan!”

you finally cut off his panicked rambling with a kiss to his lips. “sweetheart, we’re missing a piece–” “you were sitting on it,” you tell him, holding up the tiny green piece.

this happens at least 3 more times before you finally finish building.

before you bring the finished orchid bouquet to add to the shelf filled with all his other lego builds, jeonghan makes you pose with the flowers.

“do we really need to do this every time we build something?” you ask but hold the flowers, smiling as his snaps the photo.

“of course. i need a new lockscreen. besides, i like to document my favorite memories with my favorite girl,” he grins before taking the legos from you, setting it on the shelf.

“i think you need to be put on a buying ban for now. we’re out of space,” you say, looking over all his other legos.

“aw, but i just saw that they came out with the home alone lego set!” he exclaims. “hannie, where on earth would we even put that?” you give him a look.

“looks like we’ll just have to convert the guest room into a lego museum.”

#jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #svt fluff #channiesbakery drabbles

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esotericbluntbaby · 3 months ago

Note

hear me out. . . high sex with hamzah😍.

he’s so hot.

sneak

hamzahthefantastic x reader

description: a rough date causes bad decisions to be made. upset, you decided to call your ex, who also so happens to be one of your closest friends, to smoke with you.

mentions: smoking, drug use, angst, smut, happy ending, nsfw!

woahhh first smut fic.. don't worry for those who are getting tired of smut fics! i will continue to balance out of fics with a mixture of sfw and nsfw, with the sfw most likely being angst!

the dating scene simply wasn't for you.

sure, you've dated people in the past, though, you knew always that they were supposed to be temporary in your life. you had the mindset of acceptance when it came to temporary and permanent; the concept of allowing things to happen and allowing everything to fall into place as if a higher being would spin a wheel for each and every outcome of your life was common for you to think about.

however, the date you went on made you wonder about how thin the line is between permanence and temporariness is.

you thought the date went well. you both arrived at the purring lady on time; the bar's ambient lighting amplified the romantic tension between you and him. in fact, the night flew past without much awkward silence. you thought you knew him quite well by the end of the date, wishing him a safe ride home and kissing his cheek.

about to text him about a second date, which you urgently hoped for, you realized the texts were green; he had blocked you without a single explanation.

so, you were currently sat in your apartment windowsill eating ice cream and gazing out the window at the city's skyline. the sense of comfort from both your home and the area around you allowed you to heal from the night a bit faster; almost as if the sole action was the tylenol to your dating scene headache.

being honest with yourself, you were hoping to bring him home. you found him attractive, almost as if he was on the cover of some obscure magazine. your date was the kind of person that you'd see once and the sheer image and thought of them would wrap around your head like the bandaid to the loneliness that overtakes you. you wouldn't mind being touched by him. however, he's gone now, so the bandaid was ripped off.

scrolling through your text messages, you realize hamzah texted you. the relationship that you and hamzah had used to be romantic. in fact, he was one of the people who taught you that some people are permanent; though you aren't together anymore, you still remained close. you would be lying if you said you didn't really feel anything for him anymore. no matter what, you think you'd always be a simple text or phone call away from him. no matter what, you think you'll always have some level of feeling towards him. though, some resentment will always be there; he was still the reason you tried to find love in dating apps instead of that whole friends-to-lovers deal.

hamzah

10:43 pm | yo

10:43 pm | how'd it go?

you

11:24 pm | ehhh

11:25 pm | i thought it went well

11:24 pm | i guess he didn't bc im blocked now lol

11:24 pm | fuck me for trying to get back into dating again

hamzah

11:26 pm | r u okay?

11:26pm | im like here if u need to talk abt it

11:26 pm | or i can js come over

11:28 pm | we can smoke it out

11:29 pm | i got the mango wraps that u like

you

11:29 pm | i thought u didn't like the mango ones

hamzah

11:30 pm | i dont

11:30 pm | but u do

you

11:30 pm | doors open for whenever

hamzah

11:31 pm | dont leave ur door open wtf lock it n js unlock it when im there

11:32 pm | what if theres a murderer on the loose

you

11:33 pm | holy shit hamzah

hamzah

11:34 pm | sorry coming

thankfully, you didn't get murdered by a man in a mask wielding an axe.

hamzah and you were currently on your couch, eyes ruby and lidded with the weed in front of you guys glistening in your lines of sight. hamzah began to roll you a blunt using the mango wraps you enjoyed; he never, ever allowed you to roll on your own. he always preferred doing it for you ever since you both found out that each of you use weed as a pastime for boredom. however, for you, it started to morph into a way to stop hurting. the date from tonight wasn't the first date to have gone "horribly," in fact, it was a sequence of many. you started to feel better now that you aren't using on your own; hamzah was there now. maybe the pain from your heart justifies the pain you're risking towards your body. more importantly, hamzah gives an extra buzz; it was both the blunt in between his fingertips and himself that was helping you feel less lonely.

you reached for the blunt in his hand, itching to take a hit. however, he moved it slightly away from you. confused, you looked up at him, gazing at him. the black beanie, hiding most of his curls besides the ones at the nape of his neck, surprisingly complimented the redness of his scelera. gazing at him, your eyes twinkled as if the fire from the lighter appeared in them. this was the feeling you felt like you'd always achieve from the mere sight of him; a feeling of companionship.

"what's up?" he asked, not allowing you to take the blunt from his hand.

you snapped out of the gaze he intertwined you with, "huh?"

"you seem more out of it than usual," he took a puff from the blunt between his fingers, "i swear you never smoked this much."

"i don't- i haven't smoked a lot."

"you just took like 15 drags from it."

"i did?"

"yeah, you did. so, what's up?"

you slowly blinked, "i don't know."

"you do. tell me, talk about it- maybe it'll help."

you steal the blunt from his hand, taking a long hit as he stares are you with an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes. possibly it was worry, or pity, or a cross mix between the two. maybe, he realized how much you changed since the two of you ended things.

"i guess i just feel lonely."

"how so?"

"i've been on 5 dates in the past 5 months, once every 4 weeks- and i guess like, i dunno, the more i go on these dates the more i realize how, like, shitty everyone is. this last guy i went on a date with, noah, i thought it went well. kissed his cheek and everything- the full 9 yards for a first date. then i realized he blocked me as soon as he left. it's like somethings driving people away."

"i'm sorry."

"for what?"

he takes a long drag out of cylinder, "that people don't see you the way that i do."

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean, like-" he hesitated.

"don't think about it too much. just say it as it is."

he started, "when we were dating, i saw you as human."

"i mean- obviously."

"no, you don't get it," he softly assured, " i think before you, or like, dating you, i worshipped all the people i was with like they were some god. i got on my knees and saw them as this higher being to praise, to the point where my relationships constantly belittled me. i was just some guy and they had the fate of everything in their hands. why would someone with all that power love someone like me?"

"sorry, i'm lost-"

"then, i got to the point of my life where i dated you and, for the first time, i was with someone who was equal. i didn't have to work my ass off to keep you in my life; in fact, the time where i was so upset that i wasn't working my ass off, you took, like, 80% of that relationship for a full week and carried it on your back. i thought you'd just leave. when i was struggling, i thought you wouldn't want some burden for you to carry on your shoulders, weighing you down like you were walking up hills with rocks taped to 'em. no, instead you picked me up. i was crashing and breaking, constantly, and somehow, you taped all the cracks together and now i'm alright again. yeah, a higher being plays with fate and lives and chance and all of that, but there's so much in the world that they leave broken and unattached. only a human would take the time and effort to mend me back together."

you looked at him with furrowed brows and a pit in your heart, "hamzah, i don't get it. if you felt this way towards me, why'd you leave?"

"feel."

"what?"

"i still feel this way about you. i never stopped."

your eyes began to water and you couldn't tell if it was from the weed or from the secrets being let out of the closet, "you're fucking with me. what the fuck?"

he watched as your eyes glistened and began to rub your thigh comfortingly. you two sat on the couch in silence as thoughts ran through both of your heads; it was now up to the both of you if voicing the voices in your head was a good idea or not. simultaneously, you both decided to take the leap, with hamzah breaking the quietude of the room.

"i was scared."

"of?"

"if things didn't work out- if we kept going in the relationship and somehow we started arguing more or ignoring- i don't think i would've been able to handle it."

"i wanted to handle it."

"well-"

your voice cracked in the middle of your sentences, "no, hamzah, i could've handled it because i was with you. you left me! you left me when i needed you. i keep on trying to fill the space you just left in my heart and my apartment with random guys off of any dating app available and it just doesn't fucking work. why would you leave me like that? i mended your cracks and then you suddenly decided to give them back to me, and now i'm trying to fix it but i just can't. why would you do that, you fucking ass? and why would you tell me about it right now?"

"i'm sorry-"

"no, this should've never happened, i should've never invited you over. what the fuck?"

"kick me out, then."

"what?"

he stood up, with you standing up right after, "you regret this. it's fine. kick me out. tell me to leave."

"fuck you, hamzah, you know that i can't just do that."

"i'm telling you, kick me out."

you pushed him, "what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"keep doing that. push me as much as you want, i deserve it."

your hands found its way to his chest, pushing as if you didn't beg for him to pull. he stared at you with a certain glint in his eyes; a certain neediness you haven't seen in him in a while. to say this was only a reaction of frustration towards him and his actions towards you would be a lie. it was everything all at once; the frustration from all the dates, the frustration from all hamzah put you through, and the frustration of not being touched ever since being with him. you were sexually pent up. you pushing him was actually the only form of physical touch you've had in ages. he took it. he simply took all the pushes you threw at him.

over time, the pushes got less and less aggressive, resulting in him being able to wrap his arms around you as you softly cried. you weren't fully sobbing, but it was still enough tears to the point where his shirt was slightly soaked. he didn't care; he never cared that his shirt was wet from you crying. he continued to hold you as he sat both of you down, back onto your couch.

"why would you do that to me?"

he kissed your forehead, "baby, i'm sorry. i'm so sorry."

he held you for what seemed like ages, stroking your hair and wiping your tears with his thumbs. you were confused; what do you want out of this? what does he want out of this? you wreathed out of his arms and sat beside him, both of your red tinted eyes remaining on each other's.

"i can leave now, if you want. it's two in the morning. i'm sorry."

"no."

"i'm not good for you. i leave when things get hard, baby, and i don't want you to go through that aga-"

you reached for his cheeks, thumbs in the fronts of them, and leaned towards him. your heads tilted to opposite sides, your lips connecting with bridges, mountains, and oceans of emotion between them. his hands made its way to your hips with his fingertips denting the stretchmarks, slightly tracing them as if his eyes were still opened. his tongue reached the inside of your mouth with hunger and desperation laced in his saliva. three minutes of sole kissing went by, before you pulled away.

"stay. please."

"what do you want from me, baby?"

"you know what i want from you. what do you want from me?"

"take a guess."

his hands made their ways to your thighs, pulling you over onto his lap, before connecting your lips again. he stood up, holding you with his muscular forearms, and navigated his way through the living room with his eyes still closed. the layout of your living room hasn't changed since he was last changed; hamzah was observant. he knew what he was doing.

reaching your room, he laid you onto bed with aspects of both foiling gentleness and roughness. getting on top of you, his lips made its way down your neck, making dark, blood-restricted marks down your body. it hurt; yet, you craved the pain it gave you. as he reached down to kissing your hips, you took off your shirt, leaving you in a bra. he stopped kissing you to hover over you, instead taking his beanie and hoodie off of himself in swift motions.

"do this often?" you teased.

he kissed you on the lips, "only with you."

he took off your shorts, revealing a black, lace thong underneath.

"you really just wear this shit around your house?"

"you were coming over," you started to take off his sweatpants, "i needed to prepare for the unexpected."

"god, you're so fucking hot."

the two of you laid in bed, him hovering over you and placing kisses and marks all over your body. he had always been a tease; you knew that hamzah liked to take his time with it. he said it feels better for the both of you if he does. however, currently, you weren't having it.

"hamzah, please."

"hm? what's the matter baby?"

"i need more, baby, please."

"are you still on birth control?"

"yeah, i am."

he took off his boxers, revealing the same 6 inches that you craved at night; actually, touched yourself to the thought of at night. his hand made its way to his dick, stroking it before moving your underwear to the side. as it slid inside of you for the first time, a burning sensation overtook the pleasure the entrance made you feel. your eyes teared up once more, followed by hamzah using his hand to wipe it off.

"hurts- fuck- it hurts-"

he kissed you lovingly, "it's okay; there's no rush. i'll start when you're ready."

you adjusted to his size as you made out with him, pulling away to tell him that he could move now. the pleasure he gave you couldn't even be measured; his movements made you forget all about the emotional pain that consumed you. there was comfortable eye contact, both of you looking at each other with the same eyes that started off high about 2 hours ago. your mouths remained slack jawed and wide open, occasionally kissing each other on the lips or mouth. suddenly, it felt as if a rope was about to snap inside of you.

"i'm close. fuck- i'm close."

he moved your leg up, resting it on his shoulder as his pace sped up. your eyes rolled back as ripples of pleasure echoed throughout your whole body. hamzah was good at this; he knew what he was doing and how to make you feel as good as you possibly can. with a few more strokes, you felt him release inside of you. he soon collapsed beside you, as you both caught your breaths.

hamzah turned to you and kissed you on the forehead, "i missed you."

"i missed you, too."

"what does this mean for us, now?" he hesitated, "i mean, am i gonna leave tomorrow and suddenly it's just like none of this happened, or-

"do you regret it?" you asked him, slightly scared of the answer.

"hey," he put his hand on your cheek, "i just spent the damn near the entire night telling you about how i could never regret you. fuck, i literally bought the wraps you like just for you. not to mention, i fucking hate the way they taste and they're a pain in the ass to roll and yet i did both smoke and roll them this entire night. i don't do that shit for just anyone. you tell me, do you think you regret it?"

"no. i don't. i can't regret you either, even if i tried."

"we'll start over. i'll do things right, this time, i promise."

you realized the line between temporariness and permanence wasn't as thin as you thought it would be, as now a temporary lover finally realized his permanence in your life.

authors note!

i am honestly not that experienced with smut, so i hope u guys still mess with it >_<

#hamzah fic #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah fluff #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefanatasticxreader

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0omillo0 · 5 months ago

Text

BIKER LEE KNOW

x reader <3 angst —> comfort/happy ending

everyone warned you about him, how he plays with girls and then leaves… you don’t believe them, until…

The clock ticked quietly in your room, the only sound breaking the heavy silence. Rain pattered steadily against your window, mimicking the slow tears that streaked down your face. You clutched your phone tightly in your hands, scrolling through old messages, trying to reconcile the sweet, caring Minho you’d been dating with the cold, distant person he’d become over the past week.

You couldn’t help but smile as you thought of the day he took you to the diner on his motorcycle. The ride had been exhilarating, the city’s lights blurring into a kaleidoscope of color as you held tightly to him, feeling the comforting warmth of his back against your chest.

When you reached the diner, Minho had insisted on ordering three servings of pudding.

“You’re unbelievable,” you teased, watching as he tucked into the first one with childlike enthusiasm.

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned closer, spoon in hand, and offered you a bite. “C’mon, taste perfection.”

The way he watched you eat—like you were the most fascinating person in the world—made your heart flutter. Afterward, he’d noticed your hair was windblown from the ride and gently brushed it back into place.

“These moments… they make me feel alive,” he murmured, almost to himself…

But that Minho had vanished. It started with him being quieter during your calls, then came the short, clipped replies to your texts, and eventually, nothing at all.

You (Monday, 7:12 PM): Hey, how are you? Did you make it home safe last night?

My Mimo💕🏍️ (Monday, 9:45 PM): Yeah.

You (Tuesday, 4:30 PM): I was thinking about getting tickets for that movie you mentioned! What do you think?

(Seen, no reply)

You (Wednesday, 10:15 AM): Are you okay? I feel like you’re being distant. Did I do something wrong?

(No reply)

You’d tried giving him space, telling yourself he might be busy or overwhelmed. But by Friday night, the ache in your chest was unbearable. The rumors—about him being a heartbreaker, about him getting bored and leaving without a word—crept into your thoughts like poison.

“Maybe they were right,” you whispered, the tears coming faster now. You curled up in bed, clutching your knees to your chest. “Maybe I was just another distraction for him.”

….

It was a saturday night, the knock on your door was loud, urgent, and startling. You glanced at the clock, 11:47 PM, and hesitated. The rain was heavier now, and the thunder growled low in the distance. You wiped at your eyes, your heart pounding. Who could it be at this hour?

You opened the door cautiously and froze.

Minho stood there, drenched from head to toe. His motorcycle helmet was tucked under one arm, his leather jacket soaked through, and rain dripped from his dark bangs onto his flushed face. He looked… disheveled. Vulnerable.

“Minho?” you managed, your voice shaky.

His eyes softened the moment they met yours. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice low and rough, almost drowned out by the rain.

You blinked, torn between anger, confusion, and a flicker of hope. Your teary eyes must have been obvious because his expression shifted to one of guilt.

You stepped aside wordlessly, letting him in.

Inside, Minho stood awkwardly near the couch, his shoulders tense. He looked around your apartment like it was unfamiliar territory, though he’d been here many times before. You crossed your arms, watching him carefully.

“You’re soaking wet,” you said flatly, disappearing into the bathroom and returning with a towel. You threw it at him without ceremony.

He caught it, his lips twitching into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “Thanks.”

You stayed standing, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he just dried his hair in silence, avoiding your gaze.

“Why are you here, Minho?” you finally asked, your voice trembling.

He stopped mid-motion, the towel hanging limply in his hands. “I owe you an explanation.”

“You think?” you snapped, the bottled-up pain of the past week bursting out. “Do you have any idea how hurt I’ve been? You disappeared without a word! And after everything people said about you… I didn’t want to believe it, but—”

“Stop,” he said, his voice cracking. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But it’s not what you think.”

“Then explain,” you challenged, your arms wrapping around yourself protectively.

He took a shaky breath and sank onto the couch, running a hand through his damp hair. “I didn’t know how to deal with what I was feeling,” he admitted. “I thought if I put some distance between us, I could figure it out. But all I did was screw everything up.”

“Figure out what?”

He looked up at you, his eyes glassy with emotion. “That I’m in love with you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.

Your breath caught, and you took a step back, your mind racing. “You… what?”

“I’m in love with you,” he repeated, his voice firmer now. “I’ve never felt this way before, and it scared the hell out of me. I didn’t think I deserved you, and I didn’t want to risk messing things up. But pushing you away was the worst thing I could’ve done.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your ears. Tears welled up again, but this time they weren’t from pain. “Minho, you really hurt me,” you said quietly.

“I know,” he said, standing up and taking a tentative step toward you. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you, if you let me.”

You hesitated, your emotions warring inside you. But the look in his eyes—the vulnerability, the sincerity—broke down your walls.

Slowly, you closed the distance between you, reaching out to touch his face. “You’re an idiot,” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek.

“I know,” he said with a soft smile, his hand coming up to gently wipe the tear away.

And then you kissed him.

It was slow at first, hesitant, but then the dam broke. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, as if he was afraid you might vanish. The kiss deepened, raw and desperate, a mix of apology and promise.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily. He rested his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your face.

“Does this mean I still have a chance?” he asked softly, his lips quirking into a hopeful smile.

You laughed through your tears. “You’re lucky I love you too, Minho.”

His grin widened, and he kissed you again, this time softer but no less passionate.

That night, as the rain poured outside, the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, the pain of the past week washed away. And for the first time in days, you felt whole again.

tags: @hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

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novamariestark · 5 months ago

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I Can See You [Spencer Reid]

Summary: You've been dating Spencer for almost a year and you are yet to tell your big brother, Aaron

Warnings: bad writing 🤣. fluff, some angst

Word count: 1764

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotchner!Reader

You hadn’t meant to keep it a secret this long. You didn’t want to. But when it came to you dating, your brother was way too overprotective. You loved him to death for it but it also pissed you off to no end.

Spencer freaked when he found out that you were Hotch’s baby sister and even broke it off for a while because he felt as though he was betraying him. But you had crept into his heart and you weren’t planning on vacating any time soon.

Even when you weren’t together, you were the only thing on his mind. You’d be there constantly whilst he was on a case. He couldn’t concentrate and it was painfully obvious to everyone. Even Hotch. The latter pulled him aside and told him to fix what was going on before he got someone or himself killed.

That counts as his blessing, right?

As soon as they touched down in Washington he rushed over to your apartment to see you. Throwing quick goodbyes to everyone and not looking back.

“Pretty boy has a girl. I’m calling it,” Morgan called out, pointing at the quickly retreating Spencer.

That was almost 11 months ago. 11 months of sneaking around behind your brother’s back. Which wasn’t too much of an issue when you first started dating but now you were an agent in the Criminal Investigative Division of the FBI. That meant both you and Spencer had longer work hours and often different schedules. So sometimes you two decide to see each other at the office. You knew it was risky and quickies in the car doesn’t compare to the bedroom but you both took what you could get.

However, recently, Spencer had been arguing that maybe it was time to tell your brother. You assumed he felt guilty. Not guilty enough to stop the sex in the FBI garage but guilty enough.

He did feel guilty but there was another reason he wanted to tell your brother.

You wanted to tell Aaron too. Really you did. But you’ve put it off so long that you know that he’s gonna be disappointed you didn’t tell him sooner. Anger you could take but the one thing you never wanted to do was disappoint him.

He was your idol. Your hero. The person you’ve always looked up to. The one you wanted to make proud. That’s why you joined the FBI. You wanted to make him proud. And he was, he just wished you’d picked a safer occupation.

He was concerned and worried every time you and your team left the office and was finally able to breathe when you arrived back. If he was away on a job when you came back you went to see Penelope or Peach as you called her. It was a deal you made with Aaron so he knew you were okay. Spencer didn’t oppose to this arrangement either because all he had to do was look at Hotch and he’d know that you were okay.

But one day, that call from Penelope was a little different. The team had come back... without you.

The simple arrest of Washington’s newest drug kingpin had turned into a kidnapping. Yours.

The BAU team couldn’t do anything but wait for the plane to land in Washington. In four hours time. Hotch hadn’t said a word. Neither had Spencer and the moment he didn’t make his move on the chess board, everyone took notice.

He just stared out the window and waited. Images of what you were going through at that very moment flashed though his mind. Were you hurt? Were you scared?

Were you alive?

Even your brother had snapped out of his thoughts and took notice of his lack of presence inside the jet. Sure he’d noticed your closeness but he didn’t think anything of it. You were close with Penelope and JJ too. But as he started to think back, he starts to see all the little signs. Small things.

But one thing in particular was how comfortable Spencer was with you. So easily comfortable. It all started to become clear. Aaron had figured you were seeing someone but you wouldn’t tell him who and as you’ve grown older you’ve become more adept at covering your tracks. Morgan also speculated on multiple occasions that Spencer was seeing someone.

What should he feel? Anger because you didn’t tell him or betrayal because you’re his sister and Spencer was one of his agents? His baby sister. And no matter how old you were, that’s what you were always going to be.

He would’ve been completely pissed. Shouting, demanding answers and an explanation if it wasn’t for what he was seeing in front of him.

Worry, fear, pain and helplessness. The same thing he’d see if he looked in the mirror right now. He didn’t have to ask. He knew.

When the plane finally landed, the team wasted no time in getting back to the office. Aaron inserts himself into the operation to get you back, not taking no for an answer and Spencer is right there with him.

Even when he was ordered not to interfere because he was too close, he did exactly that. You were in trouble, no way was he not going to tear up the entire state looking for you.

He told the team to stand down, not wanting them to get into trouble for defying a direct order but none of them budged. At this point, you were their family too.

The longer you’re missing the more it takes it’s toll on Spencer. So much so that he’s the first one to lash out at your boss when it’s found out that there has been a ransom made in exchange for your return to no action had been taken to do that.

“We’re not going to hand over all the evidence for his trial,“

”The hell we won’t,“

“We can’t—”

“—leave her there”

“Reid,” Aaron spoke, his voice loud to get his attention but no anger was in it. He reached a hand out and placed it on his shoulder, gently pulling him away from your boss “so,” he started, stepping forward to take his place, “What exactly are you doing to find my sister?”

“I don’t tell you how to run your team Hotchner, don’t tell me how to run mine,”

“Alright listen here,” Aaron stepped closer, right in his face, “if one hair on her head is out of place, I swear I’ll—”

“Hotch!”

“What?!”

“Maybe we should just give them some space to work and—”

”they’ve had five hours and they barely know where she was snatched from,“

Gideon gave him a look. One that told him to play along. He did and the team followed him to their usual conference room. Each of them branching off to do what they do best, working tirelessly to get you back.

And they did this for hours until Morgan got a text from Penelope, who conveniently was lounging at your desk.

They received a video

Aaron and Spencer rushed out of the office and down to yours. Your brother had tried to stop him from going, not wanting him to see you in a possibly horrific state but he couldn’t stop. He had to see you and he did.

He tried to ignore the blood, the wounds and focus on your hands, that to your captors, were wriggling due to the ache of them being tied up for hours but to Spencer and the others it was a message.

Trains... every 12 minutes... the only clue you knew about your whereabouts, and you knew that maybe it wouldn’t be enough so you added a little something to prepare for that.

I love you

With the reminder of their demands, the video fades to black, much like your vision.

Your eyes only opened again when you heard gunshots and shouting. The voices sounded familiar but muffled, far away. Perhaps you were imagining them and you were convinced you were until a door clanged open.

Someone called your name, followed by the sound of running footsteps, that got louder with each step. It wasn’t long until the footsteps stopped and a figure knelt down beside you.

”Angel?“ he spoke softly, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. His thumbs wiping the tearstains away.

”you found me“

”Yeah, Angel, we did,“ he replied, moving to untie your hands. As soon as you were free, you threw your arms around him, holding on so tight because you were afraid that he’d disappear. He moves his head slightly to the side to press a kiss to your temple, ”I love you too, Angel“

”I love you more,“

You smile, pulling away. He got your message. The smile faltered slightly when you looked up and your brother came into view.

Uh oh. Did he know?

You didn’t know what to expect. The thought of losing your brother was worse than the pain you had been through the past god knows how long.

You had thought about him finding out so often and he was angry, disappointed, betrayed. None of your playthroughs of this moment ever ended happily.

”I’m so glad you’re safe, (y/n),“ he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss on your head like he had always done.

”you’re not mad?“

Spencer looked up at him too, curious about the answer himself.

”of course not,“ he said, okay a little lie but you’d been through enough and he’d be stupid to ignore what was right in front of him.

Your eyebrows scrunched as you lift you head from Spencer’s chest, moving closer because you were sure you misheard him, ”you’re not,“

He sighed opening his arms for you to hug. You didn’t waste any time, tears falling as you sob into his shoulder, ”I thought you’d be mad, and I’d lose you,“

”I was mad at first,“ he admitted, one of his hands stroking your hair in a soothing rhythm, ”because you didn’t tell me,“ he added and you started apologising profusely but he stopped you, ”I’m not anymore because the truth is—“ He patted Spencer on his shoulder ”—you couldn’t have chosen a better man“

You smiled so much of the way home. So much so, you thought your cheeks were stuck like that.

You had asked Aaron if he wanted to join you two for dinner and after you giving him that look you always gave him to get whatever you want, your best puppy dog eyes, he said yes.

#female reader #reader insert #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #hotch's baby sister #hotchner!reader #dr spencer reid #Spotify

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lvnleah · 2 months ago

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rory’s first period.

hii! this is the first teen!roo fic, she’s 11 in this one and it’s set in March 2030. it’s set during what I’ve written as beth’s last season before retiring. beth is 34 and viv is 33!

You’d been in the middle of a passing drill, focused on the ball at your feet when you felt… off. It wasn’t painful, exactly. Just a strange, uncomfortable feeling low in your stomach. You tried to ignore it, finishing the drill and moving to the next one, but when you stopped for water, you felt it again.

Something was wrong.

“You okay?” Your friend, Madelyn, murmured from beside you. “You look a little…pale?”

You hummed and nodded, “Mhm, just sore from training that’s it.”

“Break over!” Your coach called out, “Let’s get back to those drills, I want your passing more cleaner this time. Focus!”

You huffed as you went back to passing drills but your mind couldn’t shift away from the pain that lingered in your stomach. As the ball came to your feet once again, you passed it back to Madelyn before running to your coach.

He wasn’t exactly your favourite person in the world but he was alright. After all, he was the one who got you to join the Arsenal academy last year.

“I need to go to the toilet…” you muttered, “It’s urgent, coach.”

Your coach barely spared you a glance as he focused on the drill, “Make it quick.” He grumbled.

You nodded and jogged towards the training centre where the toilets were. Luckily, today you were training at the main training ground as a part of an experience. You knew the place like the back of your hand after basically growing up there.

By the time you made it inside the training centre and into a stall, your hands were shaking. You pulled your shorts down and that’s when the realisation hit you.

There was blood in your shorts.

Your breath came fast, panic creeping up your throat. You knew what it was. You weren’t a little kid, and you’d talked about school. Your Arsenal aunts had always been very open about their periods too.

But knowing about a period and actually dealing with it were two very different things.

You had nothing with you. No clue what to do.

Your first instinct was to call for your coach, but the idea of explaining this in front of everyone made you want to curl up and disappear.

The only person you really wanted though was Beth.

Beth was training with the first team today. If you could just find her then you knew your mum would be able to help you. Your mum always knew what to do.

You pulled your hoodie off and tied it around your waist even though it was cold, and slipped out of the changing rooms. The halls of the training centre were mostly empty, but when you reached the gym, you hesitated.

You could see Beth through the doors but she wasn’t alone. Leah and Monkey were there too, along with the rest of the squad as they worked in the gym.

Your stomach twisted. You’d wanted to just grab Beth and go, but now you’d have to get her attention without letting everyone else hear.

You peeked through the window in the door, looking around to see if you could get to Beth who was on the other side of the gym without drawing attention to yourself. Why were you so nervous? You knew you didn’t have to be nervous because these were your aunts, people you’d grown up around.

Just as you went to duck out of view, Leah’s eyes met yours and she was quick to stand up and come out to you in the hallway.

“Roo?” She said as she closed the gym door behind her. “What are you doing here? Thought you were with the U12s.”

You shifted on your feet. “I-I need Mum.”

Leah frowned, glancing toward the gym. “She’s in the gym. What’s wro—”

“Like I really need Mum,” you cut in, voice a little shakier than you meant it to be. “I got my period, Le. I don’t know what to do.”

Leah’s eyes flicked over you, landing on the hoodie tied around your waist. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” she said softly as she brought you into a hug. “Hang on. I’ll get your mum, yeah?”

She turned and jogged over to Beth on the other side of the gym, saying something you couldn’t hear. A second later, Beth was moving, heading straight for you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She asked as she closed the door behind her. “Why didn’t you come in?”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to say it out loud. “I-I think…I got my period.” You mumbled.

Beth blinked, and then her face softened. “Oh, Roo.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked furiously, not wanting to cry over this. But Beth just pulled you into a hug and placed a kiss on your temple.

“Alright, munchkin, let’s go sort you out, yeah?”

You nodded quickly, feeling a little bit better just having her here. Beth kept an arm around your shoulders as she led you toward the changing rooms, keeping her voice soft and steady.

“You’re okay, Roo. This happens to everyone. I promise it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I didn’t think it’d be like this,” you admitted, voice small. “In the middle of football.”

Beth chuckled. “What a way, eh? I know the first time can be a bit scary, but we’ll get you sorted.”

When you reached the changing rooms, she guided you inside and rummaged through her locker before pulling out a small pouch.

“Lucky for you, your brilliant Mumma is always prepared.” She handed you a pad. “I’ll talk you through it if you need.”

You took it, grateful but still embarrassed. Beth must’ve noticed because she just smiled and ruffled your hair.

“Nothing to be embarrassed about, munchkin. We’ve all been there.”

You went into the stall, figuring things out as best you could with Beth talking you through the door. When you stepped out, Beth had swapped her serious mum look for something a little more playful.

“How about we grab some chocolate cake from the cafeteria? Fiirst period definitely calls for that.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little. “Really? The one with the thick icing?”

“Of course.” Beth grinned. “And then we can talk about what you need to keep with you from now on. Maybe get you a little emergency kit for your bag?”

You nodded, feeling the panic from earlier finally ease. “Okay.”

Beth threw an arm around your shoulders again. “That’s my girl. Now, let’s go get you some chocolate before Monkey steals it all.”

When you walked back to the canteen, Leah and Monkey were sitting at a table eating their own lunch.

Beth kept true to her word, grabbing you a slice of chocolate cake from the cafeteria before leading you out to the car. She sent a quick message to your coach, letting him know she was taking you home early, but she didn’t bring it up again.

It was a quiet drive home with the radio playing softly in the background. When you pulled into the driveway, Beth turned to you with a small smile. “Mamma should be home. We’ve got a few hours before the little ones get back, so we can just take it easy, yeah?”

You nodded, feeling more tired than you expected. Maybe it was the nerves from earlier finally wearing off.

Beth unlocked the door, and the familiar warmth of home wrapped around you. You barely had time to set your bag down before Viv appeared in the hallway, her brows knitting together as she took you in.

“What are you guys doing home so early?”

You hesitated, glancing at Beth, but she just gave you a reassuring nod. So you took a breath and mumbled, “Got my period.”

Viv’s face softened immediately. “Oh, mijn meisje.” She stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before looking at Beth. “You sorted?”

Beth held up the emergency pouch she’d grabbed earlier. “We’re all good.”

Viv cupped your cheek gently. “Are you okay?”

You shrugged. “I think so.”

Viv smiled, wrapping an arm around you and guiding you toward the living room. “Then I think this calls for a snuggle.”

Beth chuckled, following close behind. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

You barely had time to sit before Viv settled beside you, pulling you into her side, and Beth flopped down on your other side, tossing a blanket over the three of you.

“Can I get you anything? We’ve got a bit of time before the little ones bring the chaos with them.” Viv asked you.

“Maybe a hot chocolate?” You said after a moment of thinking.

Viv nodded, “Of course, one hot chocolate, with marshmallows obviously, coming right up.

As Viv disappeared into the kitchen, Beth turned to you, “Disney movie?” You nodded. “Tangled?” To which you nodded again, “How could I have guessed, huh?”

Beth chuckled as she grabbed the remote, flicking through the streaming apps until she found Tangled. She knew you’d watched it a hundred times, but that never stopped you from watching it again. It was your comfort movie, something familiar, something safe.

By the time Viv returned with your hot chocolate, the movie had just started. She handed you the mug carefully, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before sitting back down next to you.

As the movie played on, Beth’s fingers absentmindedly ran through your hair, and Viv rested her head lightly against yours. You weren’t sure when your eyes started getting heavy, but at some point, you let yourself drift off, warm and safe between your mums.

Whatever had felt scary or overwhelming earlier didn’t seem so bad anymore.

#lvnleah #rory miedema #our little love: teen roo #our little love #beth mead x vivianne miedema fic #woso x reader

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d1xonss · 7 months ago

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Practice Makes Perfect

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 11

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : ⚠️ Smut (18+)

✧ Word Count : 8.9k

AN ~ Okay, so this was originally a request sent in by anon, but when I first uploaded it, I wasn't completely happy with the turnout. It felt a bit rushed and there were some things I wanted to change so I figured I would reupload and try again. So in other words, if you've already seen me post this once, no you didn't:) Hope you enjoy! xoxo

ps- Daryl's a sub in this so if you're into that, this is definitely for you;)

Daryl stood slumped over at the kitchen counter in the shitty apartment he now called home, the space oddly silent as the kids were off with Carol for the day. But the quiet was nice, it gave him time to think, time to let his mind wander as he slowly woke for the day. The smell of coffee hit his nose as it brewed softly from behind him, the light streaming in through the opened windows to let in the fresh breeze.

Though his gaze remained downcast at the piece of paper that sat in front of him, his eyes rereading the words over and over again to the point where he had it memorized. The neat cursive of your handwriting, the small errors in your spelling, and especially the little heart you placed at the bottom where your name was signed. You had left it the first time you came over, and even though you didn’t have a clue in the world, he had kept it ever since. Mostly because he didn’t have the heart to throw it away. Though there might’ve been another small part of him that held onto it because it was something you wrote out for him, and him only.

He reminisced about how stressed he was that day, having just moved into the Commonwealth with two of his kids, trying to figure out the new community and routine they would have to grow accustomed to. It was all very surreal having to go back to a “normal” kind of life, Judith already asking for allowance before he even had his first day of work made his head spin. But then with just a soft knock on the door, came a sight that he never expected to see.

You stood there on the other side, all pretty and perfect, wearing a smile on your face and holding out a container of cookies as some kind of welcome. You explained that you lived just down the hall and heard about the new arrivals, wanting to do something special as you expressed your understanding for how weird it must’ve felt for him. And after offering your baked goods and assistance to whatever they might need, all Daryl could do was nod his head as he stared at you dumbly. He wasn’t trying to be rude, in fact he appreciated your words more than anything in that moment. However, he couldn’t help but ogle you as if you walked straight out of a Disney movie or something.

And it was safe to say those feelings never exactly went away. In fact every time he saw you they only seemed to worsen.

The kids however were even more hooked with you than he was, your cookies really winning them over in the beginning as they finished them within a day and a half. “Marry her.” was the first thing Judith told him after tasting the delicious treat, and he couldn’t deny he was amused. Though he obviously wasn’t looking to date or marry anyone ever, the idea of eating whatever you baked for the years to come...it tempted him a bit.

But the reality of it all was that he didn’t want to ruin his blossoming friendship with you, it was far too precious for him to ever risk. That, and he had absolutely no experience with relationships whatsoever. He had kissed a girl once when he was about fifteen, but other than that, he hadn't been with anyone in his entire life. Never even showed interest in any woman that attempted to flirt or touch him as he simply didn’t ever feel the need to want that. He always preferred to be on his own, that’s just the way that it was.

But now as he stood there, reading over your note you left on top of the container of cookies all those months ago, he knew he was in way over his head with someone like you.

Just then the front door suddenly opened up, the sound causing him to jump a bit as your familiar voice called out, “It’s me!”

It had become a common occurrence for you to just walk into each other's homes without knocking, and though Daryl didn’t mind, now was clearly not the time. He scrambled to open up a random drawer, tossing the note inside before slamming it shut again, “Kitchen.” he called back with a huff.

He saw your head peek around the corner a few seconds later, smiling as you adjusted the strap of your purse, “Hey, you busy?”

“Nah,” he said as he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, “Just…makin some coffee.” he gestured, offering you a thin lipped smile.

You nodded, “Where are the kids?” you asked, sitting yourself down at one of the stools across from him, “I found some things I think they’ll like, I figured I’d stop by and drop them off.”

“They’re out with Carol, she offered to take ‘em for a couple hours.”

“Oh.” you nodded again as you watched him turn around to pour himself a cup of coffee, “Well, that’s nice…you deserve some peace in the mornings every once and a while. I can just leave them here.” you suggested as you took the two little boxes out of your bag, placing them down on the counter.

He hummed a response before retrieving some milk and sugar to pour a decent amount into the mug, making you question everything as he was always adamant on having his coffee black. The way God intended or something. But then your expression softened a bit seeing him setting it down in front of you instead, making it the way he knew you loved.

“Oh, I don’t need any-” you tried to protest.

“It’s just coffee,” he said as if it were no big deal, “No roofies or anything, I swear.”

You snorted at his shitty joke, like you always did, raising the cup to your lips as you muttered, “Smartass.” just loud enough for him to hear.

He smirked a little at your response, pouring himself a cup of the steaming hot beverage as the two of you enjoyed it in the nice comfortable silence. His eyes never strayed away from you for very long however, almost as if he was casually taking in your appearance without you noticing too much. You always dressed up pretty, your hair styled to perfection, wearing some kind of boot or high heel, and paired with some fancy outfit that was far too much for the apocalypse. But Daryl never minded. In fact, he found it endearing.

Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander a bit, noticing that it had been quite a long time since he had seen you. Usually the two of you would get together a few times a week simply because you had grown to love each other’s company. But recently you had been busy with other things, with other people. Perhaps that’s why he found himself staring at your note this morning, subconsciously missing you without even realizing it.

“You avoiding me or somethin?” he then broke the silence, his question lighthearted but a part of him was a little serious. His insecurities tending to get in the way of things.

Your brows furrowed a little, “What?”

He shrugged a bit, “Just noticed you’ve been busy lately…haven’t seen ya in a while. Miss ya.”

You gave him a sad smile, “Believe me, I’m not doing it on purpose, work has just been insane. We recruited a few new people who don’t know what the hell they’re doing, training them has been a disaster, and…” you trailed off as you looked at him, noticing the small smile he wore when watching you ramble on and on. “...I miss you too.”

“Then stay for a while.” he said, his voice soft, seeing if he could keep you a few extra minutes before you would ultimately have to go to work.

You sat up a bit straighter at the invitation, “Yeah? You want me to?”

“Course.” he reassured, though his statement made him feel a bit uneasy, roughly clearing his throat to slightly divert the topic, “Just…don’t get too comfortable cause you ain’t movin in.”

He heard you laugh softly, the sound being almost too perfect to be real, “Don’t worry, I know you like your little bachelor pad going on here.” you gestured.

He scoffed, “Yeah, when the kids ain’t hoggin it.”

You hummed before a slow knowing smile was brought to your face, gently setting down your mug, “You know, speaking of…I talked to Carol recently. She told me some pretty interesting things.”

He raised an eyebrow, whether it was one of concern or curiosity, you couldn’t tell, “Oh yeah? Bout what?”

“You. And…Connie.” you hinted.

A look of surprise crossed his face, “What bout Connie?”

You shrugged innocently, “She seems to think you have a little thing for her.” you said, taking another sip of your coffee as you looked around, “Maybe this won’t be a bachelor pad for long.” you winked.

Daryl was left baffled. Why Carol would think he had a thing for Connie, he had no idea. But she had gotten it completely wrong, and now the girl he had been pinning over was under the same impression from the misinformation. But he couldn’t necessarily correct you, not without you questioning why. This conversation couldn’t have been going any worse, and all because he just wanted you to stay for a damn cup of coffee.

He couldn’t help but chuckle nervously, running a hand through his slightly messy hair, “You and yer wishful thinkin, girl.” he tried to brush off.

You tilted your head a bit at his dismissive tone, “I just want you to be happy.”

The sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter in an unimaginable way, finding he couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face. This is exactly why he liked you, your heart was far too big for your own good. “Yer pretty sweet, ya know that?”

“I’m just being honest,” you spoke softly, “If anyone deserves happiness, it’s you.”

He scoffed lightly in response, “Well, I appreciate that…but I don't think that's somethin I want...it ain’t really that simple for me. I can’t just…do that with Connie. Or any woman really. I ain’t good at that kinda stuff, I dunno what the hell m’ doin. I never even-”

A lump formed in his throat as he suddenly cut off the last part of his sentence, feeling his face get hot with embarrassment at what almost dared to slip out. He hadn’t meant to say that much, he never wanted to admit this kind of stuff to anyone let alone the woman he was enamored by. But now he had gone too far, he became far too open and honest about his inexperience, and now all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die.

Apparently, the conversation could get worse.

Though whether it was because of your innocence or the fact that it was early in the morning, you weren’t picking up what he was putting down as your face morphed into confusion instead. “Never even…what?”

Oh for the love of God.

Daryl cleared his throat awkwardly as he ran a hand over his face, the redness spreading down his neck as he debated on whether or not to tell you. It was mortifying, the fact that he had gone fifty whole years without touching a woman was absolutely the last thing he wanted you to know. Yet at the same time, he trusted you. He trusted you wouldn’t laugh or make fun of him for the matter. And anyway, he felt it was a little too late to back out now given the intrigued look on your face.

“Never had…y’know…” he trailed off with a gesture of his hand, hoping he wouldn’t have to actually say it out loud.

A beat of silence passed before your eyes widened a little as you connected the dots. Though you couldn’t bring yourself to believe it. No way this man was a virgin.

“Shut up.”

Daryl felt his cheeks burn brighter at your disbelief, “M’ serious…I ain’t ever…done that before.”

“You’ve never had sex?” you asked as if to make sure you were truly on the same page.

He blinked, “No.”

You slumped back in your seat with a breath, “Wow…” you muttered, watching as he grew more uncomfortable by the second. Though you weren’t trying to make him uneasy by admitting such a thing, it just genuinely surprised you that he had gone this far in his life without sleeping with someone. I mean…he was attractive, kind, somewhat of a smartass. It was hard to believe no one had fallen for that sort of thing, causing you to wonder just how much he had missed out on.

You nodded to yourself, “We gotta get you laid or something.”

His eyes widened in absolute horror, clearly not expecting that response from you, “No, no that’s- what?” he exclaimed in disgust, “You ain’t gettin me laid.”

“Why not?” you asked in mild disappointment.

He set his mug down on the counter with a soft slam as he grunted in slight frustration, “Christ (Y/N), cause it ain’t that easy. I don’t just wanna screw around with someone, that ain’t me. I would have to have…feelings for that person to get that far, y’know?” he asked, silently pleading with you to understand.

His outlook made you slowly realize that Daryl wasn’t like any other guy you’d ever met. Well, you always knew that, but hearing his genuine words seemed to make you falter for a moment as you just simply stared at him. Any other guy would absolutely dive head first for the opportunity to have a random and meaningless hookup, something to make them feel good before forgetting about the other person as a whole. Using them to just get what they wanted.

But Daryl…was the complete opposite; probably the biggest sweetheart the world had ever seen. You knew he would want to love and cherish that person he would share such an intimate moment with, treating them with the most respect and consideration. He would probably take it as slow as possible, not only to prolong the intimacy, but to make sure they were truly comfortable. You imagined him to be gentle and kind, even after the deed was done, he would continue to take care of them, offering to get them anything their heart desired.

Thinking about all of this caused an unexpected flutter in your stomach, one that you didn’t expect. But you couldn’t deny it was there.

You blinked a few times to snap yourself out of it, clearing your throat awkwardly, “I know that…I honestly wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” you smiled softly.

His shoulders relaxed a bit upon hearing your response, nodding in appreciation as he assumed the topic of conversation would end here, hoping to get out of this humiliating misery. But before he could speak, your gentle voice cut off his words.

“Is there someone you have feelings for?"

His eyes widened a little at the unexpected question, "...Huh?"

"Is there someone you’d want to, you know…experience that with?” you clarified.

He paused again, swallowing nervously as there was a certain heaviness to that question he couldn’t place. Of course there was. The way he felt about you was unlike anything else he had ever experienced before. In the beginning he denied it relentlessly, because he simply couldn’t accept the fact that he had managed to open up his heart to someone so special. But there was no denying it anymore, at least to himself. Though you on the other hand, could never know the truth.

“Nah.” he said simply.

You nodded slowly in understanding, quietly tapping your fingers on the counter as if you were trying to figure out what to say. “Well…if there comes a time where there is someone, and you need some advice…I’m always around.” you assured.

He nodded slowly, “Alright...” he said in appreciation, trying to mask how he was really feeling, his heart feeling like it was about to burst out of his chest at the thought of you seeing through him.

“Dropping the topic now.” you said as you raised your hands in surrender.

He chuckled gruffly, “Thanks.”

You smiled up at him, before catching a glimpse of the time blinking on the oven, “Oh shoot, I should go. I have to head into the infirmary in like fifteen minutes.” you said as you quickly drank one last mouthful of coffee.

Daryl tried his best not to let his disappointment show, nodding once more as his eyes followed you when you moved around to place your empty mug in the sink. Though the disappointment seemed to diminish when you turned around to give him a hug, your arms going around his shoulders as you gave him a soft squeeze. He found himself smiling at your familiar gesture, patting your back before he pulled away first, his hand lingering on your arm.

“Stay outta trouble, alright?” he mumbled.

“Always.” you promised in return.

An entire week had passed since that little talk the two of you had in his home, and it was safe to say that it had been plaguing Daryl’s mind ever since. He couldn’t recall the last time he was so open with someone, not being able to tell for certain if he regretted it or not. Though he couldn’t deny that your support and understanding wasn’t something to take for granted. But the longer he thought about the interaction, the more he wished he’d told you the truth.

Maybe he should’ve laid it all out there, but then again he had a lot to lose. Having no idea how you would react to his confession, he could potentially scare you off, and that was something he didn’t know if he should risk. He became a mess of emotions as he pondered endlessly over the things that clouded his thoughts. Although he couldn’t deny that he was slowly starting to find the idea of sex more and more appealing the longer he thought about it. Maybe having a little experience wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. But that also meant having to ask you for that experience, and he knew he would rather die than put himself out there like that.

Though as the days dragged on and he grew more restless, he physically couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. This was way out of his comfort zone, he knew that, but he felt like he was going crazy at this point. At least if you said no then he could just move on and not absolutely spiral about the constant “what ifs.” So, with that in mind, he smoked an entire joint by himself in order to calm his nerves before gathering what little confidence he had left, and headed down to the infirmary where he knew you’d be at this hour. He couldn’t let himself think about the decision too much otherwise he knew he would surely chicken out.

The door opened with a soft creak as he stepped inside, scanning the area for you. He disregarded the people sitting in the waiting area, clearly anticipating when their name would be called, opting out to peer around the corner to try and see if he could spot you. And sure enough he managed to catch a glimpse of your frame in the back, stocking up a nearby medicine cabinet as you organized a few pill bottles. You were wearing that little white doctors coat that he knew you hated, thinking it ruined your outfits. But he always found it quite attractive.

He awkwardly stood there for a moment as if debating whether or not to go back there, knowing he didn’t exactly have permission. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, letting out a small whistle in hopes to get you to look at him. It was a quiet, soft sound, but it caught your attention nonetheless, glancing over your shoulder to see him standing there lingering in the waiting room. He smiled a bit, gesturing with a hand as if asking if he could walk over to talk to you, to which you nodded almost immediately, waving him back.

Daryl let out a breath once you beckoned him to come over, silently slipping past everyone else to join you in your more secluded spot, “Hey.” he breathed.

You smiled, “Hey, what’re you doing here?”

Once you said that, it hit him. What was he doing here? He showed up to where you worked of all places to have this private discussion, not even considering the option to invite you over sometime to talk like adults. Maybe he underestimated how high he really was.

“Just uh…just wanted to see ya.” he said quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he figured there was no backing out now, “Can we talk for a minute?”

“Oh, um…” you trailed off as you looked around, making sure no one needed your assistance, “You might have to make it quick.”

He nodded in understanding, “Right, course…I promise it won’t take long.”

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “What’s going on?”

He cleared his throat nervously, gripping the material of his jeans as he felt his palms begin to sweat, “You know, uh…you remember that morning you came over a few days ago? When we was talkin in the kitchen?”

“Mhm.” you nodded.

He swallowed thickly as his heart was beating concerningly fast, trying to force himself to just say it, “Well, I been thinkin…bout what you said and…all that,” he gestured with his hand, “Bout gettin some real experience.”

Your eyebrows raised a little, “Really? You changed your mind?”

“Yeah, I did,” he grunted, “I think it could help, y’know…get outta my comfort zone and whatnot. See what all the fuss is bout.” he joked dryly, purposefully dancing around the subject.

You smiled a bit in surprise that he was willing to take that step, knowing normally he wasn’t one for change or trying new things. But maybe this time he was really ready to put himself out there, and you couldn’t lie, you were happy for him. Though the more you thought about it, the more you became a bit discouraged at the thought of him with another woman. You didn’t know where it came from, this pang of jealousy, but you knew you couldn’t say anything. After all, you were his friend, and he clearly came here in search of the support you always provided.

So, you managed to push your lingering thoughts aside, smiling genuinely as you gave his arm a small nudge, “Well, I think that’s great.”

He hummed as he nodded his head, trying to force himself to just stop being a coward and ask, “But I also had…somethin to ask ya.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Oh? About advice?”

“Nah…not exactly,” he mumbled as he let out a heavy sigh, “I was just wonderin…if you’d…” he trailed off again as he took another moment to look at you. He knew there was no going back after he said this, questioning last minute if it was really worth it. But seeing that gleam in your eyes and the sweetness of your smile, the words just seemed to stumble out without his permission.

“If you’d be the one to give me some experience.” he said quietly, his tall frame leaning down a bit to mutter it quietly for your ears only.

Your stomach plummeted when you heard his quiet request, feeling as if the wind was knocked out of you as that was the last thing you expected to come out of his mouth. The way his tone dropped when he asked, the fact that he took a small step closer to tower over you more than he normally was. It was all doing something to do. The tension between you was there, thick enough to cut with a knife as you stared at him practically gaping like a fish, not knowing what to say.

On one hand, you were flattered, and a little turned on by the fact that he wanted you specifically to give him the experience he craved. But another part of you felt hesitant, as if you weren’t one hundred percent sure he knew what he was asking of you. You wanted him to get out there, escape his comfort zone, but you didn’t want him to do it just because you simply suggested it.

Though just as he was growing a bit worried at your silence, you finally spoke, “...Me? You…you want it to be me?” you whispered.

He let out a soft breath, “Well…yeah. I...I really like ya, and...I trust ya.” he admitted, gazing down at you with a certain gentleness in his eyes, “But you know…you don’t gotta if you dont want to. I ain't gonna pressure you or anythin, I just thought I'd...” he trailed off, realizing he was talking far too much.

But you didn’t feel pressured, quite the opposite really. You honestly just couldn’t believe this was actually happening, it was a lot to process, and you hardly knew what to say. Time seemed to be moving incredibly fast and slow at the same time as you stood there, staring at each other with a newfound feeling.

Though just as you were about to open your mouth to speak again, someone popped around the corner and called your name, clearly needing some help. Daryl silently cursed at the interruption, though it was to be expected. He was coming to the conclusion that this was probably the worst time to be having this discussion.

“Sounds like they need ya...” he said softly.

You tilted your head as you didn’t want to go, your expression turning sympathetic, “I’m sorry.” you whispered.

Daryl shrugged it off, “It’s alright.” he said, hesitating for a moment, before reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair back behind your ear. Your eyes widened a little at the gesture, the comfort of his touch, feeling yourself almost leaning into his hand before he took it away too quickly.

“I’ll um…I’ll see ya around, okay?” he said with a nod before turning to head out, not even giving you a chance to respond.

You were a little shocked at his sudden rush to get away, but at the same time you understood. He must’ve been incredibly embarrassed and ashamed, especially since you hadn’t given him an answer. A part of you wanted to call him back, but you knew better than to do that, knowing he was already too far gone to hear you anyways.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to describe his regret as he walked back home, the distance between his apartment and the infirmary giving him way too much time to think. You didn’t seem completely disgusted, but clearly you weren’t a huge fan of the idea given the look on your face. He knew this was a bad plan from the get go, but he still somehow convinced himself to do it, now wishing he had never opened up his mouth at all. He felt a certain grief wash over him as he could imagine he had ruined whatever relationship he had with you, needing to learn to let it go.

The remainder of the day passed by in a flash, ending with him taking a long, hot shower in an attempt to ease the tension in his muscles and the thoughts circling his mind. The water sprayed down on him like an element of lava given the harsh temperature, his fingers running through his wettened hair as he rinsed out the soap and bubbles. Perhaps the longer he spent under the running faucet, the more it would make him forget about the embarrassing events of the day. It caused him to wonder what you were thinking at this moment in time, but then again a part of him didn’t want to know.

“Daryl?”

His eyes widened in surprise when he heard the sound of your voice, momentarily considering it to be just his imagination, but the sound of the front door closing with a familiar slam convinced him otherwise. What the hell were you doing here? And with the worst timing in the world.

“Y-Yeah? I’m in the shower.” he called out without thinking, the door being opened a crack and just enough to where he hoped you could hear him.

You fidgeted nervously near the front entrance, hearing his slightly muffled words made you rethink your decision to come over, seeing it clearly wasn’t the best time. “Oh, okay...should I um…should I come back later?”

“No, no,” he quickly called out again, “Just…just gimmie a sec.” he said as he frantically finished up before you had the chance to leave.

With his reassurance in mind, you stayed put as you waited for him, briefly hearing the water shut off after only a few seconds. Your thoughts ran wild as you pondered over the things you wanted to say, having not been able to take your mind off the interaction for your whole shift. It was distracting, nerve racking…but it was also a bit enticing. You had no idea what you were going to say to him, but one thing was for certain, you weren’t about to deny that his request didn’t intrigue you.

The sound of his footsteps approaching is what snapped you out of your thoughts, your eyes widening a fraction as you saw him step into the living room in nothing but a towel. The truth was, he was just far too anxious to hear what you had to say to take the time and put on real clothes. Though now as he stood a few feet from you with just a thin piece of fabric shielding him, he felt a little exposed under your lingering gaze. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look away, his messy hair sticking to the sides of his face and the water droplets that clung to his skin, it truly was a sight to behold.

Had you always looked at him like this? From the moment you met, you always saw him as a close friend and someone you could count on for anything. But now it was like a switch flipped or something, nearly drooling as you saw him in a way you never had before.

“Somethin you need, sweetheart?” Daryl’s voice broke through the silence.

You blinked a few times as you were brought back to the current situation, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, uh…I was hoping we could talk.”

He shifted a bit on his feet, subconsciously tugging his towel up a bit, “Bout what?” he asked dumbly. He knew why you were here; he just didn’t know what else to say.

You gave him a look that made him feel stupider than before, “About earlier…” you trailed off after a moment, attempting to find the right words, “Were you…um…did you really mean all that?”

He shrugged, “Yeah…” he breathed, “You really think I didn’t mean what I said?”

“No,” you quickly reassured with a shake of your head, “It’s just…it was all really unexpected, you know? You’ve never done anything like this before, and now all of a sudden, you’re asking me-”

“I know how it looks,” he said as he dared to take another step closer to you, “But…I’ve had these feelings for ya ever since you first knocked on that damn door, alright? It’s new to you but it ain’t new to me.”

Your expression softened as he admitted this wasn’t some spur of the moment thing, not that you thought it was. But his confirmed feelings for you only drew you closer to him, hearing the assertiveness behind every word.

“Look,” he sighed, “Goin down there and askin ya that was me bein a fuckin idiot. I shouldn’t have gone about it like that, hell, maybe I shouldn’t have even asked at all...I don’t know. But I don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me a damn thing, cause ya don’t. If you don’t wanna do this-”

“I want to.”

Daryl paused for a moment when you interrupted him, feeling a bit shocked that you had made your decision just like that. But then again, you did have hours to think it over. Meanwhile he didn’t even have to think twice when it came to you.

“Y-You do?” he asked, not meaning to stutter. He was just thrown off and absolutely floored that someone as breathtaking as you would agree to something like this with him of all people.

You took a breath as you stepped closer to him, leaving just a few inches of space, “Yeah…I really do. Honestly, I’m...pretty flattered.”

He felt a sudden burst of nervousness in his chest as the reality of the situation began to set in for him. You wanted this too. He could easily see how genuine you were being as you moved to be closer to him.

Clearing his throat gruffly, he spoke again a bit quieter, “Yer flattered?” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “Ya don’t even know the half of it.”

You smiled a little, sensing both his eagerness and unease which you seemed to find charming, “It’s just me.” you reminded.

He nodded quickly, “Yeah, yeah I know…” he said as he hesitantly rested his hands upon your arms, as if to help steady himself. “I just…I don’t know what m’ doin.” he admitted a bit sheepishly.

“I know,” you reassured, “I’ll show you…you trust me?”

He nodded again, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as he grew more anxious by the second. Not because of her, but because of the unknown. But it was clear he was in good hands. “I trust you.”

With his simple nod of approval, you reached up to gently grasp the back of his neck, before pulling him down to meet you halfway where your lips clashed together. He gasped quietly against your mouth, the softness of your lips already addicting as his hands instinctively squeezed your arms, wanting to keep himself grounded. The taste of you was better than he ever could’ve imagined, heavenly, unreal…but what else did he expect from someone as perfect as you? As the kiss deepened, you slowly coaxed his mouth open so you could slip in your tongue, his groan in response to you only encouraged you to keep going. His kiss was hesitant and a bit sloppy, though you couldn’t help but love it.

Your free hand moved up to his wrist, guiding his hand down toward your hip as if silently encouraging him to touch you. Daryl received the message loud and clear, but he was still a bit clueless when it came to how, slowly allowing his hand to roam the curve of your back blindly. He then pulled you a bit closer to him, wanting to feel every part of you against his skin. But with his swift movement, caused his towel to nearly slip all the way off his waist, feeling him quickly grab it before it had the chance to hit the ground.

He cursed quietly as he pulled away from your mouth, his breathing coming out in short, harsh pants as he grew a bit flushed at the idea of being completely naked in front of you. You allowed him to collect himself for as long as he needed, noticing the red that dusted his cheeks, but you still didn’t miss the blatant lust that filled his eyes.

Your hand reached up to gently brush some hair away from his face, “You don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” you spoke so softly, so patiently, leaving a few kisses on his cheek as if to help ease him.

He sighed shakily, trying to gather himself as his eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feel of your touch, “I know, just…never been this exposed in front of anyone before.”

“I know,” you assured again, your mouth traveling to gently nip at his earlobe, “How about we move to your room? And you can take it off when you’re ready.”

Daryl hissed softly as your teeth grazed his ear, nodding frantically at your suggestion, “Okay…yeah.” he said breathlessly before taking your hand to guide you back down the hallway.

In a flash he had taken you into his room, shutting and locking the door behind the two of you before you gestured for him to sit down on the edge of his bed. He followed your suggestion without saying a word, willing to do just about anything you wanted right now with how incredibly turned on he was. Though he was extremely nervous, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted you, how many times he had imagined himself in situations much like this one. Completely at your mercy.

His eyes followed your movements as you came to stand in between his legs, cupping his face to angle it up toward you. “Just relax.” you whispered before slowly kissing him again with a little more force than before.

This time he couldn’t stop the moan that bubbled up in his throat, feeling the smoothness of your skin on his aging cheeks, his body physically shuttering. His hands reached out to pull you closer to his bare chest, wanting your body flush against him as his touch seemed to roam a bit more confidently. You felt his hands travel down to squeeze your ass, groaning into your mouth as your tongue invaded his mouth to taste him again. At this point he couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream, or some kind of sick hallucination, his mind tricking his body that this was actually happening with how fast they seemed to move. But he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care right now.

You smiled against his lips as he gently groped your ass, your hands moving up towards his hair to give the roots a gentle tug as your mouths worked frantically. A shiver ran down his spine, the action making his head spin. You were so good with him, so gentle yet so firm as well. He couldn’t stop himself from breaking away from your mouth briefly, his lips moving down your neck as if he wanted to trace and memorize every last bit of your skin.

You sighed softly as your head instinctively tilted back for him, “You sure you’re a virgin? You seem pretty good at this.” you teased lightheartedly.

Chuckling against your skin, he took his time to kiss the underside of your jaw a few times before responding roughly, “Just have a good imagination is all…”

“You’ve thought about this before?”

He nodded a bit timidly against your neck, growing a bit shy at the admission, “A lot, actually…”

A smile broke out onto your face as you looked down at him, “Well, now I’m even more flattered.”

He groaned in slight embarrassment as he buried his face in the side of your neck, the words just slipping out without him being able to stop. His mind was too far in the clouds to realize fully, the lingering effects of the weed he had smoked making his mind a bit hazier. But he desperately wanted to remember every little detail, his hands trailing down toward your thighs as if he was itching to memorize your body.

“Here...” you then spoke again, moving his hands up toward the buttons of your blouse, “Help me out.”

Daryl looked back up at you with slightly widened eyes, swallowing thickly as he gave a shaky nod, beginning to undo them one by one. His calloused hands, though rough, couldn’t have been more gentle when it came to touching you. He treated every part of your skin like it was delicate glass, a piece of art to admire, as he almost didn’t feel worthy of being in this position. How could he have gotten so lucky when this was the last thing he thought he deserved.

“Keep going,” you encouraged when you felt your top fall to the floor, feeling his hands hesitantly move to unzip your skirt.

The piece of fabric slowly slid down your smooth legs and bunched at your feet, leaving you in practically nothing as you believed bras were a waste of time and effort to wear. His eyes took in every inch of you, mentally trying to capture this moment as he was already reluctant for it to end. And yet it hardly even started.

“You’re so beautiful…” he whispered as his hands reached out to touch you again, his face filled with desperation.

You smiled as you looked down at him, “Yeah?”

He nodded instantly, “Yeah…I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

A laugh escaped your lips as you leaned down to be aligned with his face, “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” you said sweetly before leaving a kiss on his cheek.

Daryl let out a breath as you kissed his cheek, the reminder that this was far from over was almost reassuring. His growing need and want was beginning to be unbearable, his hands gripping your thighs a bit tighter as he felt his erection start to ache.

“You wanna take that off for me?”

Upon hearing your request, the gesture of your hand that pointed toward the towel still around his hips, he grew a bit anxious. It was no secret that he was a bit insecure with the way he looked, he was older, his hair and beard a bit graying, his skin worn and scarred. He knew he was about to be fully vulnerable with you, that being both a good and a bad thing. He did trust you, but he just hoped you liked how he looked despite the fact that he didn’t.

It took a moment for him to build up the courage, to which you were incredibly patient, before he finally pulled the towel off of him, leaving him completely bare in front of you. But your reaction was far from a negative one. Your eyes widened a little as you took him in, not being able to see his flaws he was so worried about as you were solely focused on how breathtaking he looked. His arms could’ve been sculpted by gods, his toned chest rising and falling with every heaving breath, and as your gaze traveled south, you were shocked at the bragging rights he seemed to hold.

But the thing you wanted him to know the most, was that he was just as perfect to you as you were to him.

Though seeing his pleading expression seemed to stir something inside you, quickly slipping off your thong before stepping forward to straddle his hips in a fit of impatience. His eyes widened at your fast actions, but he wasn’t about to complain, his hands immediately going to your hips to hold to in place as he loved the feel of your skin against his. He didn’t know what to do now exactly, but he did know that he wanted more of you.

“You’re so handsome.” you praised, your mouth coming down to suck softly on the side of his neck. "So perfect for me."

A small gasp escaped him at your praise, your mouth working against his skin caused him to nearly melt beneath you. He had been called a lot of things in his life, but handsome and perfect were never one of them. It was new, different…and he loved it. He soaked up everything he could like a sponge, wanting to ravish in your touch forever. But when he felt you begin to rock against him, stroking his length with every pass of your hips, he couldn’t help the strangled moan he dared to let out. His hips instinctively bucked up against you in return, unable to help himself as he craved more than what you were giving him. All he could feel was his heart racing, his skin burning up, and his dick twitching as he physically needed more. His face nuzzled in the side of your neck, breathing you in as shivers of pleasure ran through him like currents of electricity.

You hummed, “You like that?” you asked, your mouth hovering over the shell of his ear where your teeth grazed his sensitive skin.

Daryl nodded his head frantically against you, losing himself in the lust he had never felt before in his entire life, “Yes…yes, I like it.” he stuttered out desperately, gripping onto you as a signal not to stop anytime soon.

He had never felt so good, the rhythm mixed with your kisses and taunting praise, he felt he could’ve imploded right then and there. He wanted more, his body craved more of you, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. His breathing was ragged at this point as he tried to hold himself back, his face still hidden in the crook of your neck as his lips began to place soft kisses against your skin. But as your pace grew more tortuous and slow, he couldn’t help but writhe and moan beneath you, not being able to take much more of your teasing.

You felt him pull back to look up at you, a distressed look painting his face, “Please.” he nearly whined. It was a tone you had never heard from him before, finding that you loved the way he was falling apart for you.

“Please what, honey?” you asked sweetly as if you didn’t already know, cupping the sides of his face, “Tell me what you want.”

A soft whimper escaped him in your agony, knowing damn well you knew what he meant. He looked up at you pleadingly, the smooth skin of your hands on his face feeling so good, but not good enough. “You…” he whispered needily, “I want you…please.” he begged.

Whilst he was beneath you, whimpering and pleading for you to fuck him, you on the other hand learned something new about yourself. The scene that played before you was something sinful, but you loved it far too much to feel even a little bit guilty. The burly man you had come to know as tough and stoic, just whimpered because of you. And for that, you had no choice but to give him what he so desperately needed.

In an instant you slowly sunk down onto his length, the size of him causing a moan of your own to escape through parted lips. Though Daryl on the other hand groaned loudly as he felt your tight walls enveloping him, his head falling back as he bit his lower lip in an attempt to silence the noises you threatened to pull from him with one simple move. It felt like he had just walked through the pearly gates of heaven, the feeling so surreal and pleasurable he couldn’t help but let it cross his mind.

As you adjusted to him, you looked down and studied his face, his brow already lined with sweat and his expression one of pure bliss. “You look so good like this.” you whispered, your finger gently tracing his jawline.

He wanted to scoff at your comment, thinking that he no doubt looked like a mess in front of you, but he couldn’t help but feel prideful at the thought of you loving it. It made him feel good, perhaps more confident even though he was fully flushed and exposed.

Though as he felt you begin to move, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a low moan left him in response, feeling the heat in his stomach already beginning to build. His hands moved from your hips down to your thighs as if to encourage you to keep going, giving them a firm squeeze as he panted to try and catch his breath. He felt as if he were going insane with the waves of pleasure washing down upon him, the feeling like no other as he knew he was a goner from the moment you agreed. His head was spinning though he tried to concentrate, not wanting it to ever come to an end as he watched you steadily pick up the pace from above him.

His mind was lost on him as your movements quickened skillfully, his hips pathetically trying to match your pace though he was failing miserably. But he didn’t care. It felt too good to care. His fingers nearly dug into the soft skin of your thighs as he whimpered and squirmed, feeling himself already starting to chase his high. He felt a little embarrassed that it had taken him close to nothing to reach his peak, but then again, he couldn’t bring himself to tell you to stop.

Daryl grew desperate to say something, to warn you that he was getting more and more overwhelmed with the feeling of ecstasy, though he wasn’t able to form any coherent sentence. All that managed to come out were pathetic whines and moans as he desperately tried to pound into you, looking up at you with widened eyes in hopes you would get the message.

And you did. You understood completely. With a simple kiss on his lips and encouraging words, you let him know that it was okay. “I know, honey, I know.” you said sweetly, “Let go for me.”

He whimpered against you lips when you kissed him, hearing your words made him feel a bit more at ease as he felt himself just on the brink of losing all control he had left. But he couldn’t help the way you were making him feel. With his mind beginning to cloud and the desperate movements he made, he finally felt himself release deep inside you, burying his face in your neck as he came. You slowed down your pace a bit as you guided him through his high, trying to make it last as long as possible for him as he just gripped and thrusted into you harder. Near sobs began spilling from his lips as he clung onto your limbs, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths as his body was practically vibrating.

He hadn't meant to be this much of a mess, completely falling apart from underneath you as he chased his high so desperately. But with how unbelievable you made him feel, it was like he had no control over the noises he made t or the emotions he felt. Like you had complete control. And he loved it more than he was willing to admit.

It took him a while to come back down to earth, but you waited patiently the whole time, running your fingers through his tangled mess of hair as he collected his hazy thoughts. Though he couldn’t help but feel a bit ashamed and a bit vulnerable, knowing he didn’t last as long as he would’ve hoped. When he finally gathered the courage to look you in the eye, he feared your reaction, as if he expected you to regret what just happened.

But instead you smiled, “You okay?” you asked gently.

All he managed was a small nod in response, letting out a breath as it was clear you weren’t upset in the slightest. But as his mind wandered a bit, he began to feel selfish, realizing he couldn’t make you feel as good as you made him feel. Leaving him overthinking the things he could’ve done differently.

“I’m sorry.” he then whispered gravely.

Your brows furrowed a little in concern, “For what?”

He blushed a bit with embarrassment, almost not wanting to explain his reasoning for speaking up in the first place. But your gaze remained expectant, and he knew he should answer. “For not…makin ya feel good.” he said sheepishly.

“Hey…” you said softly as you titled his head up to look at you, “You did make me feel good.”

The truth was you enjoyed yourself, even if you didn’t finish, you didn’t care. He was still new at this, and that wasn’t something you were about to shame him for.

He grew a little surprised at your admission, “But…you didn’t…” he trailed off, almost not wanting to say it out loud.

You smiled a little at his lack of words, “It was your first time, Daryl. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” you said, kissing his cheek reassuringly.

He sighed, “I know…but I wanna make ya feel good too.” he tried to explain.

“You will,” you nodded, “Practice makes perfect, right?” you said with a small wink.

He perked right up at that, the idea of doing this again with you hadn’t even crossed his mind. He assumed it would only be a one time thing, but hearing you say that sent a spark of excitement through him.

“So…there’ll be a next time?” he asked, trying to hide his hopefulness.

You laughed softly, “Only if you want there to be.”

He quickly nodded, he would have to be an absolute fool to say no to something like that. “Course I do…I want ya…as many times as you’ll let me have ya.”

Your smile widened as you leaned in to kiss him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to bring him flush against you. He groaned softly as his hands danced across your back, suddenly feeling very grateful. He almost couldn’t believe someone as kind and understanding would actually want him, but he couldn’t bring himself to question it for very long. Just simply wanting to live in the moment and not take it for granted.

“Wanna go again?” you asked against his lips.

“Mhm.” he hummed immediately as he deepened the kiss, his response not having any hint of hesitation. It made you laugh softly, feeling him already getting excited all over again. It was safe to say it was going to be an eventful night.

~ Thanks for reading!

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