#me: yeah the whump is my heart thinking about torino in a corset 😎

[shih-coulda-had-it]

FEBUWHUMP DAY TEN | DIFFICULTY BREATHING | wc: 600

>:3c

//

The blurry sight of All for One’s upside-down smug face is unfortunately the first thing Sorahiko sees when he wakes, but it’s not the first thing he registers. No, the first thing Sorahiko processes past the lingering haze of sedation is the shortness of his breath. His lungs are working double-time, even though he must have spent the past few hours in a deep sleep.

“Hello there,” says All for One warmly.

“What,” says Sorahiko, uncomprehending. The dots are slow to connect, but connect they do. If his head is being pillowed on All for One’s stomach, then his shoulders are braced against the bastard’s lap, and further down… Sorahiko’s brain crabs up to speed, and instinctively, he tries to burst out of the position with Jet.

His ribs ache. 

“Careful,” All for One chides, grabbing the flailing hands and pinning them high and to the side, forcing Sorahiko to arch his back and gasp. Covetous red eyes curve in a slight smile. “You make a lovely picture, Sorahiko, but I’m afraid I must insist on having you not faint right away.”

“You piece of shit,” he wheezes. “You--you son of a bitch--”

“A better reaction than to the collar, I suppose.”

Sorahiko attempts to jack-knife his way free, but All for One only reacts by hauling his body up closer. The last futile heave leaves Sorahiko totally breathless; he barely has enough energy to squirm, to see if the black corset will go slick with sweat and slide below his ribs. No dice.

All for One didn’t even have the decency to lace the damn thing over an undershirt. The unforgiving material digs into pale flesh without mercy, and his stomach is on the verge of turning over on itself. Perhaps the only thing saving Sorahiko from blacking out entirely is the comforting thought that All for One’s left his threadbare flannel pants alone.

“Get this off me.”.

“In due time.”

“Now.”

He pretends to be dismayed. “My dear, I’ve spent so much effort planning this evening! Why, ever since I heard from a little bird that you wanted to shut down the trafficking ring here, stalled only by a lack of knowledge of who, specifically, was running what… Well, I had to offer my help.”

“And why,” Sorahiko grounds out, “does that need me wearing restrictive lingerie?”

“The answer is two-fold.”

“Pretty sure it boils down to, ‘I’m a perverted opportunist.’”

In response, All for One tugs one of Sorahiko’s hands over and lightly kisses the whitened knuckles. Absolutely not, an inner voice shrieks, recoiling from the gentle, poisonous touch. Sorahiko digs his heels against cool white sheets and forces himself to focus on the unasked-for garment. On the unasked-for assistance regarding the Nā Shadā ringleaders.

“Is it so much to give up?” All for One asks innocently. “Information is priceless. You won’t have to worry about anything except gathering names and faces, because I can take care of the rest. Honestly, my dear, this is as strong as a cover you’ll get.”

“I quit playing arm-candy years ago,” Sorahiko snaps.

“The role hasn’t changed much.”

“If that’s true, then I don’t have to be wearing--”

“The corset is non-negotiable,” says All for One in a lofty manner. “Color and design, of course, we can discuss. I’ve invested in several sets.” He rubs his jaw over Sorahiko’s head in some pantomime of a nuzzle. “You’re a flight risk without collateral, Gran Torino. And you won’t have to wear it long. The next auction is sooner than you’d think.”

Sorahiko pictures tearing out the man’s throat with his teeth.