#let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 012 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. minimal angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. explicit smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. physical violence. sex tapes. reader has a gun and almost uses it.

notes. i wanted the kiyoomi and suna girlies (/gn) to win so here it is! feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3

wc. 12.9k

series masterlist 

[ TWELVE ] for you, i would cross the line. i would waste my time, i would lose my mind. they say “she’s gone too far this time.”

You prided yourself in being logical.

There was little to no room for measly emotions when it came to royal affairs. Granted, you had no proper training, but you were raised as a noble, and the rules were clear. Set aside your emotions, always look towards the most plausible solution, and cry about it later – where no one could see. Those were your mother’s words. You held onto them for as long as you remembered, with the exception of making only one grand mistake: proceeding with the marriage after catching your fiancé cheating on you.

But now? Now, you were about to make your next worst decision – letting Kiyoomi walk away.

It wasn’t love, of course. It couldn’t be. The odds simply weren’t in your favor, but couldn’t a Princess hope? You met him first, had him as your last dance on your debut ball. He was the first Prince who ever held your hand, the first Prince to dance with you, and the first – possibly last – who reminded what love could feel like. What love should feel like. It was explosive and angry like fire licking up at your skin, begging, pleading at you to chase after him. Every nerve in your body protested as you watched him take one more step away from you. It’s a mistake, one I’ll regret – Don’t let him go. It screamed at you, its cries desperate to be heard. You didn’t want to be here in the Palace. You didn’t want to return to your shared quarters with Rintaro.

You wanted to go back to Itachiyama – his farmhouse, the castle ruins, riding aimlessly with Astra and Lucy, picking fruits from his garden, and spending hours in his library. You hadn’t even held your end of the promise yet to learn everything about him.

What did Kiyoomi love? What did he look like in his slumber? Does he talk in sleep? Does he steal the blankets? What about his favorite song?

You moved before you could think.

Closing the distance in hurried strides, you grasped the Prince’s elbow. He stiffened under your touch, his eyes unreadable through the dimly-lit hallways. “Your Highness. Wait,” you panted, “Listen… back at Itachiyama–”

“Do you want me?”

Your grip on him faltered. Briefly, you took a step back, but the Prince was having none of it. He easily closed whatever distance you attempted to put between you two, his face hard and eyes burning with passion. With yearning. You never thought a man could look so determined yet hopeless as he did, the picture-perfect image of ardor. His brows pinched together, his lower lip trembling as he sighed. “Do you want me?”

You shook your head.

If only it could be as simple as that.

“It’s wrong, my Prince. We couldn’t… We wouldn’t work out. I only meant to say that I do adore you, and I do not want whatever complicated feelings we have to ruin our friendship,” Lies. Every word uttered from your lips were nothing but measly lies. Kiyoomi could tell too – the hesitation written all over your face said otherwise. “I hope you understand. You and I – we’re impossible.”

You couldn’t tell which one you needed more: for him to deny your worries, or for him to agree that you were right. You figured both would be just as painful.

Kiyoomi’s nostrils flared as you looked away from him, feet shuffling in the other direction already. “Stop. Do not take another step. Don’t you dare,” with a low growl, you were suddenly pulled back against his warm chest. You gasped at the hardness of his body, the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch. His lips were everywhere but the one place you needed it to be – lingering at the curve of your neck, his breaths fanning over your exposed collarbones. It was like he had set you on fire with one touch alone, his firm grip around your waist both eerily intimidating and lustrous. And he must’ve laughed – you weren’t sure anymore. All you knew was that you were completely under Kiyoomi’s mercy, and quite frankly, he could have his way with you as he pleased.

“If you do not choose me…” murmuring, your breath hitched as his lips briefly grazed your skin, making your pulse jump. “You will regret it. You will be unhappy with him.”

I’m already unhappy with him, you wanted to say, but the words died in your mouth.

You’d lost all forms of coherence under Kiyoomi’s spell. Especially in this compromising position, this scandalous way his hand now slowly trailed its way from your abdomen and up to the swells on your chest – Gods, what would any witnesses say? This wasn’t how a Prince held a woman that wasn’t his.

“Your Highness,” you tried to fighting from his grasp, only to fall momentarily back against him when finally, finally, his lips were now leaving marks on your neck. It took all of your willpower to not give in right there, to not sink your fingers in his delicious curls. You had to say no. “I-I think we’ve both had a long night. We should retire to our quarters.”

“I will allow it if it’s my quarters you’ll be sharing.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck – your gaze darted around the empty hallway, paranoid.

The lights had been dimmed hours ago, the staff retiring to their rooms, but it was so quiet your breathy moans could echo. Anyone could walk in and see you like this, pleading but not quite begging for the Prince to not stop holding you.

And it was wrong, so deliciously wrong.

“Please,” you closed your eyes, unable to stop yourself from craning your neck to give him access. Above you, Kiyoomi chuckled, the rumbling of his chest deliciously low.

“You should stop lying to yourself, Princess. You do not want him. Whatever attachment you still have for my brother, it is nothing but a pitiful excuse of familiarity. You keep him around because there is no other choice, but you cannot keep lying to yourself. You cannot keep lying to me that you do not feel as I do when I see the way you look at me,” grasping your chin with his much larger hand, Kiyoomi forced you to look into his eyes. Pools of inky depths stared back at you with part frustration, part lust – his skin already flushed with sweat. You couldn’t look away even if the world ended. There was only you and Kiyoomi, with his hand resting on top of your breasts and gently caressing, so light you might’ve thought he wasn’t there.

And you, breathless and reckless, clung to him like he was your last lifeline.

Kiyoomi dipped down. His nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled before he breathed you in greedily. “I was never a man who had many desires, but you are the greatest of them all. You run through my mind even in my sleep, and you are the first thing I search for when I wake. So do not tell me you do not want me when I know it’s my name you cry out in your sleep.”

Your knees felt impossibly weak.

“What do you want me to do? I’m married. You’re married. Are you forgetting divorce is impossible?” you snapped back, shoving him until his back hit the wall. The painting above him clattered, yet the Prince seemed uncaring, his arms crossed against his chest as you breathed hard. This was preposterous – this could not go any longer. “This would never work. The people would never understand.”

“I do not care what they think.”

“I care what they think! My husband is already cheating on me, and his own people detest him for it. What more if they find out I have taken you as my lover?”

“Then tell me to go,” he whispered, tilting his head back as he stared at you almost defiantly, mockingly. Like he knew you wouldn’t have the courage to actually say it. “Tell me, and I will walk away.”

When Kiyoomi is met with silence, he scoffed. A smirk graced his handsome face before he’s grabbing you by the arm and twisting you, the positions reversed until your back hit the wall. There’s a slight ache pounding at the back of your head, but nothing – absolutely nothing – could tear your attention away from his lips crashing into yours. The kiss is nothing short of avidity. Kiyoomi devoured you like a man starved, molding the shape of his lips into yours while his large hand encompassed the entirety of your face. Thumbs running over your cheek, his imposing frame completely dominated you. Your bodies were now pressed into each other that it became difficult to tell where you began and the Prince ended.

All you knew was Kiyoomi kissed you like he spent most of his nights dreaming about it, sighing and groaning all at once before his tongue fought for dominance.

Pushing his tongue inside your willing lips, he tasted all of you. He spoke the words he struggled to say, the firm grasp on your hip keeping you in place beneath him a clear sign he didn’t want you anywhere but here. But you weren’t leaving. You’d be a fool to walk away now that you finally had a taste of him, and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

You wanted more, needed more.

Kissing him back harder, your palms flattened on his chest before you balled his shirt into your fists, uncaring if he’d walk back home flustered and wild. You simply needed him there; you wanted to breathe him in, to have nothing but him as your entire world.

“Stay,” you pleaded in between kisses, letting the Prince maneuver you until your bum landed flat on a table. Uncaring, the Prince swept aside all knick-knacks placed above it when his lips found yours again. And oh, a greedy man he was. Even after kissing you until you were breathless, he still hadn’t had his fill. His tongue danced with yours in this gentle melody only you two could sing, your bodies moving in sync like a choreographed dance. Your hand would wound up to tangle itself in his dark locks, his hands would scramble to undo his breeches, and willingly – wantonly – you would welcome him with all your being. It’s a dance between lovers, a forbidden tune you sang wholeheartedly, accompanied by your high-pitched moans once the Prince had himself buried in you – “Oh. Oh.”

“Who makes you feel good?”

“You, my Prince, it’s you,”

Biting down on your lip to muffle the noises you made, you heard the crescendo of the music. Rising and rising with overwhelming intensity at each note hit, each perfect thrust and drive into you. He hadn’t felt like anyone else. He was thicker and spread you open, impaled on his stiffness while you sat there helplessly to take it all. You felt empowered and weak at the same time, with your legs locking behind his chest as tears rolled down your face from the pleasure of it all, but Kiyoomi showed no signs of stopping.

Heavens, he might not even stop tonight, not when you sucked him in tight and made his breath stutter, his thrusts staggered.

“Kiyoomi,” you cried out, unable to keep quiet any longer. He simply held you carefully, a great contrast to his hips pistoning in and out of you – no, he held you like you were a porcelain doll he feared would break, someone he had to protect and cherish. And his eyes – droopy yet adoring – gazed upon you like you were worth more than any crown. “Oh, you are so…”

His forehead landed on top of yours, his lips minutely brushing against yours for a quick kiss. It’s rushed, frantic, yet intimate in ways you’d never experienced before. For once, sharing bodies with someone didn’t feel like just like sex.

For once, you finally made love with someone.

“Choose me, Princess,” he gritted his teeth, “It was always meant to be me.”

You awoke with a gasp.

Sitting up, your heart pounded in your chest, your skin clammy and drenched with sweat. A scan of your surroundings told you that you were in your room, the empty side of your bed a sign Rintaro kept to his word and left you alone. Closing your eyes, your head dropped down to your palms.

So it had been a dream, after all.

You really allowed Kiyoomi to walk away from you. And one mistake leading into another, you let Rintaro do the same.

Regret churned at your stomach. You could see it perfectly now – the drooping of the Prince’s shoulders, his gaze cast downwards when you bid him farewell. There were still traces of the happiness you felt in Itachiyama lingering on him just as he finally left, ones you were compelled to reach out to before it was too late. But it couldn’t be – you refused to give into your desires when it meant committing a sin. Rintaro didn’t deserve your loyalty, but he was still your husband, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing you’d been exactly like him.

In fact, you might be becoming like him with each passing day, and although you would never say it out loud, you understood him better now.

To find someone who could’ve been yours, someone who would’ve made you so happy against all odds, and to not have them at all – it felt like a cruel joke was being played by the Universe.

Is this what Rintaro felt like? Did he feel as if the world was being unusually cruel to him? Did he wonder what he could’ve done to deserve all this? Because those thoughts ran into your head long enough that you gave up on sleep, and rolled out of bed with a heavy heart and – shamefully – aching with need. Snatching your robe from the closet, you tiptoed out of the room. Rintaro was fast asleep in the sofa, his arm shielding his eyes from the lit candles. When he didn’t budge from his spot at you poking around him, you let out a sigh of relief and left the room. Clicking the door shut, you spun around, coming face to face with a wide eyed maid.

“Heavens!” you placed a hand on your chest, and then chuckled as the maid stepped back and bowed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would still be around.”

The maid frantically shook her head. She scratched the back of her head as her gaze darted around, seemingly determined to not look you in the eye. “No, Your Highness, it was my fault for startling you. I was reassigned to you just now, you see, and… Uhm, I’m Airi. Prince Shinsuke sent me here.”

Airi… You’d heard that name before.

“Oh! Airi. Yes, of course, I remember you,” you nodded, tying the robe around your waist tighter. “Why are you up this late?” At your question, Airi’s cheeks flushed a deep red before turning away.  You smiled to yourself, chuckling under your breath as you gently squeezed her arm. “I understand. You needn’t say anymore.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Would you like to accompany me for a walk?” you gestured to the empty hall. Airi nodded, a little too enthusiastic in picking up her skirts. You figured neither of you wanted to stay here any longer where anyone could easily see you.

Turning to the other direction, you headed for the gardens at the outer wing. It was the closest to your shared room with Rintaro, and coincidentally, an infamous shortcut to Belleview’s surrounding gardens. There had been rumors that Belleview was added in the palace grounds as an afterthought years ago – how a sudden need arose to have a separate place for a married couple. It was bizarre, in your opinion, how this long, seemingly endless path would certainly end up right at Kiyoomi’s doorstep if you were patient enough to brave the half hour walk.

Could you?

Would you?

Absentmindedly, you gnawed at your nails. Your Mother would chastise you for the unladylike gesture if she were here, but it was only you and Airi. She wasn’t going to judge, although you didn’t miss the way she glanced at you so often. Curiosity, maybe, but a question imposed her eyes. Deciding to break the silence, you smiled at the dark-haired maid.

“You’re very pretty. I can see why the Prince fell for you.”

Airi stuttered in her steps. “Oh! Thank you, you’re too kind for that, but I doubt it’s because of the way I look. The Prince and I have known each other since we were kids, that’s all. My mother was a maid too before she died. She was the one who helped raise His Highness,” she babbled, grimacing when she realized your patient smile held little to conceal your amusement. “Uhm… If I may be so bold, my Princess, I think you look rather great for someone who has been cheated on.”

Your brows rose. That you hadn’t expected.

“I do?”

“Yes. You look unbothered by it, or at least, you seem to be doing a great job at it,” she offered a polite smile, “Being a royal must come naturally to you as a noblewoman.”

Unable to help it, you chuckled. Oh, how wrong she was.

“Not at all. I haven’t always been this way,” you told her, watching as your surroundings changed from the marble pillars and into the night sky, where the fresh, cold breeze bit at your skin. You were thankful for it – the cold atmosphere was a great contrast to the blooming, colorful flowers.

It somehow reminded you of Kiyoomi’s gardens, and how you probably wouldn’t see it anymore.

The smile on your face disappeared. The ring on your finger grew heavier, and unbeknownst to you, you started spinning it with your thumb. It was curious, truly, how a week was all it took before you completely lost yourself. You couldn’t remember who you were even like before Itachiyama, before Kiyoomi. Or could it be that the past you had never been fulfilled to begin with? What if you were merely a work in progress, and the you in this moment was the real one?

If that was true, then that could only mean two things you would never want to admit out loud.

One: that you weren’t as in love with your husband as you thought if you couldn��t get Kiyoomi out of your mind, or Two: that the traditional saying and belief was right – your last dance would be your fated lover.

And it would make sense, too. Of course, you were happy with Rintaro. Were. You fell in love with him simply because there was no other appropriate reaction. He was the Crown Prince, a man who called on you every single day and learned about your passions until night came. He charmed your parents, loved them as his own, and proudly presented you to his regal family. It was the kind of love little girls were taught to dream about. The kind of love everyone wanted. You couldn’t blame yourself for craving the Prince’s touch, for giving him all your firsts. It seemed only the right thing to do. He courted you, committed to you, loved you as much as he could – it was logical and methodical.

It was one plus one equals two.

But Kiyoomi? It didn’t feel natural, or a step by step process.

It felt all kinds of wrong because you shouldn’t, and all kinds of right because it’s him. It’s the way he smiles at you when he thinks you’re not looking, or how his head is always turned in the other direction to act like he isn’t listening. He isn’t like Rintaro who never takes his gaze off of you – not because he can’t get enough of your beauty, but because he was watching. Rintaro was always watching, analyzing everything you did, crafting his actions and words perfectly to elicit the response he wanted from you.

His brother was the exact opposite.

Kiyoomi always stayed at the walls and blended in with the background. He never attracted any attention to himself, but would devote his entire focus on you simply because he’s entranced. Or you hoped he might. Surely it couldn’t be one-sided.

You felt it too – the frustration ebbing off of him each time you slipped away. You saw with your own eyes the way his face fell when news of your husband’s affair spread.

He didn’t hate his brother for sleeping with his mistress behind your back. He hated Rintaro for ruining a night that should’ve been yours. A night where his touch could linger on yours for a moment longer as you smiled for the cameras. A night where it’d be appropriate for him to look at you like you’re the star of the show – it’s camaraderie, you’d play off – and a night where he might’ve drove you back at the farmhouse and slowly, tenderly, begin with tugging your gloves off before he moved on to your dress.

Gods. You exhaled. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You shouldn’t be thinking about Kiyoomi, his plump lips that looked inviting, his dark eyes hungrily roaming over you and hoping, praying, that it’d been him instead. These were all wrong – so why were you walking towards Belleview?

“Your Highness?”

Airi’s voice snapped you out of your trance. Blinking, you smiled back at her in apology and continued. “Sorry, I must have been lost in my thoughts. As I was saying, though, I spent most of my life hiding behind my parents’ shadows because I struggled talking to people. And then the Crown Prince came and swept me off my feet, which changed everything. When he came into my life, I figured I had to become someone worthy enough to stay by his side, someone he could be proud to be with. It took a lot of years and effort before I could be confident enough to say I was good enough for him,” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks to look up into the dark horizon before you.

Huh. Why hadn’t you realized that before?

You’d been trying so hard to impress Rintaro all along. Isn’t that why you were so frustrated? You’d spent years molding yourself to become who he wanted, only to be slapped in the face that it was impossible because you could never be her.

You let out a dry laugh. “But apparently not. He already had someone else.”

“I’m really sorry you were dragged into this. From the stories Prince Shinsuke tells me, you’re a kind woman who deserved better.”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t mad upon reading the tabloids about his affair? If anything, I was just furious he couldn’t stay out of trouble and ruined my trip to Itachiyama.”

“Did you like it there?”

“I loved it. I wanted to stay.”

Admitting it out loud felt… liberating. You were beginning to feel more like yourself, even if it meant being less of a Princess and more of this unorthodox woman who simply wanted to be. It must be the side effect of spending time with Kiyoomi. You would soon care less about the rules imposed on you, and unapologetically be yourself.

“But the world sure has a cruel way of bringing you back to reality.”

“Your Highness?”

Both yours and Airi’s head snapped at the sound. Amongst the rustling of the bushes, a tall figure suddenly appeared – all mighty and regal even in his creased blouse and loosely tied breeches. His hair, dark and tousled like he’d run his fingers through it, did little to hide the surprise on his face.

“My Prince,” you breathed out, “What are you doing out here so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep. And you?”

You fought back a smile at his raspy voice. You could almost picture it – Kiyoomi tossing and turning all night in a bed separate from Iris. The sanguine voice in your head fibbed, too, wondering if the Prince thought about you as well. “It’s a restless night,” was all you let on, and gestured to the shock-still maid beside you. “Airi, do you mind giving us some privacy?”

Vehemently, she shook her head. “Not at all, Princess. Please, call for me if you need anything. I won’t be far.”

You waited as Airi disappeared from sight before you stepped closer to the Prince, compelled by an invisible force to be closer to him. “Kiyoomi–”

“Are you well?”

“Me? Why do you ask?”

He tipped his head to the side, causing a lone curl to fall in front of his eye. You fought back the urge to brush it away, beguiled by his long fingers sweeping it away “You’re in a very difficult position right now, whatnot with the article spreading,” he gestured back to the castle, “Has he spoken to you?”

You shook your head. “He’s kept to himself the past few days. I think this is a lot harder on him than it looks. As for me, well… I’ve had better days.”

True to your word, Rintaro almost secluded himself from the world. He shut off his phone, chucked it at another corner of the room, and never touched it again. It was painful seeing your husband that way when you know of his hobby of endless scrolling. But now, he couldn’t stomach the social media wishing him ill, seeing so blatantly with his own eyes his people’s deference to him. It hurt – more so for him than you – but still, a small part of you wished he’d say something. You were there, were you not?

You cut off your trip short because your husband needed you, and he barely uttered a word since you arrived. It got at your nerves. Nevertheless, you’d give him the time he needed. You planned to keep to your word that you would fix this all for him, regardless of what that might take.

You weren’t so cruel to let your husband be dragged into the pits of hell. Because quite frankly, that wasn’t the media’s right to begin with. If anyone would unleash hell upon Rintaro and Iris, it had to be you.

Kiyoomi scanned your face. “You don’t seem upset about all of this.”

You shrugged. “Their secret would’ve gone out one way or another. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I have far, bigger things to worry about, like you,” you leveled your gaze with his, watching as the Prince sucked in a breath.

Your last conversation with him the past night still played in your mind. It ate away at you to have to say goodbye when you didn’t want to, but he was here now. You woldn’t waste the opportunity to make things right.

Steeling yourself, you shut your eyes tight to gather courage. “Kiyoomi… Your Highness. I… I do not wish to stop talking to you. I know I sound absurd because I haven’t known you that long, but everything we shared in Itachiyama, I cherish it. I won’t forget a single memory I shared with you. So please allow me to take back what I said. I didn’t mean it when I said I would stop talking to you.”

“You should, though.” Opening your eyes, your heart dropped into your stomach when the Prince took a step back. “I don’t think we can be friends, Princess.”

Your hands grew cold and clammy.

“W-Why not? Have I done something to offend you? Tell me, and I will correct it–”

“We cannot be friends because I do not wish to be just your friend.”

Whatever distance he created between you disappeared. In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi had closed the gap in one smooth stride, leaning down close enough his nose nearly brushed yours.

You inhaled sharply at the proximity. Kiyoomi’s heat blanketed you, making you realize you’d been shivering from the cold prior to his arrival. Now, he was here, and your senses were filled to the brim with him – his scent, his warmth, his frame looming over yours making you feel protected instead of small. You couldn’t help it; your fingers twitched to pull him by his collar and finally have his lips pressed to yours. It’d been eating away at you for several nights.

A peck couldn’t hurt.

But you made no move, greedily sharing in the same breaths instead. Because if it was all you could have, then it was all you could get.

“You’re right. It does sound absurd. We have barely spoken to one another, yet I’m already tired  of this stupid game my brother is playing – his foolish plans to become King, make my wife his concubine, all with the intention of keeping you around like a pet. It makes my blood boil,” Kiyoomi grinned, though it was more sinister than genuine. “He cannot have everything for himself. I will not let him.”

“My Prince. I–”

“–Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with you, nor do I have any intentions of stooping down to Rintaro’s level and stealing what isn’t mine,” cruel, you think, as the Prince effectively cut you off with a brush of his thumb to your lips. You were now putty at his hands; melting and knees weakened with nothing but his touch holding you up. “But I am tired of seeing you this distraught over a man who cannot see your worth. I have had enough. So whatever plans you may have to retaliate, tell me, and I will gladly be a pawn in your game. Make your move. You may command me as you please.”

It took a moment before his words dawned on you. When it did, your palms flattened on his chest, absorbing its warmth and feeling the flutter of his heart underneath your fingertips. He felt so alive, whole, and well – you couldn’t possibly drag him into your mess.

“I could never use you like that. You know this.”

“So you do have a plan in mind,” he noted with a smirk, fingers crawling up to circle your wrist. “My brother really underestimated you, hasn’t he? You’re already proving to be far more dangerous than any sword.”

You flushed warm at his compliment. Pretty, yes, Rintaro has called you that multiple times. Beautiful, gorgeous, even, but dangerous? It made you feel powerful, like the crown was already on your head, and the kingdom was all yours for the taking. But greed often started out as a small flicker of fire, and you stomped on it as quickly as it breathed into life. You were no thrill seeker – you would not dabble or tread in dangerous, unknown, forbidden paths. Such paths like Kiyoomi, but it was there. The temptation. The calling to just reach out to the hand he’s offered.

Its voice beckoned you. Come, it whispered oh-so-sweetly at your ear, he is your puppet.

You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “It isn’t a good plan at all, and the Queen has summoned us – all of us – to inform us of her decisions on how we will proceed with this scandal. There’s a good chance Her Majesty might get in the way, but I’m determined. I need this plan to work.”

“What are you thinking about?”

“I plan on turning the tables around and pinning it on Iris. I know it’s dangerous – she’s your wife, and you might get caught in the crossfire–”

“Do as you please.”

“Are you serious?”

Kiyoomi nodded with resolve. “When I said I do not wish to be just your friend, I meant it. I want you to use me. I want to be your weapon,” nudging his nose with yours, he brought up your hand to his lips, kissing the glimmering diamond on your ring. A kiss of rebellion, a war cry, or a silent plea to be dominated – it said everything and too little all at once. “If there is anything I can do to help you escape this royal hell, I will do it.”

You closed your fist around his lips, and basked in the ghostly flutters it will leave upon your skin hours after he has gone. Then, you questioned it all: how could something so poignant evoke a raging will within you?

“It will be hard for you, Your Highness,” you warned him, “My plan is not a kind one.”

“I do not have very kind thoughts myself,” he chuckled, the sound dark and ominous. “But you should be careful, Princess. Iris is not who you think she is. If you are to proceed with your plan, you need to watch out for yourself, and Maiko especially.”

Maiko? What could Maiko’s involvement with Iris be?

“She won’t hurt Maiko, will she?”

“She wouldn’t dare, but I can’t guarantee she won’t try doing something to you,” with a wary gaze, Kiyoomi immediately masked it with that of indifference. Scanning the surroundings, and hearing nothing but the crickets of insects and the rustling of bushes from the wind, Kiyoomi wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you back. Iris is probably somewhere close.”

You were never one to feel much fear, but in that moment, a sense of numbing chill settled in your bones. Goosebumps arose on your skin. It was almost like you could feel it – her sharp gaze, her wicked and deceivingly innocent smile. You shivered despite yourself and huddled closer to the Prince, letting him guide you through the garden’s maze when his lips brushed the shell of your ear.

“Do you wish to know what would make Iris tick?”

“What?”

“It may be Rintaro who she wants,” his breathy voice caressed you, sending a different set of shivers down your spine. “But it is I whom she would kill to keep. Present yourself as a threat, make her believe you can steal me from her, and you will find her willingly offering Rintaro to you.”

You scoffed. “And if I don’t want him?”

“Then you shall always have me.”

Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi…

The Prince’s last words haunted you. Moreover, the way he looked with the moonlight illuminated upon him… he felt surreal. He came to you in your dreams more than once, caressing you in places he shouldn’t be touching, filling you in ways you never thought possible. A part of you wondered if it was merely your brain coping with the fact you’d mistakenly lain in bed with Rintaro. How you’ve felt disgusted with yourself ever since, and found it hard to look in the mirror. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the brain – replacing the man who left marks on you with the man that could’ve made you feel better. And you knew Prince Kiyoomi would – with those large, calloused hands, and luscious lips you spent countless hours gazing upon… would it be such a sin to wish they hadn’t been dreams only?

Picking up the nearby body wash, you scrubbed yourself clean of Rintaro. Your body still ached from last night’s events, but your heart clenched for an entirely different reason. Seriously. You couldn’t believe it. First, he’d let himself get caught in the action, and you let him sleep with you? You could’ve pushed him away. You could’ve said no.

It didn’t have to lead to whatever happened last night.

But then again, laughing to yourself, why did you chastise yourself so much? He was your husband. You were both married – sleeping with him wasn’t a mistake. Yet why did it feel like it? It felt as if… you kept on letting him take and take from you. How long until you’ve had enough? How much more could you give before there was nothing left of you?

You sighed, sinking deeper under the water. It’d been hours since your previous encounter with the older prince, and he hadn’t left your mind since. His offer for you to make use of him like he was a weapon, or worse, a tool, wasn’t an opportunity you could let pass by.

You could make use of him. He had more access to Iris than you ever could, and planting spies in Belleview Manor sounded terrible. She’d probably won over their loyalty judging by the way they kept their mouths shut that first night you arrived there to give her tea for her ‘headache.’ She had secrets, that you were sure of, but did Kiyoomi know them too? What was her connection with Maiko? Surely… Maiko wasn’t involved in whatever schemes they had in mind. The Princess was too sweet and innocent for that, but then again, so was Iris. The so called ‘dear friend’ of your boyfriend before he’d asked for your hand in marriage.

This was proving to be nearly impossible.

It was hard to tell who to trust within the Palace. Kita would be at your side, but you couldn’t possibly involve him in your plan. He might not even approve of it. It would be against the law, and it wasn’t the kindest thing one could think of. Kita would call it ‘the opposite of justice.’

“I hope the meeting went well, Princess?”

Popping your head from the water, you watched as Airi entered the room, folded towels in her arms. She’d prepared a bath for you long before you arrived, the water warm and filled with bubbles – just how you liked it. The room smelled faintly of roses, too, and you made a mental note to thank Airi for her efforts.

“It was great. His Highness and I discussed a lot,” he almost kissed me, too, but she didn’t need to know that, or the fact you wished he did. “Oh, and Airi.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

You pondered over it, you really did it. It was out of your character to abuse the power you had, yet you couldn’t stop the heat flaring in your veins. The pettiness that begged to be revealed. “Could you have someone call L’Essenxe Royale? Tell them I want them to discontinue their Vanilla Candy line because I’m allergic to it, and it would be a shame if I had to stop purchasing their perfumes.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Airi nodded, stopping in her tracks after a beat. “I wasn’t informed you were allergic to vanilla. I’m sorry, I’ll do better in catering to your needs more.”

“I’m not allergic. I just don’t want to smell Iris ever again.”

Just before Airi could respond, the doors swung open. Suna sauntered in like he owned the place, the top three buttons of his white shirt undone and loose. His collarbones and the top of his chest shone with sweat, his skin flushed and his dark hair messily swept to the sides. He must’ve gone for his early training – and damned him for looking good.

You snorted inwardly. But Prince Kiyoomi probably looked better.

“There you are. I didn’t get to see you before I left.”

“Airi, please give us a moment,” you requested from where you sat, arms lazily resting on the sides of the tub. Airi scurried out of the room with reddened cheeks – no doubt picturing what events could transpire between a naked wife and her insatiable husband. And speaking of said husband, he’d leant against the pristine white walls, arms crossed against his chest as he let those dark, hooded eyes roam over your exposed skin.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I think the real pleasure here is this view.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is that what you told your mistress too when you fucked her in my bed?”

Suna paused. It was a bait; he was sure of it. Choosing not to bite at your provocation, he pushed his weight off the wall and gestured to the doors. “You redecorated the room,” he announced, “Without my permission.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission. I thought we made it clear – under your suggestion – that I was to sleep in that bed, and you take the couch outside. Technically, that would make it my room, no?”

“You made Airi burn the sheets.”

“Sue me.”

“You threw away Iris’ clothes.”

“They barely counted as clothes, Your Highness. They were just thongs.”

“If this is about last night–”

“Last night was a mistake. Never speak of it again,” you warned, and just the mere reminder that you’d let him have his way with you, and you were too weak to refuse, again, no longer made the relaxing bath enjoyable. All of Airi’s efforts poured down the drain because having Suna around had your muscles stiffening with tension again. Rising from the bath, you wiped off the bubbles and suds off your body before stepping out. “What did you truly come here for? You never bother me when I’m bathing.”

Suna’s hungry gaze followed your every movement. The perverted bastard wasn’t even trying to hide it – his poor attempts of adjusting his breeches a failure once you’d put on your robe. “Her Majesty has summoned us for breakfast. She has an important announcement to make. I suggest you make haste so she won’t be anymore upset with us.”

“With you, you mean,” you waved around your lip balm, “What? Don’t look so offended. I am not the one who caused a scandal here.”

“I’m tired of arguing with you.”

You couldn’t agree more. Smacking your lips together, you walked past him, making sure to sashay your hips as you did. But before you could leave the room, Suna’s hand shot out to wrap it around your wrist. Gently, he pulled you back into him until your breasts brushed with his chest, the dampness of your robe making his shirt stick even harder on his skin.

 “Wait,” he breathed out, not once taking his eyes off you as he blindly swiped for a towel. “Let me dry you off properly. It would be a shame if you made a mess on your newly decorated room.”

Your husband fell down on his knees before you could say a word.

You almost asked him what he was doing when his hands tugged at the ties of your robes, his tender touch pushing them past your shoulders until the robe pooled at your feet. You inhaled sharply. Suna was kneeling before you, caressing your leg and urging you to place at his thigh. You don’t know what compelled you to obey, but you did. Resting it on his leg, you felt too exposed – his nose was right at your stomach, his hands touching everywhere but that one place near your heat.

It was torture.

The entire act was done with slow, purposeful motions. Like an artist taking great care with his sculptures, he pressed hard on your hips to keep you in place when you shivered. His strength, his silent gestures that he wouldn’t let you slip and fall – it broke your heart.

Why couldn’t he love you?

Why couldn’t he touch you this way and mean it?

Why did he have to remove his ring?

The glint of the golden material caught your attention from the vanity. You picked it up where he left it last night, unconsciously hugging it to your chest until you fell asleep. Until now, you’d brought it with you, and stared at it hard enough it might’ve melted. It never did, just as he would never belong to you. And then – his finger swiped over your nipple, the cloth on his hands now damp and his breath staggering as he moved to kiss your bare stomach.

You pushed his head away.

Suna stumbled back, barely. He sat there with a dazed expression, the towel he used to dry you with now forgotten. His hands shook in his lap, his eyes blown wide with something you couldn’t quite name – longing, regret, frustration. Whatever it was, it matched yours.

“I’m dry enough,” you told him, snatching off his ring from the counter and flicking it his way. The two of you watched as it stumbled along the ground with a loud clink, clink, clink, before it rolled right at his feet. When you finally found the courage to speak, your voice was so quiet – you couldn’t hear yourself at all. “Wear it. I don’t care that it no longer means anything to you. I won’t have you causing anymore problems for me when your mother asks about it.”

When you and Suna sat next to each other at the dining hall, neither of you spoke a word.

In fact, not a single person present dared to. Her Majesty sat at the head of the table, the clink of her utensil the only thing audible as she furiously cut into her steak. She was furious, that much was obvious. Even Crown Prince Ushijima hadn’t touched his meal, and his young son, barely a boy of eight, had his lips shut the entire time.

Finally, she takes a bite, takes a huge drink of her wine, and slams the glass down. All of you jump at the sound.

“It is not every day we can all be gathered here, but as you are all aware, it is a trifling time for the Crown. We as the royal family need to be united now more than ever,” she announced, her back straight as she looked everyone in the eye. “Which is why I am here to inform everyone of some minor changes we will implement from now on, and some events we have planned for the next season. First of all, Princess–” she pointed her knife your way, “-I need you to hold your mother back. She’s getting on my nerves with all her incessant calling.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” she lifted her chin, “Your Mother hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article was released. She demands I return her to you, but I think she forgets her place and yours. You are a Princess now; you are the Crown’s property. You are to stay here and see to your duties until you take your last breath.”

Forcing a smile, you willed yourself to calm down. “My mother was merely concerned, Your Majesty. I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Which is exactly why I’m telling you to tell her to stand down. I have already spoken with my advisors our next course of action and have all decided that we will deny Rintaro and Iris’ affair by all means. We are to pretend as if the article never existed. We need to show we are the Crown, the monarchs and rulers of this grand kingdom. We will not be swayed by measly gossip and defaming rumors.”

“But it wasn’t a rumor. The Crown Prince did sleep with the Princess.”

Her Majesty sighed, the sound dramatically drawn out. “Do you have any complaints, my dear? Because if you did, then you should have attended the meeting this morning.”

You gritted your teeth. “I wasn’t informed there was one.”

“That’s a shame – I thought Rintaro would tell you. It seems he likes to keep his secrets, then,” she jabbed, and your husband nervously sipped his wine as you glared at the sides of his head. “Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we planned a few events for this season. For this month, the four of you will be showing up to public events and you are to appear united in marriage. Laugh, kiss, hold hands – I do not care. Just make sure the cameras get it, and if anyone dares ask on any clarifications about the affair, simply tell them that it is very easy to fabricate photographs nowadays. You will deny everything. Understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” agreed Suna, and you scoffed. Snaking his hands under the table, he squeezed yours in assurance and whispered, “Don’t cause a scene in front of the Queen. We will talk later about this.”

“I was hoping we would.”

“Next, Iris and Y/N will be having weekend dates to show they are friends. We have already contacted an orphanage you will pay a visit to. Play with the kids, read storybooks with them, and get as many pictures as possible. Not only will it show that there’s camaraderie between you two, but hanging out with children will also imply that we can expect a next line of heirs soon.”

“A splendid idea!” Atsumu beamed, the first to dig into his meal. Rather, the Prince was halfway finished stuffing his mouth, happily rubbing his hands together at the thought. “This will all be good for the Crown, and to win the people’s trust back.”

“You really don’t know how to shut up, huh?” muttered Osamu.

“Your Majesty. Don’t you think this is going too far?” Tobio spoke up, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. Beside him, Prince Shinsuke was pleading for him to sit back down. The youngest Prince merely slapped his hands away, looking betrayed by his brother’s words. “Why is no one speaking up? Is this how the royal family really is? You would all lie to your people, deceive them we are all in one heart and mind when we are not. Is that the kind of rulers we aspire to be? Are we really the rulers they look up to?”

Prince Shinsuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand you’re upset, but the throne wouldn’t have lasted this long if none of us pulled some strings and kept up deceiving acts. Trust me, I also do not wish to take a part in this, but Her Majesty is right. The people are already growing restless that we have been without a King for years – having Crown Prince Rintaro’s reputation tarnished will not make this better. And as far as I know, there are still many protests against having an illegitimate child on the throne,” he reminded, causing Prince Ushijima to clear his throat awkwardly. Still, Shinsuke pushed on. “Rintaro is the King the Cabinet wants. We must follow the law. Ushijima can only be crowned King until we have ran out of options.”

Your jaw dropped.

“And what of me?”

“With all due respect, Your Highness, the future of the Kingdom is a heavier matter at hand than your broken heart,” Iris quipped, “Besides, if you knew about our relationship prior to the marriage, then you cannot blame anyone but yourself. You’re in this predicament because you were too cowardly to let go when given the chance.”

“That’s enough!” Tobio yelled. “You all need to stop talking about her like that. You’re all right – the Crown is more important. We need a stable ruler and for the people to not lose their trust in us. But the Princess is still a human. She was lied to, manipulated, and constantly looked down on. The least you can do right now is let her acknowledge her pain, seeing as it is clearly too much for each and every one of you to be decent human beings!”

Her Majesty paid him no mind. Waving her hand in the air dismissively, she sighed. “He is young. He will understand someday.”

At her nonchalance, Tobio’s nostrils flared. It was the last you saw of him before he kicked his chair back, storming out of the hall before everyone erupted into protests. Keiji slunk back into his seat, Shinsuke was immediately making efforts to appease the Queen by apologizing on everyone’s behalf, and Maiko was crying. And you? You glowered at the Queen before following after Tobio, the three other Princes right at your heels.

The doors slammed shut behind you.

You could hear the Princes running after you. Two pairs were rushing, but one pair of footfalls sounded more like stomping. Before you could turn down the hall where Tobio went, you were dragged by, Suna firmly gripping your elbow as he halted you in your tracks.

“Her Majesty was speaking,” he hissed, fingers digging harder to your skin. “Don’t be rude.”

“Oh, fuck off, Rintaro. I can’t believe you right now. Letting me be friends with your mistress? Really? And you didn’t even tell me there was a meeting this morning!”

His free hand ran through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would act like this. You would’ve embarrassed me in front of the advisors. Besides, you left before I could–”

“I embarrass you? Do you even hear yourself? You’re the embarrassing one for going behind my back and sleeping with your mistress–”

“She’s not my mistress!”

“Isn’t she? I wasn’t aware there was another word to describe a woman frolicking with a married man!”

His grip grew tighter as he spoke, and you squeaked out in pain. You tried to pry his fingers off of you, but Suna wasn’t having any of it. “You’re one to talk, leaving me here in this country to go around dancing with my brother–” Your husband’s face disappeared before you. In the blink of an eye, he was shoved nearly across the room and falling right at his ass.

Kiyoomi stood protectively over you, his chest rising and falling as he shook with anger.

“Stay away from my wife!”

Meanwhile, Tooru dodged between Suna and Kiyoomi, the former rising on his feet and reeling his arm back in a punch. Tooru effortlessly caught his brother’s arm, but holding him back was a different struggle of itself. “Rin, that’s enough!”

“Are you okay?”

You blinked back from the scene. Kiyoomi was now holding your arm where Suna grabbed you, checking for any injuries. Aside from a little aching, and a possible bruise that would show up tomorrow, you were unharmed. Still, the Prince wasn’t assured. His thick brows pinched together in concern, turning your arm over and over as he muttered to himself the violent things he wished to do to his brother. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not really, but I want to go after Tobio.”

Kiyoomi nodded in understanding. “Go. I’ll handle this.”

You shared a knowing look with him. I’m on your side, his eyes said, and that was enough to reassure you. Giving him a nod, you quickly turned on your heels and ran. You ran and ran until you were out of breath, your corset digging into you uncomfortably. The youngest Prince sure was a fast one – he’d already reached his own study in such a short time.

Peeking through the partially closed door, your heart broke at the sight.

Prince Tobio sat on his painter’s stool, an unfinished portrait of you – smiling in your wedding dress – lay before him. He was crying, sniffling to himself and wiping his tears with the collar of his blouse. Even the sounds of his cries were too painful to hear.

Shutting the door behind you, you took your place behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders to make him look up. When he did, his bloodshot eyes greeted you.

“I’m sorry you had to witness all of that,” you tell him softly, “I didn’t mean to ruin breakfast for you.”

Tobio shook his head. He pulled out a handkerchief before blowing on it, and you smiled despite yourself – he’d grown so much, yet he was still that sweet, naïve boy in your eyes. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had his debut, and now he was flourishing into such a great, young man. Your little brother, the sweetest Prince – you would do anything for him.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything, sis. You’re the victim here.”

You laughed a little. Victim sounded too poor of a word choice. Turning to the canvas before you, you gestured to it. “What are you painting?”

“You,” he admitted with red cheeks, “I started on this when Rintaro announced he’d be marrying you so I could give it as a wedding gift. But Her Majesty wanted me to focus on my studies, so I didn’t have enough time to finish. I mean, it’s not even the same dress you wore on your wedding so it’s inaccurate–”

“-It looks beautiful.”

“It’s still unfinished,” his shoulders slumped in your flattery before he lightened up, already moving to pick up the brushes as he wiped his snot with his hanky. “Since you’re here, would you like me to paint you as you are now? I’ll get a new canvas.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose all your efforts on your previous painting.”

“It’s fine,” he reassured, and per his instruction, you sat stiffly to ‘pose’ for him. It’s a little awkward, and Tobio struggled to sketch you each time you fidgeted, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. Midway through his sketch, though, he placed his pencil down, his eyes brimming with tears again. “I still can’t believe Rintaro was capable of being so cruel. I’ll never forgive him for what he did,” he said, his lower lip quivering. “Are they really like this? Is everyone in the Palace truly so heartless? Will I… never find love of my own, too?”

“Oh, Tobio,” you reached your arms out, crushing him to your chest. The Prince’s tears dampened your dress, though you paid it no mind. He was too young for all this hurt – this war over the crown. He was too good for a cruel place like this. “It will get easier someday.”

Fisting your skirt, he buried his face to your neck, his whole body shivering under you. “I never wanted to be a Prince. I-I wanted to keep playing sports and go pro someday. There’s a whole world out there for me to see, and I’m so afraid I’ll never become the person I want to be. I’m afraid I might turn out like my brothers.”

You pulled back to make him look at you. Cupping his face with your hands, you shook your head firmly. “That’s not true, Tobio. You’re already a thousand times better than your brothers. Look, you’re sweet, kind, and passionate. Who says you don’t deserve to achieve your dreams? You can be who you want to be. You can see the world. I promise you that I’ll support you in anything you want to do. Anything.”

“Really?” grinning, he wiped his cheeks free from his tears. “Then… will you come to my game? There’s a match and the Coach just added me to the team. It… Well, it might be a good opportunity for you and everyone else to show you’re unaffected by the scandal, too.”

“Oh, forget the scandal. I only want to see you play,” you tell him, and the Prince’s innocent smile is so big and bright it soothed all the aches in your heart. You promised to yourself, then and there, that you would do what it takes to protect that smile. “Now, should we get to this painting?”

That talk with Tobio filled you with unwavering resolve.

The poor boy didn’t deserve to spend a minute longer in the Palace. It simply wasn’t a place for him. He needed to be out there, living his life to the fullest, and to be surrounded by good people who were healthy for him. Not his greedy, cheating brothers, and most especially not with the heartless Queen as his only mother figure.

You had to do something for him. You had to weaken the throne even further, exploit their weakness and make the monarchy crumble. If not for you, then you would do it for Tobio.

It was the reason you’d gained enough courage to dial the number weighing heavily in your pockets long before Itachiyama. That piece of paper Kiyoomi slipped into your coat just before you parted ways. You should’ve known it back then – Kiyoomi was somehow always one step ahead of you. It’s like he knew what you wanted to happen before you said out loud. What you needed before you told him what it was. And you’d done it – scheduled the meeting, hired a private chauffer, and rented out a restaurant in the middle of nowhere at the dead time of the night before you could change your mind.

Do it For Tobio. For Kiyoomi. For you.

He arrived not a minute later than the designated time. He stood tall and confident – seemingly unbothered by the mass of hate he’d accumulated. Sauntering in through the doors with a smirk, he let out a low whistle, impressed with the lack of people. You had promised him privacy, after all, and if you wanted to succeed in your plans, you couldn’t be shy in splurging a little bit of money.

“Kuroo Tetsurou, was it?”

“Your Highness,” he greeted with a bow, his smile growing wider as he pulled out his chair. He’s handsome, with a smile you wouldn’t deem trustworthy, and he held an aura to him that warned you to tread carefully. He was, after all, the man who singlehandedly exposed your husband’s affair. “I am flattered by your efforts, though I must admit. I did not expect you would reach out to me of all people. I assumed you wanted my head.”

You offer him a polite smile. “You have it all wrong. In fact, I’m thankful for the opportunity you’ve presented to me,” leaning forward, you slid a thin envelope his way. Inside it contained a document of your own words, one you trusted Kuroo would twist to sound more convincing. “I want you to publish another article.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened. He waited for a beat, a moment or two, for you to say you didn’t mean it. You could’ve been joking. But you hold his gaze, your smile just as firm, refusing to waver from his intense gaze. “With all due respect, Ma’am, I think I’m already in enough trouble for that last one.”

Fair enough. You didn’t think he’d be that easy to convince.

Reaching beside you, you pulled out a case and clicked open the locks for him. If Kuroo was surprised before, he was most definitely flabbergasted by now. Wads of cash piled against each other stared back at him – temping him to reach out and take it. Smiling to yourself, you gently nudged the case in his direction.

“This is half of what I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you twice as much once you’ve done your part,” you promised, “You don’t need to fear, Mr. Kuroo. I’ll guarantee your protection if you do this for me.”

Kuroo chuckled to himself. Shutting the case back shut, he was quick to slide it to his side – deal done and closed. “If a lovely Princess is asking so nicely, I can’t possibly turn it down, can I?” pulling out a small notebook from his coat, Kuroo uncaps his pen with a twist of his teeth. “So let’s get into it. What story do you want, Ma’am? Do you want the truth or… something more scandalous than your husband’s affair?”

“I want you to ruin Iris,” you declared, “Inside that envelope is a list of people the Princess frequently interacts with, as well as records from her history dating back from when she moved here with mother. I want you to look into everything and pick apart whatever could destroy her reputation. There are secrets that she keeps, and I want them out in the public.”

Kuroo doesn’t bother writing that down. “Her reputation is well ruined already, Ma’am. I doubt much could make it worse.”

Your brow shoots up. “Are you doubting my abilities or questioning my demands?”

“Neither,” he reassured with a mischievous grin, “I shall write something about her, then, but what about the Crown Prince? Do I still have the assurance of your protection if he comes after me for messing with his precious little thing?”

Oh, please. His ‘precious little thing’ doesn’t even want him.

Spinning your wedding finger with your thumb, you stared at it. “Tell me, Kuroo. You’re a journalist, one that wasn’t invited at that private party my husband was in. So why were you there that night? Most importantly, how did you get their photos?” you brought your gaze back up to him, “You’re not secretly planning for the downfall of the crown, are you?”

Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness. But to answer your question, then no, I wasn’t invited. I wouldn’t even know a single thing about their affair if it wasn’t for one of you.”

“One of us?” you echoed, “Are you saying someone in the royal family hired you as well?”

“Indeed. Though I must say, I never expected working with just one of you could have me set for life. What more if I teamed up with you too?”

So your theories were right. That article didn’t appear out of nowhere – someone wanted it to happen. “It was Iris, wasn’t it? She asked you to publish that because she knew I was with her husband… but that wouldn’t make any sense. That article puts her in a bad light. It couldn’t be her, right?”

“You’ll be surprised, Ma’am, but it was not the Princess,” he clarified.

Kuroo’s face pinched in contemplation, and then suddenly, pulls out a different phone from his pockets. It’s a beat-up iPhone with its battery nearly dead, but with a few clicks here and there, the video played loud and clear. The camera is shaky, the angles all wrong. Whoever recorded it clearly seemed to be inebriated. Yet there it was – the unmistakable masculine voice groaning, the slapping of skin against each other, and a high-pitched womanly moan. The camera caught nothing but long, blond hair flowing on top of her bouncing breasts before the camera was flipped, finally showing the culprit –

“Atsumu?”

Atsumu gripped Yuki’s hips, shoving the phone between their bodies to show the pistoning of his cock in and out of her. There was no point denying it now. Both their faces were clear from the video, and if this got out…

Kuroo paused the video. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this, but the Prince hasn’t kept up to his end of the bargain, so I might as well ask for your help, too,” shutting the phone off, Kuroo rested his chin on his hands. “That night, he slept with an intoxicated actress and accidentally filmed themselves in the act. The Prince was drunk himself, made the mistake of posting that video online, and merely eighteen minutes later, any traces of their sex tape disappeared. Curious?”

The pieces of the puzzle finally fit.

“He called you to write about Iris and Rintaro to cover up his scandal.”

He snapped his fingers. “Bingo! And he succeeded, even if it was an impulsive decision on his side. Still, the Prince paid me handsomely because he was desperate, but he hasn’t offered me protection like he promised. I’m being hunted down by the Queen’s goons as we speak. Isn’t that why you offered to have me chauffeured here?”

You knew Kuroo prioritized his safety over money due to his current predicament. It was the reason why you risked sneaking out of the Palace and meeting him alone. His terms were clear – no witnesses, no guards, just you and him. You would keep to your word if it meant cornering Iris, but with Atsumu and that poor actress thrown into the mix… things just got more complicated.

Reaching out for Kuroo, you squeezed his hand. “You will be safe with me. I promise you this.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

You glanced at the iPhone between you two. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kuroo, but now that you know he’d do pretty much anything for money, you couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just Atsumu’s reputation you were worried about – firstly, Rintaro would kill him if he found out it was all his doing. Second, that poor actress. She rose to fame in her career recently; this would ruin her image. If things took the wrong turn, who was to stop the Queen from forcing the two to get married if that tape was leaked? You couldn’t risk any cracks in your plan.

“Kuroo, may I have that phone?”

“It’s all yours if you throw in another five grand, Princess.”

“Consider it mine then.”

You and Kuroo left immediately after everything was settled. Just as promised, you would cover all his travel expenses. He would stay overseas to ensure his protection while he reached out to his connections to get all the information he needed, and once the article was ready, he’d publish it and disappear from the media. You covered that too – he was paid enough to live comfortably while in hiding. Now, you only needed to wait for everything to go according to plan.

First, the downfall of Iris. Next, her separation with Kiyoomi without having to let Rin ascend to the throne. And once she’s finally out of the picture, you’ll move on to your beloved husband. You’ll seduce him, have him fall completely to your whim, make him realize he could never have anyone like you again – and once he’s wrapped around your finger, you’ll plea for divorce.

A heart for a heart. A marriage for a marriage.

And if the odds play into your favor at the end of it all, there’s only one destination in mind: Kiyoomi’s farmhouse in Itachiyama.

You smiled to yourself – it would work out. You had a good feeling about it. Kiyoomi is supporting you and acting as your spy, Kita is backing you up on the grounds for divorce, and the nation has unwaveringly showed their support for you in these trying times. After all, you were just the poor, neglected wife. They expected you to spend your days crying and chasing after your deceitful husband, or to simply take it all – be silent and smile for the cameras.

Fuck what the Queen said. You won’t let her win.

Driving back to the Palace, you glanced at the time. It’s almost four in the morning, and soon, Her Majesty would be beginning her routine and expecting her daily calls from the Princes. Pressing harder on the gas, you sped up until a glint catches your eye. You glance at the rearview mirror, eyes widening at the fast approaching car from behind – a sleek, black car with the royal family’s crest on it. Shit. But – it couldn’t be the royal guards. You’d made sure no one would see you, and Airi had gotten your note to slip some sleeping pills into Rintaro’s tea so you could sneak out. Kiyoomi was informed of your plans, too, and he’d reassured he’d hold the fort down while you dealt with Kuroo.

Unless Iris had snooped through his phone and found everything out, then –

You wasted no time. You drove faster, reaching for the gun in your glove compartment as the roaring of the car behind you moved in closer and closer. Heart pounding in your chest, you speed-dialed Kiyoomi, praying to any God who was listening that he would pick up. It couldn’t be Iris, it shouldn’t be her. God forbid she does anything to provoke you into pulling the trigger.

Infidelity was one thing, but the murder of a royal family member was not something one could merely frown at. You didn’t want to be thrown into jail.

The call did not push through.

“Fuck!” you slammed your feet on the gas, watching as the car sped up even more until it was now next to you. You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but the mammoth of trees and a never ending road with darkness clouding the path. Just then, the windows rolled down, and you waited with bated breath as the face finally came into view.

Dark hair was the first thing you saw. The windows rolled down, down, down, until you were staring deep into your husband’s eyes. Brow cocked, he smirked, raising the phone to show he’d been calling you – that’s why you couldn’t call Kiyoomi. Suna was interrupting the line. Shit, how was he even awake right now?

Moreover, how did he find you?

You scowled to yourself. There was no outrunning him now. Suna was a ridiculously good driver, and there was no way you would ever use a gun on him. Steeling yourself, you forced yourself to regulate your breathing – your efforts boon when Suna suddenly pressed on forward until he was a feet away from you, maneuvered his car with the hood facing your direction, and then just – stopped.

Bracing your hands on the wheel, you forced all your energy to release its power on the slamming of your brakes. The skidding of your car squeaked for what seemed like minutes until finally – finally – your came to a halt. You were breathing hard, the back of your head aching from the impact of it crashing to the headrest. Meanwhile, Suna opened his car doors in slow, languid movements, the ends of his leather black trench coat hitting the pavement. With nothing but the headlights of his car illuminating him, he looked more like an omen of death than a Prince – dressed in a white turtleneck, black pants, and a long coat that highlighted his tall figure. He looked ominous, like he carried sorrow and pain with him – pain that he was about to make you feel.

Because you knew – of course you knew; you knew him better than anyone – that the placid smile he wore was anything but.

He slammed the car doors shut. Leaning against the hood, Suna’s gloved hands reached for a lighter in his pocket as he lit his cigarette, the stick hanging from between his lips. As soon as it flickered, he pocketed the lighter back, using two of his fingers to make a ‘come hither’ gesture at you.

Clearly, you spoke too early. The odds were not in your favor.

You exited your vehicle, hands gripping the edges of the door as you gathered to courage to take one more step towards him. It wasn’t that you were afraid – he wouldn’t hurt you, not really. But too much could be taken away from you in such little time – Kuroo couldn’t have gone far, and Atsumu’s sex tape was still in the backseat. You didn’t trust Rintaro to not ruin your plans. And you wouldn’t let him, not now when you were so close to victory.

One step, two steps, three steps – your heels clicked against the road as you walked, making sure to keep your chin pointed north. Hips swaying to the side, you finally ended up before him – right between his spread legs – your husband leaning back at the hood of his car whilst he sized you up, his free hand resting behind him.

“Funny seeing you here,” he drawled out, his voice thick with barely-held back rage. “They told me you were sleeping, but last time I checked, driving while falling asleep was illegal.”

“Cheating is also illegal.”

“Your comebacks are getting old, my love.”

Your head snapped to his direction. He hadn’t called you that in forever, not since you’d returned from your honeymoon. To have him call you that now, with such a deeply rich, smooth voice and sounding like he’d just woken up, all breathy and rasp – could it be possible to fuck someone to death?

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” tipping his head to the side, Suna’s lips slowly formed into a smirk. He took a drag of his cigarette, keeping his eyes on yours as he wrapped those lips around the stick – delicately and tantalizingly slow – just like how he did when he worshipped you in bed. You breathed out hard and attempted to take a step back, but he was having none of it. Swiftly, he’d tugged on your shirt to pull you close to him, causing you to stumble and fall into his lap. Above you, your husband’s chest rumbled with amusement.

“Look at you. Always so weak for me.”

He leaned in close, his scent of smoke and expensive woodsy perfume enveloping you. It’s addicting, just as he is, and your knees grew weak. Your legs slid down just as Suna wraps a strong arm around your waist to hitch you back in place, your core resting above his thigh. There, he spreads you open with just his knees, his warm lips suddenly attaching themselves to your neck. You gasped out, hands falling to his shoulders in a measly attempt to pull him away – and oh.

Suna had different plans in mind.

“You,” he breathed in your ear, his gloved fingers popping the button of your blouse one by one. “cannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness. You can slip in as many drugs you want in my drinks, you can kill me a hundred times and fuck me over again and again, but don’t you dare forget,” growling lowly in your ear, your husband took your chin in his hands and forced you to gaze deep into his eyes – pools of hazel swirling with need and wrath – “Not even death can do us part. I’ll keep on looking for you even if you try to hide at the ends of the earth.”

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

first off, happy happy birthday to you!!!! Thank you for spoiling us on your birthday.

That being said, my heart is feeling angsty so I wanna request the prompt "Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't." for a fem reader x Kid (NSFW)!

Again, happy birthday lovely! :3

Hello! @limitlesstildil thank you sooo much for your birthday wishes and for your awesome prompt! Now, I've taken some liberties with it, but I do hope you don't mind! It's now a three part fic of Highlander!Kid, sharing the spotlight with another prompt (to be seen in the last chapter). The NSFW part was pushed forward too, okay? I hope this is still okay! Thank you so much for participating! ❤️

Source for Pic

Mine to Protect

Word Count: 4969

Tags for the whole story: Highlander!Kid; Fem!Reader; Alternate Universe - Scotland 13th century; Gore; Blood; Violence; Death; Mild Angst; Fluff; Nudity; Cursing; Sexual Tension; Explicit Sexual Content; Protective!Kid; Possessive!Kid; Soft!Kid; Feral!Kid; Jealous!Kid; Happy Ending; Sort of Enemies to Lovers; Teasing; Banter; NSFW; MDNI; Mature Audiences;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: Your father and his allied clans are at war, and you're a liability. When you're assigned a guard to protect you - against your will - you do everything in your power to infuriate him. The problem is that he can be more infuriating than you, as you're about to find out.

Notes: Okay... it's finally here! I coudn't hold out any longer. It turned out to be 16k words, so I've divided it in three (not equal parts because the splitting would be weird, obviously). I edited the first part and plan on editing the rest soon. I will have the entire fic out by the end of the week! Gosh... I'm very proud of this one, I do hope you enjoy, let me know!

Part 1 of 3

|Masterlist| | |Part 2| | |Part 3|

“I don't need a guard!” Your angered cry echoes down the halls of the keep, but the stationed guards at the entrance barely even flinch at your outburst since it’s a regular occurrence. 

You have been at odds with your father, the laird, since early morning and, as night approaches fast, he’s tired of arguing with you. But no matter how much you argue like a wild thing, plead as if he were a deity or present your arguments politely as a lady, he doesn’t budge.

“You need a guard!” Your father says with a firm growl of your name. “We are at war and you're an easy target, daughter!” You scoff, outraged at the insinuation. You might be a lady, but you know how to defend yourself and you’re a feisty creature. “I don't want to hear any more of what you have to say! Out with you! You'll meet your guard later.”

With a screech so loud it could make a banshee blush in embarrassment, you leave the chamber, stamping your feet like a bratty child, feeling much like one since, apparently, you need nannying. And, well, if you’re to be nannied like a baby, you might as well act like one, while you still can.

Passing by the kitchen, you grab a hemp sack and fill it with anything you can get your hands on: bread, fruit, salted meat and grains. It weighs like hell but you couldn't care less. You have a point to prove. 

You don’t need a guard. You can handle yourself.

Night falls quickly and you use the waning light of the sickle moon to guide your steps, the same ones you’ve taken since you were a child. The only difference is that now you’re facing wartime and the streets aren’t as safe as they used to be.

But the people need you and you won’t sit idly by while children starve.

-*-

He was supposed to introduce himself to you as soon as he arrived at the keep, but Kid likes to observe first, so he stuck to the shadows. Despite being big, bulky and muscular, he can move like one. When Kid spots you leaving the keep just as the moon appears in the sky, he realises you're going to be trouble. 

Kid’s sick and tired of being a nursemaid to stuck-up, entitled ladies who think they alone rule the world. Yet, here he is again, his body too broken to be a proper warrior, but not broken enough to be able to retire peacefully. 

With a heavy sigh and a curse, Kid follows you into town, all the while realising just how reckless you’re being with your actions. Your father hired him because of the war, which means nowhere is safe. Especially after nightfall. Especially if you’re a noble lady.

But you don’t seem to care.

He follows you around town while you knock on doors, delivering food and even some jewellery. He hasn’t even spoken to you and your actions are already intriguing him. He’s never met a noble lady who would willingly part with jewels, let alone give them to townspeople. 

Yet, he doesn’t let that cloud his judgement. You think you’re being inconspicuous as you parade around town wearing your expensive velvet cape, with an air about you that clearly states you’re regal. No town girl would have such perfectly braided hair, and fair skin, poised grace, and natural beauty, as well as an elegance to your movements. You’re a dead giveaway for who you are.

And that’s dangerous in these streets.

Tutting silently, Kid watches as you traverse a dark alleyway and, immediately, a group of brigands follows you, their eyes already glinting with greed and something else. Kid approaches, ready to intervene as he’s being paid to do. What he doesn’t expect, however, is the way you pull out two daggers from your thighs and start fending them off.

A grin pulls at the corner of his mouth as he realises you aren’t as defenceless as he thought you to be.

Slicing your way through the brigands, you manage to cut one on the arm and another across his torso, which only makes them more enraged, but Kid nods approvingly from the shadows. There’s more to you than just a pretty face. 

Then you make a mistake. You lose sight of the largest man in the group and he gets behind you, locking your arms and incapacitating you immediately. With a grunt, Kid pushes himself off the wall he was leaning on and grips his Lochaber axe with his good arm. Time to intervene.

It takes only the blink of an eye for him to reach you. His weak arm slams a punch to the jugular of the man pinning you, causing him to let go and fall to his knees, gasping for air. Pivoting, Kid slices another brigand with a swing of his long axe, his guts splashing to the floor with a sickening sound as the man screams himself into shock. With a thrust of the weapon, Kid immediately kills the remaining brigand by piercing his neck. 

He didn’t even break a sweat. 

“I’m not scared of you!” You say, breathing hard, pants escaping your parted lips and Kid can clearly see your fists trembling as you grip the handle of your blade. You mistook him for another brigand. Smirking, Kid takes one step forward and you gasp. “Don’t come any closer.” Your voice is firmer now, a hint of aggression in your words. Good. 

He still takes another step, and with a swing of the axe, he lunges. You shriek and tense up but open your eyes as soon as you hear another sickening slice and the unmistakable gargle of a man drowning in his own blood. Kid sliced the neck of the brigand who had pinned you at the beginning of the skirmish and was getting ready to run away.

“I said back away!” You lunge, place your foot wrong and throw your weight like an amateur. Kid scoffs and easily disarms you, raising an eyebrow as if asking if that’s all you’ve got. You huff and puff like a wild beast and lunge empty-handed this time, landing a punch on his chest which he barely feels. He chuckles again and you seethe, swinging again, trying to hit his jaw, but this time he stops your mid-air, twisting your body and pinning your arm behind your back.

“Yer swingin’ like ye’ve never thrown a proper punch, lass.”

-*-

You blush from the tips of your ears to your flaming cheeks as the man twists your arm further, making you wince. Who is he? He easily took down the brigands who attacked you, but he doesn’t look like a common thief. He moves like a warrior, even though his left arm seems slower and heavier. 

“Let me go!” You hiss, feeling his taut muscles press against your back.

“Ye did alright with the daggers, but there’s a lot to be said about yer footwork. Also…” His large, calloused hand reaches out as he pulls the hood of your cloak down, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck. “If yer gonna walk the streets of a war-torn town at night, ya better do it dressin’ like a commoner, no’ a noble, aye, lass?”

The nerve!

“Who are you, trying to tell me what to do? Let me go, right now!” He twists your arm more, and your hiss turns into a groan, but you refuse to scream in pain. You’re not going to give him that satisfaction, though it almost feels like your arm is about to fall out of its socket. 

“Who am I?” He chuckles. “That’s rich. I’m the one who just saved yer spoiled ass from gettin’ robbed. Or worse, lassie.”

You lower yourself, sensing a slight give in your arm as he loosens his grip, and elbow him hard in the stomach as you manage to break free from his grasp, hearing him grunt slightly. “I didn’t ask for your help, you brute.” You take two steps back, swiftly scanning the floor, hoping to find your fallen dagger. Since you can’t locate it, you focus back on the enemy, and your eyes widen as you finally take a good look.

He’s huge. Tall, bulky and built like a warrior, full of scars. His eyes and his hair are what make your breath catch in your throat: they’re fiery red. 

“Ye did no’, but ye sure as hell needed it.” He grins and takes another step forward, just to see you falter. “I’m no’ gonna harm ya, lass. I’m yer new guard. Yer da hired me.” He picks up the dagger you’ve been looking for but missed and hands it to you, handle first, along with the one he took. “Eustass Kid, at yer service.” 

By the resigned sound of his voice, he’d much rather be anywhere else but here. You snatch the daggers from his hands with a scowl. You’d much rather he be anywhere else as well but, alas, here you both are. 

“I don’t need a guard.” You grimace as you manoeuvre around the dead bodies, your stomach already used to the stench of blood by now, walk around Kid, and out of the alley, not even bothering to see if he’s following you. 

But of course he is. How is he so silent when he’s built like an Angus?

“Ya sure about that, lass?” His voice is clipped and dripping with sarcasm which just makes you grit your teeth as you quicken your pace. “Seemed like ya needed one back there, nae?”

“I had it covered!” You snap back, hands balled into fists as you stomp your way back into the keep. 

“Aye, I saw. Maybe I should’ve let ya finish, then. Were ye gonna use yer witty words on them? Pray they let ya go just because ya have a sharp tongue?” He scoffs and you stop abruptly, pivoting with a finger in the air, your eyebrow raised high.

“I don’t appreciate the mockery, you don’t even know me.”

He leans down, his face inches from yours with that infuriating grin on his lips. “Aye, I know ya well enough tae paint a pretty picture, lass. Stubborn, reckless, proud.” His hand rises and he stabs a finger against your forehead, pushing you back with just the strength of that one digit. “Prancin’ around a war-torn town in fancy clothes, screamin’ yer noble and ready tae be robbed… aye, real smart, lass!”

You swat his hand away with the swing of your arm, growling as your temper flares. “You don’t know shit!”

“Ohhh.” He laughs, this time, a hearty laugh that sends a tingle down your spine. “Witty and foul-mouthed? What cannae that tongue do?”

“What am I supposed to do, then? Behave like a proper lady and stay in my keep, filling my belly while my people die of starvation? I don’t think so.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise your chin high, defying the infuriating man to say something else. 

“No’ what I’m sayin’, lass. But at least have some sense about it.” The grin fades and his voice hardens as he becomes serious. “There’s a war ragin’ and the street’s nae place for a noble woman. And there’s a difference between bravery and stupidity. Guess which one yer tippin’ on, right now?”

Is he serious? 

You don’t even grace that remark with a proper answer. There’s no use fighting with this man. You told your father you didn’t need a guard and he went and got you the most infuriating one of the lot!

Just my luck.

-*-

You’re so pissed that  you have a shadow following you everywhere, that you don’t leave your room for the next three days, hoping he gets bored and just leaves. 

He doesn’t.

On the fourth day you’re the one who’s bored so as the sun rises, so do you. You take your breakfast in peace, your guard nowhere to be seen because you’re in the keep where it’s safe. You can almost feel him as you walk around your own home. It’s a prickling at your nape, a sensation that makes you want to caress your neck. It tingles.

Days pass and you avoid making conversation with him at all costs. You keep running away from him, trying to evade his ever-present shadow, but you fail every time. More than once you think you finally did it, only to find him leaning against a wall –trademark, infuriating smirk in place– or for him to appear whenever you're about to be robbed. 

That is also why you now avoid going into town delivering food. The increase in attacks gives your guard the satisfaction of saving you and it only infuriates you. He shadows you everywhere, always wearing that smug smirk or his infinitely bored expression. He’s insufferable. 

The morning breaks like many others but you’re so frustrated you need to vent. So you pick up a sword and decide to take your anger out on the dummies in the courtyard. The sword feels heavy in your hands since you’re more used to daggers, but the recent attacks got you thinking that perhaps the gruff guard made a valid point. It’s wartime. Two measly daggers aren’t gonna save you. The sword might.

You start swinging, hitting the dummy but not making real damage, and then you sense him watching you. That damn prickling again, it’s like a pressing need at your nape. You let out a growl paired with a curse, and a bit of straw flies out of the dummy as you strike it again. 

“Ya swing that sword like yer holdin’ a broom.” You stop, take a deep breath and don’t turn around, going for the dummy again and trying your best to ignore the annoying prick. “Yer form’s all wrong.” He continues and so do you. Whack, whack. “That’s a good way tae get killed, lass.”

Pivoting around to face him, jaw clenched and knuckles white from gripping the sword, you show him your best leave me the fuck alone look. “If you have nothing useful to say, then stay quiet!”

“Feisty.” He replies with a chuckle and you grunt in exasperation. 

You give him a few more moments of your time, eyebrows raised in defiance as you wait for more remarks, but he raises his hands in the air and you turn your back to him, continuing your dummy slaughter. 

It doesn’t take long for him to speak again. “Yer still holdin’ it wrong. Yer gonna hurt yerself first before ye hurt someone else.” You sense him approaching but don’t turn. “But, aye, let’s just be stubborn as a mule, that also works.”

Your head whips back so fast you’re certain you pulled a muscle. “Are you calling me a mule?”

“Just sayin’ yer as stubborn as one.” He takes another step, his head leaning to the side as he observes you and you feel yourself flush under his gaze. “Yer too stiff, relax yer grip on the handle.”

“I didn’t ask for your advice.” You bite back, venom in your voice and fire in your eyes.

“Lucky ye, here I am offerin’ it just the same.”

“Screw you.” You mutter but still relax your grip on the handle as he says.

“Maybe later.” He grins as you scoff, then invades your space, his hands pushing your shoulders down, the touch sending a shock through your system. “I said relax, no’ stiffen more, lass.”

You shoot him a sideways glance but still do as he says, relaxing your shoulders and your hands. 

Then he nudges your feet with his own, spreading your legs into a wider stance. “Open yer legs wider for me lass, will ye? Now try again.” You flush crimson at the insinuation but still do as he says, though you keep grumbling. When you swing though, the hit actually cuts through the dummy and you gasp. “See? Yer actually capable.” You grin, a small smug smile curving your lips. “It’s no’ that yer a good student, I’m just a great teacher.”

And there goes your good mood.

“Insufferable.” You bite back.

“That too. But damn good.”

You stop your swing mid-air and turn to him, lifting your blade to his chest. “You know, maybe I should stop practising on dummies and start practising on you.” The smirk you give him is devious. 

“Ye cannae take me, lass.”

Glaring at him through lowered lashes, you raise your chin. “Try me.”

His eyes darken and the tingling sensation at your nape intensifies tenfold. You see him tense up but you don’t wait to see what he does next. You lunge forward, sword raised, relaxed grip and a wide stance –like he taught you just now– and he easily swings out of the way. 

With a frustrated grunt, you pivot to swing your sword to the left, where he dodged, and he evades you again, a small smirk tugging the corners of his lips. You suck a deep breath through your nose before letting it out slowly through your mouth, centering yourself. Then you swing again, leg planted firmly on the ground for support.

Kid hits your elbow from below, twisting your arm and disarms you with a quick flick of his hand –the sword clatters to the floor– then, in a second he has you in his grip, your back flushed against his chest, one of his hands at your throat and his other arm pinning you against him, rendering you immobile. 

Damn.

He’s intoxicating. His scent lingers everywhere and the warmth of his body against yours crackles and burns. 

“Yer easy.” He whispers against your ear and it’s a caress that travels down your neck, through your nipples and into your throbbing core. Fuck.

“Let me go.” Lacing your voice with authority doesn’t get you far, as your words fall empty and shaky. 

“Make me.” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, sending goosebumps down your neck. “Yer no’ as tough as you think, lass.” He’s well aware of the effect he’s having on your traitorous body, and he’s using it.

Two can play that game.

You turn your head to the side and tilt your chin up, your movements slightly constricted by the hand on your throat, and brush your lips against the exposed skin of his neck. “I’m not what?” Your hot breath fans his skin and you notice how it prickles before his jaw tightens and he loosens his hold. You use that opening to your advantage and shove him, taking a step away from him and almost gaining your freedom back –he doesn’t let you.

With a swift movement his arm envelops your waist and he pulls you to him again as you let out a frustrated groan. “It’s over, lass. Yer done.” There’s more gruffness in his voice now.

“I’m not done until I say I am.” You bite back, struggling to free yourself but he’s not even making an effort to hold you against him. 

“Yer stubborn.”

“Aye! We’ve established that already. It also means I’m tenacious!”

“Ya dinnae know when tae quit, nor when tae ask for help.” He twists you in his arms with surprising ease and now you’re facing him as he places his hands on your shoulders. “Ye need tae learn tae trust someone besides yerself.”

“Trust you?” You begin and thank the gods your voice is still stable.

“Aye. I’m here tae protect ya.”

You scoff and turn your eyes away from him, his words hitting too close to the mark, making you uncomfortable. You don’t need guards and you definitely don’t need Eustass Kid as your guard. 

“You’re the last person I would trust.”

Kid removes his hands from your shoulders and takes a step back. His jaw ticks and clenches as he nods. 

“Understandable. I’ll be around, anyway, lass.”

He turns to leave and your body suddenly feels cold, though it’s still tingling from the earlier blaze. His words hang heavy in the air around you. Trust. How can you trust somebody other than yourself if you’ve been doing that your whole life?

-*-

Weeks pass and you’re getting more used to Kid being your shadow. You fight like cats and dogs. He’s insufferable and you’re, in his words, a brat. No accidents have happened while you deliver food and money to the surrounding towns, but you know that’s because nobody dares to attack you while Kid is around. His imposing figure is threat enough for any brigand who wishes to rob you. 

You train a few more times with him watching but he doesn’t give you any more pointers and you start to think that maybe it was your trust comment that got him angry at you. 

Like I care.

You try to fool yourself, but you do care. He’s not the best company but he’s not the worst. If you take away the amused snickers, the mocking undertones in his words, or his gruffness, he’s perfectly tolerable. Though he gets under your skin like no one else.

That, and the tingling sensation that doesn’t seem to go away. To add to it, there’s also a throbbing of need in your core that nights alone, pleasuring yourself, cannot push away. You hate the fact that you loathe your guard almost as much as you desire him, and that alone drives you insane. You're hyper-aware of the way his muscles flex as he moves, the grunts he releases when he exerts himself and his strong scent of steel, sweat and leather. Even worse, all you can think about is how those muscles would flex as he handles your body, or how his grunts would sound as he sinks deep into you and how you'd be smelling him on yourself afterwards. It's overwhelming. 

There's the heat and throbbing again, at your core, in your nipples, everywhere! Fuck. 

“Lass?” His voice near your ear almost releases an unbridled moan from you, since you were lost in thought, so you groan and get up from the dining table where you were reading some letters, stomping your foot. 

“I’m going to bed!”

You don’t even look back at him. 

-*-

You retired early but sleep doesn't come easily. You overheard your father's meeting today and learned that there's been unrest at the borders and another clan abandoned your cause to join the opposing army. 

You're concocting a plan to gather information from the warfront that could tip the scales of the war, and if all goes well, you'll have it by the end of the week. 

You toss again in your bed, kicking the covers off with a loud groan. It's unusually hot for the middle of the night. The window is open but there's hardly any breeze, making it difficult to sleep. It doesn't help that your mind keeps drifting to an insufferable redhead –and how there's just a wall separating you. 

Eventually sleep claims you, and you drift into a dreamless slumber. 

You're jolted awake by a calloused hand clamped over your mouth, as another rips the front of your nightgown. You try to scream as you open your eyes, meeting the lecherous gaze of a scrawny, dark-haired man. He’s trying to grope you as his filthy fingers press against your lips with such force, you're sure they will leave bruises. 

If you survive. 

“Aye, bonnie lass, keep thrashing. I don't like it when lasses lose their fight.” He's untying his breeches with one hand, pinning your arms beneath his legs, his weight pressing down on your torso, and panic floods you. You need to make noise. It's the only way to alert Kid. “I was gonna just rob ya, but ye looked so pretty with yer legs bare. I had to touch ya.” 

His hand leaves his pants to grope your bare thigh and you whimper. Then you remember that you can fight back and bite down hard on the hand that's covering your mouth. He yanks his hand back with a yelp, and – gagging at the lingering taste– you take advantage of the distraction and unbalance him. Grabbing the oil lamp from the bedside table, you smash it against his head, scattering scalding oil over his head, your hand, and legs.

The pained groan that escapes your lips brings tears to your eyes as your skin begins to burn and blister. The bastard is in worse shape, but you don’t look too long. Swinging your aching legs to the side, you try to get up and away from him, but he pins you again, spittle flying from his mouth as he leans closer, the angry red welts from the oil are already forming blisters across his face. 

“Burn me ya bitch? Ye’ll pay for this!” 

But before he can act, the door crashes open, nearly flying off its hinges, and Kid enters, his eyes burning with rage as soon as he sets eyes on the scene unfolding in front of him. He’s shirtless and you can’t help but gasp at the enormous scars covering his torso and left arm –a continuation of the ones trailing down his face and neck, scars you hadn’t yet seen. 

“Get the fuck away from her.” His growl vibrates low and deadly and you sense the man shiver for a second. He yanks you up, his filthy hand clawing at your exposed chest, forcing your back against him as he cowers behind you. A small dagger presses against your throat, and you immediately feel a trickle of hot blood running down your neck.

Kid growls again, a feral sound that bristles the hairs in your body and you smell urine as the man behind you leaks his bladder with fear. “Don’t come any closer!” He squeaks, pressing the dagger harder and you whimper softly at the sting of the blade.

Kid hesitates, then stops. One hand grabs his Lochaber axe, the other, a small dagger. You lock eyes with him and then you lower them to the dagger he’s holding, a steely determination purses your lips and you hope he understands you. “Kid, I trust you.” 

He exhales a breath, flips the dagger in his hand, catching it by the tip, and throws it in your direction. It takes a blink of an eye for you to hear the sickening thud as the blade pierces the man’s skull through the forehead, killing him instantly. Then it takes you another blink of an eye to waver forward and away from the man’s crumpling, smelly body, but in less than that time, Kid is by your side, holding you, pulling you against him with another one of his wordless grunts that, somehow, tells you much more about his relief than his words ever would. 

“Lass, yer alright?” His clipped tone masks the slight quiver in his voice, but it’s there, barely noticeable. You nod, still too shocked with what happened to do much more and Kid sits you on the bed, settling beside you. The man must’ve entered through the open window, you think, as Kid fumbles with your bedcovers, pulling a blanket loose and draping it over you. It dawns on you that your breasts were exposed and you should care, but you don’t. 

As the fabric brushes the blisters on your hands and legs, you hiss, jerking slightly. Kid’s eyes trace the red welts marking your skin. Each new one he finds just deepens his scowl. “Fucker.”

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’ll put some honey and knitbone poultice on it. It will heal.” 

“Lass…” His tone softens as his rough hands gently touch your cheeks on the area near your mouth, clearly seeing the beginnings of the bruise the man’s fingers left there. He tips your chin up to inspect the small cut the man’s dagger left on your throat. “Ye did well, but ye’ve been through hell. Let’s get ya cleaned up.” He tries to move you but you shake your head, your breath coming in gasps as the shock sets in. Kid grips your shoulders, trying to ground you. “Oi, oi, it’s over, look at me lass. Look at me.”

Tears stream down your face, blurring your vision, but you focus on his fiery eyes, your lifeline in the midst of a violent storm. “Ye did well. Ye defended yerself. But I’m here for ye, I told ye.” His hand moves up, the caress lingering softly against your cheek, a gentle contrast to his usual harshness. “Dinnae try tae do everythin’ yer own. Ask for help. I’m here for ye.”

A ragged sob makes your lips tremble and you shake your head, swatting his hand away with more force than necessary. “Stop pretending that you care! We both know you don't. You're just a hired sword and I’m a spoiled brat. So stop trying to make me feel better!”

Your breathing quickens as your heart hammers in your chest. The tears don’t stop, everything hurts and you feel so alone. You decided to trust him and he didn’t fail you so why do you feel like this? 

Because he’s paid to protect you. He’s paid to take care of you. He doesn’t really care.

Suddenly Kid leans forward, pulling you against his chest, his hand cradling your head as his lips brush the crown of your head. You cry, releasing hot tears against his bare skin. 

It’s comforting.

“I care.” He says softly, barely a whisper against your hair. “Yer mine tae protect.” A few moments pass in silence and comfort, only broken by your sobs and sniffs. The keep is quiet. You thought you’d screamed loud enough to wake the townspeople, let alone the whole house. But you must’ve been quiet, for only Kid heard you.

Kid cares. 

He cares for you.

To Be Continued...

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia

|Part 2|

[chantiying]

Message from your inner child

Before to start, sorry for any mistakes or grammar error. English is not my first language. How to choose? Think of something you liked when you were a child (a game, a toy, a smell, a candy, your favorite stuffed animal) and try to remember you as a kid, take a deep breath and when you're ready, you and your inner child choose the image that drawn to you. Remember tarot is not set on stone and you can change your path whenever you want. This is for entertainment purposes. This reading is general so if it doesn't resonate with you just let it go

: ¨·.·¨ :

` ·. 🦋

╱|、

(˚ˎ 。7

|、˜〵

じしˍ,)ノ

TW. Direct or indirect mention of abuse, bulling, violence, familial violence, broken family among others.

Ok, let's go!!!

PILE 1

Hello my friend :) Do you remember how disastrous our childhood was? Do you remember that there were some people who hurt us? Remember when we were pushed aside from parties? Do you remember when we found out that sometimes the "love" of a couple is not two but three? Remember when we found out what infidelity meant? Come, here and close your eyes for a moment, because I want to tell you a secret but I don't want you to see me are you ready? Yes? Ok: the infidelity of our parents marked me

I know since then we don't know what it means to love or how to make a relationship work. I know it's a lot harder for you than it was for me. I know sometimes you wonder if you're loving too little or too much, I know you're scared of being harmed like mom and dad did. Do you still feel that strange feeling of isolating all noise with music or the TV on while we sit on the floor of the room begging for it all to end? I do love you, my friend :) I know it seems a little difficult, I know it seems a little hard to say and hear, I know you may not believe it because they made you doubt what it means to love someone, but, I'll let you in on another secret: I don't feel alone anymore. I've learned that sometimes we have to leave where the water overflows to build a better castle. I learned to be smarter and not to argue when it's not necessary, to stop talking where no one listens, to live with myself and with you.

Please, I know it's not easy, but I want you to start again, on your own, I want you to leave everything behind, to let the dragons (they are not bad I already talked to them and they said they are on our side) I want you to let them destroy what hurts us, and to start building your own fortress. I want to be your first beautiful relationship. I want that you love me because I love you and I will always love you. Please love me, okay? Let's be you and me (km little you, hehe) against everyone. I want to be your partner in crime and have us laugh together. I promise you that after that, we're going to smile more and forget what they did to us.

You also have to eat well, did you hear me? Oh and don't tell anyone, but, I'm craving our favorite sweet treat from when we were little, can you eat it for us?

I'm always with you, don't forget me, I'm you but in little. Oh, something else, let's pretend it's your birthday, yei ! let's be happy for today and close your eyes again and make a wish

Francis Forever Mitski, Innocent Taylor Swift. Grey, Purple, Blue. Leaves & Streets. Orange juice?, Music, Cartoons, Headphones, Magic Wand. Mulan (I'll Make a Man Out of You)

🧸🎂🎈🍫 🧸🪄🎈🍫

PILE 2

Hey!!! What's up, buddy? I am very happy, I feel that I have arrived where I needed to be, I feel that the sun has finally risen, I feel that all the changes I had to go through have now paid off. The knowledge, the peace, the beliefs, everything I needed to cultivate is bearing fruit. See? I even speak as someone cultured and intellectual 😸. At first I didn't notice it, I was incredulous, but then I started thinking and thinking and thinking, and I realized that the change started in the interior. I know, you don't have to tell me, it sounds very cheesy, it sounds silly, but, I must admit, even if it's a little embarrassing, that sometimes dreaming and being cheesy is kind of fun SO DON'T MAKE FUN OF ME 😾😹. Ok, let's be serious, mate. We went through a time where we didn't believe in anything and we didn't even know if we should believe but I kept doing it. I kept looking until I got to where I needed to and BOOM it all made sense. Our lives are going to get better, we're better now, we're brave, we're smart, we're strong, we're cool !! We still have to keep learning, we still have a long way to go, but I learned that learning is also fun. DON'T GIVE UP, OK? Ok. I know it's hard to grow, but we've always wanted this, we've never bowed down, we've never given up, we've always looked forward and we'll continue to do so

Keep in your heart the ones who help you and give you happy moments, then let's continue writing our story

No matter how many steps forward you take, whether it's one or two or a thousand, I'll always be there proud of where you've taken us and what an amazing person you've made us. I only ask you to never forget where you come from and where you are going, don't forget to be grateful, don't play with anyone's heart or time, that's not good 😾. I want you to appreciate the time and I want that, when you think that the world is against you, or that everything is going wrong, you can change it. Don't worry, I don't want you to blame yourself for everything, but I also don't want you to always blame it on others. I know sometimes it's hard, keep trying again and again, even if you're scared don't don't victimize yourself because heroes don't do that, and you and I have the prettiest cape, we have the cutest glitter and we have the best superhero story just for us, and don't be afraid, because superheroes can do anything and if we can't our superhero friends will help us 😼

Let's be great, let's be epic!

Disney, A lot of changes or currently changing something, Happiness, Beach, Comics, Sun, Summer, Ice cream, Watch, Hats, Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride, Hannah Montana, Vacation, Pop en español (Pop in Spanish), Extrovert, Mischievous, Spider man? Funny, Tangled (the movie)

🦸, 👨‍🚀, 🐱, 🚀

PILE 3

There are two of us, we are yourself and I, and it has always been like this ☺️, do you feel confused? Because I do, a little bit, you won't get mad if I tell you, right? You'll understand, right? I feel like everything is going so fast, I feel like I can't stop, I feel like I want to rest, I feel like when I wanted the geography or math hour to end and go out for recess to get some fresh air. why is everything going so fast? I want to understand what's going on, I want to, I really want to, but I can't. Do you no longer feel distrustful? Do you believe in other people yet? Because I don't do it yet 🥺, do we have friends yet? Or are we still alone? Are they still hurting us? Are we still unsafe? I don't want to be like that anymore, I promise you, (crying?) I want to have a lot of friends, I want to be loved, I want to play, I want to have fun, but I can't believe in others, do you? I don't want to be alone, I know I said it was you and me, and I still believe it, it's you and me against the world, but I also want us to be more against the world. I want someone to turn on the light and hold my hand, would you? I want you to hug me, talk to me, I feel like you're mad at me, at the little you from a few years ago, did I do something wrong? Do you think it was my fault that we were treated like this? Do you think it was my fault that we were disappointed? I'm a little annoyed with you too, not gonna lie. you know what? I was a kid but you have everything to change what happened to us, you pretend that it doesn't hurt anymore and that's a lie! you're still upset and scared, listen, it's ENOUGH! Do something for us. At least I'm angry but I want us to change this, I want us to be happy. I want us to be together and happy, I want us to be one, I want you to remember me, but not only the bad but the good as well, remember what we like, remember the watercolors, the music we liked, remember the sun, the window, remember the yard, remember the stories that mom/dad used to tell us. Remember Mom/Dad. Remember the puddles after the rain. Please, I'm not asking you to want to be a child again to do everything differently, I'm asking you to connect with me so that our creativity flies, so that you know where to go, so that you can start something new.

The magic is in us, accept us, what you don't want to let out, is what makes us most beautiful

You will get what you want, but don't want everything, don't be ambitious. Don't forget us, don't forget you, never forget yourself.

Sadness, Grudge, Sobbing, Poverty (both spiritual and economic), Pranks, Bullying, Grass, Secret place, 8 years? Cold, Scams, Rain, Mirror, Emojis. Monsters, inc. As a child, Madeline The Person. J's lullaby (darling I'd wait for you), Delaney bailey. All I want, Kodaline. Rises the moon, Liana Flores

ꗃ🗝₊˚⊹♡ 𓉞 . ⸙͎｡˚⋆ 𓋼

Hi guys! Sorry for the late update. To be honest I struggle being consistent in what I do, but I'm trying (no, I'm really trying) to be more consistent.

Today, is children's day in my country, so I decided to do this spread for you all, because I consider that connecting and embracing our inner child is one of the most healing things we can do. So happy Children's Day !!

Alic (Chanty) 🪽

[sunlighthroughthe-ashes]

i want to talk about how tenderly and tactfully the subject of trauma has been handled in family by choice. full credit to the original c-drama for the story — but the remake is my first introduction to the show and its premise.

families can be a person's first experience of a wound: that single unanswerable ache from which each of your hurts flow and fountain forward. it's rare for k-dramas to acknowledge this: to acknowledge that the individual to whom you are born may not belong to you. may not give you the grace you require to grow. may not take your small, hot hand; hungry for solace — and instead simply cast it aside. your family can be your first sharp disappointment — your first clear shock at the sheer ugliness of the world. to some, love is freely given — to others it is nothing more than a bone flung from a scant table. you hug the hunger like it's your own bed-pillow — it becomes your only home. the only house you ever live in.

through sanha & haejun's characters; one can see how the talons of trauma can mark you forever. both actors deserve accolades for the raw desperation and confusion in their eyes at the weight they're being asked to carry — especially inyoup. there's a muted, exhausted malaise in his eyes — the gaze of an adult caged within a teenager's body. by contrast, haejun appears younger than his years — a helpless, childlike hurt and betrayal borne by his eyes. both boys carry boulders unfit for such delicate shoulders — because there is a special kind of cruelty in asking a child to bear a burden that was never theirs to begin with. in lining their shoes with the gravel of grief since they were old enough to walk.

what does it to do to a child (in haejun's case) to be told that love is not intrinsic — and that it has to be earned? that it has to be paid back? what does it do to a child (in sanha's case) to be told that you are not enough as your own self — that you will never be forgiven for a flaw that was never yours to start with? what does it mean to taste a parent's neglect on your own tongue — to have it tint every part of your speech for the rest of time?

what does it mean to be a father to such children — as juwon's appa so fiercely upholds? to treat their scars as sacred. to harbor their hurts in his own hands. family by choice is as much about trauma as it is about healing — about the people knitted to you through their knowledge of your wounds; their patience with your past; their trust that your tears are temporary. about the neighbors, friends, and forged bonds that may not be of blood, yet sustain you nonetheless; surround your spirit with warmth. the people who choose you knowing the charred heartbreak in your chest — who love and accept you knowing the latticework of your loneliness: the people who press it all away with a single touch or smile – they are your true faith. they are your true family. they are the only ones who matter.

sanha, haejun, and juwon all have their crosses to bear — but they also have each other. there is always light to temper the dark. there is always sanha's eyes; and the way they soften when he looks at juwon: the jewel-toned reverence with which he reflects on every single thing she does for him. wherever there is trauma there is also and always a tryst with hope — a heart holding on to the idea that there will be more. there will be peace. there will be resolution. there will be sunlight at the end of the black silence.

family by choice reminds me of this quote by poet and novelist ocean vuong: "we were born from beauty. let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence—but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it."

[ironstrange1991]

Breakfast

Pairing: Supreme!Strange x Fem!Reader (Doctor Strange and Defender Strange are mentioned)

Synopsis: Supreme wakes up in the morning and decides he'll have the reader for breakfast.

Word Count: 1,2k

Warnings: SMUT: oral sex with female receiving, unprotected p n v sex, quickie, cum eating.

A/N: This one is short and I was really sleepy while editing, so please, pretend you guys didn't see the typos or grammar mistakes. Hope you like it and have a nice reading.

You woke up in the morning earlier than usual. Supreme was sleeping on his stomach, one arm under the pillow he had folded in half, the other around your waist keeping you impossibly close to him. His breathing was soft and steady, his face was turned towards you, calm and peaceful. The sheet he had used to cover himself during the night was bunched up between his legs, leaving his glorious muscular ass exposed.

You allowed yourself to admire him in all his glory for a moment and then got up, took a shower and went downstairs to prepare breakfast.

You weren't given to great inventions in the kitchen, always preferring that Defender cooked for you, but there were some things you could do and do well. That was the case with breakfast. You decided on eggs and bacon, some chopped fruit and pancakes with raspberries.

Because you were so distracted with your work, you didn’t notice when someone approached you and hugged you from behind, wrapping their arms around your waist and pushing a very obvious erection against your hip. Before you even wondered who it was, he made a point of kissing your neck, rubbing his clean shaved face on your skin until he was right in your ear. "So you leave me alone in bed to come and prepare breakfast for the others..."

His baritone voice never failed to make your skin prickle.

"It's for you too. I was going to go upstairs and wake you up."

"Hum. I thought it was my day to have you all to myself." He protested gently biting your ear and you had to concentrate a lot to be able to flip the pancake in the pan before it burned.

"Your day was yesterday. Today is Monday, technically everyone's day." You responded knowing he wouldn't like that answer.

The two of you were still on a sort of honeymoon and Supreme had turned out to be even more jealous than you initially imagined.

He turned off the heat on the stove without asking you to do so, and with a quick movement he bent you over the huge solid wooden table. His hands were quick to lift the oversized t-shirt you were wearing that obviously didn't belong to you, it was one of Stephen's old band t-shirts.

"No shorts? Is that how you walk around this house?" He groped for the waistband of your panties and pulled them down with such violence that you could hear the delicate fabric tearing.

"Stephen!" You scolded him. That was one of your favorites.

"Shh. No shorts, wearing panties that barely cover your pussy... What do you expect from that? Oh I know, you wanted this, didn't you?" He slapped your ass.

"I just wanted to make breakfast." You gasped.

He knelt down and without warning he stuck his head between your cheeks and started licking your pussy, sucking and making you produce more and more of that nectar that he liked so much.

"Stephen… the others will see us here."

You didn't know exactly if that was allowed, it wasn't something that was pre-defined between you. But something made you think that was exactly what he wanted to happen.

"Let them see!" Supreme stood up and quickly freed his cock from its confinements. He rubbed the tip on your entrance and with a flat hand on your back forced you to bend over even more until your breasts and face were glued to the cold wood.

He teased some more, rubbing the tip against your clit making you moan softly and your legs shake begging him to finally take you.

"Tell me what you want, honey."

You bit the corner of your lip surrendering to him. "I want you Steph. Fuck me, but be quick, we don't have much time."

"That's my girl." He entered you with a single firm thrust and kept his pace fast and merciless exactly how you liked it.

"Oh, fuck honey, this pussy makes me crazy. So fucking good."

He grabbed your hip with one hand and your shoulder with the other to balance his thrusts and you moaned loudly, totally unaware of anything other than the two of you fucking on the kitchen table.

“Shit, you take cock so well, such a hungry little pussy..."

"Stephen...I'm gonna cum." You almost screamed the words.

He moaned loudly and pulled out to which you protested. He turned you around to face him and made you sit on the table and then entered you again. Your legs wrapped around his back. His lips never left your neck, sucking and leaving marks there for the other Stephens to see.

For Supreme Strange, everything was a competition.

"Oh, I love you, honey." He cooed totally lost in his own pleasure and you could feel his thrusts getting irregular, his balls tightening, his cock pulsing violently inside you.

You cupped his face making him look at you "Gonna cum for me, Steph?"

He kissed you passionately "Only after you."

You moaned loudly feeling his body pushing you towards your orgasm and you didn't fight him, instead you surrendered to him. Your head fell back, your eyes closed, your lips turned into a big O as you were washed by the feeling of ecstasy that Stephen insisted on prolonging with each thrust that strategically reached your sweet spot.

"That's right, honey, give it to me."

When you felt your orgasm slowly and lazily dying away, Stephen pulled out and pulled you off the table.

"On your knees, honey, I want to fill your mouth with my milk."

You obeyed eagerly and he thrust against your mouth a few times until he started cumming.

"Oh shit... your mouth feels so good, honey. Take all of it. Drink all my milk, don't waste a drop."

You did your best to swallow it all, but Stephen's first morning cum was always a huge load. Even with your efforts some still dripped down the corners of your mouth, but you were quick to scoop it up with your fingers and suck them one by one.

Stephen watched with a satisfied smile on his lips and helped you get up. He kissed you tenderly and picked up what was left of your panties from the floor and stuffed them into his pants pocket.

"I'll buy you a new set, I promise." He informed sheepishly, but you weren’t mad about the panties, not really. So you gave him your best smile and pulled down the t-shirt that did little to hide your naked ass.

"Sit down, I'll finish making you breakfast." You said giving him a sweet kiss on the lips.

He did as you said, but kept his eyes glued to you the entire time.

"Maybe you'd better put something on first, honey."

You shrugged, turning on the heat on the stove again and pouring in more pancake batter to fry, and you both heard Stephen and Defender coming down the stairs, talking to each other  and approaching and you couldn't help but giggle at the look on Supreme's face.

"You had yours, Steph. If they want it, they'll have theirs too. Those are the rules, remember?"

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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[sequinsmile-x]

Morning Light

Five different Father's Days in Aaron's life.

-x-

Hi friends,

So, this got away from me. Massively. But I can't help myself - I love these '5 times' type fics.

I really hope you enjoy this, and if today is a hard day for you please know I am holding space for you.

This is largely very very soft. So I hope you enjoy it!

Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 6k

Warnings: None! Some, small, bits of angst because I am who I am but nothing that wouldn't be in canon.

Parings: Hotchniss. Brief Haley/Aaron

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

When he wakes up, the house is strangely quiet. 

The gentle silence he’d been used to before Jack was born was gone, the slow lazy mornings he and Haley had once enjoyed a thing of the past. He didn’t miss it, didn’t look back on it fondly like he thought he might, but rather he enjoyed the chaos that seemingly came with having an 8-month-old in the house. 

He groans as he sits up, rubbing his eyes with one hand and reaching over to the other side of the bed with the other. He frowns when he feels nothing but cool sheets, a sign his wife has been up for quite some time, and he stands up, suddenly desperate to seek her out on a rare Sunday morning when he wasn’t away on a case. As he steps out into the hallway he hears her downstairs, a smile breaking out over his face as the sound of her humming to herself, something she always did when she was cooking, travels up the stairs. 

He hovers in the doorway of the kitchen for a moment, taking the opportunity to watch her as she splits her attention between the fruit she’s slicing up, the waffle maker in front of her, and Jack sitting in his high chair, oatmeal spread across his face. It was moments like this, watching her as a wife and a mother, that it really struck him how long he’d known her, how long he’d loved her. She’d turned from a slightly rebellious teenager who once convinced him to pierce his ear to the woman right in front of him, grown with him as he did everything he could to ensure he would never repeat his father’s mistakes, that this home would be one free of the violence that had spread through his childhood home like the blackest of mould. 

“What’s all this?” He asks, his smile only getting wider when she jumps, her hand on her chest as she looks up at him, her eyes narrowed as Jack’s giggle fills the room. 

“Jesus, Aaron,” she mutters as he walks over, leaning into his touch despite her irritation, a smile dancing across her face as he kisses her cheek, “I need to get you a bell or something.” 

“Sorry, love,” he replies, kissing her cheek again, “I could have made breakfast.”

He usually did when he was home. It was something he did to try to make up for the times work took him away, a gesture he knew didn’t truly split the load his wife had mostly carried since their son was born. He was starting to see the cracks appearing, how she’d barely hide her annoyance sometimes when a call came through, as if there was anything he could truly do about it. 

“Not today,” she says, smiling at him as she gets on her tiptoes to stamp a kiss against his lips, “Happy Father’s Day.” 

He chokes on a laugh, his smile slightly disbelieving as he looks down at her, pulling her closer with his hand on her back. It was a day that had never meant anything good to him. It had gone uncelebrated in his home for as long as he could remember, his mother’s attempts to acknowledge it diminishing as the years went by, finally disappearing once his father died, any pretence that he’d been a man worth celebrating dying with him. 

“Father’s Day?”

She playfully rolls her eyes at him, a glint to her smile that had first attracted him to her back when they first met in theatre class, “Yes, Aaron. You’re a father now, if you remember.”

He smiles and nods, looking over at Jack who was watching them intently, “Yes, I remember.” 

“And Jack insisted we made your favourite breakfast to mark the occasion,” she says, nodding to the plated-up waffles, syrup and sliced fruit before extracting herself from Aaron’s embrace to walk over and pick Jack up, expertly wiping his messy face and hands in seconds, “He even made you a card.” 

“You did all that for me, buddy?” Aaron says, gratefully taking his son from his wife, kissing the baby’s head as he settles him on his hip. He looks at Haley as he carries on, wanting her to know he appreciates it, that  “Thank you.”

She winks at him, “You stay here, I’m going to go get your presents.” 

Aaron watches her go and then turns his attention to his son, bouncing him on his hip and chuckling as Jack presses his tiny hands into his face. He makes a point of kissing them, his heart growing in his chest as Jack giggles, Aaron’s new favourite sound in the world, but he’s drawn out of it as his cell phone rings in his pocket. He adjusts his hold on Jack and grabs his phone, sighing when he sees it’s JJ calling.

“JJ?” 

“Sorry to call on a Sunday, Hotch,” she says, sounding genuinely remorseful, “But we’ve got a bad one.” 

“How bad?” He asks, as if he has any choice but to leave, as if the tiny bubble he’d been living in since he woke up wasn’t already burst. 

“Florida bad.” 

He presses his lips together and shakes his head, internally cursing the serial killers of the world for at least not giving him one day off, and he kisses Jack’s head, “Tell the team to meet on the jet in an hour.” 

“Yes, sir,” she says, hesitating for a moment before she carries on, “I really am sorry. I know it’s your first Father’s Day.” 

 He hums, “Unless you’re the unsub JJ you don’t have anything to apologise for.” 

She chuckles, the sound drowned out as he hears Haley’s footsteps approaching him. He smiles sadly at her as she stops just short of him, a gift bag hooked over her arm and two cards clasped in her hand. She frowns at him, her eyebrows stitched together with barely covered irritation. 

“See you on the jet.”

When he hangs up, Haley sighs, her hands on her hips as she presses her lips together and shakes her head, “A case?” 

“I’m sorry,” he says, “Apparently it’s a bad one.” 

She chuckles humourlessly, “None of them are good ones, Aaron,” she says, blowing out a breath as she puts the gifts down on the kitchen counter, “It’s Father’s Day. Jack is supposed to spend today with you.” 

“I know,” he replies, guilt that was starting to feel all too familiar licking at his insides for the fact he hadn’t hesitated all that much about the fact they had to go. “We can still have breakfast and open the gifts.” 

She stares at him for a moment before forcing a smile on her face and nodding at him, “Yeah,” she replies, taking Jack from him, kissing their son’s temple as she settles him in their embrace, “That will have to do.” 

He watches as she settles Jack in his high chair again, “Next year I’ll put out a notice that all serial killers need to stop on Father’s Day weekend.” 

She laughs despite herself, shaking her head at him as he takes his seat at the breakfast bar, “Yeah,” she says, her smile genuine but slightly sad, an edge to it he hates that he can’t name, “Next year.” 

___

Aaron’s confused when he hears a knock on his front door at 8.30 am on a Sunday. He’d barely slept, the weight of the day ahead resting heavily on his chest as he tossed and turned all night, his eyes fixed on the clock as the time ticked passed midnight into Father’s Day.

The first Father’s Day since Haley had died. 

It felt strangely harder than Mother’s Day had. For that, he had a plan. He had spoken to Jack’s teacher, had prepared the little boy as much as he could. He’d helped him make a card and pick out flowers and they went to Haley’s grave and spoke to her. It had been difficult, one of the hardest days of his life, but it had been easier than this. Even after the divorce, Haley had made a point of making sure Jack got him a gift and a card. She always made sure he had him that day - that he spent the day with his son if he wasn’t at work and it meant everything to him. 

He knew Jess had bought a card, and that Jack would have made something at school, but it felt lonely. His reality as a single father, a reality he blamed solely on himself, all the more real on a day like today. 

He frowns when there’s another knock on the door and he walks towards it, his confusion only deepening when he spots Emily through the peephole, her arms laden with bags. He opens the door and furrows his brows, wondering if he’d somehow fallen asleep and was dreaming. 

“Emily?” 

“Finally,” she says, walking past him as if she lived here, grunting as she places the bags all down on his kitchen counter, “This shit is heavy.” 

He stares at her, still frozen in place by the door, his mouth hanging open as she shrugs off her jacket, revealing the casual clothes she was wearing underneath. Her being here wasn’t unusual, she was a frequent visitor these days. Ever since Jack and Haley had gone into hiding she’d spent a lot of time with him, reminding him he wasn’t alone, being the friend he hadn’t realised he’d needed until she was right there with him. She’d been even more present since Jack had come back, her ability to make his son comfortable in a world that was suddenly different to him something Aaron was sure he’d never be able to pay her back for. 

“What are you doing here?” 

She smiles, but she’s cut off from responding by Jack barrelling into her side, the little boy seemingly appearing out of nowhere as he wraps his arms around her.

“Em’ly!” 

She leans down and picks him up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she settles him on her hip, “Hi Jack,” she says, smiling at Aaron, feeling uncharacteristically shy under his gaze, “I think it’s time we let your Daddy in on our little secret, huh?” She asks, tickling him, drawing a laugh out of the little boy.

Jack nods enthusiastically and turns to Aaron, his arms stretched out for him, “Happy Father’s Day, Daddy!” 

Aaron beams, his smile wide as he accepts his son from Emily’s arms, ignoring the warmth that spreads through him from where his hand grazes hers, “Thanks, buddy,” he says, kissing his son’s cheek as he takes a step back, his smile turning curious as he looks at Emily, “I’m still not sure what’s going on.” 

She smiles at the sight of them together, her stomach flipping as she replies, “Jack asked me if I knew it was Father’s Day coming up just a couple of weeks ago, and he said you liked to have your favourite breakfast on Father’s Day,” her smile turns soft, a way to quietly let him know she knew it was something Haley had done for him, “But he’s too small to cook for you. So he asked me to help.”

“Em’ly said she’d come over,” Jack says, his smile wide, so similar to Haley’s it makes Aaron ache, and Aaron lets out a shaky laugh, shaking his head at the two of them. He can see the spark of insecurity in Emily’s eyes, something she tries and fails to hide from him, and he knows he has to extinguish it before it catches fire. 

“Well, this is a very nice surprise,” he says, smiling at her before he looks at his son, “Why don’t you go get changed out of your pyjamas and I’ll help Emily set up?”

He nods and kisses his father’s cheek before he scrambles down to the ground, running to his room and leaving the two adults alone. Aaron obverses her as she looks at the ground, purposefully avoiding eye contact, and he’s overwhelmed by the love he’d been harbouring for her for far too long. 

He hadn’t been able to name it until she started coming around after he’d been attacked. It had followed him everywhere, haunting him and tapping him on the shoulder every time she so much as smiled at him. As soon as he could name it, he felt a wave of shame, sure that he didn’t deserve to be with a woman like her after everything he’d done, even if he was fairly sure she loved him back. 

“You didn’t have to do this.” 

She looks up at him, her eyebrows furrowed as if he was being ridiculous. As if there had been no other option other than for her to come over when he knew she’d usually still be sleeping. 

“Yes I did,” she says, nodding towards the pile of things she’d abandoned on his counter, “Now, help me get this unpacked. I’m doing all the cooking though.” 

He smiles curiously as she unpacks the bags she’d brought with her, his focus fixed on the waffle iron she sets down on his kitchen counter, “You hate waffles.” 

She looks up at him, a surprised smile bursting across her face before she tries to suppress it, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she narrows her eyes at him, “How do you know that?” 

“You were complaining about them at the hotel breakfast buffet on a case recently,” he says, the memory making a smile flick across her face, her condemnation of the food something that had stuck with him. The way her eyebrows had pinched together in the same way they would when she was presented with a particularly gruesome case file, “You called them ‘pretentious pancakes.’”

She stares at him for a moment, a familiar feeling that she desperately tries to ignore whenever it occurs bubbling in her chest. Whenever she saw him like this, soft and so unlike the man she’d got to know at work, her stomach would flip. Forbidden feelings for a forbidden version of him that felt even more wrong given the situation he was in, the fact he was grieving a woman he’d known most of his life. 

Emily first realised she was in love with him when she found him in the hospital after Foyet had attacked him. Seeing him like that hurt, a guttural pain low in her gut that told her the feelings she’d written off as a school-girl crush ran far deeper than that. It was inappropriate at best, she knew that, especially at first when he was in pain and missing his son. She did her best to love him practically. To be there for him by driving him to work, by silently paying for the medical bills his insurance didn’t cover. 

It was something she’d carried on since Haley died, her affection shifting from just him to him and Jack. She spent weekends with them. Did simple things like grocery shop and going to the zoo with them, their smiles and laughter, the joy they found even in the darkest of times, all she ever wanted in return. It’s why when Jack pulled her aside a couple of weeks ago, a frown on his face that was all Aaron, and asked for her help with doing something for Father’s Day she hadn’t needed to think about it. 

She would do anything for either of them. 

She clears her throat as she looks at the food on the counter, her cheeks warm as he continues to stare at her, “I can’t believe you remembered that.” 

“I remember everything about you.” His words hang in the air around them, a confession he hadn’t even intended to make, and for a moment they both freeze. Everything they hadn’t said, and knew now wasn’t the time to say, written across their faces, both of them staring at each other as if they were afraid to say anything, to disturb the delicate holding pattern they’d found themselves in for months now. “So,” he says, smiling at her, “Did you buy this waffle iron especially for today?”

She hears what he hasn’t said, all the things they’d talk about when life was a little simpler again. When the muddy waters he was wading through were clearer. And she smiles, her dimples carved out deeply in her cheeks as they go warm with embarrassment only he could drag out of her. 

“Shut up.” 

___

Emily smiles to herself as she closes the hotel room door and slides the lock across, proud of herself for not waking up her boyfriend as she quietly wheels the room service she’d ordered closer to the bed. 

She climbs on top of him, straddling his abdomen as she leans down, pressing her chest against his as she starts to stamp a series of kisses to his jaw, the scratch of his stubble rubbing against her lips, and up to his cheek. 

“Wake up honey,” she whispers, her hand sneaking under the hem of his t-shirt, her fingers dancing across the scar at the top of his chest, “Wake up.” 

Aaron groans, his hands landing on her hips as if magnetized as he wakes up, pulling her impossibly closer as she continues to kiss him until he turns his head, capturing her lips against his. 

“Not that I don’t enjoy you waking me up by climbing on top of me half naked,” he drawls, his voice rough and raspy from a lack of sleep, “Why am I awake at…” he groans as he looks at the clock, “5 am,” he sniffs, finally pulling his face away from her, “And can I smell breakfast?” 

She smiles as she sits up, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as his hands find her bare thighs, the shirt of his she’d fallen asleep in gathered around her on top of him, “Happy Father’s Day, honey.” 

He’s still half asleep, so he frowns at her, “What?” 

She chuckles and leans into him, her hair falling down and covering them both as she presses her lips against his. He smoothes it back, pushing his fingers through the soft locks as he holds her in place, never tiring of having her this close. 

“It’s Father’s Day,” she mutters, barely pulling back enough to speak, her breath skipping across his face, “And I know you’re sad we’re working,” she kisses him again, “So I ordered room service so you can have breakfast,” she pulls back and smiles at him, her eyes sleepy and full of love, “And later on you’re going to FaceTime Jack. And I’ll fight anyone who tries to interrupt.” 

He stares up at her, blown away, not for the first time, by the way she loved him and his son. The way she looked after them, forever making sure she put them first. He’d been irritated when they’d been called away on a case late on Friday, his teeth grinding and his shoulders tight as the jet took off, leaving his son and any chance of spending a day that had become so important to him behind. Emily had been his saving grace. Her presence enough to make him feel better, her hand on his knee under the table on the jet a comfort, a soothing balm to any ailment, he wasn’t sure he could ever live without again. 

He rolls them, capturing the surprised yelp she lets out in a kiss as he lays half on top of her. She hooks one of her legs behind his back and digs her heel into the top of his ass, moaning into the kiss as she deepens it, her nails lightly scratching at his scalp. 

She found it hard to believe that this time last year she’d been alone in Paris, torn apart in every possible way, terrified Ian would jump out of any shadow she came across. It had felt hopeless at the time. Like she’d never get to come home, or feel like herself again. The months had stretched out, every lonely night a small infinity in which she would lay there and play all of her decisions over and over in her head, a punishment of sorts she’d given herself. A penance she felt she deserved for letting down the people she loved, for putting them in danger. 

She’d almost kissed Aaron the night before Sean McCallister called. They’d gone out for dinner, just the two of them, a night they were both too shy to call a date. She’d come close to pressing her lips against his, to inviting him inside, but she’d been interrupted by her neighbour, the moment gone as quickly as it had appeared. Aaron had kissed her cheek and smiled at her as he left, and she told herself she’d kiss him next time. Afterwards, when everything had been torn from her, she wished she’d kissed him. Wished that she knew what it was like to be with him, to feel his bare skin against hers, but now she knew how it felt, she knew it would have been worse. The reality so much more than she ever imagined laying on the cold floor of her unassuming apartment in Paris. 

She hums as she pulls back from the kiss, smiling as he chases her lips. She rests her forehead against his and presses her thumb into his lower lip, a sound she refused to call a giggle escaping when he kisses the pad of it. 

“Breakfast will go cold,” she whispers, her hand tracing up his cheek and mussing through his ruffled hair, “You can have your way with me afterwards.”

He hums, “Oh yeah?”

She nods, rubbing her nose against his, “Why do you think I woke you up so early?”

Aaron kisses her fiercely, his grip on her waist tight, before he pulls away, dragging her with him as he sits up, “What did you order?” 

She scoots towards the trolley she’d wheeled over and passes him the tray of food, settling next to him against the headboard before she pulls the metal tray cover off of it, smiling widely as she reveals a plate of waffles next to a plate of pancakes, “Tah-dah!”

He laughs at her flare and tilts his head as he turns to look at her, “There weren’t waffles on the menu. I checked when we had breakfast yesterday.” 

She shrugs and shifts closer, the tray lying over both of their laps, “It’s amazing what you can convince people to do when you offer to leave them a very large tip.” 

“You asked them to make them for me?” 

She nods, reaching out for a fork to pull apart her pancakes, “It’s your favourite, and they already had all the ingredients.” 

He smiles, his gaze fixed on her profile as she eats. His eyes drift from her sharp jawline to the slope of her nose. He’d always known she was beautiful, it was something that had been hard to deny even back when he didn’t trust her, but seeing her like this, up close and bare-skinned as they ate breakfast together, was something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to. 

“You’re staring.” 

He leans in and kisses her cheek, unashamed that he’d been caught out, “You’re beautiful.” 

She rolls her eyes at him and turns her head to kiss him, the taste of syrup passing from her lips to his. “Eat your pretentious pancakes,” she says, kissing him again, “Then we can have sex until your alarm goes off.” 

He laughs and nods, “Yes, sweetheart.”

___

Aaron yawns as he walks through the house, scratching the back of his head as he walks into the living room, finding his wife exactly where he knew he would. 

“Morning, sweetheart.”

She looks up at him from the baby in her arms, her smile shaking slightly as their eyes meet. They were shining up at him, a mix of exhaustion and frustration reflected in the tears he knew she hated. She has their newborn daughter clutched against her chest, her milk-stained t-shirt bunched up over her breast as she tries to feed her, an edge of desperation in the way she tries to get Rose to eat.

“Morning,” she replies as she looks back down at the baby, “I don’t think she’s getting anything.” 

He sits next to her, one hand on her back and the other on Rose’s and he smiles at his little girl, still as enraptured by her as he was the very first time he’d seen her. He kisses the side of Emily's head, “You remember what the doctor said, Em. She won’t eat much these first few days.” 

She hums, clearly not believing him as Rose unlatches, and she looks as defeated as she sounds when she lifts the newborn to rest her against her shoulder. Aaron adjusts her shirt and nursing bra for her and she smiles gratefully, a silent thank you passing between the two of them in the quiet of their living room. 

Rose was less than two days old, fresh home from the hospital only the night before, and already the centre of her parent's world along with her older brother. They’d started trying to get pregnant just before their wedding and it had taken a little longer than either of them had hoped. Aaron had watched as his wife folded in on herself with each negative test. A cruel origami of her worst fears as she started to believe that maybe, just maybe, she’d let herself get too happy. That she’d got carried away in the fantasy of him and being Jack’s mother, and she’d forgotten that she still had a past that she felt she hadn’t undone yet. No matter how many times he assured her that his love for her was unconditional, that he would be there if they had 10 children or no more other than Jack, she didn’t believe him. A constant tension thrumming under her skin right up until the moment she was staring at a positive test. 

Her pregnancy hadn’t been easy, far from it, but he knew the moment she was handed their little girl that Emily considered every part of it worth it. 

“Sorry if I woke you up,” she says, kissing the side of their daughter’s head, “She wouldn’t go back to sleep so I brought her down here.”

“You could have woken me up,” he says, pulling her close so she’s leaning against him, both of his girls in his arms as he leans back on the couch.

“I wanted you to have a lie in,” she mutters, rubbing soothing circles on Rose’s back, “It’s Father’s Day.” 

In any other circumstance, he’s sure he’d laugh, he’s sure he’d point out that every other Father’s Day they’d been together she’d woken him up early for one reason or another. Whether it was to make sure he got to continue the tradition of a waffle breakfast that Haley had started even if they were on the other side of the country, knee-deep in casework, or because she’d found a spider the size of her fist in the pantry and woken him up with a scream. It was close to absurd that this year, she didn’t deem their tiny scrawny newborn, who was still getting over the shock of no longer being tucked up warm inside her mother, a reason to wake him. 

It was her all over though. The love of his life. She was a mess of contradictions tied together with empathy and beauty and he wouldn’t want her any other way. 

“You can always wake me up,” he assures her, kissing her forehead, “Now why don’t you and Rosie sit here,” he says, smiling when he spots the baby had fallen asleep, “And I’ll go make breakfast.” 

Emily’s face crumbles, the shininess that had been set in them for days, making them look even deeper than normal, giving way to tears. They splash down onto her cheeks as she shakes her head, burning hot tracks into her already slightly sticky skin.

“No, I should do it,” she says, wincing as she tries to move forward, held in place by his arm around her, “You shouldn’t have to make your own breakfast today. 

Her earnestness makes his heart swell, overwhelming love for her spilling out of him and onto the floor around them. He cups her jaw and pulls her close, kissing her tears away until he presses his lips against hers.

“Em, sweetheart, I say this with all the love in my heart,” he says as he pulls back to look at her, thumbing away new tears that fall past her lashline, “But you had a baby 36 hours ago and you can barely walk let alone stand at the kitchen counter and cook. You just need to concentrate on her okay?” he says, nodding down to the baby girl in her arms, “And anyway, she’s the best early Father’s Day present ever,” he adds, the vice around his heart loosening as Emily smiles at him, “You’ve already outdone yourself.” 

She swallows thickly, her lips pressed together as she tries to figure out if he's lying, her profiling skills left somewhere between her 40-hour labour and the rollercoaster of emotions she’d been through since, “Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely,” he says, kissing the tip of her nose and smiling when she scrunches it up, “Now you two sit here and look pretty, I’ll go make us some food.” 

“Okay,” she says, finally relaxing back into the couch as she relents, well aware that he was right anyway, that she couldn’t stand up straight if she were offered millions of dollars to do so, “We can do that.” 

He kisses her forehead and walks away, humming to himself as he decides this is going to be his best Father’s Day yet.

___

He’s woken up by tiny hands pressing against his face, and his daughter's faux-whisper, somehow louder than her usual talking voice as she pokes his cheek.

“Are you awake Daddy?” 

He smiles as he grabs her, her giggle one of his favourite sounds in the world, right up there with his sons and his wife, and he presses a series of kisses to her cheeks, “I am now Rosie-Posie.” 

The four-year-old carries on laughing, eventually wriggling out of his grip and settling on Emily’s empty side of the bed, “Mommy sent me up.”

He wraps his arm around her and pulls her closer, resting his cheek on top of her head as she settles against his side, “Did she?”

He feigns innocence, pretending he doesn’t know what day it is, as if his wife hadn’t threatened him to stay upstairs until she came up and told him she was ready. 

Rose hums and fiddles with the wristband of his watch, her tiny fingers always ready to grasp something, “Breakfast is almost ready.” 

“What’s for breakfast?” He asks, playing dumb again, his smile soft as she rolls her eyes at him, looking impossibly more like Emily than she usually does. 

“Waffles, Daddy,” she says, “Just like always.” 

“Well that’s good,” he replies, pushing some of her unruly hair from her face, “Waffles are my favourite.” 

“Mine too!” She replies, her smile wide as her apparent irritation with him was forgotten as soon as it had appeared.

“And mine,” Jack says having appeared in the doorway, bounding into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed, “Happy Father’s Day, Dad.” 

He thinks of that first Father’s Day, in the quiet hours before Emily had shown up with the waffle iron she was currently using, when it was just him and Jack. He’d been so young then, not much older than Rose was now, and at the time it was impossible to imagine a different reality than the one he’d found himself in. Sometimes, when he woke from a nightmare, his monster human and oh so real, there would always be a moment when he thought he was alone again, that everything he’d had in the last few years had been nothing more than a dream.

Then Emily would be there. Her forehead against his and her hand curled around the back of his neck as she brought him back to her, soft reassurances and stories about their children until his breathing evened out and he could no longer feel the press of Foyet’s knife. He did the same for her, their relationship a give and take that had grown with them, each of them always exactly what the other needed. 

“Thanks, Jack.” 

Emily walks into the room, their two-year-old on her hip and matching smiles on their faces, flour spattered in both of their hair, “Breakfast is ready.” 

“Waffles!” Rose cheers, and Lucas joins in from Emily’s arms, his tiny hands clapping together at the thought of his favourite breakfast. Rose runs out of the room, overwhelmed by her excitement and Jack is hot on her tail, ever the protective big brother. 

Emily sighs performatively as Aaron climbs out of bed, shaking her head at her two eldest children as they run out of the room, “I can’t believe I live in a house full of waffle lovers.” 

“Well two of them look exactly like you, baby,” Aaron says as he makes it to her side, his hand on her back and his lips catching the corner of hers, the flavour of the raw batter she’d clearly tasted passing from her lips to his, “They had to get something from me.” 

She hums and cups his cheek, adjusting her hold on Lucas, the little boy’s hands firmly wrapped around the strap of her tank top, “Happy Father’s Day, honey.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to kiss her, his lips barely touching hers this time before Lucas bats his hands at his father, a frown on his face Emily always said was all him.

“No kissy,” he says, resting his head on his mother’s chest, “My mama.” 

Emily and Aaron both suppress a laugh as they look at each other, Lucas’s possessiveness of Emily something that had been strong ever since he was a tiny little thing. It had only got worse with the recent news their family would unexpectedly get bigger, another baby tiny and safe under Emily’s still flat skin that they hadn’t anticipated. She’d told him a month ago, her eyes bright and shining with anxiety, somehow worried he wouldn’t want this. As if he would ever get tired of having more of her in the world. He’d simply kissed her until she wasn’t worried anymore, something he’d learned long ago was the easiest way to calm her down.

“Sorry, Lukey,” Aaron says sincerely, knowing now wasn’t the time to try and resolve the possessiveness, “It won’t happen again.” 

He looks back at his wife and she winks at him, mouthing three words at him over their son’s head in the silence of the room. 

I love you.

A familiar warmth spreads through him. Brought on by the softness of her skin, the sound of his eldest children giggling downstairs, and the faint smell of waffles in the air. Every time he’d ever doubted himself, every awful thing he’d ever survived, seemed insignificant in moments like these. All it would take would be one smile from his wife, one peek of the dimples she’d passed onto their children, although she would claim he’d passed on his, and it would disappear. Leaving him only with this. A life he would have once thought impossible.

A life where he had room for things as beautifully simple as a tradition like breakfast on Father’s Day.

He mouths the words back at her, a reflex that was no less special even though he’d done it countless times, her smile in return no less beautiful than the first time. 

I love you too. 

-x-

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[the-real-treasure]

Treasure Treasure!

An OPLA Sanji x Reader

Master List Here

Previous Chapter: Big Big Top Troubles and the Risks of Show Business

Chapter Five: Sweet Syrupy Lies

Summary : A sinking ship leads the crew to an island where liars mean well and pale girls are fed strange stories, and stranger soup.

Trigger Warnings: Threats and descriptions of violence, scars, swearing, threatening language and behaviour, Reader's Devil Fruit power is overwhelming and overstimulating, graphic descriptions of sensory overload and overstimulation, selfharm caused by scratching, blood, body mutilation? Sort of? Word Count: 8, 100 **Edited: 16/09/24**

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Your arms were itchy.

Under the long sleeves of your aqua jacket and the clean cream top you had changed into under it, stretching up your arms past the end point of the wrapped bandages on your hands, they were itching again.

The deep, carved imprint of chain links, the grooves creating deep ravines around your arms from wrists to your elbows, scarring around your upper arm and across the expanse of back between your shoulders.

If you were lucky, it was just the scarring on your fingers and hands that itched, the old hard skin hidden away under wraps of fabric dry and cracking with the heat and salt of sea travel, but today you weren’t lucky.

Nami was perched at the prow of the boat, map unfurled across her knee and glasses on her face. With her and Luffy out here and Zoro inside, there was no where private, no where secluded enough for you to tear off the fabric driving you to sensory mania and bathe yourself in cool water and ointments to relieve the feeling for a while, like Sanji and Zeff would encourage.

So instead you stood, sweat on your forehead and dripping down your back and you scratched.

You were drawing blood.

But you scratched.

"Hey Nami! Nami, Y/n! Look!" Luffy called from beside you, pulling you out of the fevered itching of your skin.

"What?" Standing from his crouched position beside you, he pulls up a huge swathe of black fabric he had been decorating, supposedly under your supervision as "an expert tailor" since you know how to use a needle and thread. Explaining your passion for embroidery to him had been a mistake as you looked at his work, the incredibly lopsided skull wearing an oddly shaped hat at a jaunty angle left much to be desired.

"It's ready!" He cheered from behind the mangled fabric.

"And what is it?" You took in a deep breath and squeezed your eyes closed. The skin on your arms was screaming.

"Please tell me it's not-"

"Our Jolly Roger." You groaned and dropped your face into your hands. "Every pirate crew has to have one. And now we do!"

"If that's what you were doing," you yanked the length of fabric from his hands and inspect the stitching around the edge of the skull, tutting as you pull loose the weakly sewn threads, "you could have just let me handle it. This is..." you look up, eyes meeting his hopeful grin, "it could use some work, you should've asked me."

"Nah. You seemed like you needed a minute for yourself there." He gave your arm a gently poke, where blood had seeped through the fabric just below your shoulder. He keeps surprising you, this captain of yours.

"We're not a crew, and you are not hanging that on my boat."

"You know where you could have hung it."

Nami's eyes roll. "I swear if you say 'my boat, the Guppy,'" her voice turns nasily as she mocks the beginning of your sentence.

"You see the Guppy,"

"Y/n I swear, your boat was not that much better!" she sighs, "And it wouldn't have been much of a pirate ship either, so there would be no point in hanging any Jolly Rogers."

"More of a pirate vessel than this one."

"Zoro!" Luffy called as the swordsman finally left the small cabin, "Zoro, check it out." Zoro stares at the flag for a moment before he smacks his lips together.

"That's unique. Nami, I think the toilet's busted." Nami stared at him reproachfully.

"We don't have a toilet."

"Oh." Zoro turned away from her again. "Well, then something back there's leaking."

"WHAT?!" She jumped up and rushed into the cabin, returning moments later and storming towards Zoro in anger. "We're taking in water. What did you do?"

Hearing the state of the ship, you grab Luffy by the arm and scramble up on to the cabin's roof with him.

"I didn't do anything, what are you two doing now?"

"The way you're clanging those swords around, you must have broken something."

"Maybe if you're such a good thief, maybe you should've stolen a better boat."

"I don't care who did or didn't do whatever, our crew is half made up of Devil Fruit users who, need I remind you both, don't do well in sea water?"

"Guys, guys guys. Ok, crew meeting." Luffy let his torso hang down towards the pair arguing as you clung on to the back of his shirt, eyes sweeping the deck for any sign of sea water that wasn't already there.

"Not a crew." the two chimed together, turning to him anyway.

"We're gonna need a better ship to make it to the Grand Line. A real pirate ship. Not this holey ship, not the Guppy," his head swivelled 180 degrees to look at you as you opened your mouth to let out an indignant "She could make it!", "A ship, worthy of the Straw Hat Crew."

"Wait." Nami interrupted his impassioned speech. "Straw Hat Crew? Really?"

"Yeah! I thought it had a nice ring to it."

"'Demon' had a nice ring to it, headgear? Not scary." Luffy shrugged at the green haired swordsman.

"Who says pirates have to be scary?" The pair look around in confusion as Luffy let's you pull him upright and hops easily down to the main deck, leaving you perched above the trio. "The point is, we need a new ship. So, where do we get one?" Nami sighs and pulls open her map journal, searching around for a moment before answering.

"Our closest bet is the Gecko Islands. We can probably make it there before our ship sinks. Ditch this one and get a better one."

"Good. With a working toilet." Luffy tapped his finger towards Nami happily.

"Great job, navigator." Nami frowned as he lifted the flag from the deck.

"You're still not hanging that on my ship." Luffy smiles at her before clambering back on to the cabin roof beside you. He plonks down on the wood as you stare out to the horizon behind you, pulling the flag into his lap to inspect the threads you had tugged loose in your inspection.

"Hey Y/n.." He mumbled thoughtfully as he looked over his lopsided design.

"Yea?"

"Do you think," he sighs quietly, joining your observation of the wake of your boat in the sea, "that everyone has a dream? Or a wish or whatever you call it?" You hummed.

"Yeah, I would think so, though it might be different then what they think, or they might not even know."

"What about everything?" You turned your head to face him. He shrugged at you. "Like, I don't know..."

"A boat?" You finished his question for him, a smile slowly spreading across both your faces, the itching on your skin long forgotten. "What did you have in mind?"

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"You got to be kidding me." You stood looking over the bulletin board in the small square of Syrup Village, staring at the wanted posted of Buggy, where underneath his name it read 15 million. "That clown was worth 15 million Berry." Zoro was quietly fuming. "We should've stuffed his head in a bag and brought it with us."

"What Marine would pay you that bounty anyway?" Luffy was laying with his back on the ground, legs stretched up the wall, looking up at you and Zoro. He giggled. "You're kind of a wanted man yourself now." Zoro grunted in unhappy agreement.

"Didn't think of that." And, not for the first time, you wondered if word of your actions had reached Baratie yet. If Sanji and Zeff were arguing about what happened to you, if Patty had successfully rescued your beloved baby blue Guppy from the docks at Shells Town. If that fucking merchant had done his job and got that order shipped out yet.

Luffy rolled himself upright and stood. "All the more reason to get to the Grand Line. Fresh start!"

Your chains itched. You resist the urge to drag your nails down your arms or try and scrub your skin off.

"Right." Luffy turned to the returning Nami happily.

"Hey! You got us a ship?"

"Working on it. Did you push the sloop out to sea like I told you?"

"Yeah! No Marines are gonna be following us here." Nami and Zoro eyed each other.

"Well, we're not gonna be here very long. Turns out Syrup Village is known for their ship building. Lots of options!" Luffy grinned.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" Luffy happily took of in, what you assume, is the wrong direction, Nami quickly following behind. Your pace is more leisurely as Zoro rips the wanted poster off the wall and scrunched it into a ball.

"Stupid clown.

Your quartet traipse through the shipyard, casting critical eyes over the hollowed out hulls and local craftsmen doing their work. At Luffy's request, you keep your sixth sense peeled, hoping some glimmer of want would ripple across the yard and pull you in the right direction.

"Look at 'em all!" He glances back at you, and you shake your head. Just the normal everyday deepest wishes of desperation and desire, like normal. No heart wrenching yearning for the sea, not yet.

"How much do these even cost?" Zoro asks from beside you.

"If you have to ask, you can't afford it."

"Okay, so we need to get one with a very, very impressive figurehead. At least two," he counts on his fingers quickly, "no, no three masts! And a really high crow's nest. Y/n is keeping an ear out for what we need, so we follow their que and we'll work from there!"

Nami shakes her head at your and Luffy's new shared delusion. "We are not gonna be able to sail a ship anywhere near that size. There's only four of us." Luffy's smile doesn't fade.

"Four of us, right now!"

"Well, unless you can find another weird, desperate soul to help us." Something echoes through you gently, the whisper reminiscent of your time aboard the Orbit.

"Speak for yourself." Zoro grunts. You push past him and Nami, falling into step with your captain a moment before your pace pulls you past him too. Nami's hand grabs at the fabric of your sleeve as you start to pull ahead.

"Listen, we are going to need something a little less flashy if we wanna sneak out of here." Her words pull both you and Luffy to a stop.

"You want to steal a ship?" She scoffs at the pair of you.

"How else did you expect us to get one?"

"I don't know. But we can't steal one."

"What kind of pirate are you?"

"One who knows the value of 1) a ship and 2) what he wants!" Luffy nods along with your words.

"A ship is not just a ship-"

"It's our home!"

"-it's a part of our crew! We need to find the perfect one. And we're gonna get it the right way."

"Okay, pitch that to the salesman. I'm sure that'll win him over." Luffy smiles at her understanding.

"Exactly!" And he takes off again, heading closer to the main docks. She turns from watching him go to meet your eyes, aqua and gold staring almost through her.

"No one and nothing does well in a role they're forced into," you whisper. "That's not something I'll let happen, not on this crew." And you turn, following behind your captain as he bobs between boats.

(Please please please)

You continues through the maze of boats and ships, darting past builders and workmen, as the yearning for adventure, for returning to the sea ripples through you.

(Just once more, one more adventure)

Turning a final corner, your eyes rest on the joyful figure head of a beaming sheep, horns curving out and towards you. Slowing to a stop, Luffy follows and lets out a small happy sigh as his eyes meet the boat as well.

(Golden sunsets spread as far as the eye can see. Glorious crisp white peaks on cobalt waves cresting the horizon. Murky green rich with seaweed and stories)

Your chest burns with the want of the sea, it echoes through you, ripples bouncing off of you and back to the boat, going in and out and in over and over.  The more you listen, the more you realise it's not jus the boat the ripples are bouncing off. You let Luffy climb the ladder ahead of you, a quiet reverence having taken over him as he approaches the ship. The wishes thrum through the air around you, the tips of your ears tingling with the energy. The overwhelming itch on your skin fades to a dull throbbing as you both stand below the figurehead. Luffy, with extreme care, raises his hand to the chin of sheep and rests his fingers on it.

"Real beauty huh?" Luffy stares in wonder as you dart your head over the edge of the platform, looking towards the main body of the boat.

"You can talk?" A young man in a red bandana and green vest pops his head over the edge of the boat.

"No! Over here." Luffy joins you for a moment, also spotting the young man. "Yo." Luffy pushes past you to lean further past the platform.

"This ship is amazing." The man's eyes drift up the figure head as he agrees. "What can you tell me about her?"

"Caravel class, top-of-the-line. Ninety-six feet of pure luxury. Whipstaff rudder, full galley." Both your ears prick up for a moment, eyes glancing to each others with a grin. "Cannon decks fore and aft." He gives a small chef's kiss at the perfection of the craft. Luffy asks the obvious question,

"Is she fast?"

"The fastest," he replies with a grin, "Not a ship in the East Blue can keep up with this baby." Luffy smiled with glee and tapped the side of the boat.

"She's perfect."

"You can say that again." You stare at him curiously.

This boy seemed to belong more with the majority of people, with less focus or surety on his true dream, though the tingling in your ears and the fuzziness in your head of your power sends swirling echoes of the crafts' dream of crystal blue water surrounding you, but also that of a pretty, pale girl with big eyes and a big smile fluttering past your mind's eye.

"There you two are." Nami's voice calls from below you as she and Zoro arrive from the smoky air.

"Guys!" Luffy's voice is loud as it rings out beside you, crashing you back to reality, eyes flickering back into focus as the boy in the boat smiles at you warily. You had been staring, finger raised but not sure which way to point. Oops. "We found it! We found our ship. And this guy will sell it to us." The boy stutters as you and Luffy clamber back down the ladders to your crewmates current and temporary travelling companions.

"Uh, wait. Wh-what? Uh..."

"Yeah!" Luffy replies happily, "The ship, we'll take it."

"Technically, she's not for sale." You both look at him.

"Huh?"

"And technically, I'm not a salesman."

"Impressive salesmanship skills for someone who isn't a salesman and has nothing to sell." You have to give him that. He grins in reponse.

"Thanks."

"Do you even work here?" Nami asks, ignoring you.

"Of course I do. I'm Chief Technician in charge of encrustation removal and aviary waste eradication." The speed of his speech stalls your brain out for a moment, and though the title sounds impressive, something doesn't add up.

"Encru-wha?" Luffy is in the same boat.

"He scrubs barnacles and cleans bird shit." Zoro answers plainly.

"He can't help us."

"Wait-wait-wait-wait! I can help you. The owner of this ship just happens to be my closest friend in the world." Smugness layers his speech.

"Your friend owns this ship."

"Not just this one, she owns the whole shipyard. She's," turning to look at you and Luffy from the side of his eye. "rich rich." You and your captain look at each other excitedly. "I'm sure you could strike a deal with her."

Luffy slaps his legs excitedly and you and the young man mimic him immediately. "See?" Nami looks between the two of you.

"Well I guess it couldn't hurt to say hello."

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There are eyes on you. You can feel them.

"I've never seen a house this big before." You and Luffy stand side by side staring up at the mansion past the well, paved courtyard and topiary bushes. Your eyes travel across the garden, you skin itching again as you look for whoever is spying on you and your crew captain.

"Impressive right?" The boy pushes past you both and walks, backwards, towards the house. "Kaya's given me an open invitation to drop by anytime I want." There's movement in the bushes to your left, but you don't turn your head to observe it, yet. "We just have to keep an eye out for, uh, Roku. He doesn't like people wandering near his plants, ya see."

"Wow. All this for just one person?"

"And staff, I suspect. Gardeners, foreman, cooks. If she's a lady, she must have workers of some kind." You ask him.

"Yeah, she lives here with her butler and a few other staff." You hum, eyes sweeping the bushes again.

"Interesting choice, a butler for a young lady. Normally its a maid, or lady in waiting if there position is high enough." He squints at you.

"How'd you know all that?" You shrug.

"I work in a restaurant, clientele varies, so we've had some posher folk come through." He nods. Nami mutters behind you as he and Luffy flop forward over the well and look down at the depth of it.

"Money really shows you who people truly are. Most people only care about themselves and what's theirs."

"Sounds like someone I know." Zoro snides back.

"And a small staff makes for easy pickings." You glance back at them as you follow Luffy and your guide further into the garden.

"Why? Gonna rob the place blind?"

"At least a little blurry." Moving to turn back to your captain, your eyes land on a figure amongst the tall flowers, creeping steadily towards your group, short but dark silver hair peeking out from under a bucket shaped hat.

"So if you have an invitation, why are we going around the back way?" As you all climb the steps and start past the lovely lily ponds, your eyes don't wander from your stalker, the man's figure coming in and out of focus as he sticks to the shadows of the trees at the edge of the property.

"Oh, I never use the front entrance. This is a more of a VIP entrance reserved for special guests." As you hop across the giant lily pads to the other side, Zoro mutters behind you,

"This guys full of shit."

"Yeah, but as long as he get us inside the house, who cares?" Your eyes dart over to the shadows of the trees. The man's gone.

As you all are forced to a stop behind him, the boy peels around and tries to usher you all back in the other direction.

"Oops, you know, there's actually a more exclusive entrance back this way." As he speaks, a knife goes whizzing between his feet, landing in the bed of the lily pad and the (unusually sharp) prongs of a garden rake catch the strap of his bag, pulling him to a stop as it tightens around his chest.

"Going somewhere Usopp?" The voice sounds like its been gargling gravel, the stupid hat tilted low over the man's face to protect his eyes from the sun. His head lifts, and you can see the scrabbly lengths of his fringe curling around and covering both of his eyebrows, his green irises reflecting the sunlight away from slanted gold pupils.

As he straightens, pulling Usopp easily off the overcrowded lily pad and on to the grass, towering over you all easily in scruffy gardeners clothes and stinking of grass clippings. The other man, the one who threw the knife, comes stalking up behind the large man, sneering around him at the boy.

"The hell are you doing here, Usopp?" Usopp stutters nervously

"Buchi, Roku, buddies, uh, Kaya's expecting me." The maid further back lifts their mop as Roku drops his grip on the back of Usopp's bag, stepping aside as Buchi easily grabs a hold of him instead.

"Another one of your lies." He yanks Usopp forward, nearly knocking him to his knees as he struggles against the older man's grip. "You ain't welcome here and you know it."

"I know nothing of the sort," He replies with false bravado, "I'm here to give Kaya an extra-special gift." As Buchi's lips curl away from his teeth, a girls voice calls from further in the garden.

"Usopp!" You all turn to look at the girl as she approaches, arm curled into that of the tall dark butler beside her. Her skin and hair were pale, though her skin more sickly so then natural, and her pink dress, edged with frills, was lifted clear of her feet as she carefully stepped down the stone stairs towards them. "What a wonderful surprise!"

Usopp smiles smugly at Buchi for a moment before pushing off his grip, skirting past the foreboding figure of Roku as he moves towards the girl.

"Kaya! Happy birthday." She smiles sweetly at him.

"You remembered."

"Of course I did." The butler clears his throat and pushes the glasses on his face up with the palm of his hand before looking down at the boy in front of him.

"Usopp. We've had this discussion. You mustn't show up unannounced." Kaya squeezes his arm gently, pulling his attention to her.

"Nonsense, Klahadore. Have you come to tell me another story? I do love hearing about your adventures." Usopp smiled at her gently.

"I'll do you one better. I brought some of my crew." As Usopp turns, you turn with him, searching for any sign of this supposed crew as Luffy joins you in confusion.

"Is he talking about us?" You all glance at each other awkwardly as Kaya speaks.

"It's so nice to meet you. You all must stay for dinner." A smile grows on Luffy's face at the mention of food before the butler interrupts.

"Miss Kaya. It is a bit last minute. I'm afraid the kitchen hasn't prepared for any extra guests."

"Please, Klahadore. It's my birthday. Can't be too much trouble, can it?" She asked, looking up at him hopefully. Aside from Klahadore, the rest of Kaya's staff all restrain eye rolls and try to hide pulled faces.

"Of course, Miss Kaya. Anything for you." He hadn't even finished speaking before Kaya had turned to Usopp smiling happily at the prospect of them joining her for dinner.

"All right!" Luffy clapped his hands in excitement. "When do we eat?"

"You don't. Not dressed like that." Klahadore looks them up and down judgementally, nose turned up at them. "Sham, kindly show Usopp and his friends to the guest suites. You will bathe and change before dinner."

Nami smiles over at you and you join her. "A bath does sound nice."

"You're telling me!"

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Luffy stares dumbly at the ceiling of the dressing room/closet as you and Nami pick through the cloths hanging wall to wall in the large space.

"Why would anyone even need this many clothes?"

"It's not about need with these people," Nami calls back to him, "It's about want."

"What are we even supposed to wear?"

"Anything you want! When are you ever going to get the opportunity to wear things this nice?"

If you were being honest, you were struggling to find something yourself. The nicest thing you had ever owned was the knee length aqua coat, with the gold filigree embroidery edging the bottom and cuffs of the sleeves. Now you stood surrounded by lavish cloths and you were at a loss. Wrapped in a towel so big it dragged along the floor and covered you chest to toes, you had left your hair to dry in the crisp cool air of the evening. The curling expanse fell down past your shoulders, almost to your hips. The itching skin of your tattooed shoulders grated at your nervous, but the cool water and salts had soothed some of it away, though the need to scratch still lingered.

You pause your flicking through the dresses, shirts and suits as Nami emerges from behind the dressing screen. She wore a black dress with navy metallic squares and rectangles crossing the body and skirt.

"Well?" she asks, "What do you think?" Luffy looked at her confused.

"You look like Nami." With a blank face, she turns to look at you. In that moment a memory from your childhood sparks, of a girl only a few years your senior, turning away from her brothers to you with the same blank but unimpressed stare, her big eyes full of disappointment but hiding behind pink hair.

"You look gorgeous," a small smile rolls across her lips as she swishes the skirt around her legs, "but I don't know if the colour suits you. Too dark, I think."

"Yeah.." she looks down at the dress thoughtfully and turns back to go behind the dressing screen again calling out a "thanks!" as she disappeared.

You turn back to the rows and rows of cloths, flicking through more and more until one set catches your eye, just as Zoro finally enters.

"Hey Zoro!" Luffy cheered, finally given a distraction from you and Nami fussy about your outfits. "Whatcha gonna wear?"

"Something black." You don't look up as he passes by you, eyes captivated with what you had found as you pull it free of its brethren.

The suit was a darker shade then what you would normally wear, closer to a teal green than your usual aqua or seafoam shades. The waistcoat would fit well over your chest, and the high waist, wide legged trousers were in keeping with your preferred leg wear. And while it was missing a shirt, you could go without, even if the suit jacket was lighter in weight and material compared to your own coat. Shorter too. It would look good draped across your shoulders, leaving your arms free of restriction like the broad sleeved shirts and coats you liked to wear.

You moved further into the room yourself, bypassing Zoro and Luffy to reach another secluded dressing screen as Nami commented "How edgy."

"Hey, does that butler seem familiar to you guys?" You call out a "no" as you throw your towel over the partition, pulling the trousers up your legs, fabric trailing through the air as you kicked up experimentally. No pulling or tightness. Good.

"Yeah, I think he was at the last dinner party I attended." Nami sassed as you buttoned the waistcoat up your chest, the smooth material cool and soothing across your easily irritated skin. You may have to steal this. (Sorry Kaya.)

"I swear I've seen him somewhere." Listening to the clicking of his swords and scabbards, you drape the suit jacket across you shoulders and shuffle your hands into the trouser pockets. Stepping out from behind the dressing screen, you eye Nami as she reappears as well, this time in a slim fitting black dress with a sparkly sequined cardigan over the top.

"How's this?" You smile as the sparkles catch your eye.

"You look amazing Nami." She smiles bashfully as the boys make their thoughts known.

"Still Nami."

"I said I'm wearing black." You give them both deadpan stares as you stride across the room, trouser legs billowing behind you, in search of some shoes to go along with your chosen outfit.

"I hate you guys. At least someone appreciates good fashion. You look fantastic in that suit by the way." You beam up at her from where you're crouched on the floor, hoking for shoes.

"Thank you!" you reply warmly and she replies with an equally warm,

"You're welcome." Before glaring at the boys once more and going back to looking at clothes.

"I feel kinda bad for Kaya. All this stuff. All this space. It's gotta make a person feel... lonely." Your eyes catch on a pair of pointed black boots hidden behind some red silk.

"Rich people don't have the same emotions we do. This stuff doesn't make her feel lonely. It makes her feel important." Pulling out the boots, you tug the red silk dress out as well, knocking Nami's leg with your elbow and gesturing the dress towards her. She 'ooh's quietly and pulls it out fully to inspect.

"Well, Usopp likes her. And she invited us to dinner. I'm sure we can work out a way to get that ship."

"No way." Nami responds eyes trailing across the patterns on the dress you had pulled for her as you struggled the boots on to your feet as your jacket falls to the floor, "Rich people don't stay rich by giving things away." Luffy smiled at her mischievously.

"You wanna bet?" Nami stares at him, before dropping her arms to her sides.

"What are the terms?"

"I bet I can convince Kaya to give us that ship."

"And when you can't?"

"We go with your plan." You look up at him, startled by the decision. "Steal one and move on."

"Uhh, no, let's? Let's not do that?" you stutter up at them, one boot still laying on the ground. They ignore you as they shake on the deal.

"You're on." You stare at Luffy as he walks away, barely registering the fabric whipping past your head as Nami throws a black silk shirt at Zoro.

"Nice."

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You stood with Luffy and Usopp, picking at the tray of hors d'œuvres Sham carried past you. You bit into one of the miniature quiches , exploring the texture like Zeff taught you, while the boys scarfed theirs down. Your hair was partially pulled up and away from your face, curtesy of Nami corralling you before you could stick it into you usual bandana and ponytail combo and the bandages normally wound around your hands are replaced by a pair of leather gloves.

"Eggs a bit gritty for some reason." You feel eyes piercing your head, and turn slightly to spot the chef, Buchi, glaring daggers at you. You lean closer to the boys. "Might be cooked at too high a temperature."

"Mm! But they're so good."

"I know right? Reminds me of that one time I slayed a dragon, cooked it over an open flame, ate the whole thing myself. You ever had dragon?"

"Nope." He spun to look at Sham. "Do you have dragon?" She looks at him bewildered for a second.

"Afraid we're fresh out."

"Oh well. Hey Zoro!" Luffy called to the swordsman as he picked up a champagne glass. "You gotta try this!"

"I've got all I need right here."

"May I present..." Klahadore's voice echoes from the top of the stairs. "Miss Kaya." He carefully walked her down the stairs to join the rest of them, as the accountant, Merry, climbed up to meet them. You scooted out and away from the boys to stand beside Nami as the pair reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Nami, I love that dress on you!"

"Thanks."

She replied, a smile crawling up her faces at the compliment. Kaya reaches out and touches the fabric of the dress gently.

"It belonged to my mother. It was one of her favourites."

"Oh-" Nami stuttered, "I'm sorry, I-I,"

"Not at all. I'm sure she would agree it suits you splendidly." Nami's eyes darted to you for assistance in this awkward conversation and you come to her aid as well as you can.

"You look lovely tonight yourself, Miss Kaya." The girl beams at you, skin pale and washed out from sickness but still radiating joy. "You look," you hesitate for a second but finish quietly, "Happy. You look incredibly happy."

"Oh I am. I'm so glad Usopp brought you all here, it's so so good to have people around. And you look wonderful as well, the colour suits you." And you laugh, gesturing your half uneaten quiche down yourself in amusement.

"Ha! Suit, because of the colour, but also because," Nami's eyes widen at you and Kaya's smile grows mischievous, "It's what, uh, what I'm wearing, because it's a suit, it was, yes. Hm, clever." You grit your teeth in an awkward smile and stuff the rest of your hors d'œuvre into your mouth to escape taking anymore nonsense. Kaya snorts and giggles at you as Nami's eyes nearly roll into the back of her skull, and you're saved speaking anymore by Merry approaching Kaya quietly.

"Kaya, I wondered if I may have your ear. There are matters concerning the transfer of ownership of the shipyard we need to discuss."

"Merry," Klahadore cuts in, "Dear friend, it's always business with you." The sheep man sighs, "Tonight is about celebration. Shall we all move to the dining room?"

"YES!" Luffy cheers excitedly at the promise of dinner, "Oh! Oh, I'm so ready for this!" As you all move to your seats, you eye the man Roku, confused why the gardener was working at this time of night, and inside as well. His own reflective green iris meet your glowing swirling clouds of aqua and gold, both shifting and catching the candle light around you in the colours. You say nothing, but you hold eye contact as you sit, him standing with back to the wall now.

Sham moves through the dining room as the rest of you eat, carrying a tray of smoked fish. Kaya calls out to her as she passes,

"I'd love to try the fish tonight."

"I'm sorry, Miss Kaya, but that is not possible."

"Maybe just a small piece." Your eyes move up the table to them from your seat between Luffy and Nami.

"Now, you know that certain foods can affect your constitution."

"Are you allergic to any seafood, miss Kaya?" You call up the table. Your own plate sat mostly untouched in front of you, the under seasoned fish and too hard potatoes causing an echo of Zeff roar through your mind.

"No, she is not-"

"Then fish should surely help her here, there are plenty of good fats and beneficial oils and omegas in fish, and with how unseasoned it is, the flavour is hardly going to upset her stomach." You're almost sure you hear a hiss from the cook situated behind her, but you ignore it in favour of keeping eye contact with the silently fuming butler.

"And, I'm sorry you'll forgive me for querying, where did you get your expertise about food from, precisely?" The last word is hissed out through grit teeth. Nami spoke from beside you.

"They grew up and work in a restaurant. A successful one, given the stories of the patrons we've discussed." Nami eyes were narrowed at the butler.

"Yeah!" Luffy chimed helpfully with a mouthful of food, "They clean the dishes!" You screw your eyes and mouth shut as you pair of you turn to glare at your captain, who smiles shamelessly at you.

"Well." Klahadore cuts with a smug smile, "You'll forgive me for not taking the word of a dish washer over an expert medical opinion. Here, Buchi has prepared your special soup." The chef gingerly places the bowl down in front of her, shooting a glare over at you, which you returned.

"Kaya, it's your birthday. You should be able to eat what you want."

"Miss Kaya's medical condition," Klahadore once again cuts in your and Nami's pleas to allow the girl some freedom, "necessitates that I closely monitor her dietary needs."

"Does it mean you also speak for her?" Luffy raises his hand from beside you.

"I'll take her fish." Usopp gulps and tries to divert the conversation.

"Luffy, isn't there something that you wanted to talk to Kaya about?"

"Oh! Yes! Usopp told me that you own the whole shipyard." Kaya smiles slightly.

"Well, actually my parents founded the shipyard, and Merry's been running the business since... well, since they passed." Merry raises his glass to her. "But all of that's about to change. Tonight, at midnight, I will become the sole owner."

"Ah, well. That's great, because we want to buy a ship from you."

"I see! Usopp mentioned that you're sailors." The two share a small smile before Luffy opens his big mouth and ruins it.

"Nope, not sailors. We're pirates." You, very very slowly, lower your head to the table and begin to bang it against the wood surface gently. Usopp spits his drink back into his glass as both Zoro and Nami take longs sips of their own.

"This oughta be good." Kaya's eyes glance between you in confusion.

"Pirates?"

"Yep. We haven't sailed together for very long, but we have already defeated an evil clown, raided a Marine base, and taken down a captain with an axe for a hand and a nasty lieutenant." Your shoulders start to shake in quiet laughter. You couldn't help it, this is going so badly already, and you've all barely started.

"These sound a lot like your adventures, Usopp." He laughs breathlessly,

"Yeah, that's, that's crazy."

"Oh yeah! And we're just getting started." Luffy happily climbs on to his chair and stands on the table, glass in hand.

"What are you doing? Get down from there at once!" Klahadore starts to move around the table, making for Luffy, and you stand to block his way, wanting to allow your captain to at least finish his point. The butler sneers down at you, but you don't move.

"Being a pirate has been my dream for as long as I can remember. And I'm finally making it a reality." He drops his elbow to his knee, making direct eye contact with Kaya. "We're heading out to the Grand Line, where even more adventures await us. And at the end of the journey, I'm gonna find the ultimate treasure," he starts walking down the table, "the One Piece, and become King of the Pirates." Kaya stares up at him.

"You're... serious?" Taking a gulp, he pushes the still mostly full glass into Klahadore's face, breaking up the staring competition you had going on with him, though you don't sit. He growls as he takes it out of Luffy's hand. Reaching down, he takes Kaya by the shoulders gently.

"Kaya. You have a beautiful ship out there. A caravel with a sheep figurehead. It spoke to me. To us! That's the ship we need to follow our dreams. I promise you we'll take care of it. Maintain it. Treat it like any other member of our crew, because a ship is also a home." A small smile begins to form on Kaya's face before Klahadore roars out.

"That will be quite enough! I should've known Usopp would bring riffraff to our doorstep."

"Klahadore, it's okay, I-" but before she could finish her sentence, she begins to cough.

"Now look what you've done. You've upset Miss Kaya. All of you, out of this house at once!" Kaya shakes her head and wheezes out a

"No. It's late. Let them stay the night." Klahadore helps her up as she stands, shakily.

"As you wish, Miss Kaya. But they are out, first thing in the morning." And he rushes her out of the dining room, leaving you all in stunned silence.

"That went pretty well." Luffy chirps as you pull him by the shoulder off his perch on the table, shooting sidelong glares at the hovering staff who were glaring back at you. "Don't you think?"

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You follow Nami quietly as she makes her way through the dark hallways. Watching her pick up different items and feeling the weight of them in her hands before stashing them in her pillow case sack. She had changed out of her dress, but you had kept the waistcoat and trousers on, fancy pointed boots swapped for your wide toed ones instead.

"If you don't like me stealing from her, either say your piece or go back to your room, there's no point in following behind me and judging silently."

"I don't like you stealing from her, but given that I won't be returning this suit, I'm not one to talk." She stops and turns back to you, eyes trailing up your arms and shoulders, following the length of chains embedded in your skin.

"I didn't know you had tattoos. Adds to the whole 'why I thought you were a pirate' thing." She did air quotes around the words and laughed softly.

"Tattoos?" she looked at you frowning and gestured to your still bare arms, jacket abandoned. "Oh! Oh yeah, I don't-" You laugh awkwardly, "I don't know where I got these. Had them as long as I can remember." You shrugged as she looked them over, quietly stunned.

"As long as you can rememb- like even when you were a baby?" She asks, gobsmacked, and you nod thoughtfully.

"Yeah. I don't know if they are, ya know." She looks at you, "Tattoos, I mean, they're- deep, like, really deep, here feel." And without warning you grab her hand, running it up and down the chain links marred across your arm. Instead of the raised skin of an old scarred tattoo, or the smooth skin of a well healed one, the skin under the chains is sunken, like their buried deep into the flesh of your arm, leaving a gap deep and wide enough for you to easily slot your ring finger into. She gagged and pulled away quickly and you chortled at her over reaction. 

"You're right, those-" she gags softly and looks at them horrified, "Those aren't tattoos." Shaking her hand to rid herself of the feeling she turns back to her heisting, dropping a solid, probably silver candlestick in her sack. "Why are you following me then, if not to disapprove?" You hummed, peering out through the curtains to the dark gardens below.

"I don't trust that gardener. Or the maid. Or the chef. Or the butler as it happens." She smirks at you.

"So you don't trust any of them."

"Yea."

"And that means you're following me because...?"

"I know you can handle yourself, but something here feels... off. I thought maybe we should, ya know, stick together. Where we can." You shrug lamely, peering down the dark corridors as she moves further through the labyrinth of halls.

"Well, you're not wrong. I can handle myself, and unlike you," she glares down at your boots, "and those shoes, I know how to be quiet when I'm looting so maybe you should just-"

Footsteps echoing down the corridor drag both your attentions away from the small argument you had started, and in a flash you separate, assuming the other would be following behind. As she books it to the nearest door and slips inside, you twirl around and dash, as quietly as you can, down the hall from where you came, catching hold of one of the floor length curtains and wrapping yourself, perching up on to the windowsill and obscuring your shape behind it.

As the footsteps pass by, you hold your breath and watch the reflection in the glass. A tall looming figure passes, and the sound of rattling follows, the sound dragging along with a "shuff-shuff" against the carpet.

Peeking out from behind the dark fabric, you watch the figure move deeper into the darkness. It is hard to make out but the shape of the floppy dark hat atop their head cause your eyes to widen as you recognise who it is.

The gardener Roku carrying a large sack over his shoulder, with lengths of chains dragging along behind him in the darkness.

As he slips around another corner, the chain clipping the wall as he goes. There's a near silent rustling of fabric as you move beneath the curtain, carefully, carefully, unbuckling and unzipping the black boots on your feet before placing them down on the ground, toes no longer hidden under the length of the fabric. Now bare foot, you drop on to the carpet and look around.

"Nami?" You whisper into the darkness, listening for the noise of dragging chains returning. "Nami?!"

You get no response.

You suck in a deep breathe through your nose and stop. Your hands are shaking as you pull your gold bandana from the pocket of the waistcoat and try to tie it deftly around your head. The scar tissue of your skin and the leather gloves make it hard to bend your fingers, the lack of sensation and tremors from the damage done making them even harder to control.

Your arms were itchy.

Your body aches and you're tired.

You didn't eat much of the disgusting dinner, so you're hungry.

You're head is pulsing and your powers are screaming at you as energy whistles around your ears.

It's dark.

But you focus. And you follow.

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Silently, you follow Roku through the mansion, down, down, down, until he stops in the doorway of the wine cellar.

You stop as well, peering down at him from around the corner as he stands, chains coiled around his feet. He pulls off the stupid hat, revealing two pointed horns of hair, almost mimicking cat ears. One is made from a patch of bright white, a stark difference to the dark hue of grey the rest of his hair is made up off.

There's someone talking in the cellar itself, the low familiar drone alerting you to Zoro's presence. There's the "shing" of a sword being drawn and the twang of thin sheets of metal bouncing off each other before another figure in dark clothing appears in front of the gardener, hands sporting five sharp blades at the end of each figure. Damn those look cool. The shattering of glass breaks the moment as well as the bottle and you realise with a start, that this is very bad. Very bad indeed.

You're standing at the point of a bottle neck, down one Zoro, and up potentially four assailants. And you have no idea where anyone else has gone. Ignoring the scuffling from the room, you turn tail and sprint back up the stairs of the cellar, the only indication you've been heard is the thump of Roku's sack onto the ground and the loud, heavy footsteps following behind your own.

The noise echoes all around you as you make a mad dash through the halls, the gardener hot on your tail as he hisses and snarls in the darkness, voice mocking and raspy as he calls out to you.

"Here, little kitty, come here!"

"Big ol' Roku won't do you no harm!"

"We just needs you to stay very quiet for a very long time!"

"COME HERE I SAY!"

Shooting around one more corner, you spot a door ahead of you, unbarred and hopefully unlocked. As you barrel into it, you're relieved to learn you were right, the latch giving way immediately as you all but tear it from its hinges.

The cool night air stings your lungs and your skin, small sharp rocks in the gravel digging into your feet and burying themselves into your skin. You think, you hope, you pray you had escaped him as your mad dash pushes you out past the topiary bushes and glorious flowerbeds. 

Your eyes just barely spot the faint lights from the distant village before something winds around your foot and lurches you back, sending you plummeting face first into the gravel. Rolling over, you catch sight of Roku's arm outstretched, the length of chain and shockingly familiar grooves cut through his skin. With a yank, the chain on your ankle tightens and hauls you back, your skin scoured by the rocks beneath you, and, in a moment of awful, gut churning panic, you copy his motion, reeling your arm back and swing it forward.

Weight chases up your arm as the chains on your arm shift and pull and snap out of your flesh, the end of the length whipping through the air and cracking him right in the centre of his forehead. For a moment, silence rings out, and then as one.

You both release blood curdling screams.

Next Chapter: Let Sleeping Cats Die

[goldenseresinretriever]

You Catch More Bees With Honey: Chapter 1

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Reader

Part of the San Diego Dogfighters universe

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw, blindsided by a team he trusted like family has been traded to the San Diego Dogfighters. Across the country from the place he calls home, Bradley feels lost and betrayed. Not to mention the familiar faces and ghosts from his past that he now has to face every day at work. Bradley’s caught between wanting to show his former team the mistake they made in double-crossing him and wondering if it’s time to hang up his skates after one final season. You’re living your dream as the PR representative for the Dogfighters. When Coach Maverick made a bid to bring his godson to the team, you hadn’t batted an eye. Bradley was a good teammate, and a good player. Unfortunately, the Bradley that shows up in San Diego is nothing like your research suggested. He’s moody, irritable, aggressive, and angry, throwing a wrench in all your careful planning. What’s caused such a drastic change in him? And can you figure out how to help him before he makes a mistake you can’t fix?

Series CW: 18+ ONLY, swearing, dead parents, drunkenness, alcohol consumption, violence, sports violence, blood probably, angst, fluff, eventual smut, age gap (28 and 38), enemies to lovers, suggestive language, hockey inaccuracies etc. There will be individual chapter warnings. No use of Y/N.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This is a repost of my completed series, You Catch More Bees With Honey. It was originally posted in November-March 2023, and was lost when my blog was deleted.

Previous Chapter // Series Masterlist // Next Chapter

“BRADLEY! BRADSHAW!” The flush that started on Cyclone’s neck has crept up to encompass his whole face much like a glass filling with fruit punch. You fight the urge to check your phone for the time. He might actually break his record for the longest screaming session yet and there’s a pool in the staff room riding on it that would definitely cover those new heels you’d been eyeing. Next to you, Dare Mitchell, the head coach of the San Diego Dogfighters as of last month, blatantly checks her watch and if you weren’t already enamored with everything this woman did, you definitely were now.

Cyclone’s still yelling, but the two of you stopped listening a long time ago it seems as Dare stands before looking down at you. “Come on Zam, let’s go.” If you weren’t so good at maintaining a poker face you think your jaw might have dropped. You get to your feet and follow Dare as she marches towards the door of Cyclone’s office and he finally pauses his tirade and you glance at your phone. New record indeed. “I am NOT finished!” He snaps and Dare turns in the doorway to face him coolly.

“Beau you were finished the minute this stopped being a conversation. When you’re ready to resume said conversation, you know where to find us.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond before turning on her heel and walking off down the hallway and you’re right behind her. When the elevator doors finally close behind the two of you, you feel the obligation to say SOMETHING. In your few months in San Diego, you haven’t met a lot of people with the balls to stand up to Beau Simpson. Until recently, the list began and ended with the Dogfighters’s Captain, Jake Seresin. Admittedly it only extended to when Cyclone was threatening his now-girlfriend Bugs, the assistant team physician but it was nice to see that at least someone was willing to do something about the man’s unchecked temper.

Now it included Dragon, the new goalie development coach who also happened to be Cyclone’s daughter. When she’d joined the staff, everyone had been apprehensive at best. One Simpson was already tough enough to handle but she’d surprised everyone by being congenial and even fun. She truly became one of the team, however, the day that she placed a crisp hundred dollar bill into the betting pool against her father’s temper. While Cyclone was a storm with no eye, Dragon was an eye that only seemed to blow into a storm when she stood toe to toe with her father. At least that was the word through the grapevine. Bugs had been going to drop off some paperwork in his office last week and said she’d been able to hear their shouting match from the other end of the hallway. Good for her.

The third entry was the woman standing next to you. Dare Mitchell was NHL royalty. She had been the league’s first female assistant coach and then head coach, going on to coach the Pittsburgh Penguins to no short of five Stanley Cup victories. Her nickname, Dare, stands for Definitive Authority on Rink Education, or Referee Ejection depending on who you ask. The fact that you were working alongside her still had you pinching yourself when you walked into work every morning. There’s definitely been a shift in the energy of the team since she took over the Head Coach title from Maverick after Game 3. This is just one of the many side effects and you can’t say you’re not grateful for the change.

There are unpopular whispers that Maverick asked Cyclone for the demotion himself but you know they're probably true. While Pete Mitchell is a talented hockey player, and he’s spent the years since his retirement coaching rec leagues, he’s not exactly on the level of the NHL. Why would he willingly pass the title to someone else, people ask. Well, it probably begins with the fact that she’s his wife. Dare and Pete Mitchell’s marriage is anything but common knowledge. In fact, the only people on the team that know are you, Bugs, Jake, and Maverick’s girlfriend, Penny. Sure they share a last name but Maverick’s been publically dating Penny Benjamin for the last few decades, so no one would even consider that he’s married to someone else entirely. According to Bugs and Jake, Maverick claims they separated amicably, not feeling the need to finalize a divorce but sometimes you see the way Dare stares at him when he’s not looking and wonder if that’s just his version of events.

“Thanks,” you say, awkwardly breaking the silence as the elevator travels back down to the ground floor. You never know how to talk to Dare, the temptation to make a fool of yourself by accidentally letting slip that you’re her biggest fan is a hazard you have to avoid every time you open your mouth. “Not many people are willing to stand up to Cyclone like that.”

She snorts, “It’s hard to take him seriously when every time I look at him, I just see the snot-nosed kid whose lunch money I used to steal.” You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck as you try to imagine Beau Simpson as a snot-nosed kid while also trying to process that Dare has known him for that long and used to steal his lunch money.

“You’ve known him that long?” You stammer as the elevator jolts to a halt and the two of you step out, walking side by side towards your respective offices.

“Beau and I grew up in the same town. We were never really friends but we were acquainted in the way that you know everyone in a town that small.” She shrugs. “He wasn’t always so full of hot air but maybe that’s why he is now. Needless to say, I have zero tolerance for childish tantrums in the workplace, regardless of who’s throwing them, my players or my colleagues.” You nod in agreement as you reach your office door. “And Zam? I think it might be in your best interest to have a word with Bradley Bradshaw.” The corner of her lips is teasing into the faintest hint of a smirk as you roll your eyes.

“You think?” She chuckles at that, before turning to continue to her own office.

Entering your office, you drop into your desk chair, letting out the frustrated groan you’ve been holding back all morning. You pull up Bradley Bradshaw’s profile on your computer and absently think that you should update the photo you have to his official Dogfighters’s headshot because he’s smiling in this photo and you’re pretty sure in the three months that you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him smile let alone show any expression of joy or even happiness. You jot down a note on your pink sticky note pad to update player photos. Heaving a huge sigh, you open the team portal and put in a request for a meeting with Bradley. One of the coaches will send him your way when he has a moment so in the meantime you read over his profile yet again. When Maverick first entertained the idea of trading for Bradley you hadn’t really batted an eye, even considering him a decent pick, all things considered, but now you wish you’d pushed back that day in the conference room because this man has been the beginning and end of all your problems ever since the season started. Sure you have other problems that you’re juggling. Despite your best efforts, Javy Machado continues to sleep with anything with tits, but right now it’s the least of your worries. You’re more concerned with the fact that Bradley Bradshaw’s almost spent more time in the penalty box this season than the rest of the team combined. He’s been irritable, to say the least, and while he used to play the role of enforcer more often, preferring to retaliate than provoke, ever since coming to San Diego he’s done nothing but pick fights on the ice. To the point that Cyclone’s yelling at you and Dare about it instead of Bradshaw himself. Dare because she’s his coach. You because this is doing disastrous things for the team’s reputation. Just because “fighter” is in the team name doesn’t mean it needs to be taken literally, apparently.

You don’t get it. Maverick asked for Bradley specifically, and he’s his godfather, you’d think Bradley would be ecstatic to be here. After all, his father died when he was just a kid. You’d assume that he and Maverick are close. You wonder if Dare knows anything about it. If things get dire enough you may have to ask her, even if she doesn’t know that you know about her and Maverick. Sighing, you click away from Bradley’s profile as you move on to other work while you wait for him to show, sparing a glance at the clock on the wall before picking up your phone to text the group chat labeled Cyclone Relief Fund. “19 minutes,” followed by a partying emoji. Mama’s getting a new pair of heels.

~~~~~

It’s a little after noon when there’s finally a knock on your door. You call for the knocker to enter and Bradley Bradshaw opens the door, taking a seat across from your desk. You fight an amused chuckle at the way his giant body dwarfs the petite pink armchair across from you. You have a feeling he won’t find it as funny as you do. He’s wearing a black Dogfighters’s tee that’s gripping his muscular arms for dear life over sweats, his curly hair still damp from the showers.

His whisky eyes are studying the space around you with curiosity mixed with thinly veiled disgust. You try to see it through his eyes. The boring white walls have been meticulously covered with adhesive wallpaper in a soft baby pink. Hanging on them is a carefully curated collection of art prints in matching white frames. Floating shelves on the wall are decorated with various tchotchkes in various shades of pink and white. A bright pink shag rug sits under your white wood desk, housing the pink faux leather desk chair you’re seated in and the plush pink armchair that Bradley’s spilling out of.

“Something wrong?” You ask when it’s been too long with him just blatantly ogling your decor.

“This looks like Barbie’s dream house.” He states, unamused, as his eyes come back to you.

“Actually I was going for more of an office or career Barbie than Malibu but it was probably on the vision board too.” You say, turning to your computer as you pull up the folder of articles that Cyclone sent you this morning. “Glad you like it.”

“I don’t.” His voice is flat and you peer up at him over the top of your screen. Your eyebrow twitches with annoyance at his blunt rudeness.

“Well if I ever get a suggestion box, I’ll make sure you’re the first to know, Bradshaw.” You snip as you turn the screen you’re looking at so that Bradley can see it. “So I think you can guess what you’re here to talk about. In the last fifteen games you’ve played, you’ve spent more time in the penalty box than any other player.”

He arches a dark brown eyebrow, “Hockey is a contact sport, honey.” Your eyebrow twitches again at the nickname.

“I’m sure the occasional bump is considered contact but throwing down your gloves to punch your opponent in the nose has very little to do with puck handling don’t you think?” Your voice is civil, and reasonable, as you pull up the video of Bradley’s fist making contact with the face of the Jets’s defenseman. That had handed him a five-minute major penalty for fighting.

“You’re not on the ice. Sometimes they’re asking for it.” You say a silent prayer for patience.

“You realize that you can get suspended for this right? You’re lucky you only have one instigator penalty so far out of all those fighting penalties.”

“I know that, honey. Three instigators earn you a two-game suspension, and it increases after that. I’ve read the rules.” You clench your jaw at how nonchalant he’s being about this. He’s got a smorgasbord of minor penalties, a couple of majors for general fighting, and one blatant instigator penalty. He’s on thin ice, pun intended.

“Regardless of the official NHL rules, what are you going to do if your coaches decide to bench you?” You raise an eyebrow at him and watch as he stiffens. It seems you’re finally a move ahead of him. You like it. “And given that Cyclone just yelled at me and Dare over the state of your performance? I’d say it’s bound to happen sooner rather than later.” His fists clench in his lap, but he doesn’t say anything. You decide to plow ahead while he’s not fighting every word coming out of your mouth.

“While your performance on the ice isn’t my department, how it reflects on the team is. Currently media outlets are describing you as a loose cannon and bordering on a danger to other players. If this keeps up, the team could be forced to bench you indefinitely or even let you go completely.” You purse your lips in a thin line. “I’m doing what I can in terms of damage control but we have to work together here. I can’t promise that you’re working on it if we don’t see any actual change.”

He snorts at that, sitting back as best he can. “You want some advice, honey? Stay out of it. It’s none of your business.” You clench a fist in your lap. WHY DOES HE INSIST ON FIGHTING YOU?

“Actually, it is. This is my JOB, Bradshaw. Just because you don’t feel like doing yours doesn’t mean I’m going to follow suit just because you want me to.” His honey eyes flash with warning but you don’t back down, meeting them with yours, steel in your gaze. “I didn’t get this job by letting people like you walk all over me, Bradshaw and I don’t intend on starting now.” Your fingers fly over the keyboard and you pull up some paparazzi photos from the last few weeks. “You’re getting drunk and causing trouble in public,” you click through photos of an intoxicated Bradley leaving a bar and getting into a shoving match with some guy. You sigh, fighting the urge to pinch your nose as a dull throbbing takes up residence in your temples.

Bradley just gives you a cold look. “What? So a man can’t go to a bar and have a drink anymore?” The throbbing intensifies and you fantasize about launching yourself over your desk and wrapping your perfectly manicured hands around his enormous neck.

“Look,” your voice is pure ice to hide the vitriol threatening to take over, “if you’re not going to change your behavior, at least do me a favor and be a train wreck in private from now on.” You could hear a pin drop as you barely hold back from spitting the words at Bradley. The two of you glare at each other, the white expanse of your desk a no-man’s-land between the wars in your eyes. “You’re free to go.” Your voice is the exact opposite of your face. It’s prim, proper, congenial. It matches the rest of your persona. Your bright butter-yellow suit makes you look like sunshine incarnate even as you burn underneath with the fury of a thousand suns. Bradley’s still glaring at you as he extricates himself from the armchair and stalks out the door without another word, letting the door slam behind him. You want to scream but the walls in the place are far too thin, so you do the next best thing, launching yourself out of your chair not bothering to push it back as you storm out of your office.

***

You barge into Bugs’s office and she looks up from whatever chart she’s currently perusing as you grab a handful of gummy bears from her candy dish and throw yourself into the chair across from her. She raises a single eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything as you aggressively chew the green confections.

“I’d think you’d be happier since you just won the betting pool but what’s up?” She says finally when it’s obvious that you won’t be volunteering any information.

“Bradley. Bradshaw.” You spit as you pop another gummy bear into your mouth and her eyes soften in

understanding even as her mouth tightens into a tense line. You know she knows what you’re talking about, especially since she’s been the one patching him up. “Cyclone asked me to do something about him because he’s dragging the team through the mud, and you know what he said? He told me to stay out of it! As if this isn’t MY JOB! He doesn’t care about his reputation, he doesn’t care if he doesn’t get to play, I don’t get it! What’s got his panties in such a twist!” You’re fuming as you continue to shred through gummy bears. “This is an amazing opportunity! Why is he so eager to throw it away?”

“Maybe he doesn’t want to be here?” Bugs asks, brows furrowed in thought. “He did exclusively play for the Flyers for the last sixteen years.” You shake your head.

“That doesn’t make any sense. The Flyers have been trying to pawn him off to the highest bidder for the better part of the last two seasons.” Bugs’s eyes raise in surprise and you shrug. “He’s getting old and they would much rather have a good draft pick for rookie talent. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks and all that. At least that’s what their manager told me. When Maverick asked them for a trade they practically threw him at us, they couldn’t believe their luck.”

“Maverick asked to trade for Bradley?” She asks, confused. “Isn’t it usually the manager’s job to do that?”

You nod. “Normally, yeah, but Maverick asked for Bradley himself. Apparently, he’s his godson.” Bugs’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Bradley is Mav’s GODSON?!” You nod.

“It makes sense actually, given that he’s Nick Bradshaw’s son and all.” You watch the realization hit Bugs’s face.

“Oh my god, I never put it together.” She whispers. You can’t blame her. Bradshaw is a common enough last name and no one’s first instinct is to tie someone to a tragedy as well known as that of Nick “Goose” Bradshaw.

Nick “Goose” Bradshaw played for the Philadelphia Flyers back in the 80s, at the same time as Maverick. The two were best friends, inseparable on and off the ice. Nick Bradshaw got his nickname, Goose, because he was always sticking his neck out for Maverick and it ended in one of the most infamous hockey tragedies in NHL history.

While hockey is one of the most violent of the contact sports, it’s highly regulated to ensure that fatal injuries don’t occur due to fighting, but every now and then something slips through the cracks and that’s what happened in the case of Goose Bradshaw. Maverick got into an altercation on the ice and when another player tried to get involved, Goose tried to interfere to keep the numbers even, which resulted in him losing his helmet in the fray and being thrown into the boards, hitting his head. While the physician on duty deemed that Goose was fine, he sat out the rest of the game. Two days later he died of a brain hemorrhage, widowing his wife Carole and leaving his two-year-old son, Bradley Bradshaw, fatherless. The Bradshaw family disappeared from the public eye until Bradley caught the media’s attention when he joined the Penn State Nittany Lions in college as a left winger, following in his late father’s footsteps.

“So you’d think he’d be happy to be here, with Maverick.” You muse and Bugs nods, still frowning.

“Family doesn’t always get along, though,” she says with a shrug. You know she’s close with hers and you’re as close as you can be with yours. “But still why would he throw his whole career away like this? It doesn’t make sense.” She’s right, it doesn’t and so you’re left to ponder the enigma that is Bradley Bradshaw.

***

You’re still thinking about it as you get ready to leave for the night. Unsurprisingly, you’re the only one left. The sky has long since darkened outside, but you’re married to your job. You need to do the best you can to keep Cyclone off your back for long enough for Bradley to figure his shit out. You step into the arena proper, the lights are on as the Zamboni drives around, cleaning up the ice after practice so it’ll be perfect tomorrow morning. You gaze at the rink as the machine drives back and forth across the surface and your heart aches. A part of you longs to step back out onto the smooth surface and feel the cool air radiating off the rink kiss your cheeks just one more time. You aren’t sure when the tears filled your eyes but you blink them out as you whisper. “I miss you, Mom. I wish you were here. I wish you could see this. I’m in California now, and it’s so different from home, but you were right. As long as there’s ice, it’s not that different after all.”

[studyaxis]

🕮 Read in August

“All this time I told myself we were born from war—but I was wrong, Ma. We were born from beauty. Let no one mistake us for the fruit of violence—but that violence, having passed through the fruit, failed to spoil it.” ― Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

[winchesterwild78]

Chance Meeting pt 16

Master list

18+ Minors DO NOT interact

Please be kind and all mistakes are my own. All work is mine. Please don’t take or copy it.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, Jensen being a sweetheart

Chapter Warning & summary: Nervous energy, SMUT (because y’all know me 😂), people crossing a line, mention of violence

A/N: This chapter is Fluffy and sees our lovebirds exploring the area together. I haven’t mentioned the kids names or his ex for a reason. This is fiction and I don’t want any disrespect towards Jensen’s family. I adore him and this is just fiction. However, because he’s older it made sense for him to be divorced and with children. I also got long winded on this one 😝

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A few days later your alarm was blaring. It was time to get up and get the kids ready for school. The kids had a few days left before Winter Break and Jensen’s ex had asked y’all to watch them while she was away for work. You groaned and turned over to turn off the alarm. Jensen groaned and covered his face with the blanket. You laughed and slid back under the blanket. “Wake up sleepyhead. We need to get the kids ready for school.” You said kissing his face. He huffed and took off the blanket. “Ugh, why can’t we just stay here all day” he asked. You smiled, kissed his lips and said “I’ll get the coffee and breakfast started.”

You got out of bed and grabbed your robe and headed out the door as Jensen climbed in the shower. You walked through the house and went to the kitchen. You started the coffee and decided cereal and fruit were good for breakfast. You cut some fresh fruit and as Jensen walked into the kitchen the coffee was ready. “Mmm coffee, thank you babe” he said as he grabbed a cup. “I’ll get the kids up and ready, you drink your coffee” you said as you walked upstairs.

You knocked on the kids’ doors and got them up. They could dress themselves and you helped the girls with their hair. They all brushed their teeth and went downstairs. “Good morning, daddy” they said as they saw Jensen and they threw their arms around him. There was no denying they loved their daddy and he loved them. It made your heart warm seeing him with his babies. The kids got their cereal and some fruit. They ate quickly and before too long it was time to leave. Jensen told them to grab their book bags and head out to the car. You ran upstairs to change quickly while the kids were finishing up. As they loaded into the car you were walking out the door. Jensen drove and you sat beside him. He grabbed your hand and placed a kiss on it. Getting giggles from the backseat. You smiled at him and looked out the window.

It wasn’t long before he was pulling up to the school. “Daddy, can you walk me in” his oldest daughter asked. “Sure kiddo, let me park” he said pulling into a spot. You got out to help the kids out and stood there. His youngest two grabbed your hand and said “we want you to walk us in too”. “Okay, I can do that.” You said smiling. Jensen took his other daughter’s hand and the five of you walked towards the door.

“Oh, Mr Ackles, how are you today. We haven’t seen you in awhile” a young woman said with a blush on her face. “I’m doing well, how have you been” he asked. “I’m great now” she said. Smiling at Jensen blushing even more. “Hi, Miss Johnson, this is Miss y/n, she’s gonna marry daddy” his son said. You smirked at Jensen who whipped his head around to look at his son. You extended your hand and said “hello, Miss Johnson it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m y/n, Jensen’s girlfriend.” She was speechless but shook your hand and offered a quiet hello. “Jens, we really should get these three to class before they are late. Would you excuse us Miss Johnson.” You said looking at Jensen. He nodded and started walking.

After dropping the kids off at their classrooms and being introduced to everyone you and Jensen walked out hand in hand. You passed by Miss Johnson again and gave her a smile and a wave. Jensen chuckled as you walked outside. “What” you asked him with a smile. “Oh nothing, I just love how you put Miss Johnson in her place and did it all with a smile on your face.” He said smirking at you. “Why Jensen I was just being polite.” You said and smirked at him. “Yeah right” he said pulling you into a kiss. After he kissed you he opened your door and you climbed in. Once he got in he told you he had some errands to run if you wanted to tag along. If not he could take you home. “Nope, I’m good. Let’s go” you said.

Jensen told you he needed to head to the brewery for a little bit then he was headed to the grocery store. “Okay, babe. I’m excited to see the brewery. I can’t wait to meet everyone.” You said smiling. He took your hand and kissed it then said “I’m not sure if you know, but some of my ex’s family works there. They should be respectful but just stay close to me until we’re sure.” “Yeah, I can do that” you said swallowing a little hard. You were a little nervous about meeting her family. You weren’t sure how they would be towards you, but you knew Jensen had you.

You two walked hand in hand to the door. He gave your hand a slight squeeze and you smiled.

“Hey guys. How is everyone today” Jensen called out as y’all walked in. “Hey Jens. Welcome back brother” a tall dark haired man called out. Everyone started yelling their hellos from around the brewery. A few people walked up and hugged him. The dark haired man walked over and Jensen whispered to you “that’s my ex brother-in-law”. You squeezed his hand and took a deep breath.

“Hey man. How have you been?” The man asked Jensen as he pulled him into a hug. “I’ve been great man. Glad to be home. Where are my manners. G this is y/n, my girlfriend. Y/n, this is G” Jensen said as he introduced you. “Oh hey y/n. I’ve heard so much about you from my sister. Thanks for being so supportive of her and Jensen and their kids.” He said as he pulled you into a hug. “Um, yeah of course. She will always be part of his life and she’s their mother so why wouldn’t I be, but thank you. I appreciate you saying so.” You said as you pulled back from the hug.

An older woman walked over to Jensen and gave him a hug. “We missed you Jensen. So glad you’re back home” she said. “Me too Miss V. Miss V, this is my incredible girlfriend y/n. Honey, this is Miss V. She keeps all of us in line and takes care of the books for me. She’s been a family friend since before I was born.” He said to you. You extended your hand to shake hers but she pulled you into a hug. “Oh honey we hug here. I’m so pleased to finally meet the woman who stole his heart.” She said as she pulled you into a hug. She whispered in your ear “take care of our boy, he’s got a big heart but he’s been hurt before.” You hugged her back and whispered “I will, I promise. He means so much to me. I love him very deeply”. She offered you a soft smile.

“Well sweetheart I’ve got some things to check out in the brewing room, will you be okay here?” Jensen asked as he touched your arm. Miss V spoke up and said “I’ve got your girl. We will be fine.” She gave you a smile and you nodded to Jensen. He kissed you and said he’d be back. “Miss V, don’t tell her all my secrets” Jensen said with a wink. “Don’t worry I’ll only tell her the juicy ones.” She said with a chuckle. Jensen chuckled as he walked away and Miss V took your hand and led you to a table.

Miss V sat down and you sat across from her. “Okay sweetie tell me how you met our boy. I’ve heard rumors but I want to hear it from you.” She said with a smile as she took your hand. You told her about the convention and how you felt an instant connection to him. You talked and smiled as she watched you intently. You told her about your family and how you want to make sure you have a good relationship with his ex for the sake of the kids and him. She just sat and smiled at you. She took your hand in both of hers and said “oh sweetie I can see from your eyes how much you love him. It’s so sweet of you to keep his ex included. Not many women would do that.” “Thank you, I do love him and his kids very much.” You said with a soft smile.

Jensen walked up to the table and put his hand on Miss V’s shoulder. “What are my two favorite ladies doing over here.” He said smiling. Miss V smiled and looked at him “oh you know, talking about you and girl stuff” she said with a wink. Jensen laughed and you smiled. “Yep, you and girl stuff. Lots of juicy stuff too” you said with a grin. “Well I hate to pull you ladies apart but we have more errands to run.” Jensen said offering you his hand. Miss V stood up and gave him a hug. She walked over to you and whispered “You got yourself a great man. Let him take care of you and you take care of him. Don’t pay attention to the noise and you’ll be okay.” She gave you a hug and you thanked her.

You took Jensen’s hand and y’all walked out of the brewery. “How was your chat with Miss V” Jensen asked smiling. “It was nice. She gave me some advice and she really cares about you.” You told him. “Yeah, she’s been around for it all. The marriage, the kids and the divorce. She’s like a mom to me.” He said as he opened the car door for you. You slid in and he climbed in the drivers seat. “Where to babe” you asked him. “I’m taking my girl to lunch then grocery shopping. Maybe when we get home I’ll just take her.” He said as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. You smiled and blushed. “I’d love nothing more than that babe” you said.

Jensen pulled into a small diner and helped you get out of the car. He walked in with you on his arm. As you two walked through the door a middle aged woman greeted you. “Oh, Jensen! How are you honey. I haven’t seen you in forever, and who’s this beautiful young woman here.” She asked looking at you. “Hey Sarah, this is y/n. My girlfriend. Figured I’d bring her to my favorite lunch spot.” Jensen said hugging her. “Well, honey it’s so nice to meet you. Follow me and I’ll get you seated.” She said as she walked towards the back booth. She sat the menus down and took your drink orders. She walked away as you and Jensen looked over the menu. Well, as you did. He already knew what he was going to get. Jensen told you the bacon cheeseburger, fries and chocolate pie was amazing. When Sarah came back that’s exactly what he ordered. You told her you’d have the same thing. He chuckled and took your hands in his.

“I’m so glad I get to share this with you y/n. I love you so much.” He leaned over the table and placed a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you too, Jensen. I’m glad I get to see your life here. It seems like there really are a lot of people who care about you.” You said with a soft smile. He blushed a little and smiled. Lunch arrived and a comfortable silence fell over the two of you while you were eating. Sarah came over a few times to check on you and refill your drinks. Jensen was right, the food was absolutely delicious and you were stuffed.

Jensen paid the check and y’all headed for the grocery store. You and Jensen picked out groceries and decided on things for dinner. It felt good walking through the store and picking out groceries with him. Never in a million years did you ever think you’d be grocery shopping with Jensen Ackles. Yet here you were shopping for things for your house. Everything was so easy with him. You loved how comfortable everything felt. Once you finished shopping y’all headed for checkout. There was a little bit of a line and you got a bit nervous. Anytime you’re in one spot for too long he tends to get recognized.

There were three people in front of you. You noticed a few people looking at him and at you. Jensen could sense your anxiety and leaned over whispering “it’s okay baby. I’m here and I’ve got you”. He always knew what to say to help ease your mind. You smiled and he kissed your lips. He wrapped his arm around you pulling you close to his side. Just as y’all were about to get the front of the line you heard a squeal behind you. Everyone turned around to face the sound. It was a group of young women. Probably mid to late twenties and they had their eyes locked on Jensen. He gave them a small smile and wave and turned back around. You started to put the groceries on the belt and Jensen stepped up to the cashier. “Good afternoon. How are you today” he asked the cashier. “Hello Mr Ackles, I’m good.” She said with a smile. You smirked as you noticed she had a hard time looking at him.

The women from the store came around to the front. Jensen paid for the groceries as you loaded them into the cart. You both thanked the cashier and started to walk away. The women approached Jensen. Saying what big fans they were, asking him all these questions about upcoming things, how were the kids, etc. You stood by waiting because you know how much his fans mean to him. They asked for selfies and of course he agreed. You noticed there was one that was getting a bit grabby. Jensen jumped. He shook it off as an accident, however she let her hand slip to his butt. You stepped up but didn’t say anything yet. Jensen said “um sorry ladies hands above the waist”. He posed for more pictures and you noticed the woman was rubbing her chest on him and her hand “slipped” to his bulge.

This is when you stepped in. “Okay ladies, picture time is over. He asked you to keep your hands above his waist and you’re trying to feel him up while rubbing your breasts on him. Now step away from him.” You said sternly. Jensen stepped back and the woman stepped forward. “What’s your problem lady. We were just having some fun and taking pictures.” She said. “My problem is he’s asked you not to touch him and you did it anyway. That’s assault sweetheart. Now back away from him.” You said standing in between her and Jensen. She scoffed at you and looked at Jensen. He stood there smirking at her. He grabbed your hand and said “come on baby, let’s go home”. Her eyes went wide and you turned towards him and kissed him. “Yes, let’s go home. I believe you owe me a snuggle”. You said chuckling. You both walked out of the store leaving the women standing there with their jaws on the floor

Once in the car you asked Jensen if he was okay and he said yes. “That was kinda badass babe. It turned me on watching you get all protective” he said. “Hey, she shouldn’t have put her hands on you. So it turned you on huh” you asked smiling. “Oh yeah. So much.” Jensen said with a devilish smile. As he pulled in the driveway you looked over at him and said “prove it”. He growled and jumped out of the car running around to you. Jensen pulled you out of the car and grabbed your hand.

He pulled you in the house and started attacking your lips. “Jensen we have to get the groceries in first” you said laughing. “Ugh, fine. Let’s make it quick” he said running to the car. You helped him bring in the groceries and put them away quickly. Once the last bit was up he attacked your lips again. He pushed you against the wall and took his hands and ran them over your body. He deepened the kiss and slid his tongue across your bottom lip asking for entrance. You opened your mouth and his tongue darted into your mouth. Your tongues were fighting for dominance. God this man knew how to kiss.

You moaned into his mouth and he pulled you by your hand to the bedroom. He kicked the door closed and clothes started flying around the room. Jensen gently pushed you onto the bed and you landed with a squeal. His eyes turned dark with lust and you bit your bottom lip. “Mmm I told you that’s my job” he growled as he took your lip in his mouth. He gently bit it and you moaned. Heat pooled between your legs. Jensen’s hand slid up your thigh and he slid two fingers between your folds and felt how wet you were. “Damn baby, is this all for me” he said plunging his fingers inside you. You gasped and moaned yes.

You bucked your hips into his hand and he grinned. “So needy, aren’t you” he said with a smirk. “Yes baby. I need you” you said in almost a whine. Jensen moved his fingers in and out. Hooking up and hitting that spot. He rubbed your clit as you moaned and gripped the sheets. “Yes baby, right there. Oh god Jensen make me cum” you breathed out. He moved his fingers faster and he could feel your walls starting to tighten. “Cum for me darlin” Jensen said and it sent you over the edge. You came hard on his hand and he helped you ride it out.

When you came down from your high you told Jensen to lay down. You positioned yourself between his legs and kissed your way up his leg to his hard cock. “You don’t have to baby” Jensen said. “Oh but I want to, Jens. I want to make you feel good.” You said looking up at him. You took his cock slowly in your mouth. As you slid your mouth down Jensen sucked air in. “Mmm god baby that feels good” Jensen moaned. You took his cock all the way in and you swirled your tongue up and down his shaft. “Fuck, y/n if you keep doing that I’m going to cum”. Jensen said. You smiled and did it a few more times. He was moaning loudly and as you got to the head you licked the slit and pulled his cock out of your mouth.

“Damn baby you’re amazing at that” Jensen said. “Just wait until I ride you” you said with a wink. You crawled up and straddled him. You took his cock in your hand and lined it up with your dripping entrance. You slowly started to slide down his shaft. You both gasped as you bottomed out. You looked down at Jensen and his hands slid up your body finding your breasts. Slowly you started grinding and rocking your hips. You set a steady pace as Jensen moved his hands to your hips and gripped you tight. Moans and the sound of the bed squeaking filled the room. Jensen lifted his legs to help steady you and the change of position pushed him in at a different angle. It excited you and you picked up the pace. You leaned back and rocked faster. When you leaned forward Jensen leaned up and captured your lips in a heated kiss. You pulled back and placed your hands on his chest helping steady you. “Oh god baby just like that” Jensen moaned out. This excited you more so you moved your body faster. You moaned and whispered “I love you, Jensen”. “Mmm I love you too, y/n” Jensen said. You knew he was close so you picked up the pace and rocked your hips, taking him deeper inside. He grabbed your breasts and said “I’m gonna cum baby”. You leaned forward and whispered in his ear “cum for me baby.” That’s all it took. Jensen came deep inside you. Spilling his hot seed and costing your walls.

As Jensen softened you climbed off to get a washcloth to clean you both up. You cleaned yourself and helped him get clean. He threw the washcloth in the bathroom and laid back offering you his arm. You snuggled up to him and laid your head on his chest. He kissed the top of your head and you sighed softly. “I love you, y/n” he said softly. “I love you too, Jensen” you whispered back.

You both laid in each other’s arms for a while almost drifting off to sleep but you knew you had to pick up the kids. Jensen’s phone rang. He looked at it and rolled his eyes. “What’s up Jar” he asked as he answered it. “Hey man, Gen wanted to have y’all over for dinner tonight is that okay. We can pick up all the kids and bring them over here and you and y/n can come over later.” Jared said on the phone. “Hold on, let me ask her” Jensen said. “Hey babe, they want us to come over for dinner. Gen will get the kids from school and we will go over later.” He said looking at you. “Sure, do we need to bring anything” you asked. “Sure man, that sounds great. What do we need to bring” Jensen said. “Nothing man, we’ve got it covered. See you later man” Jared said as he hung up. Jensen set an alarm on his phone so you two could be at Jared’s on time.

“Well sweetheart, looks like we’ve got some time to just snuggle.” Jensen said pulling you back to him. You giggled and snuggled back into his arms. You felt peaceful laying in his arms. Nothing sexual, just you two laying holding each other. Feeling safe and happy. Before you knew it the two of you drifted off to sleep.

Jensen’s phone went off indicating it was time to get ready to go to Jared’s house. You both had fallen asleep for about two hours. Jensen grumbled and turned off the alarm. You started to get up and he pulled you back down. “Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart” he said holding you. “I’m going to get ready to go see your babies at Jared and Gen’s.” You said laughing. “Fine since you put it that way” Jensen said pouting. You laughed, leaned down and kissed his lips. “I’m going to shower and get ready. You have a few more minutes babe” you said as you climbed out of bed. “A shower you say” Jensen said with a smirk. “Uh, no. Just me this time. We always end up back in this bed and we need to get going” you said walking in the bathroom. “You’re no fun” he said laughing.

About 30 minutes later you and Jensen were ready to go. He grabbed a six pack of beer he had in the fridge and you got your purse and phone. The drive to Jared’s was quick. You got out of the car and walked with Jensen to the door. Before you could knock the door opened and Jared greeted you. “Hey guys. Glad y’all could make it. The kids are out back and Gen is finishing up the sides for dinner.” He said as he gave you a hug. “Hey Jar, thanks for the invite. Jensen and I appreciate it and we appreciate y’all getting the kids so we could relax” you said as you walked towards the kitchen. “Ha, is that what it’s called now” Jared said nudging Jensen. You rolled your eyes and laughed.

Gen was in the kitchen and you walked in. “Hey Gen. Let me help you with that.” You said as you helped grab some bowls. “Hey y/n, how have you been and thanks” she said. “I’m good. I went with Jensen on some errands today. We went to the brewery and he took me to a little diner for lunch. The grocery store was fine until this girl started groping Jensen” you told her as you two set the table. “Oh wow. I would have lost it.” She said shocked. “Yeah, I almost did but I intervened and we got out of there.” You told her.

All of a sudden you heard running feet and felt little arms fly around your legs. “Miss y/n! I missed you” Jensen’s son said. “Hey buddy, I missed you too. Did you have a good day at school” you asked as you picked him up. “Yep, Michael said a naughty word and got in trouble. I also got to feed the class fish. It was awesome” he said with a big grin. “Oh buddy that sounds great. I hope you don’t say the naughty words Michael said.” You told him with a smile. “No, mommy and daddy said I can’t say those words” he said. You smiled and he hugged your neck. Then he kissed your cheek and wiggled out of your arms. “Bye Miss y/n. See you soon” he said running outside.

You giggled and finished helping set dinner out. “That little boy loves you y/n.” Gen said with a smile. You looked out the window at him running around and said “yeah, I love them all too. They are really good kids”. Gen stood at the door and called everyone in for dinner. The kids came running in and you told them to go wash up. Jared and Jensen followed the kids in and you told them to wash up too. Jared said “yes mom” and laughed. Jensen came up to you and placed a kiss on your cheek and whispered in your ear “I saw you with little man. He really loves you”. You smiled and nodded.

Everyone gathered around the table to eat dinner. The kids talked about their day and how they were excited to have two days left of school before break. The adults chatted about plans to get together during the break and Gen and Jared were really excited to meet your family if they were able to come in town. “I really hope they can. It’s hard to get away, but I hope they can. Even if it’s for just a few days.” You said smiling at Jensen.

After dinner was done and the kitchen was clean it was time to say goodnight. You thanked Jared and Gen again for everything and hugged them goodbye. Jensen’s kids were tired and you carried his youngest daughter out to the car. His son was upset so Jensen carried him and chuckled.

Once you got home you and Jensen got the kids out of the car and ready for bed. You read a story to the kids and you two tucked them in. As you started to leave Jensen’s son’s room he called your name. “Miss Y/n” he said softly. “Yes baby” you turned and said. “Um can I call you mama y/n” he asked with wide eyes. You smiled and your heart swelled. “Oh honey, you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with. I love you and that is up to you” you said as you gave him a big hug. “Okay, good night mama y/n. I love you” he said as he snuggled under his blanket. “Good night sweet boy. I love you too” you said as you closed his door.

As you walked in the hallway Jensen was standing there smiling. You looked at him and smiled. He took your hand and you two went to bed. As you drifted off to sleep your heart was full. You were so glad you took a chance with Jensen. His family was quickly becoming part of yours and you were falling even more in love with him. You closed your eyes with a soft smile on your face and the arms of the man you loved wrapped around you.

Forever tags: @nescaveckdaily @nescaveckwriter @kr804573 @jensengirl83 @k-slla @jackles010378 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[plumulesauvage]

Paradise in Hell 1 : the kidnapping

Genre : Sf, drama, adventure, psychological

Warnings : rude language, swearing, crude parts, men being shot and beheaded, Dementus

Relationships : Furiosa x reader, Dementus x reader, Immortan Joe x reader, Max x reader

Table of contents here

"Come on Fury ! We've come too far !" Whined Valkyrie.

" Oh don't be such a wimp !" Exclaimed Furiosa, looking at a peach, near the girls.

"Be nice with each other ! " Said Valhalla, bored by her two friends bickering. " And hurry Fury ! We shouldn't be here !"

"I know, I know... Let me just...." Continued the mentioned girl, climbing on the peach tree trying to catch one of the fruit without falling.

Valkyrie was watching anxiously, scared of being punished by the mothers for being way too close to the end of the oasis. She was the younger of the three, and while she always followed her two little friends, playing the big girl, she always hated adults scolding them for being too ruthless.

At the same time, one of the other girls, the one named Valhalla, caught a glimpse of what seemed like a horse, and disappeared quietly from the trio, looking for the animal. She was maybe the calmer and quieter of the three. Always following the rules. Always nice with everyone. Always doing as she was told. But, she was also the curious one, a dreamer. Always looking for a distraction. Always looking in a different direction, hearing noises nobody cared about. And, while being well aware of the many dangers of the wastelands, she was also the type to simply not care.

And it quite frequently ended in the same way : Mary scolding the three little girls for exploring the green place too far, ready to touch the sand like there was no danger in the Wastelands. That's why they all had little whistles, to call adults if something bad happened.

But, at the moment, Valhalla didn't care of being "too far" or "too close from the sand". What she cared about was right in front of her : four bikers hunting and killing a horse.

She couldn't believe what she saw. Who were these bikers ? They definitely weren't from the green place, she was sure of it. They were strangers, came here to kill and poison everything. They were enjoying all this suffering they caused to the poor beast. And the young girl couldn't watch it without doing anything. If there was one thing she despised, it was gratuitous violence. Seeing those bastards play with a life was too much for her young and brave heart, and she got way too angry to think before acting.

" HEY ! YOU DICKHEADS ! YOU THINK IT'S FUNNY ?!"

Next thing she knew, the horse wasn't enough of an amusement anymore. Now, she was the prey. And even if she was the kind to bite violently when needed, there was nothing she could do against four grown men and their weapons.

And so, the little Valhalla was assaulted by all those men. She defended bravely, hitting, biting, scratching in the process. The men struggled a little while before finally catching her, and tying her to one of the motorbikes.

" Few !" Exclaimed one of them. "You're quite the savage one ! Almost lost one of my fingers in the process !"

Hearing his ironic tone, the other men laughed, all together.

Valhalla was in fury, hearing those dirty scums talk and act as if nature was just a mere object, here to satisfy their wishes and needs. Just as they were treating her.

Then, they finally killed the horse and began to dismember it. They weren't paying attention to the little girl, now defenseless and as dangerous as a tree. They attached her to one of their bikes with a cheap rope, naively thinking she had no other resources than her energy and teeth. What a mistake.

Barely did they turn their back to her, she was already using a knife she kept as a secret to cut the rope. Slowly but surely, she will be free. Once she will be able to, she will use her whistle, alerting the many mothers of the situation. Or, at least, she thought so.

She suddenly heard a noise behind her. Turning as much as she could, she saw Furiosa gently tiptoeing to the motorbike, cutting all the gas pipe she could on her way.

Their eyes met, and they knew they had to act quick. Unfortunately, as Furiosa approached Valhalla to help her, one of the bikers arrived behind her.

"FURY !"

But it was too late. The men saw the second girl. And as she was trying to escape, using her breath to whistle desperate blows, they caught her.

They tied her right before Valhalla's eyes, before riding their bikes to run away.

___

When Valhalla opened her eyes again, she was met by Furiosa chewing the gas pipe of her driver.

The first didn't recall everything, but she must have been knocked out while trying to shout her position to her mother.

Her head was throbbing from the pain, her vision was blurry and her ears were ringing. She shook her head, trying to regain full consciousness, and when she succeeded, she realized they were moving on the sand. It was night, and there was nothing but a desert of sand surrounding her.

They have been gone for a long time, and they kept moving. As the fear of being kidnapped emerged in her heart, Valhalla heard a strong noise.

This sound. She knew it.

It was the gun of their mother. They were saved ! Mary was gonna save them !

As hope and adrenaline filled her head, she began imitating Furiosa, and chewed her own gas pipe. The rubber was strong and thick under her teeth. And it left a dry and disgusting taste on her tongue. But she didn't care. What she cared about was to make her kidnapper stop before joining his camp. And she was determined to do everything possible, if it meant success.

Mary was focused, breathing slowly as her eyes locked up on her next target.

"BANG"

One biker down. Three left.

It was her fault, she knew it. She knew she should have insisted about not going too far. She knew she should have watched the girl more carefully. But here they were now. With no way to change the past, she could only trail the men down in order to keep the Green Place and her little girls safe.

"BANG"

Tch ! Missed...

She stood up and took her bike with her. It belonged to a man she killed sooner. There was still his blood on it, but she didn't care. What mattered was to get her girls back.

"Shit ! She chewed the pipe ! This little-" Shouted one of the bikers.

Furiosa did it, she cut the pipe and now the motorcycle was off, without any gasoline left.

Valhalla didn't have this chance, her pipe being way too much thicker to be cut with simple teeth.

As the two men were walking around the corpse of their companion (because Mary did kill another one sooner), they were both arguing whether or not it would be useful to keep the girls with them. As they argued, they weren't paying attention to the girls anymore.

Seeing that Furiosa was freeing herself, Valhalla whispered.

"Go... Mommy mustn't be far... You'll catch up to her !"

"But, what about you Valh ?" Asked the other one, still whispering.

"Don't worry about me. Go, now !"

And just like that, Furiosa was running away. But the men soon saw her, and, since they apparently resolved their gas problem, they took their bike, following the little Vuvalini to catch her up again.

Valh, trying to slow them down, bit her driver with all her might, making him cry in pain.

"AOUCH ! What a little fucker ! She bit me ! I'M BLEEDING !"

But his companion was still riding, following the footsteps of the first girl, ignoring the pain of his mate.

And like that, Furiosa was, once again, tied to the bike, head down and feet up, waiting for her mother to help her.

___

"WE DID IT ! WE DID IT ! We finally came back to the camp !" Exclaimed the first driver.

That's the moment Mary chose to shoot one of the two men. She killed Valh's drivers. His bike felt, the little girl with it. She didn't wait another second and began to run behind Furiosa. She wasn't going to run away without her !

And so, she arrived in the camp a little after the bike. While the last man was telling his discovery to all his mates, she surprised them by running as fast as she could, toward the other girl.

As the men we're arguing over who will tell what to whom, Fury and Valh set a trap to the last biker, and hang him up with his own bike. But, as they were about to escape, the other men caught them up. Next thing they knew, they were brought to a giant tent, in the middle of the camp. They both tried to fight and escape, but it was too late for them…

___

“Keep her still !” Demanded a man who seemed like the chief of the bikers. “They already killed enough men for today !” As he was pestering he entered a white tent bigger than the other ones, soon followed by the two girls and their keepers. Inside the tent, people were speaking around a motorcycle which seemed new and flawless. The oldest of them all was apparently explaining the origins and the making of the bike, while the others were listening silently, almost religiously. At the center of the group, looking at the shiny vehicle was a man covered in white. An enigmatic charisma was emanating from him, he had to be their leader. Then, the one who brought the girls, apparently named Rizzdale, interrupted the reunion.

Hearing the ruckus, the leader turned around, looking intrigued by the scene.

“And what do we have here ?” He asked, observing the two little girls, as they were looking at each other quietly.

“They’re from a place of abundance !” The first man explained. He seemed ecstatic just by talking about it. His excitement made his chief smile, eyeing the girls with interest. He made a sign to his men, indicating that there was no need for them to hold the kids anymore. They were just children after all…

“Hello there !” Began the leader, with a joyous tone. “My name is Dementus. Care to tell me who and from where you are ?”

The two girls looked at him curiously and with a hint of disgust before asking silently each other in search of what to say. But none of them spoke. They seemed quite reserved, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Look…. It must have been a hard day for you two… You want to rest, and I understand. So, how about you tell me where you came from so we can all enjoy our evening ?”

But none of them answered. Their silence defying him.

Finally, Rizzdale let the last biker enter the tent, only for Dementus to notice how bad he actually was, his throat slit in two, vomiting his own blood and not able to speak anymore. It was too late for him to tell where the place of abundance was. and it pissed the warlord. He had enough of all that. Being interrupted for two impertinent girls and an almost dead man, gaining nothing else than a headache as a result was not on his bingo card. And he was having none of it. Not today.

“Okay….” He breathed calmly. “You don’t want to talk ? that’s okay ! Go and rest ! We’ll follow the marks tomorrow and we’ll see where you came from !”

He then dismissed them, gesturing his hand towards a woman and two men. He prohibited any men from approaching the girls, then changed the subject as they left the tent.

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Odd Combat 1

Dracule Mihawk x Reader

Word Count: 1,152

Warnings: slight nsfw at the end, blood, violence, bullying (it's buggy I can't help myself)

You gripped the hilts of your dual blades, Mihawk’s sharp eyes staring at you lazily from his beach chair. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? Challenging me to a duel.” He droned, shifting his attention to the wine glass he was swirling in his hand. “You don’t seem to have thought this through. You’re so small to be fighting me, and I duel to the death.”

His arrogance and disrespect engendered hot rage to bloom in your chest. But you knew it was unwise to let it consume you because it would cloud your judgment, so you tamped it down with several deep breaths before responding. “You should know better than anyone not to judge someone on their size. The fight you had with Plembo the Tontatta was legendary.

Sitting to Mihawk’s left, Buggy laughed, “Aw look Mihawk has quite the little fan.”

And sitting to Mihawk’s right, Crocodile growled, “No, no, you don’t talk now,” Reaching behind Mihawk and engulfing the clown’s head in his palm, gently ruffling his blue locks. 

Mihawk and you didn’t acknowledge the other two men, because you carried on your conversation like nothing had happened.

The swordsman scoffed, “Yes, but you are human, and he was a Tontatta…” 

“It doesn’t matter if I’m human or not,” you retorted, “You shouldn’t underestimate me.” 

Mihawk watched you thoughtfully for about a minute before he sighed, “it would be wasteful to kill someone like you, so this won’t be to the death.” He rose to his feet, and pulled the knife out of his cross pendant, “This is the smallest I’ve got, and I’ll let you make the first move.”

While you took a moment to think about your strategy, Buggy mumbled, “Are we really going to let him fight in the guild recreation area?” 

Crocodile retreated to a safe distance, dragging Buggy behind him as he sighed, “leave him, this is apparently just how he makes friends, he was the same with me.”

You grit your teeth together and used soru to launch the first attack, slicing one of your blades straight through his knife like it was butter.

Mihawk jumped backward, avoiding the second blade that you had swung at his head, and landed on unsteady legs. You didn’t make a second move, waiting for him to realize you were worthy of an actual fight. He looked at you with wide eyes, as blood dripped from a cut on his cut where the tip of your sword has grazed him. Mihawk wiped the blood off his cheek, “Perhaps I did underestimate you, my apologies. I won’t make that mistake again.”

He stood up straight and picked up Yoru, the famous black sword, and took up a fighting stance.

After several hours of fighting, the sun had started to dip down below the horizon. The two of you had lost yourselves in the euphoria of combat. Mihawk was grinning ear to ear, it had been a long time since he had had such a thrilling fight. And it was made all the more thrilling when you disarmed Mihawk of Yoru at the cost of one of your own blades. Much to your surprise, Mihawk wasn’t beaten yet. Because he pulled a short sword from the back of his coat and nearly took your leg off with it. You dodged his blow, laughing, “of course, you have more than one blade on you.”

Mihawk didn’t respond, but he did roll his eyes when Crocodile yelled, “he has a literal pirate hoard of just blades, and he also has, like, a hundred pockets in that coat filled just with knives because he has a problem.”

You cock an eyebrow at the tall swordsman in front of you, who was poised to lunge his blade into your chest. Crocodile was right, Mihawk’s coat was lined with barely noticeable pockets, but you could see the outline of a knife or two as it moved with its wearer. You hummed, “well that doesn’t seem fair, let's even the playing field shall we?” Pinching your thumb and forefinger together you made a yanking gesture to activate your devil fruit, the move move fruit, and ripped off his coat. Buggy started to cackle at the small noise Mihawk made when the cool evening air hit his skin. Mihawk stared at his chest, and the remains of his coat, almost morning them. You shifted your stance, and his gaze followed your movement. His eyes narrowed into a harsh glare as he growled, “that was my favorite coat, you will pay for this.”

You took one hand off your blade and shrugged, “Sorry, I’ll pay to have a new one made later.”

Mihawk charged forward, incensed enough to strike while you held your sword in one hand, and knocked it out of your hand. You flipped backward, kicking his blade out of his hand, and kicked off the ground once you landed, launching yourself at his chest. Mihawk fell back with a loud grunt, “what the hell are you doing? It’s a draw, we both disarmed one another.”

You smirked down at him, as you straddled his hips, and chuckled, “I never said I was a swordsman, it was a challenge to a fight. Or are you incapable of fighting without your sword? How cute.”

Mihawk hissed, “you are one of the most frustrating people I have ever met, and I’ve met Straw hat Luffy and Shanks.” He sat up, grabbed your hair, and yanked your head back, making a moan bubble out of your mouth. In retaliation, you grabbed each side of his shirt and pulled it down over his shoulders, sending the buttons flying, and shoved him back to the ground and tried to get a hold of his hands, so you could pin him. During the scuffle you had started to grind against one another, panting as you fought. Mihawk bucked his hips up into you and growled, “I’m going to make sure you regret this.” He managed to get a hold of both of your thumbs, and he flipped you off him and rolled on top of you. Soon as your stomach touched the ground you let out a desperate whine as the ache between your legs because overwhelming without stimulation. Arching your back, you tried to buck him off, but you only managed to rub yourself against him pathetically. Mihawk grabbed a hold of your shirt collar, ripped your shirt in half, and sank his teeth into your shoulder. You gasped as he started to eagerly rut his hip against you. You threw your head back, making contact with his nose, and you managed to roll over before he recovered. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the ground, “Do you yield?”

“Never” you spat and bit his lip.

Mihawk sneered, “well then, look like you’ll have to learn the hard way.” And he pressed his mouth against yours.

Coming Soon

[quinloki]

"I know the Grandline well, no one would find us."

Lucci - Bitter-Sweet

Requestor: Anonymous (⌐■_■) Reader Vibes Requested: AMAB they/them - no pronouns or bodily description was used in the final result. CW: Angst, Amnesia, violence, off-screen character death implied, yandere vibes

The whistle from the train shatters the air and the rain and you step back. Strong arms you couldn’t ever escape on your own let you go as you grab your bag. The sounds of the world devour the apology on your lips before you turn and run to the train.

He didn’t need to hear the words, even if he could over the rain. He didn’t need the knowledge even as he watched Kaku run after you, disregarding everything he’d lived for since he was a child. He didn’t need to know the emotion that spurred you both, even as his body changed and he cleared the platform in his leopard form fast enough to snag the last scrap of railing and pull himself aboard the caboose.

It had been an act of desperation on his part. A decision for your safety, and Kaku’s.

So he told himself.

It wasn’t jealously that had prompted him to put you in harm’s way. It wasn’t his own pacing, stalking, growing, growling desire to have you in his arms that had risked you in such a way. He couldn’t possibly love you, it was lust, pure and simple. An animalistic desire.

A weakness of his devil fruit.

Lucci stepped inside the train after changing back into his human form, and seated himself quietly in an unoccupied corner. He couldn’t follow too close, Kaku would notice. He couldn’t hang back too far, or the ungrateful bastard would live up to his promise and disappear. Not even Lucci could melt into the world the way Kaku could.

But he was ever patient, and now he had more than one thing to take care of. His traitorous comrade, and his own useless desires.

And so he watched.

Waited.

Hunted.

His own claws dug scars into his arms every time he heard your laugh carry on the wind. His gums bled against clenched teeth when he caught sight of your lips against Kaku’s. His desires flared until he saw naught but red and that had been his one mistake.

He had moved in too quickly and set off a wild dash across the island. Even with you in his arms Kaku was like the wind, slipping between trees and underbrush with all the skill of a forest spirit.

There was no amount of speed in his legs that could wipe your scent from existence, and fear splattered your essence about like a luminous path, guiding Lucci as he pushed the limits of his transformation. When he finally caught up with Kaku, the younger man was standing his ground.

Swords drawn.

Your scent was getting further and further away, and Lucci already knew what Kaku had promised you. What sweet words he promised you, saying that he could face Lucci better if he didn’t have to worry about you. He couldn’t defend you and fight Lucci, so if you ran, then he could win.

But you had to run.

Lucci’s sneer turned into a roar as he rushed at Kaku. Without a devil fruit Kaku had no hope. Even if Lucci didn’t use his, the swordsman wasn’t rated as strong as he, and with you as the prize it wouldn’t have mattered.

His lips would never speak your name again. Would never taste the sweet slip of your tongue. He would never lose himself in your eyes again. All these things would belong to him. Should belong to him.

Did belong to him!

-:-

-:- -:-

-:- -:- -:-

-:- -:- -:- -:-

-:- -:- -:-

-:- -:-

-:-

Blood dripped from his fingers as he moved carefully through the wilderness. He paid it no mind, some of it was his, but not enough. He was getting closer to you, he was certain. Everything would be okay once he found you.

Everything would be okay.

The words died on his heart and mind as the trees opened into an abrupt clearing. The edge of the world cut off swiftly afterward, and the edge was freshly crumbled away.

Panic gripped his heart as he looked over the edge.

You were at the bottom of the drop, hand to your head, and looking around blearily. Who knew how quickly you’d reached this point and fallen, or how hurt you were. Bracing, he slides down the embankment, causing you to look up at him.

Relief crosses your face, hand still at the wound on your head, sheepish smile on your lips.

“Oh thank goodness,” you say, cheerfully relieved. “I didn’t know how I was going to get back up.”

He offers his hand and you take it, standing up carefully. There’s deep crimson in the knuckles, but you don’t think anything of it.

“Are you okay?” He questions, concern at the edge of a tired voice, as he moves enough to look into your eyes, making sure your pupils react to what little change in light he can provide.

“I think so… memory’s a little fuzzy though.” You wince a little. “I don’t know how I ended up on a different island. Did Galley-La go on vacation or something? I know this isn’t Water 7, but I can’t seem to remember how I ended up here.”

“… It was… just us.” He says, clearing his throat gruffly. “I had business to attend to, and something more personal as well.”

You blink, surprise scrawled on your face. “You’re… talking?” You look around. “Where’s Hattori?” You ask the question automatically before flinching, feeling a strange heat bubble up in your cheeks. “I mean, your voice is nice, er, I mean, pleasant, I mean-!” You cover your face with your hand. “If you spoke directly like that, the girls at Water 7 would flock to you.”

Lucci kneels down, pulling your hand from your face gently. “Just you,” he says softly, fingers rubbing against your hand. “I’m not going to let you wander off on your own after this. I’m glad you’re not hurt too badly, but we need to get you to the hospital at the port.”

“Y-yeah. Sure.” Lucci turns his back to you as you stammer and motions for you to get on.

“I won’t bite.” He assures you, smiling a little as the nervous laugh bubbles up in your throat before you climb onto his back. “I would like to kiss you, before I did anything quite so intimate.”

You tense, flinching a bit, but there’s no fear in your scent, just a flustered embarrassment. It’s quiet between you both for a long while, as he walks back through the forest, careful to give Kaku a wide-berth.

“… That was… your personal business?” You prompt softly, as the forest gives way and the port town comes into view. “A…um, confession?”

There’s a soft flex of his fingers against your legs, but nothing more. “You’re hurt. Don’t worry about the details right now. I’ll help you remember.”

“So… when I remember… I can kiss you?”

[yuuniee]

🕊️ About: Renée Rose Menken

[🔗]

🏷️ @thehollowwriter @deeva-arud @boopshoops @starry-night-rose @fumikomiyasaki @twsted-princess @twstinginthewind @twst-the-night-away

(lmk if you wanna be untagged!!)

(tw: emotional and physical abuse, killing)

Renée was born into a wealthy family, her mother being a CEO of her own company and her father being a military lieutenant. However, her parents were divorced. From Monday to Thursday, she was with her mom. From Friday to Sunday, she was with her father and brother.

When she was with her mother, she was.. let’s say ‘pushed to perfection’. Her mom would punish her even in the slightest mistake and tell her every day that she was her only hope. She would barely give her any food and would make fun of her for helping the maids with the chores, but would put her in various courses like cooking, playing instruments, karate, chess and many more. Her mother (and younger sister to an extent) always abused her and degraded her. But when she was with her father, brother and the dogs, she was happier than ever.

With her father, she had more freedom of choice. She was well cared for and well fed. She never told the way her dad treated her because she hated it when her papa was mad. To her, he was her biggest hero. His trained dobermans, Rufus and Brutus, also cared about her a lot. They alerted her father when she was in danger, accompanied her in her school road and even waited for her until the bell rang for dismissal. He treated her wounds when she was injured and also showed her how to do first aid, took care of her when she was sick, and also taught her some self defense in case she needed to defend herself.

With her brother, they painted together. Sometimes it was for exchanging ideas, sometimes drawing each other, and sometimes it was just painting random shapes and lines. He taught her that everything can be art if one looks at it with their mind’s eye. They taught her that violence isn’t always the best answer and that words can have a bigger impact than harm, which she already knew thanks to her mother.

With her sister, Aimée, it was more.. complicated. While they used to play together before, it wasn’t until later that her sister began treating Renée the same way as their mother and making her time a bit miserable around their dad’s home, thanks to mommy dearest’s (/sarc) lies. Luckily, she has always been stopped by their dad whenever Aimée misbehaved.

But still, no matter how much loved she felt in her father’s house, she could never get rid of the feeling of being worthless to her mother and always felt a void in her heart that yearned for her mom’s love. Her mom never told her she was proud of her, only gave answers like “As expected.” or “As you should.” She even told her that she would love her if she disappeared from the face of earth which caused that void in her heart to grow bigger.

Growing up, she was a bright child with the best grades in class and was always at the top three in her school. She liked to help others with their work and she was friendly and understanding, but also a bit mature for her age. While other children played together, she was always alone, reading a book or studying for the next class. And since she looked frail, she often passed out, especially in P.E classes. When her parents were called in, her mother usually chose to ignore it while her father was way more understanding and even offered to take her home immediately. While in her mother’s case she was left in the infirmary until she felt better to go to class, in her father’s case he got her a sandwich, some juice, some chocolates or dried fruits, and let her rest as much as she wanted.

One day, the day she turned 16, her mom attempted to marry her off to a man she had never heard of before. But she ran away from there to a train station. Before she could catch the train, a serial killer caught her and killed her by cutting her throat.

Later, she found herself in Twisted Wonderland (she was brought there by Valerie) because she wished for a world where people could like her for who she is behind the mask of ‘perfection’.

In her first year, she was a cold but caring lady. She scolded others when they made a mistake, but also helped them correct it. Back then, she didn’t really have a place to stay, a comfortable room to sleep in or something other than salty crackers to eat. So, she began working in Mostro Lounge as a part-timer and earned some money to eat at the cafeteria. Some people handed her their food, some of them gave her some clothes, and some of them even let her stay in their room. Among the ones that helped her was Fawn, a (now former) honor student who knew the moment she came, that the girl in front of her had been through a lot of terrible things. She let her in her room for the most of the time and soon chatted with her about the things in school. For some reason, she avoided talking about her past which made her more curious. And one day, she asked her;

“...Even when you know I’m from a different world than yours, why are you still helping me? I’ve always been rude to you this entire time... Why are you still friendly to me?”

To which she replied;

“Because I can clearly see from the look in your eyes that you’ve been through a lot in the past... I know it’s hard to open up to somebody, but please understand that you aren’t alone in this world. There are a lot of people who could help you — maybe not get rid of your pain completely, but ease it up at least a little bit. It’s up to you of course, but you are always free to share your pain with me. I’ll help you, lend you an ear and maybe give you some friendly advices...”

To which Renée started breaking down in Fawn’s arms, sobbing on her chest and holding her tightly like she was crying for the first time. The latter obviously comforted her, and they bonded as close as sisters from that point. She also apologized from her and other people repeatedly because she’s been really awful to a lot of people too. Most of them chose to forgive her while some don’t. Also, Fawn was the first one to help her control her Unique Magic when she discovered it for the first time.

In her second year (current year), she’s a lot more open, can show kindness but often gets a bit shy when meeting with strangers. She often walks around with a smile and chats with others even if she’s not the one to start a conversation for the most of the time. She helps everyone around her when they need it, but sometimes ends up overworking herself and thinks she’ll be worthless if she doesn’t do her tasks. She even keeps the misbehaving students in check with her hair.

[pocketramblr]

How about 5 headcanons for a duoholders Snow White AU? Yoichi as Snow White, All for One as the evil queen, Second as the prince, and the other holders as the seven dwarves. Thank you!

1- as it happens, Yoichi is the fairest young man in the kingdom. This is irrelevant because AfO doesn't care about looks, having risen from a gutter rat to the throne by incredible violence and so much magic theft, but it is something to know. Anyway one day AfO tells his magic mirror that he must be so strong that he doesn't have any weaknesses. The mirror says he only has a few, but he is very strong. AfO asks what they are.

"Your largest weakness is your brother, in basically every way. Then, your habit of vague orders just because the thrill of what people are willing to do for you is sometimes fun."

2- AfO has already stopped listening, wondering how Yoichi could be his weakness, when he never listens to his bad ideas anyway and keeps him safe in the castle. The mirror starts to explain that there's actually a plan right now to steal Yoichi away from the castle that night- and the operatives already have an in.

3- AfO leaves, calling for Gigantomachia, ranting about the mirror saying Yoichi was his weakness and that his loyal guard was to take Yoichi into the mountain woods and take care of him while AfO figures out the planned attack. Yoichi is confused when Giga shows up in his room when he hasn't even started the latest escape attempt, and it gets worse when he's dragged out to the woods. Giga finally stops and Yoichi collapses, asking if Gigantomachia is supposed to take care of him, as in keep him safe, or take care of him, as in finish him off and hide the body. Giga admits he's not sure, because it's used both ways, and the next that it's Yoichi makes it more likely the first, except the fact that it's the middle of nowhere makes it more likely the second. Yoichi says that it'd be bad for Gigantomachia if he mixed it up and was hurt for his mistake, and he hates it when his brother hurts people, so maybe he should leave Yoichi there and go back to check which one it was? Giga is wary, even if he didn't catch the prince in the middle of an escape attempt this time, but decides that hiding Yoichi in a tree and tying him there so he can't leave will work. Then Giga leaves.

4- Yoichi does his best to get down, and fails. Then he hears people in the woods- it's Kudo and seven others. He calls to them for help. Kudo goes to the tree and asks how he got there, but Hikage stops him and says that's the prince, left there by the king's giant guard. He was in the woods, watching stealthily, when it happened. Kudo is suspicious and asks why he's there or if this is a trap, and Yoichi says his brother wouldn't put him in a trap like this. Kudo, who was on his way to the castle with his rebellion to take out the prince, the king's most obvious weakness, figures this is good enough, climbs up, unties him, and helps him down. Yoichi is then willingly kidnapped to their headquarters, hidden near the old mines.

5- unfortunately, AfO still has a magic mirror. Yoichi warns them about it, but they decide to take the risk to keep him, since their home is warded against the king. And for several months, they're safe... Until one day, Yoichi was left at home with just the young teen Toshi and little kid Izuku, and someone came near, a very lost merchant with beautiful fruit in a basket. The merchant's face was weathered and his hair wild, clothes torn, movement jerky. Toshi hides Izuku behind his legs as Yoichi asks how the merchant got there, he explains he got lost in the nasty storm last night- and been lost for days since. Yoichi buys the apples for a lot of money to help the merchant get back, and on taking a bite, collapses. The merchant cackles that his plan to steal the body of that traitor Shimura's relative worked to get around the wards, and now he'll take his brother back- and since Yoichi's mouth was what let him escape last time, and when he's asleep he can't escape or talk! Toshi attacks, and does well, but can't win- when the smoke settles, Izuku has long since dragged Yoichi hidden under the bushes, and Toshi, injured, is dragged off by the angry AfO.

+1- Kudo and the others return to the scene of carnage, and Nana hears crying that leads them to Izuku and Yoichi, who seems dead. Izuku explains what happened. Kudo checks for any breathing, while Bruce checks for a pulse. Nothing- but Bruce knows it's been hours, and Yoichi's body isn't cold or rigid. So he starts chest compressions, and the bit of apple in his throat is unlogged. Yoichi blinks his eyes open just as Kudo leans down to put his mouth on his. Yoichi is confused, but he's been trying to get an idea of if Kudo likes his back for a while, and this is finally clear! Then he shoves Kudo back, asking where the weird merchant and Toshi are. It's time for a rescue mission! And then,,, more kisses,,,

[esyra]

You have so much grace and compassion. Even amid this firestorm of grief and helplessness and dehumanization and hatred you find love and care in your heart for Jews and Israelis. At first, when people ask where Israelis are supposed to go, I swallowed my anger and tried to draw analogies to the ending of the South African apartheid and Irish independence and even the Landback Movement that asks only for sovereignty over their lands and not expulsion of settlers. But now the question just fills me with corrosive hatred. It's the height of privileged self-involvement to ask that of Palestinians while they murder your families wholesale. Being surrounded by this kind of murderous racism that justifies the slaughter of children has eroded every bit of compassion and patience in me; sometimes I just want someone to drop a nuke on the whole damn country like the USAmericans still boast of having done to Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

But you, alone and broken hearted with the suffering of your family in your ears and nightmares, constantly attacked by these monsters— you still manage to not let your rage and pain consume you. You build a temple of calm and compassion amid a sea of loss and chaos. I swear I have never seen so much grace and faith and perseverance as in the Palestinian people; you hold your defiance and truth and faith like beacons above you as fire and death rain down from the skies. I don't believe in God but I can't help but feel as though you all must be touched by some holy light, and that all the world's liberation is tied up in yours, that a soil so drenched in the blood of martyrs must be consecrated, no matter how much those demons try to scorch it clean.

I wasn't going to publish this because it's part of the asks I'm keeping to myself, but as we enter the 40th day of war and telecommunications are either too scarce or completely cut off, I'm putting these beautiful words out there for any Palestinian that needs to hear it:

I swear I have never seen so much grace and faith and perseverance as in the Palestinian people; you hold your defiance and truth and faith like beacons above you as fire and death rain down from the skies. I don't believe in God but I can't help but feel as though you all must be touched by some holy light, and that all the world's liberation is tied up in yours, that a soil so drenched in the blood of martyrs must be consecrated, no matter how much those demons try to scorch it clean.

Let no one mistake us for war or violence, for the spoiled poisonous fruit. Palestinians were born from beauty, and to beauty we will return.