#''oh you have fourteen things to do in five days?

[directdogman]

We asked some of the DT cast for stories from earlier in their lives!

Gingi: "Hmmm... That's a tricky one. Well, there was... Uhhh... Okay, no. Not that. Uhhh... Pass."

Randy: "From MY life? Uhhh... Like, from when I was a kid or something? Uhhh... I, uhhh- Oh! Okay, s-so... I think I was about fourteen, right? Uhhh, my father was kinda... Y'see, he'd yell at me sometimes, like, "Randy, why aren't you GOOD at anything! I didn't raise a lazy QUITTER. You're going to find something that you're GOOD at if you're gonna continue living under this roof!" So, uhhh, I had to learn to play an i-instrument, y'know?

Uhhh, I-I think he picked the clarinet for me 'cause my brothers already played guitar and piano, y'know? Uhhh... Then I was trying to practice it at home... a LOT, and he stormed into the room, SNATCHED it from my hands and snapped it. He went off about how I couldn't do anything right, I was a failure of a son, I didn't live up... [Randy clears his throat] Heh... Anyway, I was relieved! I HATED playing that thing! I could never get my fingers in the right places fast enough, y-y'know?"

Karen: "Hmmm... I don't have many stories from when I was in school. I kinda kept to myself. I wasn't noticed a lot. I liked it better that way. But, when I was seventeen, our class was entered into a regional math competition. Basically, we had to solve equations in our spare time, and whoever got the most right answers got a prize. I did a LOT of them. Fifteen hours worth, one week. I was mostly curious to see how I'd place if I really tried for a short burst of time, see how I ranked. But, I kept going... and I ended up ranking in the top 5. Nationally. 

The organizers invited all of us to a ceremony where they handed out prizes. Our parents too. I watched other people from my class get smaller prizes one by one, for participating and when I didn't get one, I figured they'd just forgotten about me. It happens, I wasn't surprised. But, then out of nowhere, they started handing out scholarships to the top 5 entrants. I was one of the five. 

I can't tell you how it felt to be one of them, to be seen. To be recognized for giving it my all. Anyway. My parents weren't there, they arrived an hour after the whole thing ended, after everyone left. I told them about my win. My mother pointed out that the scholarship would've only covered a portion of my full tuition. I asked why they weren't there. She got angry and said I'd texted her the wrong time. I didn't. We went out for dinner after that. My sister seemed proud." 

Oliver: "Oh, man! Uhhh... Where to begin! Y'know, I was a real menace when I was in school! I wanted the world and I wanted it now! Oh! Oh! Okay, so back when I was in high school, we got all this HAM and then... Oh. Actually, y'know what, that story has a crime in it- Not, like, a BAD one, but...

Okay. Uhhh. Something, uhhh- Oh! I've got it. So, I was six years old, right? My mom came to pick me up from school that day, as per usual! The thing is, it was actually my BIRTHDAY! She didn't give me my present that morning, said she'd show me what she had for me as soon as I got home. I was stoked! I knew it had to be something REALLY gnarly or really pathetic for her NOT to want to show it to me right away and there's no way she would've short-changed me! 

So, we got home and there it was. She'd gotten me a SNAKE. I'd been reading books, talking about 'em CONSTANTLY... I didn't think she'd- Uhhh- It's not- Well, it wasn't a typical gift to give a kid like me, y'know? But, she noticed how much I loved them and wanted me to have one. 

Aw, he was the cutest little guy too! A corn snake! So, y'know, I got to hold him all the time and... Aw, I miss that little guy! I called him Mr Slithers when I first got him, but then we started calling him Schlep! Y'know, like Asclepius? The Greek God with the snakes! Aw, I miss that little guy… We didn't always have much, with my dad gone, but she always made sure I knew how much I meant to her."

Norm: "You want a story from MY life? Pardner, I've been around the world, OFF the world, in one end o' a wormhole and out th' the other SIDE. Where would I begin? Well... I worked at NASA for a spell, but I... Ah, t' hell with all that. I was with the Air Force, back in Korea. I 'member... Back when I was still a Corporal, actin'-Sergeant, th' job wasn't JUS' about shootin' down other planes. Sometimes we also handled folks who surrendered on th' ground, y'know? Admittin' POWS, which we traded back fer our own. 

Anyway, we had this one fella, Choe somethin'... You'll have t' forgive me, it's all a lil fuzzy now. He was a conscript, o' course. Jus' wanted to see th' end of the war. 'Cause o' my rank, it was my job t' oversee th' cataloguin' what he had on 'im and t' get him t' sign the completed inventory. The fella had a PPSh-41. Full drum. Doubt he'd ever even fired th' thing... It was MY firs' time holdin' one. Always wondered how they handled. 

I looked at Choe, I looked at my buddy Reggie... Oh. I knew Reggie from all th' way back in Phoenix... He picked up the language better than me... Y'know, they used t' give us candy in our rations. Hershey's Tropical. Haven't seen any on the shelves since the warp, but… Eh. A half-decent candy bar's pretty fillin', good source o' calories, stops yer men from losin' their goddamned minds. Even perfected the recipe fer the climate. Didn't melt like the bars here. Sorry, I'm ramblin' again. 

So, I made Choe an offer, with Reggie's help. We leave the gun offa the form, he gets the candy bar. The, uhhh, gist of what he said t' Reggie was that the gun was o' no use to him now that he'd been captured, but he'd very much like the candy bar. So, we left it off the form and o' course, he signed it. That night, me and Reggie went out, drank a whole bunch o' somaek and fired that thing off 'til we didn't have a single bullet left fer that drum. That night was really somethin'."

God: "Oh, man, have I seen some shit... I mean, hell, I've lived a lot of lives… I know I mightn't look it now, but hey, I had my fair share of jobs, little things for myself to do, friends... But, not anymore. Y'see... Ah. I just had this feelin' set in over time. A realization, I guess you could call it. There was this rot inside me. Every go around, there were these similarities. I'd notice more of 'em each time. I'd know stuff before it happened. I'd know people's thoughts before they'd think 'em... and. It was revolting, what I was doing. Keeping people around me that I knew would outlive me, taking up valuable time, making their lives worse for… Ah, you wouldn't get it.

Anyway, I tried to shove the feelings down for a long time, but sooner or later, I couldn't sleep at night, ignoring what I knew. I was a piece of filth, plain and simple. I made the world worse for being in it, and I couldn't make up for all that time, bein' around people for so long. The only thing I could do to make it up to everyone was to disappear. But, if I just went, people would've missed me. That wasn't right either. They had to know why. So, I went to everyone I knew. Well, anyone who'd care if I left. And I told 'em everything about me. Every bad thing I'd said, done, the things I should've done... What I was, deep down. If I thought of anything I didn't want to say, I said it. With as much detail as I could think up. 

Then, I started walking. I doubt anyone came to look for me. Doesn't really matter now, does it? Heh. I've been wanderin' ever since. You gotta keep your distance from people, y'know? A quick bite and a how-do-ya-do's dandy and all, but any more than that, and you risk getting attached. Or havin' other people get attached to you. Nothin' lasts forever."

Bigfoot: [wistful ape noises]

(It was dark at the foot of the Appalachian mountains. Far above the tapestry of leaves and pine needles, the sky was alight with stars. Distant, yet the dim specks staining the dark expanse above the trees were the only light reaching this place now. A shaggy behemoth sprinted through the foliage at a breakneck pace, knocking any tree unlucky enough to be in its path back with its hefty arms. Never slowing down, never stopping.

Suddenly, a powerful beam shone down from above. Brighter than the moon, glaring like the sun. The giant halted suddenly, locking up as the light hit its lens. It looked up slowly, his gaze trying to meet the light. Barely perceptible amidst the haze, a figure loomed on a branch, its silhouette visible against the sky as the absence of starlight. Its spotlight head flickered as if it was scanning, now the brightest thing against the sky. After a pause, the figure unfurled its wings and gracefully glided to the ground, where it landed. Even against the windless tranquility of the woods, its landing made little sound. The hulking beast didn't stir. He had seen this figure before, always at a distance. Closer each time. Mistakable for the moon against the night sky.

The furred brute thought to flee, but it had seen this figure in flight. He was swift, but it was much swifter. The figure inched gradually closer, its steps slow, deliberate and silent. Slower than it'd had ever moved before. As it stopped right in front of him, its head dimmed, allowing him to see it better. As he studied its slender figure, its head cocked in place, as if scanning him. A dim whir now audible from the bulb. At that moment, the monster felt as if the being was looking into his soul. Its movements were sorrowful and graceful, each movement angled like a bow. It could truly see him.

Slowly, a feathered wing extended towards him, gracefully connecting with the side of his head. The first time he'd felt the contact of another in a quarter of a century. The monster barely shirked, causing her to retract her wing momentarily. As he gazed back towards her, his lens now locked onto the bulb sitting atop the slender body before him, the figure's wing slowly caressed his face. No noises were exchanged, but the beast knew what this touch meant. "You could be happy."

Momentarily remembering who he was, the behemoth retracted. He sighed, his gaze now meeting only the dimly lit leaves at their feet. She too knew what this meant. "There is another." The figure looked down as well, visibly dejected. Not at his rejection, but for fate's cruel acumen. After a silent moment, its wings unfurled and it took flight, disappearing into the branches above them. Unsure of itself, the monster stepped forward, the moon's light glinting between the branches. Regaining its composure, the titan began its sprint again. Never ceasing, never yielding. It would find its family. Even if it had to search every inch of this land.)

Little Billy: "get fucked, narc."

Stabby and Shooty: "Oh, man! Have WE got some stories!" "Lotsa stories! Heh heh heh!" "Y'know, we're kinda bad boys… Hard eggs!" "The hardest! HEH HEH HEH!" "Y'know, we-" "Oh! Oh! Slick! Tell 'em about the time you i-" "…No. Not that one, bro." "What?! It's the most GANGSTER shit either of us h-" "I said DROP IT! OKAY?!" "…" "…" "…" "…" "Sorry, bro…"

Mayor Mingus: "What is this, for a MAGAZINE?! I don't have time for any of this. In case you haven't noticed, I have a CITY to run, and anything I don't do myself WON'T be done correctly. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

("When I was a kid, I used to bring Maw Maw to church. Someone had to. When she got older, she lost much of her sight. Her optical sensors deteriorated and she wouldn't let anyone open up her head to replace them. She never explained why. I was happy to spend time with her, though. Especially since my father never joined us. Like HE'D ever step foot in a church. 

I never believed in any of that malarkey either, to be clear. I don't even think she did, until her later years. Perhaps it comforted her? I guess that's beside the point. After every sermon, we'd go out and get a burger at the Burger Hovel in the mall across the street. Then, we'd go upstairs and she'd try on clothes at the department store. Because of her sight, she couldn't read the tags on her own. She needed me there for that, to know if something would fit. She rarely bought anything. I think she just liked trying them on, being someone else for a little while... It was nice, though. Being useful, helping her do something she couldn't do on her own.")

[heliosunny]

He Who Remembers Me

Yandere!Gojo x Reader

You were crying. At that age, everything felt too big. The other kids had cornered you near the edge of the park, shoved you until your knees hit gravel. Afterward, you slumped onto a bench, fingers trembling around your bruised knees, salt streaking your face in silent, unstoppable waves.

And then he showed up.

He was older than you, but not by much. Maybe twelve or thirteen. Maybe fourteen, tops. He looked like someone who never once cried in public. Or cried at all.

He stood a few feet away. “Ugh. What a noise.”

You glared at him between hiccups. “Go away.”

“Maybe I will. But you’re ruining the atmosphere. You know, I just got back from a mission.”

“A mission?”

He crouched lazily beside the bench. “I exorcise... unexplainable things”

“…What’s exorcise?”

“Make bad stuff vanish.”

You stared at him. “Can you make people disappear?”

He looked at you, grinned slowly. “If that’s your wish, sure.”

You’d stopped crying after that. Something about the way he said it had pulled the tears right back into your chest. You didn’t ask for his name. And you never saw him again. And that strange aura around him.

Years later, you stood in the courtyard of Jujutsu High, watching the new teacher arrive in a blur of chatter.

Tall, white hair, blindfold, such weird taste.

He strolled in, one hand in his pocket and the other waving lazily. “Yo~ Your new teacher is here! Try not to fall in love, alright?”

The other students laughed nervously.

You just stared.

And then he looked at you.

“…Oh,” he said. “You.”

“Have we… met?”

He didn’t answer right away. Just smiled a little, lopsided.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

You frowned, puzzled.

If Gojo Satoru was supposed to be a teacher, no one told him that.

He never explained anything properly. He’d show up late, yawn through explanations, wave his hand and say, “You’ll get it when it’s real.” Then disappear with the wind before you could ask any questions.

And then, during your first few missions, real nearly meant dead.

You remembered shaking so hard in a cold alleyway, breathing through panic as a curse lunged at your face.

Maybe I’m not strong enough for this. Maybe I don’t belong here.

But somehow, you always made it through.

You started paying attention to how the older students fought, how they worked together. You learned to listen, to rely on others instead of pushing them away.

Not like Gojo, not like the others, all fire and confidence. But little by little, you stopped comparing.

Your technique wasn’t showy. You could “mark” a space with your cursed energy. Once marked, you could return to it instantly. One at a time. Five-meter limit. But in tricky situations? It saved your life.

You'd work on your technique more later.

And after all the exhausting teamwork, the debriefs, the training, your favorite part of the day was when it was all over. You loved the quiet space after school. Browsing little shops, running your fingers over trinkets you didn’t plan to buy. It helped you breathe again. After spending so much time around people, it felt like reclaiming part of yourself.

That evening, you were walking out of a bookstore, bag of snacks in hand, when you caught sight of someone across the street.

At first, you thought it was just another tall guy with messy white hair.

But then he shifted, tilted his head up slightly, adjusting the blindfold.

What was he doing?

He was crouched low in an alleyway, facing a brick wall. One hand rested on the ground, the other raised in a position you couldn’t read from this distance. You thought you saw him whisper something.

Then the air around him distorted for a second, like heat waves off concrete. And just like that, he stood up casually and walked away like nothing had happened.

You ducked into the corner of the building. He hadn’t seen you.

You clutched your snack bag tighter, unsure what you’d just witnessed.

-----

The mission had been brutal. Three curses, a caved-in tunnel, and a close call where rusted metal nearly took your arm off. Afterward, Gojo declared that you’d all earned a reward.

"Buffet time!" he announced, grinning like he'd invented the concept of free food. "My treat. Don’t hold back!"

Some students held back on food during group outings, nervous about appearances. But not you. After near-death experiences, you'd learned to savor meals without apology. Food was a victory. A thank you to your body for not giving up.

You were stacking your second helping of fried chicken and curry buns when another plate nudged into view.

"Need a hand?" Gojo asked, suddenly beside you, "What kind of teacher would I be if I let you miss the dessert table?"

"You never help unless you want something."

"Or maybe I'm maturing. Becoming wise."

"Unlikely."

But you let him trail you as you scouted the dessert table.

"You ever think about the kids who used to push you around?"

"...What?"

"Back when you were small." 

"Yeah, I remember. It just... stopped one day."

"Just like that?"

"I figured they got bored. Or maybe—" You hesitated. "Maybe someone warned them off."

"I guess that’s when things started to change." you continued quietly. "My mom still didn’t come back, but… I made it work. That’s when I started noticing stuff other people didn’t." You gave a soft, ironic smile. "Turns out, I could see curses. Guess that was the trade-off."

For a beat, he just stood there, plates in hand.

"You seriously don't recognize me?"

"Should I?"

"Nah," he said, "Just saying."

Before you could press, he balanced his stack of dishes and turned back toward the table. "Keep up. If you wanna survive this life, you'll need more calories than that."

----

Gojo was gone again.

Of course he was.

The four of you were sent to handle what should've been an easy job—a village tucked in the mountains where people complained of bad dreams and creeping dread. Your orders were clear: get everyone out, then wait for backup.

At first, it was almost boring. Then the mountain came apart.

One moment, the earth was steady beneath your boots. The next, a deafening crack, the world tilting violently as trees snapped like twigs and a tide of mud and rock swallowed half the town. It didn't feel like an accident. It felt like something had wrenched the ground open.

You were herding the last stragglers to safety when the scream tore through the fog.

You and Sachi met eyes and ran uphill.

And then you saw it.

A curse so massive and malformed it didn’t seem real. Its body was twisted like it was made of teeth and wet soil. The last evacuees were already gone, slashed apart like paper dolls. Sachi gasped beside you, horrified.

This thing would erase you both in seconds.

You dropped your mark behind a thick cluster of trees and lured it away. Sachi mirrored you on the opposite side. It was all you could do. You couldn’t exorcise it. Not even touch it without dying.

But even curses get irritated when their prey won’t die fast enough.

You miscalculated. One second too slow. The thing's arm lashed out and hit you square across the back. You were flung through the underbrush like a ragdoll, gasping at the burning in your chest.

You couldn’t move.

Sachi called out to you, but you’d already pushed your mark onto her jacket earlier. With the last strength in your arm, you forced the cursed technique active.

She vanished from sight, thrown safely back to the base of the hill.

"Run" you coughed.

The curse turned toward you now.

Well… maybe this is a good place to stop.

The air itself seemed to fracture as reality twisted, like the sky itself had split open. In that suspended moment, everything froze, even the monstrous curse looming over you. Then a streak of white flashed across your vision, and suddenly the creature was simply gone.

"Seriously? I leave for one mission and you try to die already?"

You coughed, half-laughing and half-choking. "You were late."

"Got held up" He crouched beside you.

"Sachi’s safe."

Gojo was quiet for a second. Then gave a small, proud-sounding huff.

"You really love being the self-sacrificing type, huh?"

"Only on weekdays."

He laughed once. You felt him lift you off the ground with a ridiculous amount of ease, like you weighed nothing.

"Come on," he said, "buffet’s on me again. After you stop bleeding."

Your vision swam, but you smiled faintly, eyes fluttering.

You woke up to someone yelling your name.

“You’re awake—!” Sachi sobbed, immediately clinging to your arm like a lifeline. “You idiot!”

“...It wasn’t that bad.” you croaked “I’ve had worse papercuts.”

“She said you’d be fine,” Sachi sniffled, pointing at Shoko, who stood at the end of the bed looking mildly amused. “But what if... what if she was wrong?”

“I wasn’t.” Shoko said. “Your cursed energy just hit empty.”

“Still—!” Sachi huffed, but softened, already relieved enough to sulk instead.

You leaned back against the pillow and let the white ceiling blur out your thoughts.

They went to the buffet that evening—Gojo, Sachi, and the other two. Gojo invited you. But you’d quietly declined.

Your body felt better now. Your head, though, still buzzed. Like your nerves hadn’t caught up to your survival yet.

So you stayed in your room, wrapped in your hoodie, a book in your lap and music in your ears. You let yourself disappear between the lines of a novel, chewing slowly through some plain convenience store bread.

You were about to turn the page when you felt it.

That uneasy silence.

Your music was still playing. Your lights still on. But the air shifted in that weird, unnatural way, like a pressure drop before a storm.

Then came the footsteps. Coming down the hallway, stopping just outside your door.

You paused, sitting up.

The shadow cast beneath the door was tall, unmoving.

You weren’t one to scare easily, but something about it sent a chill along your spine. You picked up the desk lamp with a firm grip.

Tiptoed to the door. And opened it.

“…Seriously?” Gojo blinked down at you, looking more amused than surprised.

You stared at him, lamp still raised slightly.

He reeked faintly of alcohol. Not enough to suggest he was drunk. A scent of sweet liquor mixed with citrus, like he didn’t plan to come back smelling like this, but here he was anyway.

“Put the lamp down” he said.

“You scared me.” you muttered, lowering it slowly.

“I knocked” he lied.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “I meant to.”

You stood in the doorway, the two of you bathed in the warm hallway light. His hands were in his pockets, and his shoulders were relaxed in that particular way people get only when they’re tired but pretending not to be.

“Everyone passed out after dessert.” he said casually. “Didn’t feel like going back yet.”

“So you decided to haunt my hallway like a ghost.”

“Well, you do have the best snacks,” he said, leaning slightly to peek over your shoulder at your untouched bag of senbei on the desk. “Figured I’d steal some.”

You stepped aside.

He didn’t move.

Instead, he looked at you a second longer and asked, “You good?”

“I will be.”

That seemed to satisfy him. He gave a small nod back.

“Alright,” he said. “Just wanted to… check.”

“Why?”

He smiled a little, but there was something tired in his eyes.

“…Guess you remind me of someone.”

You opened your mouth, but he was already turning.

“Get some sleep,” he said over his shoulder, footsteps already retreating down the hallway. “Tomorrow’s boring again.”

You stood still for barely a second before snapping into motion.

You turned back to your desk, yanked open the top drawer, and pulled out the little bag of lollipops you always kept tucked inside. You dug around for a second, ignoring the melon flavor, skipping grape until you found the classic strawberry one.

Slipping out into the hallway, you jogged after him barefoot, lamp-light behind you flickering as you moved. You caught up just as he reached the far end, about to turn the corner.

“Gojo-sensei!”

He stopped, half-turned.

You held out the lollipop.

“…Here.”

He stared down at your hand for a beat. Then blinked, as if it took him a second to process the gesture. Like he’d been miles away in his head.

“That’s…?”

“Payment.” you said.

He huffed out a laugh through his nose, smiling as he took the candy from your palm. His fingers brushed yours just briefly. “Strawberry, huh. You’ve got good taste.”

“And maybe don’t haunt people’s doors smelling like alcohol next time.”

He chuckled again, unwrapping the candy slowly.

“Oh, and take a bath. You smell like a bar. Then go to sleep.”

Gojo stared at the lollipop for a second more, then, suddenly, his expression shifted.

His smile faded, just a little. His shoulders drew in.

And without warning, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you.

He was tall, broad, towering enough that you fit beneath his chin, and the warmth of him felt overwhelming all at once. You could feel the faint tremble in his chest.

“…Uh,” you muttered. “Okay?”

You gave a few awkward pats to his back, unsure what to say.

“You did this to me once, you know” he murmured.

You frowned up at him. “I hugged you?”

He shook his head, still not letting go. “No. You gave me candy and told me to stop smelling bad.”

You squinted, confused. “...Okay?”

But before you could ask what he meant, you gently pushed at his chest.

“Alright, sentimental ghost,” you said. “Back to your room.”

He let go slowly.

As you turned back toward your room, he lingered behind you just long enough to say:

“Thanks.”

You didn’t respond—just gave a half-hearted wave, closed your door, and leaned your back against it.

What was that all about…?

---

You were asleep when the footsteps woke you.

You threw on a jacket and opened your door. The hallway was dim, moonlight pooling through the high windows. You moved quietly.

You followed them. Down the hallway, down the outer stairs. Then across the courtyard, where the air hung strangely still. And then beyond, through the forested back path.

White hair that is visible in the dark. You saw him, Gojo. He was barefoot, wearing only a thin T-shirt and dark pants. His gait was off. Like he was… gliding.

“Is he… sleepwalking?” you whispered to yourself.

He walked through the trees. Down an overgrown slope and into the edges of town. You weren’t even sure why you kept going, maybe instinct, maybe that gnawing curiosity you never grew out of.

And then he turned into a narrow alley.

And vanished.

You ran forward, breath catching in your throat.

He was gone. No trace.

That same blurry ripple you’d seen before. A warping, like something wasn’t lining up with reality. Like you were remembering a dream before it dissolved.

You stared at the shadows for too long.

Then turned around and started back.

Halfway through the forest path, a voice stopped you.

“Why are you here?”

You spun around.

He stood there.

Gojo, now fully present. Dressed differently. Like he’d just woken up himself.

“That’s what I should ask you.”

He stared at you.

“I’m gonna start sleepwalking with barriers if you keep tailing me.”

You didn’t find it funny.

You both walked back in silence.

Nothing happened the next few days. Everything returned to normal.

Until that night.

You woke up to the sound of banging.

Like someone slamming their fist against a wall, over and over.

You sat up in bed.

No one else heard it?

You crept to the door.

Opened it slowly.

A shadow was there. Right in front of you.

You exhaled sharply. “Gojo—?”

But something was off.

And then, his hand lashed forward—unnaturally fast. Fingers wrapped around your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

You hit the floor hard, knees skidding against the wood, vision going dark at the edges. His face was blank. Not like Gojo’s usual blank. But… uncanny.

You kicked, clawed, tried to teleport, but your cursed energy wouldn’t respond.

You were going to die.

“OVER HERE!”

It was Sachi.

She rushed in, curse tool drawn. She saw what you saw. That thing that looked like him. She struck without hesitation.

The impact made the shadow-Gojo reel back, but only for a second.

Then it grabbed her by the arm. And twisted.

The crack was sickening.

The thing slammed her against the floor hard enough to break it. Then dragged her up by the throat.

You watched, helpless, as it drove its hand through her chest.

Blood splattered across the wall.

You couldn’t even scream.

And then the thing turned back to you.

You stared up, shaking, as it tilted its head.

Just as it stepped forward again—

The door shattered inward in a burst of light and force.

And the real Gojo stood there.

The room exploded in pressure and blue light.

You woke up in the infirmary again.

The ceiling looked the same as it did last time. But this time, the ache behind your ribs wasn’t from injury. It was emptier than that.

Shoko sat nearby, arms crossed loosely over her chest. When she noticed your eyes fluttering open, she stood and approached.

“Sachi.. Where is she?”

She didn’t answer. Just gave a quiet shake of her head.

That was all it took.

You turned away and curled in on yourself, letting the weight settle in your chest like wet cloth.

Gone.

You didn’t go to class that day.

The school was silent in its own way about these things. Everyone knew. Your two remaining teammates mourned at her grave that afternoon. You joined them later.

Riku, the boy in your group, calm and thoughtful, stood in silence for a long time with his hands tucked in his jacket sleeves. He barely looked at you, but when your legs finally gave out in front of the gravestone and the tears hit full force, he moved beside you and lent his shoulder without saying a word.

And Aoi, the girl with sun in her voice even when skies turned black, looked close to breaking too. But she held herself together, crouching beside you with a soft nudge “Sachi would beat us up if we cried this long.”

You choked a laugh through the sob.

“This is how Jujutsu life works, huh…” you muttered, wiping your eyes with the back of your sleeve. “You make friends, lose them, and have to keep going.”

Riku didn’t speak. Just rested a hand on your back.

Aoi nodded slowly, then wiped her own eyes. “So let’s keep going. Together.”

A week passed.

Gojo didn’t return.

You asked Shoko. She didn’t know where he was either.

You wanted answers.

How did that thing get in? Why did it look like him? What was it?

When you finally heard Gojo was back, you didn’t wait.

You just walked straight to the building where he usually hung out, some old classroom in a mostly-unused wing.

You opened the sliding door.

There he was.

Standing near the window. His back to you.

And across from him, other people.

They were tall too.

You didn’t recognize them at first glance, but something about the air shifted the second your foot hit the threshold.

Gojo turned around.

So did the strangers.

Their face looked exactly like his. Off by a fraction.

And Gojo didn’t look surprised to see you.

He looked tired.

Like he knew you’d come.

You didn’t see it coming.

One moment, Gojo and the stranger were staring at you, the next, something cracked against the back of your head.

You woke up slowly, like crawling through mud.

Your hands were tied.

Gojo sat across from you in a chair, arms resting lazily on his knees, blindfold gone.

“Hey.”

You didn’t reply.

“Still hurts? Sorry. I didn’t want it to be rough. But I couldn’t let you leave.”

“…What did you do?”

He leaned back in his chair, let out a sigh. “The thing you saw, that was… let’s call it an experiment.”

He continued. “I didn’t think it would become that aggressive, honestly. I just wanted to see if it could function on its own. Didn’t expect it to kill one of my students.”

“Sachi..” you whispered. “She’s dead because of you.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said, “But I’ll take responsibility. That’s why I’m telling you the truth.”

“Why me?”

Gojo looked at you. His eyes were painfully blue. And hollow.

"Back when I was losing myself," he said, "you reached out without even realizing it. I never forgot that."

“That doesn’t give you the right—”

“Maybe not.” He stood, walked toward you. “But I’ve already made up my mind.”

You flinched when he reached down.

His lips barely grazed yours, a whisper of contact.

You sank your teeth into his bottom lip.

Blood bloomed metallic across your tongue.

He didn’t even react. Just pulled away with the faintest smirk, licking the blood from his lip.

“Don’t worry. I’m not mad. You’ll see,” he said gently. “I only did this for you. I’ll eliminate everything that hurts you. Everything that stands between us.”

You stared at him, horrified. “You’re insane.”

He smiled again.

You were reported missing by the school two days later.

----EPILOGUES----

(1) ♡

The silence was broken by a faint sizzling sound.

You sat stiffly in the chair, half-watching as Gojo moved around the kitchen.

He wore a pale-blue apron over a simple black shirt, sleeves rolled up. He cracked an egg into a pan and turned over his shoulder.

“Any cravings? I’m open to requests.” he said casually. “Even those ridiculous sour noodles you like.”

You didn’t answer.

He only smiled.

"You're still giving me that look." he noted, stirring sugar into your abandoned coffee with infuriating calm. "I'm playing house with you. Voluntarily. You should feel special."

“I want to eat outside.”

“Pick something I can cook.”

“I want you to burn the kitchen down.”

He turned off the stove. Walked over. Leaned down and brushed your cheek with a thumb.

“I like it when you fight.” he said. “But don’t starve yourself over pride. You won’t win.”

You didn’t move. But your jaw tightened.

He walked back, still humming softly.

----

2) ♡♡

The mark was set.

You waited for him to fall asleep, or at least to leave. The moment the air quieted and his cursed presence faded to a whisper, you activated your technique.

Thud.

You hit something hard.

Your curse bounced back and dropped you right into the floor of the hall.

You coughed, groaned, and looked up.

Only to see him leaning casually in the doorway.

“Well,” Gojo said, “ten out of ten for creativity.”

“You were watching?”

“Oh, the whole time,” he said, walking over. “Let you think you had a chance. Kinda cute, honestly.”

You scrambled up, backing away.

He moved faster than you could blink, pressing you gently against the wall, one hand flat beside your face, lips hovering near your ear.

“I’m not mad,” he whispered. “But if you ever actually get out, I’ll erase the whole damn city looking for you.”

His tone dropped lower.

“Don’t make me prove that.”

---

3) ♡♡♡

He left.

Didn’t say when he’d return.

Just gave some vague line—“I’ll be back soon”—and left you with two unfamiliar attendants and a sealed house.

Days passed.

The servants didn’t answer much. They gave you food, books, whatever you asked for within limits. But it was like living in a gilded cage.

And when he finally returned, you didn’t even look at him.

You heard the front door open. His shoes. The pause when he noticed the untouched food.

He found you by the window, curled up with your back to the door.

“You didn’t eat?”

Silence.

“Did they treat you okay?”

Still nothing.

And then he walked over, knelt beside you.

“I’m sorry.”

You turned your face away.

"I shouldn’t have left that long."

You didn’t expect the blanket he draped around your shoulders.

Or the way he touched your hair.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

[neeeooon]

heyyy can I request bllk guys with a s/o who's like nagi? like they're lazy, dependent on them like nagi relies on reo etc.

I would prefer if you do the Itoshi's, Reo, Barou, Kunigami and Oliver. Thank you <3

yesss i love nagi idc idc TY FOR THE REQ!!

when you’re lazy

bf bllk x nagi!reader. some are lowk toxic

itoshi sae

-> he is not amused

-> sae’s life is very go, go, go. he has to be active often to keep in shape for his career, and though he typically likes doing that stuff alone, it can be a bit frustrating when you never entertain the idea of joining him

-> “y/n.” “hm?” “have you moved since i left this morning?” “yeah.” “cause i’ve been at practice for fourteen hours, and you’re in the same spot you were when i said goodbye.” “whatever. g’night.”

itoshi rin

-> “you’re being lazy.” “y’know, that google guy said he hires lazy people ‘cause he knows they’ll get the job done faster.” “… you don’t have a job.” “below the belt, itoshi.”

-> despite how much you hate it, you’ll go with him when he invites you to games or spontaneous trips to museums. you might drag your feet after ten minutes, but you keep your complains to a minimum when you’re with rin

-> however, the days where you do nothing but spend time together are your favorite. you don’t need anything but his presence to feel content, lazy or not

mikage reo

-> he spent his whole life getting pampered, so it’s nice taking care of someone else for a change

-> “reo, my legs hurt :(“ “oh? do you need some medicine? here, hop on, i’ll take you to the nurse!” because he has a nurse that lives in his penthouse

-> if he gets upset when you reject his invitations to go on dates outside, he doesn’t show it. “y/n! there’s this really nice restaurant that opened close by. wanna go?” “the pants have already come off, mikage.” “fair. movie night?” “yes!”

barou shouei

-> “you’re going to get sick,” barou sighed when he went to get you for lunch and found you laying in bed, still wet after your shower

-> groaning, you rolled around and let your phone drop from your hand. “i don’t wanna dry my hair.”

-> ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the floor between barou’s legs as he dries your hair, fingers lightly scraping your scalp and making you even sleepier than before

-> “will you promise to at least try and remember to dry your hair next time?” “why would i when you’re so much better at it?” “… damn you.” “:p”

kunigami rensuke

-> fists are firm on his hips as he stands in your bedroom doorway. it’s nearly 2 pm on a saturday, and you’ve yet to leave bed

-> “y/n, it’s time to get up.” “mmm, but it’s a saturday..” “you haven’t moved in five hours!” “don’t wanna—hey!” you groan when he grabs you by the ankles and drags you out of bed. “it’s nice outside! let’s go for a walk.” “you want me dead.”

-> contrary to popular (your) belief, kunigami does not want you dead—he wants you to be active and healthy and not hide in your room all day. “see? isn’t this so much nicer than your bed?” “debatable.” “well, that’s not a no!”

oliver aiku

-> he finds his lazy little partner to be the cutest thing in the world. loves doing things that should embarrass you, like cut your food and feed you in public, carry you around when you don’t want to walk, etc

-> now, just because you’re lazy doesn’t mean you don’t care about your boyfriend. if you see his gaze wandering while he’s with you, you’ll give his ear or hair a tug to remind him you’re still in the picture

-> “just cause i don’t wanna go out doesn’t mean you’re going without me to look at people who aren’t me.” “i would never !!” “🤨” okay, i promise to keep my eyes only on the photo of you in my heart-shaped locket.” “right answer.”

[beatrixst0nehill]

"Please, Master, let me go out and make more money for you today! I want more! I need to please more men, ooo you can take me to that homeless shelter and drop me off for the night so I can satisfy those poor, lonely men! And maybe catch a new bug or two! ❤️"

"Tiffany, I just spent an hour cleaning all that cum and piss off you, you filthy little whore. I can't let you back out, my pet."

"Awww, please! I need cock! I want to make you lots and lots of money, it's my purpose, Master! Please, I beg you!"

"Ughhhh, so bratty. I didn't think you'd turn out this way. I guess a few years of mindless sex and pushing out kids has turned your poor brain to mush. OK, I better let you go."

"Let me go, what do you mean, Master?"

The man snapped his fingers four times in quick succession.

Tiffany blinked a few times, confused, suddenly realizing she's naked. She covered her breasts, completely horrified. "Oh my god, what the fuck is going on!? Huh? My body......? My boobs are huge! Why do I have so many tattoos? I don't under--my belly! No, no, no, no, no! I can't be pregnant, what happened!?" She looked up. "Who are you, why would you.... wait, no...... I know you. You were that magician."

He gestured like he was tipping his hat. "At the county fair. Remember how skeptical you were?"

"Wait, no way. You actually hypnotized me!? I never would've gotten on that stage if any of this was real! You monster, what did you do to me?"

"What day is it? And how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen! It's June 22nd, 2022!"

"Wrong, my pet, you're 22, it's June 16th, 2025."

Tiffany loosened her arms around her engorged breasts. "How could you..... I just thought you'd do some dumb trick, you hypnotized me for three years, into what? Your girlfriend? And did you seriously knock me up? That's disgusting!"

"You aren't my girlfriend, you're my plaything. You were so annoying on stage, not playing along at all, not flirting, not having fun with my show, you just folded your arms and acted so nasty to me and my audience, I simply had to put you in your place. And I didn't get you pregnant, you sleep with hundreds of men every week, there's simply no way of knowing who the father is. Oh, and this is your fourth pregnancy, you've already given birth to fourteen children. Triplets. Quintuplets, and sextuplets. You're actually only five months along right now so you might very well be carrying octuplets for all I know."

Tiffany was devastated, rubbing her thighs together. She felt her big pregnant belly, she looked at her breasts and tattoos. "I feel.... hot."

"Hm? The bath's probably lukewarm at best now."

"No, I--oh......" Tiffany reached between her legs, to her extremely swollen, over-fucked, disease-ridden pussy. "Oh my god! It hurts! It itches so good.... wow!"

"Yeah, you probably have every STD in the book. As my pet you were quite proud of getting them."

"I can see why..... I mean, um, this is so gross! I can't believe you did this to..... mmmmmmm. Oh wow." Tiffany giggled, shamelessly rubbing her sex in the bath, right in front of her captor. "It never used to feel this good! Oh my god, oh fuck. I think...... sir, I really think I need sex. Do I take drugs, too? I think I need some....."

"Indeed, you're quite partial to taking a big dose of heroin, getting so high you're barely conscious, and letting a whole club or bar's worth of men fuck your brains out all night..... You don't seriously want to go back to any of these behaviors, right?"

"Uh-huh!" Tiffany enthusiastically nodded, licking her lips. "Am I still in college? Doesn't matter, ooooo, I can't wait to show my new body to my friends and family and show them what a whore I am! Do you think I can go out after my bath and take my new body out on a test run? I don't know how good I'll be at making money for you anymore, but I'll try, Master!"

"I knew three years was too long....." He sighed. "Poor thing, I really scrambled your independent, clever brain. I guess you're my responsibility now. I was going to do some shows and train a new girl instead...."

"Let's do it! I can be your assistant! Then I can have a slutty sister I teach to whore with me, and we can get pregnant together, and rub our swollen, diseased pussies together! Won't that be wonderful?"

The man drained the water, patting Tiffany's body. "OK, my pet, I'll get you reacclimated to your duties as my whore. And get you a sister or two to have fun with later this week."

"You're the best Master a dumb, cock-obsessed slut like me could ever ask for!"

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so he's his own warning. Don't read if he's not someone you enjoy reading fics about. Talk/threat of violence but nothing too explicit. Enemies to Lovers. Soulmate! AU

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 3,350

A/N: It's been a while between being sick and trying to get more of the Valentines Event requests caught up on but I needed my Doffy fix after a draining week. I'm not too happy with the ending for this chapter but it does the job in leading us to the next part of the story. Hope you all enjoy and as always thank you for the support and response to this story.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen(here) | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen (coming soon)

——————

“You’re staring.” You spoke up from your place on the sofa, your eyes reading over the morning paper leisurely. For the most part you’d ignored the feeling of Doflamingo’s stare on you but now you decided to call attention to his behaviour seeing as it was unlike him. 

“I can’t stop thinking about your face.” Immediately you turned your head to look at him peculiarly, eyebrow arching. This wasn’t his usual method of trying to get a reaction out of you. This seemed genuinely thoughtful. For a moment you observed him, watching him rest his chin on his had with his elbow propped up on the desk. Completely unmoving. With his dark glasses and relaxed breath anyone would have mistaken him for sleeping. 

“Okay, this should be good” You mused, discarding your paper now that this seemed to be the main issue of the afternoon. Turning in the seat you faced him fully. “What about my face has you so thoughtful?” 

“There’s still no mark.” He explained and you let out a loud sigh. Doflamingo couldn’t help but frown slightly at how annoyed you sounded. “What?”

“You’re still fixated on that? Have you ever considered that you might have a little bit of an obsessive personality?” You asked while getting to your feet. “It’s been days. If there was going to be a mark, it would have appeared already and like I told you the day it happened; I’m fine and it didn’t even hurt.”

“Regardless the fact is there should have been something. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Since when did anything with this whole soulmate thing make sense? Besides what would you have rather happen, Doffy?” You asked as you leant against the wall and stared blankly out the window while you listened to the Warlord turn in his chair to follow your movements. “Can’t you just be happy it happened this way? Otherwise you would have been pissed that a ‘lowly servant’ did what you haven’t been able to do yet. No mark means you can just act like it didn’t happen and we can continue as normal…or our version of normal at least.”

“That’s one way of looking at it…” Doflamingo hummed, leaning back in his seat to regard you carefully. “Still knowing what happened is a mystery. Is it possible that now being in the same room as the other makes us impervious to harm from others too?”

“Possibly.” You shrugged before letting out a small laugh. “Either that or I’m also soulmates with that servant.” At that you felt Doflamingo’s shadow looming over you and you tilted your head back to smirk at him, not surprised by his speed or sudden proximity. “Oh lighten up, I was joking. One soulmate is more than enough, especially a handful like you.”

“Handful? I’ll have you know I’ve been on my best behaviour.” Doflamingo chuckled, his previous annoyance at the reminder of the servant-who’d been smart enough to stay out of his way as well as yours- leaving swiftly the more he stared at your amused expression. He grinned as his lens-covered eyes drifted to your curved lips. “Really you should be more grateful.”

“Should I? I’ll take that into consideration but if memory serves I think I’ve been more than generous with my gratitude when you’ve actually been well behaved.” You informed him with a casual smile before looking back out the window while his grin grew. While there had been no more kisses shared between the two of you since that day, it was still fresh in both of your minds. 

Apart from a few passing remarks and subtle glances there were no deeper conversations or direct attention called to the two kisses shared, because doing so would certainly mean having to face the fact that feelings were changing and had been for while. Luckily for you both the conversation changed when you stifled a long yawn and rubbed your neck. Feeling Doflamingo’s stare again you looked to him, seeing the grin had lessened, his jaw tight. “What?”

“Are you not sleeping again?” Doflamingo reached out and tucked his finger under your chin to coax you to look at him. Not unlike when he was looking for a mark, he stared over your features with intent scrutiny only this time he wasn’t fuelled with fury that someone could have hurt you. 

“Took a little while to fall asleep.” You admitted, unbothered. “I woke up early too.” For some reason that didn’t seem to ease Doflamingo’s slight tension. Abruptly he moved his hand from your chin to lightly touch your forehead with the back of his hand. Confused, you pulled your head away from his fingers and looked at him curiously. “What’s up with you today?”

“Just checking.” Doflamingo answered, stepping away to return to his desk. Silently he was relieved to feel your temperature felt fine, the second you’d mentioned not sleeping well he couldn’t help but think of the last time you’d mentioned something similar. Try as he might, the unwanted image of your sick and weakened form lying in bed and struggling for breath still occurred in his thoughts every so often. This was the first time it’d happened while you were standing in front of him, healthy and thriving. Lifting a random missive he absently tried to focus on it but cast it aside just as fast as he’d picked it up, unwilling and unable to retain any of the words on the paper. 

With a sigh he pinching the bridge of his nose and sat back again. You moved to the back of his seat and pushed it down, forcing it to recline at the lazy pace you’d set. When Doflamingo’s face was directly under yours you lightly tapped his forehead and waited to feel his stare from behind the dark lenses. “Same question to you; are you not sleeping?” 

“Course I am.”

“Okay fine, I’ll rephrase it: have you been sleeping well?” You asked, refusing to believe his relaxed grin for a second. 

“No, but then I never do.” Doflamingo chuckled, unbothered. He was used to his unrecommended sleeping habits that he’d had for countless years. Yes he found sleep, usually a couple hours at a time throughout the night with stretches of restlessness and tossing and turning sprinkled in between. Some nights he didn’t even sleep at all, deciding to just stay awake and work. It was very rare for him to have a full and restful night of uninterrupted slumber because almost without fail if he did fall asleep fast enough, some form of nightmare of his past or unsettled dreams that would swiftly wake him.

“What about when I fell asleep on you? Or when you had to hold me to ensure I slept?” You asked, the different incidences coming to your memory. “You seemed peaceful those times when I woke and you were still sleeping.” Doflamingo considered it for a minute. When you’d fallen asleep on him right here in the office because of heavy sleep deprivation, he had fallen asleep too not long after and awoken only when you did. Thinking back he had slept soundly then, just as he had when he’d held you to stop you feeling pain. Yes, he woke up throughout the night when the doctors came in to do their checks and apart from his vigilance on your changing condition he could silently admit in the sleep he had felt rested all the same. Doflamingo gave a small thoughtful hum and you smirked. “Regardless, your biggest issue is you’re too tense which is strange given how much you smile.”

“I’m not ‘too tense’ you’re imagining things.” Doflamingo chuckled, making a point to kick his feet up onto the desk and tuck his hands behind his head in a show of perfect ease. Still you stared at him expectantly and unconvinced. 

“I felt your neck the day the door hit me-”

“-by the servant-” Doflamingo tried to interject but you continued over him.

“-and you were tense. Bet the rest of your back is just as bad if not worse.”

“I’m fine, I’m in perfect shape and able to rule the country and command my subordinates as effectively as I always have.” Doflamingo dismissed your words while you took a breath and stepped away from the back of his chair.

“Okay. Understood.” You said with a little too much sweetness and acceptance in your tone. Before you moved too far, Doflamingo’s hand caught your wrist, immediately suspicious. His distrust only grew when you looked down to smile at him innocently. “Yes?”

“What? Why’re you dropping it so easily?”

“Because unlike you I’m not obsessive?” You asked calmly, your smile unmoving. “I just know not to push these types of topics. Especially for fragile egos that don’t want to admit they were wrong. You say you’re not tense? Then you’re not tense.” Doflamingo bit back the urge to snap that he didn’t have a fragile ego. He saw the bait being dangled in front of him, he saw the dangerous but playful challenge in your stare. You wanted to play? Fine. 

“I have no issue admitting I’m wrong when it actually happens, it’s just never happened of course but I welcome the opportunity.” He began smoothly, standing from his seat and releasing your wrist. “Go on then. Prove I’m too tense to sleep properly but even just trying is going to cost you.”

“What’s the price?” You asked warily, eyes narrowing at how smug he now seemed. 

“You have to spend more time with the family for a whole week; at least one meal a day. Oh and you have to talk, no sitting in silence.” Immediately your expression tensed. Doflamingo was truly a bastard when he wanted to be and setting the cost this high for just an attempt was proof of that. Still if you could prove you were right and he was wrong that meant you got gloating rights for life. That would make enduring the company of his ‘family’ worth it. Resolve steeling you adopted your sweet smile once more and held out your hand to shake it. Doflamingo paused for the smallest moment, pleasantly surprised at your dedication and willingness to do what was necessary. Grinning he took your hand into his and shook it firmly. 

————

You allowed Doflamingo time to see to his urgent matters of the day before working on proving your point. By midday he’d finished and found you in your room softly playing the violin to pass the time. At the sound of the door opening and closing behind him you played the last note and jerked your head towards the bed. “Lie down.”

“Someone’s eager.” Doflamingo chuckled and did as you said, not fully lying down until you sat down on the mattress beside him. Lightly you pushed his shoulder and made him settle onto his stomach. He folded his arms under one of the pillows and turned his head to the side to watch you. 

Without hesitating you reached out, fingers moving against his neck and applying decent pressure against the knots you were right to assume were there. Slowly massaging and taking your time to work away the tension before moving on to his shoulders. Your lips quirked slightly when you felt Doflamingo sink a little more into the comfort of the mattress and heard his breathing shift into one of genuine calm. The tiny smile grew into a fully vindicated grin when you moved to the centre of his back where the largest knot of tensed muscle you’d felt yet was. Under your careful and diligent movements you heard a low, satisfied groan escape when it practically melted away. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were falling asleep…”

“So smug…annoying.” You couldn’t help but laugh at how his deep voice was now thick with grogginess. In a matter of seconds you removed the final point of tightness in his back and felt the subtle change and then heard the deep relaxed breaths as he fell over to sleep.

For hours there was no sign of Doflamingo in the palace. The servants and lower rank subordinates had initially been worried that their ruler was in his office, growing more and more uneasy that he could appear at any moment in a foul and murderous mood. If anything the silence was more stressful for them to contend with because they just had no way of knowing if Doflamingo was planning something and their imaginations immediately went to the most terrifying thoughts their creativity could conjure. It didn’t matter that you’d told them almost immediately that Doflamingo was just sleeping, they just couldn’t believe you and any that did at first, became distrustful when his rest stretched beyond the typical half hour he would normally have. It just seemed so unnatural to them.

When Doflamingo finally stirred he opened his eyes to the darkness of your room. Taking a long breath he rolled onto his back and slowly moved to sit up while his mind caught up to the current situation. This was the first time in a long time he’d actually slept for so long and so deeply. There had been no fitful dreams or nightmares, no slight disturbance or noise that would break through his subconscious and wake him. He felt rested and honestly he felt disgruntled because you were right. Looking around the room he saw you weren’t there and with a sigh he rose from the comfort of the bed and stepped out into the corridor, taking long casual strides towards the drawing room his family usually spent their time in before dinner. 

Entering the room he surveyed the scene of his family interacting. Everything looked the same as he always found except for the unexpected sight of you sitting opposite Diamanté with a chess board between you both. Trebol stood oppressively close to his fellow elite officer, laughing at how the man hesitated to make his next move. You sat perfectly relaxed, your eyes only drifting from the board to meet Doflamingo’s gaze when he stepped into the room. Immediately the others�� sensed his presence and the conversations stopped, everyone looking to Doflamingo as he walked through the room, coming to a stop at the table and inspected the board. Immediately everyone else returned to their previous conversations, knowing not to mention their King’s absence for most of the day if he wasn’t going to. Diamanté was the first to address their master. “Dinner’s going to be ready soon, Doffy.”

“Good, I’m starving.” He grinned, looking to the officer. “What’s your next move Diamanté?”

“Don’t pressure him, he’s been stuck for ten minutes.” You finally spoke up to smile at the officer who’s mood had soured the longer the game had lasted because at first he believed you knew next to nothing about how to play. Doflamingo chuckled stepping around to stand behind your seat and watch. “Maybe a nap will help sharpen your mind? What do you think, Doffy?”

“Couldn’t do any harm.” Doflamingo grinned lightly squeezing your shoulder.

As agreed you joined the family for their dinner, your seat beside Doflamingo just as it had been during the pirate’s banquet so long ago. Just as you’d done while in the drawing room before Doflamingo woke up, you talked lightly with the family, engaged in conversation politely while also not being afraid of shutting them down when they overstepped in a comment or question you weren’t going to answer. You brought no attention to it but it did surprise you when they didn’t push or pry. When you shut those topics down, they swiftly moved to different conversations. 

It wasn’t complete torture but you were still relieved when the meal was over and you were heading towards your room, hoping you got as good a night’s sleep as you’d helped Doflamingo get. A long yawn built in your chest and you covered your mouth as you reached for the door to your room, only to stop when Doflamingo spoke up. “So what meal are you going to join everyone for tomorrow?”

“Breakfast. Better to get it out of the way first.” You explained with a smile as Doflamingo laughed. You stood in the open doorway of your room but didn’t fully enter, facing the man with an expectant look. “I’m still waiting to hear something from you.”

“And that would be?” Doflamingo stared at you, head tilted slightly in curiosity.

“You said you had no issue admitting you were wrong when it happened. Come on then.” Doflamingo let out a small huff and you smirked knowing he needed a little push. “No, you’re right we shouldn’t keep this between us. Let’s save your declaration for tomorrow at breakfast with the rest of the family present? Good idea. Night, Doffy.” You stepped inside and prepared to close the door only to blink in mild surprise when Doflamingo had already stepped inside and braced his hand against the wood to prevent it from closing you off from him. His free hand slipped around your waist and pulled you forward. 

“Fine.” Doflamingo uttered, a reluctant sigh building in his chest as he leant in. “You might have had a point and helped me sleep after all.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s a better way to phrase that sentiment.”

“So high maintenance…” Doflamingo tutted under his breath. “Fine. I was a little bit wrong.”

“So humble.” You smirked. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“You really are annoying when you’re smug. You know that?” Doflamingo chuckled, pressing a quick and unexpected kiss against your forehead before letting you go. “Go on, get to bed.”

————

Doflamingo was pleasantly surprised to find that you kept up your side of the deal without complaint for the full week. You interacted with the family as he’d requested you would and had at least one meal a day with the full family. The family itself never drew any attention to the development even when some did cast you a curious look when you entered the dining room for the chosen meal you’d attend for the day. 

When the week was over he walked down the corridor and entered your room expecting to see you sitting at your table by the window. Instead he looked to see you still in bed, curled up against the covers and sleeping deeply. At the soft click of the door shutting he watched your eyes slowly crack open. Blearily you blinked and focused your gaze on his face. Yawning, you stretched out and pushed yourself to sit up in the bed. “Everyone missing me already?” You asked before stopping to yawn again. “Can’t they wait until lunchtime?”

“You’re going to continue dining with them?” Doflamingo asked as you relaxed against the pillows. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Seeing them try to work out why I’m there is entertaining. Might as well make the most out of their confusion while it lasts.” You shrugged lightly. Stretching one last time you reluctantly dragged yourself out of the bed, knowing that if you didn’t move now you would have probably risked falling to sleep again. Sitting down in your seat by the window, you said nothing as Doflamingo took his seat but you turned your head when he set a small envelope in front of you. You cast him a brief glance before lifting the envelope and opening it. 

You pulled out the thick and expensive card and read it over with a confused frown. “What’s this?”

“My invite to another pointless gathering of the Grand Line’s rich and powerful. Want to go?”

“You said you hated these kinds of things. Pointless and boring, remember?”

“Yes, I did say that and I stand by it.” Doflamingo nodded. “However you said you’ve never gotten to experience this kind of thing as a guest. So, what do you say?”

You looked down at the invitation once more. It was tempting, you weren’t going to lie. Silently you chewed your lower lip for a moment as you considered it. 

“When do we go?”  

——————————————-

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[softspiderling]

illicit affairs - part fourteen | r.c

summary:

“That your parents?”

“No,” you replied, subtly angling your phone away from Topper as you declined the call. “Not important.”

The screen just turned black before it lit up again, the ringtone loud as it announced another call from JJ. Good lord.

“Must be pretty important,” Topper mused and you only sighed, accepting the call.

“What.”

OR; Your secrets come to light. One way or another.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader, jj maybank x reader (I feel like I should've added this sooner oh well)

warnings: bike crash (LOL) with minor injuries, angst, alluding to drug use, mini pov switch at the end (oh?👀)

word count: 3.4k

author's note: honestly i didn’t think id update again so soon, but here we are. also shoutout to @inthelibrarybtw for guessing the chapter’s title. you’re a day one-r and i love and appreciate you being with me from the start (she’s not the only one, there’s a few; you know who you are!🩷) happy reading!! 🫶🏼

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

pt. fourteen: “like you don’t even exist”

You had never lied to Rafe before. And not telling him you were in love with him didn’t count. That wasn’t a lie. It was a secret. No, you never actively lied to him about something as trivial as who you were spending time with. What even was the reason? That you knew Rafe hated JJ’s guts and you were trying to save yourself some drama? Or was it just the kind of friendship you and Rafe now had? The one where you didn’t tell him things.

“Honey?”

You lifted your eyes from your plate, where you had spent the last five minutes pushing your steak around, to see your parents look at you expectantly.

“Sorry, did you say something?”

Your parents had taken you to Charleston over the weekend, something about spending more time with the family and whatnot. Normally, you’d drag your feet, spending a whole weekend away with just your parents, a fight almost inevitable. But this time, you actually appreciated the short trip. It was nice to get away from everyone for a bit. And for once, you didn’t have to come up with an excuse not to see your friends. Also you couldn’t quite look JJ in the eyes yet without feeling guilty that you had thought of Rafe when you almost hooked up with him. In some way, you were sure JJ wouldn’t actually mind. He’d probably find it hilarious.

“I was just asking if everything was alright with your food, you haven’t even taken a bite,” your father asked, his brow raised.

“Oh.”

You put the cutlery down, leaning back in your chair. “Food is fine. I’m just not really hungry. Sorry,” you said with an apologetic tone, pushing the plate away from you.

“Is everything okay with you?” your mother asked, and you looked at her in surprise. If your mother was concerned, things must be really serious. “You’ve seemed upset lately.”

“I know you feel like you’re too old to spend time with us especially since your brother left, but we really appreciate you coming along. We know you’d rather spend time with your friends,” your father added. Hearing him say that made you feel a little guilty because you actually weren’t even mad about being here with them, but before you could reply, someone laid their hand on your shoulder. You looked up quickly, because there was no way a stranger would just touch you like this, just to see Topper and his grandpa stand behind you.

“Look who we have here,” Judge Holden spoke cheerfully and your parents quickly stood to greet him.

“Judge, what a surprise!” your father exclaimed, shaking the Judge’s hand. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” you said, pushing your chair back to stand, leaning into Topper when he wrapped his arms around you for a hug. “I didn’t know you were in Charleston tonight.”

“Well, you haven’t really been talking to me lately, so how was I supposed to tell you?”

Ouch.

His words were biting, but when he pulled away, you could see the hurt in his eyes. You definitely deserved that. Considering he was one of your best friends, his been treating him like a distant acquaintance.

“Judge, why don’t you sit down, have a glass of wine with us,” your mother asked and Topper’s grandpa didn’t let her ask him twice before he sat down at your chair.

“You kids will be fine on your own, right?” your father said, effectively dismissing you as you and Topper exchanged glances, with him extending his arm for you to walk ahead. So much for quality family time.

You exited the restaurant onto the side walk, thinking some fresh air would do you good. Topper walked next to you in silence, his hands stuffed in his pockets. You knew what was coming, so you stayed quiet, trying to push the inevitable lecture back for as long as possible.

“So I’m assuming you and Rafe broke off whatever you were doing?”

Well, that wasn’t long.

Lifting your head, you glanced at him, but he only stared back at you, waiting for you to answer.

“That obvious, huh?” you deadpanned and Topper rolled his eyes with a sigh.

“I’m not gonna say I told you so, but honestly, what were you thinking?”

That stepping over this boundary would make Rafe stop seeing you only as is best friend? That he would realize he loved you too? Or maybe you weren’t thinking at all. You didn’t know which of these made you sound dumber. God, you really were a walking cliché, weren’t you?

“I know,” you said quietly, turning away because embarassment was burning your cheeks. You felt like you were five again, getting scolded by your mom because you took too much candy, because in a way, you were. It just wasn’t candy that you wanted.

“You know it sucks not having you around,” Topper pointed out, his voice softening. “Your feminine energy is missing and it throws our whole dynamic off.”

His attempt at lightening the mood made you snort out a laugh, and Topper only shrugged with his shoulders, pleased that he was able to cheer you up a little.

“I’m sorry,” you said, sighing. “I hate all of this and I miss spending time with you. I just don’t know how to be around Rafe right now, which is weird for me and-”

You were interrupted mid-word, when your phone started ringing and as you pulled it out of your purse, thinking it might be your parents asking where you were, JJ’s name flashed across the screen.

“That your parents?”

“No,” you replied, subtly angling your phone away from Topper as you declined the call. “Not important.”

The screen just turned black before it lit up again, the ringtone loud as it announced another call from JJ. Good lord.

“Must be pretty important,” Topper mused and you only sighed, accepting the call.

“What.”

“Aw, you don’t sound happy to hear from me,” JJ whined into the phone, surely with the matching pout.

“What am I, your wife?” you asked dryly and JJ chuckled.

“Do you want to be?”

You bit back a grin with an eye roll, turning away from Topper when he raised a brow at you. You hoped to god he couldn’t hear JJ over the phone. That really was the last thing you needed.

“What do you want?”

“Can’t I just call because I miss your voice?”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Wait wait wait, okay,” JJ stopped you with a laugh. “I just wanted to ask when you’re gonna be back. It’s weird not having you around.”

“It’s a common effect I have on people,” you teased. “Honestly, though, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. My parents didn’t exactly give me an itinerary for this weekend. But I’ll let you know, okay?”

“’kay. See you Sunday then, the latest.”

“Bye,” you spoke into your phone before hanging up, shaking your head a little. What an idiot. As you put your phone back into your purse, you could feel Topper’s eyes on you, and when you looked up, his lips were draw in a tight line, displaying how unhappy he was.

Great, so he heard everything.

“Maybank? Really?”

You bit back a groan, surely that would not help your situation right now.

“What about him?” you asked back and Topper rolled his eyes.

“Do I have to remind you of the last time you were standing between JJ and Rafe?”

You frowned at him, pursing your lips. “Yes. Because I never stood between them.”

“Don’t play stupid. Rafe almost blew a casket when he saw JJ working the spring fling, and now you’re seeing him? Worse, you’re keeping it from Rafe?”

Now it was your turn, to roll your eyes.

“Are you doing this just to get back at Rafe?”

His words hit you hard, the way he intended, you were sure.

“What? No! This has nothing to do with Rafe!”

That wasn’t completely true. It had everything to do with Rafe. But not in the way Topper was thinking. Clenching your fists, you felt your nails dig into the flesh of your palm, the pain calming you a little bit.

Not the time and place to have a screaming match. You exhaled deeply, unclenching your hands.

“Look, just… Don’t tell him yet, okay? He’s gonna flip out, just let me deal with it,” you asked Topper. “You know I’m better at that.”

Topper puffed out a breath, like he was contemplating your request. In a way, you knew you were asking him to keep this from Rafe, but you also knew that Topper dropping this bomb on Rafe would be catastrophic. It seemed liked Topper came to the same conclusion before he begrudgingly agreed.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you really do have to tell him, Precious and I mean it.”

“I promise.”

You intended to keep that promise, you did. But everything got so hectic when you got back to Kildare and you never got around to telling Rafe. Yes, you could have texted him, but wasn’t this the kind of conversation you had face to face?

Topper [05/25/24: 11:49 am]: did you tell him yet?

With a sigh, you swiped the message away, tossing your phone in your purse and got out of your car. Later, you told yourself. Right now, you had to make sure JJ wouldn’t kill himself during this motorcycle race.

When he had originally told you he wanted to sign up, you tried your best to convince him not to. His bike was in no condition to win a race. But he had set his mind on it, vowing to win the race and to take you out for a nice dinner on Figure Eight. I can buy myself a nice dinner, you had wanted to say, but didn’t. Not like you wanted to start a fight.

Fortunately though, you and Sarah managed to convince John B to race with JJ, keeping his back free. That eased your worries, if only slightly. Walking down the dunes of the beach, you quickly found JJ and his friends standing around his and John B’s bike at the sidelines, talking strategy.

“- so if you’ve got my back, I got a real shot.”

“What kind of miracle work are you trying to do here?”

JJ lifted his head, grinning when he saw you. “No miracle here, just plain ol’e racing skills.”

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms as you stopped next to Sarah and Kiara, watching Pope and John B fuss over his bike before you turned to the girls.

“I take it you didn’t manage to talk him out of it yet.”

“Have you seen him?” Kiara scoffed, gesturing towards JJ. Which… Fair.

You gave JJ a look as you walked towards him, placing your hand on his chest.

“JJ.”

“No, you vixen, you’re not seducing me out of this,” JJ protested, though his hands find your waist. “I’m doing this race and there’s nothing you can do to talk me out of it.”

“You sure?”

Your hand creeped up his neck, before your fingers tilted his chin down, so you could lean up to kiss him. JJ groaned into your mouth, but he made no move to pull away.

“What the hell?”

You two broke apart, your heart starting to race as soon as you recognized his voice, willing for someone else to stand in front of you, but of course, it was Rafe.

He stomped towards you, dressed in biking gear from head to toe, Topper and Kelce hot on his heels. You should’ve know they’d be here. This was on you.

Rafe stopped only a few feet from you, his eyes darting from you to JJ and back, before his gaze set on you. In the back, Topper and Kelce exchanged nervous glances.

“So this was who you were hanging out with that night?” Rafe asked his voice rising. His question was posed in a way you knew he didn’t want an answer to. And honestly, even if he did, you weren’t sure what to say.

Rafe was angry. Angrier than you’d seen him before, acting a little erratic, his eyes wild. And something else was different. He’d never talked to you like this before.

To others, sure. You? Never.

Next to you, JJ tensed, trying to push himself in front of you, his friends at your back, unsure what to do, but you gently gave JJ a shove to the back, stepping in front of him to face Rafe.

“You lied to me? For him?”

He gestured towards JJ with his hand, not even sparing him a glance, like he wasn’t even there. No, Rafe’s attention, and his anger was all aimed at you. You opened your mouth to say something, but it was like your brain short-circuited.

“Come on, Rafe, chill,” Topper said coming to your rescue. From the back, he flexed his hand around Rafe’s shoulder, trying to de-escalate the situation, subtly pulling him away from you. “Precious probably just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Clearly, the words had the opposite effect because Rafe turned towards Topper, his eyes narrowing.

“Did you know about this?”

“I…” Topper trailed off, his eyes finding yours, which Rafe was quick to notice.

“Great, what an amazing group of friends I have,” Rafe exclaimed melodramatically, turning to Kelce. “You hooking up with any of them, too?”

Kelce gave Rafe a look, lifting both of his hands as he shook his head. “Hey man, keep me out of this.”

Rafe scoffed before looked back at you, like he was expecting an answer. You knew he’d react badly, but this was on another level.

“Rafe, please, can we have a civil conversation about this?” you asked him, almost pleading.

But the boomboxes around the track cracked to life before Rafe could answer.

“Attention all racers, please take your place at the start line, the race is about to start!”

The announcement broke through the disagreement like a dull knife and you pressed your lips together as you looked at Rafe. But he only shook his head, letting out a huff.

“Whatever.”

He shouldered past Topper roughly without another word, heading to his bike, leaving you at a loss for words. Topper glanced at you, his eyes saying more than he ever could with his mouth before following Rafe. Only Kelce lingered by you, his eyes flickering to JJ before he asked: “Are you okay?”

You put up a smile, nodding. “Yeah, fine. Go. I’ll be okay.”

Kelce hesitated. You knew you weren’t convincing him, part of you wished he’d refuse your words, stay with you, but then he only nodded, walking off. The lump in your throat grew, and you tried to swallow it when you felt JJ’s hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, I’m really sorry, but I gotta go,” he said gently, and you cleared your throat, the people in front of you dispersing, giving you a perfect look on Rafe, as he sat on his bike, pulling his helmet over his head.

“‘course, yeah.”

“Good luck kiss?”

Your eyes averted from Rafe to see JJ looking at you expectantly, one brow raised. Sighing softly, you leaned in to press a soft smooch on his lips, but before you could pull away, JJ grabbed your waist, deepening the kiss. After a few seconds, he pulled away, giving you his signature grin and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Rafe turning away from you.

“Alright, let’s win this thing,”

“Just be careful, okay?”

You knew Rafe was out for blood, and while he was so mad at you right now, he wouldn’t hurt you. JJ though? You weren’t so sure about that.

“Ah, don’t worry princess, I’ll get back to you in one piece,” JJ said with a wink, before he and John B lead their bikes towards the startling line.

“This isn’t gonna end well, is it?” Sarah asked, coming up to stand next to you. You let your eyes wander over the racers, a mixture off Pogues and Kooks, JJ and John B, Rafe and Topper. As you crossed your arms over your chest, you shook your head.

“Not a chance.”

The shot of the gun announcing the start of the race made you jump a little, all the bikes racing down the beach. Surprisingly, JJ was at the front of the group, making a headstart as they crossed into the woody parts of the beach, cutting off any chance of seeing more.

It wasn’t long until the the group of racers returned to the part of the beach the viewers could see, however it wasn’t JJ at the front anymore, but Rafe.

“What the hell?” you muttered, your eyebrows creasing.

“Look, John B is third,” Sarah pointed out, gently shaking your shoulder. “JJ must have just fallen behind.”

“Right,” you muttered, as Rafe came closer to the finish goal. But then, a loud, and just all too familiar engine roared, a bike flying over the small river bank, and it was like everything was in slow motion when JJ flew through the air, clinging to his bike, his one and only lifeline.

“What…?” Pope muttered, facepalming and you nearly couldn’t watch, but your eyes were glued to JJ, until he finally landed on the sand back on the track, a little inelegant, albeit safely, just in front of Rafe.

“Holy fuck, did that really just happen?” Kiara asked, covering her mouth as JJ’s bike sped forwards.

“Is JJ actually gonna win?” Sarah muttered, and you only shrugged with your shoulders, though it seemed like Rafe wasn’t able to catch up with JJ, his front wheel just barely catching up with JJ’s tail.

JJ threw his fist up briefly, no doubt to celebrate his win prematurely, but just as both of his hands curled around the steering wheel again, Rafe sped up his bike, crashing it into the back of JJ’s sending them of them flying off their bikes. They both landed in the sand with a thud, the remaining racers driving past them, with Topper reaching the finish line first.

“Oh my god,” you muttered, your hand flying to your mouth. Your feet moved towards them automatically, your eyes flickering towards Rafe like on instinct, but he already was up on his feet, pulling his helmet off his head. JJ on the other hand, rolled over on his back, groaning out in pain.

“Are you insane?” you hissed at Rafe, scanning him from top to bottom for any visible injuries. “You could have killed yourself.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, kneeling down on the sand next to you JJ, your forehead creasing in worry.

“Are you okay?”

JJ didn’t reply, slowly pulling his helmet off before he looked at you, the corner of his lips tugging into a grin. “Princess, you really take my breath away.”

You let out a shaky laugh, sitting down in relief. You didn’t know what you would have done if JJ was seriously hurt, knowing Rafe had lashed out because of your fight. If anything had happened to JJ, it would’ve been your fault.

“Wait, how’s my bike?” JJ asked, his eyes widening. You looked over his bike, a small trail of smoke coming from it. It definitely had seen better days.

“Let’s worry about you first,” you said, changing the topic. “Do you think you can stand?”

As you helped him stand, arms supporting his waist, his friends finally rushed over. From a distance, Rafe stood in the sand, his helmet in his limp hands, staring at you as Topper stomped towards him, his own helmet jammed under his arm.

“I know she lied to you, and I’m sorry for my part in it,” Topper said in a somber voice. “But don’t you think that was too far?”

Rafe finally tore his eyes away from you to meet Topper’s, his lips pressed in a line. His thoughts were still a bit hazy, and he wasn’t sure if it was from the fall, or the line he did with Barry before he came here, but he never felt more justified in his actions.

“Wasn’t far enough.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: THOUGHTS??

[aquarius-johnny]

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝒔𝒖𝒉 𝒎.𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕: 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕 ⏾

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[its-in-the-woods]

About Damn Time

~ Series of smutty one-shots with Congressmen Bucky Barnes ~

Masterlist

MINORS and AI dickbags GET OUT.

Synopsis: You and the congressmen have been dating for a while now, and you cannot wait to jump his bones any longer.

Pairing: James Buchanan Barnes/Bucky x You/x reader (afab) no use of y/n

Word count: 4.6k

Rating/Warning: Established relationship, somewhere between TFATWS and Thunderbolts*. CongressmenBucky, p in v, slight dombucky subby reader, Smut, oral (f), slight body image issues from everyone, ingering, creampie (wrap it), biting, kissing, cussing, fun to bad had

Author notes: This will probably end up being a series of cute, funny, and ridiculously smutty one-shots. Enjoy, tell your friends ;)

All mistakes, grammar, and plot holes are my own.

You met him at a veterans' fundraiser, he had been kind, caring, easy to talk to. He’d sit with anyone who wanted to speak to him, really let them be heard. It was clear that was why he had gotten the votes, his actual care for others seeped through his pores. It was so rare a sight in the modern day.  So when he came to sit beside you, you were surprised. You had arranged the event, invited many members who were running for congress, but Mr. Barnes had been the only one that had stayed.  The only one that couldn't keep his eyes off you.

“Thank you for organizing the event,” He said quietly, sitting beside you, right hand fiddling with the glove covering the left. 

You smile, “Thank you for staying. Means a lot to the vets to hear from you. “

Just like that it started. 

He’d show up at your job, always bringing coffee or something sweet. You were pretty certain that some of your co-workers had let slip what you enjoyed to the charming congressmen. It also helped that he never missed an event. Barnes was old-fashioned that way; he didn’t push, didn’t press things, just showed up. Until finally you gave him your number, and told him if he didn’t set up a date, you would. 

He picked you up at your place, flowers in hand, opening up your door and pulling out your chair. The place was small, tucked away in Brooklyn. The owner knew him by name, you caught him giving a thumbs up to James, Bucky. 

You knew then that you’d have taken him home that night. Months of talking and flirting, it had felt right. But after making out in his car like you were fourteen again, he’d walked you to your door, kissed your forehead, and walked back to his car. Promising it would be worth the wait.

That had been four dates ago, several coffees, and a dozen run-ins, and you were not waiting any longer. The man was going to be the death of you, and you were determined to get him through that door somehow. 

“So, I am leaving in about fifteen, going to stay at Chad’s place,” Your roommate, Dahlia, said from the other side of the door. “And I really need to pee!” She grumbles, “Isn’t this like your five hundredths date, is he impotent or something?” 

You open the door with a huff, “No, He is not impotent.” Stopping for a second you think of that. “Okay, just because he is over a hundred years old, doesn’t mean that it doesn’t work.”

Her eyes narrow, “So then why has it taken him so long? Look at you, you’re a ten everyday. And he’s just dragging it out.” 

“Oh hush. I am six on a good day.” You roll your eyes. “He’s just.” Your cheeks flush, making Dahlia gag as she checks her hair in the mirror. “Different, doesn’t like to rush things. Beside, this, what, your eighth time going back to Chad? You can do better.” 

It was Dahlia’s turn to roll her eyes. “Unfortunately, guys from the forties don’t just appear at my work like they do yours. And the sex is good.”

You wrinkle your face, checking that you have all your stuff in your purse. Phone buzzing in your hand. 

Bucky <3 : Be there in five. Can’t wait to see you.

The flush that creeps up your neck is totally normal, you tell yourself.

“Alright, hot stuff, I am out of here.” Dahlia grins, twirling a piece of her hair with her fingers. “Going to want all the details about your old man.”

You groan and she winks before taking off into the night. Checking yourself for the tenth time, you wonder if you’re overdoing it. The dress is emerald green, sweetheart neckline, long flowing sleeves, and mid-thigh slit. You wore black heels that weren’t too high, and a clutch that matched it. Chewing on your lip, you almost decided to change into something different when a knock came at the door. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you decide it's now or never. Walking over to the door to open it. Bucky stands on the other side, wearing black on black, the top couple buttons on his dress shirt undone, hair ruffled back as he takes you in. 

“Wow,” He blinked, his tongue wetting his lips. “You look fantastic.”

You let out a small giggle, “Not so bad yourself, Sergeant Barnes.” 

He chuckles, holding his arm out for you to take. You close the door behind you, grabbing his arm to start the way to his car. 

“It isn’t too much is it?” You ask quietly, as he goes to open the door. 

His eyes crinkle as he looks at you over again, “Never is, when it’s you.”

You roll your eyes and pat his hand before getting into the car. 

Dinner was at a steakhouse downtown, it wasn’t where either of you normally went, but man was the food delicious. Bucky told stories of dealing with the press, you had no idea how he managed all of it, and learning how to be press ready. Something along the lines of saying worry four times in one interview, didn’t seem to work well for them. You told him about fighting for grants and funding. That, despite the endless amount of paperwork, you still had more to do.

He’d hold your hand with his gloved one, thumb running over the top of your knuckles. Watching you closely as you spoke of troubles and worries you had. Reaffirming that you would figure it out, and he’d do what he could help. It was easy, it always had been. The way he understood without being patronizing, supportive, and not overbearing. Like the whole world stopped when you spoke.

Meal finished you sat, finishing up your glass of wine and Bucky sipping on whiskey.

“I was thinking-”  “Would you-”

Both of you are stumbling over your words. 

You bite your lip before holding up a hand, “No, no, go first.” 

His cheeks stained pink, “Would you like to come to my place?” Swallowing, his eyes glancing down at were your hands are linked. “Umm, tonight.”

Grinning, you nod, “I would love that. Was going to invite you into mine.”

His eyebrows go up, “Really? Got tired of waiting?”

Your face flushes, “I’d wait for you.” You reach over and grab both his hands in yours across the table. “But I am certainly not going to say, no.”

The bill is paid for quickly, the air between you is now charged more than normal, his hands don’t stop touching you. He holds your hand at the table as the bill is paid, as you get up to leave, his hand slides gently onto the small of your back. In the car, his large palm slips gently past the fabric of your dress to rest warmly on your thigh. 

Your skin prickles with heat, goosebumps running up your neck, when he squeezes slightly. His eyes on the road, but they glance over at your more, that unspoken quietness that has you wanting to pull the car over. Low music playing in the background, but your mind is starting to melt. It was finally happening, and you were surprisingly more excited than anxious.

He pulls up in front of a small apartment complex, it’s in a quieter, older end of the city. It should surprise you, but it doesn't, it’s perfectly Bucky. Stepping out into the cool night air you look at the area. It’s older, less generatified than many, small stores underneath the apartments. An older lady walks by, with a small white fluffy dog, saying hello to Bucky. She gives you a smile and a wink, and of course he is known by everyone. 

Grabbing your hand, he leans down and gives you a quick kiss, before guiding you inside. You follow eagerly, face already flushed as you ascend the set of stairs. Cursing slightly at the fact that you decided to wear heels. 

“Hold on,” Bucky whispers at a landing, before he is picking you up, one arm under your legs, the other holding your back. You let out a squeak before wrapping  your arms around his neck.

“Got to warn a girl, Bucky,” You giggle, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“Can’t have you worn out before we get up there now.” Bucky replies, before easily carrying you up the next flight of stairs 

He unlocks the door with one hand and pushes it open. He flicks on a light to reveal his home. The lights are dim, older fixtures that he has clearly restored, bathing the place in a warm glow. The kitchen is tidy, a rack of dishes sits on the counter, and a coffee pot half filled. The living room has a worn sofa, with a wall of bookcases, full of worn books, and a small tv in the corner that definitely has dust on it. It’s cozy and comfortable, a space clearly cherished and lived in. 

He carefully lowers you to the ground, you lean up to kiss him again, your fingers running through the hair along the back of his neck. He kisses you back, hand coming up to cup your jaw. Thumb making lazy circles over your cheekbones. You nip at his lips, hearing him let out a small groan, his free hand sliding to your hip. 

Pulling back, he leans his forehead against yours, a small smile spreading over his face. “Let’s get these shoes off.”

You hum, watching him kneel down in front of you, heart stuttering in your chest when he looks up at you. Blue eyes framed by dark hair, a warm hand sliding down your calf, as a cool one slips down over your heel and pops it off. He moves over to the next one, cool hand sliding up along your leg, his eyes following it. The other heel hits the ground, the metal of his hand stays on your calf, moving up and pushing the slit of your dress open slightly. He leans forward and kisses the skin on the inside of your knee. 

A shiver runs down your spine as your foot hits the cool wood floor below your feet. You hold a hand out, that Bucky takes, standing up, he leans down to kiss you again. Pulling you tight against his chest, you hear your heart thumping in your ears as your hands reach up to cup his face. His hands move to your hips, fingers digging into the material as he opens his mouth to nip at your lips. A small groan escapes as your tongue pushes into his mouth. The taste of whisky and him making your toes curl.

“You taste so sweet,” He murmurs, slowly pushing you past the kitchen, towards a short hallway.

Your back hits the door, and both of you fumble for the handle. It opens, and you both topple forward. You are pretty sure the neighbors hear you nearly scream as you fall. Bucky catches you and rolls so that you land on top of him. A giggle erupts out of both of you as you lie there in a tangle of limbs.

“Not what I had planned,” Bucky murmurs, his cheeks gone pink. It only furthers your giggling fit, burying your head against his chest. 

“Guess you could say you swept me off my feet.” Your own face red from the ridiculous jokes.

Bucky groans, eyes rolling, “Been reduced to Dad jokes.”

You continue the gigglefest, as the two of you get up off the floor. It was hard not to feel a little silly around him, he had that effect. Walls sliding down easily, making you feel safe, like no one else could.

“Where were we?” You lean into him, one hand on his chest, the other coming up to cup his jaw. 

He leans against your palm, eyes closing, as he breathes you in. The stubble on his cheeks makes your fingers tingle, as you rub small circles into the skin. Fingers run from our hips up along your sides, a shiver running down your spine, making you squirm. Pulling you closer his hands move to your back find the zipper, he leans in close to your ear.

“Think you’re wearing too many clothes,” He whispers into your ear, his voice a deep growl that makes the hair on your arms stand up. “Turn around.”

A shudder comes out, you do what he asks and turn around. Warm fingers find the zipper and slowly pull it down, as the teeth click, a cool finger runs down the now bare skin. A gasp escapes from your lips, his hands moving from your back up to the sleeves of the dress, slowly pushing them down your arms. His lips find your skin, kissing along the top of your shoulder. You shrug the dress down one shoulder, his hand pushing the other down. The dress slides down to your hips, pooling fabric around your waist. Bucky’s lips don’t stop moving. He kisses slowly down your shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist. Clothed body pressing behind you, one hand moving to cup at your breast. 

“Bucky,” You whisper, your head tipping back against him. Groaning as his one hand moves down and pushes the rest of your dress down. 

“Turn around,” He hushes, kissing down along your neck. His teeth scraped against the skin, your mind turning to mush as you turn to face him. 

You stand there nearly bare, save for a matching set of black underwear and bra, watching him look you over. His cool eyes going down along your skin, eyes moving along you like he was trying to burn the memory of you into his mind, 

“You’re stunning,” He whispers, holding your gaze. “You tell me if it’s too much.”

You nod, it wasn't, it couldn’t be, not with him. Right there you’d do just about anything he would ask. “I will, but it’s not. It’s never too much.”

A small smirk crosses his face, his shoulders roll as he pushes his suit jacket off. Fingers moving up to do the buttons, you move forward wanting to help, but he holds up a hand, stopping you. Butterflies blossom in your stomach as you stand back. Watching as he undoes the buttons, fingers easily slipping them out of each slot. He pulls the shirt out from the waistband of his pants, pushing the material back off his chest. You swallow, watching the wide expanse of his chest appear, the way his movement flexes the muscles. Hands clenching against your bare thigh with the need to touch.

The shirt snags where his shoulder and arm meet on the left side, his face scrunching in frustration at the material. You don’t hesitate, moving forward, one hand rest on his pec and the other goes over to the caught fabric. Sliding a finger underneath, you carefully work the fabric out before pushing it down. His body stills, his eyes flicking down to you. You hold his gaze as the shirt drops down, finger moving along his skin. Feeling the different scars that dot his chest, you flick down to the large scar where the metal meets the skin. 

You don’t ask, instead leaning down to kiss at some of the smaller scars, watching his breath hitch as you move over. Keeping your eyes on his you kiss down the ragged edges of his scar, you can hear his heart start to pick up. You start at the top of his shoulder, going down along it, leaving your kiss light, soft, leaving room for him to tell you to stop. Moving your hands, you reach up to gently touch his face, leaning on your toes, you kiss him softly. 

“All the details, the stories,” You whisper quietly. “I want to know every one of them.” 

A shutter rattles his body, and his hands are on you. Finger digging into your hips, as his lips crash into yours, it is hungry and desperate. You kiss back against the onslaught, your hands weaving into his hair, pulling just enough to anchor you to him. He backs you up slowly, your legs hitting the edge of the bed. 

“Fuck, wanted to do this for so long,” Bucky groans, kissing down your neck, as you both fall back against the bed. 

Your hands move down to his belt, and he swats them away. You moan. “Buckyyy, please.”

“Not yet, sweetheart. Want to make it a night to remember.” He smirks, resting so that he is leaning over top of you.

“It already is,” You complain, hands running along his chest and down his arms, squeezing at them.

He leans forward, kissing down your neck, down along your shoulder, around your collarbones. Resting on his metal arm, he uses his free hand to reach behind you and unclip your bra. Arching your back, you help him free it before his mouth moves again. Hand kneading at your breast, making you hiss as he leans down to suck at one of your nipples. A whimper leaves your lips as he laps at it, teeth scraping at the sensitive bud. 

Whimpering your hands move to grab at his back. The metal hand moves quickly snatching both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. 

“You squirm so much,” He grins, holding you steady as you pout. Kissing your pout, he switches to the other nipple, making you squirm more, breathy pants coming as you feel heat pulse in your core. 

“Goddamn, you’re such a tease.” You huff, now trying to arch your hips up for some friction. 

Bucky grumbles, shifting so that his legs spread yours open, making it difficult for you to try and move up. The more you struggle, the more he grins, and he goes back to kissing down your body, stretching as far as he can reach with your hands pinned. 

“I am going to let go,” His eyes are dark with need, desire, swirling in the air. “If you move I stop.”

“Ahh, I should have known you were kinky.” You yip back, trying not to squirm. “It’s always the quiet ones-” Your breath is suddenly sucked out of your lungs, when he tongues just below your naval. 

His teeth nip harder here, making you shiver, he licks and sucks after each bite, leaving a squiggling line of bruises across your lower stomach. Going further down, his tongue moves down and licks along the edge of your panties. 

Your body clenches as you try not to squirm, fist balling up the soft bedding underneath. Nearly losing it when you look down to see him lying between your legs, hands holding onto your hips, as he grabs onto your panties with his teeth. Bucky looks up at your eyes, connecting with yours as he works them down. Moving them just enough that he can get where he wants to go. Eyes pinning you in place as he leans forward, thumbs pushing your fold open as his tongue flicks out and tastes you. 

A whimper leaves your mouth, as his eyes close, he pushes forward eagerly, tongue taking a deep sweep as he groans. The vibrations have your hands fisted in the sheets, mind melting into a puddle as he continues to lick into your core. 

“Please,” You whimper, legs shaking as his nose brushes against your clit. “Let me touch you.”

His head raises, lips and chin soaked in your slick, which just makes you want to reach for him more. Bucky shakes his head. Before doubling his efforts, he moves his left hand down, running the cool metal along where your thigh and core meet. Mouth moving up to nip at your folds, making you buck up, just as one of the cold metal fingers slips inside.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp, he stops moving for a second, eyes focused on your face as he starts to work one finger in and out. 

Keening, your hips move down against the friction, it's not enough. As if reading your mind, he slips another finger in. Scissoring them and opening you up, heat starting to grow in your stomach. A cry leaving as he latches onto your clit, sucking and humming, the slow pace picking up as his fingers move deeper. They curl up looking for the spongy spot, when he hits your eyes slam shut body pulsing as he keeps moving. Fingers moving up and pressing at it over and over, combined with him sucking and humming on your clit has you teetering on the edge. 

“I am-” Your breath stutters as he pops off your clit. “Don’t you dare stop.” 

Grinning he moves his tongue down to wear his fingers are, scissoring you open so he can stick his tongue deep inside. 

“Goddamnit, Bucky please. Please.” You’re begging, the edge of release is right there, just under his tongue. 

The bastard chuckles, leaning forward to blow on your clit, “So pretty when you beg.”

You don’t have time to curse him out, as he latches back onto your clit, tongue swirling around as his fingers push up and against the spot. Eyes opening wide, mouth agape in a slight scream as pleasure washes over you. He doesn’t stop moving and sucking against you. The feeling keeps building, the fire growing, tingling out through your lower abdomen. It’s not enough and too much at the same time. You couldn’t help but let your fingers finally card into his hair, they clenched in and out. 

Bucky finally eases up, your thighs shaking as you try to find words in the haze. He moves up fingers, carefully slipping out of you, and you let out a huff at losing the sensation. Hands coming to cup his face, you bring him closer and kiss him, tongue pushing in so that you can taste a mix of you both.

“You broke the rules,” He teases, kissing the tip of your nose. His body is not quite laying on top of yours. 

A small giggles leave your mouth, “Still can’t think straight.” Your hands move down along his broad back, “Next time you’re just going to have to tie me up.”

Bucky grins, eyes crinkling as he kisses along your jaw. “Next time huh?”

Your hands roam down over his still cloth covered lower half, you squeeze his ass with one hand, the other moving to his front to work his belt open. 

“Many more times,” You grin, kissing his forehead as you slide the belt out. 

He sits back up, standing, and slides his pants and underwear down in one motion. Revealing his straining cock, it bumps against his lower abdomen, leaking enough to leave a mark there. You stare a little longer than you mean to, before your eyes flick back up to his. He smirks and crawls back onto the bed, his arms encasing you as he peers down at you. 

“So many promises,” He whispers, his metal arm hikes up one of your thighs as his mouth finds yours. 

Gasp escapes your lips as the thick tip of cock rubs against your folds, you are going to feel this, every bit of it. His hand drags you closer, letting you start to sink into it, and the feel of him starts to stretch you. Your hands digging into the flesh of his back. Moving your hips, you finally get him to sink deeper.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He hushes, kissing down along your jaw, tongue running from below your ear and down your neck. He found the spot where your shoulder met your neck and latched onto it.

He sinks all the way in, your mouth opens, gasping his name, throwing your other leg over top of his hips. Rocking up to meet his hips, your bodies flush where you join. He waits a moment, and you want to scream for him to move, to do something. So full, body aching and fluttering around him, still sensitive from your release earlier. 

Finally, he moves, slowly pulling out, then sliding back in, he moans into your ear. Saying your name softly as he continues to move, at a steady, unrelenting pace. One of your hands grips his hip, the other running into his hair, pulling him into a devastating kiss. You pull back, resting your forehead against his, his face slack with pleasure, yet lined as he holds back. 

“Don’t hold back,” You whisper quietly, leaning in to bite at his lip.

Something snaps in the air, his hips still for a moment, then his hands are gripping your hips, dragging you up onto his lap. His hips snap up making you gasp, strong arms wrapping around you as he starts to fuck in earnst. You can feel how deep he sits inside you, the way your stretched out, mind going fuzzy with the sound of your bodies filling the air. Nothing holds him back, you just cling onto him, mind goes blank. Your hand moves between you, rubbing at your clit. Making your insides spasm around him. 

“I am so close,” He whispers, grunting with the effort, muscle straining as he pumps into you. “Where?”

You kean, feeling your own pleasure renewing and blooming out. “Inisde, fuck please, inside me.” 

His mouth latches onto the top of your shoulder, biting hard, and a shout rips out of you as you come. Your eyes rolling back in the fog of pleasure and pain, making your whole body clench around him. His body spasms as he holds you close. His own body tensing, breath in short pants, heart hammering as he keeps pumping into you over and over. Metal hand placed on your lower back, as his rhythm falters, you feel him slam in cock twitching as he spills inside you. 

Breath still in short pants, you both collapse onto the bed, Bucky still holding you tight against his warm body. His heart just under your ear, body aching in the best way possible. Sweat and hair mingled together as you lay there happily. 

“You okay?” He whisper hands rubbing gently up and down your ribs, you could still feel him inside you.

“Mmhmm,” You mumble, trying to find words that seem to have left your brain. “Think you broke me.”

You felt him tense up at the words, you smack at his arm. “Not like that.” You giggle leaving light kisses across his hot skin. “Just a little foggy.”

He relaxes, moving so he can look at you, “That good or bad?”

You lean back grabbing a pillow to shove under both of your heads. “So, so good.”

He kisses you quietly, carefully unwrapping your legs from his before pulling out. You grumble at losing the feeling , but don’t hesitate to smack his butt as he goes to leave. 

“Behave,” He says with a grin. “Be right back.”

You groan, shifting a little, kicking and moving the blankets so that you can crawl underneath. The sheets were soft and comfortable, your head still riding the high of the orgasm. You could get used to this, a small smile crosses your face. 

Bucky slips in, two glasses of water in one large hand, another holds a washcloth. He puts the drink down, flipping the covers up, he grabs your ankles and drags you closer to him.

“You love to manhandle me,” You giggles, letting him carefully clean up the mess between your legs. 

“Think you like it as much as I do,” He grins, before tossing the towel into a basket near the closet.

You nod your head as you take the water glass, taking a few stips, “Not used to being thrown around, can’t say I mind.”

He drinks his own water, before crawling into bed beside you. “Good, cause you still owe me for breaking the rules.” 

~*~*~*~*~*

Let me know if you enjoyed it <3 Reblog, comment, like, more to cum *cough*

[ageingfangirl2]

Imagine Being Bonten's Receptionist (Bonten x F Reader) - Tokyo Revengers

PART 6: WHAT'S IN THE BOX? (CONT'D)

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN

That afternoon in the office is quiet. Too quiet. You returned from that conference room with Kakucho like nothing happened.

Back at your desk, you answered calls. Sorted documents. Typed reports. Smiled at Ran when he passed you some coffee. Thanked Rindou for holding the elevator. Even made a light joke to Takeomi about updating the office playlist before you go feral with their unique taste in music.

But there’s something… off about you. Your posture’s too perfect. Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. And when someone knocks loudly on a door down the hall, you don’t flinch — you just freeze, then go back to typing like nothing happened.

The others watch her.

Sanzu, unnervingly quiet for once, mutters, ‘She’s not okay.’

Mochi doesn’t leave the floor for more than five minutes at a time — hovering, pacing, watching the elevators.

Kakucho keeps checking in without being obvious, but every time he tries to ask if you need anything, you say, ‘I’m fine,’ with that too-calm tone.

Mikey sits silently in a chair across the room, legs crossed, eyes on you the entire time like a guard dog no one asked for.

You even joke at one point — when Koko mentions updating your apartment security — ‘Maybe I should just stop locking the door. If he gets in again, at least I won't have to track him down. Saves me the trip, right?’

She laughs. Nobody else does.

By the time the day is winding down, the air in the office feels wrong. The members of Bonten have faced gang wars, bloodbaths, and betrayal — but somehow, watching you act like nothing happened while your cat was mailed to you in a box has every one of them unsettled.

You pack up your things slowly, humming under your breath. Smooth your skirt and tuck a pen behind your ear, ready to leave for the day. And Koko, who’s been watching you from across the room with that tight look in his eyes, finally gets up and walks over.

‘Hey,’ he says gently.

You turn, blinking at him. That same bright-but-not smile, ‘Yeah?’

He pauses. Then says softly, ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

Your smile twitches just a little wider. Not warm — just sharp. And you tilt your head slightly, ‘Oh, I won’t.’

Your voice is still light. Still calm, ‘I’ll wait until I see him. Then I’ll carve out his tongue with a nail file. Start there. Slow. Keep him conscious for the rest.’

You shrug casually, like you’re talking about meal prep, ‘If I do it right, I’ll have enough time to take a few fingers before I get bored.’

You sling your bag over your shoulder, turn back to Koko with a sweet smile, ‘But thank you for worrying.’

Then you walk out — heels clicking softly, hair swaying, like the most normal girl in the world. And the whole office just… stares after you.

Sanzu is the first to speak, ‘I think I’m in love.’

Ran, ‘Shut up, Sanzu.’

Koko just exhales and rubs a hand over his face. Mikey? Still watching the door. Still silent. Still thinking: If she finds him first, there might not even be a body left for us to deal with.

The second you’re out of the Bonten building — away from the eyes that make you keep the mask on — it all crashes down. You’re not composed anymore. You’re devastated. And the worst part? You still don’t believe anyone will help you.

You don’t go home that night. You can’t. Not with the silence. Not with the empty space where your cat should be. Not with the thought that maybe he’s still out there — watching. Waiting. So you call an old friend. Someone outside the chaos. Someone normal.

They order food, light a candle, and try to make the place feel safe. But by the time you’re curled up on the couch, hair messy and eyes glassy, you’re unraveling fast.

‘He killed him,’ you whisper, voice cracking.

Your friend sits beside you, arm gently around your shoulder.

‘I loved that stupid cat more than I loved him, and maybe that’s why he did it, ‘you wipe your nose on your sleeve. ‘I chose a pet over him, and now he’s dead. That’s not normal, right? That’s not… normal.’

‘No,’ your friend says firmly, ‘It’s not. It’s sick. And it’s criminal.’

There’s a beat of silence. Then the friend adds, cautiously, ‘If you’re ready… I know someone. A detective. I can put you in touch with.’

You laugh — a bitter, broken sound that’s nothing like how she sounded earlier in the day. ‘A cop?’ you scoff. ‘He’s a lawyer. Charming, successful, and manipulative as hell. If I go in there crying about my dead cat, they’ll hand me a pamphlet and tell him sorry for the inconvenience.’

You stare down at your hands, voice low, ‘No one’s going to believe me. Not unless he does something worse. And by then, it’ll be too late.’

Your friend’s eyes go soft with concern. ‘You don’t have to face him alone.’

Another silence. You lean your head against the back of the couch and whisper, ‘I don’t think I have to.’

And somewhere across the city, Bonten is already moving.

THE NEXT DAY

The morning starts quietly. The reception desk sits empty. Your mug is still there. The air smells like your usual perfume — soft, floral, just a ghost of your presence.

Then Koko steps in, phone in hand, coat half-off, and says to the room, ‘She’s taking a few days off. Crashed with a friend. Said she’s safe,’ he pauses. Glances up, ‘Now’s the time.’

The room stills.

Mikey, sitting on the couch, doesn’t even look up. He just speaks, ‘Who’s first?’

Sanzu, already grinning, drags his chair closer to the round table. ‘Depends. You want clean or messy?’

Ran tosses a file onto the table — photos, timestamps, the ex’s schedule, ‘Koko’s been digging. The guy’s tight. Looks clean on paper.’

Koko clicks his tongue, ‘Too clean. The slippery little bastard's got friends in high places. So we make sure he doesn’t have anywhere to run.’

Takeomi sighed, rolling up his sleeves. ‘Lawyers always think they’re untouchable. Until they’re not.’

The plan starts forming right there in the office.

Documents are pulled. Surveillance footage is laid out. Calls are made. Sanzu’s phone is already buzzing with contacts from his dirtier days. Rindou’s tracing connections — who the ex has on speed dial.

Kakucho doesn’t say much — just stands by the window, watching the city. Thinking about you. That flat little ‘oh’ in the conference room still echoes in his head.

When he finally speaks, it’s quiet, dangerous, ‘No body. No crime.’

Mikey nods. Doesn’t even blink, ‘Make it look like karma.’

By noon, Bonten isn’t just planning revenge. They’re orchestrating a lesson. A very public, very humiliating dismantling of this man’s life. His firm? A scandal hits the papers. Photos. Testimonies. A sudden missing client fund. His home? Burgled, expensive things smashed. His dog groomer suddenly refuses him service. His reputation? Gone. Video clips surface. Past girlfriends are contacted. Whispers of abuse and manipulation rise to the surface.

And the cat? That’s left off the public radar — but Bonten keeps that rage for themselves.

Sanzu’s got something special planned. Ran and Rindou are prepping the social fallout. Mochi’s arranging the hands-on visit. Takeomi’s writing the story the media will believe. Koko? He's already moved your name off any traceable employee record — making it so if the ex looks for you, all he’ll find is nothing. Kakucho? He's just waiting for the right time to knock on your door and tell you it’s over. Mikey? He’s watching it all happen like it’s already done.

By the end of the day, their office looks like a war room. Your desk is still untouched. Your mug is still there. And they don’t touch it. Because all of this? This is for you.

[plaidcowboymoved]

kansas anymore ( the longest goodbye ) — role model

( notes ) eeee omg i’ve been wanting to do album themed bot release for so long! this is literally my favorite album these past months, i love tucker down. i did a lot of characters that ive never done before trying to spice things up. i’d love to have feedback on this. thank u all sm for the support. i love u!

track one — ( writings on the wall )

୨🌪️៹ donnie darko — ‘dads on the phone and he’s lecturing me, ‘bout a girl that he met back when he was nineteen.’ donnie, his father and his bestfriend all having a realistic conversation about his toxic girlfriend.

track two — ( look at that woman )

୨🌪️៹ patrick bateman — ‘damn honey, look at you go. look at that woman, breaking my heart.’ watching his ex from a distance at a business party, still so deeply in love with her.

track three — ( scum bag )

୨🌪️៹ jonathan byers — ‘i’m a scumbag, i’m a setback, im a stain on the kitchen floor. but you stand by me.’ getting high sometimes means all your thoughts coming to light, especially jonathans thoughts of insecurity.

track four — ( oh, gemini )

୨🌪️៹ spencer reid — ‘i’ll remember your face from time to time, i’ll remember that taste of cheap red wine, i’ll remember those days i called you mine.’ visiting the bar where you had your first date, spencer runs into his ex, both of you here for the same reason.

track five — ( frances )

୨🌪️៹ benedict bridgerton — ‘at the end of the day, i’m just happy i could say she was mine.’ after your parting due to status issues, benedict releases a poem book, every word being publicly read all about you.

track six — ( superglue )

୨🌪️៹ rafe cameron — ‘we’re gonna make it through. a little bit of superglue, stick by my side.’ gentle apologies and reassurance as rafe finally notices the crumbling of your relationship, wanting to make things right.

track seven — ( the dinner )

୨🌪️៹ felix catton — ‘swear they wouldn’t even notice if i never even showed, take me home.’ going to your boyfriends house for dinner to meet his parents for the first time reveals the difference in your status, felix in a cold rich family and you in the exact opposite.

track eight — ( deeply still in love )

୨🌪️៹ patrick zweig — ‘i’m sorry but i’m deeply still in love, in love with you now. yes ma’am.’ pathetic man crashing your wedding, getting down on his hands and knees to beg for your love back!

track nine — ( slut era interlude )

୨🌪️៹ bruce wayne — ‘i don’t like you, but i’d like you to spend the night. i’m going through it girl, could you do it girl?’ pulling himself out of bed to go to the club, trying to recover from his heartbreak as he brings home a random hookup.

track ten — ( so far gone )

୨🌪️៹ michael berzatto — ‘if you wanted me to go, you should have told me. so far gone, so lonely.’ mikey picking you up shitfaced drunk from a club, beer being your self remedy to a heartbreak. crying in mikey’s car.

track eleven — ( slipfast )

୨🌪️៹ jj maybank — ‘oh my god what i’d pay to just, run away from this. let me pay for it later.’ leaving behind your responsibilities and honestly bad-for-you boyfriend to spend the day with your bestfriend. slipping away from your duties to live in the moment.

track twelve — ( compromise )

୨🌪️៹ hughie campbell — ‘you deserve a happy ever after don’t you? after all the tears you’ve cried, don’t you compromise.’ not wanting you to settle for anything less than what you deserve, hughie changes himself for you.

track thirteen — ( something, somehow, someday )

୨🌪️៹ will graham — ‘he’s a loose cannon, foolish man who needs some medication. she’s a shoe-tied, bluesky honeymoon vacation. but i believe they’re meant to be.’ crying in your lap about what he feared the most being brought to life, not being good enough for you.

track fourteen — ( old recliners )

୨🌪️៹ natalie scatorccio — ‘i remember when the days were long, old recliners in the yard. kicking heels up to her favorite song, all the boys were playing cards.’ living with your ex after her return from the wilderness, battling with your own romantic emotions.

track fifteen — ( sally, when the wine runs out )

୨🌪️៹ anakin skywalker — ‘i’ll buy a couple of rounds. don’t let me think i’m enough, then disappear when the wine runs out.’ taking a break from the brutal jedi training to have a drink. spotting a cute, possible hookup.

track sixteen — ( some protector )

୨🌪️៹ sam winchester — ‘am i still worried about you? why, yes i am and i always will be some protector.’ sam watching you from a distance, the alcohol bringing him straight to your house in the late hours of the night.

[saphronethaleph]

Life Support Issues

“All right, so… where do you have the plans?” the Rebel technician asked. “An R2 unit like this could have a hundred hiding places.”

R2 beeped and whistled.

“Ah, I see,” Threepio said. “Yes, Artoo has reminded me that in fact the plans are not only in a data card, but also redundantly stored inside his own system – that’s how he was able to access the systems so readily. He will be able to transfer them quite readily through a standard data access port.”

“We can get that set up, sure,” the tech agreed, gesturing, and his assistant brought over a cable.

As he did, though, Threepio looked with interest at his old friend and counterpart.

“Were you supposed to do that?” he asked.

R2 beeped again.

“Yes, I suppose it is a good thing that you did, but I’m asking if you were supposed to,” Threepio replied. “Don’t try and play semantics with me, Artoo.”

R2 provided a long string of bleeps and whistles, and C-3PO stepped back.

“You did?” he asked. “Oh my… well, I suppose I did ask you to do that first one.”

“Do what?” the tech asked, halfway through plugging in the cable.

“Well, we were on the Death Star,” C-3PO replied. “And while rescuing Princess Leia, Master Luke and their friends, I had Artoo shut down all the garbage compactors on the Death Star, and then open the door to the one that they were in. Artoo has informed he that, in fact, he opened all the entrances shortly before we left.”

He made a displeased noise. “In addition, he flushed all the drinkable water into the black water systems, raised the temperature in the food storage areas to two hundred and fourteen degrees centigrade, and sealed the doors to every lavatory on the ship. I am also reliably informed that the artificial gravity generators have been independently set to what he calls ‘shuffle’ and that the plumbing system on the Death Star is comprehensive enough to permit him to transport fluids randomly around the entire plumbing system through a series of several thousand distributed commands which trigger on and off at random, at times ranging from five minutes to three days.”

A pause.

“Also, that reversing the gravity in the shuttle and vehicle maintenance bays produced a quite satisfying crunching sound of valuable equipment breaking. Artoo, did you really have to do all of that?”

R2 whistled, helpfully.

“Yes, I suppose they did blow up Alderaan,” Threepio admitted. “I’m just worried that at this point we might be committing war crimes ourselves.”

“This is becoming ridiculous,” Tarkin said, as blaster fire crackled up and down the corridor. “Half the ship is fighting itself and the other half is trying desperately to find a fresher.”

The firing intensified outside, then Darth Vader loomed imperiously out of the door and the various factions went from exchanging fire to fleeing.

“Have you found anything about what happened?” the Sith Lord asked, returning his attention to Tarkin. “I could believe one of these failures was accidental, but this is clearly deliberate.”

“It has been a little hard to gather information,” the Grand Moff replied, testily. “Since my analyst team is having to defend their access to a shuttle bay which might have an intact shuttle and the last Star Destroyer to try and render assistance was destroyed by two thousand turbolaser batteries all firing on it at once on automatic. But clearly there has been some sort of unauthorized access.”

“The plans,” Darth Vader said, firmly. “The Princess clearly passed them off to someone. The same group as her rescuers… Kenobi’s team. Kenobi is dead, but the smuggler ship must have had a strike team…”

He trailed off.

“But this is the work of an expert slicer,” he resumed. “A normal commando team couldn’t have done this much damage this quickly.”

“There is a report that one of my analysts found,” Tarkin said. “That a golden protocol droid and a blue-white astromech droid were acting suspiciously near Docking Bay 327.”

“Ah,” Darth Vader said, his tone somewhat different. “That explains everything. In fact, I am suspicious that there must be something we have missed.”

“Vader?” Tarkin asked.

“R2 has left us something else,” Vader answered. “I can feel it.”

Tarkin started giggling.

“...ah,” Vader declared. “There it is.”

“Nitrous oxide?” C-3PO asked. “Really?”

R2 whistled.

“I don’t care if you had to improvise and that it’s easily produced from available life support gases,” C-3PO replied, shaking his head. “Really, R2.”

[carolmunson]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[reallyromealone]

Title: fae love

Fandom: none

Characters: original character (orc), reader

Fic type: nsfw, story

Pairings: orc x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, nsfw, smut, reader has some description, boy pussy term used, reader is a fae, chaotic reader

Notes: I thought I posted this but I didn't, this is super indulgent, and yeah. Normally this would go through Patreon first but I'm feeling kind

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

(name) smiled as he was carried by the giant orc that was his mate, a towering ten feet tall to (name) 's five feet four inches, the pretty fae kissing the orc's olive cheek sweetly as they went back to their farm, a sweet little farm in the woods outside of town "I told you no more fires in non agreed fireplaces" he said gruffly to (name) who just smiled "you're the one who chose to become fated mates with me~"

The Orc sighed, looking at the gold ring on (name) 's finger and the wedding necklace, indeed he chose (name) for marriage, he did love his chaotic husband.

(Name) often treated his husband like a jungle gym, the tiny fae usually resting on his shoulder as he went about things and used his magic for various tasks "My love, please... You're awful at cooking" he swatted (name)s hand away when (name) tried to help by adding flower petals to the stew "but they make the stew look magical ~!" Was (name) 's reasoning as he watched the other stir the rabbit and vegetable soup "I added extra (vegetable), magical enough?" The orc gently kissed the other calf, tusks grazing (name) 's flesh, and (name) giggled "You romantic~"

(Name) always sat in his husband's lap when they ate and spoke about their days, (name) in the woods building little homes for the mouse village as they wanted to expand--- thankfully their building supplies were primarily popsicle sticks, the Orc gladly letting his love do that, especially since the mouse folk traded for mushrooms and herbs they find, it also kept (name) from causing mischief amongst the fae wilds, the two living outside the fae wild portal ring and often seeing passerbys that (name) would prank (read: setting their shoes on fire).

It was always a serene affair.

Well for (name).

When bedtime came, (name) carefully took off his jewelry as did his husband, removing any makeup for the night against the candlelight "Oh..." (Name) whispered as he felt his love's large hards easily spread his legs, rubbing the inside of his thighs "been energetic these days, causing problems..." The orc said as (name) leaned into his broad chest and felt the other large cock against his ass "Have no output for this energy..." (Name) said back breathlessly as he already imagined the sweet stretch of the other cock "need something... Big to help me relax" he cooed and grinned impishly when his large husband tossed him on the giant bed, something they invested in long ago.

The orc pulled down his pants, large girthy cock erect and heavy, a deep red tip that slowly turned green "pretty.." fourteen inches that (name) couldn't help but feel giddy as he crawled to the other and gently took the others cock in his hands, kissing the tip sweetly as he stroked the shaft with both hands, taking the tip into his mouth as he gently placed his hands on his abdomen and a womb tattoo appeared, already using magic to keep his body intact so the other could fill him fully, essentially an infinity spell to not kill him.

The taste of pre-cum made (name) hazy, fae pre-cum and the likes were aphrodisiacs, (name) 's eyes heavy as the effects of the tattoo began "Gonna take me well... Always do" the orc grumbled as he watched (name) stroke him off and trying to take him but sadly he just couldn't fit him in, not without using magic to warp his body.

And last time that happened it was horrific when he let (name) do the magic using.

Jaw unhinging and face distorting...the poor orc couldn't look at his husband the same for a week.

"Lemme see that ass" (name) let himself be manhandled into his husband's hold, upside down as he held onto the other cock while being held in the air, letting out a shaky breath when he felt his loves tongue lick from his balls to his ass and circling his hot tongue around the rim as (name) shakily stroked the orcs cock as his husband's long tongue went down to curl around (name)s cock, average in size but tiny to the massive orc who felt the aphrodisiac affects himself as his large fingers pushed into (name)s ass.

(Name) Whined and moaned as he felt himself fall apart, clinging onto the other's cock like a lifeline as his ass was finger fucked and his cock licked methodically "Please... Need it..." He needed that itch scratched, yelping when his husband smacked his ass "Behave" the other grunted as his tusks scraped (name)s lower ass cheeks.

(Name) Was manhandled onto his back, for a moment he felt giddy thinking he was getting the other big cock but let out a loud cry as his husband's index middle and ring finger fucked his ass aggressively, veins showing up on the orc's arms as he fucked as hard as he could against (name)s prostate as (name) climaxed hard but the other continued fucking through his climax, watching intensely.

He could barely muster words, the two having a safe word as their sessions got... Intense so the mewls of "stop" and "I can't!" Fell on deaf ears as the orc grinned at his lover's fucked out expression as he slowly pulled his wet fingers out "Your little ass-pussy is ready... You good there baby boy?" He asked as (name) whined "please..." (Name) Begged as he let his husband kiss him slowly, lining his giant cock to (name)s poor entrance and pushing in, shushing his whined at the sensation. no matter how many times they did it, it still stung as the orc slowly bottomed out.

"You did so good, my love" the orc soothed him as he let (name) adjust, no matter how much prep the sweet face needed to adjust for a few minutes as his body twitched helplessly "Big..." (Name) Whined as he felt his husband kiss stray tears.

The two stayed like this for a few moments before (name) gave the ok and the other slowly began thrusting, pushing out to the tip and pushing in, with each thrust he slowly picked up speed. "Oh! Fuck!" (Name) Gasped as he felt the other's balls slap against his ass, hips bruising as he was fucked like a doll.

"More!"

"Yes!"

"O-oh!"

Climaxes and moans, scratches and bites were all the things that (name) got and gave as his legs stretched with a slight burn, riding his beloved as his wings stretched out, previously hidden with magic as a harsh climax rolled through and the dust from his wings lifting them slightly "yes! Fuck me with that cock!" (Name) Scratched down the other's chest as he developed more fae features, unable to keep his magic back.

"Gonna cum in that pretty hole, take it all!" (Name) Collapsed as he was stuffed, stomach bulging as his husband filled his belly with cum.

"There... Keep you from setting trees on fire for a few days..."

[rafes-juno]

My Brother's Best Friends; Slim Pickins

Pairing: Brother's Best Friend! Rafe x Brat! Female Oc

Summary: What happens when Rafe returns from college and turns Isla's life upside down? Will Isla be able to handle her brother's best friends? Are Rafe and Isla overcoming their rivalry this summer, or are their feelings brewing ready to explode? Secrets will come out testing Isla and her brother's relationship.

Contains: Enemies to Lovers, Brother's Best Friend, Harsh Language, Sexual Content, Drinking, Harassment, Mentions Of Blood. (18+ ,minors do not interact!)

WC: 3.905

Previous Chapter: 1

“So… you never kissed?” Rosie asks as she sips her drink, her eyes drifting between me and our best friend, Sunny.

I shake my head, just as disappointed as them. “No. Rafe came in and ruined it all, too. He talked about how I needed to stay away from Alex and said he was just looking out for me. " My eyes roll as I sip on my straw, watching the girls share a knowing glance.

Rosie and Sunny have been my best friends since elementary school. I don’t think there’s been a full day in my life where I haven’t seen at least one of them. We’re inseparable.

“Maybe we need to ask the cards?” Rosie suggests as Sunny digs through her bag to find her tarot deck.

When she drops the deck onto the table, I slump back. “Guys, I don’t want to do it if the cards are going to tell me something I don’t want to know.”

Truthfully, I think I’ve started to develop a crush on Alex. He’s been here a day, and I already can’t stop thinking about him like I’m a teenager again. Rafe’s words keep swirling around in my head, though. I don’t want to step on anybody’s toes and ruin any friendships– but at the same time, Theo and Alex don’t seem that close.

“Maybe they’ll confirm that he wants you–”

I laugh, reaching for my drink. “I don’t need the cards to confirm that.”

Sunny starts to shuffle the deck, and I sit up straight, watching how quickly her hands move. Cards fly out of the deck and land on the table; some even land on the ground, but Rosie quickly picks them up and hands them back to the witch. Sunny hums and turns over the cards, her eyes full of mischief.

I notice the time on my phone and sigh, “I only have five minutes before Rafe is coming to pick me up–”

“Oh, Rafe, again?” Rosie teases, her eyebrows raised.

“Yes, Rafe again,” I mumble. “We’re shopping to pick up some stuff for Theo’s birthday party tonight. Only me and him seem to give a shit. I don’t see you two offering–”

Sunny cuts me off, “Okay, so you have the fool card first. New beginnings– a new chapter in your life.”

I smirk, “Does the new chapter begin with an ‘A’ and end in ‘lex’?”

Sunny ignores my words and stares back down at the cards. “Death card. Is Alex a Scorpio?”

I shrug, “No. I don’t think so. I don’t know. I don’t think I know any Scorpio’s either.”

Sunny hums as she taps her long nails against the card. “Okay, so, a transformation of some kind. It could be during Scorpio season… or maybe he is a Scorpio.”

I open my mouth to reply, but she cuts me off and moves on to the next card. “The lovers. Self-explanatory.”

When we were fourteen, we entered a new store on the island. They sold all kinds of things, one of them being tarot cards. Sunny bought them and taught herself how to read them. Ever since we’ve relied on the cards for advice and guidance. Only recently has she started reading astrology, too. I rely on her to tell me when to invest in something new is a bad time. I swear, it feels like there's always something in retrograde or whatever.

“These are good cards,” Rosie comments. “Sounds like things could happen between you and Alex.”

Sunny pulls back her bottom lip, her head tilted. “Well– yeah. Maybe. I have a feeling it isn’t Alex, though.”

I laugh, lifting my drink to my mouth. “Well, who else could it be?”

Sunny shrugs. “I don’t know. We’ll see, I guess.”

She taps her finger against the next card. “Two of cups. Partnerships, relationships. Someone is coming in. I don’t know who, though. We need to find out Alex’s star sign.”

“I’ll ask at the party,” I say, sliding my chair out from the table and grabbing my phone. My screen lights up, and I see Rafe's missed texts telling me to hurry up and that I’m late. When I glance over my shoulder, I can see his car in the parking lot and his pissed-off face glaring through the open window.

We all watch as he opens his car door and climbs out. He rounds the car and crosses his arms, his eyes never leaving mine.

“Wow, has he been working out?” Rosie asks, her straw hanging loose in her mouth as she leans back in her seat.

I shrug, taking my time to grab all of my stuff as I keep my eyes on his. “I think so.”

It’s evident that he has been because of his black shirt. The material is clinging to his arms, chest, and toned stomach, and with the sweat dotted across his forehead, it looks as though he’s just got back from the gym.

“Hurry up, Isla! I don’t have all fucking day!” he yells over at me as I sling my bag over my shoulder.

“Calm down, Rafe. It’s not that serious.” I roll my eyes and turn to the girls, “I’ve never seen someone so eager to pick up a birthday cake.”

“I can hear you,” he says, opening the passenger side door as I wave goodbye to the girls and hop down the steps to the parking lot. I walk over to him with a cheesy grin.

I climb into his car, watching him slam my door shut with a low grunt. He walks around to the driver's side and clambers in, slamming his door as loud as he did mine. He merely glances in my direction as I pull the seatbelt over my body and click it into place.

He pulls out of the parking lot quickly, making me fall forward before falling back into my seat harshly. “Shit, Rafe. What’s the rush?”

“I have shit to do. Not that you’d give a fuck anyway, you don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

I scoff, my eyes widening as I stare over at him. “What’s your problem?”

“It’s too hot, and I don’t want to go to the store and–”

“Maybe you wouldn’t feel so hot if you weren’t wearing all black. It’s like a million degrees outside.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Isla.”

“Don’t be a dick, Rafe,” I bite back with a smile on my lips. “Let’s just go to the store, and then you can drop me off at home.”

“Home?” he asks. “I thought you were helping me put up all the party stuff on the druthers?”

I sigh, throwing my arms down to my sides in defeat. “Fine! If you want to hang out with me that bad, all you have to do is ask, Rafe.”

He doesn’t say a word; he keeps his eyes on the road, and his jaw clenches. I settle into my seat with a satisfied smile, knowing I won this time.

He never used to be so mean and hostile toward me. I’ll never understand what changed.

He used to be kind. He would talk to me with respect.

I don’t think he’ll ever tell me what changed. I don’t think I want to know, either. If he hates me, then so be it. I’m not here to have a friendship with him, and I certainly don’t want any validation from him.

If he’s happy for us to act like this, fine.

I couldn't care less.

“Oh my god, Rafe! Look!” I exclaimed, pulling a string of fairy lights with plastic strawberries from the self. “Strawberry lights!”

He snatches the box from me and stares at the picture on the front. “I don’t get it.”

I snatch them back and throw them into the shopping cart, “They’re just cute.”

“They’re a waste of money. That’s what they are.”

I grab another three and throw them into the cart with a thud. “Fine, I’ll buy them with my money.”

He pushes the cart slowly up the aisle with his veiny forearms resting on the handlebars. His shoulders are slumped, and I can tell he’s bored out of his mind, so I plan to spend as much time here as possible.

“Do you think we need party hats?” I ask, picking up a plastic box full of them. “I think we do.” he looks at me from the side, his eyes rolling.

“No, we don’t. There are just a couple of us on the boat. All we need is cake, balloons, and two banners,” he says, taking the box from my hands and throwing it back onto the shelf.

I cross my arms in defiance before reaching for the same box and throwing it into the cart. “You aren’t the only one using your daddy’s money today, Rafe. He paid me a hundred dollars just for tutoring your sister for an hour yesterday. We’re getting the hats.”

I spot a pack of party whistles and pick them up with a grin, “Oh, and these. We definitely need these.”

He sighs, standing up straight as he rolls his broad shoulders back. “Whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

I throw the whistles in and eye the fully stocked shelves for something that would really piss him off. I thought the whistles would send him over the edge, but apparently not. Although, I can’t imagine him using the whistle at the party.

His attitude is starting to piss me off. I understand he doesn’t want to be here; he only told me that four times on the way here. I knew I should’ve asked Alex to tag along. At least then, I’d have someone fun to talk to.

I watch him pull his phone out from his black shorts, and his fingers scroll on the screen for a few seconds before he clears his throat. “Okay, so we need–”

“Can we get these feather boas?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on, Rafe!” I sing, pulling the hot pink boa from the rack. “It’s fluffy.” I step toward him and drape it around his neck.

He tries to pull it off, but I hold my hand, keeping the material in place. “Wow, pink is your color. It brings out your eyes.”

“Oh, yeah?” he steps closer to me, pulling a yellow-colored boa from the rack. He drapes it around my neck and flicks up the side so it’s danging over my eyes, obscuring my vision. “This compliments your outfit.” For the first time today, there’s a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he reaches onto the shelf and hands me a pair of oversized sunflower glasses. “These will complete the ensemble.”

I hum, pushing the glasses onto my face. “Wow, is that a smile I can see, Rafe? Are you finally having fun?”

He scoffs, throwing his feather boa into the cart as his faint smile fades. “No.”

“Liar,” I sing, using the end of my feather boa to tickle his sun-kissed face. “You’re having so much fun with me.” He swats my hand and the feather away with a low growl.

I notice the pink pinata on the top shelf, shaped like a unicorn, and my eyes light up like a kid at a candy store. “Okay, we have to get that.” I tap Rafe’s shoulder and motion to the thing I need most. “Pick me up, I wanna grab it,”

“Pick you up?” his eyebrows are furrowed, and his forehead creased.

I nod, “You won’t be able to reach the one at the very back that’s probably in the best condition. Pick me up so I can grab it.”

He sighs, moving the cart out of the way as I stand before him. He hesitates briefly before grasping the curve of my waist with his big hands, causing my already-cropped t-shirt to rise. I feel the warmth of his touch bleed through my skin as he lifts me effortlessly.

He really has been working out.

“I can’t see,” I complain. “I need to get up higher!”

He groans in annoyance and hoists me onto his broad shoulder, holding me up there as I peer over the shelf to the pinata at the back, the most perfect unicorn calling my name. I feel one of his hands settle onto my thigh while the other grips my waist tighter, being sure I don’t fall as I reach across to grab my newest prized possession– which will be smashed to pieces by the end of the night.

“Got it,” I tell him as he pulls me back. I look at him with a smile as he carefully lowers me back to the ground, his hands still on my waist. “You're so helpful,” I coo, reaching up to place a kiss on his cheek.

Just as I pull my lips back with a smile plastered on my face, an elderly lady passes by us, her head tilted as she smiles at us. “Oh, aren’t you two just so sweet.”

The look on Rafe’s face says it all as he steps away from me, his head shaking. Before he can say anything, I slip my arm through his and smile at the lady. “Oh, thank you so much,” I look up at Rafe and drape the end of my feathered boa around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

“We’re just buying party supplies for our… son.”

The lady’s eyes widen, “Son? You two look awfully young–”

I grip my fingers around his upper arm, feeling his muscles tense under the fabric of his shirt as I rest my head on his chest. “I know, but age doesn’t matter when you’re in love. Isn’t that right, Rafey?” I look up at him, flashing a knowing look as he glimpses down at me.

He eventually lifts his gaze back to the lady and forces a smile. “That’s right.”

The lady presses her hand to her heart and pouts. “How sweet. You remind me of my husband and I when we were kids.” she takes a moment, releasing a deep sigh before facing us again, her smile gentle. “I hope your son–”

“Tiger,” I tell her the name of our imaginary son with a sheepish grin. “Well, his name is Prince Tiger, but we usually just call him Tiger.”

Rafe nods, pulling me closer to his side as he lifts his arm and wraps it around me, pulling me into him. I try to ignore the fact that I can feel his strong arms tightening around me and the fact that his cologne is intoxicating.

“Oh, that’s a… lovely name,” the lady says, clearly uncomfortable now.

Rafe’s lips curve into a half-smile. “Thanks. It’s just a shame that I recently found out I'm not his biological father,” he looks at me with a challenge in his eyes. “Turns out my girlfriend likes to fuck other guys behind my back.”

The lady is pale now, her eyebrows raised and her mouth open. I’m mirroring her expression as I turn to face her once more. I clear my throat as I rush to find something to say to make Rafe seem like the bad guy.

I know it's over when my mind goes blank, and the lady scurries off down the aisle with her cart full of supplies, her feet moving faster than the cart.

I untangle myself from Rafe’s arm and shake my head. “You’re evil! You scared that woman away!”

He shrugs, grabbing the cart again, “I think you scared her away when you told her our imaginary son was named Prince Tiger.”

“Would you have rathered him be named after his daddy?”

Rafe turns the corner and the wheels of the cart screech against the hard ground. “I’m not his Dad, remember.”

“I hope you’re happy with yourself, Rafe.”

He smiles at me, the first genuine smile I’ve seen in months. “I’m happy, thank you.”

I follow him around the store for the rest of the shopping trip before we go to the register to pay. Even when I try to pull out my phone to pay for the items, Rafe beats me to it and puts it all on his card. I scoff, “I thought all this was a waste of money.”

He ignores me and hands me the heaviest bag with a smile. “This is all the stuff you picked up. I hope it isn’t too heavy for you,” he flashes the cashier a smile before picking up the cake and a few lighter bags. “Come on, we gotta start decorating.”

I sigh, feeling the bag's weight pull me down as I follow behind him, my fingers aching and my arms falling weak. It’s too hot outside to be carrying a bag as heavy as this.

“It’s heavy,” I complain as we walk through the parking lot toward his car.

“Not my problem,” he replies, walking faster.

I groan, my head falling back as I pick up my pace to catch up with him. When I reach him and the car, my arms feel like jello. I drop the bag to the ground and let out a heavy sigh as I watch Rafe load the bags into the car.

I reach down, searching the top of the bag for the water bottle Rafe so generously bought me. As I bend over, I hear a car honk behind me, startling me to stand straight again. I turn around, watching a guy I don’t recognize wolf-whistle at me. There’s a cigarette hanging from his lips. He laughs, “Give me a twirl, sweetheart.” There’s a sleazy smile on his lips when he says, “Want me to give you a ride?”

I ignore him, turning my back to him and his truck as Rafe lifts his head from the trunk of the car, his eyes darting between me and the truck.

“Fucking bitch,” the guy calls from the truck, throwing the remainder of his cigarette in my direction.

I turn to face the truck again, ready to tell him what I think, but as I do, I see Rafe storming with his fists at his sides. I watch wide eyes as Rafe grabs the guy from inside the car by his collar, pulling him from his seat. “What did you call her?”

I release a breath, my stomach churning from anticipation. “Jesus, Rafe–”

“Say it to me. Say it to my fucking face,” Rafe urges the guy, who’s now a sickly pale color. His mouth moves, but no words come out when Rafe aggressively throws him back into his seat. “Call me a bitch, do it.”

“I didn’t realize she was your girl, man. I’m sorry–”

Rafe takes a step back from the guy's truck, and I think it’s all over when he walks back to me. “Rafe–” he cuts me off by reaching into his vehicle and grabbing one of his golf clubs. My eyes are bulging at this point, and there isn’t a thing I can do to stop him because before I can fathom what’s happening, he’s knocking the guy’s brake lights out with the club.

“What the fuck!” the guy yells as Rafe rounds the front of the car, knocking off the side mirrors. There’s glass everywhere, and I notice how shards hit Rafe’s bare legs, grazing his skin.

People are watching with wide eyes, and the elderly lady from early is on the verge of a heart attack as she watches Rafe wreck the guy’s car.

Rafe walks around to the guy’s open window and points the club at him with his head tilted. “If you fucking look at her again, I’ll do a lot worse, alright.”

The guy nods profusely as Rafe pulls the club out and gives the car door one harsh hit, denting the metal with the club. Rafe walks away, his hands white around the club as he approaches me. “Get in the car.”

I do as I’m told and climb into my seat, my hands shaking as he throws the club into the trunk and climbs in after me, barely giving me a chance to put my seatbelt on as he vaults out of the parking lot.

“Are you okay?” he asks me, his crazed eyes darting between me and the road ahead of us as he picks up the speed.

“I’m fine,” my voice is shaky as I buckle into my seat and lean back, resting my head on the headrest. “Are you okay?” I ask him, noticing the blood dripping from his knee. “You’re bleeding.”

He nods, but his fingers are pale white, and he grips the steering wheel. “I’m fine. We just need to get to the druthers and set up. That’s all. It’s fine. Everything is fine.”

“Are we going to get arrested?” I ask, gulping harshly. “My dad will kill me–”

Rafe faces me, his hands shaking as sweat builds on his forehead. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“But–”

“Nothing will happen. It’s fine. I’ll figure this out. That guy–” he points to the store that’s probably miles behind us now, “All of that was his fault. He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

I exhale a shaky breath, nodding in agreement. “I agree, but that was extreme, Rafe.”

He laughs manically, his head falling back against his seat. “It could have been worse.”

“Could it?!” I exclaim. “You nearly blinded him with the glass shards!”

Rafe glances over to me, a smile on his face as he laughs harder. “Okay, well, at least our son– Tiger, wasn’t in the car. The therapy would be crazy expensive.”

“Are you serious right now?” I hide my laugh by facing the half-opened window, feeling the cool airflow through the car.

I feel the sudden warmth of his hand meet my exposed thigh, and it’s like a bolt of electricity runs through me. I turn to face him, and the feeling runs straight to my heart, suffocating me as it takes all the air from my lungs. His eyes are on mine when I feel his fingers tighten on my skin, “It’ll be okay.”

There’s a quiet moment between us where nothing needs to be said. His palm is still on my leg, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was warming up to me again. Of course, when I think about it, his phone rings, and Theo’s name pops up on the car screen. It’s a searing reminder of what we’re actually doing here and why we’re working together. We’re not here to be friends. We’re here to set up for my brother’s birthday. His best friend’s birthday.

Rafe pulls away from me quickly and hits the answer button as Theo’s booming voice sounds through the car’s speakers. “Hey, man. Where are you?”

“Uh, I’m just– out.”

“Out? Where? Are you with Sofia?”

Ah.

Rafe shakes his head as if Theo can see him before replying, “Uh, no,” he clears his throat and shifts in his seat as I sink into mine, wishing for this car journey to be over so I can go home and get ready for the night. To see Alex.

Rafe changes the subject, “Are you still coming tonight? On the boat?”

“Yeah. Can I invite some people?” I know my brother well enough to know ‘some people’ actually means a dozen.

Rafe nods, “Sure. Just not too many, alright?”

I can hear the smirk in Theo’s voice when he answers, “Alright.”

🪽 Chapter Two of Brother's Best Friends as promised! Like, Comment & Reblogs are highly appreciated !!

🪽 Author: Matilda , Theme: Evelyn

🪽 Credits for dividers ( here & here )

[piastris-pastries]

childhood sweetheart material

oh my god!!! it's finally here, i made sure to change the posting settings this time!! i know it's not a bakery request but i've been writing them and i have a bunch in my drafts, i've got my sister editing them for me and hopefully one will be out soon... but for now enjoy my lovely's <3

pairing; carlos sainz jr x childhood best friend viviana martinez [original character]

blurb; this is a list of cute things childhood friend turned husband carlos sainz jr and his childhood friend turned wife viviana martinez do in my smau series that i'm working on called since we were eighteen, this story features a original character but for your reading pleasure, i've used 'you' and 'y/n' in this little snippet <3

currently playing; everything has changed by taylor swift ft ed sheeran "cause all i know is we said, "hello" and your eyes look like comin' home, all i know is a simple name and everything has changed, all i know is you held the door, you'll be mine and i'll be yours, all i know since yesterday is everything has changed"

from day one, you were the one;

your families have been friends for the longest time and while carlos was born a few years before you, you've been friends since you could babble at eachother

carlos can in fact still remember meeting you for the very first time, how tiny you were and his mother still has the photo of three year old carlos kissing your forehead but her personal favorite was one of you two falling asleep on eachother in the backseat of a car when she was dropping you off after a play-date

and so the years kept passing;

as years go by, you and carlos slowly begin to drift apart pursuing different careers and life goals, you knew from a young a age that you loved carlos but didn't realize it was in the romantic way until far later in life

during your teenage years, your parents thought you two were dating and no matter how much your denied it, they never believed you but that was probably due to the platonic to you both kisses you would place on eachothers cheeks or foreheads

when you were nineteen and about to move away and not see carlos for the next four to five years, not that you knew that at the time, you'd begged him to be your first time, it was one of those cliche moments of not wanting to go to college a virgin but he turned you down, saying he didn't want to ruin what you had, what a joke that seemed like now

when you two were young, around the ages of fourteen and eleven, you joked about marrying eachother one day, you even made a contract about how if you were still single after you'd turned twenty two that you'd tie the knot with eachother but as you grew apart, that contract was long forgotten about

coming back to eachother;

you found eachother again at a family reunion, you'd arrived early and got talking with his mother, catching up about life when she brought out old photo albums and low and behold at the back of the album was a paper or contract that you'd long forgotten had existed

you'd been sipping a drink in the garden when you heard the familiar voice, you'd gotten to talking when the topic of relationships came up and you discovered the both of you were single

you joked about tying the knot but he joked back about taking him to dinner first, which you did for giggles but you just fell in love with talking to eachother and began to meet up more often which eventually led to confessed feelings that had been hidden for too long, this left the rest as history

telling your families;

you were both nervous to say the least, your parents had been friends since they themselves were children, little did either of you know both of your sisters had already started to notice the change between you, the little stares and stolen glances but they had noticed it too late.. about three years too late in fact

the two of you had been planning to tell them sooner but you didn't want to give them false hope in case you broke up but you began to like the privacy and how it was just the two of you and before you knew, the two of you were approaching your three year anniversary

it was actually at your anniversary dinner that carlos proposed, you had both just stepped off a twelve hour flight and decided that instead of going out you'd get pizza

carlos thought there would be no better time than when you both sat on the couch eating pizza in comfy clothes to propose, you however almost lost it, you knew your answer was yes but instead of saying the first words out of your mouth were "you let me do this sweatpants" [if you've seen this video, i love you]

it was a week later at the traditional joint family dinner when everyone found out, your younger sister basically screaming her head off when she saw the ring on your finger as you reached for your wine glass

"what is that!" she squealed to which you winced in return and carlos chuckled, your mother looked betrayed as she too just now noticed the ring adorning your finger "when did that happen, i didn't even know you were seeing someone" she asked flabbergasted.

"does this mean you and carlos aren't together" your youngest sister had asked, she was only ten but loved carlos so much, you and carlos shared a knowing look before he shrugged his shoulders and leaned over to kiss you... that set off a frenzy among your family members

when it comes to work;

you work as an actress in horror / thriller films but you absolutely hate being scared, your the biggest wuss carlos knows but his favorite thing about your job is that he has a video on his phone of when one of your cast-mates scared the shit out of you and you screamed like the scream queen that you are

you often come home from set covered in fake blood to which carlos can't help but panic every time thinking your injured before he catches his breath and then helps you wipe it all off but not without you covering him in fake blood first

carlos quite often comes to your photo-shoots and one time the photographer wasn't happy with how the photos were working out, said that their was no real chemistry between you and the male model you had been working with and so he called a break during which you hung out with carlos, sitting in his lap and just enjoying eachothers company when the photographer caught sight of you both and it was like a light bulb went off in his head, that was the birth of the photo you had forever pinned to your instagram account

carlos always insisted on watching your movies, no matter how often you told him he didn't need to you would still come home to find him curled up on the couch with pinon as he pointed and mumbled "there's our girl" in his rough tired voice

your not afraid to show your support to carlos at his races either, attending as a long lost but now returned childhood friend at first but then eventually as his girlfriend and then wife but nobody knew that

while lando was basically carlos's best friend, to you he was your paddock child and you never let him forget it either

one of carlos's favorite things about your job was getting to see you in the gorgeous red carpet dresses, you would always show him and if he happened to be off racing, you'd facetime him instead, he loved being able to zip them up and feel your warm skin as he did it, his favorite dress was this one:

you were honestly carlos's biggest fan and without both his and his fans knowledge, you'd started an account on instagram where you posted the most outrageous things about him like this: which is one of your more tame posts btw

whenever carlos wins a race, gets on the podium or just no matter what place he gets, your wrapping your arms around him as soon as you can and whispering in his ear "i'm so proud of you mi sol"

kisses + cuddles;

there's different kinds of cuddles when it comes to yours and carlos's relationship, these include;

straddled cuddles were your sitting in his lap and wrapped around him, there is nothing sexual about it, just the two of you enjoying eachothers company

hugs from behind no matter where you are, in the motor-home or even the supermarket, carlos just likes to be holding you

and your personal favorite is when he's so exhausted and turns into the little spoon

and finally there's just this;

and then there's all the different kinds of kisses you two share

there's shoulder kisses most of which occur when carlos is hugging you from behind but they also happen in the early morning when carlos is awake and your still asleep but he just feels the need to kiss you in some way

thigh kisses, he loves to kiss your thighs and not just in the sexual way which he does indeed enjoy giving you but it also happens when he's laying in your hold with his head half in your lap and half resting on your legs

then there's the tippy toe kisses, the height difference between you and carlos was adorable but you often have to either stand on your tip toes or wear heels in order just to kiss him

then there's the kisses that you place all over his face after race cause no matter what place he comes, your always so happy for him and just need him to know how much you love him

then there's the kisses you have to tug at his shirt in order to give to him

there's the one where your kissing in bed, not in a sexual way but the 'i've missed you' loving way that has you rolling around and giggling, never wanting the kisses to end

and finally there's the kisses that both of you moaning in-between, it's these ones that normally led to your sexual encounters with eachother

touches and intimate moments;

you two have a habit of one of you two laying in bed, watching the other change in the morning or after a shower, you once said you trusted no one like how you trusted carlos and that's why you let him watch you change

then there's the times when either of you come home either from work or a race, so you sit behind eachother and gently massage the others shoulders

if your ever in the way which carlos says that you never are, he'll hook his fingers into your belt loops and gently scoot you out the way

carlos is the kind of boyfriend where if your too tired to move at the end of the day or after an event, he'll sit and gently wash your makeup from your face while your falling asleep

during the races that happen in colder countries, your often caught on camera pulling carlos close to hug him in order to warm up

your also often caught on camera walking through the paddock together with carlos's hand tucked into the back pocket of your jeans if you happen to be wearing them

and then one of your favorite things about your relationship was taking baths with carlos after a long day, feeling his body pressing against your own just brought you a sense of comfort and peace

dates [of sorts];

one of your favorite dates or even just times that you spend together is having pancake wars; where you two always try to one up eachother with your pancake recipes

whenever you guys go out for dinner, carlos always makes sure to give you the first bite of his food just in case you want to switch meals like you sometimes did

you would also often bring him lunch and end half the time end up staying so that you could eat together

he'll also sit and read you poetry late at night from your favorite poetry books

whenever you guys stay home and have date night in, carlos will often hover over your shoulder and wait to taste test the meal your cooking

then there are the museum dates you guys go on, art museums in particular have always been a part of your love for italian and spanish culture, a fan once took a photo of you and carlos in a museum where he was holding you up so that you could take photos of some of your favorite works of art

and finally and personally carlos's favorite was whenever you two went out for gelato, carlos loved the stuff and you loved taking photos of him

the little things;

just a list of all the little things that you and carlos do slash remember about eachother

your carlos's lock screen and he's yours

he wears your hair ties on his wrist and carries period products in his travel bag just in case you need them in an emergency

he always messages you when your filming to make sure that you've been eating and drinking

the two of you know eachothers routines off by heart, like when he comes home from a morning run, you'll have the shower running and waiting for him

you have a love of classic literature and you often come home to find that he's deep cleaned your bookshelves

you take care of him when he's sick

he'd been whimpering and complaining of a sore throat all day, after a while you'd had enough so you decided to call his mother and ask what she once did when he was sick as a child, when you brought carlos a mug of manzanilla or homemade chamomile tea explaining you'd gotten the recipe from his mother, carlos knew right then and there that he was going to marry you

he once gifted you a stuffed bear and a bottle of his cologne for your birthday so that you had something to cuddle when he was gone and the cologne was for when you missed his smell.. he had to comfort you when you started crying

he loves knowing that you wear his shirts to bed, reminds him that your his

and finally with all the button ups that carlos wears, you often find yourself sewing buttons back onto them, carlos once found you on the couch furiously sewing buttons back onto around ten or so shirts that you'd discovered while doing the washing

no one touches the hair except for you;

when your bored, you often end up begging carlos to let you braid his hair... it's always a yes because ever since childhood, he could never say no to you

you also love to laugh at how messy and fluffed up his hair gets in the morning, the first time you'd seen it you burst out laughing which caused him to blush

down and dirty;

while not going to into detail, here's a list of some of the things you and carlos do in bed

carlos loves eating you out, as mentioned beforehand when discussing his love for giving you thigh kisses

another obvious one was the fact that carlos loved having his pulled during sex

then there's the guided grinding, where his hands gripped at your hips while grinding you down against him

carlos's favorite position to take you in is doggy and no, i personally think there's no explanation needed

carlos has a thing for choking too, you in fact introduced him to it

and finally while it not's something you explore very regularly, you also share a spitting kink

the wedding;

it's been described by friends and family as the most beautiful wedding they'd ever attended, there are photos in the wedding album of you and carlos shoving cake in eachothers faces and instead of a three course meal, you both served pizza at your wedding instead

nicknames;

your nicknames for carlos include; mi sol [my sun] mi vida [my life] papi and mi amor [my love]

carlos called you his wife all the time, including long before you two were married

his nicknames for you include; my wife, mi vida, mi amor and corazón [heart]

aesthetic playlist;

a list of songs that describe you, carlos and your relationship

young and beautiful by lana del ray

boyfriend by ariana grande ft social house

just friends by why don't we

we can't be friends [wait for your love] by ariana grande

never be the same by camila cabello

lay all your love on me by abba

senorita by shawn mendes ft camila cabello

older by isabel larosa

money money money by abba

too sweet by hozier

everything has changed by taylor swift ft ed sheeran [taylor's version]

teenager in love by madison beer

me gustas tu by manu chao

more songs like this can be found on their official playlist

and finally;

this is just how i picture you'd reveal your relationship to the public

movies.with.y/n

movies.with.y/n; my heart always knew it'd be you @ carlossainz55

[grandline-fics]

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so he's his own warning. Brief mentions of violence and killing. Enemies to Lovers, Soulmate!AU, some slight suggestiveness(?)

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 4,540

A/N: The next chapter is here and I'm a lot happier with how this one turned out. Thank you to everyone who voted in the recent poll to determine one of the reader's talents and I think it linked into the story better than I'd anticipated. I hope you all like what I came up with and thank you for all your support, it means a lot 💕

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven | Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen(here) | Chapter Fourteen | Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen (coming soon)

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After having a taste for escaping your room, you grew more determined to get out of bed at least a couple times a day. In your eyes if the doctors were happy to reduce the strength of your medicine then you were getting well enough to be more physical even if it was a light walk into the corridors. Some attempts were more successful than others. Some occasions you’d managed to avoid anyone spotting you until you were already headed back to your room and allowed them to usher you back to bed without much resistance. Other times you were caught almost immediately. Depending on who it was, their tactics for getting you back to your room varied. 

The servants pleaded, fearing Doflamingo’s anger would be directed their way, some even going so far as to fall onto their knees in front of you. The doctors tried to convince you to be a little more patient and with a few more days of complete bedrest you could maybe start attempting light exercise but not yet, throwing medical jargon at you to exhaust and frustrate you. For them you dug your heels in but eventually went back. Then the middle and lower ranked pirates seemed the most unsure about how to approach you because you always held your ground with them, refusing to go to your room. They couldn’t order you to go back and touching you was not an option so all they could do was block your way forward while one of the group ran off to get Doflamingo. 

It didn’t matter what the Warlord was doing, all it took was the report you were out of bed to get him to his feet. He followed the subordinate to your location. Upon seeing him appear you would let out a huff, watching him approach and let your body go limp when he lifted you; sometimes under his arm or over his shoulder. Normally he went straight for your room, this time however he turned and started to head back in the direction of his office. “Oh, we going the scenic route today?”

“You’re sounding better.” Doflamingo noted, choosing to ignore your question. “Your breathing seems clearer.”

“That’s what I keep telling you and your doctors, I’m practically completely healed.”

“Apart from your unrecovered energy levels, remaining infection reading in your latest test, limited-”

“I said practically, not entirely. No need to get smart.” You cut in with an unimpressed roll of your eyes as you heard the office doors open while Doflamingo laughed. “So, why the change today?”

“I have a lot of work to catch up on and so long as you’re here you won’t get into trouble.”

“I could get into plenty of trouble here if I wanted to.” You answered with a disgruntled mutter as you were dropped unceremoniously onto the plush sofa near his desk. 

“Well then by all means, cause trouble.” Doflamingo taunted down at you, the challenging grin fixed firmly on his lips as he watched you recline against the cushions and glared at him while a pout shaped your lips. 

“Don’t want to. Maybe later.” You explained. Truthfully the walk through the halls before you were caught had started to drain you and now that you were sitting down again, you weren’t going to get back up anytime soon. Doflamingo didn’t need to know that though. Even if he correctly assumed the reason for your choice to relax against the sofa, you weren’t going to admit it out loud. Draping your arm over the back of the sofa and laying your head against it you glanced towards the desk to see the stacks of papers on the usually tidied and more managed surface. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about work. Guess there’s more to being a King and ruler of a criminal empire than attending fancy galas and terrorising civilians.”

“I much prefer the paperwork to fancy galas.” Doflamingo told while while he slid into his desk chair and lifted the top sheet of paper on one of his piles. 

“Oh yeah, good food, good booze. Simply torture.” You drawled sarcastically.

“Go to one you’ve been to them all. Besides there’s no actual entertainment.” Doflamingo explained without taking his eyes from the report of materials expected to be brought to Dressrosa’s SMILE factory in the coming days. “Everyone tries to be sneaky and subtle about their clumsy assassination attempts and seductions and fail spectacularly. Plus the fancier they are, the less blood gets spilled. Boring.”

“Awww poor King Doffy doesn’t get to massacre rich people.” You pouted in false sympathy. “However will you survive such hardships?”

“With admirable dignity and humility.” Doflamingo grinned when you let out a small amused huff at his reply and moved onto the next set of reports. “Why so curious anyway? Would have thought you’d have harsher feelings than I do on fancy nobles and their parties.”

“Being a bodyguard on the sidelines or stationed outside their rooms until they returned isn’t exactly the same as attending.” You shrugged lazily. You weren’t often stationed on those kinds of missions. Normally your assignments were more action and surveillance based. Protecting people of importance and wealth was usually left to those with higher ranks and for the most part those were the easiest jobs about since it was more a precaution than a necessity to have a Marine presence at such events. You hardly needed to worry or think about that now though, given your new place in life. No longer dwelling on it, you focused your attention onto Doflamingo once more.

Silently you were impressed to see how much he’d manage to work through in such a short amount of time. It made you wonder why he’d let it all just gather in the first place. You knew enough by now to know the correspondences, missives, updates and completed reports from subordinates never came through at a rate to make it unmanageable. Because you’d been so ill you hadn’t heard much chatter from the servants that you’d normally pick up on when they were unaware you were in earshot so you had no idea what else was happening with Doflamingo or the rest of Dressrosa. Then you paused, had he neglected everything because you’d been ill? You recalled how nervous everyone was around him while you’d been so close to death. Perhaps it was for the best he’d ignored those reports until now. You noticed his jaw clench slightly as he read over the sheets of paper in his hands before setting it aside to a new pile while making note of something on a different sheet of paper. Had he read that a week ago, there was no telling how he’d have dealt with it and the person who sent the report had no idea how lucky they were.

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Over the course of the next few days your plans to leave your room were already met and anticipated by Doflamingo before any servant, doctor, or subordinate could find you first. As expected you were brought to his office and dropped on his sofa while he continued to work. Some cases you grabbed a random book from the shelves to flick through to pass the time in between idly talking to Doflamingo or taking a small nap. 

For you it was just nice to be somewhere other than your room and you weren’t pestered as much here as you would have been in your room by the still hovering and assessing doctors. Even with your visible improvement they weren’t ready to give you a complete all-clear just yet, their protectiveness and cautiousness stemming from their own need of self-preservation more than anything. For Doflamingo, having the reassurance that you were staying still and technically resting while also being in his line of sight brought him the ability to focus on things again. At least for the most part because today it seemed like you were determined to be restless. You were constantly shifting on the sofa, adjusting the cushions, lifting the current book that had your attention only to close it and set it aside repeatedly. 

While he was re-reading the same line of the report for what felt like the tenth time he finally looked up when you rose from the sofa and started walking around the spacious office. Surely you had everything memorised by now but still you casually let your eyes scan everything, searching for something you might have missed or something to capture your unsettled attention. Finally you stopped longer than you had at anything else and Doflamingo sighed when he realised what it was. “Have you been cleared yet for alcohol?”

“Have you given them permission to clear me yet for alcohol?” You asked lazily, turning your head to give him an accusatory stare. Your fingers curled around the handle of the drinks cabinet and slowly opened it, your knowing smile growing when Doflamingo clicked his tongue. Your pressed a little more. “I’m down to medication just once a day now. Just a little one? I’ll even be nice and let you pour.” 

Even as you asked you didn’t fully wait for an answer, your fingers were already skimming along the neck of the first bottle you came into contact with, but not firmly taking it yet. Keeping your eyes only on Doflamingo allowed you to at least pretend to be innocent. After a few seconds Doflamingo sat back in his seat and arched his fingers, pulling two glasses from the inside of the cabinet and letting them settle silently onto his desk. Immediately you grabbed the bottle under your touch and brought it to him, perching yourself on the edge of the desk while handing the bottle over. You looked momentarily surprised to see him pour a plentiful amount into the first glass but then you glowered when he poured a pathetic dribble by comparison into the second and pushed it towards you. “Cheers.”

“Gee thanks.” You hummed unenthusiastically. Really you knew to be grateful to even get that much when he could have easily been a bigger asshole and given you a single drop instead. Lifting your glass you took a small sip, deciding to savour the drink you had. The rich taste flooded your mouth and you wanted to drain the glass completely now but knew you had to resist that urge. Forcing yourself to take sips you distracted yourself with the paperwork on the desk. 

Your eyes scanned the different locations each report was coming from, places deep into the Grand Line and as far back as the North, South, East, and West Blues. You caught sight of ‘Wano’ on a letter underneath a few other pages and your eyes flickered to Doflamingo. So his criminal empire even had a connection to Kaidou? Deciding you were better off not delving any deeper into things you turned on the desk so you were instead facing the window behind Doflamingo and let your gaze drift upwards. The usually bright blue skies seemed to be gathering more clouds today. While you were silently predicting that rain was going to hit at some point in the day you were pulled from your thoughts when you heard Doflamingo’s pen snap and his voice growling out a curse of anger. “Problem?” 

“Weapon shipment got intercepted by the group they were meant to be used on.” Doflamingo growled, casting the missive aside to take a longer drink from his own glass, now in greater need for the sharp alcohol. These things did happen occasionally but it was infuriating all the same. You lifted the paper and scanned over the report. You didn’t see any mention of who the groups were. The name of the island the report came from didn’t ring a bell as being a place under protection or rule of the World Government. Your expression became thoughtful, not escaping Doflamingo’s notice. “What?”

“Civilians aren’t involved in this?” You asked, deciding to address that point before speaking your mind. 

“No, it’s a lawless island. Two major criminal groups are fighting over territory.” He explained, sitting back in his seat, propping his foot onto his knee. “What are you thinking?”

“Let the opposing group keep the weapons they intercepted.” You explained, rolling your eyes when Doflamingo interrupted you with a bored, uninterested noise. “Extort a bigger payment for replacement weapons to be sent out to the group it was intended for since they’re clearly compromised and there’s a risk of getting intercepted again.”

“Who said they’re compromised?” 

“They probably aren’t but it’ll spread distrust amongst them.” You shrugged, taking the final sip in your glass. “Tensions will be high anyway, no doubt some will already be thinking how their enemies knew about the weapons coming. It’ll lead to infighting, some will most likely defect and start a third group. That third group will need weapons too and they’ll reach out to you.”

Doflamingo’s grin had been spreading the more you talked. Truly you had a diabolical mind when it came to dealing with criminals. So long as it didn’t involve innocents or civilians, you held no remorse for letting criminals hurt or kill each other. It was an added sign you were recovering because the last time he caught a glimpse of this side of you was just before you’d fallen ill and you’d both kissed after he watched you kill. Quickly needing to wipe the memory of the tempting taste of your lips Doflamingo drained his glass and grabbed the bottle of alcohol, pouring another small amount into your glass and then poured into his own. 

“I think a plan like that deserves another drink.” He explained, grinning at your confusion over his actions. Slowly you looked up at him and smirked, not going to say no to another glass of the delicious drink. You lifted your glass and this time, you clinked your glass against his in gratitude.

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As you’d expected rain did fall that night and into the following morning. When you stepped out of your room you were slightly caught off guard to see that Doflamingo was nowhere to be seen. Partly you suspected he was still in the dining room with the family for breakfast and if that was the case you knew it wouldn’t be long before he made his way to his office. As you walked you thought you would have run into him along the way but still he didn’t show. You were confused until you opened the doors and stopped to see Doflamingo already at his desk, reclined back on his seat and from the deep, even breaths you could see he was asleep. His face was obscured by an open book and as you stepped closer you saw it was the one you had been idly reading while he worked. 

Standing by the desk you saw that save for a couple of new reports and letters, everything else had been cleared away. Silently you became suspicious that he had decided to work through the night to clear the backlog. Perhaps after coming across the days old report of the intercepted weapon shipment, he didn’t want to risk missing any other important reports. With a small sigh you reached out, beginning to lift the book from his face only to stop when you saw under the cover of the book his glasses were no longer covering his closed eyes. You froze and stared as your attention was firmly grabbed by his face. You knew he was handsome, but without there was just something that heightened his looks now that the glasses no longer obscured his features. 

You could finally see the full peacefulness in his expression as he slept. Tilting your head you spotted the pale lashes brushing against his cheeks. You curiously now tried to picture him with different eye colours, trying to work out what suited him best and what the truth was. Looking around you couldn’t see his signature glasses anywhere and you weren’t about to start rifling through Doflamingo’s pockets for them. As carefully as you could you set the book back over his face and took your place on the edge of the desk, deciding to stay close just incase the book fell. In all your time here you knew it was an unspoken rule to never see Doflamingo’s eyes without his permission. 

You recalled passing by in the gardens one day to overhear one of the maids shaking in fear as she recounted for her friends that in the middle of one of his attempts to kill you, the glasses had slipped slightly. She explained that she turned her back in time and didn’t see a thing, relieved that Doflamingo was too busy with you to have even questioned what she saw. You remembered how the other servants sympathised with how frightening that must have been while also joining in her relief that no harm befell her for what would have been an accident. Part of you had considered waking him now while it was just the two of you but after seeing how peaceful he was, you decided he needed the rest even if it was for just a little while longer. 

That extra time didn’t last long at all. You heard the sound of footsteps approaching and moved on the desk to block more of Doflamingo from their view when they would open the door. However in your adjustment, it caused Doflamingo to stir in his sleep, the book falling to the floor before you could stop it. As you heard the soft knock and handle turning you moved without thinking. Your hand fell over Doflamingo’s eyes while you landed on his chair. With your knees on either side of his legs you made sure to keep all of your weight off of him and turned your head sharply to see who had entered. 

“Ah! U-um.” You stared hard at the servant who froze in place at the scene in front of him. For yet another instance in your time on Dressrosa there was an innocent explanation for what was happening but those that intruded saw things differently. From this servant’s perspective you were straddling his King, unable to see you were only doing this for his benefit.

“What is it?” You asked sharply, not knowing how much longer Doflamingo would be asleep for but your tone only served to fluster the servant, mistaking it for frustrated impatience. His mouth opened and closed as he tried to force his mind to work. His floundering however only annoyed you. 

“N-no-nothing important!” The servant finally managed to declare once he wasn’t so tongue-tied. “Sorry for intruding!”

You watched the servant bow lowly and scramble to leave the room, pulling the door shut behind him. You let out a sigh at the same time Doflamingo’s chuckle began to build in his chest. Still you remained unmoving, staring down at his laughing face as you kept your hand over his eyes. Only now you could feel that his eyes were open, his lashes brushing against your skin with each relaxed blink. 

“Where are your glasses?” You asked, not needing to explain yourself, knowing Doflamingo was awake long enough and smart enough to connect things. Still he laughed at the situation and could already imagine the gossip-hungry servants having this spread through the palace before lunchtime. To lazily answer your question, Doflamingo sat up from his previously reclined position and used his strings to pull his glasses from the top drawer of his desk and let them dangle in the air. With Doflamingo’s change in his seat you were closer against him but still you refused to draw any further attention to how close and intimate this was and how easily it could have been deepened should either of you wishes it to. Instead you kept on the topic at hand. “Aren’t you going to put them on?” 

“Don’t you want to see first?” Doflamingo asked in amusement but you could clearly hear the curiosity underneath. 

“What horrors await me if I look?” You asked, a small smile curving your lips while Doflamingo’s grin grew. “Everyone’s so scared about what happens if they see, it needs to live up to the hype. Will I turn to stone? Or will I have my eyes gouged out maybe?”

“Does it matter? You’re unaffected regardless of what would await you.” Even though his eyes were covered, Doflamingo could practically hear the bored pout shaping your lips at his answer. “Choice is yours though.”

You weighed the options but ultimately decided that seeing that part of Doflamingo, to see a part of him no one else was allowed to was a step in trust and further closeness you weren’t ready to invite or indulge. Keeping your hand in place you leant over to reach for the glasses suspended in the air. You stilled when you felt Doflamingo’s hand settle on your lower back; not to pull you closer but just to simply keep you steady. You managed to get a firm hold on the glasses and pulled them towards Doflamingo’s face. “Close your eyes.”

Doflamingo smirked and did as you instructed, only feeling the gentle warmth of your touch leave his face when you felt his eyes close firmly and were certain he was going to keep them closed. He felt the cold frames brush against his skin and even after he felt the familiar dark tinted lenses hover over his eyes he still kept them closed. You stared down at him for a moment, amazed at how different he seemed now all because of his glasses. To those who were scared of him, never knowing what lay beneath the very recognisable accessories only added to the menacing and mysterious enigma that was Donquixote Doflamingo. To you though, this was the version of him that you knew and were used to. “Okay, you can open them now.”

“You took your time.” Doflamingo chuckled. “Were you going to change your mind?”

“Nope, was just relishing in you doing as you were told for just a little while longer.”

“Well with a view like this can you blame me? Now I can fully appreciate what got my servant so flustered.”

“Oh shut up.” You lightly rolled your eyes at his teasing, shoving his shoulder as he grinned widely. You finally rose from his lap and crouched down to collect the fallen book from the floor. As you straightened and stronger and clearer knock sounded compared to the soft and meek one the servant had made. 

“Doffy, is it okay to come in now?” You frowned at the deep voice, you didn’t recognise the speaker on the other side of the door. Doflamingo knew him though and with a twitch of his finger he pulled the doors open with his ability. You watched the figure enter and you stiffened to see Vice-Admiral Vergo walk into the room, completely at ease. You knew Doflamingo had people working on his behalf from inside the Marines given how well-connected he was but you had no idea it went so high. You remained standing in place by the desk while Vergo came to a stop in front of his, his attention firmly on Doflamingo. 

“This is a surprise.” He grinned at his subordinate. “This a social call or is it something more pressing?”

“Social but I’ll be setting off again very soon.” Vergo replied simply. “Decided to stop by on my way to Punk Hazard. Partly I wanted to see your soulmate for myself Doffy, I truly didn’t see that coming when you first told me they rendered your abilities powerless.” Finally Vergo turned his head toward you. “Your personal affects from your Marine lodgings were sent into storage. I brought what I could with me and instructed one of the servants to leave them in your room when I arrived.”

Your personal affects? You frowned slightly at that. Any uniforms you had there would have been reclaimed for officers. The same would have been the case for any of your standard issue weapons. At first you couldn’t think of what would have been snuck out of storage to bring to Dressrosa then your eyes widened. You wasted no time and left the room, moving straight for your room. Seeing you leave so abruptly made Doflamingo’s grin slip slightly, and he looked to his elite officer as he rose from his seat. After having sat for so long through the night finishing his work and sleeping, he now needed to stretch his legs. “What was that about?”

“You’ll find out soon enough. First I need to ask, when I arrive on Punk Hazard am I to check on his progress regarding the research you asked him to look into?” 

Doflamingo left the office with Vergo matching his strides, walking in silence as Doflamingo considered the question. In the beginning when the first few attempts to kill you hadn’t worked he’d tasked the scientist to look into the matter of soulmates to find a way to kill you by his own hand. Since there’d been no updates or theories on how to undo fate from him, and with the recent events Doflamingo hadn’t bothered to contact him. “Since he’s yielded no results in the time I’ve given him, tell him to stop and return all of his focus to SAD. The last thing he needs is to fall behind schedule.” Vergo nodded and for a moment Doflamingo thought he’d take his leave immediately. It was never in him to linger, out of a need to ensure the wrong person didn’t spot him in Dressrosa and blow his cover that he was truly on the side of the Donquixote Family. “Was there anything else you wanted to discuss, Vergo?”

“Hm? No. I just wanted to hear first.”

“Hear what?” To answer Doflamingo’s question a sound began to break through the silent corridors. What began as the low testing of a bow against the strings, playing individual chords soon turned into the starting of a song. Immediately it caught his attention, the striking melody building and capturing notice of the rest of the inhabitants within earshot. Vergo let out a low appreciative whistle at the obvious mastery of your playing. Satisfied he bid farewell to Doflamingo and moved towards the palace’s exit while Doflamingo headed closer to the sound of the violin being played finally stopping at the open door. You stood in the middle of the room, eyes closed and lost entirely in the song you were playing. As the song quickened Doflamingo couldn’t help but stare at your fingers moving against the strings under your precise command, noting how they arced and pressed beautifully in a way almost reminiscent of how his own hands moved when he used his strings. Of all the things you had a talent at, of all the instruments you  could have known to play, it had to be this. It just had to something that created another similarity and connection between you both and with each one he discovered it made it just an extra bit harder to want to sever it.

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