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heyimkana · 1 year ago

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24 Hours with You (Satoru Ver.) - Ep. 1

Series Masterlist Chapter Summary: The first episode of a mini-series where you’ll live through the hours you spend together with your husband, Gojo Satoru. Pairings: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader Genre: Domestic AU, Fluff, Romance, Smut, Humor Word Count: 8K Warnings: whipped, clingy husband!Satoru, sassy!Y/N, shoujo manga inspired backstory, endless sex jokes, and overall cavity-inducing fluff with a little bit of smut at the end (no actual sex scenes...yet)

Episode 1: Morning

06.02 AM

Your very much-needed sleep abruptly comes to an end the moment your husband’s alarm—not yours—begins to ring, his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to his side. You try to ignore it. You really do. After all, he just let you go to sleep three hours ago.

Granted, yesterday was Valentine’s Day and there was no way someone as insatiable as Gojo Satoru was going to end it with just one or two rounds of normal sex, especially not after he went out of his way, spending hundreds of bucks to buy you a set of lingerie that he’d been dying to see. He made sure to dress you up (you’re his favorite doll after all), his grin plastered ever so cheekily on his face. He held his phone steady in one hand, recording the way you not-so-gracefully stepped outside the bathroom in your new lingerie, dying out of shame because—“What the hell did you buy me?!” Which he casually replied with, “A bunny suit. Now turn around and let me see your tail.” To be honest, that wasn’t even the worst part.

(The worst part was when he said, “Now is my little bunny hungry for some carrots? ‘Cause I got a real nice and big carrot for you right over he—” He didn’t get to finish his line. You punched him.)

The alarm continues to ring, playing a song that you grow to hate more and more each day. “Ugh, turn it off.”

Satoru doesn’t even stir in his sleep, which comes as no surprise. He’s still lying flat on his stomach, facing you with his cheek drowning in the comfort of his pillow. He looks peaceful. Innocent. Even when his parted lips are still somewhat smeared with the color of your lipstick. And he’s drooling—in an adorable way, of course.

“Satoru.” You nudge his shoulder. “Sa. To. Ru.”

No reaction. It’s like talking to a dead cow. You groan, your upper body pressing against his backside as you reach out to snatch his phone from the nightstand. With bleary eyes, you turn off his alarm before returning it to the table. You fall back to the side of your bed, flinching as your body still feels sore from last night.

A smile forms on your face. Finally, it’s quiet again.

You still have two more hours before you have to leave for work. I can still sleep for one hou—

The alarm starts again, playing the same damn song.

Of course. How could you forget? Satoru’s the type who sets his alarm every ten minutes just because he’ll totally ignore the first fifteen times. Are you really this tired to not remember this? Yeah, probably.

You pull your blanket over your head. Maybe you can just pay no attention to it like your husband.

Just ignore it, ignore it, ignore it.

Yeah, you can’t.

You toss away your blanket, frustrated. “Satoru, turn it off!”

Finally, the devil wakes up. He moans, his voice husky and heavy with sleep, sounding so effortlessly sexy but you’re just too irritated to acknowledge it that way. “What’s up with the loud noise..?” Sinking back into his pillow and tugging his bedcover up until it reaches his ear, he mumbles, “Honey, I’m still sleepy… Let’s fuck some other time…”

“Oh, we’ll fuck never if you don’t wake up and turn that damn thing off.”

“It’s your alarm.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes.”

“Toru, it’s literally Hatsune Miku playing.”

He giggles, still with his eyes closed. “I love Hatsune Miku.”

“Oh, for God’s sake.” You repeat your motions, basically throwing yourself over him so you can reach his nightstand. Satoru lets out a little oof under your weight, groaning. “Babe, what—” You turn a deaf ear to him, making sure to sink your elbow into his back because he deserves it. Once you get his phone in your hand, you switch it off—the phone, not the alarm. “There. Done.” You slap back his device to the table. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You’re about to jump back to your side when a pair of strong arms tangle themselves around your waist, pulling you down until you land face-first on his bare chest. “I don’t think so, pumpkin,” he simpers, nuzzling the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck. Suddenly, he’s as bright as daylight. “I can’t believe you’re being so aggressive this morning. Did we not do it enough last night?” He puckers his lips, baby-talking you when he says, “Is my little baby bunny still hungry for her carrot?”

“Satoru, I’ll say this as nicely as I can. Release me now or there will be blood.”

“How is that nice?” He pouts, jutting out his lower lip. He’s hitting thirty and he still thinks he’s adorable when he does that (he is, actually, but let’s not tell him that).

Now, boyfriend Satoru would have insisted on holding you close, but husband Satoru? Oh, husband Satoru has gone through some pain. He knows better not to test you. He releases you with a sigh, his eyes drooping like a sad puppy as he watches you crawl back to your spot. “You’re so mean.”

“You love me that way.”

The corners of his lips twitch up again. “That I do.”

Satoru turns around to his side, gazing at you with the bottom half of his face concealed by the blanket he shared with you. He doesn’t really tell this often, but he loves seeing you in the morning like this. That silky nightgown. Those kiss marks on your neck and shoulders. The way your hair is so messy from all the tugging and pulling he did last night. You’re his masterpiece.

“What?” You ask, unable to sleep with how he glues his eyes on you.

“Nothing,” he smiles to himself. “You’re so pretty.”

At this hour? “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true!”

“Well, thank you for the praise, my dear husband, but complimenting me isn’t going to make me give you a blow job at six in the morning, so can you stop staring and let me sleep? I have work in two hours. One hour and a half now ‘cause you keep on yapping at me.”

To anyone else, you would sound vicious, but like you said so yourself, this is why he loves you. To Satoru, you look the prettiest when you’re annoyed, especially when you’re annoyed because of him. It makes him feel special in such a weird way. Having spent all his life being objectified by women—and men—for his looks, and treated with endless flattery because he came from a prestigious family, you, with your feisty attitude, appeared in his world like a breath of fresh air.

(Or maybe he’s just a masochist.)

With lips curving in joy, he pokes your cheek. “Babe, babe.”

“Go to sleep, damn it.”

“I will after you answer my question.”

“Just one?”

“Just one. Promise.”

“Fine. What?”

“Do you remember when we first met?”

You open your lids, staring flatly at the ceiling above you. This dumbass is really trying to play his nostalgia card at six in the morning. You take a glance at him from the corner of your eye. He has stars in his eyes. Great. You know he’s expecting a long answer but it’s too fucking early for this. “Yes.”

“You do?” He props himself up on his elbows, his voice a pitch higher. He’s basically sparkling, giddy with excitement. “What was it like for you? What did you think about me? Did you like me from the very first start? Did the world freeze when your eyes met mine? Hehe, I bet you had a massive crush on me~ I see you’re not saying anything so is it true? You totally did, didn’t you? Oh my God, baby, that’s so cute!”

You just lie there on the bed, half-dead, half-deaf, zero energy and he keeps prattling in your ear. “You’re really not gonna let me go back to sleep, huh?”

“Nope,” Satoru replies, making sure to smack his lips in case he wasn’t irritating enough. “Hey, hey, answer me, answer me.”

Somebody kill me, please. “Okay, fine, you wanna know the truth? I used to hate your guts.”

“Eeeeeeeeh?”

“Don’t eeeeeeh me.” You pinch his cheek, ruining his pretty pout. “We couldn’t stand each other during high school, remember?”

“I never hated you, though?” He’s sliding his arms under his pillow, hugging it close as he peers at you with a twinkle in his eyes. “I’ve always found you cute,” he confesses, followed by a girly squeal. Satoru buries his face in the pillow, his legs flapping against the bed. “Aaaaah~ Saying it out loud like that is so embarrassing~”

“I’m gonna punch you.”

“No, seriously. You’ve never heard me saying I hated you, have you? And you know me. I hold my grudges. If I hated you, I would’ve made your life a living hell. But I didn’t, right?” He takes your hand, his thumb gliding across your knuckles before he replaces it with his lips. “I made you the happiest woman in the world instead.”

“With your money.”

“With my love,” he corrects you, flicking your nose. “Do me a favor and try to remember the first time we met. Didn’t I show you enough how much I liked you?”

The first time we met?

Okay, a little flashback.The first time you met him, it felt like you were living the life of a shoujo manga protagonist. Remember all those corny stories you read back in middle school? When character A—a female lead who was so clumsy, it was a wonder she survived the whole trip to school—met character B—the handsome male lead who seemed aloof and mysterious but turned out to be nothing but a warmhearted kid with a traumatizing backstory—in front of the school’s gate where they exchanged long stares filled with yearning and affection even though they just met? It always happened in the spring, for some reason, at the beginning of a new term. There were cherry blossom petals fluttering in the background, the words thump thump and syalala~ scattered all over the page among her inner monologue that went something like, “What a handsome boy… He looks like Prince Charming… And he has such long eyelashes too… Oh no, what is this feeling? Calm down, my heart! At this rate, he’s going to hear it!” Remember those corny lines? Yeah, well, your story went down just about the same.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt!”

“You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW I’M WEARING POLKA-DOT PANTIES?!”

Okay, maybe your story didn’t go exactly the same. But it’s true that you first met him in the spring, at the beginning of the school’s term. There were no cherry blossom trees swaying in the background because God hated you and He wasn’t that fond of adding pretty things into your life. Gojo Satoru was pretty, sure, but only until he started yapping. And knowing Satoru, he’s always yapping.

You had promised yourself earlier that day that you’d do better. Be better. No more running late to school, no more procrastinating on your homework, and maybe even try to socialize more with people (you shuddered at the thought). You didn’t wake up late that morning, and you went to school just on time but there was a car accident on your way there, forcing you to take a detour, so—

“I hate my life,” you grumbled to yourself, staring tiredly at your high school’s gate in your fresh uniform that was no longer as crisp and tidy as it was from all the running you did. The huge wrought iron gate was closed and locked. The students were already sitting in rows inside the hall, sleeping through your principal’s morning greeting. You had your bag slinging on one shoulder, your short, pleated skirt swaying as it was kissed by the wind. Your hair was sticking uncomfortably to your skin, glued by your sweat. So much for wanting to keep perfect attendance, you thought. This is the worst.

Little did you know that God in heaven was like, “Worst? Oh, honey, I’m just getting started.”

Because there he was, a devil sent from the deepest pit of hell. Your ‘Prince Charming’, walking out of a fancy black car and kicking the door closed without even thanking the poor driver. Gorgeous silver hair. Electric blue eyes. Piercing in his right ear and a bubblegum lollipop in his mouth.

Gojo Satoru.

He was a second-year student just like you but that was all you had in common. He was popular, so popular, and you didn’t have to think long to figure out why. He was a prodigy, excelling in both sports and academics, never failing to rank first in every exam, and it was so exasperating because he never seemed to pay attention to any of his classes. He was just born smart. And rich. Always carrying the new iPhone, never wearing the same outfit when he traveled outside. His Instagram was filled with photos of him taking trips to Greece and outer space (not true). His socks were made of rare breed silkworm’s saliva and his shirts were ironed by a dozen crying maidens (also not true). Apparently, his father was this big CEO who worked really closely with the government so you often heard his family name mentioned on TV. And, to top it all, he was handsome. Like unbelievably handsome. Even you had to admit that. Ridiculously tall, naughty smirk, pretty voice. He was the boy that Taylor Swift would make a whole album about.

Lucky bitch.

“I know,” Satoru said, noticing the way you were staring at him as he walked closer to your spot. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth, gazing down at you (because, again, he was as tall as a tree) with one corner of his lips raised higher than the other. “I’m handsome.”

You weren’t exactly staring at him because he was handsome—okay, yeah, maybe you did. A little. “You’re late too?”

You had never interacted with him before and you were 99.9% sure he didn’t know your name, so maybe you should’ve started by introducing yourself to him. Or telling him not to be so cocky ‘cause who the hell started a conversation like that?

“Yep.” He plopped his lollipop back into his mouth, coloring his tongue blue. “But unlike you, I chose to be late. Needed my beauty sleep, you see, but you get that.” He stretched out both hands in the air, cracking his neck. A little strip of perfect fair skin was shown above his belt but you looked away, clearing your throat.

“So,” he yawned. “Are you going to climb first or should I?”

“What?”

“The gate, genius.”

“You want me to climb up the gate?”

“How else are you planning to go inside?”

“Well, true, but…” You looked around. Your usual school guard was nowhere in sight. Yes, the gate was quite high and you could hurt yourself making your way down but he could lend you a hand, right? It would be easy. You could stealthily slip yourself into the student’s hall after that. No one would notice. There would be no problem.

Well, aside from one thing.

“What are you panicking about? Just climb up and jump.”

“I can’t climb—I’m wearing a skirt.”

Satoru arched an eyebrow before he chuckled. “You’re worried that I’ll see your panties? Honey, please, I’m a gentleman. I won’t stare. Plus, polka-dot panties aren’t my thing.”

You blanched. “How do you know I’m wearing polka-dot panties?!”

“Oh, I got it right?” He rolled his lollipop to the side of his mouth for the sake of putting his annoying smile on display. “I must be a psychic or something. On top of my good-looking face? God really does have His favorite, huh?”

“Probably 'cause He feels sorry for giving you such a shitty personality.”

His jaw dropped. He knew he had a shitty personality but he thought girls loved that about him. “Well, aren’t you feisty,” he muttered, and you were worried for a split second that you might have upset him—not that you cared about his feelings specifically, you just didn’t want to jeopardize your connection with him (He was rich, okay? It would be great for your future career if you were friends with someone like him). But then, Satoru stuck his hands inside the pockets of his pants, leaning close with his lips pulled back in a cheeky grin. “You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Wanna go on a date?”

Oh, that did it. Those little chances of you having a crush on him? Gone. “Gross.”

“Ouch, okay, that actually hurts,” he pouted, rubbing the center of his chest where you just shoved him. After taking a moment to examine your face—you really did look like you wanted to kill him—Satoru gave up with a sigh, shrugging. “Well, whatever. I’m going in.” He pivoted on his heels, making his way toward the gate. “I’ll see you never, Polky.”

“Wait!”

He clicked on his tongue, turning around to say, “Yell louder, will ya? Our school’s guard is practically deaf but I’m sure people in China would love to hear what you have to say.”

“You’re annoyingly talkative.”

“Part of my charm,” he replied. “I feel bad for you for not seeing it, honestly. Now, what is it? First period’s about to start.”

You thought about it, your eyes flying back toward the double-door gate that was attached to the compound wall. It looked sturdy enough to maintain both of your weights. If you made the jump, you’d still have the chance of being the perfect student for the rest of the semester. But did you really want to ask for his help? He was definitely not going to let it go if that was the case. Oh, you knew he was going to be so annoying about it.

“Any day now, cupcake.”

Yeah, I’m not doing it. You weren’t the type who was so against swallowing your pride if the circumstances demanded you to, but if it involved him? You’d rather die. “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll just go home.”

“What?” He knitted his eyebrows, watching you spin around on your heels. You were truly a piece of work, huh? So stubborn to admit that you needed his help. Throwing back his head and groaning dramatically, he exclaimed, “Ugh, fine. Just give me your bag.”

“What—Hey!”

With nimble hands, Satoru managed to snatch it away before you could let the thought sink through. He carried it with one hand, not stopping under your command. You chased after him, and you were so close to getting it back before he flung your bag to the other side of the gate—and so carelessly, mind you.

You watched it land on the ground in horror. “Are you crazy?! I got my iPad in there!”

“Whoops,” he grinned, clearly didn’t feel sorry in the slightest. “Okay, your turn, Princess. Come on, I’ll give you a lift.”

Ugh, why is this happening to me? Left with no choice, you made your way to him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He bent his body forward, exaggerating a bow. “I meant, it is now your turn, oh her Royal Highness of the Democratic Republic of Polkaland—”

You pushed him down by the shoulders. “Shut up and get down on your knees.”

“Oooh, so demanding~” he cooed, but his flirty tone vanished instantly the moment he felt your foot stepping on his shoulder. “Whoa, wait—dude, your shoes!”

Okay, that was your bad. Should’ve taken them off before you did that. Now his black blazer was painted with soil. “Sorry,” you winced. “I’ll help you clean later.”

“Yeah, yeah. You weigh like a ton, by the way.” Oh, you know what? He deserved it. Actually, he deserved more dirt. “Are you rubbing your soles on me?” He gasped.

“You wanted clean shoes, right?”

“Not by using me!”

You ignore him, curling your fingers around the iron bars. “I’m going up. Promise me you won’t look.”

Satoru sighed. “Like I said, I’m not interested in seeing your—aw, aw, aw, aw!” Tears emerged in his eyes. Not only were you stepping on him, you were also using his head to maintain your balance, gripping his strands a little too tightly when you felt that you were seconds away from slipping. “Fuck—Stop pulling on my hair!”

“I’m trying not to fall!” You regained your balance. Feeling a bit sorry, you placed both hands on the bars, gripping them firmly as you stood on his shoulders. You stretched out one arm, fingers clawing against the iron as you tried to reach the top. You got it. Now, all you needed to do was pull yourself up.

On the count of three. One… Two… Three… Pull!

Eh?

“What now?” Gojo asked, his patience wearing thin. His shoulders were throbbing in pain. You weren’t actually that heavy for him. It was the way you were stepping on him, treating him like mud that’s the issue.

You felt your cheeks growing hot, your voice reduced to whispers when you answered, “I can’t do it.”

“What?”

“I can’t pull myself up, okay?!” You yelled in shame. You had calculated everything except for the part where you barely had any muscles in your arms to carry your own weight. “I’m too weak!”

“And you couldn’t have thought about that before you used me as your doormat?!”

“See, this is why I told you I was going home!”

“But your bag is over there—”

“WHOSE FAULT DO YOU THINK THAT IS?!”

Oh, both of you were giving each other headaches for sure. “Okay, let’s try another plan,” Satoru said. “I’ll go first and I’ll pull you up.”

“Can you? You’re built like a twig and you said I weighed a ton.”

“It was a joke, Polky, lighten up. And excuse me, I have muscles, all right? You just can’t tell underneath all these clothes I’m wearing.”

“It was a joke, Twiggy, lighten up.”

“Oh, you little—”

“Enough, we don’t have much time.” You climbed down his shoulders, exhaling in relief once you were back on the ground. “Want me to give you a push?”

“As much as I would loveto use you as my doormat, I got this.” He brushed the dirt off his shoulder and tossed his lollipop to the nearest bin. “You just stand there and look pretty,” he winked. “And try not to fall in love with me too fast.”

Before you could land a kick to his shin, Satoru made his leap, making it look so easy that it almost convinced you to give it another go. He sat down on the top rail—thank God, this gate didn’t have any finials—with his legs settled on both sides to maintain his balance. He took a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure you were alone before he tossed his own bag to the ground. “Okay, I think we’re safe.”

Satoru returned his attention to you, and for a moment, you exchanged stares. “What?” You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. He just grinned, flashing his teeth and you knew he was up to something again. “No,” you mumbled out as realization dawned on you. “You’re going to leave me here?!”

“Abandoning my princess? Of course not.” His eyes glinted with mischief. “Say that you’ll go on a date with me and I’ll pull you up.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Am not.”

“I don’t even know you.”

“Well, this is your chance to get to know me,” he smirked. “Come on, just one date. I’ll take you somewhere fancy.”

“Not interested.”

His smile slowly began to fade the more you rejected him. “You’re seriously saying no?”

“Want to hear it in German? Nee.”

“That’s Dutch.”

“Whatever.”

Satoru took a moment to himself, both confused and baffled (and a bit amused, actually). But surely, no one would reject the Gojo Satoru, right? Yet, there you were, glaring at him as you said so. “Huh,” he poked his tongue against his cheek. You weren’t sure whether he found you vexing or even more… interesting. He accepted his defeat with a heavy exhale, just for now. “Fine. Call me Your Majesty then. If you do it cutely, maybe I’ll pull you up.”

“Oh my God, why are you suchan ass, Satoru?”

“Oh, the princess knows my name!” He claimed in delight, already forgetting the shame from your rejection. “It’s about time you tell me yours.”

“Yes, it’s Miss Fuck Off from Class B. Now, give me your hand and pull me up!”

“Say the magic word then.”

Oh, this isn’t worth it. This is so not worth it. “Fine,” you said, and to his surprise, you whirled around and walked away.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” His smirk faltered. “What about your bag, Sweetheart?”

You didn’t bother to look back. “I don’t care. I’ll get it tomorrow.”

“That’s stupid!”

“I’d feel stupider if I had to kiss your ass.”

“Would you prefer to kiss my lips instead?”

“Goodbye!”

You stomped away. For a couple of seconds, there was silence, and you thought, oh, I actually managed to shut him up. You mentally gave yourself a pat on the back. You might not have your bag with you. Or your wallet. Or your phone. And if you were really planning to go home like this then you’d have to walk for five blocks, but! At least you got to leave him speechless. That was quite an achievement, wasn’t it?

“If you come with me I’ll pay for your iPad!”

You’re back at the gate. “Would you be so kind as to lend me a hand, your majesty?”

Satoru laughed. A genuine laugh actually came out from the devil’s mouth. It almost felt strange. Somewhere deep down, you imagined that he’d have a creepy laugh, or maybe even maniacal. But no. His laugh was so, so adorable. So boyish. So…heartwarming. It was the kind of laughter that would make you smile even when you were clueless of what he was laughing about.

“You’re funny, I like you,” he said, sending tingles to your cheeks which turned you completely into the typical shoujo manga protagonist.

Eew, what the fuck, did my heart just skip a beat? Gross.

Congratulations. You just had your first shoujo manga-worthy inner monologue.

Satoru extended his hand. “You better hold tight, Princess.”

“If you let go, I’ll kill you.”

“I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” Another smile, and there it was again. Your heart doing things inside your chest. You tried to find some excuse, blaming all of this on his looks.

Satoru pulled you up, holding you securely yet so gently by the waist once you reached the top rail. He held you close, noticing how you were shaking a little bit when you felt the fence rattle underneath your weight. This is strong enough to hold us both, right? You couldn’t help but worry. When you were finally sure you were fine, you began to notice the pleasant, intoxicating smell lingering on the little space between you. His scent… It was wonderful—sumptuous and warm, and you figured, that described him perfectly as a person. A mix of cedar woods and cypress, with a bit of sweetness to it. It almost reminded you of—

“The Last Day of Summer.”

You blinked twice. “Huh?”

“My perfume,” he smirked. “The Last Day of Summer by Gucci. You like it?”

“What—no,” you scoffed. “I didn’t even notice it. You smell like sweat.”

“Is that so?” He was definitely not buying your bluff, but he played along, just for a moment. Satoru leaned in, his right hand moving from the dip of your waist to your wrist, his fingers covering yours. You could feel the tips of his strands tickling your cheek, your body freezing up the moment his breath grazed your neck. You found yourself holding your own, your eyes closing shut when he took a sniff at you.

Wait. Sniff?

Satoru pulled away, scrunching up his nose. “I think that’s you, Polky. Did you miss your shower this morning or what?”

“I will push you.”

“Aaw, but then who’ll help you get back down?” He tugged you toward him, his face hovering just a few inches above yours. He tapped his finger against your nose, matching the words he said, “Not. So. Smart. Are you, baby?”

“You—”

“HEY! YOU TWO!”

The thundering voice of a man caused you both to flinch. Your gym teacher—Yaga Masamichi—was there, probably glaring from behind his sunglasses and fuming in his sweaty track pants. “What are you doing?! It’s your first day and you’re sneaking out already?!”

“Interesting point,” Satoru answered, unbothered. “We’re actually planning to sneak in.”

“Teacher’s office. Now.” He didn’t have the patience—or maybe the time?—to stay and lecture you both. He walked away, grousing under his breath.

You let out a heavy sigh. It was only ten in the morning and you already felt so tired. Unlike you, Satoru was still brimming with energy. If anything, he seemed even cheerier than before. “Well, it sucks that we got caught but we had fun, right?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Okay, Miss Grumpy.” He so casually ruffled your hair as if you had been friends for years. “I’ll go first.” He hopped off the fence, landing back on earth almost as gracefully as a cat. You wished you could follow his lead but from that height? You weren’t so confident. “It’s all right, Princess,” he said, noticing your worry. “I’ll be here to catch you.”

That was actually one of your concerns. Not because he didn’t seem like he’d be capable of doing so, but more of what would come after he caught you.

You’d be… in his arms, right? And then what?

Fuck, it’s just Satoru. You didn’t even care about him until now. Just jump.

So, you did. Without thinking too much about it, you removed your hands from the railing, but you didn’t jump toward him as you were too stubborn—and embarrassed—to do so. The chance of killing yourself over this was close to zero, right? You’d be fine.

You could feel your feet touching the ground. You were okay. Or at least, you thought you were. Your shoes, unfortunately, weren’t made to do such a reckless stunt. Your soles were too slippery, and like stepping on ice, you lost your footing, your eyes burned by the blazing sunlight as you felt gravity pull you down.

Until a pair of arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“For God’s sake,” Satoru said, and you felt his words reverberating from his chest since you had your face pressed against it. He sighed, removing one hand from your hips to cup the back of your head. “You should’ve jumped towards me, you idiot.” You could feel his long fingers slipping between your locks, forgetting to breathe air into your lungs when he pulled away, gazing at you solemnly. “Look, it’s cute to be stubborn and not want to ask for my help, but what would you do if you got hurt?”

It’s corny to say this (actually, everything that had happened in the last fifteen minutes was corny. You weren’t sure why your life—and yourself—had turned into this state. You were doing okay before he showed up in your life.) but you were lost in his gaze. The sky above you was brilliant blue, so breathtaking as it was painted by God Himself, and yet… When you compared that to his eyes...

They’re so pretty… He has such long eyelashes too…

(You have got to stop reading shoujo manga. Seriously. Maybe head over to shounen. Blood, death, and eternal suffering—that would stop you from thinking about his lashes.)

Satoru was close. So, so close, that a butterfly awakened in your chest.And was it just your imagination or was he leaning even closer to you?

“Huh…” he mumbled out. Locking your eyes together, he gazed deep into yours, not romantically—though you were too consumed by his stare to tell the difference. It was more like… He was in awe.

You fidgeted. “W-what?”

“Your eye color changes a little under the sun,” he smiled, sweet and youthful. “Pretty.”

Mush. There was only mush in your head. And Satoru. “You—You’re too close! Get off me!”

He giggled, easily catching your hand before you could shove him away. “You’re blushing? So cute~”

“Why are you two still here?!” Yaga, the same teacher from before, returned with a volleyball in hand. Apparently, he left earlier to get his equipment. “Didn’t I tell you to go already?!”

“We’re going!” Satoru released you, clicking his tongue in annoyance—maybe a habit? “I swear to God, that man needs to get laid.”

“I heard that, Satoru!”

“I wanted you to hear that, Sensei!”

“Are you crazy?!” You slapped his chest. “That’s a teacher you’re talking to!”

“Relax, my grandpa owns this school. He can’t touch me.”

Why am I not surprised? Biting back your sigh, you took a step back, only to realize, great, I bruised my ankle.

He noticed, even when you were trying your best to hide it. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you said, doing as best as you could to walk without limping. “Thanks for the help. I’ll see you never.”

He matched your steps. “Did you sprain your ankle?”

“Just a bruise.”

“We should visit the infirmary first, just in case.”

“We?”

“I can’t possibly let you go alone.” He sounded like you were asking a dumb question. “Half of this was my fault anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you threw my bag—”

“Because I’m so handsome that you felt too shy to just jump into my arms,” he spoke over you. His lips curving. “Wouldn’t have injured yourself if you just did what I said. But don’t worry. I’m sure there will be another chance.”

I hope not, you shuddered.

“Seems like you’re in pain, Sweetheart.”

“I’m fine.”

“Want me to carry you?” He beamed at you. “Piggyback ride? I can do it bridal style too, if you want. It will be so cute, we can head toward the sunset together after school.”

“I’d rather die. And stop following me. I’m heading to the restroom.”

“Running away from me? Coward.”

“You want me to pee on you? ‘Cause I’ll do it.”

“Kinky, but maybe some other time.”

Thankfully though, he listened to you this time, returning back the privacy you’d been craving since the moment he opened his mouth. He watched you walk away, his lips slowly curving back up as a new sense of excitement and joy filled his chest. “Hey, Princess!” He shouted, making sure that you’d hear his next words even with the distance between you. “I’ll see you on Sunday!”

“For what?!”

“Our date!”

“Oh, fuck off!”

And that was it. That was how you met your husband. To sum up, he had no sense of delicacy, he talked too much, had no respect for your personal space, and the way he snickered every time he saw you? Ugh. Yes, he was pretty. Yes, he made your heart race. But you’re not that shallow of a woman to be with someone just because of their looks so nothing ever happened. Not right away, at least.

These childish banters and unfortunate meetings kept occurring during your years in high school. And as if that wasn’t enough, God reunited you once again in college. You thought you were cursed. He thought it was destiny. You still remember how you used to hold yourself back from ripping out his hair whenever he walked up to you, grinning from ear to ear while singing—not calling—out your name. But then you had this one class with him during your final year and your professor put you two on the same project together. You started getting to know him better, and you found out that Satoru had more sides to him, more complex than just a little brat who craved your attention. You got closer. You stopped rejecting his calls. You missed his cheeky grins when he wasn’t around. And when he kissed you when you were crying because your dog just died? It wasn’t that bad. It was comforting. It was warm. And sweet. It was wonderful.

(Yes, out of all the times he could’ve picked, he kissed you after you buried the precious family member who’d wiggled his tail for you for seven years)

And before you know it, he asked you to be his forever and you said yes. Immediately. Undoubtedly. Wholeheartedly.

“Earth to wifey~” Your husband Satoru pops his head back into your vision. The ceiling that you’ve been staring at for the last few minutes turns blurry behind him. You blink, placing your focus back on him. “You suddenly turned quiet. Is it really that hard to answer my question? Babe, if you tell me you forgot about our first meeting, I’m actually going to shed some real manly tears.”

You heaved out a sigh. “Actually, it’s the opposite. I remember it all too well.”

“Aaaw, baby~” He reaches over to kiss you, only to have you slap a palm over his face.

“Now that I think about it,” you say. “You were so annoying when we first met. And disrespectful.”

He blinks, sweating. “B-babe?”

“Not to mention narcissistic, selfish, impolite—”

“Wait, hold up—What’s going on?!”

“You called me Polky. You called me fat—”

“Wait, this is not the reaction I wanted—You’re supposed to fall deeper in love with me!”

“You threw my bag without permission. You never paid back for what you did to my iPad. You kissed me on my dog’s funeral—oh wow, you were a little piece of—”

“Okay, forget the past, forget the past! Remember that you love me!”

“I think you should go back to your side of the bed.”

“Babeeeeeeee, I’m sorryyyyyyyyy!” He whines, tackling you in a hug, and rubbing his face on your stomach. “You can have my credit card for today. Buy anything you want, okay? No limit.”

“Okay, deal.”

You shake his hand, and the deal is done. Mission accomplished.

“Why do I feel like I just got tricked?” Satoru pouts.

You gently pat his cheek, smiling. “Remember that you love me, honey.”

You can’t help but think that if cupids were real, your cupid must have worked overtime cause damn, what tough work it was to make you fall in love with his insufferable ass.

“Ah! You just thought I’m insufferable, didn’t you?” Satoru asks, squinting his eyes.

You plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I think about you that way every day, my love.”

“You are so in love with me,” he giggles, snuggling closer to you. “Baby, baby, I’m cold.” He circles his arms around your waist again, landing a cute kiss on your shoulder. You can tell he’s smiling like a child, hugging you like a child, and as much as you want to go back to sleep, you can never find the strength to push him away when he’s like this.

“Fine, we can cuddle. But keep your mouth shut. I’m going to sleep.”

“Okay~”

“I’m serious.”

He pretends to zip up his mouth.

“Okay, good. Stay like that.”

Satoru nods. He holds onto his promise. He keeps his mouth shut.

Can’t say the same about his other body parts though.

Because your husband is now grinding his hips against your behind, not too much, not too hard, just enough to make you notice that yup, he’s hard. His hands slip underneath your nightgown, skimming over your thighs before they press flat against your stomach. He’s so warm—he’s always warm—and every touch he paints on your skin is both comforting and provoking.

“Satoru,” you warn him.

He makes humming noises in response, basically telling you, “I’m keeping my mouth shut, just like you asked.” He’s bratty that way.

You sigh. You decide to let him be. It will take more energy to push him away anyway. Besides, even if he’s insatiable when it comes to sex, Satoru will never force you to do anything you don’t want to. You just have to ignore him.

Which is not an easy feat, unfortunately, because before long, his hands find their way to your breasts, cupping each one fully with his palms. He makes another noise, which you easily translate to “Good morning, girls~” (You know this because he said that almost every other morning). Giddy, Satoru finds himself giggling again, squeezing them from behind but in a way that is so not sexy. It’s like a kid trying out his new squeeze toy in Toys-R-Us.

You roll your eyes. “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.” He starts playing with your nipples this time. Again, in a totally not sexy way. He’s tweaking, pinching, poking your buds inside with his point fingers, and watching them pop back out again. He’s tittering near your ear and you should really find him annoying but you can’t help but giggle too. He’s so dumb for even finding this entertaining.

“You are unbelievable,” you say, turning your head around just enough to kiss him. You hope for dear God, you don’t smell like your usual morning breath, but seeing how he doesn’t smell like one and still tastes like the whipped cream he had eaten (off your body) three hours ago, you figure you’ll be okay.

You don’t plan to take this further than a playful kiss but when you feel your husband groan against your mouth, pleased by the way you close your lips around his so perfectly, you know you’re losing your battle, and you don’t care. Who cares if you only had three hours of sleep and eight hours of stressful work ahead of you? Satoru tastes so sweet on your tongue. He always does. And you’re addicted to him.

With a little push, you have him lying back on the bed. He has one hand resting on your nape, holding your head firmly as he kisses you deeper. “Satoru,” you sigh against his mouth, his tongue rubbing against yours before he moves down to pepper kisses down your neck. He stays mute, but only because you told him to before (though if you knew it would lead to this, you wouldn’t have said so). Your husband may have the habit of spouting out stupid jokes one after another in his wake, but he always says the right thing during sex. The things you want to hear. The things you love to hear.

You can feel him smiling against your ear, your body shivering at the sensation of his breath caressing your skin. You can’t help but expect him to whisper something, something that you know will make you curl your toes in excitement. Last night he had you begging to turn every filthy word he spoke into action. Today, he just takes your earlobe between his lips, his breathing steady but heavy. The sound of his lips parting… The little mmm when he sucks on the sensitive spot… You're losing your mind.

His touch no longer feels light on your skin, drawing out hushed moans from your lips when he kneads your breasts, his thumb gliding against your nipple from over your gown. A soft chuckle brushes your ear. He knows how much you want to hear his voice. It doesn’t feel right to you, feels like something’s missing. But he won’t do that. Not until you start pleading.

But two can play at this game.

You sit down on his lap, the strap of your nightgown sliding down your shoulder just enough to tease. The sight of the purple bruises he left on your cleavage the night before entices him. You’re so pretty. So pretty when you’re marked and bruised.

With both hands on his chest, you nibble on your lower lip, rubbing your against his hardness. “I need you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he groans, losing his battle. He starts whining when he sees you giggling. “Baby, that’s not fair. You never said that to me before.”

“Really?” You roll your hips, rubbing him at the right spot, the right pace. The way you move is obscene. The thin fabrics separating your body from his only add more excitement to your already burning skin. “And does Daddy like it?”

His face nearly explodes. “Oh my God, stop. You’re torturing me.” He sits up only to grab you by the waist before he throws you back to bed with one arm.

You find yourself laughing when he blows against your stomach, treating you like a child. “Stop, that tickles!”

“I asked you to call me Daddy in the last three years we’ve been married and you always kicked me in the face, and now you’re saying it just like that?”

“What, did you want it to be special? Should I go make you a bath filled with roses, put Hatsune Miku on speakers—”

“Oh, that’s it, come here!”

You’re laughing until you can’t breathe, your leg pulled and your arm pinned behind your back. He tickles your sides, his smile playful and bright, filled with mirth. This joy you both have, you’ve never shared it with anyone else. And maybe he feels that too. Because when he flips you around, pressing your bodies together, Satoru’s gaze turns soft. He leans close, gathering your face in his hand. There’s no laughter, no giggle, no mischief in his eyes, only honesty. His voice sounds deep yet gentle when he speaks, “I love you.”

No matter how often he’s said it in the past, how much he’s said it yesterday, it always feels like it’s the first time you hear the words. And it’s rare for you to say it back to him, but he doesn’t mind. He understands that you often struggle to portray your feelings with words, too shy to say it under his overwhelming gaze, and if you ask him, it’s one of the reasons why he cherishes you so dearly. Because he knows whenever those words do come out of your mouth, you truly mean them.

Like now.

Cupping the back of his hand, you press your cheek further against his palm. “I love you more,” you whisper. “Every part of you.” And there’s so much more you wish you could say, but will your words ever be enough to describe them all? It wasn’t obvious to his eyes before as you were good at masking your emotions with sarcastic remarks and mean retorts, but reminiscing those old days you shared with him… It really made you realize just how much you’re in love with the man you’ve shared the last seven years with. You’ve grown so attached that even the thought of spending some days alone without him scares you to your bones. And with the way he’s gazing at you right now, ocean eyes filled with the same amount of passion and affection as they were on the day he confessed his feelings to you for the first time, it’s only right for you to be overwhelmed by your emotions.

Sometimes it scares me because I never thought I’d feel this way about someone.

Even the simplest thought of losing you, of not having you wake up beside me in the morning, is enough to haunt me for days.

Stay with me. Don’t ever leave me.

I love you.

Satoru.

“I just… I love you so much…” And you hate that it’s all you could say.

But it’s enough. It’s more than enough. Because Satoru is blushing, his eyes turning round, his lips parted but no words can be found. He just looks at you, astonished by the vulnerability you display on your face. The honesty. The purity of each gesture. How beautiful you are…

“Satoru?”

He pulls you into his embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Hugging you so tightly, he barely gives you a chance to breathe and yet, you only wish for him to hold you tighter. You can’t tell just how much your words paint vibrant colors to his world—and bold red to his cheeks. “Are you planning to give me a heart attack?” He murmurs near your ear, a hint of shiver in his voice. “What the hell was that?”

You can’t help but chuckle. Embarrassed Satoru is the best kind of Satoru. “Sorry.”

“You kidding me? Say it again.” He returns the space between you, but only for an inch or two because that’s all he can bear. He strokes your face, his heart beating hard enough that you can almost feel it on your skin. “I think this is the cutest you’ve ever been.”

“I’m maxed out for today, though,” you say, wincing. “You’re gonna have to wait another ten years before I say that again.”

“I’ll wait forever if that’s what it takes,” he smiles, gliding his thumb across your cheekbone before he kisses you. “My sweet, sweet wife. I’m so happy I kissed you that day. Sorry your dog died, though.”

You chortle. “Honestly, you couldn’t have picked some other time?”

“You looked super cute when you cried, okay? Sue me.”

“You’re so ridiculous.” But you press his lips against his anyway, both of you smiling into the kiss.

“Babe.”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have your tits back in my mouth?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Can I… also bring my carrot back to my bunny’s mouth?”

“Aaaaand we’re done.” With a little shove to his chest, you send him back to the bed.

“Wha—” He sputters, mouth opening and closing like fish out of water. “Babe—”

“I’m gonna go make some coffee.”

“No, wait!” He shuffles quickly to his knees, holding onto your wrist. “Honey, I was kidding!”

“Moment’s gone, Toru.”

“But I’m still haaaard,” he cries, and whines, pleading at you with his pretty eyes. “Baby, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll behave so come back to me? Please?”

You already have one foot off the bed, tossing him a look over your shoulder. “You have hands.” Tying up your hair in a messy bun, you step down, smirking. “Use them.”

“Babeeeeee~”

You lean in to kiss him on the nose, patting his cheek when you say, “Take your time.”

As you walk away, you hear him mumble sadly behind you, “But your carrot…”

Yeah, your husband is insufferable.

And that’s why you love him.

***

Next Chapter

Shoutout to @justasketch and @princess-okkotsu for being my first readers and for not throwing up from the excessive amount of cringe in this fic. Love you, babes ❤️

#gojo fluff #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fics #gojou x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen #fics.24HourswithYou

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rin-spotted · 11 months ago

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@sakura-miku-spotted spotted!

Introduction!!!

─────────────☆──────────── Inspired by @rin-spotted to become Sakura miku spotted so yayyy!!!!

Tags bc yes-

#Sakura-spotted! - Sakura miku spotted :3

#not-Sakura-spotted! - not Sakura miku spotted

#Sakura-asks - askssss

Feel free to request more later bc I can't think of any!

─────────────☆────────────

Also feel free to tag me in Sakura miku art or memes or anything in that orbit!

#not rin spotted!#YAYAYAY im so excited to see sakura mikus on my dash...! :3:3:3 #your blog theme is so cute i love it already...!!!#(oh also you have been added to the masterlist!! ^^)

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ducktoo · 3 months ago

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Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

13. Active in the…sun?

Note: none, have fun with the fluff

Masterlist here

It started with a simple invitation.

Y/n had been going about his day at the SM building, as usual, when a group of idols—mostly from NCT and EXO—caught him by surprise in the staff lounge. Kai, Taeyong, and Chanyeol casually approached, holding their water bottles and flashing familiar grins. He has been hanging out with them often these days, ever since he gained his fame as the “Sasaeng blocker”.

"Yo, Y/n!" Kai called out, causing Y/n to glance up from his phone. "We’re putting together a soccer match later. You in?"

Y/n blinked, surprised at the invitation. "Eh, me? For soccer? Are you sure, hyung?"

Chanyeol nodded enthusiastically. "Of course! We’ve seen you running around with the girls. You’re in shape, man, and we need more players. Plus, it’s just a friendly game."

"Right," Y/n said, scratching the back of his neck. "But I haven’t played in forever. I’m probably rusty."

Taeyong waved it off. "Doesn’t matter. It’s all for fun. If anything, it’s more funny if some of us messed up. What do you say?"

Before Y/n could even fully process the idea, Giselle and Ningning, who had overheard the conversation from across the room, suddenly popped their heads around the corner.

"Wait, Y/n’s playing soccer?" Giselle asked, her curiosity piqued.

Ningning followed up, grinning. "With NCT and EXO-sunbaenim? You’ve gotta do it, Y/n."

Y/n raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! Fine, I’m in."

Word spread quickly, and by the time Y/n made it back to the practice room with aespa, all four girls were buzzing with excitement. Even Karina, who usually kept her cool, seemed interested.

"You’re really going to play with the others?" Karina asked, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

Y/n nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. "Yeah, but it’s just a casual thing."

Winter, who had been scrolling through her phone, suddenly perked up. "When is it?"

"This afternoon," Y/n replied, glancing at the clock. "I’ll probably head over soon."

Ningning gave him a sly grin. "We’re coming to watch."

“Please don’t.”

Giselle nudged Winter, who had an almost excited gleam in her eye. "It’s not every day we get to see you in action. You better not trip on the field, Y/n."

"I will trip, just to embarrass all of you" he muttered, feeling the weight of their teasing already. But as they all exchanged knowing glances, he could feel something else brewing—especially from Winter. She wasn’t one to normally get worked up about anything athletic, but today, there was a new energy about her.

By the time Y/n arrived at the SM outdoor soccer field, the teams were already warming up. The guys from EXO and NCT were scattered across the field, stretching and kicking the ball around. Y/n could feel the butterflies in his stomach as he walked up, spotting his name on one of the makeshift team lists.

“Casual match, hyung said. Yet there is a full list for each team.” Y/n chuckled. “And holy sht they came.”

And, of course, aespa had already staked out a spot on the sidelines. Giselle, Ningning, Karina, and Winter were bundled up in jackets, watching with amusement as Y/n geared up. Winter, in particular, had her eyes glued to him, which only made Y/n more nervous.

Actually, that girl brought a whole cheerleading set. And no, not the cute and girly one. The one hardcore fans wore at a Hatsune Miku concert.

"Good luck!" Ningning called out, waving as Y/n jogged onto the field.

"Yeah, don’t embarrass yourself!" Winter added, her voice filled with playful sarcasm. "Or we're making you eat our cooking."

“You ARE embarrassing! Change your clothes already you hobbit!”

That made Y/n earned a middle finger from Winter, respectfully censored by Karina and Ningning on each side.

The first half of the game was fast-paced. Y/n quickly found his rhythm, darting between players and making some solid passes. He even managed to block a goal attempt from Suho, which earned him a loud cheer from the sidelines. He could hear Ningning and Giselle shouting encouragement, but Winter’s voice stood out the most.

"Go, Y/n!" Winter practically yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos of the game. “Kick them already!!”

Y/n nearly stumbled, distracted by her enthusiasm. He shot a quick glance over to the sidelines, catching Winter’s bright smile and the way her eyes lit up every time he got close to the ball. It wasn’t helping his focus, but it did give him an extra boost of energy.

As the game progressed, the boys were getting more competitive. Kai and Taeyong were neck and neck, their teams pushing harder and harder to score. Y/n was right in the middle of it, doing his best to keep up with the pros.

Then, just as Y/n was preparing to intercept a pass from Jaehyun, he heard Winter again.

"Nice pass, Y/n!" someone from EXO called out, and a cheer erupted from the sidelines.

"Go, Y/n!" Winter’s roar rang out louder than the rest, catching him off guard for a second. He glanced over, noticing her beaming with pride as she cupped her hands around her mouth for emphasis. Karina smirked next to her, nudging Winter playfully, while Ningning and Giselle exchanged knowing looks.

Y/n’s cheeks reddened slightly as he quickly refocused on the game. He hadn’t expected Winter to be so... vocal. It was flattering, but also a little nerve-wracking. His mind wandered briefly—Did she do that for everyone, or was it just him?

The game was going well at first—Y/n had a few decent moments, made some good passes, and even managed to defend against a couple of NCT’s players. But halfway through the second half, things started to take a turn. The score was tied, and tensions were rising.

Then it happened—a missed pass, a perfect opportunity to score slipping through Y/n’s fingers as the ball sailed wide of the goalpost. He could feel his frustration bubbling up. He wasn’t usually one to let things get to him, but this time, something snapped.

"Ah, for f**k’s sake!" Y/n groaned, louder than he intended, as he slapped his hands on his knees in frustration.

The sudden outburst caught the attention of everyone nearby, including the girls on the sidelines.

"Did… did Y/n just curse in front of others and not us?" Karina asked, her eyes wide.

Winter and Ningning burst into laughter. "I think he did!" Winter replied, giggling. "Who knew our idiot could get so worked up?"

Y/n flushed, realising his mistake, but there was no taking it back now. He tried to refocus on the game, ignoring the snickering from the sidelines. Every time he glanced over, Winter was laughing, clearly enjoying his slip-up.

As the game continued, Y/n couldn’t help but notice how Winter’s cheers seemed to get louder every time he touched the ball. Even the other guys started to take notice.

"Looks like you’ve got some serious support there," Doyoung teased as they took a brief break for water.

"Yeah, seems like Winter’s really into it," Taeyong added with a smirk, nudging Y/n’s arm. "Anything you want to tell us?"

Y/n’s face turned crimson as he shook his head. "Nah, she’s just messing with me."

But when he looked back over at aespa, Winter caught his eye and waved, her grin wide and unmistakably mischievous. The other girls were laughing now too, clearly enjoying the spectacle of Y/n’s growing embarrassment.

"Yeah, right," Taeyong chuckled, not buying Y/n’s dismissal for a second. "You’re lucky, man. Most of us barely get a nod of acknowledgment from them, but she’s all about your game."

Y/n coughed awkwardly, trying to shrug it off as no big deal. But the truth was, it was kind of a big deal. Winter had been acting a little differently around him recently, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why the guys were teasing him about it.

As if things couldn’t get more intense, the skies darkened unexpectedly. Large, ominous clouds rolled in, and soon, raindrops began to fall. It started as a light drizzle, but within minutes, it turned into a full-on downpour.

The players on the field exchanged glances, but no one was ready to quit yet. If anything, the rain seemed to energize them. The ball slid across the slick grass, and the once casual game became more competitive.

Y/n, now soaked to the bone, found himself sprinting harder, making riskier plays, and diving for the ball like his life depended on it. The rain blurred his vision, but he kept pushing, determined to make up for his earlier mistake.

The girls were enjoying the intense match even more after the rain. Although, two different conversations were in the same spot.

"Is it just me, or Y/n actually look good in the rain…" Giselle gawked, feeling proud that dragging him to the gym was worth it.

"Oh right, true!" Ningning slapped Giselle's back repeatedly in excitement. "Damn, he's so manly!"

"Knock it off, you two." Karina smacked the cheeky members' head. "You're lucky that girl paid too much attention to the match like a fanatic right now."

The three of them glanced at Winter, whose voice cut through the rain, louder than ever. As if there wasn't anything else in this world at this moment, Winter kept on cheering with all of her might. She kept on waving around her cheerleading sticks, which gave some teasing ammo to the girls who mimicked her.

However, she was fully enjoying the cheer. "Come on, Y/n! Kick their butt!"

Y/n couldn’t help but smile. Her support was somehow both embarrassing and motivating at the same time.

The rain showed no signs of letting up, but the match was nearing its end. With the score still tied, both teams were fighting tooth and nail for the final point. Y/n’s team was on the offensive, and the ball was passed to him just outside the goal box.

"FINAL SHOT!!"

With a slick kick and a satisfying shout, Y/n sent the ball soaring toward the goal. Time seemed to slow down as the goalie dove, hands outstretched, but it was too late. The ball hit the back of the net.

"Goal!" Kai yelled, and the rest of the team rushed over to Y/n, cheering and high-fiving him despite the rain pouring down.

From the sidelines, aespa erupted into applause, with Winter shouting the loudest of all. "Y/n! You ducking did it!"

As Y/n stood there, drenched and exhausted, he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. The victory was sweet, but the way Winter looked at him, her face beaming with excitement, made it even sweeter.

With the game over, the rain finally began to ease up. The boys gathered at the edge of the field, dripping with water but laughing and talking excitedly about the match.

"Nice goal, Y/n," Taeyong said, clapping him on the back. "You really pulled through at the end."

"Thanks," Y/n said, still catching his breath. "It was tough, but fun."

The girls approached, still teasing him. "I can’t believe you cursed earlier!" Giselle said, shaking her head with a grin. "Our calm, collected manager, losing his cool on the field."

Ningning laughed. "I wish I’d recorded it!"

Winter, though, was a bit quieter, her smile soft but genuine. "You did great out there," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she caught Y/n’s eye.

"Thanks," he replied, feeling his heart skip a beat. Maybe the rain wasn’t the only reason his cheeks were flushed.

As they all headed back inside, Y/n couldn’t help but steal a few glances at Winter. The rain had brought out something unexpected today—both on the field and off. And maybe, just maybe, things were changing between them even more.

#aespa #aespa x reader #kpop #aespa giselle #aespa karina #aespa ningning #aespa winter #karina #ningning #giselle #aespa x you #aespa x male reader #aeri uchinaga #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin #kim minjeong #x reader

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mononijikayu · 4 months ago

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cantarella — gojo satoru.

“Satoru.” you called softly, holding up the flower crown you had made. It was a simple creation, woven from a mix of daisies, buttercups, and clover. The flowers were arranged in a delicate, colorful circle, their petals still fresh and dewy from the morning sun. He looked up from his sketchpad, his expression as indifferent as ever, but a hint of curiosity sparkled in his eyes. “What’s that?” he asked, his tone more inquisitive than dismissive. You knelt beside him, holding the flower crown out. “It’s a gift for you.” you said cheerfully. “I made it just for you. I thought you might like to wear it.”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Nobility;

WARNING/s: Angst, Not Safe For Work (NSFW), Dark Fic, Yandere! Gojo, Toxic One-Sided Romance, One-Sided Incest, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Incest, Hurt/ No Comfort, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Please Save Reader;

WORDS: 11k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was inspired by this version of cantarella by kaito and miku i watched a long long time ago. i remembered about this notes i had about it while sitting and studying for uni. and i wrote it sitting down instead of reading more because inspiration came to me. i hope you enjoy it, even though its a dark fic!!! i love you all <3

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YOU WERE FREE, YOU THINK. As the heavy iron gates of the convent swung open, the world outside flooded your senses, a stark contrast to the cloistered life you’d led for years.

The scent of damp earth and blooming flowers replaced the cold, sterile air of the convent, while the distant hum of life—a world you had been shielded from—pressed in on you. Your eyes blinked against the sudden brightness, the light almost painful after so many years of darkness.

The distant memories of your parents’ tragic deaths haunted you, lingering like a dark cloud over your soul. Their faces were blurred now, softened by time but not forgotten.

The whispers of their absence were loudest in your heart, a constant reminder of the life that had been ripped away from you. Grief had been your only companion, even more than the nuns who had raised you, and now it threatened to drown you as you took your first steps into the world beyond those gates.

Now, as the newly orphaned Duchess, the title weighed heavily on your shoulders, burdened with expectations you weren’t sure you could fulfill. The responsibilities that came with it loomed over you, a shadow of the future that awaited. You had been a child when the world had last known you, but now, the world demanded more—a woman, a Duchess, a leader.

You stepped out into the open, the gravel crunching beneath your feet as the cold wind whispered through the barren trees. The carriage waited in silence, an imposing reminder of the life you were about to inherit—a life you had never asked for. The estate loomed in the distance, its shadowy silhouette framed against a darkening sky.

It was supposed to be home, a sanctuary, yet it felt nothing like it. The sprawling lands, the echoing halls, and the faceless people who would serve you—they were yours now, or so everyone insisted. But as you stood there, shivering in the twilight, you couldn't help but wonder what "yours" truly meant.

Was it the title bestowed upon you, heavy and hollow, that now defined your existence? Or was it the legacy that clung to your name, a legacy built on the sacrifices and sorrows of those who came before?

Perhaps it was the past, a mosaic of memories and losses that had shaped you, leaving cracks in your heart that would never fully heal. And now, as you faced the uncertain road ahead, you realized that your future, too, was bound by these invisible chains. A future where each step would be weighed down by duty, expectation, and the inescapable fear of the unknown.

But despite the fear gnawing at your resolve, despite the weight of the unknown pressing down on your shoulders, you knew there was no turning back. The world outside the convent walls, a world you had once seen only in fleeting dreams, had now become your reality.

A reality where your choices—or lack thereof—would define not just your life, but the lives of those who depended on you. And so, with a heart heavy with dread and determination, you took a deep breath and stepped forward. Ready or not, you had to face it.

The carriage stood before you like a silent sentinel, its dark velvet interior offering little in the way of comfort. The family crest, meticulously embossed on its side, glinted ominously in the fading light, a stark reminder of the bloodline that bound you to this life.

As you approached, the driver, a man of few words and fewer expressions, gave a brief nod, his face as unreadable as the future that awaited you. There was no comfort to be found in his gaze, only the cold efficiency of someone accustomed to serving the powerful.

Climbing into the carriage, you felt the chill of the autumn air seep into your bones, mingling with the dread that clung to your skin. The unfamiliar path ahead stretched out before you, winding through forests and fields that you barely remembered.

Every jolt of the carriage wheels against the rough terrain seemed to echo the uncertainty within you, the sense of being unmoored from everything you once knew. Yet, despite the fear that tightened your chest, a quiet resolve began to build within you. The path was dark, and the journey would be long, but it was yours to take.

As the carriage began to move, you allowed yourself one last glance at the world you were leaving behind. The convent, with its high walls and serene silence, had been a place of refuge, but it was also a cage—one that you had outgrown. The life ahead, with all its unknowns, was daunting, but it was also a chance to carve out a new destiny, one that was truly your own.

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YOU WERE FINALLY HERE. Days had passed before the carriage finally came to a halt. The endless journey had given you time to think, to imagine what awaited you, but nothing could have prepared you for the reality.

The estate loomed large and imposing before you, a testament to the power and wealth that now rested on your shoulders. But it was not the grandeur of the estate that caught your attention as you stepped down from the carriage—it was the man who stood waiting.

Gojo Satoru. Your cousin. The only family you had left.

You had heard of him in whispers and letters, the distant cousin who had managed your affairs while you grew up behind convent walls. The cousin who had wanted to raise you himself but had been overruled by those who deemed it more proper for a young duchess to be sheltered and shaped by the church. A cousin who had become a stranger over the years.

But now, standing before him, you saw just how much he had changed. He had grown handsome, undeniably so. Tall and broad-shouldered, his presence was commanding, his silver hair catching the last rays of the setting sun, giving him an almost ethereal glow.

The dark glasses he wore only added to the air of mystery, concealing his eyes and leaving you to wonder what lay behind them. His lips curled into a smile that was anything but comforting. It was a smile that promised more than a simple welcome; it promised possession.

You were drawn to him, as you had been as a child. The way he moved, the way he spoke—it was as if the world bent to his will. But now, as a woman, you saw the darkness in his gaze, the twisted hunger that had taken root in his heart over the years.

"Cousin." he murmured, his voice smooth and sickly sweet, as if every word was coated in honey, "it’s been too long."

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself in his overwhelming presence. "It has, Satoru. I... hardly recognized you."

His smile widened, a flash of white teeth that made your heart skip a beat. "And I, you. But then, how could I recognize someone I’ve only known through letters and rumors? Yet here you are, in the flesh, finally free from those cold walls."

There was something in his tone that made you uneasy, a sharp edge beneath the politeness. "Yes, finally," you replied, your voice quieter than you intended. "Thank you for... taking care of everything while I was away. It must have been a burden."

"Burden?" He chuckled softly, the sound rich and unsettling. "Not at all, my dear. It was a pleasure, truly. I did what any family would do—protect what is ours, and ensure it would be ready for your return.”

“Then…Then, I thank you, cousin.”

Though…." he paused, his gaze lingering on you, "I must admit, I didn’t expect you to have grown into such a… lovely woman."

The way he said it made your skin prickle. There was no mistaking the intent in his words, the way his eyes, hidden though they were, seemed to strip you bare. You took a small step back, trying to reclaim some sense of control.

"I suppose we’ve both changed," you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible. "But we’re still family, Satoru. I hope we can... get to know each other again."

"Indeed," he replied, his voice dropping to a lower, more intimate tone. "Family is everything, after all. And now that you’re here, we can finally be together, as we were always meant to be."

The way he said it sent a chill down your spine. There was something more in his words, something that hinted at a deeper, more dangerous desire. You forced a smile, hoping to mask your unease. "Yes, together. It’s been so long, after all."

He stepped closer, closing the small distance you had created. "Too long, cousin. But now that you’re back, I intend to make up for all the lost time. You and I… we have so much to catch up on."

The finality in his tone left little room for argument, and as he offered his arm to lead you inside, you had no choice but to take it, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sleeve. His grip was firm, almost possessive, as he guided you through the grand doors of the estate that would now be your home.

But as you crossed the threshold, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were stepping into something far more dangerous than you had ever imagined. And that the cousin who walked beside you was not just your protector, but something far darker, something you were not sure you could escape.

The estate he led you to was vast, cold, and eerily silent. Each step echoed through the corridors, the sound bouncing off the stone walls that seemed to close in on you with every passing moment. It was a place meant to impress, to awe with its sheer size and grandeur, but all it inspired in you was a deep sense of unease. The shadows seemed longer here, the light dimmer, as if the house itself had secrets it was unwilling to reveal.

Gojo’s hand hovered just above your lower back, never quite touching, but close enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. It was a silent assertion of control, a reminder that he was guiding you, that you were under his protection—or perhaps his possession. The gesture felt more like a threat than a comfort, his proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

As you walked, you noticed the servants—silent, spectral figures who moved quickly to avoid your gaze. Their eyes darted away whenever they saw the two of you, averted as if they knew something you did not, as if they feared something you were only beginning to sense. They kept their distance, and when they spoke, it was in hushed tones, their whispers carried away by the drafty corridors, lost in the vastness of the estate.

The grand halls, adorned with portraits of ancestors long gone, felt more like a mausoleum than a home. The faces in the paintings seemed to watch you with disapproval, their cold eyes following your every move, judging you, questioning your right to be here.

The air was thick with history, but it was a history that felt oppressive, as though the very stones of the house were weighed down by the sins and secrets of those who had lived here before.

Gojo’s voice broke the silence, low and almost conspiratorial. “It’s been a long time since these halls have seen life,” he said, his tone carrying a hint of something unspoken. “I’m afraid the estate has grown as cold as its master in your absence.”

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the unease that clung to you like a second skin. “It’s... it’s very grand,” you replied, struggling to find the right words. “I suppose it will take some getting used to.”

He chuckled softly, the sound devoid of real warmth. “Grand, yes. But it is a lonely place, cousin. One grows accustomed to the silence, to the emptiness, but I’ve always thought it would be different with you here.”

The way he said it made your skin crawl. There was something too intimate in his words, something that suggested his desire for you went far beyond familial affection. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, but his expression was unreadable behind those dark glasses, his lips curled into that same unsettling smile.

“You’ve taken such good care of everything,” you said, trying to steer the conversation to safer ground. “I’m grateful, truly. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

His smile widened, but there was no joy in it, only something dark and possessive. “There’s no need for repayment,” he murmured, his voice dipping into a more dangerous register. “You’re here now, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted. We’re family, after all.”

Family. The word echoed in your mind, but it felt hollow, like a cage closing in around you. The estate, the title, the wealth—it was all yours, but at what cost? And as Gojo led you deeper into the heart of the mansion, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being led into something far darker, something that would be much harder to escape.

At last, you reached what appeared to be a sitting room, the heavy doors creaking as Gojo pushed them open. The room was dimly lit, a fire crackling weakly in the hearth, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The furniture was old but well-kept, the upholstery dark and rich, but it did little to warm the cold atmosphere of the room.

“This will be your sanctuary,” Gojo said, guiding you inside. “A place to rest, to think, to remember that this is your home now.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. As you looked around, the reality of your situation began to sink in. This was your home, your life now. But the estate that should have been a sanctuary felt more like a prison, and the man who should have been your protector felt more like a captor.

“I’ll leave you to get settled, cousin.” Gojo said, finally stepping back, though his presence lingered in the room long after he had left. “But don’t be a stranger, cousin. We have much to discuss, and I’ve been waiting a long time for this.”

As the door closed behind him, the silence of the room enveloped you, cold and suffocating. You were alone now, but the shadow of Gojo’s presence lingered, and you knew that this was only the beginning.

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YOU WERE THE CENTER OF THE WORLD. Or at least that’s what Satoru had said when he told you that society celebrated your return with much joy. A ball was to take place in your honor, a grand affair meant to celebrate your return to the echelons of noble society.

The thought of it filled you with a mix of excitement and dread. After years of isolation, the idea of stepping into a room filled with the most powerful and influential members of the ton was daunting. You could already hear the whispers, feel the weight of their expectations.

Your reflection in the mirror stared back at you, a stranger dressed in silks and jewels. The gown you wore was exquisite, a deep sapphire that brought out the color of your eyes, the neckline adorned with pearls that once belonged to your mother. But despite the finery, you couldn’t help but feel exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t since leaving the convent.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, and before you could respond, Satoru entered the room. He moved with an easy grace, his presence commanding and almost overwhelming. Dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and tall frame, he was every bit the image of a duke, a man who could have anything and anyone he desired.

His eyes, hidden behind those dark glasses, seemed to pierce through you as he approached. “Nervous, cousin?” he asked, his voice smooth and laced with amusement.

You tried to smile, but it felt forced. But you could not help it, to be this nervous. To feel like you were going to vomit and find yourself in fright. This was your social debut, after being far away from your kind for so long.

“A little.” you admitted, your hands twisting together in your lap. “I haven’t been to a ball since I was a child. I don’t even know how to behave anymore.”

Satoru’s smile was gentle, but there was that ever-present edge to it, a darkness that lingered just beneath the surface. He stepped closer, taking one of your hands in his. His touch was warm, firm, and it steadied you, even as your heart raced beneath your chest.

“Don’t be.” he murmured, lifting your hand to his lips. He pressed a kiss to the back of it, the gesture both tender and possessive. “None can rival your beauty, or your existence. You will be the brightest star in the room tonight, and they will all fall at your feet.”

The way he spoke sent a shiver down your spine. His words were meant to reassure you, but there was something almost predatory in them, as if he was not merely presenting you to society, but staking his claim on you before them all.

“I just… I want to make a good impression.” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I am a duchess of the realm. I must do well. For our family."

“You will, cousin. Do not worry much.” Satoru replied, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “But remember, you have nothing to prove to them. You are the Duchess, the true heir to this estate. They should be the ones worrying about impressing you.”

You looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was confidence, a certainty that made you feel both comforted and trapped. There was no escaping the life you had returned to, and Satoru was a constant reminder of that.

“I’m here, by your side,” he continued, his voice a low, soothing murmur. “No one will dare speak ill of you. Not with me watching over you.”

His words wrapped around you like a protective veil, and despite the unease that still lingered, you felt a flicker of hope. Perhaps this night wouldn’t be as terrifying as you feared. Perhaps, with Satoru by your side, you could navigate the treacherous waters of noble society.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your fingers curling slightly around his as you let yourself lean into his presence, if only for a moment.

“Think nothing of it,” he replied, his smile growing wider, more possessive. “Tonight is just the beginning. And I’ll make sure they all know that you belong to me.”

With that, he offered you his arm, guiding you out of the room and toward the grand hall where the ball was to take place. The music had already started, the sound of violins and piano filling the air with an elegant melody.

As you stepped into the room, all eyes turned to you, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the scrutiny, the admiration. But Satoru’s hand on yours was a constant anchor, a reminder that no matter what, you were not alone.

And as the night unfolded, with dance after dance, with whispered conversations and stolen glances, you realized that Satoru’s words had not been an empty promise. You were indeed the brightest star in the room, and every person who approached you did so with a mix of awe and reverence. But beneath it all, you could feel the shadow of Satoru’s presence, always there, always watching.

And though you smiled and played your part, there was a part of you that wondered just how deep that shadow, and how much of yourself you would lose to the man who claimed to protect you.

As the evening progressed and the ballroom filled with the sounds of laughter and music, the time for dancing arrived. You had been introduced to countless faces, each more eager than the last to make a connection with the newly returned Duchess. But all the introductions and small talk had left you feeling exhausted, your nerves frayed by the constant attention.

Then, as if sensing your unease, a man approached you. He was tall, with a calm demeanor that immediately set him apart from the others. His hair was blond, neatly combed, and his sharp features were softened by the warm, sincere expression on his face. He bowed gracefully before you, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet intensity that made your breath catch.

"Your Grace," he said, his voice steady and kind, "may I have the honor of this dance?"

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. There was something about him—something genuine, something safe—that made you feel at ease in a way you hadn’t all night.

"Of course," you replied, allowing him to lead you to the center of the dance floor.

The music swelled as the two of you began to dance, moving in perfect harmony with the waltz. Unlike the others who had tried to impress you with their skills or status, this man—Count Nanami Kento, as you had been told—was different.

He was careful with you, his touch gentle as he guided you through the steps. His eyes never left yours, and in them, you saw not the hunger or ambition you had grown accustomed to, but something else entirely—kindness, understanding, and a quiet admiration that made your heart flutter.

With each turn, each graceful movement across the polished floor, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders. The laughter and chatter of the ballroom, once so overwhelming, now faded into a distant hum, a backdrop to the moment unfolding between you and Nanami.

The lights softened, the grand chandeliers casting a warm glow over the sea of dancers, yet all you could focus on was the man guiding you effortlessly through the crowd. His touch was gentle yet firm, his presence steady, grounding you in the here and now.

As you glided together, Nanami spoke in a voice so soft it felt like a secret shared between the two of you. He asked about your life, your thoughts, your dreams—questions that were simple, yet carried a depth that surprised you.

His gaze never wavered, and the way he listened made you feel as if every word you spoke was of utmost importance. There was no rush, no need to impress; just a quiet, sincere interest that drew you in.

Nanami was a world apart from the overwhelming force of Satoru, who often swept into your life like a whirlwind, leaving you breathless and off-kilter. Satoru’s presence was impossible to ignore, a vibrant, chaotic energy that demanded attention.

But here, with Nanami, everything was different. His calmness soothed the edges of your anxiety, his steady demeanor a balm to the storm that often raged within you. There was a reliability to him, a sense of safety that you hadn’t realized you craved until this very moment.

You found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t just the contrast to Satoru’s intensity, though that was part of it. There was something about Nanami’s quiet strength, his thoughtful nature, that spoke to a deeper part of you.

As you danced, the rest of the world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of you in a cocoon of shared understanding and unspoken connection. It was unexpected, this pull you felt toward him, yet it was undeniable.

Your graceful dance continued and little by little, you allowed yourself to get lost in the rhythm, in the soft cadence of his voice, in the comforting warmth of his presence. The worries that had plagued you moments before melted away, replaced by a sense of peace that was rare and precious.

In that fleeting moment, it felt as though time had slowed, and all that mattered was the steady beat of your hearts moving in sync, the unspoken promise of something more that lingered in the air between you.

As the dance came to an end, he held you a moment longer than necessary, his hand lingering on yours. His eyes, warm and sincere, held yours, and you felt a rush of something you hadn’t felt in years—something like hope, like the promise of something good. When he finally released you, he bowed again, his voice low and sincere.

"Thank you, Your Grace," he said softly. "It was truly a pleasure."

The words were simple, but the sincerity in them made your heart swell. You offered him a genuine smile, the first you had felt all night. "The pleasure was mine, Count Nanami."

As he stepped back into the crowd, you found yourself watching him go, your heart still racing from the unexpected connection. There was a warmth in your chest, a sense of peace that you hadn’t felt since you’d arrived at the estate. By the end of the night, you couldn’t deny it—you had fallen for him, the quiet, steady count who had treated you with such care.

But then, as you turned your gaze away from where Nanami had disappeared into the crowd, your eyes were drawn to a figure standing in the shadows at the edge of the ballroom. Satoru. His dark glasses glinted in the low light, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze, piercing through the distance between you. His expression was unreadable, his lips curved into a faint smile that sent a chill down your spine.

You knew that he had seen everything—the way you had smiled at Nanami, the way your guard had dropped in his presence. Satoru’s eyes bore into you, and the warmth that had filled you moments before was replaced by a cold dread.

No matter how much comfort you found in Nanami’s gaze, you couldn’t escape the shadow that Satoru cast over your life. And as the night drew to a close, you realized with a sinking heart that the feelings you had developed tonight would not go unnoticed or unchallenged.

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IT WAS OBVIOUS, THAT YOU WERE SMITTEN. In the weeks following the ball, the once overwhelming silence of the estate became bearable, softened by the anticipation of receiving each new letter from Count Nanami Kento.

The grand halls, with their cold marble floors and towering ceilings, no longer felt as lonely when you held his carefully penned words in your hands. His letters arrived with a sense of regularity, as if he knew precisely when you needed them most, each one a lifeline connecting you to something warmer, more genuine.

As you unfolded the delicate parchment, the world outside your window seemed to fade away. His handwriting, neat and precise, reflected the man himself—thoughtful, deliberate, with each word chosen with care.

His letters were not just a form of polite correspondence; they were conversations, deep and meaningful, where his interest in your life and well-being shone through. He asked about the small details, the little things that most overlooked, making you feel seen in a way you had not experienced before.

Nanami’s words were a balm to your troubled heart, each sentence carrying a sense of calm and reassurance that eased the tension that often gripped you in the estate’s oppressive atmosphere.

His kindness wasn’t ostentatious or overwhelming, but quiet and steady, like a gentle stream that slowly erodes the hardest stone. Through his letters, he offered you a refuge, a place where you could express your thoughts and feelings without fear of judgment or dismissal.

As the weeks passed, you found yourself eagerly awaiting each new letter, cherishing the moments when you could escape into the world he created with his words. His thoughts and feelings were laid bare, revealing a depth of emotion and understanding that resonated with you on a level you hadn’t expected. In a place where everything felt rigid and predetermined, his letters brought warmth and a sense of possibility, reminding you that there was more to life than the cold formality that surrounded you.

In his words, you felt understood and valued in a way that was rare and precious. The letters became a bridge between your two worlds, drawing you closer to him with each exchange. What had started as a simple correspondence had grown into something more, something that brought light into the darkest corners of your life.

And as you carefully folded each letter and tucked it away, you couldn’t help but feel that this connection with Nanami was something special, something that had the power to change everything.

However, not everyone was pleased with this growing connection. One evening, as you sat in the dimly lit parlor, absorbed in the latest letter from Nanami, the quiet solitude was suddenly disrupted by the sound of footsteps.

You looked up to see Satoru standing in the doorway, his presence filling the room with a tension that hadn’t been there moments before. His usual carefree demeanor was nowhere to be found; instead, his expression was stern, his blue eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place.

Satoru had been quieter than usual lately, his playful banter and easy smiles replaced by an uncharacteristic stillness. The change in his demeanor was subtle at first, but now, as he stood before you, the weight of it was undeniable.

His normally relaxed posture was rigid, his shoulders squared as if he were bracing himself for a confrontation. The way his eyes narrowed as they flicked to the letter in your hands sent a chill down your spine, making your stomach tighten with unease.

He didn’t say anything at first, but the silence between you was heavy, charged with unspoken words. You could feel his gaze, intense and searching, as if he were trying to unravel the connection you had been so carefully building with Nanami through your letters. The air in the room seemed to thicken, the warmth of Nanami’s words in your mind now clashing with the coldness radiating from Satoru.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and controlled, but there was an edge to it that made your heart skip a beat. “You’ve been spending a lot of time writing letters.” he remarked, his tone betraying the undercurrent of disapproval he was trying to mask. The implication was clear, though he didn’t directly mention Nanami’s name.

You felt a surge of defensiveness rise within you, but it was tempered by the confusion and hurt that came with seeing Satoru like this. The man who had always been a whirlwind of energy and confidence now stood before you, guarded and almost vulnerable in his own way. The tension between the two of you crackled in the air, a silent battle of wills as you both struggled with what was left unsaid.

Satoru’s gaze bore into yours, and for a moment, it felt as if the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that room, locked in a standoff where neither wanted to be the first to back down. The letter in your hands, once a source of comfort, now felt like a weight, a reminder of the widening chasm between you and the man who had always been a constant in your life.

“And I have heard from whispers, dearest cousin. You’ve been spending a lot of time with count Nanami.” Satoru remarked, his voice edged with an irritation that was difficult to ignore. “I see he’s become quite the confidant.”

You looked up from the letter, surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. “He’s been kind to me, Satoru. He’s welcomed me back into the ton with kindness.” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “We’ve exchanged letters, but it’s just a way to stay connected, to find some comfort in this unfamiliar world.”

Satoru’s smile was thin and cold. “You’re aware, I’m sure, that count Nanami’s intentions aren’t as noble as they seem. He’s a man of ambition, just as any man is and you’re merely a means for him to elevate his own status. He’s using you, and yet you seem to take his words to heart.”

The accusation stung, and you felt a surge of defensiveness rise within you. “That’s not fair, Satoru. Count Nanami has always been genuine with me. He’s been nothing but respectful and kind. I don’t believe he’s using me for his own gain.”

Satoru’s expression hardened, his gaze growing colder. “You’re naïve if you think he has no ulterior motives. He may seem kind now, but he’s a count—an ambitious one at that. He sees an opportunity in you, and it’s only a matter of time before he tries to exploit it.”

“I don’t think you understand him at all.” you said, your voice rising with frustration. “Nanami is not like that. He cares about me, and I care about him. Why can’t you accept that?”

Satoru’s eyes flashed with anger, the dark glasses doing little to mask his irritation. “Careful, cousin. It’s one thing to indulge in a fleeting fancy, but it’s another to be so blinded by it that you risk your own position and safety. I’m only trying to protect you.”

“Protect me from what?” you demanded, rising from your seat. “From finding someone who treats me with respect and kindness? Nanami is not a threat—he’s a friend, someone who has shown me a different side of life.”

Satoru stepped closer, his demeanor imposing. “A friend who will inevitably use you to further his own ambitions. I’ve seen this game before, and it’s not one you want to be a part of. If you can’t see that, then I’ll have to make you understand.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and you could feel the walls closing in as Satoru’s anger boiled over. His words were like daggers, each one aimed at driving a wedge between you and Nanami. But despite the fear and the rising sense of dread, you stood firm.

“I won’t let you dictate who I can and cannot befriend,” you said, your voice trembling but resolute. “Nanami is more than his title, and if you can’t see that, then perhaps it’s you who doesn’t understand what’s truly important.”

Satoru’s face darkened, and for a moment, the room was filled with a tense silence. The air was heavy with unspoken words, with the weight of conflicting loyalties and emotions. Finally, he turned on his heel, his frustration evident in his stride.

“Do as you wish, cousin.” he said coldly. “But remember, I warned you. And if you find yourself disappointed, don’t come seeking my sympathy.”

With that, he left the room, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood there, heart racing, the echoes of his harsh words still ringing in your ears. The letter from Nanami lay on the table, a reminder of the solace and understanding you had found in him. Despite Satoru’s anger and warnings, you knew that you couldn’t turn away from the connection you had begun to cherish.

The world outside the estate might be filled with ambition and deceit, but in Nanami’s letters, you had found a glimpse of something real—something worth holding onto, no matter the cost.

A few weeks later, as the seasons shifted and the public gardens came alive with the colors of spring, you found yourself meeting Nanami Kento in a secluded corner of the park. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of bees. The vibrant landscape provided a stark contrast to the somber confines of the estate, and as you walked along the winding paths, your heart felt lighter, freed from the constraints of your daily life.

Nanami awaited you beneath a canopy of flowering trees, their petals drifting down like confetti around him. His eyes lit up with warmth as he saw you approach, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. He offered you a soft smile, his gaze filled with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.

“Your grace,” he said, taking your hand in his as you reached him. His touch was gentle, and he guided you to a nearby bench, where you both sat, the blooming flowers forming a natural backdrop to your intimate conversation.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you remarked, looking around at the garden’s vibrant colors.

“It is, my lady.” Nanami agreed, but his attention was solely on you. He reached for your other hand, holding both of them on his own. “But not as beautiful as you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your cheeks flush, and you glanced down, unable to hide the smile that curved your lips. “You always know how to make me feel special.”

Nanami took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto yours with a seriousness that made your heart race. “There’s something I need to tell you, my lady. I hope I may be so prude as to ask you for your kindness.”

You smiled at him tenderly. “I give you leave, my lord. You need not ask my permission.”

“I….I must be honest with you, my lady.” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “From the moment we first danced together, I knew that you were someone extraordinary. Over the weeks, as we’ve exchanged letters and shared our thoughts, my feelings have only deepened.”

He paused, his fingers tightening around yours. “I am in love with you, more than I’ve ever thought possible. And I intend to marry you, if you’ll have me.”

The words hung in the air, their weight both exhilarating and overwhelming. You stared at him, the truth of his confession sinking in. The garden, the flowers, the world seemed to fall away as you looked into his eyes, seeing the depth of his affection reflected back at you.

“Yes, my lord.” you said breathlessly, your voice filled with emotion. “Yes, I will marry you. I’ve been waiting for someone who sees me for who I am, and who makes me feel truly alive. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Nanami’s eyes softened, and a relieved, joyful smile spread across his face. He pulled you gently into his arms, holding you close as he whispered, “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”

You nestled against him, feeling the warmth of his embrace and the promise of a future together. The garden around you seemed to celebrate with you, the flowers blooming even more brightly, the air filled with a sweet, intoxicating scent. For the first time since your return to the estate, you felt a sense of genuine happiness and hope.

As you looked up at Nanami, the man who had shown you a different side of the world, you knew that this was the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with love, joy, and the promise of a future where you could finally be yourself.

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

YOU HAD NEVER BEEN HAPPIER. The news of your engagement to Nanami Kento spread like wildfire, and by the time of the next grand ball, it was the talk of every guest in the room. The ballroom, usually filled with the hum of polite conversation and the clinking of glasses, was now charged with an air of curiosity and excitement.

Everywhere you looked, people were whispering behind gloved hands, their eyes alight with speculation about the upcoming union between the Duchess and the influential Count. The event, ostensibly a celebration of the merging of two prominent families, felt more like a stage for the spectacle of your new life—a life that had changed so swiftly, it sometimes felt as if you were watching it unfold from a distance.

As you moved through the room, graciously accepting congratulations and well-wishes, you couldn’t help but notice the eyes that followed your every move. Some gazes were filled with admiration, others with envy or curiosity, but all of them were fixated on you, the woman at the center of this momentous occasion.

The weight of their expectations settled on your shoulders, making the air feel heavier, the music louder, the lights brighter. Despite the celebratory atmosphere, a part of you felt detached, as if this wasn’t your life at all, but a role you were playing in a story written by someone else.

Amidst the sea of unfamiliar faces and forced smiles, your eyes were drawn to one figure that stood out from the rest. Satoru. He was present at the ball, his imposing figure a stark contrast to the lively crowd around him.

He cut an imposing figure in his formal attire, his white hair catching the light as he moved with the grace of someone who had long been accustomed to being the center of attention.

Yet, tonight, there was a distance about him, a coldness that had not been there before. He was surrounded by admirers and well-wishers, as always, but even in the midst of the crowd, he remained aloof, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for something—or someone—he could not find.

Your heart ached as you watched him, the memory of your last confrontation still fresh in your mind. The distance between you had grown wider in the weeks since then, an unspoken tension hanging between you like a storm cloud that refused to break.

You longed to mend things, to reach out and bridge the chasm that had formed between you and your cousin, but every time you caught his eye, he looked away, his expression unreadable.

The ball continued around you, the music swelling, the dancers twirling, but your thoughts were with Satoru. The joy that should have accompanied your engagement was tainted by the unresolved tension between you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that something precious was slipping through your fingers. Nanami’s presence beside you was steady, his hand warm on yours, but it was Satoru’s absence—his emotional distance—that gnawed at your heart.

As the night wore on, you found yourself searching for moments when you could catch Satoru’s gaze, hoping to see some sign that he was still the cousin you had grown up with, the one who had always been by your side.

But each time, he remained distant, his walls firmly in place. The chasm between you seemed insurmountable, and as the ball continued, the realization that you might never bridge that gap settled heavily within you.

Yet, despite the ache in your chest, you knew that this night was a turning point, a moment that would define the course of your future. The ball was not just a celebration of your engagement; it was the beginning of a new chapter in your life.

But as you danced with Nanami, his presence comforting and reassuring, your thoughts kept drifting back to Satoru, the one person who should have been standing by your side, sharing in your happiness. Instead, he stood apart, a distant figure on the fringes of your new life, and the pain of that realization was almost more than you could bear.

With a deep breath and a determination to confront the situation, you made your way across the ballroom toward Satoru. The crowd parted slightly, and his gaze met yours as you approached, his dark glasses hiding his true emotions but his posture unmistakably stiff.

“Satoru, dearest cousin.” you began, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you. I’m sorry for how things went the last time we spoke. I didn’t mean to defy you or hurt you.”

He regarded you for a moment, and then his expression softened slightly, though he remained guarded. “I’m sorry too, my lovely cousin.” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I let my frustrations get the better of me. It wasn’t fair to you. I only wanted what I thought was best.”

Before you could respond, Nanami approached, his presence a calming contrast to the tension between you and Satoru. He offered a warm smile to both of you and extended a hand in greeting. Nanami then shifts his face, looking towards your own cousin.

“Is everything alright?” Nanami asked, his tone gentle and concerned.

Satoru glanced at Nanami, then back at you, and after a brief pause, he nodded. “Yes, everything is fine, my lord. I was just about to make a toast in honor of the engagement.”

He signaled to the servants, who quickly moved to bring in bottles of wine and glasses. The murmur of the crowd grew as they sensed something significant was about to happen.

With a gracious nod, Satoru raised his glass, and the room fell into expectant silence. His gaze shifted between you and Nanami, and though he spoke with his usual composure, there was a sincerity in his tone that was hard to ignore.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my gracious lords and ladies.” Satoru began, his voice carrying through the ballroom. “Tonight, we celebrate not only the union of two distinguished families but also the beginning of a new chapter in the lives of these two wonderful people. To my cousin, the duchess, and to my lord count Nanami Kento, I offer my heartfelt congratulations.”

He turned to you and Nanami, his smile warm but tinged with an underlying complexity. “May your life together be filled with happiness and prosperity. May you find joy and support in one another through all the challenges and triumphs that lie ahead.”

The room erupted in applause, a cascade of sound that seemed to envelop you from all sides. The clinking of glasses followed, a symphony of celebration that filled the grand hall, yet in the midst of it all, your heart was racing with a blend of emotions you could barely contain.

Relief washed over you like a cool breeze, cutting through the tension that had been knotted in your chest for what felt like an eternity. The applause wasn’t just for the announcement of your engagement—it was for the moment of reconciliation that had just played out before everyone’s eyes.

Satoru’s gesture, though unexpected, had sent a ripple through the gathered guests. His choice to stand and raise his glass in a toast, his expression carefully composed but unmistakably sincere, was more than just a public acknowledgment of your engagement.

It was a sign—a signal that he was willing to accept your choice, even if it pained him to do so. For so long, the distance between you had been a source of quiet anguish, an unspoken rift that neither of you had known how to bridge. But in that moment, with everyone watching, Satoru had taken the first step toward closing that gap, and the weight of that gesture settled over you with a mix of gratitude and sadness.

You felt Nanami’s hand tighten around yours, the warmth of his touch grounding you amidst the swirl of emotions. When you looked up at him, his expression was calm, yet there was a depth in his eyes that spoke of an unspoken understanding.

He didn’t need to ask what you were feeling; he knew. He had always known. Nanami’s quiet strength, the steadiness that had drawn you to him in the first place, was your anchor in this moment. His support was unwavering, his presence a silent promise that he would stand by you through whatever came next.

The applause continued, but the world around you seemed to blur, the faces and voices fading into the background as you focused on the two men who meant the most to you—one by your side, offering you a future, and the other across the room, finally offering you his acceptance. There was a bittersweet quality to the moment, a recognition that while you were stepping into a new life with Nanami, something else was being left behind.

As you smiled and nodded in response to the well-wishes of the guests, the gratitude you felt wasn’t just for the applause or the approval of those around you. It was for the unexpected turn of events that had allowed a measure of peace to be restored between you and Satoru, even if things would never be quite the same as they once were.

The mix of relief and gratitude in your heart was tinged with a quiet resolve—to honor the connections that had brought you to this point and to move forward with grace, knowing that you were not alone in this journey.

In that moment, with Nanami’s hand in yours and Satoru’s gaze finally softened by acceptance, you allowed yourself to breathe, to feel the weight of the past lift just enough to let you take the next step forward. The path ahead was still uncertain, but with Nanami by your side and the lingering warmth of Satoru’s gesture in your heart, you felt ready to face whatever lay ahead.

“Thank you, Satoru." you said softly, raising your own glass in acknowledgment. “Your words mean a great deal to us.”

Satoru inclined his head slightly, acknowledging your gratitude, and then turned to mingle with other guests, leaving you and Nanami to share a moment of quiet reflection.

The evening continued with renewed energy, and as you danced with Nanami, you felt a sense of peace, knowing that despite the challenges, you were surrounded by people who cared for you and were willing to bridge the gaps that had formed.

As the night continued, the ball's festivities seemed to intensify, with guests dancing and chatting in high spirits. But amidst the celebration, you noticed that Nanami appeared increasingly pale and uncomfortable. His hand, which had been warm and reassuring in yours, grew cold, and he occasionally grimaced, as if battling an unseen pain.

Concerned, you guided him to a quieter corner of the ballroom, away from the crowd. “Kento, my love.....are you alright?” you asked, your voice filled with worry.

He tried to smile, but the effort was clearly painful. “It’s nothing, my darling.” he said, though his voice was strained. “I’ve just been feeling a bit unwell lately. It’s probably nothing.”

You helped him to a nearby chair, your hands trembling as you guided him down. But as soon as he sat, you noticed something terribly wrong. His face contorted with discomfort, his brows knitting together as a pained gasp escaped his lips.

His breathing grew shallow and labored, each breath a struggle that sent a jolt of fear through you. His hand moved to clutch his stomach, his fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as if trying to ward off an invisible agony. His skin glistened with sweat, and his once calm and steady demeanor was replaced by something raw and unsettling.

Before you could even react, his body suddenly slumped, going limp in the chair. The color drained from his face, his eyes fluttering shut as if the strength had been completely sapped from him. Panic surged through you like a bolt of lightning, your heart racing as you dropped to your knees beside him. “Kento!” you cried, your voice thick with fear, hands shaking as you desperately tried to rouse him. But he didn’t respond—his eyes remained closed, his body frighteningly still.

Frantically, you called out for help, your voice breaking as terror gripped you. The noise of the ballroom, once lively with chatter and laughter, fell into a stunned silence. The sudden shift in the atmosphere was palpable, as if the entire room had collectively held its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

Satoru was among the first to arrive, his tall figure cutting through the crowd with an urgency that matched your own. His usual easygoing demeanor was nowhere to be seen; instead, his expression shifted from confusion to alarm as he took in the scene before him. His gaze darted between you and Nanami, the gravity of the situation sinking in as he knelt beside you, his own hands hovering over Nanami’s still form, unsure of what to do.

A doctor, who had been attending the event, quickly rushed over, pushing through the gathering crowd with a determined expression. You watched in desperate anticipation as the doctor knelt on Nanami’s other side, his fingers moving quickly to check for a pulse, to feel for any sign of life. His face grew increasingly grave as the seconds ticked by, his lips pressing into a thin line.

The minutes dragged on, each one feeling like an eternity as the doctor worked, his movements precise yet tinged with a growing sense of urgency. The room’s tension mirrored the heartache building within you, a crushing weight that threatened to overwhelm you. Every second that passed without a sign of improvement, every quiet murmur from the doctor that you couldn’t quite hear, only deepened the pit of dread in your stomach.

The once festive atmosphere of the ball had been completely shattered, replaced by a chilling silence that seemed to echo your worst fears. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the cold, terrifying reality that the man you loved was slipping away, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Finally, the doctor straightened, his expression sorrowful. “I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do, your grace.” he said quietly. “Count Nanami is dead.”

The words struck you like a physical blow, leaving you momentarily paralyzed as their meaning sank in. It was as if the ground beneath your feet had been pulled out from under you, and you were left to freefall into a void of disbelief and despair.

You stared at Nanami’s lifeless form, his face pale and still, the strong and steady man you had known reduced to this fragile, unresponsive shell. It didn’t seem real—couldn’t be real. The vibrant world around you blurred, the colors bleeding into one another as your vision wavered. The music that had once filled the ballroom, the laughter that had echoed off the walls, now seemed like a distant, haunting memory from another life.

The sounds around you dulled, as if you were underwater, the cacophony of voices and gasps of disbelief fading into a muffled, indistinct hum. The air felt thick, suffocating, as if it were pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe.

The reality of the situation was too much to comprehend, too overwhelming to process. Nanami, who had been so full of life just moments ago, was now gone. The finality of it was like a weight crushing your heart, and you felt as if you were being dragged into a darkness from which there was no escape.

Satoru placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, a gesture meant to offer solace, but it only deepened the emptiness that had settled in your chest. His touch, usually so warm and reassuring, felt hollow and distant, as if even he couldn’t bridge the chasm that had opened up between the life you had known and the unbearable reality you now faced.

You didn’t look up at him, couldn’t bear to see the reflection of your own grief in his eyes. Instead, you remained fixated on Nanami, your mind desperately trying to reject the truth, to find some way to undo what had just happened.

The guests, who had been caught up in the joy and excitement of the evening, were now stunned into silence. Their expressions of shock and somber concern mirrored the confusion and heartache you felt. The whispers began to spread through the room, a low murmur that grew in intensity as people tried to make sense of the tragedy that had unfolded before them.

The once celebratory atmosphere had been shattered, replaced by a palpable sense of unease and sorrow. The collective joy that had filled the ballroom had evaporated, leaving behind only the cold, stark reality of loss.

As you stood there, your mind spinning and your heart breaking, the world around you continued to move forward, indifferent to the pain you were experiencing. The echoes of the music and laughter that had once filled the room now seemed like cruel reminders of a happiness that had been irrevocably taken from you.

The life you had imagined with Nanami Kento, the future you had so carefully envisioned, was gone in an instant, leaving you adrift in a sea of grief and uncertainty. Nothing was left behind.

You clutched Nanami’s hand, tears streaming down your face. “No, cousin....I....I cannot....” you whispered to him. “This can’t be happening. He was just here. We were about to start our life together.”

Satoru’s voice was gentle but firm. “We need to get you out of here, you cannot stay here.” he said, guiding you away from the scene with a sense of urgency. “Come with me.”

As you were led out of the ballroom, your mind was a whirlwind of grief and disbelief. The promise of a future with Nanami had been abruptly stolen from you, leaving you with nothing but the crushing weight of loss. The vibrant night that had once held so much promise now felt like a cruel mockery, its joy eclipsed by the shadow of tragedy.

✧❁❁❁✧✿✿✿✧❁❁❁✧

YOU COULD NOT COPE WELL. Months had passed since Nanami’s tragic death, and despite the time that had elapsed, the ache in your heart remained as fresh as ever. The estate, once filled with the excitement of the engagement and the promise of a future, now seemed like a silent, mournful shell. Each day felt like an endless repetition of grief, with memories of Nanami lingering painfully in every corner.

Satoru, your cousin and now your closest family, had tried to coax you back to some semblance of normalcy. He encouraged you to attend social events, to engage with the world beyond the estate’s walls. But each time, you found yourself unable to muster the strength or the will. The world outside felt alien and unforgiving, a stark contrast to the warmth and hope you had once known with Nanami.

One evening, after yet another failed attempt to persuade you to join him for a dinner gathering, Satoru’s patience finally wore thin. His frustration, masked for so long, burst forth in an outburst that left you reeling.

“Why can’t you just move on?” he demanded, his voice sharp. “It’s been months. You can’t spend the rest of your life hiding away in this grief-stricken state.”

The words stung, and you felt a surge of anger and sadness collide within you. “You don’t understand,” you cried, tears streaming down your face. “You didn’t lose him. You don’t know what it’s like to have everything ripped away like that.”

Satoru’s expression softened, a flicker of regret in his eyes as he saw the depth of your pain. The harshness in his voice faded as he approached you, his demeanor shifting to one of concern and gentleness.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice now filled with an earnestness that cut through the earlier anger. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh. I’ve been trying to help, but I know I can’t truly understand your pain.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand and guiding you to a nearby armchair. His touch was soothing, a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil you were feeling. “Let me help you,” he said softly, kneeling beside you. “I know this is hard, but you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Satoru’s presence was a grounding force, his usual aloofness replaced by a sincere attempt to offer comfort. He poured a drink from a decanter on a nearby table, holding it out to you with a reassuring smile. “Here,” he said, “a little something to help calm your nerves.”

You accepted the drink, your hands trembling slightly. As you took a sip, the warmth of the liquor began to ease the tight knot of grief in your chest. Satoru settled beside you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, the gesture tender and supportive. “I know it’s not the same as having Nanami here,” he said quietly, “but I’m here for you. We can get through this together, even if it takes time.”

You leaned into him, finding solace in his steady presence. The tears continued to flow, but amidst the sorrow, there was a small flicker of hope—hope that perhaps, with time and the support of those who cared for you, the heavy burden of grief might one day become a little lighter.

Satoru stayed with you, his hand resting gently on your back as you cried. In that moment, his support and understanding offered a sliver of comfort, a reminder that even in the depths of loss, there could be moments of compassion and connection.

The truth began to unravel slowly, almost imperceptibly. You had been grieving, struggling to find any semblance of normalcy, and trying to rebuild a life that seemed forever altered by Nanami’s death. Satoru, in his way, had been both a source of comfort and a persistent presence, urging you toward recovery. His support, once reassuring, began to feel increasingly intrusive, as though his concern masked something darker.

One evening, as you were going through some old letters and personal effects, a hidden compartment in one of Nanami’s personal belongings caught your attention. Inside, you found a stack of letters and documents that seemed out of place. As you sifted through them, a particular letter stood out—a letter from Nanami to you, written shortly before his death. Its contents were cryptic and filled with a sense of unease that made your heart race.

The letter spoke of suspicions of being watched, of a growing sense of danger, and a mention of a mysterious figure who had been lingering in the shadows. That evil forces were coming, investigated by the Crown. That he was a blue shadow, a dark shadow. You put the letter down, your chest tightening.

The pieces of the puzzle began to click together in your mind, and a chilling realization dawned on you. Satoru, he...he was called the Queen's Blue Ghost. That was what he does for the Crown. You bit the lower edges of your lip. You could feel your legs losing strength as you grabbed the table to balance yourself.

You shake your head, almost as though you were in denial. It can't be. Your cousin....He would not. He promised, that he would always be good to you. To everyone. He, he can't be.

Desperate for answers, you confronted Satoru, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and anger. You cornered him in his private study, your voice trembling as you demanded the truth. He raised his head and smiled at you. But quickly, that retreated the moment he saw that look on your face.

"Cousin, is something wrong? Dearest one, you are agitated. You must—"

“Satoru, please.” you said, trying to keep your composure. “I require your honesty. Please. I need to know the truth."

"Whatever about? I have always been honest with you."

"Not on everything. And you know this. I know this."

"Dearest cousin, calm down—"

"What really happened to Nanami Kento? About the others. How many? How many others did you hurt?"

Satoru’s face, usually so controlled, betrayed a flicker of something dark and unsettling. He stepped closer to you, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. The moment you said his name, the moment it all snapped. You could feel your heart pound as he corners you, traps you, in his vicinity. You swallow the bile down your throat.

“The truth, you say?” he replied, his voice smooth but laced with a dangerous edge. “I’m afraid you might not like it, cousin. I fear I might upset you. And....that is out of the question."

You took a step back, the fear overwhelming you. “What did you do? I know you had something to do with it. Did you poison him?”

A cold smile spread across Satoru’s lips. “You’ve been more perceptive than I gave you credit for,” he said softly. “Yes, I was responsible. But it was all for you, my dear cousin.”

The words struck you like a blow. “For me? What are you talking about?”

Satoru’s gaze softened, but the malice beneath it was unmistakable. “I’ve always been in love with you. Even when we were children, I was captivated by you. Everything I did, every action I took, was driven by my desire to have you for myself. And I do not care, how many suffers for it. That lowly count, those pesky tattletales. I do not care, cousin. As long as I have you. ”

The enormity of his confession hit you with a force that left you reeling. “You killed my Kento… just to have me? Do you....do you know how derange that is? How could you? How could you do this to me?”

He stepped closer, his voice a whisper that was both chilling and intimate. “No one else could ever be right for you but me. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else taking you away from me. Nanami was an obstacle, and I removed him to clear the path for us.”

Horrified and desperate, you tried to flee, but Satoru’s reflexes were swift. He grabbed your arm with a strength that was both frightening and unyielding. You struggled against him, but his grip only tightened as he pulled you close. Your heart pounded, and tears streamed down your face as you realized the extent of his obsession.

“Let me go!” you cried, your voice breaking with desperation. “I can’t be with you. Not after this.”

Satoru held you tightly, his arms encircling you in a possessive embrace. “No,” he said firmly, his voice unyielding. “You belong with me. I’ve waited too long for this moment, and I won’t let anyone—least of all you—deny what’s meant to be.”

His words, though tender in their own twisted way, were laced with a darkness that left you feeling trapped and helpless. You could see the unshakable resolve in his eyes, the certainty that he was the only one who could provide the life he believed you deserved.

“I did it all for you, dearest one.” Satoru continued, his tone a mix of reverence and obsession. “Everything I did, every sacrifice, was to ensure that we could be together. You’ll see, in time, that no one else can care for you the way I do.”

It was as though for a moment, your memories echoed. That boy Satoru was, the distant and aloof boy you had looked up to, chased after — he was not there anymore. All that’s left is a monster. A monster who believed that loving you meant hurting you. Tears fell as you remember the boy he was.

The large, sunlit gardens were a backdrop to a series of memories, each one highlighting the contrast between your vibrant, spirited nature and Satoru’s reserved, emotionless disposition.

You were only six years old when you first encountered Satoru’s indifference. He was sitting alone in a secluded corner of the garden, surrounded by books and sketches, seemingly lost in a world of his own. His silver hair gleamed in the sunlight, but his eyes, hidden behind dark glasses even then, were as cold and distant as the surrounding shadows.

Despite his aloofness, you were determined to reach out to him. You approached him with a bright smile, holding a daisy you had picked from the garden. “Satoru,” you called out, “would you like to play with me?”

He glanced up briefly, his expression unreadable. “I’m busy,” he replied curtly, his voice lacking warmth.

Undeterred, you sat down next to him, placing the daisy on his sketchpad. “But it’s such a nice day! Don’t you want to come outside and enjoy it?”

He stared at the daisy, then at you, a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity or irritation—crossing his face. “I don’t see the point in playing,” he said, turning his attention back to his sketches.

You persisted, your enthusiasm unwavering. “It’s not just about playing. It’s about having fun and being together. We can make up a story about the garden and pretend we’re explorers!”

“I don’t want to.” He whispered.

You pout. “But that’s no fun!”

As a young girl, you were determined to break through Satoru’s emotional barriers. One sunny afternoon in the grand estate’s garden, you devised a simple, yet heartfelt plan. You had spent the morning picking a variety of wildflowers, their vibrant colors brightening your small wicker basket. You were excited to surprise Satoru, who was once again immersed in his books and sketches in his usual secluded spot.

The garden was alive with the hum of bees and the soft rustling of leaves, and the sunlight filtered through the trees, casting playful shadows on the ground. You spotted Satoru sitting against a large oak tree, his focus intensely fixed on his work. With a smile, you approached him quietly, careful not to disturb his concentration.

“Satoru,” you called softly, holding up the flower crown you had made. It was a simple creation, woven from a mix of daisies, buttercups, and clover. The flowers were arranged in a delicate, colorful circle, their petals still fresh and dewy from the morning sun.

He looked up from his sketchpad, his expression as indifferent as ever, but a hint of curiosity sparkled in his eyes. “What’s that?” he asked, his tone more inquisitive than dismissive.

You knelt beside him, holding the flower crown out. “It’s a gift for you.” you said cheerfully. “I made it just for you. I thought you might like to wear it.”

Satoru’s usual aloofness seemed to falter as he took in the sight of the flower crown. There was a brief flicker of surprise in his eyes, a momentary break in his emotional armor. He looked at the crown, then back at you, clearly unsure of how to react.

Without waiting for his response, you gently placed the flower crown on his head, adjusting it carefully so that it sat comfortably. Your fingers brushed against his hair, and you beamed at him with an innocent, genuine smile.

“There!” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “Now you have a crown fit for a king.”

Satoru’s initial reaction was one of shock, his mouth slightly agape as he touched the delicate flowers with hesitant fingers. The corners of his mouth twitched, and for a brief moment, you saw a rare, genuine smile break through his usually stoic expression. It was a fleeting, but unmistakable, expression of delight.

He looked up at you, his eyes softer than they had ever been. “You made this for me?” he asked, his voice betraying a hint of warmth that was seldom present.

“Yes, cousin!” you replied, your eyes sparkling with happiness. “I wanted to do something nice for you. I thought it might brighten your day.”

Satoru’s gaze lingered on you, and you could see the conflicted emotions playing across his face. The flower crown, so simple and yet so heartfelt, seemed to have touched him in a way you hadn’t anticipated. He looked away, his expression growing contemplative.

“It’s… nice.” he said quietly, a hint of genuine appreciation in his tone. “Thank you.”

You smiled, pleased with his reaction. “I’m glad you like it, cousin!” you said, reaching out to gently touch the crown. “I hope it makes you smile.”

As you walked away, you felt a sense of accomplishment. You had managed to break through Satoru’s emotional wall, if only for a moment, and the sight of him wearing the flower crown was a memory you would cherish. Little did you know that this simple act of kindness would become a significant, albeit bittersweet, part of your lives.

The contrast between the boy who had once been so distant and the man who now held you captive was stark and painful. The memories of your childhood—the times you had tried so hard to reach out to him, to bridge the gap that had always seemed to exist between you—now echoed in your mind like a cruel mockery.

Those moments, once filled with innocent hope and longing, now served as a haunting reminder of how drastically things had deteriorated. The boy who had seemed unreachable, who you had thought might one day come around, had instead grown into someone who was both terrifyingly close and dangerously unrecognizable.

As you struggled in his arms, the harsh reality of your situation became all too clear. Satoru’s love, which had once been a source of warmth and comfort, had twisted into something dark and all-consuming. The affection that had once made you feel safe was now a prison, its walls closing in around you with every passing second.

The realization that his love had warped into an obsession sent chills down your spine, and the fear that gripped your heart was unlike anything you had ever known. You had always known Satoru was different, that there was something in him that set him apart, but never had you imagined that his feelings for you could turn into something so possessive, so terrifying.

His grip on you was unrelenting, his arms a cage that you knew you could not break free from. No matter how hard you struggled, how desperately you tried to push him away, his hold only tightened. There was no trace of the gentle boy you had known in his eyes now—only the cold, determined gaze of a man who would not be denied.

As he held you close, you could feel the weight of his obsession pressing down on you, suffocating you with its intensity. The warmth that had once drawn you to him had been replaced by a chilling darkness, and the love that had once been your sanctuary had become the source of your greatest fear.

A profound sense of betrayal and loss settled over you, heavy and unyielding. The man who had once been your closest confidant, your protector, had now become the architect of your greatest sorrow.

The trust you had placed in him, the bond you had thought unbreakable, had been shattered beyond repair. The future you had dreamed of, filled with hope and happiness, was now overshadowed by the bleak reality of his possessive love.

In that moment, as you were held captive in his arms, you understood with a heartbreaking clarity that the Satoru you had known was gone, replaced by someone you could no longer recognize.

The boy who had once been distant, yet filled with potential, had become a man whose love had turned into a dark obsession, and the life you had once envisioned was now lost to the shadows of his twisted affection.

“I waited so long for this day, to have you free from the nuns, from the watchful eyes of the church, from anyone who would keep you from me." He whispered. “And I had to deal with that pest, that lowly pathetic count. All of those who wanted to steal you from me!”

The air in the room thickened as he stepped closer, his breath brushing against your skin. You knew what he wanted, what he had always wanted. It was written in the way he looked at you, the way his fingers twitched as if resisting the urge to reach out and claim you right then and there.

But you were no longer a child, no longer the naive girl who would blindly follow where he led. You were a Duchess now, with power of your own, and you would not be so easily consumed by the flames of his obsession.

Yet, as his hand finally found its way to your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze, you couldn’t help but feel the pull. The twisted, sick desire that mirrored his own, the yearning to give in to the darkness that had always lurked beneath the surface of your soul.

"You will be mine, cousin." Gojo whispered, his lips hovering above yours. "Whether you like it or not."

You were drawn to him, as you had been as a child. The way he moved, the way he spoke—it He reached for you, his hands rough yet strangely tender as they cupped your face, his grip firm and unyielding.

Before you could react, his lips crashed against yours with a force that stole your breath. You struggled, tried to push him away, but he was stronger—much stronger. Your fists pounded weakly against his chest, a futile attempt to break free from the iron hold he had on you.

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks as you felt the helplessness of the situation, the weight of his obsession bearing down on you. But even as your mind screamed in protest, there was a part of you that responded to his touch, a dark, twisted part that had long been buried beneath years of repression.

His hands roamed over your body with a fervor that mirrored the storm brewing inside you, fingers tracing the curves of your form as if memorizing every inch. He pulled you closer, his embrace tightening until there was no space left between your bodies, the heat of his desire searing through your clothes, igniting a fire deep within you.

You hated yourself for the way your body betrayed you, for the way your heart raced not only with fear but with a sick anticipation. You could feel the hunger in his touch, the same hunger that had lurked within you, hidden and denied for so long.

Gojo’s lips trailed down your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake, his breath hot against your skin. His words were a whispered promise, laced with a dark possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine.

"You can’t escape me, cousin." he murmured against your throat, his voice thick with desire. "I’ve waited too long, dreamed of this moment for too many nights. You’re mine now, and I’ll never let you go."

His hands slipped beneath the fabric of your dress, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin beneath as he explored with an urgency that left no room for doubt. You gasped, the sound caught between a sob and something else, something far more dangerous.

As his touch grew bolder, you realized with a sickening clarity that no matter how hard you fought, no matter how many tears you shed, you were losing yourself to him. The line between love and hate, between desire and fear, blurred until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began.

Gojo pulled back just enough to look into your tear-streaked face, his eyes darkened with a twisted satisfaction. His thumb brushed away the tears that still fell, a cruel smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Don’t cry, my dearest." he whispered, his voice laced with mockery and something softer, something almost tender. "You’ll learn to love this, to love me, just as I’ve always loved you."

And as his lips claimed yours once more, the last vestiges of your resistance crumbled, swallowed whole by the darkness that he had nurtured within you, until all that was left was the Duchess who belonged to the Duke—no matter the cost.

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themikumasterlist · 8 months ago

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2022 Racing Miku

Directed by Shigeto Koyama

Art and Design by neco

#2022 miku #2022 racing miku #hatsune miku #miku masterlist

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caffinatednightmare · 2 months ago

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I'm thinking Miku, Miku (oo-ee-oo)

based off that one fig... u know the one. dreamie

#the link is SUPPOSED to be a fun masterlist of this challenge im doinh #posting every drawing of miku i make with another lyric #but randomly now the links keep breaking for no reason so #</3 #hatsune miku #miku fanart #miku lyric art challenge #hatsune miku fanart #vocaloid hatsune #molten hot! magma boards #im p sure the og fig is a garage kit (?)#i want it someday but i have no idea how id track it down TvT

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im-probably-playing-genshin · 4 months ago

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KANDI SINGLETS IDEASS!!

masterlist? idrk :P

Character names

Oc names

CURSE WORDS YEAH!!

Song titles

"ur/yr/your mom"

"Loopy"

"Womp womp"

"Blah Blah Blah"

"Yapper/Yapping"

(abbreviations) Lol, Lmao, jk, afk, oml, etc

Text faces (XP, XD, X3, TWT, ETC)

"Ermmm"

"What the sigma"

"Space dust"

"Cosmos/cosmic"

"Froggie/froggy"

"Smokey"

"Dead"

"Zombie"

"Ghost"

Holidays (Halloween, Christmas, any other holidays)

Movie quote

"Ok boomer"

"Bbg/Babygirl"

"Bruh"

"Dude"

"Girlypop"

Brand names

"XOXO"

"Scene queen/king/royal"

Zodiac signs

Your @ online

"Sun" and "Moon"

"Star/stars"

"Nerd"

"Geek"

Animals

Your religion (ex: Christian, Pagan, Muslim, Etc)

Pride identities (genderfluid, trans, bi, etc)

"Bugs" (or any specific bug!!)

"Popcat"

Game names

Ship names

Colors

Greek Gods (or any other gods)

The name of your childhood plushie

"Princess/prince"

"Jester"

"Freaky"

Foods

"Y2K"

"Miku"

"Pumpkin"

"Bats"

"Sunflower"

"Elf"

"Art"

"Rabies"

"Goober"

"Silly Billy"

"Boykisser/Girlkisser/Theykisser"

"Dilligaf"

"Divorce"

"The Gay Agenda"

"___Core"

"Coquette"

"F U (person you dont like)"

Animal crossing villagers

"gyatt".

"You and me" & "Always Forever"

"Fall"

"August" (NOT THE ONE FROM YOUNG ROYALS)

"Spring"

"Infection"

"Infestation"

"Ratio"

"L Bozo"

"Zzzz" (like snoring)

"Pebbles"

"Bubbles"

"Rocks"

"Leaves"

"Eyes"

"Decora"

"Goth"

"Worm"

Types of fish

"Love"

"Hate"

"PLUR"

"Clown"

"2000s B1TCH"

"Rainbow"

"Flames"

"Plague"

"Sage"

"Fern"

App names

"LGBTQ"

"Mushroom"

"Hot Topic"

"Moth"

"Ladybug"

"Cricuit"

"Marker"

"Pen"

"Pencil"

"Saturn"

"Jupiter"

"Earth"

"Mother"

"Father"

"Neptune"

"Bees"

"Rhinestones"

"Crystals"

"Punk"

"Possum"

"Pinecone"

"Acorn"

"Cauldron"

Reptiles

"Adhd/autism/bpd/anxiety/any neurodivergency you have"

"Lover"

"Cutesy"

"Demure"

"Mindful"

"Peace"

"Gold"

"Silver"

"Bronze"

Sanrio characters

"Weezer"

"Buddy Holly"

"Pearl"

"Waffles"

"Pancakes"

"Sharpie"

Body Parts

"Nirvana"

"Regretavator"

"Rawr"

"Kitty"

"Bingo"

Pet names

The name of your first pet

The way your first hamster died

"Plague"

"Famine"

"War"

Various weapons

"Candy"

Chocolate brands

Candy brands

"Taste the rainbow"

"Animal cannibal"

"Furry/therian"

Your theriotype

"Alterhuman"

"Otherkin"

"Dessert"

"Ribbons"

"Balloons"

"Supercalafragileisticexpialadocious"

Various diseases

"Help"

Various crimes

"Robbery"

"Gambling/Gambler"

"Corny"

"Abomanation"

Different tracks from toh

Your pjo cabin

Harry potter house

"FUCK JKR"

Various weathers

"Rain"

"Ginger"

"Drywall"

"Bill Cipher"

"Piss Yellow"

Youtubers

Social media apps

Makeup brands

"Cartoons"

Kids cartoons

Your hobby

"Skateboard"

"FCK CAPITALISM/RACISM/HOMOPHOBIA/BIGOTRY/TRANSPHOIA"

"e dance"

"Invader Zim"

"Potions"

"Queer"

"My Melody" & "Kuromi"

"Duck"

"Bike"

"Raver"

"Cults"

"Griddy"

The 7 deadly sins

ADDING MORE SOON!!

#kandi #kandi ideas #scenecore #scene #emo scene #scene kid #2000s scene #scemo #kandi bracelet #kandi kid #kandi cuff #kandicore

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suhkusa · 5 months ago

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SECRET ALLIANCE — THEWURLDISMINE

PREV | MASTERLIST| NEXT

NOTES.

dark mode = mysmatch

many miku references yesyes

sakusa regrets his first text because it seems too stern and y/n was the first person he matched with

it’s not winter bokuto’s confused but he got spirit, it’s spring

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smau #sakusa x reader #sakusa angst #sakusa smau #raeworks #hq angst #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa fanfic #haikyuu x reader smau #hq smau

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kaylopolis · 7 months ago

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Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Six

Alastor x F!Reader, Alias: Thestral

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power…

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

____________________________________________

Author note: Dear Hoteliers, VOX IS BACK BABY!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Six - A Stroll

Content Warning: Obsession, Choking, Graphic Sexual Scenes Involving Violence, Self Harm, Minors DNI!

Vox poured a cup of coffee into his “Fuck Alastor” mug and whistled as he exited the penthouse suite, heading for his office.

“What has him in such a cheery mood this mornin’, hmm?” Val asks from his spot on the couch, flipping through various channels on the television. The moth demon sipped from his own “Pimpin’ Not Simpin” mug.

Velvette sat on the edge of the countertop, a new phone in hand, tapping away. “Something about his mysterious Alley Girl. How the Hell should I know?”

“The bitch staying with Alastor?” Valentino adjusted his rose glasses.

“Yup.”

Val took another sip of his mug, before finally flipping to 666 News. “I can’t even get that lanky prick to return my calls, and Mr. Flat Screen thinks he can romance one of Charlie’s Redeemers without pissing off the Smiling Freak?”

Velvette finally puts the phone away. Grabbing her own coffee cup, she jumps over the back of the couch to join Valentino in watching the morning broadcast. “At least he’s movin’ on.” She shrugs. “If I have to hear him bitch one more time about Al…”

The television chimed, interrupting their conversation and announcing the start of a special broadcast. “Travis Miku, a former employee of V Tower Productions, was found burnt to a crisp this morning just outside the Entertainment District…”

Val spit his coffee across the room. “What!?”

____________________________________________

“Okay, Scales,” you laugh, pouring the coconut milk into the cup.

“Ay’, nicknames are my thang, Hair clip!” Angel scolded from his seat at the table.

“What do you think of this?” You spun, sending the cappuccino flying down the table. It sailed with such force that it flew right past the snake demon and crashed onto the tile floor next to a pair of black and red dress shoes. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice the run of static down your spine.

Fuck.

“My, it seems I have stumbled across the old rough and tumble this morning,” the demon’s radio clicks onto a smooth jazz before he slips into his apron and starts the stove. He’s in a good mood.

You’re frozen in place for a moment, very aware of the Radio Demon standing right next to you and the mere inches the coffee cup had to spare before acosting him. The room has gone silent, nervously awaiting the Radio Demon and his temper. Yet, it doesn’t come.

Your eyes flit down to his red and black shoes - not a speck on them - you wouldn’t - couldn’t - make eye contact with the demon. Especially after last night. Your cheeks heat with the memory of his lips on yours.

Fucking Hell. You’ve never experienced this before. You’ve never wanted to do… sexual things. It wasn’t in your nature. Dad raised you on the belief that anything before marriage was a sin and so you spent the majority of your life believing the same thing. When you finally were free of him you found that you just didn’t have any interest. Not in men or women. It just wasn’t something you thought of.

Your closest friend tried to talk you into it, she was as promiscuous as they get - she’d rival even Adam’s body count - but you just didn’t really want to. She’d go off and sleep with whatever had two legs, while you’d prefer a good book and a glass of wine in your bed.

Now? Your thoughts and feelings towards those things were getting… confusing. Alastor was making those things confusing and you really hated to admit that.

White-knuckled, the demon whipped a few eggs - clearly holding back his agitation from your almost attack. You wondered what it would take to break his smile, get him to try and frown for once. You wondered what you would have to do to wipe that smirk off his face…

Oh, and part of you would love to try but another part knows you needed to get on his good side.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you grab a towel to…

“Oh, no, allow me, darling,” he snaps his finger and the pile of destroyed ceramic disappears.

You swallow, “Thank you.” Turning back to the machine, you begin a new cup for Pentious and a hot cup of chai coffee for Alastor, listening awkwardly to the demon humming beside you.

“So…” Husk starts. “Heard you were heading to Mimzy’s today.”

“I am,” you and the Radio Demon respond at the same time. His radio skips a beat, the jazz song turning to static as he meets your eye - God, that was starting to get annoying. His left eye twitches ever so slightly betraying his mask of a smile.

You side eye the barkeep over your shoulder. You knew what he was doing. He was tasked to watch after you, which meant reporting your movements, especially when it involved the Overlord’s acquaintances - not cool Husk, not cool.

“And what business would you have with ~my~ darling Mimzy?” Alastor’s radio clicked back to a smooth jazz. Did he play anything else?

My Mimzy? MY?

“Just picking up a few things,” you turn back to the coffee, doing your best to concentrate on your coconut creation and the chai brewing next to it.

“Seems we will be running in the same circles today then, Ms. Thestral,” his voice purrs.

“Seems we will,” you wipe the rim of the cup before turning to the table, mugs in hand. You kept your eyes down, not wanting to catch Alastor’s gaze.

Perhaps if you coordinated, you could find a time to get to the club when Alastor wouldn’t be there…

“Care to join me?” The demon purred.

Your heart sank through your stomach and onto the floor. You practically dropped the mugs in your hand before setting them gently on the table. Finally, your eyes caught his.

He looked rather domestic like this - frilly pink apron, spatula in hand. If no one knew who you were they’d think you a couple, getting ready for a quiet breakfast at home. Good thing your audience knew better. You were more likely to kill each other than anything else. And, underneath all of that, the demon looked utterly exhausted…

You shoot him your prettiest, most sincere smile, fighting the blush creeping up your neck. “I would be delighted,” you answer through gritted teeth.

“Delightful,” the demon beams at you, his irises lighting up like crimson crystals.

Angel leans over to whisper to Husk, “What is happening?”

“Breakfast!” Alastor abruptly drops the pan, making the entire room jump. “Enjoy.”

The three blink before digging in, doing their best to ignore whatever pissing contest you and Alastor had found yourselves in - except for Angel. The Porn Star loved drama.

The Radio Demon leans in, his gaze boring into you. You feel something tickle the peripherpy of your power. It wasn’t his shadow and it wasn’t him probing your power. It felt like his radio static had brushed up against your fire, like a caresse across your skin. It was eerily similar to the feeling you got when you and he made the deal atop the radio tower.

Could he feel that too?

Your cheeks heated as he came closer, his gaze suddenly changed. From a look of pure anger to something else… “You’re not afraid of me.”

The statement sent a shiver down your spine.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned in closer, pushing all thoughts of his lips from your mind, of his hands on your throat, of his thigh between your legs, his chest flush with yours… “Seems Charlie left that part out of the tour.” You smirked, your red lipstick contrasting against your white teeth. You wished you had more prominent canines for a situation such as this.

God, why did Alastor make you feel so… so… angry!? That was the only way to describe what was happening. He made you angry.

He laughed, a deep rumble from his chest, not the fake showman’s laugh you normally heard from him. His face lit up in a way you hadn’t seen before from the Overlord. Then he fell silent, uncharacteristically so. His eyes dipped down. Not to your neck. No, his gaze didn’t drop low enough.

Was he… What is he… Your face grew warm as a blush crept up from your collarbones.

He was staring at your lips.

“Um, excussssse me?” Sir Pentious’ question broke the tension, bringing you both back to the room.

You cleared your throat, finding your seat at the table.

Ignoring the looks Angel Dust was shooting you from across the room, you pushed the cappuccino to the snake.

“...I don’t eat eggssss.” The serpent smiled. “May I have pancakesss?” He beamed.

Alastor’s smile strained. “Of course, my slippery friend.”

You were in no place to point out that pancakes still had eggs in them.

“...With chocolate chipsss?” He blinked, his eyes growing big.

The Radio Demon snapped the spatula in half in his hand. “Right away.”

You resisted the urge to laugh, finding your own mug of hot coffee. The static returned to the room, switching angrily between stations before returning to a smooth jazz.

“Morning!” Charlie yawned. She had a small bouquet of blue flowers in her hand. “Thestral these came for you.” She placed the bouquet down in front of you before finding her seat.

There’s a card.

Your blood runs cold.

Holy fucking shit.

“Who they from?” Angel asks.

You crumble the note in your hand. “Nobody important,” you quickly lie.

Fucking blue Forget-Me-Knots. How fucking hilarious of him. How in the Hell did he find you and know who you are!? You’d burn these to a crisp if you didn’t have so many eyes on you.

You went over to the garbage and aggressively tossed the flowers in, irritation prickling the back of your neck. Before you had a chance to register what was happening, Angel slipped his fingers in yours, and pulled the crumbled note from your grasp. You lunged for the paper, but one of his hands pushed down on your head, placing you thoroughly out of range of his many appendages.

The spider demon’s mouth dropped. “Vox!?”

Shit.

The room went silent.

Vaggie grabbed the paper from Angel and read it herself. “Why is an Overlord sending you flowers?”

Ah, how to explain…

“I…” You pinched the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb. “I fixed his bowtie…” You grumbled.

“You fixed his bowtie?” Angel repeated, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Why were you anywhere near him?” Vaggie was in your face now, challenging you from her even shorter stature.

“He ran into me, quite literally, on my way to the club, after Rosie’s,” your eye’s flit to Alastor, but he was nonchalantly perched behind black and white text, sipping the coffee you had made him. Was he ignoring this conversation or just not interested? “His bowtie was tangled, so I fixed it for him, but he had no idea who I was. I didn’t even give him my name! I have no idea how he found me or why he’d even send me flowers…” You slammed the lid of the garbage can shut.

“Wait, you went to Rosie’s!?” Vaggie challenged.

“She’s my tailor…” You were now thoroughly irritated. “That doesn’t matter!” You fell into your seat with a thud, arms crossed in front of you, you slumped onto the table. A wave of coolness puddled beneath your ankles as you sat - Alastor’s shadow you assume.

“You had a meet-cute with Vox?” Angel was still stuck on that part.

Alastor flipped the page of his newspaper rather aggressively, his shadow twirling around and around your feet. He wasn’t Vox’s biggest fan, so you’re sure the entirety of the Hotel crew obsessing over your interaction with him wasn’t sitting well with the Overlord.

You shot the spider demon a confused, yet exasperated look. Vaggie and Charlie shared a look of concern. Husk poured more alcohol into his orange juice.

“Why the fuck, do you hang around so many Overlords…” Vaggie started but, Charlie interrupted her.

“What Vaggie means to say is, we’re worried about you,” Her voice was sweet as she came to sit next to you, crouched so she could catch your eyeline.

“Was it hot?” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Was there tension of the… sexual nature?” He beamed. Your face turned scarlet.

“Angel, I don’t…” You start but are interrupted.

SNAP!

The Radio Demon’s newspaper disappeared as did his music. Summoning his microphone, he stormed from the kitchen, leaving the rest of you in a wave of silence. His shadow followed, almost as if it was pulled away rather aggressively.

“What was all that about?” Vaggie snapped.

“He looked kind of mad, maybe I should go check on him?” Charlie started to stand but Vaggie pushed her back down.

“Uh, no! No way! You are not going after an Overlord with an anger issue.”

You sighed into your arms. This day was starting off great…

Charlie’s eyes shot to Husk. Pouting her lip, she silently begged the barkeep.

“Ugh!” Rising to his feet, he chugged the rest of his drink. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” He disappeared through the flapping kitchen door.

“Not to change the subject, but has anyone seen Nifty?” Angel asked.

“Not since last night. I swear if she’s stuck in the ventilation shafts again…” Vaggie swore under her breath in Spanish.

“Maybe we should go look for her?” Charlie ran her hands through her hair, still watching the kitchen door swing on its hinges.

“Good idea, let’s split up into teams. I call Thestral!” Angel practically dragged you to your feet. Pushing you out the door, he called back, “Hair clip and I will check this floor!”

“This conversation isn’t over!” Vaggie called out after you.

Next thing you know you were following him down the hallway, coffee-less and grumpy. You weren’t yourself before that first cup of joe and the Hotel Natives had not yet learned what happens when you don’t get it. Plus, the whole Vox situation was just tipping you over the edge.

Static found your spine as you walked - Alastor. His shadow was following you.

Angel made a great deal of effort to check every nook and cranny as you walked, but your eyes were on him. “Thank you for rescuing me,” You stop walking, irritation prickling your skin. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the shadow of the table twitch ever so slightly.

He takes a glance down both hallways, ensuring you were alone. “You know what just happened don’t ya’?”

You raised an eyebrow in question.

“Flirting with the Radio Demon like that and then throwing Vox in his face. Are you nuts?” He grabbed at his hair.

“What!?” You barked, your jaw practically on the floor.

“I saw the way the two of yous… Owe! Owe! Owe! How are you this strong!?” You dragged Angel by his ear to the foyer and out the front doors. Husk was at the bar, shooting you weird looks, but eventually he shrugged it off and went back to cleaning up broken glass.

You didn’t stop until you were standing in the middle of the cobblestone road, in broad daylight, with the closest puddle of shadows at least thirty feet away. Alastor’s shadow could still reach you if it wanted to, but it didn’t know that you knew it was following you - so, it would have to stay hidden. It was now, thankfully, out of earshot.

“What the fuck was that for?” Angel rubbed his ear as you released him.

“Let’s get this straight. I was not ~flirting~ with the Radio Demon. I hate him. What you saw was me not backing down to his intimidation. I refuse to cower before someone who thinks they have some sort of power over me.” You gritted through your teeth. “Also, I did not ask for attention from Vox. I did not ask for flowers. I didn’t want it brought up but you had to go and snoop into my business!”

Angel blinks at you, before something clicks in his mind. “Oooh, I get it now! You wanna hate fuck him.” Angel beamed at you.

Goddammit. You’d rip his head off right here if you didn’t like him so much.

“Look, if Smiles is what does it for ya…”

“Angel,” you bite, but he continues over you.

“…then I’m not one to judge, but you should know one thing. Never, in the history of Hell, has the guy been seen with anyone.”

“Wha… What!?” Your face was turning red, not out of embarrassment but anger. How could Angel think that this was what you wanted to hear right now!?

“Yup, better believe it. Overheard Valentino and Vox talking about it. Apparently the guy’s a total loner. I’m not saying he’s a virgin but there’s a possibility.”

You could feel the heat bubbling beneath your skin, threatening to break through.

“Although come to think of it, Vox talks about Alastor’s sex life quite a bit. Wonder what…”

“Angel Dust,” you snap. “I don’t care about Alastor’s sex life.” You were seconds away from ripping the hair out of your head - reminding yourself that this was Angel, you did your best to contain yourself.

“Oh, well you should.” He crosses his arms, a smirk across his face.

Pinching the bridge of your nose between forefinger and thumb, you do your best to take a breath. “Why would I care about who Alastor has or has not slept with?”

“Because he’s heading this way,” the spider demon points over his shoulder. You spin, blush creeping into your skin, turning the pink to a bright red. You pray he hadn’t heard you talking just now.

The demon slips through the front door, his cane clacking against the ground as he descends upon you. You're helpless, your mind blank as he comes to stand just feet from where you and Angel had been hiding from his shadow.

You were so irritated with Angel and focused on Alastor’s shadow you had missed the static creeping down your spine alerting you to his impending presence.

“Hello, darling, you wouldn’t be leaving without me, would you?” The demon’s smile gives nothing away - if he heard you, he made no show of it.

“Oh, no. She’s all yours, Smiles.” Angel practically shoves you forward. “You, me, bar, later!” He demands as he heads for the safety of the Hotel. Behind Alastor’s back, Angel sends you a quick wink before disappearing inside.

You had grown quite attached to Angel Dust in the short time you’ve been here. So much so that his innocent flirting and quick sex quips brought a smile to your face. And because of that - the muscle twitching in your jaw - you still couldn’t find the room to hate him. Angel Dust was pure - despite his choice of profession - and you found yourself again wondering how Valentino could lay his hands upon such a wonderful person. Even if he can be a twat sometimes.

“Actually, we were looking for Nifty,” you crossed your arms, willing your heart to stop pounding. He could probably hear it from where he stood.

“Ah, it’s a good thing our effeminate friend headed back inside then. The Little Angel has found herself wedged within an air shaft on the ceiling of the library.” He saddles up next to you, your head coming to the height of his chest, before holding his elbow out to you. “Shall we?”

You thought the Radio Demon didn’t like to be touched?

Begrudgingly, you loop your arm in his, your fingers coming to rest atop his jacketed forearm - did he ever wear anything else? - doing your best to ignore the fact that you were touching him. He was warm - not something you expected from him. His shadows always felt so cold when they wrapped around you, you had assumed he would be much the same - cold and dead.

You took a sniff to try and grasp his emotions, to see if he smelled of deceit and indeed had overheard your conversation, but instead of the lemony tartness of the emotion, he smelled of musk, of the deep woods after a rainstorm. It was… unexpected… Especially considering you hadn’t been able to scent anything off of him before this.

And his attitude? He stormed out of the kitchen not twenty minutes ago and now he appears here, his smile seemingly normal, not an ounce of stress in his eyebrows. You wondered what happened to change his mood so quickly?

You did your best to keep your eyes on the path ahead as you walked. “You don’t seem so concerned for someone in your… services?”

He laughed, “Oh, darling, I see you did some homework. Yes, Nifty is a soul I own, and yes she does find herself in a bind quite often.” He helped you down the curb and into the street as you crossed. Despite the smiles on your face, the tension between the two of you was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. “But the difference is, that I trust them to take care of her.”

You scoff, sidestepping a dead rat. “If not I guess you have Husk to tattletale later.”

Out of the corner of your eye, something in the demon’s demeanor turns dark. “You would be surprised how difficult that barcat can be…”

You wonder what happened after Alastor and Husk left the room. There was no shouting or arguing but apparently some broken glass? Perhaps it was Alastor’s anger towards the barkeep. Perhaps it was his irritation with Vox. Whatever it may have been, he appears unphased now. That or he’s really good at putting on a show.

You pass the Entertainment District, V Tower looming overhead. Alastor stiffened slightly, his other hand coming to rest on your arm against his.

Yeah, definitely a Vox issue.

Your heart skips a beat as his gloved fingers settle atop yours and you resist the urge to pull away.

His fingers on yours…

Your face heated.

Shit, think of something else.

You fixate on V Tower. God, the past few nights spent perched on rooftops and just listening and watching Vox and his little gang bitch about absolutely nothing were really starting to get to you.

But last night you had slept. Which doesn’t sound like a lot but you haven’t truly had a decent night’s rest since coming to the Hotel. Now, with Alastor’s radio, you could finally catch a few Zs - despite the dream. You were ignoring that it even happened - as best you could.

At first the music was used to drown out the screams of the Sinners those first few days in Hell, then it became something you needed. It made you feel weak to rely on something so trivial, but, hey, this was Hell - suffering on some level had to be involved.

“Thank you,” you finally managed, looking down at your feet. “For the radio.”

Alastor’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly, his fingers twitching on your arm. “Of course, my dear. Whatever I can do to help.” He didn’t sound as cheerful as his words. His mind fixated on the media demon’s tower looming over you.

Might as well address it directly. You didn’t work well with… complicated emotions, but anger? Fuck. Anger was your best friend.

“Vox has been quiet lately.” You prod. “Ever wonder why he hasn’t flat out tried to take you down?” Heaven’s Clocktower came into view.

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “I suspect his systems are still reloading,” he answers coolly.

“Hmm,” you ponder. “For a seemingly all powerful Overlord, the man has one major weakness.”

“And what would that be, darling?” The edge of Cannibal Town was coming into view. You took a right - heading for the old section of the Entertainment District.

You ignored the butterflies in your belly, now kicked up in a flurry at his purr of “darling.”

You wonder if Alastor is technically not allowed in any part of the Entertainment District - seeing as how it is the Vees’ territory. But what did they care about an old jazz club tucked away in the far less frequented parts of Pentagram City?

“Unplug him,” you smiled at your own joke.

And, to your surprise, the Radio Demon tips his head back and laughs. Not his corny showman laugh, but a deep rumble that emanates from within his chest. You’re shocked for a moment, not sure of how to take his change in emotion, but then your quiet giggles join his.

At least Vox was something you both could agree on.

“...back to you Katie!” A crowd was gathering around a storefront, television screens turned on inside - granted they were older models, 1950s-esque, but 666 News worked on everything.

You hastily listened as you passed, Alastor having no desire to join a forming crowd - watching a television no less - to a breaking news podcast regarding another murder.

“Travis Miku, a former employee of V Tower Productions, was found burnt to a crisp this morning just outside the Entertainment District. His ashes have been returned to his wife…”

You chuckle.

It was his wife who gave you her soul for the hit. A minor deal, but Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither was your power as Overlord.

“On a lighter note, if anyone has any information on how to contact the Shadow, you can call the studio tip hotline. Asking for a friend…”

The buzz of the picture box is drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the Vees’ territory. Cars honked as they drove by, people on cell phones, clubs playing music for patrons who had still been there from the night before.

“Oh, please do enlighten me as to what has peaked your fancy now?” Alastor’s question brought you from your thoughts.

“I find the growing desire to unmask the Shadow to be fruitless.”

The Overlord stiffened next to you. “How ever could you mean?”

“It’s simple. Unmask the mask and what do you get? Just another mask. No one in Hell goes by their true name and the ones who do are now dead twice over. It doesn’t matter who this Shadow is, they still remain a threat regardless of their identity. It would be like learning your name was actually Alex instead of Alastor. You’re still the Radio Demon - nothing has changed.”

“Spoken by someone who sounds like they have nothing to lose?” He raised an eyebrow.

You sigh, your heart knotting itself in your chest. “I don’t…”

Everyone you knew was topside - Heaven - and wherever the Hell your father was. No one left on Earth to care for you now. Not even friends… Even if anyone were to find out who you truly are, they’d have no leverage. Well, you did care for Rosie, but she could take care of herself.

Alastor didn’t ask further, content on finishing the walk in silence. His fingers wrapped around yours were warm and oddly comforting. Actually, silences were oddly comfortable with the Radio Demon - considering his radio never truly left you alone.

You walked the rest of the way in a background of music. The demon changed the channel every so often to find something that he liked - you questioned whether he was picking up actual radio waves or just cycling through his memory like a CD multidisc drive.

Did he know all these songs or were some of them new to him? Did he only listen to music of the twenties and thirties or had his tastes grown in time? You wondered what he would think of jazz now - it had changed so much in the last hundred years.

You were a block away from your destination when the curiosity got the better of you.

“The radio thing you do,” you began awkwardly, “is that something you can turn off completely or…?”

The demon thought for a moment before you heard what you believed to be the sound of a needle gently lifting off a record. No music. No static. Something weighed heavily in his eyebrows, making them crinkle ever so slightly. He didn’t look at you when he answered, “It is uncomfortable.”

And that’s all he said before his fingers found the front door of “Bob’s Barber.” Alastor held the door, motioning for you to go first. What a gentleman.

Bob’s Barber was a stereotypical barbershop, complete with leather chairs and red and white twirled poles. Inside was a shark demon, dressed in a white apron, sweeping the floor of hair.

“It looks like acid rain today,” the barber muttered.

“Yes, well, it’s a good thing I always carry an umbrella*,” you answered.

The barber stopped his sweeping to smile at you. “Since when do you take the front door, Loca?”

You pounded his fist with your own, “And who’s this?” His smile dropped when he turned to Alastor, standing at your side, hands placed gently on the top of his microphone.

“A friend.”

Not a friend.

“And since when do you have friends?” The barber was not backing down, smelling blood in the water. Smart guy.

“Didn’t say he was my friend, Luis,” you smiled.

The shark demon turned to you, his large hand - fin? - ruffling the hair atop your head. You hated when he did that, but also loved it.

“Alastor,” the Radio Demon held out his claws for a handshake, “perhaps you’ve heard of me?”

The shark demon looked from his hand to his face and back to his hand again. “No.” You didn’t hold back your laugh. “But if Loca says you’re cool, then go on ahead.” The barber leaned behind the front desk and cranked a lever. A panel in the mirrored wall popped open - oh, the fun of speakeasies.

You felt Luis’ eyes bore into Alastor as you made your way through the wall and down a set of stairs. You were suddenly very grateful for the overprotective shark demon who had become something of a friend over the years.

“Mimzy did always love her theatrics!” Alastor’s tone was light, but you could tell he was irritated by the bruise in his ego. Narcissist.

It was early, the club technically wouldn’t be open for hours. The lights were on revealing the slick wetness of a newly polished wood floor that gave way to red carpeting. The bar was at the very back of the establishment, wooden and antique with a backdrop of rows and rows of bootleg liquor - the original stuff. Seems nostalgia wasn’t lost on the old guard of Hell. Moonshine was still made from white sugar, the bottles were random containers of glass wrapped in handwritten labels.

Booths lined the back of the establishment, their red velvet cleaned weekly. Closer towards the stage were tables, white clothes covering their tops, complete with candle centerpieces. It was a truly classic Prohibition Era establishment. Complete with a grand piano at the middle of it all. How Mimzy still managed to pull all this off after a hundred years you didn’t know. Your job was to show up, learn the music, and play.

“Seven years and it hasn’t changed a bit!” Alastor twirled his cane, having come to rest at his back as he surveyed the establishment.

“Alastor!?” A small, rather portly woman popped out from behind the stage curtain.

The Radio Demon’s lips curled as the woman ran over. “By the way, darling,” he leans into you, his lips brushing the crest of your ear. In a low whisper, his voice deep and raspy, the demon spoke, “I’m not a virgin.”

HOLY SHIT. Before your brain has time to process his words, Mimzy runs over.

“Alastor! I thought I heard your voice!” Dressed like a pink flapper, complete with feather in hair, the club owner practically tramples Alastor as she brings him into a… hug? You try not to let your jaw hit the floor. “Sweetie, Doll-face, So good to see you! How've you been? Good? Good.” She turns to the barkeep. “Rex, bust out the good rye, we’re celebratin’!”

God, she was the sweetest, loudest person you had ever met.

“Mimzy, dear, so good to see you,” Alastor’s radio was back to his jovial tune. Mimzy led him to a booth, completely ignoring your presence.

As the demon was whisked away, you felt his shadow twirl about your ankles before joining your own.

Oh, no, no, no. He doesn’t just get to say something like that and walk away. You spin and kick at the shadow, but nothing comes of it - well, nothing you wanted to happen. Instead, you manage to pop a blister.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, pulling off a heel. Red blood bubbled on the side of your foot.

Great. Just great. You were going to half to walk home, across Pentagram City, shoeless - again. Can’t fly home in daylight, too many eyes would be on you and you couldn’t risk anyone following you back to the Hotel. It would be too easy.

You limp a few steps to a table, but stop when Alastor’s shadow beats you to it. The thing grabs a napkin and brings it back to you. Hesitating, you turn to the booth where Mimzy and Alastor were now sitting, chatting away. The demon doesn’t even glance in your direction, completely entranced with whatever joke the two of them were laughing at.

The Radio Demon was a superb multitasker if he could tell jokes and watch you through his shadow at the same time. Or, was it not conscious control? Was it a mindless minion like his shadow imps that fixed the Hotel wall the first day you moved in? Or was his shadow a soul he owned, someone tricked into servitude for the rest of eternity?

“Thank you?” You accepted the token, using it to wipe up the blood from your foot. The shadow quickly zips away, melting into your own. You could still feel it’s presence, however, as you pulled off the other shoe to storm off into the back room.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Mimzy’s call stopped you in your tracks. “Yeah, I see ya’, come ova’ here!”

White knuckled, you rounded the corner to face the two of them, drinks being poured at their table - Alastor with his usual rye and Mimzy with some sort of gin and tonic.

“Don’t think ya’ can just sneak by me,” she chastises. “Ya’ skipped out on me last weekend. It ain’t gonna happen this week.”

Oh, the look on Alastor’s face right now. He was relishing your scolding. Asshole. Why was he even here anyway?

“Sheet music is on the piano. You’re fillin’ in for Roxie.”

“Two days!?” You protested. “You want a full headliner in two days!?”

“You gonna complain? That’s showbiz, kid!” She took a swig of her drink and hiccuped.

“Oh, go easy on the poor dear, Mimzy. She’s…” Alastor smiled, but you cut him off.

“I do not need your sympathy.” You stomped over to the black piano and swiped the music sheets atop it.

Mimzy looked between the two of you. “You let her talk to you like that?”

“He doesn’t let me do anything. I do whatever I want,” you answered for him and stormed out.

____________________________________________

“I’ll see you later, Luis,” you called to the shark demon as you stomped back onto the streets of the Entertainment District, very aware of the Radio Demon’s shadow following you.

No way in Hell were you going to practice with an audience - and in front of Alastor no less. Ugh! You’d take the music and practice back at the Hotel, hidden away in the old music room where no one would bother you.

Jesus, you needed a cup of tea or a yoga session or something! You were wound so tightly after last night and this morning that you were grinding your teeth as you walked. Maybe you should make a stop at Rosie’s on the way back, bounce a few ideas off of her, figure out what she thinks you should do to solve your Radio Demon problem. Maybe…

“Need a ride?”

Fuck. As if you needed another problem right now!

A black limo slowed its pace to match yours. The window rolled down to reveal Vox in a newly pressed suit, a sly grin on his face. How the fuck did he find you?

You rolled your eyes and kept limping walking, a familiar ache building in your feet. Angel had done a great job in patching your blisters, and these new shoes helped a ton, but you had still walked all the way across Pentagram City this morning - perhaps you bit off more than you could chew. Regardless, you were not getting in that limo.

“Hey, where you goin’?” Vox awkwardly chuckled. The media demon practically fell out the door onto the ground, landing on all fours. He brushed himself off and sped walked until he caught up with you. Falling in line, he grabbed both his lapels, sauntering next to you. Lesser demons noted the Overlord’s presence, and quickly parted for you to pass.

“None of your business,” you snapped through gritted teeth, speeding up.

“Mind if I join you?” He flashed you a grin.

“I do, actually.”

God, this guy can’t take a hint.

“Oh, well okay then…” Vox’s smile faltered, he turned his attention to the path ahead, but he didn’t leave. “I guess I‘ll just head home then… Which just so happens to be in the same direction…” He continued alongside you another block before you put the breaks on.

“Vox, what do you want from me!?” You snapped, your hands curling into fists, crushing the sheet music you walked all the way here to get.

Vox took a step back, hurt flashing across his screen before it was replaced by his neutral grin. “I just wanted to know if you got my flowers?”

You could feel the artery pulsing in your temple in agitation. You took a breath, stifling the flames itching beneath your skin. “Yes, I got your blue Forget-Me-Knots, very clever.”

“I’m glad you liked them,” he beamed, his confidence newly restored.

God, this guy was like a golden retriever.

“Is that all?” You ground your teeth.

“No, actually.” He pulled another flower from his jacket pocket, offering it to you. “I was wondering if you would like to join me tonight?” The media demon painted his best grin on his face, his eyebrow cocked in question. He looked smug, his aura wafting off scents of rosemary - the scent of pride. He thought oh-so highly of himself.

Your eyes flit between him and the blue flower, a dumb look on your face. You blinked a few times, “What?”

“He’s asking you out!” Some random dude screamed from the growing crowd.

Oh God, there were cameras. Demons were filming. This wasn’t good. The blood instantly drained from your face. “You’re… what?”

The demon cleared his throat, preparing a rehearsed speech. “You’re the first demon in a long time to not take one look at me and flee. To look at me and not immediately idolize me. To look at me and not want something from me. In fact, you wanted nothing to do with me.” The media demon grabs your hand, his thumb brushing over your palm. Small sparks of static electricity dance their way up your arm. It felt different from Alastor’s static, Vox’s was more metallic and surface level whereas Alastor’s melted into your bones.

You felt the Radio Demon’s shadow stir beneath your feet twirling about itself in agitation. Did the shadow know you could feel it? Did it know you could sense its agitation as easily as you could smell the emotions wafting off of others?

“You’re absolutely breathtaking, but I’m sure you already knew that.” He chuckles. “There’s just something about you… I don’t even know you and yet I do not feel worthy of you.” Another chuckle, then a pause, a hesitation. “I would be truly and deeply honored if you would join me for…”

SCREECH.

“Hello, old pal,” Alastor was suddenly behind you, his radio pure static defeaning your ears. You jumped a few steps back, putting as much room between you and Vox as you could muster. You clutched your hand to your chest protectively, Vox’s electricity diminishing with each second his skin wasn’t on yours.

The Radio Demon took a step in front of you, blocking your view of the media demon. He twirled his cane before slamming it against the stone pavement, green sparks flying from where it made contact. His shadow found its place beneath his feet once more.

A pair of eyes and a mouth appeared in the shadow, as if Alastor’s own smile and irises were blocking the darkness. It shot a look of pure hatred at the media demon, its ears curling as if horns, its mouth widening in a razor sharp grin. His shadow looked absolutely lethal, but Alastor looked as cool as a cucumber, as if he just so happened across two friends during one of his outings.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Vox spat, returning the flower to his lapel. The demon’s left eye patterned red and white in anger.

“I happened to be in the neighborhood,” the demon sang, cleaning his monocle as if Vox wasn’t worth giving his full attention to.

Why was he… Oh, wait a minute. Now you get it. Alastor and Vox were fighting over you, not the lover’s triangle kind of fight, but the “Vox has something I want” kind of fight. You were a toy and they were two toddlers throwing a tantrum about who got to play with you.

That’s why Alastor offered you his arm as you strode across town. That’s why he played the gentleman as you passed V Tower. That’s why he clung to you, his hands on your fingers, as you walked through the Entertainment District. You were a toy, an object for the two of them to stake a claim in owning.

You weren’t a valuable toy to either of them - you felt the need to point out - this fight was about power, not about you at all. Figures…

“This has nothing to do with you, you Old Timey Prick!” Vox’s screen began to glitch, his voice cutting in and out with his screen. “So fuck off!”

Alastor took his time fixing his monocle back into place before responding. “Hmm, yes. I do believe we have overstayed our welcome here in the Entertainment District, darling. Care for a lift home?” He eyes you from over his shoulder, his elbow out in anticipation.

Vox looked to you, his face visibly saddening. God, it was pathetic. “She’s coming with me. I have already offered her a ride!” Vox motioned to the limo.

Jesus boys, just whip them out and measure already.

“Thestral is a guest at ~my~ Hotel and as such she is ~my~ responsibility. What would our dear Princess Morningstar say if I let her prattle about with the likes of you?” The demon’s eyes narrowed at Vox, a green aura emanating from his form.

You know, part of you really wanted to see them duke it out right here, right now, so they could finally see who the real winner was between the two of them, but another part of you wanted this nightmare to end.

Something in your line of sight caught your eye and gave you an idea. Spinning, you snuck off, deciding upon Option C.

____________________________________________

“You did fucking what!?” Angel practically choked on his drink.

“I left them there,” you sipped your Cabernet, letting the tannins dance across your tongue. “Right in the middle of the Entertainment District.”

Angel was laughing so hard he had whiskey coming out of his nose, “I would have paid so much fucking money to see the looks on their faces!”

“And Vox just let you take his ride?” Husk raised an eyebrow, busying himself with the glasses behind the bar.

“The Computer Monitor was too busy short circuiting to do anything about it,” you shrugged. And you offered the driver a lot of money. A sum the shark couldn’t refuse.

“Damn, kid. You got some balls,” Husk shook his head. You know he didn’t approve of the stunt. All it did was increase the magnification on the microscope you had now found yourself under.

You spun the half empty glass across the countertop, “Hey, where is Alastor anyway?”

Husk shrugged, cleaning another glass, “Haven’t seen him since you two left this morning.”

Good. You needed an evening without the overbearing Overlord and his snooping shadow following your every move. Tonight, you could relax.

“So you gonna take Vox up on his offer?” Angel wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You stopped your twirling and shot Angel a dumb look.

“What?” He threw his hands up in defense. “You can’t blame a guy for trying. Especially…” He pulls up Vitter on his phone and showed the both of you the video which had now reached over a million views. “After a declaration such as this.”

You watched as Vox repeated his mantra and then the video and audio filled with static - Alastor’s doing you assumed - before it cut out completely. Nice trick. You were going to have to figure out how to do that yourself.

Vox’s words were nice, but coming from an Overlord they just sounded pathetic. Like one of your victims begging for their life before you burnt them to a crisp.

“I have absolutely no interest,” you turned your nose up.

“Because of Smiles or…?” Angel winked.

Your face turned red. “B.. Because of nothing!” You stuttered. “I have no interest in dating or fucking of any kind.”

Angel did a double take. “We seriously need to talk about your priorities, toots.”

“Not everything is about sex, you horny motherfucker,” Husk snaps.

“Wrong,” Angel sang, holding his glass up for another drink. “Everything in the world is about sex, except for sex. Sex is about pleasure.”

Husk begrudgingly pours himself another, rolling his eyes.

You snort into your wine. “Did you just misquote Oscar Wilde?”

Angel blinks at you.

“The quote is ‘everything in the world is about sex, except for sex. Sex is about power,” you correct.

Angel blinks again, shaking his head. “No, I don’t think that’s right.”

The two of you laugh, Husk rolling his eyes.

“But you know what I mean?” Angel shrugged.

“Uhm,” you hid your mouth in your wine glass. “I don’t actually…”

Angel looked shocked. “Wait, don’t tell me, you’re a fucking virgin!?”

You finished off the glass royally humiliated.

“Oh, this is fucking priceless!” Angel hit the bar, wooing in excitement.

“Here we are!” Charlie kicks open the kitchen door, the bouquet of blue flowers in her hand. She rescued them from the trash can, fixed them up, and found a vase. “Like new!” The Princess places the vase before you, her eyes sparkling in excitement.

Angel, looked between you and the flowers and burst into a laugh so hard he fell off the stool.

“Oh my gosh! Are you alright?” Charlie helps him off the floor.

You turn to Husk and motion for the wine bottle. He gladly gives it to you, his energy matching yours.

Angel, wheezing, grabs a flower from the bouquet and tucks it behind your ear. You let him, shooting him a dumb look as he continues to laugh.

“Why?” You huff.

“Well,” Charlie bites her lip, still trying to process what was happening. “He went through so much trouble that I felt bad!”

Ah, yes, Ms. Bleeding Heart, you forgot.

There goes the rest of your evening…

____________________________________________

“What? You think I'm fucking lying?!” Blitz cowered behind his desk. “1923, Chicago. Esther Hadassah.” Blitz flipped over a photo and placed it before the Radio Demon. “1937, Lae, New Guinea. Hannah Samuel.” Another photo. “1947, Washington, D.C. Miriam Amren.” Another. “1969, back in Chicago. Phoebe Corinth.” Another. “The last one we have is from 1974, London. Mary Beth Lazarus.”

Five different photos; five different points in time; five different names, but one woman. All of the women photographed - although, different hair styles and clothing - looked exactly like YOU.

“This bitch has strong genes!” Blitz awkwardly laughed. “But we haven’t been able to find anything past 1974, yet.”

Alastor picked up one of the photographs of you in 1947. Your hair was curled into a cute little bob with waves more iconic of the 1930s than the late 40s. You had a large sun hat tipped slightly askew atop your head and a boa wrapped around your neck, which complimented your yellow dress beautifully. Your hair was blonde then, not dyed to silver like it was now, your skin was pink and full of life - you had a human disguise, but your eyes still shined their vibrant gold. You were sitting at a coffee shop reading a newspaper, a young lady sitting next to you, reading over your shoulder, her face hidden behind your hat.

The hat covered part of your face as well, but he would know those red lips anywhere.

The demon covered his face with his hand and laughed, an hysteric laugh. “Oooooh, someone’s keeeeeeeping secreeeeeeets.” He sang, a look of pure mania sprawling across his face as the music on his radio fizzled out to static.

“I’m sorry?” Blitz was thoroughly confused, terror growing in his eyes at the sudden darkening of the room.

You’ve been dead a lot longer than six years… He laughed again, the room turning green. Oh, Alastor was rightfully irritated after that little stunt you pulled today in the Entertainment District, but now? Now he was pissed.

In a spark of green flame, the demon slowly burned the photo of you to ash…

Time to go hunting.

____________________________________________

“Goodnight, guys!” You call over your shoulder, your thoughts muddled and the ache in your feet numbed by the wine.

You decided you needed a night off from babysitting the Vees. Not like they actually did anything anyway. You owed Mimzy a full headliner in a few nights and were going to need all your energy to get up early to practice before Charlie’s onslaught of trust exercises. How trust falls and circle activities were supposed to get you to Heaven’s door, you didn’t know, but hey, you signed up for this.

So, a hot shower, and a night of jazz awaited you. Or, whatever was playing on the radio, which was almost always jazz. Was that Alastor’s doing or…?

CREAK!

You spin, static zipping down your spine, but Alastor isn’t there. No one is there. Not even the shadows moved.

SNAP!

Another sound, from the other end of the hallway this time. Was it getting darker in here… and green?

AHHH! A scream.

You spin again, and suddenly, you’re not in the hallway anymore. You’re… in a swamp?

Crickets chirped in the night as the humidity licked your skin. Gigantic trees cascaded above you and around you, vegetation weeping from its branches as if the trees themselves were melting from the heat. The world was a mixture of browns and greens as the aroma of wildflowers danced across your senses. And stars… Through the canopy you swore you saw stars twinkling in the night.

You hadn’t seen stars in years.

In another situation, it would have been beautiful, but then the stars winked out, the world diving into a hue of green, the wind carrying the threat of radio static.

Alastor’s cackles echoed around you, bouncing off the trunks, making it hard to tell exactly where the demon was.

“This isn’t real,” you mumbled, the sweat sticking to your skin. “This isn’t real.”

It was a dream - a nightmare - it had to be. Last time the demon had you trapped you woke up in bed. Now, you were passed out drunk in your room, having a nightmare. You had to be.

A flock of birds takes off behind you, causing you to jump. Where the fuck had Alastor taken you!? This wasn’t Earth - although it looked a whole Hell of a lot like it. A pocket dimension?

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up! You spun in circles, eyeing the treeline. If he was going to attack, he would have done it already. That or he’s toying with you. Alastor does like his theatrics.

You debated grabbing a stick and stabbing yourself; pain to wake you up, right? Wrong. That didn’t work last time. Alastor slammed you against the wall in the last dream and then nearly choked you to death - if that wasn’t enough to wake you…

“Oh, don’t look so scared.” Alastor cooed from the darkness. “I just wanted to have a little chat.” The demon materializes from the shadows before you, his smile twisted. You had seen Alastor’s barely contained anger before - in the way he held his shoulders, the tight curl of his lips when he smiled. This Alastor was barely keeping himself together. His eyes continuously flipped from irises to dials, a thread of green stitched across his smile, the antlers atop his head held a few extra prongs on either side. He could barely keep his demonic form contained.

The demon sings, his hands coming to rest atop the microphone before him. “What’s a chat between friends?”

You readied yourself. “Is that what we are now?” You were stalling. You needed to stall, to think of some way out of this. Think. Think! Think!

“I don’t know, darling,” he purred, “you tell me.” His static melted into your bones.

“I’m dreaming. This is a dream.” There, a break in the trees, a glow of artificial light. That had to be something!

Alastor’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “Is it?”

You take a step towards what you hope is salvation, but the demon melts into shadow and appears behind you. He wraps his arms around your body, his one hand on your throat, the other around your waist. “Mr. Alastor!” Keep up the façade, if this wasn’t a dream you couldn’t risk him finding out who you are. “This is hardly appropriate!”

Alastor had every intention of confronting you tonight. He had every intention of demanding to know why you were here, at ~his~ Hotel. He wanted to know just how much power you had. You should have more souls than Carmilla herself at this point in time. You should be an Overlord rivaling that of Zestial. Yet you spent your undead years flitting back and forth between here and Earth? He wanted to know why. He wanted to know how.

The I.M.P. had only recently uncovered such power, but there were others in Hell - most notably the Succubi - who could travel back and forth between the realms. He wanted to know how you had uncovered such power for yourself, being a Human Sinner and all.

Yet, his eyes landed on the blue flower Angel had put in your hair, and now he couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t think about anything other than Vox and how he stood in the streets of the Entertainment District mere hours ago, holding your hand, trying to claim you for himself.

He wanted your soul that very first day you stepped into the Hotel. He didn’t know why, he just knew he had to have you. He had to possess you. You had to be his.

That night in the library when he probed you for your power, he couldn’t stop looking at your neck and the blood thrumming through it. How lovely you would look with a collar wrapped around your throat. How lovely you would look at the other end of a chain. Yet, his mind kept returning to thoughts of your blood. He had licked his lips in anticipation. He didn’t just want to own you, he wanted to taste you.

Thankfully, you had caught on to his little game and shoved him away. He didn’t know what he would of done had you not. Sure, he was a Cannibal in this life and the one before it, but he never had the urge to devour before. He ate because he liked the power it gave him, not because of the power beheld by his victims. But you? Oh, you smelled divine and he knew you would taste delicious.

So when he saw you hand in hand with Vox, well… He couldn’t have that now, could he? And then you rode off, disappearing and leaving him and Vox absolutely flabbergasted. You had shown him up. He couldn’t have you showing him up.

It made him look weak.

You squirmed in his arms, trying to break free. He clamped down around you harder. With his one hand around your waist, the other went to the flower in your hair. Holding it between his fingers, he summoned his green Hellfire and burnt it to a crisp.

And then you had the audacity to laugh at him, “Jealous your little boyfriend is moving on?”

Alastor growled, threatening to bite your head off. Then, something unexpected happened, he felt you suck in a shaky breath. Not because you were afraid - never because you were afraid - but because his growl had turned you on, and your ass was now perfectly aligned with his crotch.

His cock twitched to life in his pants at the thought, and you both froze.

Alastor was mortified. This has never happened before. He’s rarely had this ever happen in front of someone else, let alone because of someone else. The demon didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. It had caught him more off guard than it had you. He didn’t…

You ground your ass into his hips.

The demon’s breath hitched, his lips pressing into your ear. You rolled your hips again, and the wave of pleasure it sent through him had his dick hardening. The demon instinctively grabbed onto your hips, not to stop you, but to pull you closer, to give you leverage as you rolled again.

His breath was shaky in your ear, his body leaning into you. You brought your hands up and went for his hair, threading your fingers behind his head for leverage.

Something buzzed between the two of you, almost as if Alastor's magic was instinctively reacting to your body. His static reached out to caress your form, making its way up your thighs, over your hips, and curling around your breasts.

A small gasp escaped your lips that had Alastor's blood singing.

On the next roll, the demon moved with you, running his lengthening member up your ass as your hips moved down.

“Fu.. Fuck,” he breathed into your ear, a wave of pleasure running through his body that had him practically bucking at the knees.

Your head fell back against his chest, your face flush with desire.

Shit, were you enjoying this as much as he was?

The demon spun you around, reaching out to cup your cheeks...

… and you side-kicked him square in the chest, sending him flying backward onto the swampy ground. Then you ran. Zipping past trees, branches smacking you in the face, you ran desperately for that source of light.

You didn’t dare summon any of your magic to get away. If Alastor didn’t already know you were the Shadow, this wasn’t the time to have him figure it out.

You practically fell face-first onto a wooden floor, having entered a room through a hole in the wall. Yes, definitely a pocket dimension.

Not slowing to look around, you slammed through the door and landed in the hallway of the Hotel, kicking the wood shut behind you.

Catching your breath, you sat and waited, waiting for the demon to barrel out after you. As you sat there and waited for Alastor to come and kill you, the scent of warm vanilla, orange, and mint hit your nose - coming from you.

Jesus, you smelled like a turned on victim.

The world behind the door remained silent. Not even the crickets of the swamp could be heard.

“What in the fuck just happened?” Angel stood shell-shocked behind you. He wore a set of pink pajamas, Fat Nuggets tucked sleepily under his arms. The demon looked between you and the door: Alastor’s door.

He gave you a knowing smile, “Did you hate fuck him?”

Shit. Not a dream.

"Now kiss" *side kicks you and runs* "I said 'kiss' not 'kick!"

*Yes, that was a Captain America reference! Thought it would be funny to have that as the code for the speakeasy lol

-> Chapter Seven

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