just for my own entertainment

“I have a sore cheek,” he offered. “Bit it. It’s been annoying me when I eat.”

You gave him a teasing look. “You know I mean serious injuries.”

“Mm, I know what you meant. I think this is a serious enough injury if it’s going to make it impossible for me to eat again.”

You laughed, despite yourself. “Why do you ask if you’re not going to let me help?”

He moved his head so his chin rested against your chest, forcing you to look down to meet his eyes. “Kinda just wanted to talk to you. We haven’t spoken much.”

The hand you’d been using to gently tickle his back stilled. You lowered your book to the side. Hadn’t you? You supposed you had been quite caught up watching him over the past few days – so much so that you might have forgotten to do anything else.

“I guess not,” you said. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I didn’t mean you have to.”

“I want to,” you reassured firmly. “I’ve just been worried about… well, a lot of things. But it’s not because I don’t want to talk.”

His brows creased in sympathy. “Sorry. I wish I could help.”

You nudged his head up so you could see him better. He flopped onto your pillow; body pressed firmly against your side even when he wasn’t fully lounging over you.

“Don’t apologise,” you said. “You’re doing everything you need to. You’re healing your injuries to make things easier. I’m just appreciating you being here. Once you’re back, I’ll relax a whole lot more and we’ll go get dinner or something.”

“That’s not really a worthy thank you for bringing me back to life,” he scoffed.

“It’ll be enough for me.”

“I was worried it was the ribs,” he admitted. “Thought maybe they grossed you out or something.”

You moved slightly back and turned so you could look toward the injury in his torso, confused what he could mean. They were strange looking, that was true, but they were more relieving than anything else. They were a sign he was slowly growing stronger.

“I actually like them,” you said. “I find you very attractive when all your internal parts are functioning and appropriately bloody.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Ugh, don’t say it like that.”

“Although, I have noticed something now and I’m wondering about it… how are you still eating when there’s no way for the food to get to your stomach?”

Ace shrugged but he had a wide smile on his face now. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s why I’m always hungry.”

“From what I’ve heard, the two aren’t connected.”

He huffed. “I kind of wish I could see what it looked like to you. It’s a little difficult to see without any working mirrors.”

“I can try to describe it?” you offered. “But somehow, I don’t think that’s going to help much.”

“Could you try?”

He was definitely teasing but you shuffled yourself away so you could make a show of examining the injury. You hummed purposefully and tilted your head left and right.

“It looks like a hole.”

“Really?”

“A hole with some ribs in it and quite a few missing things I could steal.”

“Hey!”

You grabbed at his side playfully and he immediately caught your wrist before you could make contact. You batted your eyelashes up innocently at him and he laughed, tugging you forward as though to pull you back against him. Instead of resisting, you planted your free hand on the mattress and pushed back.

Ace made a startled sound as his back hit the bed with your momentum.

You swung one knee carefully over his thighs, avoiding the open injury where it punctured through his torso. You pulled your hand free and caught his wrist, holding it above his head. His other arm remained trapped awkwardly at his side.

“There,” you said. “Much better.” You ran your fingers down back down toward his side. “Now I can take whatever I want.”

He stared at you with exaggerated disbelief. “You attacked an injured man?”

“A temporarily dead man actually,” you corrected, squeezing his side in a way that made him jolt slightly.

Oh?

You smiled down at him, pleased with the victory and did it again, drawing a small laugh from him. His hair spread messily beneath his head, freckles bunched together in response to the tickling.

“You look very comfortable,” he said.

“I am.”

He lifted his head toward you and you laughed softly, leaning down toward the warmth of his mouth as he was so clearly asking.

He twisted beneath you. His trapped arm slipped free and circled your waist before you could tighten your hold. The mattress dipped sharply beneath your knees and the room rolled with it; a second later, your back hit the bed with a small puff of air. Ace caught your wrist above your head, his palm warm and firm around it as he grinned down at you.

You pushed playfully at his chest. “That was cheating.”

“Should have expected it from a pirate.”

“I thought you were going to kiss me.”

“I am.”

He leaned down and planted an unnecessarily loud kiss against your cheek. Then your forehead. Then your other cheek. You struggled not to laugh as he began to scatter quick kisses across every part of your face he could reach. You squirmed beneath him, giggles slipping free momentarily as he continued.

“This is revenge,” he told you between the kisses.

“I barely tickled you!”

“It was enough.”

You turned your face into the pillow in an attempt to escape. Ace immediately made a pleased sound and began to press kisses down your neck instead, littering them over your shoulder and your collarbone despite your best attempts to nudge him away.

He found a particularly ticklish spot and kissed it again, slower this time and you finally managed to catch his jaw with your free hand, holding him in place. His grin softened around the edges and his next attempted kiss landed crookedly.

“You owe me a proper one at least,” you said through fast breaths.

“I’ll think about it.”

You pulled him down properly. His smile remained against your mouth for a few seconds, the kiss clumsy and warm. But then he let go of your wrist, playfulness melting away into something gentler.

Your fingers moved into his hair, holding him close while his thumb brushed against your side. He was careful with his weight, balanced above you without letting the damaged part of his chest press against yours but the heat still radiated over your body.

When he finally moved away, he remained close enough that his nose brushed yours.

“I won,” he hummed.

“Won what?” you laughed.

He shrugged without an answer and fell back to your side, immediately curling back against your body. His arm fell across your chest and his face buried comfortably into the space beneath your jaw as though personal space was a suggestion.

“We still have somewhere to be today,” you mentioned.

“How long?”

“An hour.”

“Good enough for a nap.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and sighed, reaching for your book. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to stop when he was alive. Yet, you found you didn’t really mind the idea of it.

Ace was very tired that day. The library was warm and close, sunlight lying in pale bars across the carpet while dust drifted lazily between the shelves. Instead of even trying to discuss the next steps after Akainu, he dropped his head into your lap the moment you sat down, sprawling onto his back with his hair tickling your legs.

“Are you sure you don’t want a chair?” Robin asked from her seat at the table. “It might make discussions easier.”

“Not for somebody else,” you mentioned. “Who wants to sleep.”

“Oh, I see,” she said. “Well, I suppose there’s nothing else to it.”

She sat down beside you and you laughed. There was a perfectly good table and chairs.

Marco sighed and stood up, moving to sit beside you too with a wince. “You’re enabling a bad habit by letting him sleep on you all the time, yoi. He’s going to start expecting it whenever he feels tired.”

But despite the faint reprimand, his smile remained genuine.

“Start?” you said. “That’s not his default?”

“Only when you allow it to be.”

Somebody caught your wrist.

You glanced down with the smile still on your face, expecting to find Ace’s fingers curled there.

Both of his hands lay loose at his sides.

Nothing touched you, and yet the grip tightened and wrenched your arm forward hard enough for your palm to strike his forehead. Cold bit through your skin. It was not the ordinary chill of a room or a breeze but something deep and lifeless, cold enough to ache in the bones of your hand.

The unseen grip stopped mattering. You pressed your palm to his cheek and found the same terrible cold there.

“Ace?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, hoping desperately to stir him from his sleep. When it didn’t work the first time, you tried it again. Twice. He remained unmoving, eyes resting firmly closed.

“Hey, Ace?”

Had his head always been this heavy?

You pushed at his shoulders and found them unyielding. When you slid both hands beneath his skull and tried to lift him, the full weight of him dragged against your arms, dense and wrong. His head pressed so heavily into your thighs that your legs had begun to ache beneath it.

“What’s wrong?” Robin asked.

“He’s not moving,” you said. “Ace. Ace, come on. Please wake up.”

“What do you mean not moving, yoi?” Marco asked. Blue flames came to his hands seemingly on instinct, even with nothing to heal.

“He fell asleep,” you said. “But now he’s cold and he’s not responding. Ace! Baby, I really need you to open your eyes.”

You pulled your legs back and his head thumped too heavily on the ground. He didn’t even stir. You moved past Robin, swinging to his side instead to grab his upper arms and try shaking him.

“Has this happened before?” Marco asked.

“Once,” you said. “In the middle of the night. I woke up and he was on fire and… Ace, come on! Please. He woke up the first time. I grabbed his arms like this and he came back. But he was on fire then.”

For just a second, the hand you had on his arm started to slip through.

Your fingers sank through his body before it suddenly reformed and went back to normal. Your heart just about stopped. No. No. No. No. He wasn’t slipping away from you. That was not something that was happening.

The hand on your wrist tightened and you looked to your side for a second, finding nothing there.

“What?” you hissed through your teeth. “I’m trying.”

You reached up and brushed the hair from his face, tapping his cheek. He had to wake up. You were not about to let him fade away.

“Please,” you said. “Ace. You can sleep more later. Just wake up now.”

Marco clearly didn’t like being useless. You could see his fingers clenching and unclenching at his sides, the blue flames creeping brighter as he looked between your hands. “Do you know what caused it the first time?”

“No,” you said desperately. “He’s been fine. It’s been days and… this is the longest it’s happened for.”

“Is he showing any responsiveness? Eyelid fluttering?”

“Nothing,” you said. “He’s not moving at all and he’s cold.”

“Is his body resisting when you try to move him?”

“I don’t know.”

How would you possibly know that? Maybe there was an injury causing it? You looked toward the hole in his chest. Was there something worse? If you could find what was causing it then you just had to take it for him to wake up.

Robin had taken your journal. You could hear the rapid rustle of paper but you couldn’t bring yourself to take your eyes off him. Maybe food? Food always woke him up.

“Ace,” you said, his name a wounded plea. “Ace.”

You were probably strong enough to take the chest injury, right? Marco could heal it. He was right there. If you grabbed the whole thing… you reached without thinking and pulled.

Warmth blossomed beneath your fingers, hot enough to burn.

Then Ace gasped.

The sound came out wet and strangled, blood catching somewhere inside it.

Robin jerked hard enough for the journal to tumble from her lap and Marco’s flames flared bright across the room.

Ace’s eyes flew open. He gave a desperate, retching gasp for air; as though he was choking on the sound itself. His mouth worked around another desperate breath that would not come, fingers clawing at empty air.

Then his chest hitched. He bolted upright, both hands flying to his throat as one breath chased another too quickly as he tipped toward hyperventilation. You hovered, uncertain if you could touch him.

“What the hell?” he coughed.

Relief hit like a cannon blast, rattling through your ribs and leaving your limbs weak. You threw yourself at him and he caught you on instinct, arms locking around your sides.

Your knee landed in something warm and wet.

You flinched and looked down. Blood had soaked into the carpet where he had been lying, bright red between the fibres and spreading slowly beneath your leg. You froze. When you lifted one hand from his shoulder, blood shone wetly across your palm.

“That hurt,” Ace muttered. “What happened?”

He raised a hand past you and wiped at his mouth. You leaned back just in time to see him looking at the bright red smear on his skin in confusion. The corners of his mouth stained faintly.

“Where did that come from?” he muttered.

You looked toward Marco whose flames flickered uselessly at his arms. He stared at the blood on the ground, his face paler than you thought was possible for anybody. “Was…” he swallowed roughly around nothing. “Did you just… was that actually Ace?”

“Yes,” Robin said behind you, her voice surprisingly shaking. “I saw him too.”

Ace’s attention snapped toward Marco. For a second, he simply stared at him, taking in the pallor of his face and the blue flames trembling uselessly around his hands. Something shifted in Ace’s expression, the confusion softening into a startled, fragile sort of hope.

“Did I miss something?”

He was looking to you for an answer, but your throat had closed around every word. Blood was pooling on the carpet. Real blood, thick with the smell of iron until it coated the back of your tongue. He had sounded as though he was choking on actual air. None of it should have been possible.

He touched your cheek and you startled, drawing in a quick, sharp breath at the familiar warmth smoothing against your skin.

“Hey. Are you okay?”

“I…”

It was the best you could do. He followed your gaze and startled at the blood on the floor, eyes flicking to your leg in momentary panic before he looked to Marco.

“Are you hurt?”

“No,” you said softly. “You were hurt.”

“What?”

Robin cleared her throat and her voice sounded as though it was coming to you through a wall. “Perhaps all the items you gather make it easier to focus, but the ability itself lies inside the fruit. Most devil fruit don’t require external assistance, after all.”

You glanced down at your leg and warily dragged a single finger through the blood. It smudged into your skin.

“He was actually here.”

Ace turned his head like an owl, looking at each of you before he reached around his back. His palm came away bright red and he stared at it blankly. “I can bleed?”

“You were slipping,” you said to him. “Fading away and I was trying to grab onto you and I think… I think I tried to pull too much because for a second, you were right in front of us. Like breathing.”

“Fading?” he repeated.

You reached out and took his upper arm in your hand, thumb brushing over his tattoo slowly as you tried to push through and found yourself happy there was no give.

“You were asleep and when I tried to touch you, I passed through just a little. I was panicking really badly.”

He frowned. “What? I wasn’t asleep… I don’t think so anyway. I knew where I was but everything was kind of quiet. I just thought everybody wasn’t talking.”

“We’re certainly going to need to replace the carpet, regardless,” Robin said. “But this is interesting, don’t you think? If you were trying to just bring him back a little and you broke the boundary for a few seconds… well, it’s good to know.”

“I can transfer injuries and items,” you said. “Not people.”

“Clearly you can do both,” Marco said and his voice was sharp.

You settled back onto the carpet, one hand still clamped around Ace’s arm. You forced yourself to notice how solid he felt beneath your fingers and how warm his skin was even without flames curling over it. Anything was easier than remembering the terrible weight of his head in your lap or the moment your hand had begun to pass through him.

Were you running out of time? There was probably a limit to how long you could have a spirit but in all the past accounts, the danger should have been to you.

And you… you looked down at your arm, untouched.

Something had knocked you into Ace’s head to feel that he was slipping away. You ran a hand over your forearm but found nothing.

Ace’s hand fell over yours and you glanced up at him. Concern shone deeply in his eyes and you let out a shaking breath. He was still here. Even if he had been fading, you’d managed to bring him back for now. Anxiety scratched at your brain as you watched him.

“I’m alright,” he said and you weren’t entirely sure you could believe him. “But did you seriously do that? It felt like I was choking.”

You swallowed. “I pulled you through. Fully.”

“His injuries aren’t healed enough,” Marco said. “He couldn’t breathe.”

“And you bled,” you said.

Ace stared at the blood coating his palm. His smile arrived slowly, uncertain around the edges. “They really saw me?”

“Yes,” you said.

His eyes flicked toward Marco. “That’s… kind of amazing.” He swallowed and looked back at you. “Still don’t know how I feel about you going through me.”

You shook your head. “It was a one-time thing,” you said, as firmly as you could. “Just proof that we can’t keep waiting. Then it’ll be fine.”

“What are you still waiting on?” Robin asked. “Perhaps we can source the supplies elsewhere.”

If you could pull him through here with desperation alone, you didn’t know if you even needed more than one conduit. Maybe even just the location would be enough? Maybe not even that. You could probably do it. Sure, the risk would be higher but it was possible.

“If I did it once without, maybe I can do it again,” you suggested.

“Do you know what you did?” Marco asked.

“I know what it felt like,” you said. “I think I could find it again.”

You remembered the snag. The wrong thing you grabbed. And though you could feel exhaustion seeping into your bones, you felt certain you should be able to do that again. Maybe. Most likely.

Ace rubbed absently at the edges of the wound and gave you a small smile. It was too gentle, too settled, and something in your chest pulled tight at the sight of it. He looped an arm around your shoulders and dragged you into a firm hug, squeezing you against him while the flames along his skin guttered and caught again. You breathed out and let yourself relax into the heat.

“It’ll be okay,” he said. “Either way.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to disappear,” he said quickly. “I’m not saying that. I just… I saw the grave. I know people came back. I know they cared. That’s more than I thought I’d get.”

“Ace…”

“So don’t look like everything’s already over. I’m not scared.”

You didn’t have words to respond to him with because the problem was creeping into your throat as the realisation settled. Was he moving on? Unknowingly, sure, but he was coming to peace with the idea of being dead.

Marco drew a slow breath and when he spoke again, his voice had taken on the clipped steadiness of a doctor faced with an injury he could treat.

“Can you check the wound?” he asked. “Tell me if it looks smaller than you remember? If he was alive, even if for a second, his fruit may have been trying to fix it.”

You focused on his tone. On his logic because if you let yourself think about what Ace said for too long, you worried you might panic again.

You didn’t meet Ace’s eyes. You shifted behind him instead, using the broken lines of his tattoo to judge the wound. The scorched edges no longer cut as deeply through the symbol. The hole had drawn inward, leaving a little more of the tattoo intact than there had been before.

“It’s smaller,” you said.

“Really?” Ace asked, sounding far too excited for a man who just told you he wanted to move on. Or that he was okay with it.

“Not again today,” Marco said. Something fierce had settled over his face. “But if we can determine how long he was alive and control the next crossing, his fruit and mine may be able to repair the wound in stages.”

“So we do it again?” you asked.

“After we plan it, yoi. We test the shortest possible interval. We don’t gamble.”

You nodded and then threw your arms around Ace, buried your face into his shoulders and squeezed him hard enough to get a small cough from him.

It felt wrong for you to be upset that he had come to peace with his death.

It felt even worse that you were upset with yourself for helping him get there.

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He was already about to film his first porn video — well, first one with his face showing — when he met you.

It was a fateful day. Your work friend was getting married and throwing a bachelorette party. You didn’t even want to have the conversation about how bachelorette or bachelor parties are usually just people’s excuse to cheat one last time.

Like, what’s there to celebrate about being single if you actually love your partner? You weren’t going to miss being single.

But you decided to go. And the fact that you were everyone’s boss made things a little awkward. You were the youngest person to even reach your position.

So, to the strip club you all went.

It’s Friday — well, technically Saturday now, since it’s past midnight — and the club is just starting to light up.

It’s dark, with blasting music, older women, and harsh red lights. “Or Nah” by Ty Dolla $ign and The Weeknd is playing. Your group sits at the front. You sit at the end of the table, wanting to see the show and cringe — something to tell your best friend about later.

It’s Sukuna’s turn. He had just gotten back from his other job. He’s already exhausted, but he heard he’d be hosting a bachelorette party — and he knows how these married or engaged women are. So, he’s expecting big cash tonight.

He showers, throws on deodorant — no glitter, because he knows he’ll sweat later — slips on some jeans, and heads out to the front.

It’s not packed for a Friday, but it’s busy. He spots Toji and some of his friends entertaining a group of older women. He smirks at Toji, mainly because there’s an almost 60-year-old woman on his lap.

Sukuna walked out shirtless, his tattoos on full display as he made his way to the table.

He usually cosplayed as a gangster, a prisoner, or some other degenerate shit the customers requested.

Tonight was simple: jeans low on his hips, chest and abs out, tattoos gleaming under the red lights. Cool. Easy money.

“Hellooo, ladies,” he drawled, flashing that cocky smirk. “I hear one of you’s getting married?”

He was already scanning the table, trying to feel out the vibe — who was shy, who was drunk, who was about to spend the most money. He could flirt, dance, grind, or whisper filthy things in someone’s ear. Whatever the bride wanted — whatever got him paid.

He leaned forward toward one of the women sitting front and center, whispering something slick in her ear — asking for a song choice, or if she wanted a private dance.

The women were already giggling, dollar bills in hand, but then he looked toward the end of the table…and he could’ve died.

You were sitting there — equally frozen, equally horrified.

No. No, it couldn’t be you.

Sukuna stared at you like he’d just seen a ghost. Honestly, you might as well be one.

Because in that moment, as he felt a cold, unfamiliar hand slide across his abs — he suddenly became painfully aware of what he was doing.

He was stripping. He was actually selling himself to strange women for money. And you were watching.

You always had this effect on him.

Ten years ago. Back when he was still the most insufferable teenage menace imaginable. Even now, he cringes when he remembers how he used to act.

He had spent exactly one month with you — thirty days. You were the quiet nerd everyone in class picked on, especially the girl he was dating at the time. He broke up with her because of that. (Not because he was a saint — he wasn’t. He was the biggest bully himself. But he’d been looking for an excuse to dump her anyway.)

After that day — when he dumped his girlfriend in front of the whole class for picking on you — people left you alone. Even his ex. She was mad, yeah, but not stupid.

And for thirty days, it was like you and Sukuna were… stuck together. Realistically? He was the one who wouldn’t leave you alone.

Secretly, he thought you were cool. You didn’t talk nonstop like his ex or try to impress him — you just did your own thing. Quiet. Kinda mysterious. Actually… interesting to be around.

He hates to admit it — hates it — but you were his first love.

It’s so fucking stupid. He gets embarrassed just thinking about how fast he fell. But still — it was Sukuna. Of course he didn’t tell you.

Well… he kissed you. And then he ran.

One fateful day — one he swore he’d bury deep, deep down forever — it happened after the library. You had helped him with his homework, patiently explaining things while he pretended to care about the subject and not the way your mouth moved when you spoke.

That night, he walked you home. He wasn’t paying attention to anything but your lips. The whole walk back, all he could think about was how badly he needed to step up his shit if he ever wanted a chance with you.

Because yeah — he wanted you. But you were so far out of his league it was actually funny.

When you both reached your place, you stopped right at the door and turned to look at him. He’d been distracted the entire evening, but you hadn’t said much either. You were just… quietly waiting for him to say something.

“This is my place,” you said softly. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

You opened your door — but he panicked.

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into the narrow alley between the houses. And without thinking, without planning, without saying a single word, he kissed you.

Hard. Messy. Breath-stealing.

Like an idiot.

You didn’t pull away. That was the thing.

You didn’t slap him. You didn’t yell. You just froze, soft and still against him — and then, just when he was about to pull back and apologize or pretend it didn’t happen, your fingers gripped his shirt and you kissed him back.

It was quiet. Just your breath and his, the faint sound of a TV playing from a house nearby, and his heartbeat thundering like it was trying to climb out of his chest.

It didn’t last forever. Just long enough to ruin him.

When he pulled away, his hands were shaking. He didn’t know what to say. You looked up at him with wide, unreadable eyes and said his name like it meant something — like he meant something.

And what did he do?

He panicked.

He said, “I gotta go,” and ran. Like a dumbass. He ran the whole way home. Didn’t even look back.

That same night, with the adrenaline of a possessed man and a storm in his chest, he got into a fight.

And just like that — he got arrested.

And just like that — you and Sukuna never saw each other again.

Some part of him was almost relieved. What could he have given you anyway? What future could he offer you, besides one full of chaos and bruises?

He would’ve dragged you down. That much he knew. He knew his temper, his anger, the way it spiraled. He would’ve been an anchor around your neck, pulling you under while you were meant to rise.

You had a future. A real one. And he told himself — over and over — that you deserved better.

But another part of him couldn’t kiss anyone else again. Couldn’t even look at another woman the same way. Because his heart — that wild, raging, stupid heart — wasn’t in his chest anymore. It had been in your hands since that night in the dark alley. And he was almost sure he’d never get it back.

He snapped back to reality when he felt a slap on his back — one of his friends, another stripper, laughing as he passed by. Right. He needs to stop thinking.

Sukuna couldn't tell what you were thinking. You hadn’t said a word. You just sat there, frozen like him.

But you had changed.

You were dressed in a formal all-black suit, heels on, a drink in hand. You looked like you belonged somewhere expensive, somewhere powerful. You looked like you made it.

And yet, somehow, you still looked the same. Still... you.

He wanted to run. God, he wanted to run like he always does. Or maybe drop to his knees. Maybe both. Even back then, he was miles behind you in life. But now? Now, you weren’t even on the same planet.

He looked down at the soon-to-be bride in front of him, who was already waiting for the show. So he did what he was paid to do — he smirked, stepped closer, and started dancing.

And he stopped thinking.

------

The night ended at 4 in the morning.

You hadn’t said a single word since you saw Sukuna. It felt like your tongue was stuck to the back of your throat, your chest tight with something you couldn’t breathe through.

It had been so long.

The last you’d heard of him was that he’d gotten himself arrested. After that — silence. You didn’t know where he lived, if he was okay, who his family even was. You had tried to find him, God, you wanted to, but your life had fallen apart too.

Your parents were at war — the yelling, the pressure, the weight of their expectations. Not even a month after Sukuna disappeared, they signed the divorce papers. You didn’t get a single minute of peace between home, school, studying, and work. You were burning from all ends.

So for college, you ran. As far away as you could. You cut off contact with your family completely and vanished. You even changed your last name so no one could track you.

But even with the years and the distance, you still thought about that night in the alley.

You never imagined Sukuna liked you back — let alone would kiss you like that. But he did. And for a moment, you had never felt happier. And yet... you were devastated. Because he was gone.

And since then you never dated. You never let yourself get close. Not emotionally. Not physically. You hardened. You got colder. Sharper. More vicious when it came to men. No one had ever gotten past your walls since that kiss.

You slipped on your long coat, your hand dipping into your pocket to fish out your car keys. With practiced grace, you began walking through the near-empty lot.

The only sounds in the quiet night were the sharp click of your heels against pavement and the soft rustling of your coat and hair in the wind.

You had become everything you promised yourself you would be.

Money. Power. A beautiful home. A car that turned heads. Clothes and bags that made even the most put-together women jealous. You could have anyone — anyone. Even the CEO of your own company had tried to pursue you more than once.

But nothing worked.

You couldn’t even force yourself to like another man. Not when you’d never really let go of the first one. You reached your jeep, unlocking it with a soft beep, hand on the door handle — when you heard it.

Footsteps. Fast. Running. Coming toward you.

You turned, ready to defend yourself, the cold edge of instinct bracing you—But then—You saw him. Sukuna.

He was breathing hard. The baggy black shirt he wore was stained with what looked like old paint, the sleeves pushed up his forearms. Sweatpants hung low on his hips, and his heavy boots thudded against the pavement as he slowed in front of you.

You wanted to laugh.

There was a time he ran from you—Now he was running to you.

"Do you need something?"

That was the first thing you said to him. After ten full years. No softness, no warmth — just poised, sharp, distant. It echoed in the cold air between you like a slap.

And it hit him harder than you could ever know.

You hadn’t meant for it to sound that cold. Maybe a part of you did. He had protected you a little in high school, yes, and for that, maybe you should be thankful. But what was a few weeks of safety in a lifetime of silence? You owed him nothing anymore.

He stared at you.

And God—he looked different. Bigger, broader. Even taller. His once-wild pink hair was now buzzed close to his scalp, the lines of a new tattoo crawling up the side of his head. His eyes were the same, though. The same fire. The same guilt.

He took a step forward. Almost like he meant to hug you.

But you stepped back.

No.

You had missed him, yes. Sometimes. In quiet moments. In dreams. But what you missed might have only been a memory. A delusion. The soft ache of what could have been. Not him. Not the man standing in front of you now.

You are happy now. Not in the way stories tell you to be. You’re one of the rare people who believe you don’t need your "one great love" to be whole or truly know happiness. You built yourself from the ground up. You are at peace. Fulfilled.

And you’ll be damned if some ghost from ten years ago crashes back into your life just to unravel everything you fought for.

He opened his mouth again, slower this time. “Please… can I talk to you? Just for a moment...”

You didn’t say anything right away. Just stood there, the keys clenched in your hand, the wind tugging softly at your coat.

“…Fine,” you said at last, voice low but steady. “Talk.”

Sukuna looked relieved, like that one word gave him permission to breathe again. He rubbed the back of his neck, glanced away, then looked back at you. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quieter than you remembered.

“You look… different.” he muttered. You raised an eyebrow but said nothing. “That night... I kissed you, then ran like a damn coward. Then I got arrested. Spent years just messing things up, trying to fix them, messing them up again. You were the only thing I ever got right and I blew it.”

You felt something twist in your chest — but your face stayed unreadable.

"Do you like working here?" It was not the most appropriate question, especially not when he was spilling his guts to you like this.

"I don't have much choice."

"Do you have another job?" you asked, your voice steady. Were you that disappointed? He looked confused. "I do construction here and there…"

You fell silent for a while. Even Sukuna, the troublemaker, seemed unsettled now. There was something terrifying about the calm, quiet way you were processing this.

You stared down at your heels for a moment, thinking. "Alright, you can say no, but... I have a house. It's big, and there’s a garden I want to work on, but I’m too busy. I don’t have the time. Quit your job. You can stay with me, work on my garden and the garage, and I’ll pay you. I owe you from high school, so let me repay you this way. You can say no, though, I won’t force you."

Sukuna stood there, stunned. His brain couldn’t quite catch up to what you’d just offered. A house? A garden? You, offering him a place to stay and work? His pride fought back. It felt too good to be true.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, you don’t owe me anything. Not after everything I’ve done." He shook his head, still in disbelief. "But… this? I didn’t think you’d ever offer me something like this.”

You didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. "You don’t have to deserve it," you replied. "I’m offering because I want to. If you want to work, great. If not, I’ll understand. But I’ve got a lot of space, and I need help.

So… take it or leave it."

--------///----------///------------///---------///------------///-----------///

You woke up one day as one of the hundreds of maids and servants employed by the Kingdom of Thralkeld. Originally, you were just a regular waitress and college student, barely scraping by through a system of rarely paid rent and skipped meals. 

Being a broke student was fine, for a while. You found respite through a silly otome game; Sinner's Escape. A dark romance where the MC is a runaway princess from a savage kingdom who seeks refuge in Thralkeld. Your, or rather her, love interests included a poor baker, a knight, the king, and the king's butler. Ultimately, she would end up with the King on most routes, though you personally liked the butler for his calm and responsible demeanor. He held a sinister way of disposing of rivals that was calculated and silent. 

The others were far too messy. Especially the king, Alric, who was an obsessive man, constantly fawning over the MC with lavish gifts and a falsely immature personality. You hated how fake he was. How could a player possibly love a character that makes the MC fall for a fallacy? 

Behind all the cutesy acting and baby talking was a cunning and violent man. 

You lived your life as a maid rather conservatively, however; doing your chores, following orders, and then locking yourself in your shabby room until your shift would begin once again. 

You weren't quite sure when King Alric took notice of you. 

Perhaps it was when you were forced to bring him breakfast in bed when he was 'sick.' A ploy he mustered up to make the MC dote on him. She was here, staying in one of the rooms as an honorary guest - or rather as a very pretty stray he picked up. 

She sat atop his bed, playing with his blonde hair with a sweet smile on her face. His head in her lap, arms wrapped around her waist and piercing blue eyes holding a deceitfully pitiful look. 

"I've brought the master's breakfast, my lady." 

She thanked you politely, and you bowed, glaring at him in passing. 

Had he noticed? Probably. You hoped not. 

At another point, you had gotten in an argument with the infamous butler. 

"You can't just leave all your trash for us to pick up! It isn't fair." You shouted. 

The butler was rather spoiled, something you hadn't caught onto when playing the game. He was just leaving his garbage everywhere! And none of the maids could say anything for fear of retaliation. 

"Your tongue should match your status." 

"Your tongue should match your face. If you were handsome maybe I'd let you scold me, but you're ugly and mean and gross and totally uncool!" You were certain you'd get called a witch for your odd language and uncharacteristic yelling. Maybe even stoned, or at least fired. 

What you hadn't expected was a laugh to sound from behind you. 

The king, with all of his pearly white teeth, was actually laughing, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. When had you been employed into his staff? What a hilarious woman! 

Suddenly, you began noticing the king's presence every time you would utter a grievance (or a cruel opinion). Subconsciously, Alric found himself seeking out your theatrics. Passing by the kitchen, the maid's chambers, or even the back corner of the garden where the laundry is tended to became a habit whenever he needed a good laugh. 

You are rather honest about everything; something he is simply no good at. 

King Alric began requesting your presence for afternoon tea. Your speech and unfiltered conversations were a relief to him, who was so used to pleasantries. He could speak as degenerately as he wished to, and you would simply respond as normal without judgement, unless you wanted to be judgmental. 

Ahh, how wonderful it is to speak with someone who doesn't fear my status. 

"You hate that butler of mine, don't you?" He chuckled, offering you a cup.

You shook your head and politely declined the cup. "I don't hate him. He's just a jerk." 

"Yes, sometimes I wish I could just snap his neck." King Alric closed his eyes, as if truly pondering the scenario. "He speaks far too plainly with my possessions." 

You raised a brow, but spoke anyway. "I wouldn't snap his neck, personally. But one good punch to his face would def set that guy straight." 

"Def," he smiled, "You have such an interesting manner of speaking." 

The MC was gone soon after. You weren't quite sure where she had gone. You were certain she would have followed the king's route, though you supposed she may have been mingling with the others and finally made a different choice. 

Another argument had ensued between the butler and you, this time sparked up by him. 

"You are seducing the king, you filthy rat." He accused, a pointed finger hitting your chest. 

You could only stare in confusion, smacking at his hand and stepping back. 

"The fuck are you talking about?" 

"How could he have possibly fallen for such a foul-mouthed cretin, when that beauty was right at his fingertips." He muttered the last part, almost inaudibly, though you caught it. 

Before you could respond, King Alric's arm slunk around your waist, pulling you into his chest in a warm embrace. You noticed a light smell of vanilla. 

"Are you bothering my favorite maid?" 

You couldn't see his expression, but judging by the one on the butler's, you were certain it couldn't have been good. 

And that was when it hit you; if the MC was no longer his love interest, did that mean he could choose someone else? Was it possible? 

You shuffled out of his arms, a nervous smile painting your lips. "Haha... I'm just gonna... Get back to work." 

The next time you saw him was only a week later, the king's boisterous voice booming as he entered the crowded kitchen. You were boiling ginger when he pulled you against his chest once again, barking at the other maids and cooks to leave. 

The smell of vanilla was gone and replaced with something more metallic, but you couldn't exactly prove it. 

"I have good news, little princess."

You gasped, turning around and pushing him away - which was futile. "Princess? That could get me executed!" 

He sighed. "Since when did you care about how we talk?"

"Since you started giving me nicknames like little princess." 

King Alric dropped his head atop your shoulder. "Well, I have good news, little princess." You grumbled, but let him speak anyway. "It seems my butler has resigned. And I'd like to give his position to you, as my personal maid." You could feel his smile against your ear.

"What? Your personal maid?" You shook involuntarily, gripping at his shirt. Butler positions are for life, no intelligent man would resign such a permanent and high-class job. In the game, the butler was so loyal, he was willing to share the MC with the King if it meant staying under his employment. 

A particular route suddenly came to mind. It was one of the rarer endings, a bad one where the king goes berserk and kills quite literally everyone. 

That was the one and only game ending in which the butler was no longer at Alric's side. 

"He's dead," you whispered, eyes widening with realization.

You hadn't meant to speak your thoughts aloud, truly you hadn't. But the moment came so suddenly. 

Sure, you hated the butler as you had grown to know him, but ultimately, he was your favorite character. He was a pious little shit whose arguing became a steady comfort within the chaos of a new life. 

Before you knew it, tears were brimming against your face, trailing down and wetting his shirt as you clung to him. 

"Shhh." King Alric whispered, holding you tighter. "How'd you know I killed him?" He slowly began trailing kisses against your neck, ending at your jaw with a wet tongue snaking its way across. "You always suspected me, huh? I noticed it. When we first locked eyes."

You mustered a little huh.

"You looked at me with such reverence. As if you knew I was faking for her affection." 

A large hand clasped at your chin, forcing you to look up at King Alric with big, worried eyes. "What happened to her?"

His eyes darkened, his lids lowering as if entranced by your beauty despite his sinister anger. His thumb and pointer finger squeezed harder at your cheek. 

"She and my butler are spending time together. Peacefully." 

Ducking down, King Alric connected your lips, shoving his tongue into your mouth and exploring the wetness. He lowered his hand to your neck, never squeezing, only resting. If you resisted, you wondered if he would do it. 

You didn't want to find out. 

The plushness of your skin against his fingertips sent Alric reeling, a dizzying hotness spreading to his groin and flaring his skin with goosebumps. 

"You're the only one," he muttered in between breaths. "The only one who accepts me - the real me." 

"H-Hold on, Alric. You can't just-" 

The words were shaken out of you when two large hands pushed you back. King Alric was in a frenzy, and the tight squeeze on your shoulders forced a yelp to escape your lips. 

He was shocked.

"My name." Alric's voice was barely above a whisper. 

Despite the absurd situation, you found yourself laughing, an exasperation present that worked up your confidence. "Yeah, your name." 

There was a silence, and all you could do was scrutinize his now unrefined attire until your eyes landed on the growing tent in his pants. It looked almost painful, and a strange pooling in your stomach brought you back to reality. 

"You're not real," you mustered out. "This is a game. It's all pixels. You don't exist, the butler isn't dead, and I'm definitely not about to..." 

Your voice trailed off, the king's head cocking to the side in confusion. 

"I'm not real?" 

"You're not."

"Have you gone mad?" 

"Maybe." 

Alric smirked, encasing your hand beneath his, fingers guiding yours to the swell of his trousers. The softness of the fabric and stiffened bulge a clear indication of his desperate need. 

"Is this not real?" You almost heard a whine in his voice when he asked this of you. 

Your silence was deafening, and as the spoiled brat he is; took it as a confirmation to continue. 

"Turn around." His voice was commanding, authoritative in the way you would expect of a true king. Alric spun you on your heels, pushing your maid's skirt up to situate himself behind you. His hand rubbed smooth circles against your ass cheeks and love handles. "Why don't you feel how real I am?" He whispered into your ear, nibbling at the tip before biting down. 

Alric fumbled with releasing his dick, the appendage slapping at your thigh and the precum dribbling down your leg. 

When you felt the tip go near the crevice of your thighs, you squealed but protested. "Not inside! Anything but inside." 

Alric used his free hand to turn your face to look back at him, a thumb pressed into your bottom lip and cooing. "Anything for my little princess." 

Your maniacal king honored his word, shoving his length between your legs instead of inside your aching pussy. 

Slowly, he moved forward and backward, simply relishing in the feeling of your plush thighs rubbing against his dick oh so perfectly. 

"God, you're amazing."

"You're doing so good for me." 

"Juuust like that, princess." 

The feeling of your clit rubbing against his shaft was nothing short of euphoric, sweet moans the only audible sound from you as you gorged yourself on the king's cock. 

You hiked the front of your skirt over your forearms, a nimble hand reaching for Alric's tip and rubbing small circles. 

Alric's head fell back, his grip on you tightening. "If you do that, I'll..." Your body began moving in sync with his, allowing yourself the stimulation he provided. 

His speed increased; what was once long, dragged out movements became desperate bucks, short and quick and ever so pleasurable. 

"I'm cumming, princess." Alric pressed his front into your backside, his large chest engulfing your frame as he chased his high, you not far behind him. 

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck..."

The milky white substance leaked from his tip, covering your hands and the inside of your maid's skirt. He continued, however, allowing you to feel the building pressure and release. The sounds of your perfect moans swallowed him whole. 

And you were worried; because the feeling of his warm cum coating your hands and legs made you want to know what it would feel like inside of you. 

"He won't stop no matter how much gold and resources we promised him! Open your eyes, Minister! It's not like he spared any of the cities he rode through during his conquest! They don't call him the "cruel tyrant" for nothing!"

Many men shouted angrily around the large table, making their panic and frustration known as they discussed how to stop the tyrannical approach of the new emperor who reigned over even his own vassal state. From small ministers to military captains, no one knew what to do, and the pressure threatened to overcome all of them. The crown on your head still felt as heavy as the first time they forced you to wear it—unfamiliar, not right. They called you their Queen, yet you didn't feel royal at all.

Because you weren't, you were an imposter.

For all you knew, you had taken over some noble's body while they were attacked by the emperor's forces. That noble turned out to be of quite a high standing, putting you into this awful position of ruling a queendom. No matter how much you asked for information from the people around you, they'd give you weird looks, expecting you to know the answers to your own questions. Still, you couldn't exactly tell them you weren't that person either, not knowing what they'd do with you if that were to happen.

And it was all that stupid game's fault.

You had no idea how this could have possibly happened. "Isekai" was only ever a concept you had seen in stories and games. But when you sat in front of a mirror for the first time, you immediately remembered the face that looked back at you—the character you had created. The disconnect to your body was severe and real; no matter how much you rubbed your face and grimaced at your reflection (the maid giving you apprehensive glances), you had to eventually accept that this body was who you were. Things still didn't make sense, but you tried your best in the new role, although it never felt right.

"If only someone had killed the emperor when they had the chance," one of the ministers noted with a dramatic sigh. All eyes fell on you for just a short moment, making you cower. You couldn't have known! That's what you kept telling yourself. He technically told you he was your enemy, but how would you have known that without playing the game? But you doubted you could have really killed the black knight—the emperor—even if someone had told you that he was your mortal enemy. Even if your body was that of the monarch under attack by the emperor, you didn't have a sword and much less the will to kill someone.

However, your hesitation made you look incapable in everyone else's eyes.

Now, you didn't just have to deal with the upcoming attack—your head still throbbing from the gash whenever you thought about the war—you were also scrutinized by everyone for failing to protect them from the emperor's advances. It was a lot to handle for someone so wholly underprepared as you were. This wasn't your life, but for them, it was all they had ever known.

The door being suddenly thrown open saved you from yet again explaining why you didn't kill the emperor when you had the chance. Why you let him live despite "knowing" who he was. All eyes fell on the butler standing in the doorway, panting heavily, holding up a letter and fanning it in the air with urgency.

"Your Highness!" he yelled through despite the lack of hair. "A letter arrived! A letter from... from... the emperor!"

Gasps went through the rows of people as the one closest to the door jumped up, ripping the letter from the butler and opening it. Some ministers gave each other worried looks, and some stretched their heads towards the one reading the letter as if to see better.

Suddenly, the minister rejoiced, laughing out loudly, and you were uncertain if that was a good or bad sign. He did sound indignant, but at the same time, he seemed to have just solved all the worries in the world.

"An alliance! The emperor wants a marriage alliance with us!"

People sprung from their seats as they cheered, although some of the older ones sent worried glances towards you. "The war is over!" someone yelled, and more of them fell into a chant as they danced around the table. But could it really be that easy?

"Uhm, I'm sorry?" you called out, gathering the attention of those still seated. "The emperor wants to marry who?"

Now, all the eyes were back on you as the cheers died down. The letter was passed towards you, the oldest, wisest minister at your right looking it over, adjusting his monocle to read it properly. Sputtering a little, he lowered the paper again, leaning forward and reaching for your hand, cupping it gently, encouragingly. Yet, you didn't feel comforted at all.

"That would be you, your Highness."

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Still as the dead, you stood in the forest clearing, waiting. Everyone around you was tense as they waited for the emperor's delegation. But you were long past nervosity. Between the letter and the arranged date to hand you over to the emperor's delegation were months of tears and training.

You tried to revolt and make the people understand that you couldn't possibly marry him! But it all fell on deaf ears when you screamed and raged. Rumors had reached you of how he had killed potential spouses for less. How this was all a facade and how the emperor would still ruthlessly conquer the land that had made you its ruler and then kill you to mock them on top of it. And you had shed many, many tears pleading for your life. Almost everyone had cried with you, chastizing you while their own hearts broke, taking pity on you, and comforting you.

But to these people, you were the only hope they had.

Perhaps you would have conducted yourself more gracefully if you had been their real queen. Accepting your fate and enduring the strict training needed to ensure you were perfect for the emperor. When you asked them to stop pleadingly, they would. But after a brief rest, you were forced to train again, your muscle memory of very little help when all the etiquette wasn't good enough for the empire's standards. It was while you were training that you finally understood something.

Every choice had consequences.

The game had warned you before starting and freezing on you. If you acted up, threw tantrums, raged, and went against what the people wanted, you got nowhere. But instead, if you sympathized with them, asked nicely, and conducted yourself well, you got everything you wanted. Giving them what they desired always ended in you getting your will. All points in charm, right?

So, if you wanted to survive, then you had to find out what the emperor desired. Quickly.

All of your senses were in survival mode, making you seem graceful and dignified while you waited, going through countless scenarios in your head. If he wanted money, you'd tell him how to construct something lucrative from your world. If he wished to reign the world, you'd offer him to conduct peace treaties in his name, having to charm more people so they'd agree. You had devised a solution to almost every problem when birds flew out of the trees, alerted by the incoming caravan.

On your way to the empire, you'd listen intently to the delegate to be prepared. Everything would be fine. You could do it. All points in charm would help you! You had trained yourself for this and made sure you were more aware of people. Everything would be fine!

But you didn't expect to see the black armor that haunted your dreams to lead the delegation, the emperor himself arriving before you the moment his horse stepped out into the clearing.

You drew in your breath sharply before bowing deeply as his horse came to a halt in front of you while your heart raced. The clattering of armor took you back to the war, your body wincing with trauma. You weren't prepared for this, his heavy footsteps shaking your resolve as they approached. Some maids gasped in horror, the soldiers on your side readying their weapons to defend you.

How could they? Everyone knew what he was capable of!

But they loved you too much to not defend you with their life if they had to. So you remained low—for their sake, too. Until a hand reached beneath your chin, cold metal clinging to your skin as your head was lifted, forcing you to face your worst fear.

With you standing straight again, he still towered above you, much like when you met him on the battlefield. His touch lingered as he reached around his head with his free hand, pulling off his helmet. His looks hadn't been much of a surprise as the emperor had sent you his painting along with countless presents once the deal was made. But still. He was devilishly handsome for such a cruel man, with hair as black as his armor and eyes as red as only the fiend could have.

"There you are," he murmured, only meant for your ears. "I've been waiting for this."

"So have I," you replied quickly, not wanting to disgruntle him at the first meeting despite your voice wavering with fear. It wasn't the ideal situation—perhaps there never would be one—but your plan was still solid: find out what he desired and force him to keep you alive to get it.

His gaze shifted from one of your eyes to the other, searching for a lie. But it wasn't. Ever since you realized you couldn't change the fate that was to befall you, only sweeten it, you had waited for the day you'd meet him.

Pleased with his findings, or the lack thereof, his lips cracked into a wide grin, befitting of the cruel tyrant as it paired well with the glint in his eyes to reveal only madness. So far, it had gone well, but you couldn't count on his mood appearing to be favorable. He was as unpredictable as his strategies on the battlefield; that much you had learned already about him. To further fall into his good graces was all you could do.

"I was surprised about your proposal," you spoke calmly, putting some of those charms to work. Reaching up, you pulled the emperor's hand from your chin, instead cupping his palm over your cheek and holding it there. The emperor watched every one of your moves with curious interest, probably expecting you to try and kill him at any given time as well. Almost, you two were alike like this.

"I didn't expect you to want--"

"You."

You forced a grin, chuckling curtly, and his expression sank slightly. "Yes, me. Why me? Why not someone from the empire or the other states? What could you want with little ol' me?"

Lips curled back even more, showing off teeth that seemed almost predatorily sharp before the emperor suddenly burst into laughter, doubling over while still holding your face in his palm. The soldiers around you two were completely taken aback at the emperor's sudden outburst, inching closer while some backed away in fear. He regained his composure quickly, though, bringing his other hand up to cup your face fully now between them as he chuckled, inspecting your face thoroughly.

"You have such a refreshing way of speaking, my dear. Unlike any other noble I've ever met. And I could just eat you up for it." His thumb loosened from the side of his hand, rubbing over your cheeks gently. The metal left a cold smear on your skin, but you forced yourself not to react to it, holding his gaze firmly while you feared that looking away could be your death sentence.

"But that was not the reason," he clarified, and you gave him a small nod, indicating that it was fine with you. "It was what you said on the battlefield. That you didn't want me to die. Me. Do you know how many of our peers disagree on that? Do you know how many I have beheaded for less than wishing for my death?"

"I do not."

He stared at you with this maddening smile on his lips before the emperor's expression suddenly softened, his thumb returning to caress your cheek. "Good," he sighed, sounding almost relieved. "I don't want to scare you. Very well then."

Letting his hands fall from your face, you still didn't feel like grasping the situation completely, but you didn't hold on to him, watching instead as he hiked up his pants, adjusting the armor over his legs before taking a knee in front of you. Everyone—including his side of soldiers—gasped, but the emperor paid them no mind. The boon of the strongest must have been that no matter what he did, he couldn't care less about the opinions of others, and he made it very clear, asking silently for your hand by presenting his own.

There was no reason to refuse him, so you placed yours into his palm, letting it linger as he reached upwards, pushing back the sleeve on your arm. His grip tightened as the bruises you had suffered from your training were exposed, face falling as he looked at the damaged goods that you felt like. Panic rose as you feared his anger, and you quickly reached over to push down the fabric again when his eyes fell from the wounds to yours, overpowering you and pushing the sleeve out of the way.

"I promise to take you as my spouse," he announced solemnly, leaning down to kiss the back of your head.

"To love and honor you, as will you, me," his lips wandered upwards as he muttered the words, kissing the small specks of bruises littering your arm.

"Not to hurt or trouble you," he looked up, lips curling into a cheeky grin as he lightly bit your arm, making you gasp before adding much more quietly, "Unless you like it."

"And protect you until my dying breath."

Finalizing his oath, the emperor quickly got up again, smiling at you like a child on Christmas. You had no idea what kind of awkwardness lay in your own expression, but when he offered his arm, proceeding with the handover, you barely hesitated to link yours with his. As if this new life wasn't surreal enough, you didn't understand his character at all. Was he a terrible tyrant or a kind husband in the making? Mad or simply living up to what people expected of him? Searching for comfort in you or planning something devious and evil?

But before you could ponder these thoughts, you heard a sudden commotion behind your back, making you look back only to see one of your soldiers break out of the protective formation and charge toward your new husband with a dagger raised.

"Die, you monster!" he yelled, aiming for the emperor's back. However, your husband twisted around without letting your arm fall, catching the dagger in his free hand. "Careful," he grumbled. "You could hurt my wife with that."

With a strong yank that you only saw, not felt, the emperor discarded the dagger, his soldiers crowding in and grabbing your knight, kicking his knee until he was doubled over. With an appalled gasp, you detached from your husband's arm, but he caught your hand, pressing his palm to yours and linking your fingers forcefully, every one of his movements deliberate, yet no less oppressing, as if to make a point.

"Tell me what to do with the traitor, my Love," your husband asked, eerily asking for your opinion. You gulped, the life of the knight weighing heavy on your mind like the crown. Looking at the emperor, he was waiting patiently for your decision, but you knew he had no intentions of letting this knight live, and you gulped. You had to survive. You had to put yourself first, even if it hurt.

"I don't want any more bloodshed. It makes me feel terrible," you whispered, looking away in defeat. "But I understand if its what you have to do."

All you had was your charm. You could have pleaded for the knight's life, but if it wasn't what the emperor wanted, you wouldn't convince him and risk your own. The words left you with a heavy heart, but it was the best you could do for yourself. You had to save yourself if you wanted to make any change—and that was hard enough.

"Very well, then," the emperor announced suddenly, turning away from the knight that attacked him, instead wrapping your arm around his again. Confused, you looked back as your husband moved onwards towards the carriage, glimpsing the same confusion in the eyes of the other soldiers.

"You're not going to kill him?" you asked as the emperor signaled for a servant to open the door to the carriage, making sure you had a steady hold on him as he led you into the inside.

"No. You said it makes you unwell. I don't want that."

"But... why?" you asked, feeling a little stupid as you took a seat in the luxurious carriage, much better than the one your state had provided for you to travel to this spot. "Isn't that what you want?"

"Again, you ask about what I want. Is that all you care about?"

You gulped, feeling busted as you watched him climb inside right behind you, his armor making it hard to move, but he managed just fine. Still, his question felt genuine and less like he expected something, so you decided to play dumb.

"Is it not the most important thing for your wife to know?" you mumbled, the subservience in your own question almost making you gag. It was hard to throw away your values, even if, in the age of this game's setting, you had to play along unless you had the strength to rise above.

The moment he sat down, the carriage began to move, your body losing its strength at the unexpected movement. However, sturdy arms caught you, helping you to sit upright again and find the emperor's gaze on you, his expression briefly worried before it grew serious. It felt like you messed up big time, and that so shortly after meeting him, too.

But then the seriousness cracked away again as he smiled, shaking his head softly. "Ridiculous," he mumbled, his eyes flitting up to meet yours again after taking a deep breath. "I just can't be mad at you, no matter how stupid your questions are. Aren't you glad you are such a charmer?"

Yes. Very glad. Very, very glad. At least at that moment.

"Then I will say it once more," he announced. "Make sure to not forget it, as I won't repeat myself a third time."

With comical playfulness, he poked your forehead, making you scrunch up your face, and he laughed at your expression in return.

"When we were on the battlefield, and you told me you didn't want me to die, I realized I couldn't. You may have been simply pitying me or trying to be nice in my last moments, but my body was overcome with vigor as if you had commanded it not to die. That's how sincere your words felt."

He leaned back, but his eyes never left you, even as he took a break from talking to seize you up. You had an inkling that without knowing about your skills yet, all points in charms must have worked back then, too.

"Almost like you put a curse on me..." he added, eyes narrowing as he thought. Gripping your thighs, you realized that, technically, this wasn't good news. Technically, you had caused this mess. All choices had consequences, and you made one without realizing it by telling him not to die.

"You are the only one who wishes for me to live, so I knew you were the only one who could stand by me. And now look what you make of me, no more wars, no bloodshed, just as you demand. Do you know what that means now?"

"That you... want to settle down?" you mumbled, half joking, half unable to think of a better response.

"No." Again, he tapped you on the forehead, and you got a feeling it was his way of reprimanding you.

"I will do as I said, protect you, love you, honor you. As long as you are with me, I will be good. I can't promise to be peaceful all the time, but at least in front of you, I'll keep my vows, and I assume you, too, bear responsibility for taking everything I want from me and replacing it with what you want. Our encounter must have been fate, as nothing could shake me until you came along. So tell me, and I hope you took note, what do I want?"

Silence fell over you two as you tried to work through all the information you had acquired. He'd stop waging war? Would stop the bloodshed? Just because you wanted him to live and he wants to honor his vows in return? This could never undo the harm you knew he had already caused to so many, but it had the potential to better the future.

"You want..." you mumbled, thinking about what it could be. It felt as if it was on the tip of your tongue, but no matter what scenario you recalled playing through in your head, you couldn't find one that fit. No money, no territory, just something he claimed he already told you.

Your eyes widened as you realized it, and the cruel emperor's grin widened madly in response.

"Correct," he murmured, leaning forward until his lips were brushing against yours, his palm returning to cradle your cheek.

The sea waited for you for centuries. Patient. Longing. Tearful.

No soul had been born who could tame its ferocity. The times were divine, rushing to shore without coinciding with him could be a catastrophe. So it forced itself to endure. To tolerate the pain. To tolerate the desire to see him again.

It remained hidden under the wing of a specific family, protected by them on a remote island in Grand Line, for centuries without being disturbed. They passed the word down from parents to children, grandparents to grandchildren. That devil fruit, kept in a locked chest, with its peculiar conch shell shape that glowed in shades of blue and light blue, was not to be consumed.

The fruit would choose its bearer. Like no other, it would sing to attract whoever it desired, until it made them carry an unknown destiny. Anyone who coveted it wrongly would be punished.

And everyone learned to respect it.

You had always been curious. Why was your family the only one who knew about its existence and could take care of it, when there were so many others on the island? Why couldn't anyone else even get close enough to appreciate it? What was known about that devil fruit was passed on by word of mouth. Your aunt had told you about its appearance during a festival in the village, while dancing with laughter, one jump after another, to the rhythm of "don, don, don, don", but she didn't know if it was real either. Someone else had told her about it.

Your grandmother wouldn't let anyone near the old temple on the highest hill on the island. The task of caring for it was relegated to a few women in the family, those who had the gift of hearing. Hearing what? You thought it was nonsense. How could anyone hear a fruit? As a child, you couldn't make sense of it.

But curiosity kept you awake.

And you understood everything at the age of seven.

A festival to an ancient god was being celebrated in the village. Sitting on a bench —a tree trunk cut down by your father—, you admired those present. There it was again. That rhythm. That dance. It was fun, it was playful, it was free. The huge smiles on their faces were something that only that dance could give.

The dance of Nika.

They did it once a month, as if trying to call him, intending him to join in the fun if he saw them, and something inside you told you that this god would do just that. He would join them with a huge laugh. And the party would never end.

But what was happening here was more than just a party. It was a plea. The people of your village and your family believed that he would return to save them. And someone important would come with him.

You shook your head from side to side, playing with the fabric of your white dress when you heard it.

A melancholic voice sang melodies that pressed on your heart. You were too young to understand the longing behind that song, the pain of loss. Its slowness differed from the joy in Nika's rhythm.

You covered your ears, not wanting to hear any more. But it was calling you. It was making you get up from your seat against your will.

Under the watchful gaze of your grandmother, whom you could not see through the sea of people, you made your way towards the forest. The old woman heard the crying in that song, more intense than ever. It was different from what it always whispered to her. Now it was crying out for you.

You followed the path with a grimace. It was lit by small golden lanterns shaped like flowers. Despite your fear of being scolded for entering the forbidden area, you couldn't help but follow that voice. Its broken song gradually changed, becoming a little more cheerful. Enough so as not to break your heart. You wondered if this is what the song of the sirens sounded like, the ones you read about in your book, the ones who lived on gyojin island.

You stopped in front of the temple. How many minutes had it taken you to climb the hill? You had lost track of time while enveloped in those melodies.

Seeing it up close took your breath away. Tall marble pillars surrounded by ivy stood before you. A glass dome revealed the interior of the place, making your blood run cold.

A golden statue of a woman stood in the middle, surrounded by water. Would you sink if you approached it? Or would it be shallow, free to walk towards it? That woman looked up at the sky with her back to you, her arms outstretched, her fingers curved as if touching something.

Was she singing? Could a statue sing? Or was it...? You searched with your eyes until you found it. A chest rested at her feet, surrounded by vines. As if it had never been touched before.

But something in that voice asked you to. Something in that woman's position begged you for something.

You dipped your tiny feet into the water and a sigh of relief escaped from within you when the water only reached your hips. For an adult, it would reach their knees or lower.

You walked across the slimy ground covered in seaweed, pouting in disgust. Your grandmother protected this place, but it seemed she didn't clean it, given its condition.

The singing grew softer as you got closer. The moonlight made the statue look more beautiful, but its golden colour would shine brighter in the sun.

When you reached its feet, which were in front of your face, you raised your hands to the vines, pulling them off one by one. The chest, once freed, looked old. Conveniently, a key lay beside it. You shook your head in confusion. No one had stolen it in centuries, and you had made it there without anyone stopping you. What were they afraid of? It was silly to fear a fruit. Surely it had some foolish power, like the men on the reward posters that arrived every week. There were a few incredible powers, but there were also fruits that seemed bad to you.

You inserted the key into the lock, opening the chest carefully so as not to break it. You widened your eyes in amazement when you saw it. It shone in shades of blue and light blue, shaped like a seashell. So this was what the devil's fruit looked like. You took it in your hands, not knowing that you were being allowed to do so. Not knowing that your destiny was being forged.

Standing by the island's beach, with the celebration behind her, your grandmother smiled softly. The clock was ticking again.

He had already been born and consumed his fruit, and he had chosen you at the same time to accompany him.

With the sudden violence of the sea that night, the people dancing merrily and a little girl spitting in a temple alone, the old woman welcomed the goddess of the sea.

The "Hito Hito no Mi, model: Naia" had chosen its bearer.

Your growth since that night had been quite an adventure. Your grandmother had told you things, like the name of the fruit and where it came from. The reason why your family had protected it for generations and generations finally had an answer. You were direct descendants of Naia, but the goddess was jealous and refused to choose a woman before the time. You didn't know who she was waiting for, and the old woman didn't have a concrete answer. Only old beliefs that had been instilled in her, which she couldn't vouch for as being true.

But if you were there, in front of her, surrounded by fish that seemed to be talking to you, then there was a chance that he was also in another sea.

The longer you lived in the village, the more miracles happened. The famine ceased with the increasing abundance of fish. Your unconscious attracted large fish and beasts from the Grand Line, which were hunted to feed the villagers. They ate through tears, thanking the sun god for his help, without knowing who was really responsible.

Ships began to stop there. After four years, your voice began to attract sailors, bounty hunters, and pirates. With their visits, the families around you were able to support themselves. The imminent improvement in the standard of living among these villagers caught the attention of the world government. An island was rising and should not remain outside their hands, living according to their laws. Abiding by the rules was the best they could do.

However, no one could accept it. The hatred in their hearts consumed them alive. These people were not the kind who wanted to be protected by the marine or receive the light of the world government by paying tribute. No. These people had their beliefs, beliefs that those above despised. Beliefs for which they would seek to silence them.

Your grandmother knew that your devil fruit would bring trouble. If the legends were true, the search for your existence would be relentless.

A woman with the ability to control the sea was an aberration to everyone who admired her. A forbidden existence hidden like a myth.

But myths had an origin and, in turn, someone who tried to destroy them.

As a very young girl, you had no control over the sea. The strong emotions he was unaccustomed to sent him into a frenzy. Your cries stirred up hurricanes, impossible to stop until your heart was calm again. Your anger violently shook the waves, your sudden outbursts calling forth tsunamis.

Their frequency was not something that the world government —who kept their eyes on the island that was suddenly making a name for itself— could ignore. Marines disguised as sailors or ordinary tourists came and went, reporting what they saw. Was that island changing its magnetic field? After centuries of maintaining the same one? Or was something beyond their control happening?

It was after a huge earthquake and a subsequent tsunami, one that was out of the ordinary, with waves so big that they flooded the coast and left the island without a port, that your grandmother made the decision to expel you. CP0 began prowling the area when you were seventeen. They walked around looking at all the women, with instructions to pay special attention to the youngest ones.

Any who showed abnormalities. Any who seemed to interact unnaturally with the sea. Any who talked to fish.

The one who could be the woman the five elders wanted desperately.

Your grandmother, your aunt, and your mother did everything in their power. Sooner or later, those government agents would find the temple to the goddess Naia, confirming the suspicions of the celestial dragons. That temple, that golden statue facing the sun, was the only one in the world.

Those who knew her believed she had died, leaving no trace of her passage through life, a woman who would never set foot in such a rotten place again. But there she was, laughing in their faces, always hidden, always waiting for the right moment to return.

The three women in your family knew that news of such magnitude would not sit well. Everyone was in danger, not just you. And they were willing to face them as long as they could be reunited.

Your mother pulled you by the hand, all of them covering their mouths to stifle their tired gasps. The forest was the village's domain, illuminated in every corner, trees marked to indicate the paths back home. Your aunt carried a bag of clothes and your grandmother led the way.

They came upon a flooded coastline. Four villagers were holding onto tree trunks, pulling on ropes tied to the boat to keep it steady. They had placed two barrels of provisions inside. You looked at everyone in alarm, not knowing what to say, not wanting to leave.

This island was your home. Everyone had watched you grow up. Why did you have to leave everything behind? Just because of an ancient legend that no one knew was real?

The old woman placed her hands on your cheeks after your aunt had wrapped the bag around your body.

"You must flee, child." She whispered.

You shook your head, frightened. Yes, your devil fruit seemed to control the sea, but you had never sailed. You had never gone out into the world. And you would not be going out onto a calm sea. You lived in Grand Line, and out there were fearsome pirates, the yonko sailed those waters.

"It's for your own good. And for the good of the world." She tucked your hair behind your ear with trembling hands. "One day you'll understand."

"I don't want to go." You whispered, looking at your mother pleadingly.

"It is Naia's will." Your grandmother called your attention again. "You, Y/N, must continue living."

Naia, that mythical goddess again. What did it matter if you were her chosen one for something you couldn't understand?

"Lie. Don't talk about your devil fruit. Don't reveal it to anyone. That way you can survive." Your mother's words squeezed your heart.

"Don't worry about us, we'll be fine." Your aunt said with a smile.

"Destiny will bring the two of you together." Murmured the older woman.

Her kisses on your forehead, the calm sea as the villagers lifted you onto the boat, their hands waving in the distance, your uncontrollable crying.

You didn't know how long you had cried as the small boat sailed on its own course. The sea remained calm around you as it carried you as far away as possible from your native island. An island where government agents searched relentlessly for a young woman who fit the description, interrogating and silently murdering those who refused to cooperate.

At some point, your eyes closed after crying for so long, each tear altering the sea around your island, unknowingly embracing the lifeless bodies of many girls you called your friends, as well as those of adults and elderly women. Among them, your family.

All protecting a goddess who would help a new dawn arrive.

Usopp prepared his bait, ready to catch something. They hadn't put anything in the aquarium for days. Luffy had put another shark in, and it had eaten all the fish, leaving them without provisions, without meat. Their captain was more unbearable than ever, and he had only gone a day and a half without eating meat.

He cast his line, humming his song as he tapped his feet. The sun burned his skin, and the sea seemed particularly calm that day. Would he catch anything if no fish came near the worms he had stolen from Robin's garden?

Zoro left his weight on the ground, opening the window of the crow's nest.

"Oi, there's something shining in the water." He announced.

Usopp raised his fishing rod, looking for his binoculars. Nami and Robin put down their magazines and books and stood up.

"Something shiny? Treasure?" Nami asked, smiling.

"I want to see!" Luffy shouted, opening the kitchen door. His rubber arms stretched out to the deck railing, throwing himself towards it to get there faster.

Robin smiled as she watched him jump up and down excitedly. Soon the others arrived, crowding around the railing. Chopper was lifted up by Zoro, who sat him on his shoulder so he could see better. Sanji stood next to them, smoking.

"We have to catch it!" Said Luffy.

"Oi, Luffy, wait." Usopp murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder. "First we need to see what it is from a distance."

"We can always throw it back into the sea." Added Robin.

"You're so scary!" Shouted Usopp.

"Luffy, bring that shiny thing over here." Ordered Nami to the rubber boy, looking excitedly at the glint in the distance.

The captain's arms stretched out as far as they could, pulling the small boat towards the Sunny Go at a speed that the sea offered no resistance to. Refusing to protect her from him.

"I see barrels!" Chopper shouted.

"Super!" Franky celebrated.

"Will they have food? I hope it's in good condition." Said Sanji.

"I hope it's treasure..." Nami said dreamily, clasping her hands together with a huge smile.

"I hope it doesn't kill us." Usopp lamented, thinking it was a trap.

"We can always throw it back into the sea." Robin repeated.

Luffy blinked, tilting his head to one side. Inside the boat was a girl, sleeping as if she weren't in the Grand Line. He pressed his lips together when he noticed the trail of tears on her cheeks. Her eyelashes were still wet, as if she had never stopped crying, even in her dreams.

"Chopper, we have to help her."

The seriousness in his tone alerted the crew. They looked closely, the sun no longer dazzling their eyes, revealing the figure trembling as she hugged a bag.

"We have to get her on board!" The crew's doctor ran to Franky after Zoro brought him down.

They all worked together without asking any questions yet.

There was a girl in their infirmary. A girl who had suddenly appeared amid those treacherous waters, sleeping as if she didn't care about the danger of her actions. A girl who was burning with fever while the little reindeer placed damp cloths on her forehead.

Sanji made tea for everyone while they waited for news from the doctor, curious about her identity.

"I checked her belongings. There was nothing with her name on it. Just clothes and food." Robin commented.

Nami tucked a strand of her short hair behind her ear and sighed.

"All we can do is wait for her to wake up."

"How did she survive?" Murmured Zoro, leaning against the kitchen wall with his arms crossed.

"It's a mystery. Falling asleep in Grand Line with all the pirates around who could have killed her..." Robin shook her head.

"Lucky we found her." Nami acknowledged.

Sanji was holding back, but the soft smile on his face and the multiple turns he made while serving tea told everyone how happy he was with the presence of another woman in the crew. The swordsman insulted him under his breath, earning himself a kick, and then starting a fight.

Everyone ignored them, accustomed to their behaviour. As the hours passed, uncertainty grew among those present. They continued with their activities while you were being treated. All that remained was to wait for you to wake up and tell them about yourself.

You opened your eyes slightly, looking around in confusion. It wasn't your boat. There was no captivating sky above you. There were no waves rocking your body to calm your crying.

You sat up a little on the examination table, leaning on one elbow. The two lamps that illuminated the area provided good lighting. On your left were two small shelves with bottles, their labels showing you the names of their contents. Medicines. Looking to your right, a single desk stood with more medical instruments. Laboratory tubes with different coloured caps, a stone mortar, many books and posters with drawings, from lungs to bones.

But what caught your attention most was the creature sitting in the chair. It looked like a stuffed animal. You had never seen anything like it on your home island.

"Oh! You're awake!" A shrill voice startled you.

Did that stuffed animal talk?

"What are you?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. "Can you talk? Where am I?"

"I'm the doctor for this crew." He climbed onto a stool next to you to examine you.

You seemed to be feeling better. Sanji could prepare something to boost your strength.

"A pirate crew?" You whispered fearfully.

The worst-case scenario was being captured by pirates. You mentally berated yourself for not being more careful. For falling asleep. For not begging harder to stay at home.

"Wait here." Said the little one, adjusting his tiny doctor’s coat as he left what looked like the infirmary.

You found him cute, but you weren’t going to admit it. You had to escape, not succumb to this creature. You found your sandals next to the examination table and put them on. You climbed down, making as little noise as possible, and opened the door again. You found yourself on the deck, its grass making you gasp, but you covered your mouth so as not to be discovered.

You had to survive. You had to hide. That's what your grandmother would have wanted. Your mother. Your aunt. They had all given you the chance to live. You just hoped they were all right.

You ran towards the deck in search of your boat, but growled when you didn't see it.

"Wait! Don't jump!" A female voice shouted behind you.

You turned around fearfully. A beautiful woman with short orange hair was approaching you slowly, careful not to scare you any more.

"I'm Nami. The navigator of this crew." She introduced herself with a sweet smile.

"Am I on a pirate ship?"

"We're not like other pirates." The woman assured you.

"We're good!" Shouted the doctor behind her. "And you shouldn't be out of bed. You could get sick again."

"My angel, allow this cook to be your slave and treat you like the princess you are." Said a man crouching in front of you with a bowl of soup. It smelled good. Did he say slave?

You blinked in confusion.

"Why don't you become my slave and, as your first order, jump off the ship?" Said a man with green hair and two katanas at his waist.

The blond's eyebrow twitched and he turned towards the swordsman, kicking him.

"You're going to scare her." Said a melodious voice. A woman with black hair and bangs looked at you with a sweet gaze.

"You're not going to kill us, are you?" Asked a man with a long nose hiding behind the black-haired girl.

"I thought you were going to kill me."

"Usopp is afraid of cockroaches. You could kill him with that before he tries anything." Teased the orange-haired girl.

"Oi, Nami, why are you telling her that!?"

You watched them interact for a few minutes. They were... funny. Like a little family. They didn't look like the pirates you read about in your books or in the newspaper. The dreaded Rocks D. Xebec, the mighty Whitebeard, the youngest yonko Shanks. They were all intimidating, with powerful crews, but these pirates were strange.

You smiled softly, unaware of the gaze of a certain rubber boy sitting on the lion's head.

His eyes, curious about the girl in front of him, tried to find something he had seen before. Some trace of those tears that soaked your cheeks, as if the pain you carried was greater than you wanted to show. What you hid inside you would one day explode, but until then, until you let him see it, he only wanted one thing from you.

"Join my crew!" He shouted from above. "That way you won't have to go on that little boat."

You looked up, and the air around you seemed unreachable, forbidding you to have it as you lost yourself in that smile, so bright as it melted into the setting sun.

It wasn't like you to trust so quickly. It wasn't like you to wander around with your eyes closed, without trying to figure out other people's intentions. But nothing in his gaze, in their gazes, showed you any hostility or malice. That young man who stood above everyone else as their captain had a calming aura. As if everyone would be fine by his side. As if even the greatest dangers could not disturb them with him by their side.

You knew you could have refused that day. Sailed alone until you found another island. But wherever you went, you would carry the danger with you.

And along with them, you discovered that the danger was represented by their captain.

On your first day after agreeing to join, everyone introduced themselves to you. The doctor was called Chopper, a cute blue-nosed reindeer who loved telling you medical facts, eating cotton candy, and hated the heat. He knew a lot about medicinal herbs and had an incredible dream.

The beautiful black-haired woman was Nico Robin, wanted by the World Government for being the only survivor of Ohara. She was an archaeologist and her knowledge of everything dazzled you. They told you that they had defied the World Government to save her life, and your heart beat faster.

If they knew that CP0 was after you, would they fight for you? Could you be that important to them?

The navigator, Nami, had been part of the crew from the beginning. She liked to buy pretty clothes and treasures. But what fascinated you most was her knowledge of the weather, her ability to anticipate the sea. You didn't need to announce the whispers of those waters if she could interpret them.

The long-nosed guy, Usopp, served as a sniper. His weapon confused you, forcing you to shut your mouth when you saw him use it. He never missed a single shot, always hitting the target. Nami and Robin would bet, and the short-haired girl always won because she trusted him.

The green-haired man was Roronoa Zoro, who had earned a reputation as a pirate hunter. He was serious and slept a lot, but when he laughed, he laughed heartily. He also had a strange obsession with annoying the blond man. The cook with the weird phrases and compliments, Sanji. His meals were a delicacy, and he had taken the time to ask you what your favourite was so he could make it and make you smile.

The man who only wore swimming trunks was the ship's carpenter, Franky. He had built the Sunny Go, and you considered it a work of art. You complimented the aquarium, and the area would possibly become your favourite.

And the captain, Monkey D. Luffy. That boy with his silly rubber devil fruit that made you smile. He was cheerful, playful, and funny. If everyone was here, he must be someone trustworthy.

Everything about him caught your attention.

As the days passed, you allowed yourself to feel comfortable around them. Perhaps this wasn't what your grandmother would have preferred, but if these people were enemies of the world government, then there was no safer place for you and your true identity.

No one could find a faceless girl with forbidden abilities, let alone imagine that she was now a pirate.

You told them what you could about yourself. Saying your name or talking about where you were born was not a challenge. These people did not judge you or pry into your past, not if it did not directly affect them. You discovered that they tolerated being mocked, but they did not tolerate anyone talking to or touching their friends. It was a silent respect for one another, a fondness that went beyond understanding. They were friends, they were where they needed to be. Where they belonged.

And just as everyone had their role in the crew, you couldn't really find yours.

They didn't force you to learn how to fight like an expert, but they wanted to teach you the basics so you could defend yourself.

You couldn't reveal the truth about your devil fruit. You had only mentioned that you had one, but you didn't know its powers. You had never used it to attack, as you had never been forced or needed to do so. You had never seen what it limited you to and what it promised you. With the "Hito Hito no Mi, model: Naia", you could only hear fish and sea creatures. And there was something else. Something you had discovered that embraced you in your darkest moments.

The addition of Brook —a skeleton who played various instruments and sang, which almost gave you a heart attack when you saw him— helped a lot to maintain a façade. His devil fruit had worked after he died. Everyone assumed that yours would awaken when the time was right.

Living day to day, joke after joke, disaster after disaster, was relaxing you.

You played with water pistols with everyone, shared clothes with Nami and Robin (and at night you spoiled each other with face masks and massages), you laughed at Sanji and Zoro's fights, rejected the cook's attempts to take you on a date, played guessing games about what was inside Chopper's laboratory tubes to make him smile, gave Brook ideas for songs while you drank tea together, joined in Franky and Usopp's shooting competitions, betting on who would hit the target. Always trusting the sniper, winning berries that you shared with Nami.

Luffy taught you your little training sessions to learn how to defend yourself. More than once he found you staring at him blankly, thinking you didn't understand how to throw a good punch, when in reality you were just mesmerised. Enchanted by his joy. By his smile. By his disposition. By his beauty.

"You have to bring one arm back and then push with the other! Like this!" He said, frowning in concentration.

Nami and Robin watched them, both leaning against the railing on the upper floor, outside the room the three of you shared.

"Luffy always gets like this when he decides to take on a pupil..." Sighed the navigator. "Luffy, Y/N isn't a kung fu dugong!"

The rubber boy looked at you.

"You're not going to make it?" He lamented, lowering his arms. "Zoro! Lend her one of your katanas!"

"No way." Muttered the swordsman without opening his eyes, trying to sleep.

Preparing your mind and body to improve your defence, those weak blows you used to deliver, was something you never imagined you would have to do when you lived in your village. Keeping up with your captain and the crew's cook was torture. Kicks to the head, hips, legs. Punches to the chin, stomach, nose. They were trying to teach you something you could use in a complex situation, if you didn't have time to hide. Which seemed silly to you.

Luffy's dream was to become the pirate king.

A noble dream. A dream for the brave.

He talked to you about freedom, about how the freest man in the world would be the one who became the pirate king, and you listened to him. He would sit next to you after training, when Sanji left them alone to prepare a snack at sunset. The rubber boy talked about everything and nothing. The words flowed from him as if from an inexhaustible source.

In a short time, you got to know his older brother, Ace, who, impressively, was the commander of Whitebeard's second division. A certain Dadan who raised them both alongside some mountain bandits. A young woman named Makino who always brought them clothes and taught them manners. His grandfather Garp, who served as a vice admiral in the marine and always wanted to force him to join. The yonko Shanks, who was the original owner of his straw hat, with whom he had a mission to return it when he surpassed him. And his brother Sabo, who died as a child and whom he missed madly.

Luffy talked and talked, filling your silences, smiling at you when you said something. Patiently waiting for you to talk about yourself. Eagerly waiting for you to open up. For your freedom by his side. Because that was what he wanted most for his friends. For them to be free.

But what chance of freedom could he give them if he was suffering so much?

His reality hit him like cold water. He was there, and yet he wasn't.

His world was falling apart.

He had lost them all in Sabaody. He believed he was strong, he believed he could overcome anything with enough courage, with enough confidence. If he had them by his side, he could overcome anything that came his way. He would fight for his dream, for the dreams of his friends, for the dreams of the people he met along the way.

He would do everything possible to put a smile on their faces.

So why were they determined to take his smile away? Why did they make them disappear before his eyes? Why did they let him smile broadly when he saved his brother, only to force him to hold him in his arms as he whispered his last words? Why did they have to kill Ace? Why?

Luffy was devastated. Those who were present when he awoke heard his cries of agony in the jungle. His pleas for Ace. His questions about his whereabouts.

He banged his body against the trees. His head against the rocks. He cried uncontrollably, asking, begging, pleading. A soft "thank you for loving me" repeated over and over in his mind, breaking him as he hugged himself.

It was Jinbe who pulled him out of the constant spiral his thoughts were caught up in. The doubts that gnawed at him were stagnating. Luffy wanted to be strong. He wanted to be strong enough not to lose anyone else. He wanted to be strong enough to carry his brother's will with him so that one day he could look up at the sky and smile at him, showing him that he had succeeded. He had become the king of pirates.

The news of Whitebeard's and his commander's deaths spread around the world. It received positive reactions from those who feared them and had been harmed by them. Fear spread throughout the territories that had been protected by this powerful crew. But those who suffered the most were the small family who had raised and watched these brothers grow up in Foosha.

Holding the newspaper in your hands, you read and reread the news. Just like everyone else in the crew, you wanted to be by his side. You could feel where he was. The sea whispered it to you, and you were impulsive. You never measured your actions. You never said enough to yourself. So you stole a small boat on that desolate island where you had ended up after their separation in Sabaody.

You let the sea guide you without a log pose, leading you to your captain. After a few days, you ignored the new newspaper announcing that Luffy had returned to the scene of the tragedy. Two years. You would all be reunited in two years. But you couldn't not go to his side.

You wanted to give him something to hold on to. Something that would give him calm and strength while everyone waited for their reunion.

The sea beasts cleared your path and escorted you somewhere. It took you three days to reach a jungle island. You got off your boat, nervously smoothing your white shirt. You trusted the sea. It wouldn't be wrong. But if Luffy was in this place, how would you get to him without being killed by one of those beasts growling in the distance? Sanji had taught you a few kicks, and your captain a few punches, but you were still weak.

This island was covered in vegetation. The trees stood proudly, as tall as if they were competing with each other to be the first to reach the sunlight. The plants with strange leaves were striking, to the point that something in your mind told you not to touch them. And in the distance, threatening to erupt, you could see three volcanoes.

You entered the jungle, startled by the sound of quick, heavy footsteps running towards you. You looked to your side and your scream echoed through the trees.

A larger-than-normal tiger was approaching you, baring fangs as long as your arm. You froze in fear, falling to the grass as you closed your eyes when it lunged to bite.

"Young lady? I don't know how you got here, but this is no place for beautiful girls."

You opened your eyes when death did not come, and instead there was an elderly man adjusting his glasses in front of you, smiling sideways. The tiger lay between you both, unconscious.

"Old man Rayleigh! Where are you?"

The speed with which you stood up impressed the man in front of you, whose name was Rayleigh. Rayleigh? You looked at him again. He closed his eyes, a gentle smile on his face, crossing his arms. You had read about him. You had read everything about the pirate king and his crew.

"Huh? Y/N?" You looked behind the dark king and there he was. Your captain, completely bandaged, looking at you in surprise. "Y/N!"

His movements were, all in all, normal. He didn't use his powers as he ran towards you and wrapped you in his arms. He seemed to be careful with his body, and he certainly needed to be.

"What are you doing here? How did you get here? How are the others? We were supposed to meet in two years!" His excited voice as he pulled your body close to his using what little strength he had devastated you.

You hugged him back, careful not to disturb any areas where the injury was more severe. You felt a slight tremor in his body as he asked a thousand questions, not giving you time to answer.

Rayleigh watched the two of you thoughtfully, Jinbe joining him at his side, having felt a sudden calling.

"I came by boat." You whispered.

"The little boat? That's dangerous." Said Luffy.

"Young lady, you crossed the Calm Belt and overcame all those sea beasts in a simple boat? You must be very strong." Rayleigh inquired.

"It's not that." Jinbe wanted to say, but the words reached no one but you in your mind.

Your eyes quickly found him, and he smiled at you.

"Oi, Y/N, Y/N, are you going to stay?" Luffy asked with a huge smile, capturing your full attention.

"No. I'd be interrupting whatever is going on here."

"You need to train, you're still weak." He teased.

"I'm not!" You complained.

But you were. The right-hand man of the Pirate King and the first son of the sea smiled amusedly. One, knowing the whole story. And the other, having grown up with a legend.

The sun and the sea belonged to each other. And the sun and the sea were unknowingly facing each other.

"If you don't mind, I have a proposal for you, miss Y/N." Said the gyojin.

Luffy and you stopped arguing and looked at him.

"I would like to train you in gyojin karate."

"Gyojin karate? I'm bad with my fists." You muttered, embarrassed.

"That would be great, Jinbe!" Said Luffy, picking his nose. "But doesn't it only work with gyojin? Will she turn into a mermaid?"

"She'll make it work better than anyone else." Said Rayleigh, walking towards a campfire. "I'll give you a month to talk and for Luffy to recover. Then you'll leave with Jinbe. Is that alright with both of you?"

Luffy nodded, dragging you by the hand towards the campfire.

In a month, he and you grew closer. You discovered all kinds of beetles, a hobby of his that you loved. You made them fight, betting on which one would win, groaning in frustration when you lost. You could never beat him when he had the advantage of knowledge over you.

You fought over the food Rayleigh hunted, receiving teasing from the adult who quickly grew fond of you. In his eyes, you were a sweet girl who needed to bring out that hidden strength. Jinbe only scolded Luffy when he bit your hand before you could take some meat.

It caught your attention how in the mornings your captain was a cheerful boy, giving a huge smile to anyone, but at night he would break down. You slept separately. Rayleigh used to cover him with his cape, and Jinbe covered you with his. But when no one was looking, when they went to the island's shore to talk in private, Luffy would move.

He sought refuge in your arms. He didn't ask for permission. He didn't ask questions. He didn't speak. All you felt were his bandaged arms wrapped around your waist and his face against your chest. If tears wet your shirt and silent sobs shook his body, you said nothing. You stroked his hair silently until he fell asleep, and only after making sure he was, did you sleep yourself.

It was the morning after a nightmare woke him up that you made your decision.

You had done this three or four times in your life. You weren't sure you could do it, but that was the only reason you had visited Rusukaina.

On the shore, you took off your sandals and put your feet in the water. The weakness of seawater, which must bother all users of the devil's fruit, never bothered you. When they said it was an anomaly, this was why.

You stretched your hand out over the water and it rose just ten centimetres. You clenched it into a fist and opened it again. Fifteen centimetres. You closed it again and the water fell, splashing as it formed a puddle. A puddle in the sea. The water was mirrored, confirming your success.

"How can you be there if you ate a devil fruit?"

You looked up, frightened.

Luffy looked at you confused, his head tilted to one side and his lips pursed.

"You didn't eat one then?"

"Luffy..."

"I saw you lift the water."

"It must have been your imagination." You said, smiling nervously.

"No. Earlier on the Sunny Go, I saw you attract the fish. I thought it was Camie, but Camie doesn't eat her friends."

You remained silent.

"It must be great to be able to swim with a devil fruit!" He laughed as he approached you. "What were you doing with the water? Something like fium and splash!"

You scratched the back of your neck while the bandaged boy moved his hands in exaggerated movements. That was just how he was. And you were becoming more attached to him than usual. The way he explained things with the sounds they made made you smile.

"If I tell you, it will be a secret between us."

"Are you going to show me your treasure?" He asked, his eyes sparkling.

"Something like that."

You took his hand, pulling him close to you. You both looked out at the puddle in the sea, so much like a mirror.

With the end of the month and the promise to meet again in two years, you parted ways. The truth about your devil fruit was kept by your captain, who smiled happily at learning more about you. Happy at how little by little you were opening up to them. To him.

He begged you for different tricks with water, bursting into laughter when the sea water weakened him. He understood why Jinbe had to be the one to train you, eager to know how strong you would be in two years. He was saddened when, at night, he no longer had your warmth by his side and your caresses on his hair to soothe his pain and trauma.

But he took refuge in your gift.

That puddle you had created in the sea was trapped in a seashell. You had taught him how to take the enchanted water out and put it back in, with no limit on its use.

He believed it was the best thing in the world after his hat, his brothers, and his crew.

His lonely nights were filled with laughter by the sea. Laughter that had previously only existed in his memories, but which he could now hear and see. The puddle formed mirages, reflecting his memories.

He saw Ace. He saw Sabo. He saw the three of them running through Mount Colubo. Hunting, playing, fighting. He cried at everything he witnessed. Just hearing his brothers being happy, Sabo counting the points in their training sessions, Ace teasing him for being weak, his taunts at seeing his older brother embarrassed when receiving compliments from Makino. It all made his heart ache.

The two years passed more quickly than the crew had expected. The strength they had all gained, their new skills and their new appearances were something to be appreciated.

Your training with Jinbe on a remote island in order to hide your identity had been laborious. You were good at gyojin karate. Your devil fruit responded to you with ease now. You could defend yourself and attack without relying on others, but the adult had told you that you still had a long way to go. The Hito Hito no Mi would not stop there. You still had to awaken it. You still had to learn more with it, without limiting yourself. You could do anything you could imagine with enough determination.

You smiled amusedly when you saw Nami sitting at the bar, drinking alone. You approached her from behind, hugging her and whispering in her ear.

"Are you free tonight?"

The woman, now with long hair, shuddered when she recognised the voice and turned around with a smile.

"Y/N!" Her arms wrapped around you in a big hug. "It's been so long! You look amazing!"

"You look beautiful, Nami." You said, sitting down next to her with a smile.

"Ladies, would you like me to buy you a drink?"

You both turned towards the voice with disinterest, your expressions instantly changing when you recognised it. Usopp was smiling, looking more confident than ever. Nami and you rushed to hug him, starting to talk about everything the three of you had done in those two years. You talked a little about your training, saying that you were now good at karate, proud of your attacks.

As the minutes passed, you met up with the others again.

The Sunny Go was still in the same place you left it, without a single scratch. Seeing most of the crew filled your heart with joy. Those people who had welcomed you with open arms two years ago were finally in front of you again.

Franky whistled and complimented the beautiful women in front of him. His appearance had changed a lot since the past, but he was approached by Usopp, who looked at him excitedly and asked all sorts of questions. Chopper, wearing a new hat and looking cuter than ever, jumped around and hugged Robin excitedly. He had missed everyone dearly. Robin, more beautiful than ever with her long hair, talked about her days with the Revolutionary Army.

Everyone looked healthy, but above all, they looked happy. Happy to be back where they belonged.

But someone was missing.

And just thinking about seeing him again made your heart race wildly inside your chest, wanting to escape.

"I can't wait to see how much Luffy has changed since last time!" Usopp exclaimed with a smile from ear to ear. "I'm so excited to see him!"

"Me too." Said Robin.

You nodded silently, smiling fondly. When the assumption was made that he might have gotten himself into trouble, Chopper offered to go find the three remaining members. The moment the little one left, an irreplaceable presence fell from above.

Brook had left behind his life as a world-renowned musician to return to his beloved friends. They all welcomed him with smiles.

"And I thought you couldn't get any more beautiful…" Commented the skeleton, looking at the three women. "Well… Two years have passed."

He sat down on a barrel and a few strings of his guitar resonated in the air.

"Would you all be so kind and show me your panties?"

"No way!"

Nami kicked him away, while Robin and you laughed.

"Oi! Guys!"

You looked up just as his voice reached your ears. Your big smile matched those of the others, but the sparkle in your eyes hid the longing in your heart, those feelings that had blossomed when you spent a month together, completely alone, sleeping in each other's arms every night. Those feelings you tried to fight, repeating in your mind like a mantra that they would pass if you didn't see him, breaking down when you dreamed of his smile or when you thought of his reaction to seeing you again.

You stayed behind the others with a sudden blush on your cheeks.

You had never seen him without his multiple bandages. And now there he was, stepping onto the deck of the Sunny Go while greeting everyone, wearing an open red shirt that revealed that huge scar.

Luffy had gained muscle. He looked stronger. More confident. And yet, you could see that he was the same as always, that his strength and confidence were centred on the people around him.

The rubber boy looked for you, smiling when he saw you.

Neither of you spoke, at least not out loud, pretending that nothing had happened between you.

The journey to Fishman Island had been quite an adventure. Seeing the underwater world left you speechless. Holding onto the railing, you admired the different schools of fish that surrounded the ship from time to time, circling twice before swimming away. You wanted to reach out and feel them against your skin, but that would have exposed you. The sea water did not weaken you, and the crew knew you had an “unused” devil fruit.

"I think they're greeting you." You looked to your side, to that warm presence.

Luffy was looking at a school of pink fish that had come up to your face to look at you from the other side of the bubble.

"Yes?" You said, amused.

"We could eat them."

"Don't even think about it." You scolded him.

"But you're not a mermaid!"

"But they talk to me. They're friends."

"Friends aren't for eating." He muttered, pressing his lips together.

You giggled admiringly at the little pout he made as his stomach growled. That soft sound from you disturbed the sea animals around the Sunny Go, who were happily swirling around.

"Are there always so many fish? How cool!" Said Usopp, standing next to you.

You snuggled up to Luffy a little, pretending not to know anything. Luffy moved his mouth into a pout to one side, also pretending not to know.

"You're bad at lying." You whispered.

"I'm not." He whispered back.

You laughed, leaving him with Usopp.

Fishman Island was a dreamlike place. Your devil fruit seemed comfortable there, and the mermaids and gyojin looked at you excitedly.

The powerful goddess of the sea, Naia, stood before them.

The legend told for generations spoke of how she was always accompanied by a man. A clingy man who never left her side. A playful man who always made her laugh. A selfish man who never refrained from looking at her with love and wanting her for himself.

That man was the sun god.

They said that when they separated, the goddess cried so much that her tears disturbed the sea. The catastrophe caused by the forced breakup of their love made her sleep for centuries. And at some point, when the sun rose again, she would wake up.

Mothers and children never stopped talking about how they, the inhabitants of Fishman Island, would be the first to recognise her. After all, Naia was a kind of mother to that race.

Everyone wondered who the man accompanying you would be.

Nami and Robin watched amused as the little mermen, mermaids, and gyojin children clung to you shamelessly, asking you to play with them. You had no idea how to refuse. Throughout the banquet, you were here and there, performing water tricks hidden from your crew, entertaining the little ones who were excited by the slightest thing you did.

Jinbe, happy to see your progress and how you were doing in the water, smiled as he drank his sake.

Everyone was having a good time. Everyone except for a rubber boy who occasionally remembered that you weren't by his side and, capriciously, pouted. He calmed down again when they gave him meat, enjoying the party.

You sat down next to him, exhausted. You didn't know what other tricks to do for those children. You took a sip of sake, on the verge of spitting it out when another gyojin child came up in front of you.

"Oi, kids, she's mine for now." Said Luffy, frowning and taking a bite of meat.

You blushed, trying to drink the sake faster. Robin raised an eyebrow at his words, giving the orange-haired woman beside her an inquiring look. They both knew how possessive the rubber boy could be. His hat and his friends were equally important to him. But that phrase… That tone was different.

The impact his words could have on one's life or day was foreign to Luffy. Noticing that what he unconsciously said brought a revolution was not something he cared about.

He continued as if nothing had happened.

And so, his normal behaviour over the following days came as no surprise to anyone. The navigator and the archaeologist watched you both closely, knowing that there was something else going on between you.

Even though your captain sat next to you at breakfast, fighting with you over the portions you hadn't eaten yet (something he would do with anyone), there was something strange about it. The natural way you would slap his hand and growl at him. The way he would bite your hand hard, making you cry out. They did not remember the two of you being so close before Sabaody, two years ago.

You had not had time to develop such a friendship.

And it did not seem like a simple friendship.

One night, when you hadn't yet come to your room to sleep with them, they talked.

"Seriously, if those two are a couple and they didn't tell us..." Whispered Nami.

"I don't think they are. In fact, I think that's where they're headed." Robin refuted.

"If Luffy feels something for her, he won't notice." Growled the navigator, burying her face in her pillow.

The black-haired woman smiled as she sat on her own bed.

"We just have to give them time." She murmured.

"We have to keep an eye on them."

"Without interfering." Robin concluded.

Island after island you visited in the future, day after day that passed, both women decided to give you privacy, paying attention only during dinners. As if reviewing the day, looking for some sign of progress.

It was amid the heat of the flames and the volcanoes about to erupt in Punk Hazard that Robin noticed the first detail: Luffy talked to you like he didn't talk to anyone else.

The heat was unbearable, you could barely stand that kind of hell, ignoring that your captain now looked like a centaur and shouted excitedly that he liked having four legs. If you looked closer, you noticed that the ones at the back, which had just been attached, were barely working. They flew through the air because Luffy's legs did all the work.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead for the fourth time when the smiling boy approached you. He leaned over to you, whispering in your ear.

"Why don't you make something like a sphere of water and hydrate yourself?"

"I can't. There's no source of water nearby." You whispered.

"Your sweat."

You parted your lips, not believing what he had said. Use your sweat? And why was he looking at you like that? With his brow slightly furrowed, as if he had said the most serious, intelligent and obvious thing in the world. You smiled amusedly, patting his shoulder.

Robin noticed it again when all of you arrived on the other side of the lake, where the island became wintry. The small group was shivering from the cold, freezing after falling into the water. The archaeologist sighed as she felt her body warm up, turning to check that everyone was okay, raising her eyebrows briefly in surprise.

Her captain was wrapping a coat around your body, as if it were a practised movement. Neither of you knew that Luffy had actually watched others do this and wanted to try it himself.

Because that's what people who loved someone else did, right? Give them a coat so they would never be cold. Rayleigh had done it for him when they trained together. Hancock had lent him hers to get to Sabaody.

In his mind, if you cared about someone, you should give them a coat.

Although he knew very well why he only wanted to give it to you.

During the banquet, when you walked away to comfort Chopper, who was frightened by Trafalgar Law, the two women sat down to exchange information. Nami hadn't seen anything unusual, so she was surprised to hear about her captain's actions towards you.

The navigator became frustrated when she couldn't stay in Dressrosa, feeling like she was missing out on everything. Robin promised to keep her informed when they met again.

And so she did.

You had signed up with him for the coliseum tournament, wearing one of the many gladiator outfits. Luckily, you had been placed in a different block from Luffy, saving you from a difficult fate. It wasn't time for your competition yet when Zoro came looking for the two of you.

The urgency with which you began searching for the exit made you anxious. Outside, it would soon be chaos, but the thought of Luffy abandoning one of the few physical reminders he had of his brother made your heart ache. You wished you could get it for him, but he had forbidden you to do so. If he left, you would go with him.

You stopped in your tracks for a few seconds when you realised there was nowhere to escape. Encountering Bartolomeo and Bellamy only confirmed your suspicions. It was all a trap and you were trapped in the coliseum, only he knew the way out.

"Luffy senpai, what will happen to the Mera Mera no Mi?" Asked the green-haired man, staring at the wall.

"The lives of my comrades are more important."

You bit your lower lip. A physical reminder of Ace that he couldn't have. A physical reminder that would give him a glimpse of his time in the world, something that would show him that he was there. You could stay in the coliseum without any problems. Win it, take it away in its chest, keep it safe, and run away with it until you could give it to Luffy...

Luffy tugged on your little finger without looking at you to pull you out of your thoughts. Bartolomeo talked non-stop, still facing the wall, about how he had always planned to win it for him. Because he admired him. He admired the whole crew and would do anything for any of you, but especially for the young man next to you.

You turned to look back when approaching footsteps interrupted you. You frowned at the man. He was dressed like a noble would be. And he wore a custom hat.

"I won't let you keep the Mera Mera no Mi, Straw Hat Luffy."

"What are you talking about, idiot?" Bartolomeo growled, walking towards him. "I don't know who you think you are, but to you he is Luffy senpai. Respect him!"

The green-haired man continued talking, trying to intimidate him, but that man was not fazed. He was calm, not taking his eyes off the boy you loved. You began to frown.

"I've known all that for a long time." Said the man, pushing Bartolomeo away.

You stood in front of Luffy, trying to protect him when he started to approach. Your right hand took a familiar gyojin karate stance, and something in the blond's gaze seemed to sparkle in recognition. The rubber boy stood in front of you again, hating that you were protecting him.

But what happened next was something neither of you were prepared for. You stepped aside, your lower lip trembling, unable to interrupt them.

You could only watch your rubber boy crying as he hugged him. His sobs were loud, letting out more than he had allowed himself to do at your side. He apologised. He repeated to the blond that everything was fine and that he shouldn't apologise. The older one thanked him for staying alive.

And you were broken, thanking whoever for this joy in his life.

Living two years of his life believing that he had lost his two older brothers must have been the greatest torture.

In Zou, despite the situation they had to face in Big Mom's territory, Nami and Robin made a space for themselves.

"So, his brother is the second in command of the Revolutionary Army?" The navigator whispered.

Robin nodded. She had kept that secret for two years.

"Sabo noticed something too."

"What?"

"I don't know what happened between the three of them, but when Luffy and Y/N were sleeping after the battle..."

"Separately?" Whispered Nami.

"Yes and no. Luffy was in bed and Y/N was holding his hand, sitting on the floor."

The navigator nodded thoughtfully, waiting for her to continue.

"Sabo said he liked his little brother's girlfriend."

Nami's eyes widened in surprise.

As if Zoro and Franky hadn't heard the revolutionary's conversation too. Now you had two more pairs of eyes watching you from afar.

As night fell, you yawned relaxed in bed. You couldn't be at peace for long. Your stomach churned at the thought of Luffy going to the territory of a yonko without you. It calmed you to think that the friends he was going with were good and trustworthy. Bringing Sanji back was essential.

You couldn't imagine your days without him in the kitchen, occupying every corner and filling the room with his twists and compliments.

The blanket was lifted carefully and arms wrapped around your waist.

"Luffy?" You whispered.

"Mhm."

Your heart skipped a beat. Should you put one hand on his hair and the other on his back like you used to? Should you tell him to go back to his room? To his bed? And not feel his warmth. Not feel his heartbeat. Not comfort him in silence. Since you saw each other again, you hadn't slept together.

"Y/N?" He whispered, resting his chin on your chest. "You must stroke my hair."

His demanding tone, trapped in a pout, made you giggle. He relaxed under your touch. He hadn’t wanted to bother you when you saw each other again, but he had missed this. Your fingers in his hair, the gentle circles traced on his back, waking up without you leaving him.

You had stolen his heart in a month, and he wasn't doing anything about it.

"Sorry." He murmured, his cheek resting on your chest. His tone didn't seem to regret whatever he was regretting in the slightest.

"Why are you apologising?"

"I gave Sabo your gift. The seashell." He whispered without looking at you. "I thought he would need it more than I did."

You smiled, resisting the urge to kiss his forehead.

"It’s okay. I can make you another one if you want."

Luffy didn't say what he was thinking. He knew you would make those magical pools for him if he asked, without needing a seashell. Next time, he wanted to show you everything he had to show.

But that would have to wait.

Wano was unlike anything you had ever seen before.

The suffering of the people in this village made your blood boil. Poor people had nothing to eat, and their water was contaminated. Seeing them live dehydrated, with sick children and rumbling stomachs, pushed you to your limit.

Hiding your identity would be difficult in this country. They needed you, so you allowed yourself to do something in secret. The gentle touch of your hands began to purify the water of the river of Ebisu, the pollution seeping into your bones. You didn't mention it to anyone, it was an experiment. You wanted to know your limits.

The flowing water was clean, perfect for the children, elderly and adults in the area. It was the little you could do while enduring the pollution. You had to find a way to expel it from within you without causing havoc. Throwing it away and contaminating plants, the land for future crops or the sea itself disgusted you.

But maybe, enduring it was your mistake.

Perhaps if you had gone against your principles and stopped trusting Luffy's words, those that promised to save this country, you would not be suffering now. But it was impossible for you not to do so. It was impossible for you not to trust him. You knew he would succeed, because he never lied. He worked hard for what he set out to do.

He was like sunshine in the lives of those who knew him.

You tolerated the contamination in your bones during the battles in Onigashima, but weeks had passed since you received it and your body began to take its toll at the worst possible moment.

You could only hear Nami and Usopp's screams when you stood in front of them. The three of you had a little girl with you. Otama was Luffy's adoration, and putting her in danger was something you would never forgive yourself for. The powers of your devil fruit did not respond in time to counter the threatening attack of the yonko Big Mom, an attack that was aimed at your friends.

The "heavenly fire" struck your body, its impact propelling it and slamming it against the walls. That homie, Prometheus, pushed your body wall to wall, breaking them one by one as if he were on a mission. As if he wanted to kill someone from the straw hat crew.

You spat out a little blood when the fire became more intense. It was burning your torso and arms. If you moved your fingers slightly, you didn't have the strength to call on the sea water, nor to send Prometheus backwards.

A song reached your ears. You opened your eyes slightly, meeting the gaze of the homie, so threatening and sinister. You smiled slightly, knowing you would be safe.

That soft intonation, almost as if a mother were tucking her beloved child into bed, could not be heard by anyone else present on Onigashima. Naia's song was exclusively for you, only heard on special occasions. The first time you heard it, you consumed her fruit. And this time, everything was a mystery.

"Y/N!"

Was that cry from Usopp or Nami? You couldn't see them. You could only watch Prometheus rage at your smile.

A gasp escaped from within you as the force of his attack tripled. The other homies joined him, Hera and Napoleon, carrying you through the hard rock wall.

A beep stunned your ears.

Your body fell from a height impossible to calculate. The abyss drew you into its darkness, and you could do nothing but embrace it.

The severity of your injuries left you with no strength to scream. To call for help. To call out to anyone.

Luffy, your friends, the people of Wano who trusted you. Was this your end? Was this Naia's will, for which you had been expelled from your native island? Did you really have to die like this?

The water engulfed you as you hit hard, sinking you to the depths.

"Announcement to all of Onigashima!"

Bao Huang's shout echoed in every corner. The fighting didn't stop, but everyone was paying attention. Something had changed.

"A member of the straw hat crew has been defeated!"

Usopp growled, wiping away his tears in despair. He felt useless. He should have taken the attack, not let you cover him. He couldn't do anything because of the fear. He couldn't do anything to stop you from falling. Nami hugged Otama, sobbing hard, apologising to Luffy over and over again even though her captain wasn't in front of them. How could she explain to him that she let the woman he loved be killed right in front of his eyes? Everyone's friend? Another straw hat.

"Y/N has been killed by Big Mom-sama!"

At different points on Onigashima, the crew was moved. Different reactions crossed their faces. Anger, sadness, regret. Some, like Chopper and Brook, shouted through their tears that you couldn't have died. That Bao Huang was lying. Others, like Zoro and Sanji, silently continued to fight. You were just as stubborn as Luffy, whatever had happened to you, you wouldn't stop there. Jinbe stopped dead in his tracks as Robin hugged Chopper, looking for something to hold on to before her thoughts consumed her mind.

Luffy's heart scratched at his chest as he was forced to hold back.

He wanted to run to the edge of the terrace. He wanted to look down. He felt the need for his longing to become one with the sea despite his inability to swim. And he felt you. The soft beating of your heart, how weak your pulse was, and how calm the waves were. Could you drown if you were the sea itself? Could your wounds condemn your soul to an irreversible fate?

He clenched his fists, unflinching. One mistake, one moment of weakness, would end everyone's life.

For some strange reason, the news from Bao Huang did not affect him like it did the others, who were crying incessantly.

Luffy trusted you, even when his observation haki could no longer sense your heartbeat.

You had spent a month together. You had slept together. You had shared and fought over food. You had cared for his mind and his nightmares without him asking. You had listened to his whole story and his dreams, while opening up about yours only to him. You had been one of the reasons he was standing there today, fighting.

He trusted you. He trusted that you would be okay.

If your origin was the sea, then you would return to it. And the sea would do its thing to bring you back.

Because you belonged by his side, in a silent agreement that neither of you would break.

In the depths, hundreds of fish and sea creatures surrounded your lifeless body, giving you space, shy to be near their goddess. Your outstretched arms allowed them to see you. The burns on your torso and neck continued to bleed, despite the water's attempts to soothe them. The pollution tolerated for weeks drained away little by little, oozing from your body until it gathered into a sphere.

"Nika, you've got yours!"

"Oi, Luffy! That's my food!"

The voices, clearly reproachful, echoed among those present under the sea.

"Naia! Come jump!"

"Y/N, let's play something!"

A heartbeat.

"Nika, stop moving, you're annoying."

"Luffy, I can't sleep if you move around so much. Go to your bed."

Another heartbeat.

"Naia is mean."

"Y/N is mean, she wouldn't let me eat her food."

Fire ravaged Onigashima. Everyone began to gather in one place, desperately searching for a solution. The captain of the straw hat pirates continued to fight Kaido, filling the atmosphere with anxiety. No member of the alliance wanted to hear any more bad news.

"Even if Straw Hat-ya wins, we'll all die in the fire." Said the captain of the heart pirates. "We have to find a way to put it out."

Nami took a few steps towards the centre, standing next to Marco as some surfaces began to give way.

The sudden tremor in the floor frightened everyone. Several fell to the floor, breathing heavily amid the flames and two powerful presences fighting on the terrace. The navigator held Otama tightly in front of her.

"An earthquake? How is that possible up here?" She said, confused.

"This isn't normal. Something's happening." Robin drew some minks towards the centre with her powers.

"Is Straw Hat provoking it?" Kid growled.

"No..." Law said. "He's still fighting Kaido."

"I sense another presence-yoi."

"It’s not Luffy or Kaido? What’s going on? Robin!" Chopper hugged the archaeologist, crying.

"There’s something in the sea!"

The scream of one of the beast pirates alarmed their opponents, with Law being the first to look into the hole you had made in the wall before dying. His crew had been on the Polar Tang at the moment you fell, but according to their reports, it was impossible to reach your body. A blue sphere surrounded you and the sea beasts threatened to attack them. They could have killed his friends, but something was holding them back. The waves battered his submarine, sending it away every time it approached where you were supposed to be.

One by one, they took clumsy steps to look through the hole, at a considerable distance, afraid of falling. Most of the straw hats did not want to see what was left after your death. The pain in their hearts could not be revealed, and their tears could not be shed. Not until it was all over.

The waves crashed into each other with fury, their directions unnatural. Not even the weather in the New World could explain something like that. Nami left Otama next to a sleeping Zoro, holding onto the wall to get a closer look.

"The water is receding." She whispered. "Everyone, stay in the centre!"

"Oi, oi, Nami, the waves can't reach up here, why are you worried?" Asked Usopp.

"Because of that thing that's taking shape."

The metres receded by the sea rose up in a wave. A wave almost two thousand metres high, immovable. And in its centre, there was a figure. A woman created from water, rivalling a giant in size.

"We won't get out of here alive." Cried Usopp.

"Robin-chan, Nami-swan, I'll protect you."

"Sanji! Me too!" Chopper whimpered.

"She looks like..." Law whispered.

"That's Y/N!" Jinbe shouted.

The entire crew's eyes widened before they began screaming and crying.

"Monster!" Usopp exclaimed upon seeing the figure.

"What is that thing, it's scary!" Nami cried.

"Y/N-chan had that kind of power all along?" Sanji shouted, leaning further out of the hole.

"I'm glad she's alive, yohoho!"

"It's a super miracle!" Franky sobbed.

"What a peculiar shape..." Robin murmured thoughtfully. "Do you know anything about it, Jinbe-san?"

The gyojin smiled broadly.

Naia had returned.

"I would recommend everyone stand in the centre and hold each other. Y/N is going to do something."

You cupped the water in your hands. Just as you had practised for two years, you had no reason to be nervous. Your body felt healthy and light as you became the sea itself. The burns would still be there once you broke this form, but now it was enough. Jinbe had trained you relentlessly so that you could achieve his hikishio ipponzeoi.

You prepared your attack and, without hesitation, half the sea was thrown towards Onigashima.

The flood was unprecedented.

The fire was completely extinguished. The devil fruit users weakened. The few gyojin who were there saved everyone from being swept away by the waves. Nami carried Otama, Usopp saved Robin, Sanji held Zoro, Franky grabbed Brook, and Jinbe put Chopper on his shoulder. Everyone in the crew smiled as they looked out to sea, where your figure stood in all its grandeur and splendour. To say they were surprised would be an understatement. They had so much to ask you. Two wanted to apologise for everything you had been through. A certain swordsman would seek you out to train when he woke up and heard the news. The archaeologist wanted to know everything about your devil fruit and its rarity.

You were something that transcended the unnatural.

"Shishishi!"

You looked up at the island's roof. Luffy, in a strange white form, floated in the air, reclining with his arms behind his head. His beautiful pink eyes looked at you fondly. And amid all that radiant happiness, you could see tears threatening to escape.

"Thank you for coming back, Y/N."

The land of Wano made headlines worldwide. The bounty posters were updated. The crew now belonged to a yonko, straw hat Luffy.

It made you happy to see how he was getting closer and closer to fulfilling his dream. And, in turn, how you were now one of the members with the highest bounty.

You held the poster in front of your face, grimacing from time to time as you felt Chopper's hooves on your burns, applying an ointment that he claimed was excellent. You would be left with scars on your neck and chest, but you couldn't dream of leaving that country without a scratch. You didn't regret defending your friends.

Although Nami and Usopp never left your side, the sniper crying and hugging you every time you passed by him, and the navigator offering you berries (something she wouldn't normally do with anyone) and multiple strokes on your hair.

You paid attention to your photo on the poster. It was you, from head to toe, every little detail, every tiny imperfection, but all loved by the sea. The sea goddess you had awakened had been captured and everyone admired her. For some she was terrifying, for others magical.

You smiled dumbly. You couldn't always use such a powerful attack, but being immortalised like this was nice. You traced the numbers with your index finger, curious about the insane sum.

Why was your head suddenly worth 1,000,000,000 berries? You had only died, come back to life, and extinguished the fire on Onigashima. Perhaps you had also purified all the water in Wano, and Trafalgar Law had used his devil fruit to remove the pollution from inside you. But that was not something others could know.

You never got a straight answer to that.

Egghead was about to be a disaster. CP0 was on the island with clear instructions. Your boots echoed on the floor as you stepped aside to wait for Luffy. You were supposed to take him back to Labophase, but he was more interested in facing an old enemy he had encountered again.

You looked up, entranced. His Gear 5 was mind-blowing. Everything he could do with his devil fruit, the ease with which his brain came up with new ideas, it all made you laugh. Not to mention the floor, which now made you bounce.

Vegapunk hurried over to the monitors.

"Have the white and blue warriors appeared yet?" He asked, his eyes shining as he caught sight of Luffy laughing. "Tell me about those transformations. The white one from Straw Hat and the young girl on her wanted poster."

"We don't know, to be honest." Said Nami. "Luffy's is the Gomu Gomu no Mi, but Y/N's is unknown to us."

The scientist pressed his lips together, holding back a smile.

"There is no fruit with that name in the devil fruit encyclopaedia!"

The crew gasped, unable to comprehend.

"What? That's impossible!" Exclaimed the navigator.

"Luffy always says gomu gomu when he attacks." Added Usopp.

"Look how beautiful he is! I'm sure she is too!" Rambled Vegapunk, raising his hands. "It's fate! I didn't expect to meet them like this."

"If you know anything, tell us. Y/N-chan doesn't talk much about herself." Sanji requested.

"What happened to those two?" Franky asked, approaching the screen to look at the two of you.

Luffy was still floating there laughing, and you looked at him with a sparkle in your eyes.

"They look like gods."

The cook choked on his own words, unable to believe it.

"Luffy a god? He's an idiot!" He shouted. "Y/N-chan is a goddess, that's true."

Robin looked at Vegapunk in surprise.

"Are you saying that those appearances we saw are those of gods?"

"Yes." Said the scientist, his expression turning serious. "The warrior of liberation. He who plays the fool and brings smiles to all. The sun god, Nika!"

The few crew members present were surprised. The answers that no one else could give them were in the brain of this man who stared at the screen excitedly. Eager to talk. Eager to educate the world.

"And the goddess he loves, the one capable of punishing everyone for him. The goddess of the sea, Naia."

Nami shook her head, approaching Vegapunk.

"Nika and Naia? I've never heard those names."

"Of course not. Their names were erased from history." The scientist said abruptly. "Nika and Naia were inseparable."

The revealed legend left them speechless. In the end, the archaeologist was right.

It was best not to interfere.

The sun god felt a deep longing for the sea. Seeing it every day made him feel free, and he wanted to reach it more than anything else. Then, one day, he met its goddess. He thought she would help him help. If he could make people laugh, then she could give them freedom.

Naia was closed off, only willing to care for those she loved: the gyojin, the mermaids, the mermen. Opening the doors of her heart to let Nika in went against her principles. He knew how to make her laugh effortlessly with a joke or a silly expression. He fought with her over food, hitting him every time he wanted to eat a fish. He invited her to have fun jumping with his friends. He asked her to do water tricks for him.

Falling in love with each other was natural. Nika always admired her foolishly, his gaze never leaving her. He loved her loudly with his actions. He loved her silently with his words.

Naia always looked up, because he loved to float. He shone in a way that only he could. Her love was protective, ensuring that he never lost his smile. That he never shed a single tear.

For him, she was freedom. And for her, he was.

Someone feared their powers together, the ease with which people became attached to and trusted them, asking them for things they could give them. So, under false pretences, he murdered the sun god.

The two lovers agreed to meet again when destiny required it. When the time came. First, Nika would return, accompanied by a man who shared his ideals of freedom. Then, Naia would notice him. Her living love.

That devil fruit that had eluded the world government for centuries, and that devil fruit that was believed to be non-existent, would wait to be reincarnated.

Nika would choose who would bring a new dawn to the world, and Naia would take into her sweet arms the one who would support him on his journey. A mystical love, a destined love. Unconsciously, their successors would love each other just as they had.

Because their souls resonated. Their souls yearned for each other. Their souls waited.

And that statue that had been looking —alone, hidden from everyone with its arms outstretched— at the sun for centuries, would finally be able to feel his skin under her fingers once again.

At Nami’s sweet request, he found himself sitting and going through the letters whenever he had spare time. She was certain there had to be something there that might help and Sanji would gladly devote any amount of time to making her life easier.

After all, they had made land on this small, inoffensive island and he had time between his supply run and when he’d begin preparing a meal for the black hole on their crew.

He’d attempted to get Franky to join in but the shipwright was very uninterested in sitting and reading letters for hours on end. And he was nowhere near as scared of Nami as Usopp was (who often grumpily paged through them in the evenings).

Sanji lit another cigarette as he flipped through endless pages of little stories from years passed before he found one that stood out. Not many of these had stains but this one did, marked just on the edge with what looked like grease.

I’ve managed to fit it in your box but it was hard. When I asked some of the locals, they said the name translated to cliff boar and I can’t spell its actual one so that’s what I’ll call it.

I don’t remember how they cooked it when I was there but I tried my hardest to replicate it. It’s not the best but it has been in my freezer for ages now and I think it got burned by the cold… anyway, I doubt you’ll enjoy it but good luck!

Also, could you please send me something as soon as you can? I want to send you a letter this evening to tell you about if these work.

Sanji paused at the letter, at first affronted by the idea that preparing a dish with freezer-burnt meat was ever going to taste good. But as he reread it again, he noticed more in the letter that he’d missed on his first scan.

The name of an animal could help Nami. If the beast only lived on a handful of islands, then perhaps it would give her another thread to pull through this impossible knot. Not that Nami-san needed his help, of course. She was brilliant enough to map a storm while standing in the middle of it. But if he could place even one useful thing in her hands, he would gladly spend the afternoon buried in damp paper to do it.

But other than that, there was one more thing.

The request at the end sat strangely with him; it grew only worse the longer he considered it. He looked over the pile of letters beside him.

Hundreds of them but every single one a reply. Not one that he’d seen had been the start of a conversation. Each one was only a response to something that had been sent first. A continuous conversation, maybe, but possibly…

Sanji set the letter aside and no sooner had the captain slingshot himself into one of the trees aboard the Sunny, did he pick it up again.

“Oi, Luffy. Can this friend of yours send you letters first?”

Luffy tilted his head to the side. “Like without me sending one?”

“This letter implies she’s waiting for you to send her something first,” Sanji said.

Luffy scratched the back of his neck, thinking about it before he hummed. “Uh… I don’t know. She always sends her letters back with whatever I give her. I’ve never asked though. Maybe I should ask.”

Nami’s shoes on the deck made Sanji snap into a better seat, his smile warm as she approached to see the letter he was holding. She leaned over his shoulder and he held it up to the light so she could see the words easier.

“Cliff boar,” she said, entirely unbothered by the potential information about the devil fruit. “It’s a generic name but maybe somebody will know what it is. Was there a butcher on the island?”

“Two,” Sanji answered. “Nami-san, I would be happy to escort you – ”

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I’ll go speak to them by myself. There are other things I want to shop for that I don’t need everybody around for.”

He nodded. “Of course. But if you do need help, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Luffy dropped down at the table, shoved some of the older letters carefully back, and began to scribble a note. Sanji glanced toward it, mentally comparing the rough scrawl to the finer responses.

Nami glanced toward him too. “I know you don’t want to ask her about the name of her island but would you at least ask how far the one with the cliff boars is? It’ll help me find this impossible island.”

“And, if she could get one, a replacement cut of the meat,” Sanji said. “It’s a disgrace to judge it off one dish. I’m certain with the right preparation, it will be perfect.”

Luffy nodded enthusiastically.

Across the sea, you were busy sorting through your top kitchen drawer which no longer contained only your utensils but a massive box of old candles, four sets of silverware cutlery with barnacles growing over them, and a bag of coins large enough to prevent you from opening the thing fully.

At least, you hoped the bag was filled with coins.

You braced one knee against the cupboard and reached into the gap, fingers scraping over wax, metal, and something unpleasantly soft before they found wet cloth. With a tug, you pulled out a rolled-up kitchen towel, cold seawater dripping down your wrist and into your sleeve.

You pulled it out and unfurled it to find a soaking letter, smiling faintly. You hadn’t expected another one so soon after they made land.

Back early because this island is super boring. You wouldn’t even like it because there’s nothing to do. Zoro and I walked around the whole thing and found nothing except for this one flower that looked like it could be made from meat but definitely wasn’t. Then Zoro wandered off so I came back.

Sanji found one of your letters though and he said it seems like you can’t send me anything first. Is that true? So you can only write back after I send something? That seems really annoying.

And also, he wants more of that gross boar meat from wherever you found it. And then Nami wants to know how far away the boar island is from your one.

Do you think there are real meat flowers? Usopp said a flower tried to eat him once but I don’t know if that means the flower is made of meat too. What do you think?

You smiled faintly and put the letter over your drying rack in the kitchen. The rag itself was soaked. You would have to wait for it to dry before you could wrap your own letter up in it but that should be fine.

Were his crew reading through your old letters? First the request from Robin and Nami and now this… it was sweet and a little mortifying. You’d been writing responses since you were far too young to know how to write properly and some of what you’d shared with Luffy was private.

Though strangely, despite his mention of Nami’s letter, you’d yet to find it amongst the pile of damp papers in front of your letterbox. And it hadn’t rained in some time now.

You considered asking about it, already grabbing a pen and paper to write your response before you heard footsteps outside.

You sighed and put both down.

A familiar man stood in your garden, half-shadowed beneath the arch of climbing vines you had trained over the path last spring. One boot crushed the edge of your thyme patch. His shoulder brushed against the crooked post where you had hung the shell chimes, making them clack softly in the breeze while he drank from one of the bottles you always left on the table for him.

You opened your front door. “Good afternoon. Lost again?”

He turned to you immediately, one hand falling to the swords at his waist before he recognised your face. “Oh, it’s you again,” he muttered. “Are you still stalking me?”

You leaned against your doorframe. “I promise I’m really not stalking you.”

“Right,” he said and he downed the bottle. “You and your house just always seem to appear.”

“I’ve told you. It’s because you’re lost.”

“I’m not lost,” he scoffed. “I’m going back to my ship right now. Or, I was, before you showed up again.”

Most people found your island once, if they found it at all. They arrived pale and shaken or laughing too loudly, stayed only long enough to drink water, mend a sail, or ask where they were, and then they were gone. He was different. He came back with the irritated persistence of a bad habit and still seemed convinced you were the one putting yourself in his way.

“If you continue walking along the path, you’ll find your way back,” you advised with a small smile.

“Yeah, yeah, I know where I’m going. You just need to stop confusing me by putting your damn house in the way all the time.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “If I promise to try harder, will you consider a map?”

“I don’t need a map.”

“I really don’t agree. I think you should consider a permanent investment in one. Or maybe get a dog that knows your way home.”

He gave you a dirty look. “I’ll find my way back.”

You smiled and watched him begin off down the same path he always took. The one that curved toward the beach. You always used your fruit to return him to wherever he was coming from when he visited but you had to admit, you liked the company, bristly as it might be. Though you did wonder who even needed three swords. Surely, two would suffice.

You returned to writing your note, preparing to send it back once the rag dried.

Sanji’s right, I’m afraid. I can only respond after you’ve sent me something.

I suppose that does mean I’m waiting, in a way, for letters from you but that’s not so bad. I have plenty to do around the house and I’m always trying new things in the garden.

I’m sorry but I don’t have any more of the meat. It’s regional and I doubt I’m still close to the right islands for it. But maybe I can find the name and the next time you sail past, you can try and stop there? I’ll see if I still have a map for it. Or try and figure out which islands I’m close to today.

I’m sorry your island was boring but it’s probably better than having to fight off meat-eating flowers! But I don’t think they would be made of meat because they’re probably still petals to be flowers. Maybe they would grow here though, if I tried hard enough. I’ve managed to get almost anything to grow here.

I hope your next island is more exciting though!

You considered asking if his crew were reading through your letters but you hesitated in case they weren’t and then you seemed rather foolish. Surely, Luffy’s crew had enough adventures to entertain them without worrying about old letters.

Maybe Luffy was just entertaining them with stories while they went through this patch of quiet, heading for their next big journey.

You glanced toward your kitchen drawer, still stuck half out and sighed. That would be your adventure for the day. While you watched, you saw the junk shift angrily up as something else arrived and you sighed. Could it not appear anywhere else?

You sent the rag back later when it was mostly dry, letter wrapped neatly inside.

Sanji found it sitting on the kitchen counter it had been stolen from, tucked quietly against the wall with a letter folded between the fabric. He handed it to Luffy who was halfway through a chunk of meat as a pre-dinner snack.

Luffy unfolded it while still eating, his eyes scanning it rapidly before he frowned. “Oh. You were right.”

Sanji had imagined so. He slid discarded vegetable tops and skins into a pot to boil into stock while he prepared dinner. “About which part?”

“I have to send her something first,” Luffy said. “That’s dumb. What if she wants to say something? Makes sense why she was so worried that one time I didn’t send anything. I thought it was weird she didn’t check in.”

Sanji felt mildly affronted at that. “You stopped writing to her without warning?”

Luffy lowered his meat to his plate which was concerning enough that Sanji slowed his preparations, indignation quietening. The captain stared at the letter instead of the meat briefly, pondering something.

“After Ace,” Luffy said. “I… I didn’t want to write for a bit. I thought when she didn’t send anything, she knew.”

“But she couldn’t send anything,” Sanji concluded. “So, to her, it looked like you’d just disappeared.”

“Yeah. That’s why she was crying so much when I sent her a letter again.”

He looked back at the letter and found the words waiting there felt heavier than they had before. To live alone and only be able to answer when someone remembered to reach for you first... no wonder she had cried. Any lady would. Anyone would, though he would sooner throw himself into the sea than say so aloud.

“Her devil fruit is rather unfairly balanced then,” he concluded.

Luffy put the letter down and went back to eating, seemingly having ignored it for now.

Sanji cleaned his hands and walked over to the table, choosing to let his captain handle the new revelation while he considered the rest of the letter. There was no meat tucked into the cloth so he imagined she had offered a different explanation.

Instead, he found something more confusing.

“Still close?” he repeated aloud. “But she’s on an island. If it was around her once then surely it would be around her still.”

Luffy shrugged. “There’s always new islands around her.”

“How?”

The door swung open far too loudly. Zoro marched in looking vaguely annoyed, a bottle in his hand and sand on his boots. Sanji fixed him with an unimpressed look for traipsing filth into the kitchen.

“Out,” he ordered.

Mosshead ignored him entirely and dropped down next to Luffy. “This island is stupid,” he muttered. “You walk onto the beach and the next thing, you’re back in the town.”

Luffy laughed, seemingly back to normal for now. “Did you get lost again?”

“No,” Zoro snapped in a way that immediately betrayed the truth. “I went looking for somewhere to get a decent drink and ran into that weird woman again. She keeps showing up.”

Sanji rolled his eyes. “This again?”

“Do you want to go there? I remember the exact way.”

“I think we’ve all followed you enough times to know you don’t have the directional ability to take us anywhere,” he said dryly. “Trust me, mosshead, the only woman you might have following you is a bounty hunter. If that.”

“It’s probably all different women with the same hair colour,” Nami said as she walked in, a large paper bag in her arms. “Zoro can only tell the difference between swords. Here.”

Sanji hurried to take the bag from her before her beautiful arms could suffer too much from the weight.

“What’d you get?” Luffy asked.

“It’s some random cut of meat,” she said. “I had to buy something to get the guy to talk to me. I don’t know what it’s good for but I’m sure Sanji will make something with it.”

“With absolute pleasure,” he assured. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”

She nodded, smiling proudly. “The good news is, I know where to find cliff boars. So I can narrow down our search to islands in that area.”

He flinched and Nami, far too smart and observant to miss it, immediately narrowed her eyes at him.

“What?”

Sanji nodded toward the letter on the table. She picked it up slowly, the type of movement more suited to a dangerous woman than a sweet navigator. Though he did admit, she could turn quite intimidating when pushed past the edges of her patience.

Her eyes ran over the words once. Then again. Then she looked to Luffy who had finished polishing the bone.

“What islands she’s close to today?” Nami repeated. “As in, it changes?”

“I think it might be a moving island, Nami-san,” Sanji said.

“What? Like that one where we fought the shadow guy and his giant?” Zoro asked.

Nami lowered the letter back to the table and sighed through her nose. “That was a ship, not an island.”

Her gaze turned to the paper bag Sanji was holding and he hurried to move it into the fridge before she remembered how much money she’d paid for information on an island that didn’t help her investigation in the slightest.

You, though, genuinely couldn’t find out what you were close to through no fault of your own. By evening, the fog had thickened until the garden wall looked unfinished at the edges and the path down to the shore vanished before it reached the first bend. The sea beyond it shifted and breathed in the dark, too loud for water you could not see, and you had never been fond of sailing over black waves that seemed to move underneath you rather than below.

So you’d planned to go to bed early and do your investigation the next morning.

You pulled your covers back, inspected the bed for any strange lumps, and only lay down once you were certain nothing was beneath your pillow.

The moment your weight settled, something cold squelched under your spine.

You jolted upright. Your hand came down on something round and slippery. Another object knocked against your ankle beneath the blanket and you launched yourself out of bed so quickly your heel caught the edge of the rug. For a breath, you simply stood there in the dark, heart hammering, staring at the shape of your bed as though it had betrayed you personally.

Then you pulled the blanket back.

A pile of random objects lay strewn across the mattress, each one damp enough to leave spreading marks on the sheets. All of them tied with wet scraps of paper marked in Luffy’s uneven numbering.

All except for one.

Okay, then here! Don’t respond to them all at the same time but now you have a bunch of letters so if you want to send something first, you don’t have to wait! And if you run out of these, I’ll send more!

For a second, you stared down at the letters and the pile of random objects cast over your bed, each one a small opportunity. A chance to not have to condense all your thoughts into a single letter. A chance to amend if you forgot to include something.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, sudden and warm, because he had understood the problem in the clumsiest, kindest way possible. You wiped them away before they could fall.

You gently picked up each letter and whatever random item they’d been attached to and carried them into the wing of your house. You put the letters out to dry next to their items, heart aching awfully as you did.

Then you picked up the instruction one and the small teacup it had been tied to.

And for the first time ever, you wrote a single line in response.

You’re the sweetest person in the world. Love you.

Because for once, you weren’t scared of what would happen if you didn’t get a reply.

Tag List: @xcarrotxs-blog ; @shijm420 ; @adetolasblog ; @chocolateshortcakesblog ; @miwn8 ; @aceincase ; @chaeisrichnow ; @urbbyfacedangel ; @dear2004 ; @blanktforts ; @shin-ahmonroll ; @stxrpiercer

Any spaces on his skin were brief so you bit your lip hard and bore the heat to grab his shoulder, shaking him as best you could. The flames crept higher and hotter and you snatched your hand back before you could burn.

Panic rolled through you; not from the fire but from his stillness. Something was definitely wrong.

You said his name louder than before, grabbing the blanket to try and smother some of the fire on his face. You tapped his cheek briefly and startled when you found the skin ice cold. So cold it made you jolt back quicker than the fire ever would have. When had he ever been that freezing before?

He was heavy when you tried to push him, body surprisingly unyielding.

“Ace, please.”

Was this because he’d been around for so long?

You’d never kept a spirit around for this long before. You scrambled in your brain for what little knowledge you had about it. There were warnings in your journals but they were about your own safety. Nobody ever mentioned that the soul might fade. Fear clawed through your throat as the flames licked at the pillow under his head.

You couldn’t do this. You refused to lose him now. Not when you were getting so close to the ritual that could finally fix it.

You grabbed his shoulders, desperately, fingers digging in despite the heat, and his eyes snapped open.

The fire extinguished so quickly that the room dropped into darkness before your fear had anywhere to go. Smoke drifted in the space where the flames had been, thin and bitter against your tongue. Beneath your palms, his skin warmed slowly, like heat returning to water left too long in the cold.

Then, Ace moved, sitting up, his arms slipping from your hold as he summoned a small flame to his hand; his face illuminated in dancing gold.

“Hey, what’s – ”

You surged into him without warning, threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck as relief rushed over you. He huffed in surprise for a second, awkwardly looping his free arm around you as the flame in his hand flickered. The arm around you was soothingly warm enough to exhaust the terror from your veins.

For a second, there was absolute quiet as you held your breath, feeling him move beneath your cheek.

Then something hissed against his skin. You startled, reaching up to roughly scrub tears from your eyes. They streaked down your cheeks without your consent, hot and heavy.

“What’s wrong?” Ace’s voice was no longer exhausted; one hand coming up to brush tears away from your wet eyelashes. “Hey, are you okay?”

“It’s kind of silly,” you admitted, your voice sore around your sobbing. “I don’t even know why I’m so scared. It’s just… your flames were out and I couldn’t get you to wake up.”

“Oh,” he said, sounding confused and slightly flattered. “Sorry. I’m a deep sleeper.”

You nodded faintly, trying to calm the rapid fluttering of your heart. He was a deep sleeper. That made sense. Though a small, traitorous part of your brain whispered that you’d never seen him sleep like that before. He always woke up the moment you called for him, even when he was passed out face down.

You were probably imagining it but his eyes looked a little dull in the poor lighting, their brown faintly tinted by grey.

You shook your head before you started worrying more. He was fine.

“I know,” you said finally. “Think I had a bad dream or something before I woke up… why are you smiling like that?”

Ace fought to get rid of the smile, failing before he sighed softly. He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I’m trying to comfort you but also, it’s kind of nice to hear.”

“What?” you asked.

“You were this upset just because I was asleep,” he said. “It’s kind of sweet.”

You huffed and sat back, lightly flicking his arm. “I was upset because you weren’t waking up. That’s normal.”

“Yeah but it’s still good to know.”

You laughed softly at the ridiculousness of it. Really. How did he think somebody would react when the person they’d… Your brain paused. When the person you’d fall in love with didn’t wake up?

The realisation of the word sat tight under your ribs and you straightened slightly. The acknowledgement felt comfortable. You found yourself looking at his grin and no other word suited him better.

“Oh,” you said softly.

“Oh?” he repeated.

You shook your head and smiled at him. “You’re kind of ridiculous sometimes,” you said. “I don’t know why you need more proof that I’d be devastated if something happened to you.”

“What’s going to happen to me?” he asked. “I’m already dead.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly pushed at his shoulder. “Hush.”

He let you push him, falling back onto the bed with a proud smile. Then he opened his arms and patted his chest curiously. “Come on,” he said. “If you sleep on my chest, you’ll know I’m okay. I promise I won’t set you on fire.”

“You can’t promise that.”

But you lay down regardless, head resting on him. You closed your eyes, fully expecting to hear the thump of his heart for a second before realisation caught up to you. It was exactly as he’d said. There was no reassuring beat to listen to. No satisfying rhythm to hear.

You pressed your ear a little harder against him anyway, as though wanting badly enough might invent one.

His arm wrapped around you before you could get too sad, his hand resting atop your hip reassuringly.

“Sorry for scaring you,” he said quietly after the room fell into silence.

You smiled and shifted closer. “Don’t be. It’s not something you can control.”

You managed to get some sleep that night and Ace woke normally the next morning – something that only twisted the knife in your chest about how unresponsive he’d been. You watched him detangle himself, carefully looking for anything unusual amongst his normal movements and finding nothing.

He tilted his head back to look at you. “You’re staring.”

“Admiring,” you said because it was half-true.

Without the injuries on the back of his neck, it was far more comfortable to press kisses against the sun-kissed skin there. His hair tickled your nose as you trailed soft pecks over his shoulders and he huffed, tilting his chin forward to let you continue to lavish attention onto him with a small hum.

The heat curling off his body settled your heart somewhat. How could he ever doubt what you would do to keep him with you?

It was funny to think about.

“You’re handsome,” you hummed. “I’m happy we got rid of those bruises. They make it much easier to kiss you.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder and you met his eyes, searching for any trace of the dullness that had lingered there the night before. You found nothing but a slight fluster, mixed in with something deeper you recognised all too well.

You kissed him before he could put a name to it. Not yet.

“Do you mind if I steal something bigger from you today?” you asked, not mentioning the hole but far too aware of it.

Ace looked wary. “I don’t like you getting hurt for it.”

“Even if it makes you feel better.”

“Especially then.”

You smiled softly at him and pressed a quick kiss to the side of his neck before you straightened. “But it gives you a much better chance of coming back and then you can keep me safe for real.”

He rolled his eyes at you but the easy smile on his face had returned. He was fine, you assured yourself. And soon he would be alive and then you’d be able to hear his heartbeat and feel his flames at your side normally.

Despite Ace’s earlier grumbling, he actually did stretch out on the infirmary bed Marco had taken to the loaned room in the Revolutionary Army’s headquarters. With his arms tossed behind his head, he almost looked as though he was lounging on the beach rather than allowing you to finally take a proper examination of the wound.

“Ask him to take a deep breath,” Marco said. “And then try your hardest to replicate it.”

Ace sighed. “My lungs are fine though.” He inhaled for what was barely a second, more a sharp intake of air than anything else, and released it. “See.”

You didn’t even bother trying to imitate it for Marco, just staring down with your lips pressed together. “That’s… really not a deep breath,” you told him softly. “That was shallower than my normal ones.”

Ace gave you a look and tried it again, this one coming even shorter than the previous. It was rather like a rabbit would breathe. He frowned and tried a third time, getting a little deeper before he suddenly began to cough.

You looked to Marco and he sighed.

“I thought so,” he said. “I had hoped it was just one damaged lung from the position I remembered but there might be another reason. Broken ribs or even his back might have pressed through them both.”

“My lungs aren’t damaged,” Ace protested and he sat up more. He tried to force a deep breath in and you watched as pain immediately shot through his face, rough coughs coming liberally.

You reached out to touch his shoulder immediately. “Hey, it’s okay,” you said. “It’s not a big problem if your lungs are damaged.”

“But I’ve been breathing the whole time,” he defended. “And it’s been fine.”

“Maybe because you don’t technically need the air,” you told him. “You might not have even noticed you weren’t doing it properly before.”

“Yeah, but I’m fine.” He tried to breathe in again and you sighed.

“Ace, please. It’s just going to hurt you.”

“It’s not meant to.”

“Yes but doing it over and over again won’t stop it from hurting.”

Ace sighed and slowly lay back down; brought his hand to his chest and rubbed at the edges of the wound as though that might help it. When it didn’t, he just stared up at the ceiling with a huff. Had he always breathed that quickly? You supposed you’d never thought to look for it before.

“It feels like I’m breathing properly,” he said. “Kind of. It only hurts when I try too hard.”

“You’ve probably gotten used to it,” you said.

His shoulders tightened for a second before he tried just one last time and winced again. “You might be right,” he said. “But it’s not like I had problems with it when I was alive.”

Marco was waiting patiently for you to look back up, staring slightly blankly into the space where Ace’s body would have been. When your eyes met his, he shook his head very minutely as though dragging himself back into the room.

“Do you think, just from looking at it, that there’s anything you could take? Don’t examine it too closely right now.”

You glanced at Ace once and he nodded before you looked closer. It really did seem to be a clean punch, but the closer you looked, the less there was that you thought you could handle.

The absence through his spine was most notable. Technically, his back was missing a whole chunk of itself and there was no way you would handle that. Then there were the much smaller disasters. The burned tissue was probably fine. Though there had to have once been organs where now there was only fused flesh.

Perhaps most importantly though, you could see his ribs. Or at least the edges of at least two. They were shattered, small fragments identifiable even in what remained of his body. Your stomach twisted and you forced yourself to look up at Marco.

“There are a few shattered ribs,” you said. “Maybe what’s causing the breathing?”

“I think the breathing is probably caused by a missing lung,” Marco said. “But… healed ribs would probably be helpful. The only problem is that kind of force probably wouldn’t snap them cleanly in two. They might splinter inward.”

“One less thing to heal,” you offered.

“What? No,” Ace said, immediately straightening. “If they splintered then you’re going to get really hurt by that.”

Marco gave you a flat look. “It could be. The problem is in how your devil fruit reacts. Will it just move the fracture or will it move the pieces too?”

“Probably just the fracture,” you said. “Logically, I mean, they spread out because there was space for them too. My body’s whole so it’ll probably just imitate how the break happened and then hold them in place.”

“I don’t normally like to bet people’s lives on the word probably,” he said.

Ace shifted away from your hand. “There’s something else there,” he said. “Maybe the burns.”

“The burns aren’t enough,” you reminded him.

Marco hummed softly. “The break in your knuckle came over as it was with no other tissue damage?”

“Yes.”

“Then there’s a possibility your theory is correct. Ace’s ribs broke from the back, forward. If I heal them in the same manner, there’s a pretty good chance I could stop any further damage from happening. It also won’t be anywhere close to pain free.”

A flicker of flame danced over Ace’s arms and he shuffled back on the bed. “Woah,” he said. “We are not doing this.”

“You said – ”

“Small things,” Ace said. “Small things are not broken ribs. What if you’re wrong and you’ve suddenly got no rib cage anymore? Or what if it’s too much and Marco can’t heal it in time?”

“I won’t be.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’m willing to bet on it.”

“Well, I’m not!”

You reached out for him, hand hovering in the open space between you as you waited. “It’s a good chance,” you said. “The closer we get to bringing you back, the better everything will be. Your fruit and Marco’s combined can do a lot but we need this to be fixed and it’s far safer than taking like your lung.”

“I doubt you’d be able to do that anyway,” Marco said. “I can’t regenerate organs that have disintegrated.”

“What if the bone’s disintegrated too?” Ace asked.

“It isn’t. I can see that it didn’t.”

For a second, neither of you spoke and then Ace sighed and he lay back on the bed, eyes screwed tightly shut. He brought your hand closer, stopping just before it reached his torso and let it go. You’d have to cover the last few inches yourself.

You looked over your shoulder toward Marco and nodded. He gathered blue flame in his hand, moving closer to your back.

“Try and do it slowly if you can.”

“I will.”

That was a fool’s errand. You pressed your palm above the injury at first and then slid it down until your fingers lingered just inside of it where you could feel the space that should have had ribs and flesh to shield it.

It was a bad injury. As you reached through the barrier it throbbed like lightning before it even slammed into you.

Pain snapped through you so violently that the room vanished for a second. You stumbled back, straight into Marco’s hand but even as he healed, your breath disappeared. Heat and white pain split through your torso and a splintering agony took hold deep in your body. You desperately tried to inhale but your body refused, breaths limited to choked gasps as your knees buckled.

Ace was shouting your name. It was the only sound you could hear over the roar of phoenix flames in your ear.

The bone moved inside you; pulled and strained against your muscles for a second before it began to ebb away. It soaked through your limbs and dripped out like water from your skin as you managed to get a sharp inhale.

Then another.

Ace knelt in front of you, face pale beneath the warmth of his freckles. His hands were around your wrists and the warmth slowly overtook the sensation as his fingers curled and uncurled around your skin.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Got it,” you said, mildly victorious.

“Slowly, or take it all at once,” Marco said. “You two suit each other in that way at least. Absolutely no concept of restraint.”

You chuckled despite yourself, still wincing at the sting. “Didn’t know when I’d get another chance.”

Marco made a sharp, disapproving sound and pressed more flames over your sides.  “It’ll fade,” he said. “You’re lucky I was ready for that.”

“Sorry.”

“Can you breathe?”

You breathed out slowly and then in. It stung. But it worked. “Yes.”

“How does Ace look?”

You dropped your gaze from worried brown eyes to the hole in his chest and a small hiccupping sigh of relief escaped you. You could see his ribs. It was a weird thing to celebrate but you could see them. Awkwardly stretched back but there.

“He has ribs again,” you said.

Ace looked down and immediately pulled a face. “Gross. It looked better before.”

“But it looks healthier now,” you enthused, picking up his hands and squeezing them. “That’s one less thing to worry about.”

He didn’t look as convinced as you were but at your expression, he shook his head and smiled. “You’re ridiculous,” he said. He leaned his forehead against your own. “Absolutely insane.”

“We definitely need a break moving forward,” Marco said. “I wouldn’t want you to risk another big injury before your body’s had time to recover but if this worked… I might be inclined to try something else of a similar nature.”

“Not now,” Ace said.

“No,” you reassured him. “Not now.”

The door opened and you turned your head; Sabo’s voice carrying through before he even looked around the room. “I have potential good news.” He looked at you, crouched on the floor and concern flashed across his expression. “Are you okay?”

“Ace has ribs again,” you said because the answer was your own were still killing you somewhat.

“Uh… great? I think. Scouts just reported seeing a marine ship dock on a nearby island. Looks like they’re resupplying so we have a bit of time.”

You pushed yourself straighter because Sabo wouldn’t bring you information about a random admiral. “Is it him?”

“He’s aboard. I thought I could send in some scouts to handle it but I can’t guarantee they’ll be able to get anything from him. Not safely at least. And I don’t want people to start a fight they don’t have the ability to get out of.”

He had a point. It wasn’t like the admiral was just dripping with his lava constantly. You’d have to get him to use it to collect it but what would he…

You could still feel the ghost of broken ribs beneath your skin when you caught a flicker run over Ace’s skin and his suggestion from weeks ago replayed in your head.

“He’s really quick to temper, right?” you asked. “If we put something behind a wall, he’ll go through it?”

“If it’s something he wants badly enough,” Ace said with gritted teeth.

“But you mentioned your fruit a few days ago,” you said to him. “Maybe it’s not such a bad idea. If he thinks that your fruit has reappeared within his reach, he’d try to retrieve it, right?”

Ace stared at you. “I think so,” he said.

“The Marines definitely want the Flame-Flame Fruit,” Sabo said, his expression tightening. “It’s become a symbol. For more than one side.”

After you arrived on the island, it took you no time at all to find the ship, clustered as it was with men in white coats. The man himself was even easier. He towered above his subordinates, not speaking and yet somehow giving orders as they moved around him, carrying supplies onto the ship with startling efficiency.

You had a fairly simple plan. Approach one of the less-important marines running around and tell them about something you were ‘worried’ about.

With any hope, they’d take the information to the admiral and then you could have Ace prove it by using his flames inside a building that seemed to have a locked door. The revolutionary who handed you the key to one of the warehouses had vanished faster than you even thought possible after giving it to you.

“I think this one is just within my tether,” you said, shoving one of the big metal doors open with your shoulder. “If I’m standing on the dock. When we walk past, just make it seem like somebody’s using your fruit inside.”

Ace didn’t take a step inside. His gaze was still firmly locked on the docks. “What if he doesn’t care?”

“Then we find another way.”

From what you’d quickly been briefed on during your trip here, he was being evaluated for a potential role as fleet admiral. If he took that promotion, you had no way of even beginning to get close enough to him.

Ace still wasn’t moving. “If he realises I’m with you, there’s going to be trouble.”

“Why would he suspect that?” you asked. “It’s not a common devil fruit to be talked about and even those who know about it wouldn’t expect you to have your powers still.”

“Yeah.”

But he didn’t walk. He stayed tight against your side, shoulders drawn almost to his ears. A flicker of flame passed over his skin.

“Maybe,” he said after a second. “We could use this.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can use my fire but he can’t touch me when I’m dead,” Ace theorised slowly. “It could be an opportunity, right? If he tries to hit me, he’ll go straight through me and if you stay out of sight then I can get rid of him.”

You watched the fire curl over his arms and you reached out for him, grabbed his forearm and practically dragged him inside the dusty warehouse.

Old boats swayed above you, chains holding them groaning with exhaustion. You looked warily up at them and then back at Ace.

“That is not a good idea,” you said.

“Why not?”

“So many things could go wrong,” you urged. “What if he finds me? Then any chance you have of coming back will disappear forever.”

You wished Ace would look at you. He was still staring firmly at the wall as though he could see through it to where the admiral stood.

“I won’t let him. This is the best chance I could have.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Ace finally looked at you, expression blank in a way you weren’t certain you liked seeing from him. “I can do more than cause a distraction.”

“We don’t know what will happen if you use your fire over the bond,” you reasoned. “He’s not stupid. He’ll realise there’s probably something else hiding you if you just attack him out of nowhere. He could touch your fire with haki before. What if he could do the same now?”

Ace didn’t have an answer. He just shook his head. “I’m not scared.”

“I never said you were.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

You reached out for him, hands gently coming up to rest against his cheeks as you tilted his face toward you. “Ace,” you said. “This isn’t a plan. We don’t want to fight somebody like that right now.”

“It doesn’t really matter to him if you’re wanting to fight.”

“To him, I’m nobody,” you urged. “I’m just a civilian. I’m not a pirate with a bounty. He won’t even remember my face.”

Ace sighed sharply and ran a hand through his hair. There were no flames, no sparking or guttering. But you could feel the anger rolling fever-hot from his body even without them. There was a part of him wanting revenge. You couldn’t blame him for that.

But it wasn’t the time.

“Fine,” he said. But despite the anger, there was something else there. A fear he named himself even if he pretended otherwise. “If he seems suspicious, you have to leave.”

“Already planning on it.”

You stepped closer and pressed your forehead lightly against his shoulder, just a small touch of reassurance. His arms wrapped around you immediately; far too tight. The way he squeezed you hurt but you didn’t move away.

Then he let you go.

“I hate this plan.”

“I know,” you said.

His hands came up to frame your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks softly as he looked at you. For a second, he didn’t move. Then Ace leaned in and kissed you, hard and warm, his fingers moving to the back of your neck and tightening.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

“Don’t die,” he said. “There’s only room for one ghost here.”

“Soon to be no ghosts,” you said.

“Yeah.”

You squeezed his hand once before you locked the door of the building and began to count your steps as evenly as you could. You were pushing it a little, drawing this far from the tether. Even as you walked you could feel it straining against you, each step trying to drag you back to something more.

You approached one of the marines carefully, trying to look somewhere between nervous and relieved. The former was far from difficult.

“Excuse me,” you said and the man lifted his head.

The marine was clearly young but that was perfect. Young meant new and new meant he probably wasn’t going to be as good at reading you. You glanced over your shoulders and then lowered your voice.

“I’m so sorry to bother you,” you said. “But I was always told I should tell the marines if I see one of those devil fruit things? A couple guys were bringing some into one of the warehouses down here and I think they’re going to try selling them or something.”

He blinked at you.

The Marines generally had little interest in devil fruits unless they were particularly strong but you hoped he wouldn’t outright dismiss your worries. Some of them still believed they were genuinely helping the general population.

“Uh… sure,” he said. “What did the devil fruit look like?”

You made a sphere with your hands. “Well, it was orange,” you said. “And it almost looked like it was on fire.”

“Where did you see it being taken?”

His voice sent a shiver of cold straight through you despite the warm, sunny atmosphere of the docks. For such a big man, you hadn’t even heard him approach, only noticing his shadow alongside yours as you turned.

Admiral Akainu was ridiculously tall. A sense of dread curled deep in your stomach as you tilted your chin up to consider him fully. The anger you should have felt was nothing in comparison to your nerves as he regarded you with far more observation than you cared to see. He didn’t seem like a man who forgot faces.

Maybe you’d misjudged that one.

You swallowed thickly while the marine you’d been speaking to blurted out a panicked greeting.

“I can show you,” you said, trying not to sound meek. “I don’t mean to interrupt important work but I thought it may be of interest.”

“We’ll have to see.” He nodded his chin to you. “Show me.”

You took a small step back before remembering you couldn’t walk backwards the entire way. It took a shocking amount of force to turn your back on him. Something deep in your ribs ached as you took a deep, shaking breath.

Thankfully, the warehouse you approached wasn’t far.

A tornado of flame erupted through the ceiling, tearing into the sky and causing all the soldiers to stumble back and yell. You wasted no time in dodging to the side, hiding behind the nearby crates like the scared civilian you pretended to be.

All the bother with getting a key and Akainu didn’t even try the door.

His fist turned molten as he marched straight through the wall.

Brick, wood, and metal screamed apart beneath him. Boiling rock poured over the alley in a sluggish wave, bright enough that you had to turn your face away for a second. The heat hit you a breath later and stole every thought from your head. It was worse than fire. Fire danced and flickered. Fire lived and moved.

Then Ace’s flames answered.

They exploded from inside the warehouse in a twisting pillar, ripping through the rotten roof hard enough that old beams snapped loose and spun upward in the inferno. The whole building groaned.

Had Ace’s flames always been so powerful?

You shook your mind free of the thoughts before you looked around and knelt.

The lava was still crawling from the ruined wall, thick and slow, blackening at the edges as it cooled. You dropped behind a stack of crates and shoved the metal box toward it with both hands. The heat bit through the sides instantly. You hissed between your teeth but didn’t let go.

The box scraped against the ground, its edge dipping into the molten spill. Red light licked over your fingers. The metal warped almost immediately, bowing inward like soft clay. Your palms burned even through the cloth you had wrapped around them, and for one horrible second, you thought the bottom would give out and spill magma over your feet.

You had it.

Akainu stopped.

You saw it through the gap between the crates. He turned his head slowly around the building, attention tracing over the walls before he looked back. The crate hid the box from his view. It did not hide you.

You made yourself flinch.

It was the only thing you could think to do. You jerked back like you had been caught staring, slammed your shoulder into the crate behind you and let out a small, terrified noise that didn’t take much acting at all. Then you scrambled away from the box just enough to make it seem like the molten spill had frightened you rather than tempted you closer.

One of the younger marines shouted something. Another called for civilians to clear the area.

Akainu’s gaze shifted.

You didn’t waste the gift.

You ducked away immediately, hurrying as far as you could go without yanking against the tether. Nobody followed.

The air dragged through your throat like smoke. You pressed your back against the shaded side of the building and lowered the box carefully onto the ground. The metal had gone soft in places, orange light bleeding through the seams. It wouldn’t hold for long, but it didn’t need to.

That went smoothly. Smoother than you thought it would.

Boots on the ground made you turn your head as Ace approached and for a second, you smiled at him, ready to showcase your win.

But the smile he returned was loose and barely there.

“Ace?” you asked.

He stopped in front of you.

Too close to miss the way his eyes looked straight past your shoulder.

A thick film hung over them again, grey and wrong, swallowing the warm brown you knew so well. It was worse in daylight. Worse when you couldn’t blame the darkness or your panic or the terrible half-sleep of the night before.

“Ace,” you said again, quieter.

He blinked.

The grey began to thin. His eyes warmed by degrees until he was looking at you again. His brows twitched faintly as though he had only just realised you were there.

“Sorry,” he said. “Wasn’t listening. Did you get it?”

“Yes,” you answered. It felt like blades dragging through your throat.

Tag List: @miwn8 ; @infinitely-creative ; @grapeboom ; @baa3baa3 ; @isabelleslastwords ; @sukiraterhouse ; @vicky-minaj ; @thesleepinglion ; @literallyjustvibin23 ; @uroldall ; @urbbyfacedangel ; @aceincase ; @kyomiforest ; @doljjongsmom ; @kermitprime ; @lawpetitemort ; @vvyeislazzy ; @littlebear423 ; @chaebeads ; @itsmugiwarasfault ; @imjustbored02 ; @britheteenagewitch ; @vann3ska ; @iorveth-scoiatael ; @shin-ahmonroll ; @kaidarasu ; @i-need-wafflessss ; @loserbee14

That was then but even now, not much about him drastically changed. He'd like to say it was simply redirected by the curve balls life threw at him, mainly his fiery neighbor turned girlfriend and the bundle of joy that came to him at the most unexpected time.

Somewhere between you going toe-to-toe with him in the hallway, tearing him a new one due to his lack of common decency and his baby nephew crying his eyes out at three in the morning while Sukuna stumbled out of his room and into the nursery, blush pink hair in disarray as he battled to blink sleep out of his eyes to scoop up the infant and console him, the sharp edges of him blunted.

Only for certain people, of course. He was not about to have a change of heart for the world that didn't fucking deserve it. But his friends and family could see how he'd changed.

Bar brawls that gave him an adrenaline rush that made his mind swim were replaced by fighting with strangers over the last box of your favorite cereal or some monster truck toy that was the only one in stock. Excessive alcohol and the occasional snort of drugs were swapped out for juice boxes and play dates with Yuji at a jungle gym he wished had a bigger one for adults with how he fed off his nephew's energy. The old, die hard habit of casual sex was done away with, giving way to something tender that came with lazy mornings tangled in sheets with the woman he couldn't picture his days without.

Despite his short fuse and less than savory temperament, he was a calm and collected man. It's what drew women to him, that charisma and captivating air of confidence. That is until they saw that maybe the stereotypes about bad boys were right when he gave them a glimpse of his anger and foul mouth.

Sukuna wasn't a saint. He had days where he was mean to you, said the wrong thing, snarled and sneered. Instead of shrinking away, you rose to his ire, unafraid and unflinching, sharp tongue lashing out to call him an array of names that would make Satan himself curl up and weep. Women have called him out before but not like this, not in a way that made him think you were more than happy to knock him down a peg when he got too carried away—looked forward to it even. He wouldn't take it well at times, a scowl marring his features as he stomped off, body coiled ready to strike something but never doing so.

And no, you never chased after him to console him and beg for him to not be mad at you. There was no fear of him growing to hate you after a disagreement, not when he started it or needed to get off his high horse. You weren't the kind of couple that became anxious over distance and stretches of silence, having been content in your solidarity enough to know when the other wanted to retreat into their own without finding it offensive or taking it as a personal attack.

You'd like to think that's what made this relationship work so well. There was no need to call and text every day, to be in each other's homes daily, to touch and always be on your best behavior. It's the kind of mutual understanding that comes with knowing each other for far longer than loving one another romantically. Seeing the good, the bad and the ugly and choosing to love each other by accepting and embracing all of it.

Then there were times where you wouldn't bother arguing at all, telling him off if he asked for it but you weren't the exhausting type who went looking for a fight just because you had a bad day or worse—were bored. Nor were you a doormat though he quite enjoyed pushing you around in a completely different way that you both found appealing.

With the care, softness and warmth you had for him, it was only natural that tension and conflict in your relationship was limited to the once in a blue moon mishap or a particularly nasty bout of moodswings on your period that always seemed to trigger his own frustration. A guy could only take being told to shut up when he was merely breathing or simply chewing on something that wasn't even crunchy, your twitching eyes boring into the side of his face. Sukuna thinks his tawny skin would be sunburnt if there was actual heat in your gaze.

Embarrassment came with vulnerability, but Sukuna thought that was stupid. Why play mind games and drop hints about how you feel when you could see someone glow under your adoration when you express your sincere feelings for them? It was human to want to be loved and desired even if he sometimes looked like a demon banished from hell because even the devil couldn't handle his insufferable ass.

His hands always find you in one way or another. Thick arm banding around your shoulder when you were watching a movie, pulling you into his burly body, smiling when you rested your head on his chest and molded against his side even when all your attention was on the movie playing. Long, deft fingers would comb through your hair whenever they could, almost subconsciously. The little content noises that would leave your throat always pooled inside his ribs as it was akin to a cat purring.

You'd ruffle his pink hair, impossibly soft between your fingers and he'd pretend to hate it but press into your palm, earning a kiss to the forehead. When he was feeling down, you'd come from behind, arms looping around his neck as you hugged his back, body flushed to his like a cozy blanket, kisses dotting the side of his head as neither of you spoke, just stared ahead at the waves as the beach always cleared your minds.

There were times he left the damn toilet seat up by accident in his rush to leave or his cup on the coffee table despite your lectures about cleaning up after himself but then you'd hear about someone passing and view such inconveniences as little signs that he was alive and well. Sukuna would lose his mind when strands of your hair would cling to him in the bathroom or be found inside his damn pants but they were like the fallen feathers from an angel's wings, traces of your existence in his home.

Let's not forget the baby that bridged your lives together—Yuji. He's a ball of energy that cannot be contained, ready to bulldoze furniture and fall down, springing up with an excited smile like that was the most exhilarating experience of his two years of life. He was a resilient child, independent as you caught him entertaining himself all on his own which tugged at your heart as you wondered if he was lonely but it's not like he didn't seek either of you out when he did want attention and affection from trusted adults.

Sukuna hates social media and how it twists people's perceptions of reality. Yeah, the reels of bread falling and people getting thrown are funny as fuck but then he'll come across something about watching your kid grow up so fast and crying that they'll want to step out of your shadow soon, still small enough to seek shade in it but big enough to want to explore the world and leave it.

Pretty dramatic way to say they were about to enter kindergarten but that didn't stop it from filling Sukuna's mind with visions of his nephew not needing him as much anymore. Yeah, he thought the kid should be able to do things like tie his laces or wipe his butt but that didn't mean he wanted him to stop seeking him out, big brown eyes filled with wonder as they peered up at the man like he held all the secrets of the universe.

So yes, something died inside Sukuna when Yuji was a few months away from becoming a three-year-old and would squish his face to the car window, breaths fogging it up as he stared at the school they passed, kids laughing and playing during their break time.

“Uncle S'kuna, when can I go to school?” The little boy asks curiously, glancing at the older man who imperceptibly tenses at the question, hands clenching around the steering wheel as he drives the little boy back to Jin's.

“Tch, you're too young for that, kid. We'll talk about it when you grow up,” Sukuna tells him dismissively which makes the toddler's brows bunch as he stares down at the pink tyrannosaur plush in his hold.

“But ‘Gumi and ‘Bara go daycare,” he points out in confusion and Sukuna has to bite his tongue so he doesn't say something like “that's because they're unloved” as he knows it's not true and that their parents are just busy. But it's hard to not want to scare his nephew out of his curiosity.

“If you go there, you can't spend much time with me and Nana anymore,” Sukuna informs him, looking at him through the rearview mirror as if asking, “think you could live with that?”

That has the brown-eyed, salmon-eyed boy curling into himself. Sure, he loved his parents but how could he live without your snuggles and baking, his fun trips with Sukuna and the yummy foods and treats you both make for him? That simply won't do.

Shaking his head, Yuji takes it back, clutching his stuffed animal as his eyes bow and lips pout. “Okay, okay! I won't go now,” he promises, plump cheeks droop.

At that, Sukuna nods and has to wipe off a smile with the back of his hand. His brother and you would have his head for frightening Yuji out of the idea of kindergarten but it's fine. He's got a year to make up for it before the kid actually has to start attending.

“But when you do go,” Sukuna starts, making a turn into the familiar neighborhood leading to Jin's home. “You've got to be tough, be the top dog.” He can already hear you scoffing and calling him stupid, saying that preschool is not a military base. “Don't let anyone push you around. Kick their butts if you must.”

Nodding diligently, Yuji holds his gaze whenever Sukuna shoots him glances through the rearview mirror, the chubby-cheeked toddler all serious as he listens to the pep talk. Sukuna finds it endearing, knowing damn well that he may forget this conversation in the next hour.

Then like it's an afterthought, he adds, “Remember to be kind too, just like your dad and Nana, yeah? Stick up for others but don't let them walk all over you. Be like your uncle, I don't take shit from anyone.”

It would be weird if someone stepped all over him, wouldn't that hurt? Yuji wonders but doesn't ask as he lights up at the mention of you, eyes bright and grin contagious. “Nana!” He exclaims after Sukuna.

Sukuna who was all smug and boastful about not taking shit from anyone goes quiet then rectifies his statement. “That's right. I don't take shit from anyone.” He turns to Yuji as he parks in the driveway, index finger to his lips. “Except Nana.”

That correction was absolutely necessary as Yuji has witnessed Sukuna do the most ridiculous things for you he wouldn't be caught dead doing for another woman. Unless he had a daughter who also wanted to try out new makeup styles on his face. You also make him wear your new girl graphic, baggy tees around the apartment because you like them smelling like him.

Satoru had a field day along with the rest of the group chat when he popped in one day to visit and saw Sukuna in your baby pink oversized, cropped t-shirt that said “Alpha Male” on it with a rainbow in the background. He'd clutched his stomach and guffawed.

Giggling, Yuji shushes himself as if agreeing to keep quiet about this secret but Sukuna knows damn well that the honest kid would spill the beans the next time he sees you. He doesn't mind, it's not like this would be news to you anyway

“Mama! Papa!” The toddler cheers when he sees them waiting for him. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he launches himself at Sukuna, hugging him. “I love you, Kuna. Bye, bye!”

Then he's out of the car while Sukuna sits there with a ghost of a smile, brimming with a balminess that comes from his nephew's generous affection. It rubbed off on him for sure, the random “I love you’s.” It's a habit he picked up from you as you've been saying it to the baby since before he could comprehend words just like you'd call him handsome and a good boy after his showers when you'd sit him on your lap in front of the mirror and gush.

Now Sukuna tells you the same, dropping the L-bomb at the most mundane times. He could be playing a video game while you're reading in another room and the words would flutter from his mouth as easily as a greeting. Saying it often doesn't make it lose its meaning at all. You say it too, like it's reflexive, involuntary like breathing. It's in the way you have him taste a new hot drink you think he'd like. The way you send him songs that he can't listen to without thinking of you. How you point out things in the scenery that he'd find neat.

He picks this up too, sending you texts when he sees something that would pique your interest, snapping pictures when words won't be able to capture it, getting mad when his camera isn't as keen as his eyesight. He catches a glimpse of a fat, blue bird that looks as cute as the ones you coo at in old Disney movies while he's at a lunch meeting and sends you the picture when he's leaving.

Typing too fast, he tends to make mistakes that you find amusing and still understand. Just like now as he captions the pic with a simple “birb.” He also changes your contact name depending on your mood and today it's—

Attitude Problem: Thanks. I can see that.

There you go with those pointed and clinical periods that make the tone of your messages seem strict and stern.

Sukuna: Didn't know if you had your glasses on or not.

Attitude Problem: What makes you think I'd see that tiny ass word and not the big ass picture if I didn't have my glasses on?

Sukuna: Geez, thought you were long-sighted.

Attitude Problem: I'm short-sighted, genius. And you know this.

When you had told him, he'd snorted that everything was short about you, cackling when that earned him a smack upside the head.

Sukuna: Whatever. I'm gonna delete my bird picture. You're rude.

Attitude Problem: Do it then.

Sukuna: I will. Stubborn, gorgeous woman.

Attitude Problem: Stupid, handsome man.

Sukuna: You're getting punched in the mouth

He hits send then goes to add “with my mouth” but the second message doesn't go through for some fucking reason. ⓘ Not delivered glaring at him in red. A sadistic stroke of bad luck that has his eyes widening and his blood pressure skyrocketing at how quickly you read it and respond in kind.

Attitude Problem: The fuck? I wish you'd try.

Sukuna: WITH MY MOUTH BABY, SEE <attaches screenshot>

He knows you're not kidding, having heard from one of your friends about how you'd doused a shitty ex in ice water in the middle of winter while he was asleep when he'd called you a bitch, flipped another guy off your bed when he tried to stay after a one-night stand by lifting the fucking mattress and your favorite frying pan had dents in it that made the thing a heart-shaped mould for pancakes.

Holding his breath and suddenly becoming a religious man, he prays to whatever is out there to be merciful on him just this once. Who knows what you'd do—shave his head while he's asleep, run him over with your car or drive you both into a fucking lake. His phone buzzes before he can come up with a thousand ways to die.

Attitude Problem: You're lucky. I'd kill you.

Sukuna: I'd never dream of doing such a thing. Can we replace that double L at the end of that word with double S instead?

Attitude Problem: We'll see when you get home.

Exhaling a harsh, relieved breath, he relaxes, slumping in the driver seat of his car as he loosens his tie that now feels constricting. His temple is damp and there's a trickle of sweat from the panic running down his back. Never again would he try to build suspense like that over text.

.

.

.

Under the flashing lights of the nightclub, Sukuna sits at the bar counter, surveying the bustling crowd and their chatter with an air of utter boredom but his crimson eyes catch alight each time they land on where you're dancing. Carefree, beautiful and with the grace of a feline, your hips sway, hands in your hair, smile wide and enthralling.

Eyes are drawn to you, it's not a surprise to anyone but you're in your own little world and Sukuna is more than happy to be an observer who scares off anyone that dares to intrude. Sometimes he dances with you but watching it has always been a favorite pastime of his.

“Gorgeous, isn't she?” A voice asks from beside him. A stranger. A man. Who looks just as enamored by you, brown eyes starstruck and lips parted in awe.

Now, here's the thing—Sukuna is not a possessive, controlling plague of a boyfriend. So he isn't quick to stake his claim by exerting dominance and banging his fists on his chest like some silverback gorilla. Instead, he smiles in agreement, sipping his bourbon.

“Fucking stunning.” he chimes in, the guy giving him a grin like they're brothers in arms or something. He's not bad looking, around Sukuna's height, just a tad leaner and shorter, no tattoos or piercings in sight. All the makings of a boy-next-door as he introduces himself as Julian.

Down to the bashfulness too as he grimaces lightly, scratching the back of his head, looking to Sukuna for advice that he can tell an experienced man such as himself has. “Do you think she's single?”

There it is. Sukuna slides him a bemused glance out of the corner of his eyes, carmine irises flickering with teasing as he ribs the man with a playful nudge. “Oh? Looking to try your luck?”

Blushing, the pink strobe lights wash the colour out of Julian's cheeks as he shrugs, glancing down at his shoes. He's dressed up well, not like the idiots here who throw on a regular shirt and jeans while the women are rocking jaw-dropping outfits chosen solely for nights like this. Sukuna thinks he'd be just your type, the kind of guy he'd seen you chat up in the past.

“Uh, yeah. Just don't know if a pretty girl like her would give me the time of day,” he admits, unknowingly confiding in the enemy.

Humming with an solemn, understanding expression, Sukuna looks at you as you're oblivious to the conversation and he makes sure no creeps are lurking before his eyes fall back on Julian and he nods toward you.

“You'll never know unless you try, right? The only way out is through, bud,” he tells him, egging the man on, encouraging him to pursue you like some sort of unlikely wingman or a personality-hire cupid.

Julian's brows raise, expression brightening as this laid-back man who's terrifyingly ripped, all tattoos, sharp features and strikingly pink hair, shows faith in him. As it would any man, it spurs him on, his confidence building as he downs his drink and moves to approach you.

And it's a good thing he worked up his courage to because when he turns to the dance floor, his brain short circuits as he sees you coming towards him. Oh my gosh, was the feeling mutual? Did you have an interest in him too?

Spotting the stranger beside Sukuna, you shoot him a friendly smile, bubbly as ever after dancing your heart out. “Hi,” you greet over the music, passing Sukuna to grab your drink from the counter and take a swig of it.

Palms sweaty, Julian decides that a handshake would do him no good. He's also reeling from how sweet and smooth your voice is, decadent scent beckoning him in to get a deeper whiff but he resists. Instead, he introduces himself and thinks your name is as lovely as you are when you tell him it.

“Sorry, you're, uh, so pretty. I'm sure you get that a lot,” he compliments, unable to help himself as the words just had to be uttered or he'd combust from keeping them in.

Between you, Sukuna is the picture of an innocent bystander, witnessing the scene quietly as he nods at Julian, urging him to continue. “Nonsense, I'm sure she wouldn't mind hearing it again.”

You know exactly what your scheming boyfriend is doing but humor him because he's definitely tired of the lack of entertainment in this establishment.

“Thank you,” you accept the compliment, lips tugging up into a glossy smile that has Julian's gaze dropping there. Quickly, he brings it back up.

“Would you like to dance?” he asks, gesturing to the dance floor as a song you like comes on. But then your nose wrinkles lightly as you smile apologetically and his hopes dim.

“Sorry, I'd love to but I'm beat,” you tell him with a chuckle as you had been out there for a bit, the sweat on your body light but enough to sparkle like a sky full of stars.

“Ah, no worries,” Julian takes it in stride. “Maybe another time then? Can I perhaps get your number?”

The smile on your face gets smaller, sympathetic as you scrunch up one side of it like it'll soften the blow of your rejection. His shoulders droop and if he had dog ears, they'd follow suit as he nods, completely understanding your feelings.

And that's when Sukuna chuckles, the sound good-natured as he pats Julian on the back. “Ah, don't worry about it, man. My stepsister is just hard to get. I really thought she'd be into you thought.”

Stepsister? Julian thinks, glancing between you two. Lips thinning, you want to elbow Sukuna for this new title he gave you, you nod.

“Oh, I see,” he huffs out a breath. Perhaps he could befriend Sukuna to get closer to you, seeing as you two are step siblings and all.

Though his thoughts stutter to an abrupt halt like a train screeching to a stop unexpectedly when Sukuna's arm slides around your waist and pulls you against him. You go easily too like he's done it a thousand times before. That's…that's okay. Some siblings are just close, are they not?

“So your parents got married? Your mom and her dad or—” His question dies a swift death when the offensively pink-haired man cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a very inappropriate kiss.

It's all slow and confident and incredibly shocking but Julian can't tear his eyes away like he's an onlooker watching a car crash happen right before him. Unmoving. Unblinking. Unflinching.

With a soft, sticky smack, the grinning devil breaks away and you look a little dazed, smiling anyway as your lipstick shimmers on his lips. He doesn't wipe it off as he turns to a pale Julian.

“Hmm? Our parents? Oh yeah, it's complicated,” he replies casually like the man before him isn't at a loss for words, flustered and stuttering.

Then Sukuna tilts his head, eyes squinting as he really thinks about it and shakes his head, deciding better. “Nah, not really. You see, we were dating before our folks even met. Got together first actually so to be fair, I called dibs on her first, you know?”

Dumbfounded, Julian blinks like he's recalibrating, a robot who just got told that their flawless code and engineering was wrong. “Uh, I suppose so.”

Exasperation, embarrassment and reluctant amusement colour your face which you hid behind the rim of your glass. You resist an eyeroll as Sukuna sighs as if lamenting his own unfortunate situation but you're accustomed to being an accomplice to whatever nonsense he spouts like they're pure facts.

“That's my guy. See, I knew you'd get it. Who could resist this gorgeous face?” Sukuna nips at your jaw and it's electric but from Julian's perspective it's way too intimate for family, step or not.

“Ahaha,” he awkwardly forces a laugh that sounds more like a whimper as if he's pained by this taboo trope coming to life in front of him. “No one. Oh, my friends are calling. I've got to go. I wish you all the best,” he left right after the greeting.

Shoving your boyfriend lightly, you step away as he laughs like he's the funniest thing on the face of the planet. Frowning lightly, you can barely hide your humorous gaze as you shake your head. “You're a fucking asshole.”

“Don't be mean and come give me another kiss,” he croons, dragging you in again, humming at the way you melt into him when his tongue licks at yours. “Step sis,” he murmurs and you blow a raspberry into his lips, making him sputter and pull back, barking out another laugh.

You don't know what flirting with you by telling lies does for him but it's clearly rewarding as fuck with how he's so damn pleased with himself, giggling about it on your way home and all into the next week.

Despite your disapproval, you're evidently amused. So when he crowds you against the kitchen island one afternoon while you're wiping down the counter top, you give a theatrical gasp when he rubs his growing bulge against your ass, slotting his erection between your cheeks.

“What are you doing, Step Bro?” you asked in mock shock, voice pitching higher and he dropped his forehead against your shoulder with a pained groan that had you biting back a chuckle.

“Don't say shit like that, I'll go soft,” he grumbles against your skin, nipping at it and smacking your ass before making you squeal out a laugh when he hiked up the hem of your dress and pushed down his pants, bending you over and plunging inside you.

And you try to return the favor when women come to flirt with him, be it at the mall, on a night out or just taking a stroll around the city. They act like you're his friend at times or approach him when you step away and you're all the more happy to watch how he reacts, see if he plays along but no, he doesn't.

Most of the time, he doesn't have to say a single word. He would just look at them. Not a glare, not a hint of anger in his scarlet irises. Just a long, unnervingly blank stare like an unassuming polar bear right before it starts eating you alive or like someone studying a bug under glass. It worked well. Too well. Most people faltered mid-sentence, laughed at their expense and excused themselves hurriedly.

.

.

.

To be loved is to be seen as they say, so when Sukuna's favorite watch stops working and he just puts it away with no fuss, you don't take that lying down. That's why when he's out for the day, you retrieve it from the drawer of his nightstand and take it to get fixed.

You’d gone alone to get his watch repaired—the vintage one he wore daily, sometimes even fell asleep with, the one he never replaced even though the clasp had started sticking.

The brunette woman behind the counter froze when she saw it. Her eyes flicked from the watch to you. “Where did you get this?”

“It’s my boyfriend’s,” you said easily.

There was a beat too long before she smiled. “Oh. Sukuna.”

Her mouth is curved, nostalgic and a little sad when you nod in confirmation. “He always loved that watch. I gave it to him.”

Of course she did.

You paused. You weren’t stupid. You’d seen the old group photos once—by accident. Same sharp cheekbones. Same careful eyeliner. Same smile.

Ah.

So this was an ex of his.

She asked about him casually. Too casually. How he’d been. If he still worked in the same field. If he still drank his coffee black.

You answered politely, neutral. You weren’t the jealous type. You’d never felt threatened by ghosts.

Still, as she handled the watch, you found yourself thinking: He must’ve been nice to her. Patient, maybe. Softer than he lets on. She probably saw sides of him you do now.

The thought lingered longer than you liked.

A few days later, you were picking up the watch when you saw a flash of coral pink hair through the store window, walking past.

You ducked. It was instinctive and mortifying. Then you peeked up carefully.

He was gone.

Relieved, you straightened—

“What are we looking for?”

You jumped a full inch off the floor like a spooked cat, whirling around. He was right behind you, brow slightly raised.

“Nothing,” you said quickly. “I dropped an earring once. Reflex.”

He didn’t look convinced, but he let it go.

The woman—Yorozu—recognized him immediately. You braced yourself, expecting a softening of recognition. A nickname. A shared smile full of history.

It never came.

“Hi,” she greeted politely.

“Hello,” he replied, distant.

There was no warmth or nostalgia or shift in posture. It was like they were strangers at a bank.

He didn’t linger. Didn’t ask about her life. Didn’t volunteer his. When you left, he slid his hand into yours like always.

You watched her more than him. There was something brittle behind her smile. Something measuring.

You waited until you were halfway to the car before casually asking, “You dated her?”

He shrugged. “For a bit. Didn’t work out.”

That was it and it was enough for you.

You found out later in passing—from Suguru—that he’d been insufferable with Yorozu. Cold. Distant. Sharp-edged in ways he’d long since sanded down.

She hadn’t gotten this version of him like you thought she did. The longing in her gaze back at the jewelry store told you she wished she did.

The grocery store was apparently your turn to encounter your past hauntings.

You were pushing the cart with the energetic three-year-old, Yuji, standing inside it, hands gripping the edge, chanting about dinosaurs.

Sukuna hated the toy aisle. The lights flashed. Music blared. It was chaos.

You loved it for how the toddler's face lit up whenever he saw it, full of awe and childlike wonder.

“Five minutes,” your boyfriend muttered, dropping a kiss to your temple before veering off. “I’m getting vegetables before I lose my hearing.”

You grinned as you heard him mumble something about psychological warfare and steered straight toward the roaring display of plastic dinosaurs.

You were crouched down comparing two triceratops when you heard your name.

You looked up.

And there he was.

Your ex-boyfriend.

Familiar brown hair, warm eyes behind boxy glasses, face sharper and body broadened like the years carved him into an older, wiser version of the man you dated throughout college and a little after that.

He had a baby strapped to his chest, tiny socked feet dangling, one missing. There was a wedding band glinting on his finger. He looked good—softer somehow.

He stared at you. Then at the toddler in your cart.

“Mama!” the little boy squealed, still mixing up his m's and n's in that adorable voice of his.

Your ex’s expression shifted—shock, confusion, something like heartbreak wrapped in politeness.

“I—wow,” he breathed, finding his words. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

You had broken up because he wanted marriage. Children. A house filled with noise. You had wanted your career. Your freedom. You’d looked at his dream and seen a trap. Felt suffocated whenever he'd mention baby names or buy another pair of little shoes to add to the collection on his shelf, wanted to scream when his gaze would linger on your tummy like it held the answers to all his prayers.

Now here he was, living it.

“This is my daughter, Mira,” he introduced gently and the corner of your mouth tugged into a nostalgic smile at the name he'd always loved finally finding its precious owner.

The baby had his eyes but her olive brown skin and curls told you that she was the sweetest version of her mother. “She’s beautiful.”

He glanced again at Yuji who was waving at the baby and making her giggle with his enthusiasm. “And this is…?”

You opened your mouth.

Nothing came out.

You’d helped raise this child since he was six months old. You knew his allergies, his favorite bedtime story, the exact angle he liked his sandwiches cut.

But he wasn’t yours—not biologically, at least.

Yet you forgot to say that as you ruffled his soft hair, smiling fondly. “This is Yuji.”

“Oh,” your ex said, eyes glassy-soft. “I didn’t know.”

You cringed. “It’s complicated.”

He nodded slowly, gaze lingering on the little boy.

“Hi! Miwa is very cute!” Yuji compliments.

He smiled, and there it was—that soft, happy sadness. Not regret exactly. Just the ghost of a path not taken.

“This is what I wanted,” he admitted quietly.

You knew, he’d never hidden it.

“I’m glad,” you said honestly.

Having healed from the past, the scene before you only filled you with happiness for him and yourself—both having found the lives you wanted.

You talked. Awkward. Friendly. Safe. He told you about his wife. His home. How tired he always was but how it was worth it.

Footsteps approached, heavy and familiar.

Your boyfriend appeared at your side, holding a bag of apples and another of carrots.

He looked like a grown, sharper version of the rounder, smaller boy in your cart—same pink hair, same stubborn mouth and even the twin crescent shape birthmarks under their eyes matched.

Your ex noticed. Something shifted in his expression. He assumed and it was hard not to since everyone did.

“Hi,” your ex said politely, offering a hand. “I’m—”

He introduced himself.

Sukuna shook it, just as cordial. “Nice to meet you.”

The baby squeaked, gracing Sukuna with a gummy smile as she clutched her father's shirt in her little fist. Some kids were scared of him but she found him interesting if her round eyes and shyness were anything to go by.

The toddler tugged your sleeve. “I want the teratops dino!”

Your ex’s gaze flicked between you and the child one last time.

“Well,” he said softly. “I’m glad you’re… happy.”

“You too.”

He left shortly after and Sukuna watched him go.

The second he was out of earshot, his jaw tightened. “He seemed cozy.”

“He was being polite.”

“He was looking at you like you were unfinished business,” he huffed then added, “Baby was super adorable though.”

“She is.” You stopped the cart. “You didn’t tell me about your ex-girlfriend from the jewelry store.”

He went still. “You knew?”

“I figured it out.”

A quiet beat passed between you.

“We were young,” he said finally. “I was not the best boyfriend. Not something I'm proud of admitting.”

“Yeah, I wasn't anything great either. I think he would've saved himself a lot of heartbreak if I left when he first mentioned starting a family.”

“You wanted different things,” he stated, already being able to tell as much.

“I thought wanting what he wanted meant losing myself.”

“And now?”

You cupped his cheek with one hand.

“Now I want you. However that looks.”

His shoulders loosened.

“I was an ass,” he admitted quietly. “Back then. With her.”

“I know.”

He blinked. “You do?”

“I found out.”

He blows out a breath, finally able to get this off his chest. “I didn’t know how to love someone. I thought being detached made me cooler.”

“And now?”

“Now I stare at men until they flee and let my girlfriend verbally dismantle them.”

Your hand slipped from his cheek and reached for his hand over the cart handle. He squeezed yours reassuringly.

“No lingering feelings?” he asked, something tender and vulnerable in his carmine eyes.

You gave a single shake of your head. “None. You?”

His face breaks into a grin, that confidence in him returning. “Not even a shadow.”

The boy in the cart held up a plastic Tyrannosaurus triumphantly.

It was a warm, wholesome moment that was rudely interrupted when the kids' pop songs blasted through the speakers again, making him cuss while you winced.

Your boyfriend sighed at the blaring music and flashing lights while Yuji did a little happy dance in the cart, wiggling.

Snickering at the sight, you ensured the toddler had the toys he wanted before putting Sukuna out of his misery and steering them out of the aisle.

note: i'm crying you can tell this was written on different days lmaooo

For the first time, you faced a different problem. Your tummy was spilling out of the waistband like too much batter rising in a muffin tray and the denim was too tight around your thighs despite the jeans being your usual size. You had jumped and shimmied while Utahime attempted to tuck your belly into your waistband.

“Don't give up so soon,” Shoko grunts as she tugs at the zipper, one heel braced against the stall wall as Utahime holds either side of your fly together.

The pants and sighs coming from your dressing room must have sounded suspicious as one of the staff came to check on you three a few times. You couldn't possibly understand why given that this space was too cramped to even think of doing anything indecent.

“You're going to hurt yourself. Stop.” You pull Shoko's hand away gently, seeing as both she and Utahime are now red in the face from the workout this was.

Don't even ask about the dress you had tried on prior. You felt like a Victorian being cinched into a corset that threatened to break your ribs.

Heaving, your best friends finally surrendered with twin deep exhales.

“I don't understand,” Utahime began with the shake of her head like it was unfathomable. “They usually fit. You're not one to gain weight easily so why now?”

Shrugging, you sigh. “Grown woman body or whatever they say. I'm probably bloated is all.”

Twisting in front of the mirror, you turn this way and that, movement restricted by the confining denim. They were so nice and fit everywhere except where it counted.

“Whatever,” Shoko dismisses. “Sizing isn't consistent anyway, it could just be the cut. Happens all the time.”

Utahime nods in agreement and steps out, curtain hiding her from view. “I'll go get one size bigger and see how that goes.”

She steps in with a new pair a few minutes later and this one is well behaved, sliding up your legs with no resistance, zipping up smoothly like it was always meant to be. The fit was comfortable and freeing. You wore the article of clothing rather than it wearing you.

“Yeah, that's definitely the one,” Shoko compliments.

“Congrats on your grown woman body,” Utahime quips in amusement.

With a clap, you beam. “This calls for celebratory dessert!” You announce as if those desserts aren't the reason you're in this situation in the first place.

Your mood isn't ruined by the change. Weight fluctuates and that's completely okay. Body image wasn't something you struggled with since you grew to accept that you were in this form for the rest of your life so you just did what you could to sculpt it into something you loved.

A pouch of fat hanging over the waistband of your undies wouldn't put you off. You'd just go to the gym more and eat better. It wasn't a train smash.

Thus you don't give it much thought after that, sitting in the café with your friends, the scent of roasted coffee beans and decadent chocolate wafting in the air as you scoop a spoonful of tiramisu into your mouth.

“How's Yuji?” Utahime asks as she stirs sugar into her iced coffee and you hum.

Eyes lighting up, you smile at the mention of the three-year-old. “He's great as always. Kid's already learned to ride a bike. Sukuna was a little miffed ‘cause he was bragging about learning to ride one on the first try when he was four.”

Shoko scoffs as that's typical Sukuna, competing with a child about his achievements.

“He's also started calling himself “Nephewji” because Sukuna insists that he calls him Uncle Sukuna,” you chuckle as you recall that.

The man's got a lot to say for someone who still responds when Yuji says “Dad” before he embarrassingly realises that the little boy is talking to his brother and not him. He's glared and told you to shut up when you'd snicker at him for it.

Utahime coos at that. “That's so cute. We'll come visit him soon. Just let us know when he's at yours,” she tells you.

“Sure! Not this weekend though, he's gonna be with his grandpa but we'll have him on Friday for that hockey game.”

“Oh yeah, you're busy on Friday.”

As you nod, your eyes stray to the laptop screen of a college student who's been doing work in the café since before you three got here. There's two articles open.

One is from Vogue and reads, “Is Having a Boyfriend Embarrassing Now?”

That one has you nearly snorting in agreement because you've seen how women are treated like shit these days by undeserving men. It's like there's a curse tied to a woman praising a man because the moment she does, he fucks her over. One second she's singing “my man, my man, my man” on the internet and the very next, she's deadpanning with a quiet, “never mind” after finding out he cheated.

Men are disappointments. It's why you steer clear of them and why you consider yourself a misandrist. Society excuses their violent, unthinkable misdeeds as behaviors and actions that were written into their nature as if that was a fact. You hated it. You hated men.

Except your man because you trained him right and you'll be damned if you let Yuji grow up to be the scum of the earth either.

So no, your gaze sweeps over that article without a second thought. But it lands and sticks onto the next one, your brows twitching.

“HAVING A BOYFRIEND MAKES YOU FAT! Over the years and after studying human mating behavior, scientists have found that…”

That earns an eyeroll from you as you tune out of the conversation about the newest vampire movie that Utahime and Shoko are talking about and whether they think vampire venom has aphrodisiac qualities to it.

You've heard all about “happy weight” people are said to put on in a relationship and you think it must be because their cortisol levels have spiked from their stressful partners or they stopped putting effort into how they look because they have who they want now. To each their own, you're not judging them.

Sukuna comes to mind as you see if he ticks any of those boxes. The only times he has you stressed us when he's picking fights at the grocery store over the last box of his favorite cereal or protein shake, when he's running late while picking up Yuji from Jin and Kaori and your mind automatically assumes the worst accident happen and when he hides around the apartment, incredibly silent and stealthy for a man of his stature, to jump out and fucking scare you.

Even then, you wouldn't say you were troubled to the point of pulling out your hair or throwing a fit. You'd just chew him out for being late, be amused when he argued with strangers and whack him with the nearest object turned weapon when he gave you a fright.

No, the weight gain had to be from his gourmet level cooking and the fact that he hardly ever says no to what you asked for him to make. It was honestly infuriating how great of a cook he is. His only downfall is boiling pasta which you help him with. You can't be that envious because you're the better baker anyway and make him whatever he asks for in return. If your period was around the corner, he was whipping up meals high in iron so you didn't feel miserable, your cramps lessened and you had no breakouts, bloating or fatigue.

Speaking of your period, the man kneads at your hips like you're dough, pulling the dull cramps out of your lower stomach like there was a thread he had to tug at. He never turned the massages into anything sexual though the pampering had you purring and ready to pounce on him anyway.

In conclusion, the “having a boyfriend makes you fat” is a load of bull in your case. You chalk it up to a side effect of the new birth control you had started a month or two back while cursing men for having it easy. It didn't take away your period entirely, you still bleed a bit for at least three days but it's light and nothing like the heavy, messy ones you used to have.

Your cycle is consistent until it isn't. For a few months you'd get it on the exact same day then it'd do a complete shift and come weeks later on the worst day possible. Though it always made you feel a bit more sane after you'd felt like the world was out to get you.

Sukuna would take your yelling and anger in stride, listening intently, scarlet gaze tracking you as you paced and tore him a new one if he so much as left his pillow askew or forgot to put the toilet seat down. He'd take it all in then poke the bear by asking, “have you calmed down now?” which was always met with something coming hurtling towards his head that he dodges more often than a meek nod from you.

In conclusion, there's nothing for you to overthink just because you may have temporarily put on a few pounds.

Still, the fear of developing a beer belly like the deadbeat dad across the street lingers in the back of your mind that night when you're out with your boyfriend and your friends.

He notices but doesn't mention it. You're not much of a social drinker unless you're in the mood for it so you declining alcohol isn't odd.

And after that, you forget about the fitting room and the stupid article that was probably clickbait. The latter might have not even been backed up by actual science and just nonsensical theories made up by gossip columns for engagement.

A hush blankets the bedroom, the quiet sanctuary holding its breath as if any sound would disturb those who had long-awaited this hour. The blinds were closed, streetlight filtering through to stripe the walls in pale gold, lamps on the nightstand off.

Outside, the pitter patter of rain whispers against the windows and roof, covering the low hiss of wheels against the wet pavement as a car rolls past, headlights briefly flitting over the lovers. A blink and it's gone. Laughter rose and vanished somewhere down the block as a radiator ticked softly as if counting down.

The faint taste of wine smears over your tongue, the warmth of skin cooling in the night air as a stubble rasps against your cheek. A quiet hum escapes the man beneath you as your hands map out the familiar, glittery terrain of his inked body that could be mistaken for marble if not for the heat, softness and beat underneath his flesh. Broad shoulders, bulging biceps, back rippling wherever your palms splay.

Bedsprings creak as the headboard teases the wall with touches punctuated by steady thumps. Sweaty skin peels off sweaty skin only to meet with a damp slap a breath later. Hard grunts and soft moans pour from parted lips, breasts bobbing in time with the spring of hair. Up and down, up and down, you move on his lap with slick, squelching bounces.

Aching nipples graze his pecs with an electrifying spark that sizzles all the way down your spine and between your legs, hips stuttering as a sharp, broken gasp cuts through your chest. Your seesawing on his cock melts into rocking over him, airy sighs passing your lips. The flickering pearl of your clit rolls against the trimmed hair on his pelvis as you shudder from the delicious friction while he groans from your gummy walls fluttering around him, suffocating the length of him.

Greedy, calloused hands pet at you, rubbing down your back, kneading at your full hips, fingers tangling in your hair to bare your neck to him so he can suck hickeys into your dewy skin, licking away the saltiness, mouth pulling until it aches and you squirm before he pops off.

“Fuck, I can never get used to this,” Sukuna suck air in through his teeth, unwavering gaze tracing your body like it's the first time all over again.

Glazed eyes regard you ardently, the intimidating crimson of his irises a mellow shade of pink in this lighting. The warmth in them has nothing to do with the streetlights and everything to do with his adoration for the woman making herself feel good on his lap. Taking what she wants, chasing it.

“That's it, baby. Ground down on my cock, make it yours. It's all yours,” he murmurs in affirmation as you hum thickly in response.

Relishing in the way he's taking you in like a devotee to a goddess he's promised himself to, like a moth to a flame, you roll your hips, body meeting him in waves, the softness of your tummy melding to the firmness of his clenching abdomen as the pressure behind your bundle of nerves builds, stomach pooling with heat.

Looping your arms around his neck, you twirl strands of his coral pink hair, ducking your head to dab open-mouthed kisses to the side of his neck, tongue lolling against his skin as you lap at it all the way up to his lips where ravenous kisses are needed more than air. This isn't close enough for either of you, you want to unzip his skin and bury yourself beneath it, tuck yourself away right next to his beating heart and snuggle it.

Dizzy, you break away from the kiss, bracing your hands on his chest as you begin bouncing again, relieved sighs coming from you both. His cock twitches like it always does when he's close and you're as determined to get him there as you are to finish yourself, the taste of release sugary on your tongue as your mouth waters.

Sukuna's licking up the dribbling drool from the corner of your mouth, humming at the sweetness as he grips your hips, blunt nails digging into your skin as he lifts and drops you on his cock, knowing all too well that your thighs are burning from how long you've been at it.

The butterflies lounging in your stomach catch fire, the flames licking lower as you feel your orgasm begin to unfurl within you while your boyfriend smacks your ass, making you jolt. Sucking at your nipples, he nips at them meanly and your back bows with a high-pitched whimper.

His skin crawls pleasantly as your manicured nails drag up the side of his neck, brushing over his pulse before you wrap them around his throat, not squeezing and just holding it as you pick up your pace, gasps and moans trembling with how hard and fast he's bouncing you up and down on his length, cunt gurgling and clamping around him.

What was once lazy and languid like stretching in the morning, feeling your body loosen until you're a boneless heap on the bed is now akin to being a novice mountaineer losing their footing and clambering for the edge of the crumbling cliff, fingers bleeding and nails breaking in their desperation to live—gripping, clawing, grabbing, clinging to any anchor they can find. If you didn't come now, if you didn't grab the rope tossed to you, you'd fall and die.

That's what Sukuna makes sex feel like. Whether it's nice and slow or hard and rough, you swear you wouldn't survive without it. It's why he didn't participate in No Nut November last year, hardly apologetic as he told his friends that he had a girlfriend he couldn't neglect.

Pink bubbles float in your mind as you're suspended in delirium, lightheaded as you're floating on the tantalizing anticipation of an orgasm that's surely going to crash down on you violently like you were being tackled by a linebacker. The soapy sphere grows and grows until it's too large to fit in your head, now encompassing you both in it. Air toasty, scents musky and comforting, bodies sticky, you move as one.

You're close, so close. Sukuna knows how to keep things steady, not changing anything in the environment that may disrupt your impending orgasm. He's always been good at that. So fucking good—

With a throat growl, he snarls, grabbing a fistful of your pudgy belly and squeezing it appreciatively, spellbound by how it wobbles. “Fucking love this little chub of yours.”

And just like that, the bubble pops with a drizzling splatter.

Hand around his neck, your hips slow as your brain short-circuits, eyelashes batting as you scavenge for the sanity you have left in your muddled mind to process what your boyfriend just fixed his mouth to say to you. Sure, you could brush it off as something meaningless muttered in the moment but you're a little too sensitive for that right now.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is unfazed, more than willing to do the work as he picks you up and drops you down on his cock without a care in the world. Until you squeeze at his throat and he pauses, eyes meeting yours, brows creasing in confusion.

“Something wrong, baby?”

“You fucking love this little what of mine?” you ask in a sickly sweet tone that doesn't match your hardened, narrow eyes. It was an opportunity for him to think carefully before responding.

Boyfriend.exe opens his mouth and shuts it, blinking slowly as he tries to figure out what he did wrong fast as your patience was thinning like the blood flow to his brain as you gave his neck an encouraging squeeze. It felt like he had a swimming cap on his head, tight but not constricting and the rubber thing slid off whenever you loosened your hold.

You had his lifeline in your hand, sure. But Sukuna could hardly register the threat when he was into choking, cock threatening to spurt into the condom right then and there as the lack of air just made him all the more aware of how hot, tight and wet you were around him. Smothering him. He reveled in the way the pressure would block out everything else but you, edges of his thought blurred and replaced by sensation then it all came back with a heady, euphoric rush—the sound, light, blood rushing in his ears and his view of you sharpening.

Sukuna makes the mistake of elaborating. Give the guy a break, he's only been doing this serious relationship thing for over a year now, he's bound to step on minefields now and then even if the alarm bells blaring in his head tried to warn him away first.

“Your little chub,” he repeats, rubbing at your belly like your grandfather used to tell you to do to the Laughing Buddha to bring you good luck and happiness except you're not feeling any joy or laughter right now. “It's so sexy. Love me some cushion for the pushing.”

Left eye twitching, visions of you sinking your nails into the sides of his neck like talons and watching him bleed out seem very appealing right now. Unfortunately, you look awful in orange and love the fucker too much.

Deciding to be the bigger person which he clearly fucking thought you were with how he was playing with your slightly hanging pouch, you climb off his lap and rolled out of bed, tugging on the shirt he discarded like it personally offended you. Its owner certainly did.

Gaping, Sukuna watches, at a loss for words. His orgasm dissolves rapidly and rudely just like yours did but you're not as bitter about it as you are about his offensive words.

“Baby, where are you going? I didn't mean it in a bad way, I like a fuller figure as much as the next guy,” he fumbles over his words to explain, cock drooping against his stomach like it was sulking.

Inhaling deeply, you try to cool the simmering heat of anger in your stomach with the air in your lungs. “It'd be better if you stop talking,” you advise as you pad over to the bathroom.

Brows high, Sukuna discards the condom and pulls on his boxers, nearly tripping over his jeans with a cuss as he chases after you.

“Hey, hey, wait. Come on, it wasn't an insult.” Bickering and back and forth insults were tossed between you two all the time with no hard feelings, you both had thick skin and knew the other was only joking. You could take what you put out.

So he's glitching at this sudden, unexpected reaction from you.

Laughing at his excuse, you throw your head back and dread sinks his stomach as he knows that sound is far from humorous. He has half the mind to retreat or at least use something as a shield.

Tilting your head, you look at him with a crazed gaze, smile too wide and toothy. Your messy hair does not help, falling over your face like some entity out of a horror movie.

“It wasn't an insult, huh? What will you call me next then after you basically called me a busted can of biscuits?!”

Jaw dropping, his eyes widen as his temper flares. “Now do not put words in my mouth, woman—”

You're not listening as you step up to him, scowl twisting your pretty features into something scathing as his stomach burns with anxiety.

“You think I'm a beached whale, don't you? A fat cow? An obese dog with hip dysplasia?! Has this been your plan all along?”

Face scrunching, his mouth opens but you promptly cut him off again.

“That's it, isn't it? You want to fatten me up like a turkey to be slaughtered on Thanksgiving! Clog my arteries. Make it harder for me to run away and leave you. No one else will want me like this, you manipulative fuck!”

Your eyes are wet now, nose reddened as tears stream down your face, sobs choking you up as your anger descends into sadness. Or maybe not because Sukuna knows you cry when infuriated and you loathe the fact that you do.

Hands raised, he approaches you like he would a wild animal. “No, no, baby. Let's take it easy, okay? I understand I got you worked up and I take full responsibility for it but that was not my intention.”

Backing away, you shake your head. But Sukuna knows you well enough that you'd be throwing things or yelling now if you didn't want him near you.

“I'm off-putting and ugly now. You just had to point it out. I hate you,” you hiccup, bottom lip jut out as you sniffle, wiping at your stubborn tears.

“I hate me too,” he whispers, voice placating and soothing. “Let me hold my pretty girl.”

Arms spread, he beckons you with a nod but your chin is raised in defiance as you bite your trembling lips and shake your head.

“Please?” His voice is so soft and pleading, gaze imploring you. It tugs at your heart and as if you're steered by the organ, you drag your feet and stuff your face in his chest, crying.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blow up on you. I don't know where it came from, I just—” you're interrupted by a sob and Sukuna hugs you, patting your head and rubbing your back.

You were not fatphobic by any means, having grown up chubby yourself. Some people looked better bigger and rocked it so well. So you really don't know where the fuck this outburst came from.

Reeling from the rapid shifts in your mood, he presses his cheek to your head, kissing it as he comforts you. “No, I'm sorry. I should've never commented on your weight. It's rude,” he says, realising that it was equivalent to asking an older woman her age.

Your body shakes lightly before your breaths steady and you calm down. “You shouldn't have,” you agree and he stifles a smile.

“What do you want me to get you?” he asks as he pulls back, brushing your hair out of your face and cupping your cheeks, stroking them with his thumbs.

“Nothing,” you answer wetly.

There's silence as he wipes away your tears, ever patient, pressing kisses to your cheeks, temple, forehead, chin and nose.

“Some tea would be nice,” you mumble against his lips and there's a tug at the corner of his mouth.

“Mm, anything else?”

“No,” you reply, still sulking.

Releasing you reluctantly, he leaves the bedroom to go make you the tea you asked for, no before you add, “And those digestive biscuits. The ones dipped in chocolate.”

As he's pouring the boiling water into your cup and stirring it, watching the teabag soak and the blend of leaves bleed the clear water a burnt sienna, he ponders as to why you exploded just now. You're sitting on the couch now, flipping through channels like nothing happened.

Shaking his head, he pushes the thoughts away, deciding that it must just be your period coming up as you did get rather moody around that time.

The hockey arena was loud with excited fans and music, everyone relieved that it's finally Friday and beaming as they got to see their favorite teams face off tonight. The air is cold, some folks' beer warming as the constant scrape of skates on ice echo from below.

You, Sukuna, Choso and Yuki are wedged into your row of seats that has one of the best views of the game. Choso's arm is slung lazily around Yuki as she leans in every few minutes, laughing into his shoulder and stealing sips of his soda.

Sukuna and you on the other hand just look like two old friends who'd come together because one had an extra ticket—no hand holding, knees barely brushing as one of you reaches for popcorn or when the crowd surges to its feet. No one would guess that you've been a couple for a year and three months now. That you go home together, do unspeakable things to each other and that his dad sends you birthday cards.

You're not a fan of public displays of affection and Sukuna respects that. He isn't that big on it either, just like he'd rather keep the happenings of your relationship between you two so no one thinks badly of you or him if one of you vents after a fight. It's how you've maintained peace and stayed in the good graces of each other's friends and family. Not that things were hectic anyway.

Even now, you were just laughing, munching on popcorn, bantering and trading commentary on bad calls the teams were making. Though the presence of Yuji did make you two seem closer, the three-year-old on your lap as he sips on his blue raspberry slushie. If anyone didn't know any better, they'd assume you're divorced co-parents who came to this game together for your child.

The three-year-old boy is having a blast, waving a foam finger bigger than his head that incidentally hit his uncle in the face now and then as he watches the match in awe, bouncing on your lap, cheering when the crowd does and booing in time with them too as if he understood what was going on.

“Watch where you put that thing, kid. Could poke my eye out,” Sukuna cautions as if the finger isn't made of foam.

Rolling your eyes, you whisper to Yuji to smack Sukuna again, both of you laughing as the man scowls, harsh features softened by his begrudging affection for you two. It's hard to stay upset when you're both sporting matching jerseys with him.

The lights dim midway through the second period between plays.

“Oh no,” Yuki speaks from beside Choso as you and Sukuna look her way. Smiling with giddiness, she nods towards the jumbotron that flickers to life with the pink spinning heart graphic. “Kiss cam.”

The camera swoops across the crowd—cheering couples leaning in dramatically, a grandmother smacking her startled husband on the cheek, two guys high-fiving before sharing an exaggerated smooch to roaring approval.

And then the heart frame locks on your section.

Choso and Yuki are first. She beams, tugging her dark-haired boyfriend down by his collar. His eyes widen in surprise then he grins and kisses her easily while you cover Yuji's eyes, the crowd whooping as they break apart, cheesing.

Then the camera slides one seat over as Yuji tugs your hand off his eyes.

Heat crawls up your neck. Sukuna and you don't do this. Not at parties, weddings or even on dates. It's always done behind the tinted windows of his car, in corners he'd drag you to when he couldn't wait to go home or in the comfort of your apartments. It wasn't a rule so much as an unspoken understanding: some things were just for you.

Sukuna does not hesitate. Grinning at the screen, he turns his baseball cap backwards with one smooth motion, taking off your one as well as he dips his head towards you. Hand coming to your cheek, he shields your mouth from the camera. Then he kisses you—slow and confident—hidden from prying eyes and your mortification seeps out of you as you melt into it.

A flurry of shocked giggles break against his mouth as he pulls away, beaming like he just won the match as onlookers cheer, Yuji included.

“You're such a show-off,” you accuse, dazzled.

Your boyfriend shrugs, smug as he winks. “Gotta give the people what they want sometimes.”

The heart graphics swivel, scanning other sections now—some enthusiastic and some awkward couples, bashful strangers, one confused brother and his horrified sister.

A wet smooch is planted on your cheek before you can respond and you gasp, looking at the sheepish toddler on your lap.

“Hey, this is my woman, little man. You can't steal her,” Sukuna grumbles, banding an arm around your shoulders now.

His nephew huffs, shaking his head, petulant.

“Listen here—”

“Don't argue with the kid,” you remind him, unable to take him seriously when he does that and has your sticky gloss on his lips. Chuckling, you reach over and wipe it off.

He moves away with a grunt. “No, I like my lips moisturized.” He smacks them together to make a point and you scoff.

On the ice, the puck drops again.

A wave of nausea starts a few minutes later when Yuki swaps seats with Sukuna now that Choso and Sukuna are on their feet, yelling at the referee like their lives depended on it. You watch your boyfriend pump his fist, scooping up his nephew as they both watch the match.

You're hunched over a paper tray of nachos, squinting at them they've been made to poison you. It sure as hell felt like it with how your stomach churns and the stringy cheese has the popcorn you ate earlier ready to make a reappearance.

It's not the first time something you usually enjoy put you off this week, you just thought you got over this bout of vomiting yesterday.

“Are you okay?” Yuki asks, eyeing you.

Swallowing thickly, you nod. “I'm fine, I just—” You press a palm to your stomach as it bubbles. “I feel gross and tired and everything smells weird.”

Grimacing in solidarity, the blonde woman lowers her soda. “Your period.”

That has you freezing.

You haven't gotten it yet and it's been five days past the due date.

She tenses beside you like she reads your mind. “It's late?”

The woman starts counting on her fingers, listing off the things you'd told her so far. “You've been nauseous for a few days. You said your jeans were tight. You cried because Sukuna finished the orange juice.”

“He drank the last of it and didn't replace it,” you argue defensively. “He knows how much I like it!”

“You called it grounds for a breakup.”

“Sure felt like it.”

Yuki leans closer, gaze heavy with the implications that you have avoided like the plague until now. “Girl.”

Slumping against the backrest of your seat, your voice drops to a whisper. “It can't be that. We've been careful. Like, obsessively careful. It's too soon. We haven't even talked about that.”

The crowd roars around you, a sea of jerseys and foam fingers but you're pale. Sukuna is bristling as his favorite player gets shoved, expression downturned like he's ready to go down there and defend the man before he cackles when his teammates do the same to the other guy.

Sukuna and Choso are down in the lower section now, the older man attempting to explain offsides to Choso while holding the toddler upside down like a sack of potatoes. Yuji shrieks in delight. Sukuna looks like a natural.

“Even if you're careful, there's still a possibility,” Yuki points out, watching Choso steal Yuji away from Sukuna for a dramatic high-five. “You two aren't exactly baby-averse either.”

“That's the point! We've raised Yuji since he was like six months old. He's only three now. That was so recent! Plus we only just got together. Having a…a,” you can't even say it as you shake your head. “There's no way.”

Heads lifting, you both glance at the jumbotron where a baby girl in a tiny jersey waves and flashes the camera a gummy smile. You flinch.

Yuki is having none of this back and forth as she fishes for something in her tote bag and you catch a glimpse of a pharmacy logo on a brown paper bag.

Sucking in a gasp, your brows raise. “You did not.”

“I keep them on hand, okay? I'm not exactly celibate,” she defends. Don't you know it. “Besides they come in handy when you're spiraling like this.”

Ten minutes later, you're cramming into a stadium bathroom stall, balancing two pregnancy tests on the metal toilet paper dispenser like they're defusing bombs.

“Why do you have two as well?” You hiss, the urge to chew on your nails embarrassingly hard to resist.

“Moral support,” she answers like it's obvious.

Tearing open the boxes felt like you were committing a crime once you both were in separate stalls, going through the motions.

“This is insane,” Yuki whisper-yells as you see her shadow under the next stall. “We're taking pregnancy tests at a hockey game.”

“Quite on brand for us actually,” you mutter as there's no such thing as too much information between you.

She could FaceTime you asking you about a freaking ingrown and you'd tell her to point the camera to it or come over so you could look, tweezers ready. Hell, you waxed her in the bathroom of Wasuke's home once when Choso surprised her with tickets to an island getaway for their anniversary—spread eagle as you stripped away at her pubic hair while she bit down on a towel.

After what felt like eternity, you stood side by side at the sinks, four white sticks balanced on a wad of paper towels between you two.

The tests beep at about the same time and you two scream.

“Are you okay in there?!” A concerned man passing by the restrooms shouts from outside.

Eyes squeezing shut, you glance away. “You look.”

“Me? You look!”

Simultaneously, you both look.

You chance a glance at your ones.

One line. Negative.

Hard exhales that are borderline hysterical laughter leave you both as you share a relieved glance.

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh, sagging against the cool tiled wall. “Gosh, okay. Okay! I'm fine. Just overthinking and fucking bloated.”

You could live with that.

Nodding, Yuki shakily turns to look at hers, reaching for them as your eyes land there too.

Blood drains from her face.

“Girl.”

You straighten. “Don't scare me, Yuki.”

She says your name low and trembling.

Eyebrows up to your hairline, you take a step forward, eyes bulging out of their sockets.

Two pink lines. On both sticks.

Blinking, you wait for your eyes to adjust and the results to change. They don't.

“You're not even late,” you muse.

“I know.”

“You've been on the pill since you were like sixteen.”

“I know.”

“You made me take one!”

“I know!” Yuki exclaims, tossing her hands up in exasperation. “Maybe our tests got swapped when we were rinsing them off?”

Face falling, you fix her with an unamused look. “Don't even joke about that,” you were not about to speak pregnancy into existence for yourself.

Carding a hair through her hair, her perfectly straightened strands fall back into place right after, unaffected by her stress.

“I know! I'm just trying to make myself feel better.”

Damn, you got fucking lucky there.

The truth was as much as Sukuna and you were on the ball when it came to using protection, staying on your birth control and wrapping it before he taps it like responsible adults, you're only human.

You're not a stranger to those moments of weakness when the world is asleep and you both wake in the middle of the night or early morning and he gets behind you, murmuring for you to turn to your side. When he's taking you from behind, his cock melts into your gooey cunt and it's so good that you're whimpering and crying. And he cups the side of your face and licks your tears from chin to cheek, murmuring, “Fuck, I'm sorry, baby,” in his gravely voice. There's no condoms then, not when you're dripping with his warm, sticky seed after and he stays buried inside you as he spoons you, drifting off again with you in his arms.

Ahem—back to the situation at hand, you think as you snap out of your memories that warm you down south.

Yuki looks frazzled, pretty face flushed with both fear and excitement. It all feels surreal as you stare at each other while the crowd outside rumbles.

Then there's a crack in the heavy silence as you dissolve into panicked, high-pitched laughter that teeters dangerously close to sobbing.

“Holy shit,” she breathes, sobering. “I'm pregnant.”

“Okay,” you say, gripping her shoulders. “Breathe. In and out, yeah? We don't have to tell them right now.”

“Right now?” Yuki squeaks.

“No! You need to calm down and absorb everything. You can tell Choso once you get checked up and it's confirmed,” you assure her.

That puts her at ease as she relaxes and nods.

Sukuna immediately frowns as you two return to your seats, Yuji asleep in his arms now.

“Everything okay?” he asks, handing you a soda which you were in dire need of. Actually a beer would be better but you were still iffy about alcohol.

“Fine,” you chirp too brightly.

Choso looks between you two. “Why do you both look like you've committed tax fraud?”

Sukuna waves him off. “You know these two. They were probably giving each other taper fades down there and got caught.”

The younger man's cheeks warm and he laughs.

“The bathroom line was just long,” Yuki says quickly.

Exchanging a look, your boyfriends let it go, distracted by the replay of the final goal. Thank God their favorite team won so they're distracted.

Yuki takes the sleeping toddler from his uncle, holding him like he's a teddy bear. You don't blame her, you'd want a cuddle after all that too.

At home that night, you text Yuki.

You: We'll figure it out. You're not alone.

Yuki: Oh my gosh.

Fortunately for Yuki, she doesn't have to stew in her thoughts and spiral alone since the next day, you're all gathered again for a barbecue at Wasuke's house that he insisted on having every other week. Sukuna's family is loud and affectionate, in an aggressive kind of way that you've come to adore.

His dad mans the grill like it was the highest honor. Jin argues about fantasy football. Kaori chases her son around the yard while Yuji wields a rubber dinosaur like a weapon, giggling and dodging his mum's attempts to snatch him up.

Yuki and Choso are nursing their drinks and talking to Sukuna. She opted for the non-alcoholic champagne much to the confusion of the two men. They shrug it off as her following in your footsteps. You two act like sister-in-laws already and the guys find it hard to complain about it.

As you were helping Jin set out plates on the table, your phone buzzed on the other side of it. Sukuna, closer, glanced down automatically.

Yuki: I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE THE PREGNANCY TEST RESULTS LAST NIGHT

His ears start ringing as he freezes, all the chatter and laughter around him muffled by the whooshing of blood in his ears, heart pounding in his throat.

“Pregnancy tests?”

You halt mid-step at your boyfriend's words.

Oh. Shit.

“What?” Your chuckle is too high to be real.

Sukuna is more than happy to turn your phone towards you. The screen displays Yuki's name and a new message preview.

Time stops.

Your boyfriend blinks, eyes blank. “What pregnancy test?”

Wasuke turns slowly. “Who's pregnant?” For an old man, he had a sharp sense of hearing.

Jin drops the burger he was cutting up for Yuji. “Excuse me?”

“PREGANT!” The toddler shouts and claps.

Lunging for your phone, you make a strangled noise when he holds it out of reach. “It's not—”

His eyes never leave you, the crimson of them piercing as things start clicking into place like pieces of a puzzle. Your moodswings, your nausea, the weight gain you've complained about—how did he not see it before?

Sukuna is staring at you, eerily calm. “You're pregnant?”

“No!” You deny way too quickly.

“But Yuki just texted—”

“She just— That's not—”

Choso chokes on air while Yuki looks like she might actually faint.

Setting down the tongs, Sukuna's father looks like he's about to be a judge in a courtroom. “Son.”

“I'm not—” You start.

His brother points to your stomach, eyes understanding behind his rimless glasses. “Is that why you didn't want wine just now?”

“I don't like white wine.”

Yuji tugs at his uncle's jeans. “I have baby?”

“Cousin,” Sukuna corrects, half-listening.

The pink-haired toddler brightens with joy as he cheers, “I have cousin!”

“Not helping, bud,” Kaori mutters, giving Yuji a small smile. Though she is a bit giddy at the thought of a new addition to the family.

Yuji, unperturbed, bounds over to you.

Sukuna musses his hair as he rakes his fingers through it, face contorting in confusion and hurt. The latter squeezes your heart painfully as he looks at you.

He calls your name so softly and a bit betrayed as if you stabbed him in the chest. “Why wouldn't you tell me?”

Jin claps Sukuna on the back, trying to lighten the mood. “Man, that's awesome!”

Wasuke is brimming with pride. “I'll build a crib.”

“There is no crib!” You squeak.

Yuji hugs your leg and you instinctively pet his fluffy hair as he peers up at you hopefully. “You have baby?”

“I do not have baby,” you cry, ready to actually burst into tears from all this misunderstanding.

Yuki suddenly makes a distressed sound. “It's me!”

All heads turn to her.

She stands rigid beside Choso, clutching her phone like her lifeline. “It's not her. It's me. I'm…pregnant.”

Silence crashes over the yard.

Choso blinks. “You're…what?”

“Pregnant, emo boy. Pregnant,” Sukuna provides in exasperation as the word had been tossed around quite a bit this whole time. “I swear he blasts music too loud in those headphones.”

The younger man looks like someone unplugged him. “You're pregnant,” he repeats faintly, certain now.

Yuki nods, eyes wide and terrified.

A beat.

Wasuke cleared his throat. “Well,” he says gently. “That's still a baby.”

Kaori clutches her husband's arm, leaning against his shoulder as she smiles softly at the idea of becoming a grandmother.

Choso huffs out a shaky, nearly hysterical laugh. “A baby,” he echos.

Yuji, who was spawning beside everyone it seems, tugs at Yuki's skirt now. “I be big cousin?”

“Uncle, actually,” Sukuna offers again.

The little boy gasps, jumping. “I be like Uncle S’kuna!”

“At the game last night, I took a test with her,” Yuki explains as she knows everyone is wondering. “It was actually because we were worried that she might be pregnant but, well, it was me. I was going to tell you after I got a check up but—”

Choso cuts off her rambling as he steps forward and pulls her into a much-needed hug.

“I get it. I'm terrified,” he admits into her hair. “But I'm not going anywhere.”

Tears well in Yuki's eyes, the fear of how he'd take it melting away as she slumps in his arms and exhales in pure relief.

Clapping with the others, you beam at them as you ignore your boyfriend's side-eye. “Congratulations!”

Jin suddenly whoops. “I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WITH A KID ANYMORE!”

His wife smacks his arm. “Read the room!”

Everyone swarms the couple with hugs and congratulatory pats on the back while Sukuna falls back with you. Yuji chants “BABY COUSIN” as he runs around the yard.

Sukuna looks at you as you take a swig of his drink as if you just survived war.

“You sure you're not pregnant?” he murmurs.

Swatting him, you glare lightly. “Positive.”

Later, in the car on the drive home, you lean your head against the window.

“Well,” you say. “That was a disaster.”

Sukuna huffs a laugh. “You let my entire family believe you were pregnant for a solid three minutes.”

“I panicked!” You insist. “You didn't help either by jumping to conclusions!”

He reaches over, lacing his fingers with yours. “For the record… I wouldn’t have minded.”

You turn to look at him. “What?”

“If it had been you,” he said quietly. “I mean, yeah, it would’ve been a shock. But… I wouldn’t have freaked out.”

You raise a brow. “You absolutely would have freaked out.”

“Briefly but still,” he admits. “I mean—not right now, necessarily,” he rushes on. “But… I don’t know. I’d build the crib myself. I’d read all the books. I’d get one of those ridiculous baby carriers and pretend I hate it but secretly love it. I’d absolutely teach them terrible jokes.”

You laugh, tension finally cracking. “You are ridiculous.” Though you don't deny that he'd be a good dad, seeing him with Yuji stirred something in you before you even came to love the man.

“I’m serious.”

You squeeze his hand. “Good to know.”

He glances at you, smiling softly. “Good to know,” he echos.

And somewhere in the back of your mind, the idea didn’t feel quite as terrifying as it had the day before.

In the passenger seat, your phone buzzes again.

Yuki: HE JUST GOOGLED ‘HOW BIG IS A 4 WEEK FETUS’ I’M GOING TO PASS OUT

You grin as you type a reply.

You: WELCOME TO PARENTHOOD, GIRL

Sukuna sneaks a glance at you, smiling to himself as he thinks about you carrying his actual baby this time. Honestly, he doubts it'd be all that much different from dealing with you now.

Already, he has to deal with three new cravings of yours a week. You'd text him or just blurt them out at random moments no matter what you two were doing.

“Pizza with hot honey, bagels with grapes and cheese, head, butter chicken with nachos, steak, head, caramel popcorn, spicy tikka with flaming hot doritos, head, sour worms, slushies with vodka, glazed donuts, head, pickles in ice cream.”

He gets them all of course even if he's fucking weirded out. Some do taste good.

Sukuna never lets an opportunity to eat you out pass him by either. Fingers interlocked with yours, he holds your hands, staring up at you through half-lidded eyes as he licks and sucks at you just right so you're gasping and sighing dreamily. When your gazes clash, yours bleary and dazed, you tend to slur out a, “I'm gonna put a baby in you one of these days,” that has him panting out a balmy laugh against your puffy, syrupy folds.

He even had to search for discontinued snacks from your childhood that he wills himself to recreate like green Barney cupcakes were purple frosting and pastel star sprinkles, Danish star-shaped butter biscuits dipped in caramel chocolate, cosmic brownies, some strawberry yogurt ice lolly.

Your cravings aren't limited to food though, you say anything off the top of your head.

“Can I ride your abs? It'd be a lot firmer than my pillow but just soft enough so it doesn't make my pussy ache.” “Wanna bend me over and fuck me real quick? My back is aching.” “Can I use your dick as a mic? Sounds fun.” “I bet I'm stronger than you. Fight me.”

The pampering isn't one sided, of course. You bake his favorite treats especially if he had a bad day, give him a massage that leads to a good fuck only if he wants it to, run him a bubble bath, buy him his favorite games pre-release, give away your lavender plants and avoid buying anything with it because he's allergic, drop off snacks at his workplace and cheer him on when he's playing football with his colleagues on Thursdays. That's not even half of it. It's nice to feel seen and treated tenderly and do the same for the person you love.

He's cheesing like a lovestruck fool now and only snaps out of his daze when you call out to him.

“Ryo,” you start sweetly. “Can we get those cinnamon rolls you got last week?”

There it is. He exhales an amused breath as he checks the time. The bakery will close in an hour but he can get there in fifteen minutes if he takes the shortcuts.

“Sure, baby,” he nods.

Content, you smile and stare ahead, lips twitching.

“Do they have donuts?”

He hums, inclining his head. “I think so.”

“Great! Can I stack them on your di—”

Laughter bursts out of him as he chokes on nothing. “Woman, you're fucking ridiculous.”

You pout.

“...sure.”

note: she's just like me with the cravings lmao

A sour zest of the tangerines you have peeled cling to your fingers as you watch Yuji's attention stray from the movie playing and towards the older, meaner version of him sleeping on the couch. It's a well-deserved nap after the business trip, back-to-back meetings and parties he's gone to in the last two weeks. However, the toddler is used to his uncle being awake in his presence.

His pudgy cheeks seem to droop, brows lowering as his big, brown doe eyes narrow onto Sukuna's sleeping form. Then he's trudging over to him. You're about to open your mouth to stop the two-year-old before pausing. Sukuna has been asleep for a good four hours or so and you know he's made sure to catch up on sleep in the past few days so having Yuji wake him wouldn't be a bad thing.

He raises his hand above Sukuna's open mouth and you realise that he hadn't finished all the tangerine slices from the one you gave him earlier. Clenching his little fist, he squeezes the fruit until it bursts and the juice trickles into the unsuspecting man's mouth. You cover your mouth to hide your gasp and chuckle. It takes a second for the realization to hit obviously because the guy is sleeping but then his eyes shoot open and he sputters, coughing as he looks around, hood falling off.

Face creasing at the tarty sweetness of the fruit on his taste buds, he grimaces. Eyes narrowed into slits, he finds Yuji on his right, smiling sheepishly as he backs away. Sukuna's features drop into a scowl and his nephew tries to make a run for it.

“Oh no, you don't, you little brat,” he grumbles in that groggy, deep voice of his that has Yuji giggling in fear.

Grabbing the toddler's hand, Sukuna snaps his teeth like he's going to bite his fingers off. Yuji screeches and keels, dropping to the ground to crawl away only for a bulky forearm to brace around his midsection and yank him up onto the devil himself.

Kicking and flailing his arms, the toddler shrieks out a “No! No! No!” as Sukuna's chest rumbles with a frighteningly animalistic growl. But the scariness fades as he lays the little boy on his chest, fingers attacking his sides mercilessly as Yuji thrashes back and forth, screams crashing into fits of uncontrollable giggles. He squirms and writhes to get free as Sukuna chuckles darkly at the seemingly harmless torture he's inflicting.

Eventually, his tiny body grows exhausted as Yuji's laughter dissolves into light snores, cheek smooshed to his uncle's chest, limbs spread out in a starfish pose as he rises and falls with his uncle's breaths. The latter has fallen back into his slumber too.

It's quiet now and you take the moment to admire the wholesome sight of the duo as they're napping together peacefully.

But of course someone—the tyrannosaur—has to ruin the moment by lazily popping an eye open, squinting it at you in accusation.

“Stop staring like a creep or you'll be napping here too,” he warns.

Hands up in surrender, you press your lips together to hide your growing smile, going back to watching the movie as you wait for the perfect opportunity to snap a picture of them.

Sukuna won't ever admit it but he wishes those mundane moments with Yuji would last longer. So he could feel the swell in his heart that made it seem too big to be contained in his chest, ease whatever was bothering him and make him melt like cotton candy in a puddle after the rain, all pink, sugary and liquefied.

And he especially wants sleepy, sweet Yuji back now as he tries to wrangle the infuriatingly fast toddler in for a bath after a long, hot day of splashing around at the beach and building sand castles. Sukuna's skin had burned in the shower after all that time in the blazing hot sun but he had a good time with you and his nephew so he couldn't complain much.

The two of them always drew attention when they were out together, looking like the epitome of a father-son duo. Ladies would flutter around Sukuna under the pretext of gushing over Yuji while his uncle caught them staring at him even with their sunglasses on, shades doing nothing to hide how they ogled at his shirtless form. He'd stifle a smirk at how they'd falter and sour when Yuji would call you over, assuming you're his mother and the man was yours.

Sukuna never denied it.

You had kept Yuji entertained so he could shower first then left for your apartment to do the same while he gives the little boy a bath.

Or at least tries too. The menace that nearly comes up to his knees thinks bathtime is the code word for a game of fucking catch with how he's racing around the apartment and looking back to see if his uncle is on his tail.

Sukuna plays along for a bit then grows frustrated when he can't catch the kid. So he taps his foot and waits around the corner for the brat to zoom by then snatches him up and takes him to the bathroom.

“Come on, stinky butt, you gotta get cleaned up,” he tells him as the little boy dangles off his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

No, it's not smooth sailing from there. Getting Yuji in the tub is easy once he sees all his favorite bath toys floating in the water. Sukuna opens the tap and turns around to grab a towel for less than a fucking second. When he faces the tub again, it's brimming with foam, bubbles in the air as Yuji giggles somewhere in the bath like a kid stuck in a ball pit except more fun and safer.

“Crap, where the heck are you, squirt?” he hisses through his teeth while the toddler squeals with delight, water sloshing wherever he is.

Still, Sukuna panics, shoving his hands in the water, shutting off the faucet and feeling around for the toddler. Once he feels little hands grab onto him, he hoists him up, uncaring if water spills out of the bath as he sighs in relief.

Just then the bathroom door opens.

“Hey, have you seen my pho—” Your eyes lift and you halt in your steps at the scene before you.

Yuji, covered in bubbly foam that makes him look both like a cloud and the abominable snowman. Sukuna, holding him, arms glistening with soap suds, white shirt plastered to his upper body, the ink on his arms, chest and abdomen visible through the sopping fabric. Both of them are staring at you as you stare right back.

Slowly, you walk out of the bathroom backward, hand on the door as you begin to close it.

“I'll let you two get back to it. Might need another shower, bud,” you snicker, referring to Sukuna's soapy form as he cusses, knowing you're right.

The door shuts and he frowns at Yuji who gives him that eyelash-batting, head tilted, toothy smile he uses to get out of being scolded or punished.

“Nice try, pal. But that won't work on me,” he smugly states as he empties the tub a bit and resumes actually cleaning up the toddler.

Another thing Sukuna despises is driving with Yuji in the car. Sure his nephew is better behaved when he's strapped securely in his car seat, juice box in hand and visible through the rear view mirror for his uncle to check on, but he demands specific music to be playing.

His current obsession is Lottery by Latte or whatever the artist's name is. It's all your fault. Yuji heard it one too many times while you were having one of your dance parties, spontaneous karaoke nights or while you were getting ready for a night out. The catchy, upbeat music had caught the toddler's attention despite the inappropriate lyrics and he's too young to understand so he supposes it isn't bad.

But playing it at least five times during a drive is annoying even if he drums his fingers against the steering wheel to the beat and nods his head before realising what he's doing and getting annoyed.

“Tch, stupid girl boss song.”

That doesn't explain why he's whistling a tune that sounds an awful lot like that stupid song while pushing the shopping cart through the aisles of the grocery store. Yuji's a good kid but he's still a kid so he does throw tantrums for things he's denied until Sukuna relents and tosses whatever processed, sugary treat he wanted into the cart.

He can't decide what's worse—the tantrums or his nephew cheerfully greeting random strangers who are so taken by him. Sukuna thinks the kid makes himself an easy target with his friendliness. It's why he teaches him to box, kick people in the nuts, bite, scratch and give scary scowls like his intimidating uncle.

“There, now you know how to defend yourself,” he mutters to the toddler while rubbing his aching jaw where Yuji mimicked his uppercut a little too well. “I have to hand it to you, bud. You've got a mean right hook. Lotta potential there. I'll get you back for that when you're older.”

Sukuna tries to include the toddler in all his activities so he's not a bother or bored. The last time he let him do his own thing, he found his expensive body lotion decorating the hallways, turning his floor into a slip and slide by emptying his cup of juice or climbing up on the high furniture.

Thus, when he's feeling nostalgic and decides to play some Rayman, he hands the little boy a disconnected controller and lets him think he's one of the side characters on screen. The colourful lights flash in his wide, awestruck eyes as he fiddles with the buttons like he's actually participating, tubby body tilting with each turn of the character on screen, pulling a chuckle from his uncle who's doing all the work. He high fives him when “they” win.

You join them sometimes but these days it's less frequent as you were promoted at work and are still adjusting to everything. Sukuna doesn't mind taking care of his nephew but he does pop into your apartment now and then with snacks and to see if you want to rant or go out to clear your mind. He enjoys your company and you're without a doubt friends now so it's only given that you two would hang out.

Sukuna always thought you were beautiful, even now after he's witnessed the good, the bad and the ugly after knowing you for over a year. You're so cute when you're lounging around at home, bare-faced and comfortably dressed. You're pretty when you're all dolled up to go out for lunch with your friends. You're incredibly attractive when you're dressed up for a night out with him and your mutual friend group.

Alas, tonight has to take the cake. You're almost unrecognizable as you step out of the elevator, tinkling laughter carrying into the hallway as his and Yuji's heads turn to you.

The lighting seems to shift to cast you in a spotlight. Your dress pours over your frame, a glimmering silhouette and satin lines. The lingering perfume you're wearing makes Sukuna's head spin. You look like you belong in a dim jazz club as the lead singer, captivating the audience with your dazzling smile and melodic voice. Classy and refined.

The man's coat covers your shoulders and does not do your look justice. Your hair is swept over one shoulder, luscious waves flowing down your chest as it's swept behind your other ear, earring twinkling. Lashes kissing your cheeks when you blink and lips a glossy sheen, you chuckle at something your date says that's not funny at all if you ask Sukuna.

“Nana?” Yuji calls out, his pout showing his confusion as he blinks. Looks like his uncle isn't the only one who's unsure that the woman before him is truly you.

Gone was the woman who'd wear joggers and an old shirt, ponytail askew as she chased after him in the apartment. The woman who sports oversized tees with socks and dances around Sukuna's kitchen in the mornings is nowhere to be found either.

Head lifting at the familiar name the toddler has for you, you come to a stop just before your door as you see the uncle and nephew duo about to enter their apartment too, clad in matching hoodies and dark blue jeans down to the exact same sneakers and beanies. Yuji always loves being a carbon copy of Sukuna, and thinks he's way cooler than Jin.

Your straight posture, self-assured stride and the air you carry yourself with as if you're all too aware that you turn heads and know how to wield that to your advantage falters at the sight of them. The faint quirk on your lips, knowing and flirty slips into something softer, your cheeks aglow, gaze dreamy and grin painfully sincere as you beam at Yuji who smiles right back and waves at you.

“Hi, baby!” You greet excitedly, hand lifting to return his wave, wavy hair bouncing with your movements.

“Baby…?” Your date asks, rudely interrupting as Sukuna resists an eyeroll. That'd be rude of him and he wants this guy to be the only jerk for now.

Lips parting, you blink like you just remembered he's here and look at him bashfully. “Ah, yeah. Shiro, this is Yuji and Sukuna. They're my neighbors. The kid I take care of now and then,” you introduce, gesturing between them.

Shiro walks up to them and holds his hand out. Sukuna takes it, unsurprised when the idiot tries to squeeze it in an attempt to exert dominance.

“Nice to meet you, Sukuna. I've heard good things,” Shiro says politely, passive aggressiveness oozing from him behind those spectacles and his pork broth colored hair.

Your neighbor meets him head on with a grin, flashing his teeth like a tiger baring its teeth but it's deceptive enough to come across as a smile. His hand clamps down on Shiro's one, rubbing it so he can feel the bones in the fucker's hand grind together.

Eyes widening slightly, Shiro tenses.

“Likewise but she flatters me too much,” he replies in a low, seemingly friendly voice but his pinprick pupils are a different story as the man swallows thickly and retracts his hand once Sukuna releases it.

Oblivious to the tension between them, you shrug off Shiro's coat and take Yuji from Sukuna, standing in the middle of the men as you bounce the little boy on your hip.

“Say hi, Yuji,” you tell him.

As if suddenly aware of stranger danger, Yuji's lips curl into his mouth after he mumbles a half-assed greeting then ducks his face into your neck. Sukuna cackles in his mind, glad that the little brat is on his side. He sizes Shiro up from where he's towering behind you like a python deciding the best route to devouring its prey.

“Thanks for walking me up, Shiro. You didn't have to,” you tell him as you'd already exchanged your greetings in his car before he insisted on walking you to your door.

You knew he wanted more from the way he was eyeing you up over dinner but you were not up for sleeping with a man on the first date much less one who spoke about his business and how much money he had rather than ask anything meaningful about you. Safe to say, you think this date would be your first and last with him.

But you still remained polite and planned to let him down gently over text.

Shiro gulps, color draining from his face as his forehead beads with sweat. What a wuss, Sukuna thinks with a snort.

You notice and frown in concern. “What's wrong, are you okay?”

“Looks like you're coming down with something, man,” Sukuna chimes in, faking worry as he cocks his head. “Probably should get that checked out.”

Noting the pointed glare in his crimson gaze, Shiro nods vigorously. “Y-Yeah, I'll do that. Thanks for tonight. I'll see you around,” he blurts the words out in a rush before nearly running to the elevator.

Stroking Yuji's hair, you watch him go, befuddled and a little offended. “Damn, was I that shitty of a date?”

Behind you, Sukuna scoffs as he opens the door to his apartment and you step in wordlessly, causing a smirk to pull at his lips. Yuji fell asleep so it's only given that you'd come in to put him down but let the man be delusional for a bit and pretend you're coming back from a date with him instead.

To his surprise, you vent about the date being a total flop and how you were not planning on going on a second one with that self-centered finance bro. Sukuna responded in solidarity, patting your shoulder like a good friend while he secretly grinned like the Cheshire cat, smug that he won't have to see pork broth around you ever again.

“Next time, you can let me know so I can fetch you if it goes south,” he offers.

He's not stupid enough to admit that he's thrown off by you suddenly going on dates and not telling him after you said you doubted you'd entertain men anytime soon just a few weeks back. So he just suggests being there for you if you need a quick escape from another shitty date he hopes never comes.

Besides, you shouldn't be with someone who gets scared and runs for the hills with their tail between their legs when your neighbor scowls at them. How would they protect you drom actual bad guys and criminals then? That won't do and he says as much.

Not to you, of course. You'd bite his head off if you knew he gave Shiro a fright.

Instead he confides in his trusty buddy, Yuji, as he paces up and down in his apartment the next day while the little boy tries and fails to watch the cartoon playing when his brick wall of an uncle keeps blocking his view.

“She went out on a date and came back so late without letting me know beforehand. What if he was a creep and ended up taking advantage of her?! How would I help if I didn't know?”

“Creep?” The toddler repeats, the whole spiel too long for his young self to say.

“I know, right? Got scared of the sight of me too. Must be one of those abusers who cower when another man confronts them.”

“Scared of me?” Yuji tilts his head.

“Not you—Well, I guess you are quite scary when you frown like that.”

That earns an exaggerated frown from him. “I'm a naughty boy!”

“Damn right you are but that isn't the point. This isn't good for the baby.”

Sukuna rubs his stomach, feeling like he's getting an ulcer from the stress of hypothetical worst case scenarios that could've happened last night but thankfully didn't.

Yuuji points to himself, used to being called a baby. “Me?”

“No, me!”

For the next few days, Sukuna doesn't let you live the date down, mentioning stocks and his offshore bank account just to mess with you until you snap and toss a toy or soft ball at him while he cackles evilly. Yuji copies you and hits him square in the chest with a rubber dinosaur.

“It's not like you're any better. At least I try to go on dates and get to know people instead of going on one and then sleeping with the woman,” you accuse when he tells your friend group about it during your weekly bar hop.

His smile drops into a light scowl at that, pointing at you with his glass. “That's not true. I can totally go on a date without hooking up after. Maybe you're feeling some type of way because you can't do a one night stand without catching feelings.”

That has you bristling. “I could. I just refuse to.”

Rolling his eyes, he takes a swig of his bourbon. “Right.”

Annoyed that he doesn't believe you, you set your margarita down and level him with a determined stare. “I could seduce anyone I wanted.”

Snorting, his brows bounce. “Yeah, you couldn't seduce a hooker.”

As much as he's stating all of his claims like they're non-negotiable facts, Sukuna does not know that for sure. He'll just keep talking shit to rile you up so he can grin in the face of your wrath.

The sharp glare you give him is a complete contrast to how you were laughing a little too loudly with a guy at the bar counter earlier, scoring free drinks for your table.

“Wanna bet?”

His tongue rolls in his cheek as he holds your gaze, his own sparking with something mischievous.

“I'm listening,” he murmurs while Shoko, Suguru and Satoru's interests pique as they listen in.

It's too late to back out now so you continue, not even knowing where you're going with this as you tip up your chin. “That I could get more men's numbers tonight than you could women's,” you declare.

Satoru whistles low, leaning in now. “Is that a bet I hear? Why not up the stakes and see who could seduce someone quicker and take them home?”

Lifting a hand at that, Sukuna dismisses the idea with a wave. “Nah, the number thing is better. Wouldn't want this big mouth over here to bite off more than she could chew.”

Your eyes narrow but you don't refute his words. It would be out of your depth to spontaneously go home with someone tonight. Sure, you've done it in the past but that's not something you're fine with doing now.

Raising with hands, Satoru concedes. “Alright then, let's set some rules. It's eight now so we'll make the deadline midnight so it doesn't go on too long. What are the stakes?”

“Loser has to change Yuji's diapers and potty train him for the next month,” you decide. Diaper duty was no fun but trying to teach the toddler to go in the potty was way harder.

Sukuna gets serious like something grave is at stake and you have to hide your smile behind the rim of your glass as you sip your cocktail.

Nodding, he sniffs and agrees. “That's fine with me. So the winner gets to be off diaper duty and potty training for a month?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

His face splits into a grin. “Great, this is too easy.”

Satoru claps. “Let's shake on it then.”

Holding out his hand, Sukuna smirks. “May the best man win.”

Glancing at his hand, you barely touch it before moving away and rising from your seat.

“Oh, I plan to,” you assure him and walk off without letting him reply.

This is not what Sukuna had in mind for tonight. Not by a long shot. He wanted you to get all worked up about his lack of faith in your seduction skills so you'd agree to try and seduce him.

A stupid attempt to get closer to you, sure. But he can't exactly think straight around you when you're all electric and daring on a night out with your bold makeup and short little black dress, your movements all slow and intentional.

For what it's worth, you'd definitely be able to seduce him. Though it wouldn't take much because he'd be so easy for you.

Sensing that he's being watched, he turns to find his three friends smiling at him knowingly. They knew his plan flopped. Biting back a growl, he flips them off then leaves the table too to find his first mark.

Around eleven, you've already gotten over fifty numbers in your phone. Men weren't hard to win over after all. A little attention, intent nods, a few dazzling smiles and some giggles while peering at them with your big bright eyes had them taking your phone from the bar counter before you even asked. Some even forgot Bro Code in their friend groups when you went over to chat them up, all of them punching their digits into your dialing pad.

It wouldn't be this easy on a normal night. Not when Sukuna would be lurking behind you, features drawn in a bored expression that came off threatening without even trying. He didn't mind when you used him as a bodyguard to ward off creeps and unwanted admirers. Tonight though since he was busy trying to win your bet, men were able to flock to you without the shark circling you. But he was still close by like a dark fin cutting through water. Watching. Waiting.

Sukuna's pretty certain that he's winning this bet. Already fantasizing about watching you cuss him out and struggle with getting his nephew to sit and do his business in the red potty he has. The thought has him beaming at the woman he's dancing with. She's hot, has the body of a model, a pretty smile and knows how to charm someone's socks off.

And yet, he finds his gaze straying to where you are even as the woman turns around and grinds on him, his hands hovering over her hips but not touching.

As if you knew he was watching, you caught his gaze over the sea of patrons filling the busy bar at this hour and smirked. He's about to return it when you cup the chin of the man you're talking to and kiss him.

Suddenly Sukuna can't feel anything as he stares dumbly at the scene before him. Then his lip curls, nose wrinkling in disgust at how bad of a kisser the guy is. Way too much tongue. Doesn't know where to put his hands. Barely moves his lips against yours.

What a loser, Sukuna thinks. He's probably a virgin too.

By the time the clock strikes twelve, Sukuna knows you won. That whole kiss thing threw him off his game so he only managed to get like sixty numbers while you had nearly eighty of them.

“Kissing wasn't a part of the bet, though,” he points out.

You lift a shoulder, basking in your victory as you steal a sip of his drink. “There weren't any rules against it.”

His jaw ticks.

“Whatever, it looked like it sucked anyway. Poor guy was probably a virgin.”

Again, you're unfazed while he's simmering inside while keeping up his usual cocky facade.

“Even better. I do enjoy teaching virgins how to please me.”

His shit-eating grin falls at that and reappears on your face as you wink at him. How was that enjoyable? Even an experienced man like Sukuna would be able to learn from you. Quicker in fact.

“Get ready, Ryomen. You're on potty duty for the next month,” you sing before joining Shoko for a dance.

A switch flipped in Sukuna after that night.

All of a sudden he was knocking on your door at seven in the morning, asking if you wanted to go out for breakfast. Bringing you coffee when he knew you were swamped with work. Fixing your bathroom sink efficiently when it was leaking, no smart comments about it being the perfect setup for a porno. He'd offer advice and encouragement when you had a stressful presentation or meeting coming up then be the first to ask how it went and take you out to celebrate after.

It was a lot to take in but it didn't feel bad. Sure, it was strange at first but it's not like he became a sweetheart overnight, he was still a cocky bastard with a gruff exterior. Though you think you were getting too comfortable with his new behaviour, almost expecting him to be there now rather than just happy if he was and fine if he wasn't.

Then, when you were out, you noticed that he didn't flirt with anyone like he used to. Mind you, charisma came like second nature to him. But now there were no lazy smirks, his eyes didn't wander to the beautiful women that passed by, no winks at the waitresses to fluster them.

He was acting like…a taken man.

As if you were his girlfriend without the pressure or expectations of being one. He stopped going out so often on weekends, spending time at your place when Yuji wasn't around, knees touching as you sat on the couch and talked about nothing and everything, content in the comfortable silences. He didn't make a move either so you struck off this potentially being a ploy to get into your pants.

You were glad it wasn't as you valued his friendship and didn't want him to fuck it up by treating you like another conquest. You didn't even want to think what chaos would unfold with regards to Yuji if it did.

Sukuna started to feel steady, like actually worthy of consideration as an eligible boyfriend. You shook off that thought the second it popped into your mind. There's no way he'd want to be in an established relationship.

Right?

You kept your thoughts to yourself for as long as you could. Not wanting to come off as egotistical if you asked him if he was doing all this in an attempt to court you. The idea had warmth blossoming in your chest like it would whenever you'd witness his quiet moments with Yuji or when he would give you that soft smile while you two were lounging around and doing your own thing in the same room.

However, alcohol was not good for someone who wanted to conceal their thoughts and you happened to have plenty of it at Yuki's birthday party one night at an exclusive nightclub.

Dancing and drinking to your heart's content, you'd bumped and grinded with Shoko. Even Utahime joined which shocked Sukuna. Then you were throwing it back against the birthday girl herself who caught it and moved with you like she'd done it all her life.

He wouldn't be surprised if onlookers assumed that the four women moving together, all charged on the dance floor, were in some kind of polyamorous situation. Sukuna was convinced you'd kiss at any moment.

Suguru has escorted Shoko and Utahime home. Choso had to carry a giggly Yuki, who was blowing kisses at you, out of the club as she refused to stop dancing.

Leaving Sukuna to deal with your drunken antics.

And you're an aggressively flirty, overly affectionate kind of drunk tonight as he ushers you out of the club and to the parking lot.

You've got a crooked grin on your face as you sway, turning this way and that to look at the neon lights that smear across the wet gravel, spinning so fast that your legs give out.

He catches you with an arm around your waist before you fall.

“Oops,” you giggle once then a flurry of them ring out of you and into the night because everything is so funny.

“Geez, woman. You need some water and painkillers,” Sukuna hisses as he ushers you to his car.

You chuckle into his shoulder, admiring his side profile as he buckles your seatbelt. When he gets into the car and pulls out of the parking lot, you roll your head to look over at him.

“You're so grumpy,” you inform him in all seriousness. “But like in a hot way.”

There's a ghost of a smile on his face as his brows raise.

“Is that so?” he asks, knowing you're going to regret saying this when he teases you about it tomorrow.

“Mhm, when I first met you, I thought, ‘Ah, at least this neighborhood's got eye candy,’” you confess easily, liquor loosening your sharp tongue.

Coughing to hide his chuckle, Sukuna nods as he keeps his eyes on the road. “I see,” he says a little too smugly.

“Yeah, but then you came with noise pollution and that kind of ruined it,” you add as his smile faces into a grimace as he recalls how loud he used to be with his dates.

“Right.”

“But you're cool now, I suppose,” you console cheerfully.

He chuckles, catching the way your eyes are closing then reaching over and patting your head. That would have earned him a swat if you were sober.

“Get some rest,” you hear him say and don't need to be told twice.

Your good nap is rudely interrupted when he shakes you awake in the parking lot of your apartment complex.

“Nooo,” you whine, pulling away from his hands.

Huffing, he pats your shoulder. “Come on, we've got to go upstairs. You can't sleep here.”

You shake your head and he heaves a heavy sigh.

“Carry me up then, you big strong man.”

Sukuna does just that and you blink your eyes open once he's unlocking the door to his apartment and stepping in before setting you down.

He kneels to help you out of your shoes and something stirs in your belly. Maybe the alcohol. Maybe butterflies.

You're quieter this time as you run your fingers through his hair, still giggly but softer.

“Ryo, you're so good to me,” you murmur as he unbuckles your other heel.

The nickname is new coming from you and he feels his heart tug at it, so affectionate as it melts in your mouth and drips off your tongue like honey.

“You'd say that to anyone dealing with your drunk ass,” he retorts, no bite behind his words. Though he does hope you wouldn't tell anyone else that.

When he stands up once more, you clutch the lapels of his leather jacket and yank him to you with surprising force. He catches himself with a hand to the wall, eyes wide.

“I could be good to you too,” you purr, a lascivious smile on your glossy lips.

And fuck, would he take you up on that offer if you were in your right senses. He can only dream. For now, he places his hands over yours and pats them.

“You can't even walk in a straight line. Ask me again when you're sober, yeah?” he suggests, suppressing a smile at the pout that pulls at your face from the rejection.

He's surprised when you push away and stagger off, nearly tripping on his living room rug. Following you, he finds you in his bedroom, about to strip.

Snatching one of his shirts from his closet, he puts it on for you right as you shimmy out of your sparkly dress and kick it off. A confused noise leaves you at the sight of you still being covered.

That doesn't deter you though as you press yourself against him on your tippy toes. Pretty lashes bat up at him as you tilt your head and give him a deceptively innocent smile that's more coy than anything.

Poking his chest with a manicured finger, you hum. “You look so sexy when you're all stern and serious.”

He snorts, eyes unwavering. “Doubt you're looking at anything with your eyes almost shut but okay.”

A sultry laugh emits from you, breathless and low as your glassy gaze roams over his face in obvious appreciation.

Biting your lip, you tilt your head back and grin up at him like a succubus.

“Why don't you do a twirl for mama?”

Stilling at that, his brows furrow. “A twirl for ma—You know what, I'm not even gonna ask. You need to sleep, woman.”

A sound of disagreement thrums in your throat as your index finger trails the side of his face, following the inky path of his tattoos, goosebumps rising on his skin.

“I know exactly what I need.”

Sukuna's having none of it as he picks you up and carries you to bed. You squirm and struggle for a bit before relenting, exhaustion setting in finally. He quickly goes to his bathroom, coming back with painkillers and a glass of water, making you take them.

Then he sifts out makeup wipes from your purse, gently and carefully removing the glittery stuff from your face. He's amazed and annoyed by how many layers there are.

“Why is there so much? Fuck, you don't even need this shit,” he murmurs in irritation as he takes out the mascara from your eyelashes.

It must've felt good because you were down for the count by the time he was done, soft snores coming from you.

Tired himself, Sukuna takes off his leather jacket and toes off his shoes, unbuckling his belt. He can't be bothered with a shower right now after handling you for the past half an hour so when he goes to lock up, he just crashes on the couch in the living room.

All the lights are off as he drifts off. He's on the cusp of slumber, steadily approaching it when he hears shuffling and soft footfalls padding out of the hallway and into the living room.

Cracking an eye open reluctantly, he groans at your silhouette as you approach him with a bright smile. “Not again, brat.”

Unfazed by his less than enthusiastic reaction, you climb onto the couch that's thankfully big enough for the two of you. If you both sleep on your sides, that is.

“Let's have a sleepover!” You exclaim excitedly.

Your neighbor's face is smushed to the cushion beneath his head as he groans in response. Nevertheless, he lifts a lethargic arm, inviting you and you giggle as you accept, snuggling up to his chest and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, throwing a leg over his hip.

It's not long before your breathing evens out. Relieved, Sukuna keeps his arm band around your waist so you don't fall off the couch during your slumber and lets himself pass out too.

A dry throat and fatigue greets you in the morning as you blink your eyes open to sunlight streaking into the living room. You're glad that you don't have a pounding headache but you've got to admit, you've never felt this heavy before.

The reason for that additional weight is made clear when you try to move but aren't able to. Then you register faint snores and breathing coming from behind you and freeze.

Glancing around, you note that you're in Sukuna's apartment.

Which means…

Slowly, you look down to see an all too familiar arm around your waist and the owner of that arm's t-shirt swallowing you. The man is currently spooning you, hand splayed over your stomach.

Your muscles scream. There's an ache in your legs, a dull one between them too and you instantly think of the worst-case scenario.

Did you sleep with him while inebriated?

Oh, no, no, no!

Wriggling as you try to escape his hold. A gravely grumble sounds from behind you as he stirs.

“It's too early for this shit.” He lets go of you and you instantly sit up right, facing him.

“Why am I in your shirt?” you immediately question.

Opening one eye, he squints at you.

“Because you took off your clothes,” he answers like it's obvious.

Your eyes grow wide. “Did we—?”

He hums. “Yeah, you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. Did it twice and you proposed after.”

A strangled noise leaves you, face on fire.

Sukuna blinks awake slowly, relishing watching the horror pale your face and panic bloom in your puffy eyes.

He observes your internal struggle, no doubt troubled that your friendship is ruined and wracking your brain for how you let this happen. Then he cracks with a grin, leaning in to laugh into your shoulder before you can have a full meltdown.

“I'm joking, woman. You passed out in my bed then insisted on having a slumber party on my couch. That's all,” he clears your worries.

“Then why am I sore?!”

He shrugs. “That's on you. You were shaking your ass and dropping it low on Yuki and the others last night as if it was your birthday.”

Scowling even as relief blossoms in your chest, you grab a nearby couch cushion and start whacking him with it as he barks out a laugh, hands shielding his face.

Eventually, he snatches it from you and gives you that stupid, self-assured smirk.

“Trust me, if we ever did anything,” he starts, expression softening into something deeper. “You'd never have to guess if it happened or not.”

His almost rose gold irises in the sunlight have you ripping the cushion out of his hands and smacking him again, shoving down the funny things it's doing to your insides.

You're pulling away and Sukuna can feel it. It irks him but he doesn't confront you about it. Maybe you're just embarrassed about the night you got drunk. It's not like he told you about all your transgressions in which you called him hot and sexy and tried to make moves on him.

Perhaps you recalled those moments yourself and got embarrassed.

He'd tell you that you had no reason to be. He didn't mind taking care of you in that state at all. In fact, it made him proud that he could. While he doesn't admit it, he likes being a caregiver, a realisation that became more apparent when he had Yuji under his guardianship. It always gave him this warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest when he got to be there for people he cared about.

And if you just gave him the time of day, he'd tell you all of that. But now? You're only around when Yuji is there. To top it off, you're going on dates more often now. Like a creep, he presses his ear to the connecting wall to hear if you bring any of them over but you never do.

To counteract the fear of missing out he's developed after weeks of hearing you go on dates with other men, he decides to try dating as well. No point in dwelling in his apartment and sulking about it when he has no right to anyway.

Yet, as he sits in the dimly lit restaurant across from the woman who's exactly his type as she laughs at his jokes and compliments him freely, he can't help but think about another one who'd roll her eyes, insult him by telling him he looks like a thug posing as a gentleman in this suit and call him a carnivore for how he always orders steaks. Meanwhile this woman just agrees with everything he says even if he says something particularly controversial or condescending that you would have flung the salt and pepper jars at him for.

To make matters worse, you were more than happy to watch Yuji at his apartment alone tonight. Kaori and Jin had also gone out for their weekly date night. Choso and Yuki were away on a trip so they couldn't babysit either.

His date excuses herself to the restroom to freshen up after he pays the bill and he's left alone to confront what he already knew.

Sukuna has never been great at dealing with his feelings in a healthy way, alcohol and drugs being his vices since high school. Women were added to that list after he lost his mother. He had skipped her burial, unable to bear witnessing her being lowered into her grave and accepting that her departure was final.

Instead, he'd gone on a trip with some acquaintances where he drowned his sorrows in drinking, substances and sex. Lots and lots of sex. It felt good for years but the crash after all the ecstasy was never fun so he'd do it more frequently to prevent having to face reality.

As he grew older, the alcohol and drugs lost their grip on him. He never was the type to get addicted to things for long anyway. But the hookups became a habit. Up until you moved in and called out his “frat boy” behaviour and he acknowledged that the sex didn't even feel good anymore. The orgasms had no kick to them and he'd come out more numb than he went in.

Then Yuji and you came along and he felt like his heart started working again. No longer dormant and cold in his chest like it was when he was fucking strangers or fighting at bars to feel something. His nephew would have been absolutely adored by his mother. Sukuna thinks she'd have prevented Jin and himself from going down their self-destructive paths if she was still here. So he decided to be a good uncle like she'd want him to be, like he wanted to be and it healed something in him that he neglected for so fucking long.

There's a tug at the corner of his mouth as he reminisces on everything that's changed in his life since his mouthy neighbor and baby nephew came into it.

Speaking of the devil, his phone buzzes and he's quick to sift it out of his pocket, smile growing as he sees that it's texts from you.

Happy Feet: Shit, I forgot to ask if you're bringing her home!

Happy Feet: I can take Yuji to my place, we all know how loud you get.

Sukuna: Don't stress, I'm not turning this into a hookup.

Happy Feet: Wow, really?

Happy Feet: Who are you and what have you done with Sukuna?

Sukuna: Shush, brat. I'm just not up for that kind of thing anymore.

Happy Feet: Really?

Sukuna: Really.

Happy Feet: Is the date going that bad?

Sukuna: Not the greatest but that's not the main reason.

Sukuna: I'll tell you when I get back.

Putting his phone away, he prepares himself to turn his date down gently as she returns from the restroom and they leave the restaurant.

It took you a solid hour to put Yuji to bed with the long nap he took in the afternoon that you knew would come back to bite you in the ass later. You couldn't resist taking one with him, knowing you'd wake up the moment he stirred anyway.

There's finally peace and quiet in the apartment as you move around in the kitchen, humming to yourself in content while making yourself a cup of tea.

You're pouring boiling water into your cup when the front door opens and closes with a click followed by shuffling of Sukuna taking off his shoes and suit jacket.

He'd been planning on going straight to his bedroom to shower and sleep but seeing the kitchen light on carried him there instead. That's where he finds you in that white oversized sleep tee you wear with “Kiss Your Homies, Goodnight,” in blue font on the back, foregoing pants.

It makes him want to snort because you definitely never give him a goodnight kiss. Maybe he's not one of your “homies” then.

Glancing over your shoulder when he takes a seat on a stool at the kitchen island, your hair falls softly over your forehead. His hand itches to come over and tuck it behind your ear. Instead he props an elbow on the marble countertop and tucks his chin into his palm.

“Remember that night Yuji got sick?” he asks after a few beats of listening to your teaspoon clink against the sides of the ceramic cup.

Nodding, you hum. “How could I forget?”

That makes him smile lightly. It was a stressful night for you both.

Trips to the beach, zoo and even museums were common with his nephew. He loved playing in the tidal pools, pointing out the tigers and saying they were Sukuna, and gawking at the fossilized dinosaurs in the natural history exhibits. Firework festivals were rare but you guys took him to that too.

It was all good until one late afternoon while you were getting ready to leave for a festival, something felt off. Yuji is all smiles and babbles as usual but as the hours go on, he grows quiet and lethargic. Sukuna and you assume he's just sleepy because he missed his midday nap. But as you're about to leave, you find him lying on the floor which was weird because he didn't like the coldness of it at night.

Picking him up, you gasped at how hot he was. Nothing seemed to cool him down and next thing you know, you were rushing him to the hospital. Sukuna who was usually calm and cool in the face of chaos had yelled at the doctors and nurses when he wasn't allowed in the room while Yuji screamed and cried, afraid of the needle they were trying to poke him with to administer an injection.

He'd paced in the waiting room and you'd tried to calm him down, saying that his distress was valid but would scare the baby more. It's then you learned how much he hated hospitals. Hated the sterile scent. Hated that only a few people could visit a patient at a time. Hated seeing others rejoice over their loved ones recovery when his one was still in a critical state. It brought back horrible memories of when his mom was sickly and he didn't know which visit would be his last, hated the doctors that stopped him from seeing her right as she took her last breath.

After telling him you'll handle talking to the doctor and nurses, you suggest he go down to the gift store and get Yuji some toys and balloons to cheer him up. Sukuna always did like getting his nephew gifts so he agrees. While he's in the store, he sees an old video game that Jin and him used to play. Deciding to channel his anger into something productive, he calls his brother up and cusses him out. While Yuji's fever isn't life-threatening, his parents should still be here.

“I was a mess and you were so level-headed,” he muses as he looks up at the ceiling lights.

Shrugging, you bring your cup over to the island and let it cool a bit, steam curling out of it. “Someone had to be. Couldn't let you beat up the doctors.”

He grumbles at that. “They should've let me go in with him.”

“Yeah but I think you would've been more distressed than the baby,” you joke.

“Whatever,” he mutters, eyeing your cup then meeting your gaze, his pretty irises seeming almost pink in this lighting. “Thank you for that night by the way,” he says for the umpteenth time.

“Don't mention it, really,” you insist.

He stands, rounding the counter in a few strides, and then he's towering before you. “I mean it. You handled everything so well. Took care of Yuji and kept me in my senses.”

From this close, you have to lean back against the island and crane your neck to look up at him. “I'd do it again in a heartbeat. Though I don't want that to happen again.”

Sukuna's got that look in his eye again. That deep, contemplative one that softens the sharp lines of his face into something youthful, almost boyish. You wonder if this is what he looked like when he just turned twenty.

There goes that fuzziness in your stomach again. Not exactly butterflies as they don't set you on edge and make you nervous. Rather, you're calm, pulse slowing to something syrupy as the corners of your vision grow hazy like you're preparing to sleep. It still makes you nervous from how cozy you feel.

Clearing your throat, you pull at the front of your shirt, hoping the bagginess hides your pebbled nipples. “So your date, how was it?”

That steals the tender expression right off Sukuna's face as his nose wrinkles, features twisting into a cringe. “Don't ask. She was saying everything I wanted to hear and agreeing even when I was talking straight bullshit.”

You snort. “Isn't that what you like though?”

“For a hookup, maybe. But I'm looking for a girlfriend now,” he answers smoothly.

Arching a brow, you huff in amazement. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, but it's not going well,” he says with a sigh.

Skeptical, you lift a shoulder. “It'll be hard at the start but I'm sure you'll find someone decent soon. You're just not used to long term stuff.”

Inclining his head, he thinks about it. “Maybe but that's not why it's been so hard.”

You roll your eyes at that. Of course finding a partner wouldn't be hard for his ass with how women flock to him like moths to a flame. Or flies to shit like you used to say.

“And pray tell, why is that?” you ask, voice dripping with sarcasm as you twist and reach for your cup.

“You make it hard,” he bluntly states.

Rearing back, you forget your cup as your eyes widen. “Me? Are you calling me a cockblock or something? I've never—”

“How can I date anyone else when you're right here? When you're everything I want? When I look for you in all of them?” The questions spill out of his mouth and he doesn't try to stop them, having kept them tucked away within him for too long.

Feeling bombarded, you blink rapidly then let out a weak laugh.

“You're drunk, Sukuna,” you try to excuse the confession when you get a whiff of bourbon on his minty breath.

He snorts. “Hardly. Just slightly buzzed.”

“Better get to bed then before you say or do something you'll regret,” you advise, heartbeat picking up as you notice how his body is crowding yours.

It doesn't overwhelm you or make you want to flee and that's exactly why it's so dangerous. Makes you feel tingles in your tummy and between your thighs.

Lowering his head so he's at eye level with you, he speaks in a husky voice.

“The only thing I'll regret is waiting any longer to tell you how I feel. Who knows when one of those idiots you date will finally stick?”

His rhetorical question takes you by surprise. Not once have you assumed that he was bothered by you dating. Why would you? Besides, he was always so eager to listen to how they went.

“I think we should talk about this tomorrow,” you mutter.

Realising that he's all up in your space, he takes a step back and you almost ask him to come closer again. Running a hand through his hair, he sighs.

“Why not now? Do you not feel the same?” he asks, looking exasperated and honestly a little lost. “It's okay if you don't. Just come out and say it. I won't hold it against you. We can go back to being friends or whatever.”

Shaking your head, you twist your hands in front of you. “That's not what I'm saying. I just think it'll be better if we approach this with clear minds.”

“My mind is never clear when I'm around you, woman,” he hisses.

Your eyes narrow in defense. “That's your problem, not mine.”

With a groan, he rubs a hand down his face, eyes squeezed shut. He opens his eyes once more into slits as his brows crease.

“You're so good to him,” he refers to Yuji by pointing down the halls to where the toddler's nursery is. “Why can't you be good to me?”

Biting back a scoff, you deadpan. “You're not a child, Sukuna.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, he grouches. “I like you way more than he does.”

You don't know how to respond to that, stomach and heart swapping places.

Mirroring his stance, you raise your chin, nose cocked in the air. “One bad date and you're settling for me, is that it?”

He grunts. “More like the only reason I went on that date is because you're seeing people too and I don't want to look like a jealous idiot.”

“That's a whole load of bull and you know it.”

Throwing his hands up in frustration, he looks at you, incredulous.

“Can you not see that I've wanted you for months now. Not just for sex, don't give me that smart look. Fuck no. I want to be your boyfriend,” he admits like he's trying to get it through your stubborn head.

Cocking a brow, you tip your head and stare at him down the line of your nose. “Even without sex?”

He pauses at the question then nods without much hesitation.

“Well, yeah. If that's the cost.”

“You're serious?” You were only testing him to see if he was after something physical but he took your words earnestly.

“Deadly,” he confirms.

Sukuna thinks about it then, “Do I get to kiss you though?”

“Yeah.”

Relief relaxes his face as he smiles. “That's good enough for me.”

“Shit, you're serious.”

“Didn't I already say that?”

“How was I supposed to know you weren't only agreeing to get what you want?” You argue.

Closing the distance once more, he ducks his head, voice low and rough. “It's as serious as me being unable to get it up at the thought or sight of other women, yes.”

Oh.

“Are you sure that's not just early signs of erectile dysfunction?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, the sound trickling down your spine as he dips his head, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“I can assure you that I function quite fine around a certain mouthy woman.”

You're at a loss for words at that as his statement is punctuated by something thick and long pressing against your belly from where it's tucked into the waistband of his slacks.

He leans back carefully like he's afraid you might make a run for it. Eyes searching yours for any reluctance, he blows out a breath when he finds none. You bite the inside of your cheek, nibbling at it in anticipation.

Dipping his head once more, his breath brushes the side of your neck.

“Tell me this is a bad idea,” he murmurs.

It's hard to think straight with his mouth so close to your thrumming pulse. Your mind flits through responses ranging from agreeing this is bad and stopping to keeping quiet and letting it happen.

Almost imperceptibly, you shake your head. “It's not.”

That's all Sukuna needs to hear as he cups the back of your neck, pulling it back so your throat is bared to him. Slow, damp kisses are peppered against your sensitive skin as you hold your breath, a gasp sucked into your lungs when he parts his hot, wet lips over your pulse and sucks the heartbeats there.

His pecks trail up the expanse of your neck, across your jaw, brushing your cheek before his lips pause at the corner of your mouth. Once again, he gives you a chance to back out.

You respond by turning your head and pressing your lips to his.

Hand sliding up your neck, his thumb rests just beneath your ear as your fingers come up to clutch at the fabric of his dress shirt lightly. You're hesitant at first but when his lips part over yours in a gentle, tentative pull, your hold grows firmer, pulling him closer as you melt.

The second kiss isn't as careful.

It's the kind that has been building for months if not over a year. Deeper. Slower. Bodies pressing together, soaking in each other's warmth and the feel of his firm body against your softer one that's so malleable flushed to his. A rumbling groan vibrates in his throat as his tongue licks into your mouth, tasting you.

Breaking apart for a breath, Sukuna rests his forehead against yours, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth before coming down on yours once more. It's unhurried yet there's an underlying urgency now.

His hands slide down to your hips as your fingers slip into his hair.

The breeze from the cracked open kitchen window doesn't touch either of you as you're engulfed in each other's heat. The city lights blink in the distance like they're watching you.

Somewhere between the dizzying kisses and dreamy sighs, you found yourselves on the couch.

Sukuna's hands rub up and down your back, head tilting this way and that to deep the kiss as his lips pull and push against yours, sweet, sloppy and slow. Your stomach constantly somersaults, a heady drip of syrup drizzling in your lower belly and pooling between your legs in an ache.

To relieve yourself of it, you rock over his lap, seeking friction. His mouth comes off yours with a low, drawn-out groan as your clothed cunt presses down on the fat bulge tenting his trousers. Dotting a kiss to his brow, you glance down between the two of you, canting your hips experimentally.

Hands braced on his chest, you roll your body clumsily at first, chasing some form of stimulation before moving with more intention, breath stuttering against his cheek when your clit catches against the zipper of his pants.

“Lift your hips for a sec,” he tells you, spoiling your fun.

But you oblige and he undoes his slacks, pushing them down and kicking them off. Big hands settle at your waist, pulling you to sit on his lap again, the restraints of his pants gone now so only his thin boxers and your flimsy panties are in the way.

Shuddering at the closer contact, you feel his cock twitch right as your clit pulses, squashing your breasts to his solid pecs as you grind against him with renewed fervor. His hold on your sides helps you set a faster pace, guiding you back and forth on his cock.

You're salivating, mouth agape as you feel every thick inch of it, all veins and ridges accounted for. Sukuna's tongue slips out and licks up the drool dribbling down your chin with a hum that would have you blushing if you weren't preoccupied.

“Feels good, hmm? Imagine how much better it'll feel inside you,” he murmurs in a growly grunt that has you whining. “That's it, baby. Make yourself feel good.”

His hips buck up to meet your grinds, moans falling from both of you as your clit bumps against his tip. You part your legs wider and rub down again and again, breaths growing choppy and voiceless with every roll of your bundle of nerves over his cock head.

A nimble finger hooks into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, a cuss following as Sukuna peers into them and sees how the fabric clings to your folds with your slick that he can feel through his boxers, dampening them more and more with each hump.

“Shit, you're soaked. You sure you don't want me?” he taunts but there's a hint of awe in his voice.

“Shut up, some of that is you,” you mutter, slapping a palm over his mouth. He promptly licks it and your pussy pounds as if he'd lapped at your slit instead but he doesn't push your hand away.

Releasing your waistband, you feel him grin, eyes crinkling as you jump from how the elastic stings when it snaps against your skin. You throw your head back with an airy moan as his clothed cock nestles between your puffy folds as his hips thrust up against yours.

Grabbing handfuls off your ass, he uses it as leverage to ground you down on his harder and you can barely keep up. Hands gripping at his chest, you tug so hard that his buttons pop off, smacking you in the face as you shut an eye to avoid having it poked out.

“Shit, you're this eager, huh?” he asks now that his mouth isn't covered.

“Fuck off,” you retort, pulling a breathy chuckle from him.

It's cut off by a low swear as something pokes him in the ass. Pausing, he reaches under him and pulls out a fucking Lego.

“That damn kid,” he grumbles as he tosses it aside while you giggle. It's not long before something else stabs him in the back this time, and he pulls out a green and red stegosaurus. He flings it across the living room.

He tries to scowl at you but fails, both of you laughing quietly. Your giggles dissolve into moans as you pick up where you left off, a steady pool of heat welling heavily in your belly.

“Shush,” Sukuna hushes you when your noises get too needy and desperate, earning a half-lidded glare from you. “Gotta keep it down unless you want the brat to wake up and scream his head off.”

Crap, you completely forgot that the toddler was sleeping just down the hall. Some babysitter you were. If Yuji woke up all alone, he'd throw a fit and neither Sukuna or you could afford that right now. Sukuna's convinced he'll pop a blood vessel if he's interrupted now that he has you.

“We'll just have to settle for this now, yeah? Until I can get you alone,” he tells you and you nod. With him all warm and hard beneath you, you didn't need much more to get off.

Sukuna seems to share the sentiment as his groans and grunts grow breathier. Greedy, rough hands slipping under the hem of your t-shirt to grope at your supple flesh and bouncing breasts, pinching at your nipples.

Your back arches, pushing into his touch as your hips rut harder, pace growing sporadic and frantic, thoughts narrowing until all you can think of is your impending release. With each delicious glide of your hips, the friction builds and builds, every nudge of his tip against your clit carrying you closer and closer.

“Fuck, Ryo, I'm close,” you pant, sounding nearly panicked. And you are because you've been clenching your thighs around him so tight and stiff that they ache and you're afraid you'll lose momentum before you finish.

“Oh so it's Ryo when you want something,” he teases.

Understanding, he grips you by the waist and rolls you both over. Your back hits the couch as he settles between your legs, spreading them to accommodate his big body.

“I've got you, baby,” he promises.

Hitching one of your legs up and over his hip, he plants a hand beside your head as he takes the lead, rocking his hips between your thighs, watching his clothed cock pump between your panty-clad pussy lips. He hums in satisfaction, cock kicking as your eyelashes flutter, eyes rolling back as he maintains that pace.

“Like this?” he whispers.

You nod with a sigh. “Like that.”

With a hand gripping the back of your knees, he hump between your thighs at a mind-numbing rhythm as arousal sparks and ignites with you, stinging electricity rolling from your stomach straight to the back of your clit as your back bows off the couch with a gasping cry.

“Shh, I know, baby, I know.”

Sukuna swallows down your sounds, groaning himself as his hips stutter and then he's spending his seed in his underwear, kissing you lazily as you pant into each other's mouths.

“Knew this smart mouth would be sweet,” he mutters more to himself than you.

He regards you with that warm expression again that has you feeling more gooey inside as if you're not already a boneless puddle beneath him.

“You're so fucking pretty, you know that?” Brushing your damp hair away from your face, his thumb strokes your cheek, slowly but surely bringing you down from your high as he smiles softly at your glazed over eyes and lax face.

“Shut up,” you whisper drowsily, voice thick with cotton.

Chuckling, he nuzzles your cheek with his nose, pressing a kiss there before pulling back to look at you again like he can't get enough.

“I'm serious. You're beautiful, funny and so intelligent. Haven't been able to get it up for anyone but you in months. Did you poison my food or something?”

Scoffing, you humor him. “Maybe.”

Humming in mock suspicion, his eyes narrow.

“Must've put something in the little brat's milk too. You've got him wrapped around your finger, don't you? I'll admit, I was upset about not being his favorite anymore but then I realised I want to be your favorite too,” he rambles.

“You're competing with a toddler?” It's so ridiculous and so him.

“For you, yeah.”

“How idiotic.”

“You love it,” he claims.

“Not really,” you deny.

Grinning, he whispers, “Yes really.”

His amusement is contagious so you find yourself smiling back and he's leaning down to kiss you again, crushing you underneath his weight.

A sharp, piercing shriek rings out in the apartment, too loud for this hour of the night. You both wince and freeze.

Slowly pulling back, Sukuna shuts his eyes tight and cusses under his breath as he fishes out a fucking squeaky toy from beneath the cushion your head is on.

On cue, his nephew's cries fill the apartment and he groans, rolling off you to go settle him. You stop him with a hand on his arm as you stand up as well.

“I'll get him. You need to shower and get out of those soiled boxers, freak,” you tell him with a pat to his back as you saunter off.

“You did this to me!” He calls out behind you as you laugh.

note: this is the final part! argh, i'm gonna miss these two. i’ll probably write drabbles on them now and then.

Sukuna and you wouldn't hang out much unless he had Yuji over for the weekend. It's not like he could keep his nephew to himself anyway. The toddler would make his presence known and call out for you until you appeared outside Sukuna's front door, brows low and eyes squinted at him accusingly for not informing you of your favorite little guy's visit.

However, his family took a liking to you too. It was hard not to when Yuji would ask for you and point at toys of his that you got him, keeping those close along with the tyrannosaur plushie from Sukuna. You became an unexpected addition to their family though you weren't that close to the others. Choso, who was Kaori's older son and his girlfriend, Yuki, were fun to be around too and it helped that they were close to your age.

Sukuna feels like you're taking over his life. His friends find your hair ties, the single earrings of yours that always go missing from your pairs and the scent of your shampoo or perfume on his cushions or sheets in the guest room. If he had women over like he used to, he'd think you were leaving hints to make him out to be a cheater in their eyes. Even if you never gave him the impression that you liked him. Not that he cared about what weekend lovers were thinking of him anyway.

Gradually, he found you assimilating into his friend group as well. Shoko and Utahime were friends of his friends, Gojo and Geto among others so it was only natural that you all got acquainted. They took a liking to you too.

But now you were both getting questioned by his family and your friends about the nature of your relationship. You insist that it's Sukuna's fault. If his friends and him aren't talking about sport, stocks and whatnot, he's pulling out his phone and showing them pictures of Yuji and the evidence of his milestones that Sukuna can't resist boasting about.

“Look at his tiny teeth coming in, he's a mean biter, that little brat,” he'd fondly grumble as his friends swiped through his camera roll. Suguru would share a glance with Satoru whenever a picture of Yuji included you. Sitting with him on one end of the seesaw at the park, pushing him on the baby swing, laughing as he wore your glasses that magnified his round eyes, napping on the couch with Yuji drooling on your shirt. Sukuna complained about that last one, saying he'd gone to work that morning and came back around lunch to find that you two barely moved from watching The Land Before Time since he left.

You, of course, did not take that lying down. Revealing your own phone like a lawyer in court, you presented your camera roll. The first picture was one you took early on after meeting Yuji when you spotted Sukuna with the baby strapped to his chest as he very, very gently boxed his punching bag on his terrace. That was actually going to be evidence for child protective services as you were concerned for the infant's safety and you ignore Sukuna's slack jaw when you admit to that while the others laugh. The other photos consist of Sukuna biting Yuji's cheek while the chubby baby looks terrified, the toddler lounging on Sukuna's back while he scrolls on his phone, both boys giving the camera a grimace and Sukuna helping Yuji step into beachwater for the first time.

All your friends are speechless as they watch the both of you laugh about memories you'd witnessed together and sigh sadly about how quickly he's growing then have the audacity to look befuddled by their stares when you notice the silence in the bustling steakhouse.

“What?” Sukuna and you ask at the same time with matching shrugs.

Satoru is the first to respond with a huff of breath, amused as he pushes his sunglasses further up into his hair. “Shoko was right. You two act like you're Yuji's parents.”

That earns an eyeroll from you as you put your phone away and pop a crispy fry into your mouth. “Can't a girl gush about a kid without being accused of being motherly? Damn.”

Sukuna frowns as he takes a sip of his drink. “None of you are any better when he's around anyway.” Yuji is practically the friend group baby with how everyone showers him with affection when he's around. He's never short of attention, food or toys when they come to visit so the others don't bother denying it.

Leaning back in his seat, Satoru shrugs. “You've got a point. Maybe someone else here should have a baby so we stop teasing you two.” Utahime is already looking bored because Satoru always nominates her for motherhood. “What about you, Uta—” She silences him by stuffing a bread roll into his opened mouth.

Suguru raises his hands, placating as ever with that gentle smile on his face as if he doesn't enable Satoru's antics.

“Alright, alright. Settle down. No need to pull that bulldog face, Sukuna,” he tells the man who only scowls in response.

Shoko hummed. “Yeah, when was the last time you got laid?” The glasses of wine she had are definitely talking now. “You're usually way more at ease.”

You snort at that. “This guy hasn't gotten any in months. It's so bad that he calls Yuji a cockblock. The poor kid.”

The man in question sits up straight and whips his head in your direction from where he's seated across from you. “Excuse me? Your uptight ass is none the better.”

Rising to the challenge as always, you tilt your head and tap your fingers against the table. “My appetite isn't as voracious as yours. Even if it was, I'm more tasteful and don't need the whole complex to know I'm getting some.”

“I'm gonna go get another drink,” Utahime says, all too familiar with yours and Sukuna's bickering. Shoko, Suguru and Satoru on the other hand stay right where they are, gazes bouncing to and fro like they're watching a tennis match.

Brows twitching, Sukuna seems to glitch at that. Did you just imply that you have been seeing people but you're subtle about it? That wouldn't make sense. He never sees anyone— Then again he's not around all the time. Had his observation skills dulled that much?

“That's a load of bull. You're way too stiff and pissy for someone who claims they're getting laid. The only times you seem relaxed is when Yuji is around,” he states like it's a fact.

“Have you ever considered that I'm only like this around you?”

His brooding expression eases and there's a tug at the corner of his mouth, tattoo on along his jaw inching higher on his face. “Yeah? Do I affect you that much?”

Your face twists like you're in pain and you might as well be because that line was lame. “Geez, have you lost your touch? Being an uncle softened you, huh?”

Setting his elbows on the table with a thump, rattling the silverware and glasses, Sukuna leans in, his shadow casting over the table, eyes as dark as the remnants of Shoko's wine. You regard him, unfazed and he feels his blood sizzle.

“I can assure you that my touch is very well intact,” he overstated, each word enunciated with a self-assured drawl.

Suguru, Shoko and Satoru are silently putting their money on who they think is going to win this time. Usually you emerge victorious much to Sukuna's dismay but he does have his own triumphs while you're left cussing him out under your breath.

A chuckle leaves you as you swirl your drink and take a sip, looking at him over the rim. Setting it back down, Sukuna can smell the sugary fruit cocktail on your breath as you reply.

“Frequent dates with your right hand do not count.” Satoru chokes in the second bread roll he'd taken a bite out of as Shoko hits his back harder than necessary. Suguru looks away but you catch the curve of his mouth.

Sukuna doesn't react save for the strand of hair that falls over his eyes. “That's cute. I'm sure you can relate with all the buzzing I hear from your apartment. Is your new hobby beekeeping or something?”

That rips a gasp from your throat and his grin is mean as he shrugs and excuses himself to use the restroom. A trick he uses to flee while you're still taken aback. It goes on like this for weeks until Satoru opens his mouth and gives you both a dare.

“Bet you two won't last seeing each other naked. Platonic my fucking ass,” he slurs one night when Sukuna is dropping him and Suguru off at his place after one too many drinks. Then again, Satoru's always been a lightweight.

You scoff at that, finding it ridiculous. Sukuna and you have seen each other half-naked so naked wouldn't be that different. At least you think so.

Neither of you mention it the whole ride home and even when he’s parked the car. With a nod and a greeting to the doorman, you enter the lobby and head for the elevator.

The doors slide shut and you're met with your reflection next to Sukuna's. Sleeves rolled up, top buttons undone on his shirt and his slacks a little creased, he rested his head against the wall and watched the numbers climb higher. You're no different in a fitted button-up and pencil skirt, showing way too much cleavage to be professional. That's the result of going out for drinks straight after work at the office.

“Gojo's fucking stupid sometimes,” Sukuna comments, drawing your attention. “Actually, most of the time,” he corrects.

You nod. “Yeah, he must've heard a dumbass dare like that from one of those dramas he's always telling us about.”

A glance is exchanged before you both let out tired laughs. Your body feels heavy in the way it always does after a long day, the blazing sun from earlier only made things worse. It's easier to be friendly with Sukuna when neither of you have it in you to argue.

The elevator doors open and you step out first. You murmur a goodnight as you fish out your keys from your purse. You hear his own slot into the keyhole but the jiggling pauses. He clears his throat and you look at him. Gaze contemplative and definitely up to no good, he gives you a once over then nods to his door.

“Wanna stay over tonight? You look too tired to find your keys in the dumpster you call your bag,” he says and you don't know how to take that.

“You're insulting my purse and expect me to agree?” You make a face.

He shuts his eyes, exhaling hard through his nose and he tries to gather his thoughts and rectify his invite. “My bad, I meant your purse. Come on. It'll be easier.”

Bunching your lips to the side, you eye him in suspicion. “Easier, how? Is Yuji coming over early tomorrow?”

Right, of course you'd assume it's because his nephew is visiting. Why else would you stay over at his place? There's never been another reason though right now he wishes there was.

“No, he's gonna spend time with Choso tomorrow actually. He nagged me about not being able to hang out with his brother more because I'm always snatching him up at every chance I get. Whatever that means.”

The mention of Choso brings a sweet smile to your face which annoys Sukuna because you're now fond of two of his family members and he's not one of them.

“Yeah, you do steal Yuji a lot. Let him bond with his big brother,” you scold lightly.

Sukuna rolls his eyes and nods anyway. “I will. Not my fault I'm more available than he is. Why don't you stay the night so I don't get lonely and ruin their plans?”

Your eyebrows reach your hairline at that ultimatum. “Excuse me? You're gonna crash their hangout if I don't come over?”

Laughing to yourself, you turn back to your door and he wants to grab your wrist to stop you. But Sukuna knows that'll earn him a slap. If it doesn't, it'd still be awkward because he's never shown interest in hanging out with you alone before.

“What, are you scared?” He finds himself asking instead, standing to his full height and fixing you with a narrow-eyed look.

You straighten up at that and look over your shoulder, slowly facing him again. Yeah, he's got you.

“Scared of what?”

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he nods his head from side to side. “You know, being alone with me. Maybe you hide behind Yuji. Don't worry, I won't bite.”

You're unimpressed. “Funny.”

There's a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Or is it because of what Satoru said tonight? Think you'll be unable to resist me if we're all alone…and naked?”

There's a flicker of something in your gaze before you glare and push past him, turning his key and storming into his apartment. The baby powder, fabric softener and his cologne wash over you all at once and you hate how the smell feels more homey than your own place. A downside of spending most of your days here.

“Fine then. Let's go shower. Saving water and all that.” You kick off your heels, toss your coat on the rack and make your way to the master bathroom.

Sukuna stands in the entryway, shocked. He didn't drink at all tonight but he's convinced one of his sodas was spiked. Did you just agree to that ridiculous dare?

Rushing water draws him out of his stupor, the sound drowning out your muttering. You're no doubt insulting him and probably calling him a coward. He won't have that.

And so, he toes off his shoes and unbuttons his shirt, a trail of clothing leading to the bathroom that he'll without a doubt get yelled at for later, leaving the last shreds of his shame and hesitance there with it.

“Don't stare at it,” he hisses minutes later when your eyes traitorously drop to his boner again. It's not intentional when you look down. This time at least. The idiot just has the water pressure high and you don't exactly want to be blinking constantly under the beating spray.

“Let me move then! I feel like I'm being pelted in a fucking thunderstorm,” you snap, tired of the abuse from the shower head. He exhales in exasperation before you swap positions and you giggle at the way he's oh so careful to prevent your bodies from touching at all. Not that it was a problem because the shower stall can fit four to five people comfortably.

You're as casual about this as any adult who's seen their fair share of naked bodies would be. It probably helps that you're accustomed to him being shirtless so the tattoos lining his chiseled front and back don't surprise you. The inky bands around his upper thighs do though. They match the ones of his arms.

“So you're used to having dates with your hand in the shower?” You repeat the reason he gave you earlier when his second head stood to attention. You'd been ready to get out when he admitted to fucking his fist in here and he pulled you back, embarrassed about your doubt in his personal hygiene and abilities to clean up after himself. You've been around him long enough to know he takes good care of himself.

He sucks in an agitated breath, trying his damn hardest to not stare at your breasts or lower even as the droplets he's been distracting himself with run down from your hairline to your nose, lips, chin and below until it disappears below your neck into forbidden territory.

“I already said that, didn't I?” He taps his ear. “Did you get water in your ears while washing your hair?” Both of you had already scrubbed down, washing away the grime and sweat from the day from your bodies and hair but he'd seemed to rush it all and you insisted that you should enjoy the shower longer.

“So snappy,” you muse, and you're smiling the widest you ever have at him. At his expense, of course. He should have known.

He wishes he could snap you in half right now. Not really because Yuji would miss you. And he's not one to put his hands on women in any other way than what she wants. Fuck, he doesn't need to be thinking about his past lovers when he's supposed to be showing you how unaffected he is right now. The throbbing problem that smacks his stomach when he moves too quickly is not helping. Why the hell did he invite you over? How is he gonna take care of that now?

Furrowing your brows, you tilt your head to look up at him. It's of no use with the fucking torrential settings of the shower spray so you reach around him to lower it, leaving an inch of space so your bodies don't touch.

Pushing your slicked back hair away from your face, you lean back to take a good look at his face. It's almost as pink as his hair, steam curling up and away from his body, chest rising and falling as steadily as it can as droplets adorn his skin like gems. You also respectfully keep your gaze above his waist.

“I thought we said no ogling,” he grumbles and you're honestly convinced he's going to run out of the bathroom like a caged animal set free.

Huffing in amusement, you step back. “Relax. It's not like you haven't seen a woman before. Can't we both just appreciate each other's forms?”

His eyes thin into slits. “You're not gonna pepper spray me or something, right?”

Tempting but no. “Look, this is your one and only opportunity to freely stare at me. Are you gonna turn it down? I sure as hell am not. Unless you don't want me looking at you?”

There's an indent on the right side of his cheek, jaw flexing as his teeth worry the inner flesh. You don't think you've seen him more unsure than now. Aside from that time when Yuji got sick.

“Are you sure about this?”

You nod. He doesn't blink.

“Yes,” you confirm. “Are you okay with me looking at you? No pressure. We can end it here. I think the dare is fulfilled, no?”

“Wait,” he stops you when you reach to push open the glass door. “Alright, let me look,” he blurts, sounding angry with himself at his lack of cockiness. “Please?”

You face him again and his eyes finally drop from your face to your tits. His attention makes them tighten, nipples pebbling. Your stomach swirls when his gaze dips and you ignore it, taking him in instead. There's the slightest pink happy trail leading down from his navel and it looks like a light red mark nails would leave behind. You're glad you shaved.

Feeling a little too hot now, which you chalk up to the thick steam in here because Sukuna showers with fucking lava, you switch places with him and turn the temperature down to cool yourself. You give him your back and can practically feel his gaze touching you all along your spine, rounding your ass and shapely thighs.

There's silence, only the pitter patter of water, one or two stray cars honks and then the shower door is opening.

“Guess we're done here. Fuck Gojo and his stupid dares,” Sukuna grumbles as he steps out and dries himself.

“You can say that again,” you agree, taking a gulp of fresh air once you're in the hallway.

That's not the last time you two would end up in a bathroom together or water in general. The next time however, he was not welcome.

It's summer so Wasuke and the family decide to go down to their family lake house in the countryside. Yuji is now two and as loud as ever. He's still the cutest kid but god is he talkative and clingy. As much as you love it, you're glad he's got a lot of family to entertain him. He was more of a menace with them than you and Sukuna though, always testing the limits after his mom or dad will tell him no, doing stuff he's not supposed to then pretending it was something else entirely when he was caught and being the definition of an ankle biter.

After a whole day of having him as your tail, taking a walk around the estate to tire him out, playing catch with him, listening to him ramble and only half of it being coherent, you're beat. So you're taking a well-deserved soak in the en-suite bathroom of your bedroom.

The wooden tub is glossy and huge, you could disappear under if you fill it up too high. Minty and fruity notes fill the space with a soothing scent. Your eyelids are drooping and you could fall asleep right here.

But you're not so lucky as you hear Yuji scream for Sukuna. You hardly process it before your bathroom door bursts open, slamming against the wall hard enough to make you flinch and yelp. It's that asshole, looking frantic and wide-eyed. He holds a finger to his lips to shush you before shutting the door.

You mouth “what the fuck?” at him, glad that the iridescent bubbles maintain your dignity as he tiptoes closer, shrugging off his clothes and throwing them into the hamper, giving you a face full of bare ass. It's a nice ass but you did not wanna see it like this.

The recognizable footfalls of a certain toddler are muffled outside the bathroom door and Sukuna all but cannonballs into the fucking tub, sending water everywhere and off the edge of the tub, a puddle forming on the floor and you shriek.

Yuji knocks then opens the door, expression wide-eyed and curious as the bubbles that flew into the air make the place look like a wonderland to the kid.

“Nana, you okay? Where's S'kuna?” He questions, fluffy haired head turning this way and that as he looks for his elusive uncle, respectful enough to not come in because he was taught better.

You mirror his confusion. “I'm okay, bud. I didn't see him. Maybe ask daddy?” You suggest as if the man in question wasn't holding his breath underwater, little air bubbles coming up to the surface.

Yuji hums, scratching his chubby cheek. “Okay. I wanna go fishing!” Of course he does. Sukuna promised that he'd take him yesterday but flaked because he was fucking hungover.

“I'll tell him if I see him, okay?” Yuji nods, happy with that. “Go watch a movie with grandpa. He's got chocolate chip cookies.”

That has his attention instantly. Beaming, the toddler waves you goodbye before bounding out of the room and into the living area, calling out for Wasuke and asking for cookies.

Sukuna shoots out of the water a few seconds later, greedily sucking in oxygen and you're almost annoyed that there might not be enough for you. Half of your irritation fades at the sight of bubbles coating his body like a sudsy article of clothing, all along his arms and atop his head.

“Christ, I thought the motormouth would never leave.” He sighs in relief and you regret not humouring Yuji for longer.

You shove him to the other side of the tub and he gives, floating away like you did him a favor. “Geez, you're a fucking idiot! Out of all the places to hide, you picked to disturb me?” You gather water and splash him with it, making sure it stings and he raises his hands to shield himself from the assault.

“Ow, ow! Sorry, I panicked, okay?” He exclaims, moving his hands away when you stop.

“Why are you ditching him? I was the one with him all day, you should at least take him fishing now! It's not like he isn't gonna sleep soon anyway so it'll be easier,” you chastise.

“Exactly! He's gonna sleep soon. Do you think a two-year-old can sit still long enough? Fishing is a time-consuming activity. He'll jump in the water more times than he can count,” Sukuna argues.

He makes no move to leave even as you scowl at him. But you know you're both in dire need of a break from the kid. He's a handful these days. So you let the idiot relax in the tub with you, playing with the bubbles and talking about nothing in particular. Then you toss a hair towel over his eyes as you climb out and go to dry your hair while he sits there for longer, wanting to become a prune.

It's only the day before you're all about to leave that Sukuna finally takes Yuji fishing. He was an antsy little thing but Sukuna sternly explained the rules (half of which you doubt Yuji caught) and emphasized waiting. You watched them from afar, sipping on mimosas with Yuki while Choso joined the uncle and nephew duo.

Sukuna's face was grumpy most of the time but he cracked a smile and even laughed at Choso's jokes, Yuji guffawing too as if he understood. The two men doted on the little boy, giving him head pats and praise when they'd help him reel in fish. The toddler was empathetic at heart so he insisted on catching and releasing rather than making the fish their food.

Later that night, when the sun set and everyone was indoors, away from the chilly air and cold lake, Sukuna and you sat on the other end of the lake, away from the house, stargazing and enjoying the breeze after days of blistering heat.

That's when you had the bright idea to go skinny dipping.

“You're fucking crazy,” Sukuna barks when you voice the thought.

Rearing back, you smack him in the chest. “Says the guy who's been telling me to stop acting like I'm a grandma.”

He snorts at that, finding himself so funny as he sits there in his unbuttoned shirt, pecs out and abdomen rippling. “You're the one who keeps saying you're too old for this and that when we're only like what? Three years apart in age?”

Kissing your teeth, you push his head away. “Hanging out with your dad makes me feel old and he's pretty active for his age.” You glance around to make sure the elderly man didn't hear that. It would be a hard betrayal after you pulled the, “Sukuna, you didn't tell me you had an older brother” card on him when you first met.

Sukuna stretches his arms out behind him and leans back on them, eyes roaming over the lake then back to you. “Yeah, he is. But you don't have to empathise with the old man's back pains and aches so much that you think you have them.”

“I do though!” You insist as if he doesn't know you're a hypochondriac.

“Keep being a homebody and bed rot will lead you there,” he warns.

You rise to your feet and pull off your dress, your bikini set from earlier underneath. “Let's go skinny dipping then.”

He sputters out his drink. “No fucking way. I'm the one with bad ideas, not you.”

“Don't be a pussy,” you tell him with an eyeroll.

His eyes widened at the word. “Pussy? Isn't that sexist or something? Vaginas are not weak.”

Your nose wrinkles. “No, dumbass. It's slang for pusillanimous which describes cowardice,” you explain.

Tilting his head, Sukuna stares at the calm water. “Huh, you learn something new every day.”

“You coming?” You ask, nodding to the water.

“It's cold, you know?” He says, brows knitted.

“You only live once,” you lamely reply but it works on him.

Sharp and prickling, the icy water hits your back the moment you jump into the water. Sukuna's head is tossed back, laughter booming through the night air as you cut through the surface with a shocking gasp. The fucker had gotten in before you, your backs to each other as you undressed and he lied that the water wasn't bad at all.

“I fucking told you,” he says between bouts of giggles, the sound too high pitched to be considered a chuckle because as much as he's trying to hide it, he's fucking freezing too.

“I hope your balls shrivel up and implode,” you curse through chattering teeth, hair spread out around you like an octopus’ tentacles, darkened strands cling to your face and shoulders, floating on the water.

He winces at the thought or maybe it's the temperature of the water. “That's not fair. Yuji needs a cousin.”

The lake house is far enough from the city that pollution and artificial lights are unable to hide the beauty of night. Stars scattered across the sky like that tube of glitter Yuji got his hands on a few months back and decided to decorate Sukuna's gym bag with. The water reflects the sky and you feel like you're in the cosmos, body bobbing in the water that becomes more bearable the longer you're in it.

Swimming in this silent space feels sacred, surrounded by the towering, whispering pine forest and the faint, comforting amber glow of the lakehouse windows in the distance. The only sounds are the soft, rhythmic splash of your own movements and the distant, melodic call of a night bird, making the world feel profound and incredibly peaceful.

However, as you move further from the shore, the silence begins to feel heavy rather than peaceful. The water around your limbs changes from refreshing to unnervingly cold, feeling thick and almost gelid. The starlight on the surface, once beautiful, now looks fractured, creating dancing, pale shadows that resemble swimming creatures just below the surface. The dense, dark forest seems to move closer, its jagged, silhouetted treeline looming over the water. Suddenly, the immense, bottomless depth beneath you feels active, and the absolute solitude of the night turns the serene, scenic swim into a heart-pounding, primal experience of being watched from the darkness.

Does it help that Yuji's current interests include a low-budget, shitty CGI film about giant crocodiles spawning from nowhere and death rolling unsuspecting people to the watery demise? No, it does not. His parents seriously need to stop letting him watch that stuff. No wonder he's tried to bite you ten times today alone. That and his uncle does it to him often enough for him to have picked it up.

“Hey, Sukuna, maybe we should head inside now,” you quietly suggested. The man is too busy being mesmerized by the view too, not that he'd admit this wasn't a completely stupid idea.

You're having your regrets.

He glances at you with a grouchy expression as if he wasn't just starry eyed in awe. “Are you kidding? We've been in here for like ten minutes at most, it's just getting better.”

“You stay then, I'm leaving.” Whirling around, water sloshing with your spin, your wade towards the shore.

You don't get that far.

There's a brush against your legs spanning from your toes to your calf with enough force that your brain conjures up a hand grasping at you. The scream you let out scares the birds out of their nests.

Sukuna whips his head around so fast, he almost gets whiplash. He has no time to recover as a naked blur lunges at him with a wet slap as it collides with his front, nearly tripping him as a wave rolled behind him from the force. You're wriggling like a fish on land as he holds you on either side of your hips, still reeling from being jumped on.

“Jesus, woman. What the fuck is your problem?” He shouts, trying to stop your flailing.

Treating him like a human buoy, you lock your legs around his waist and inch up higher, his wet not helping your scaling. Elbow resting on one of his broad shoulders, you don't pay any mind to the fact that your tits are nearly touching his chin as your eyes search the water you'd previously been in.

“Shush! Something touched my foot,” you whisper-yell at him, so fast that he barely catches your words. Your death grip on his body and nails digging into his arm are enough to tell him you got spooked.

Like the prick he is, he grins at you mischievously, too amused by your fear. In his defense, it's entirely irrational. He knows it's a reed or something harmless like that.

“And you think I'm gonna save you?” He tries and fails to peel you off of him. You're like one of those kittens that claw at their owners and hang on even if you attempt to shake them off.

Pulling back to look at him, even further when you can make out all the glistening droplets, goosebumps on his tawny flesh that's tinted navy blue from the water and the slight fade of his dark tattoos, you frown at him. “You won't? I knew those muscles were only for show.”

He bends forward and loosens his hold like he's going to drop you and your arms loop around his neck, clinging onto him for your dear life. A strangled sound leaves him and you realise you were choking him.

“Shit, sorry! But you better not toss me in the water. I don't know what's in there.” You shake your head vigorously and he shudders when your icy strands stick to his back, cold bleeding into his bare skin.

Clicking his tongue, Sukuna stares off into the distance with a look that says he's done with everything, mostly you. “Alright, I'll protect you. Look at me, what's gonna come for you when I'm around?”

He feels you relax a bit and is about to preen when you open your mouth once more.

“You're right! You have more of a shot of surviving than I do,” you muse, the hope in your tone comical. You truly believe there's something hunting you.

“I do, don't I?” He puffs out his chest, smug.

“Unless it's a Kraken. Then you'll give it a little trouble, buy me some time so I can escape.”

“A Kraken?”

“Those giant octopus monsters that sink ships and stuff,” you explain as if he didn't already know.

His brows lower. “As in the mythical creature?”

“You don't know for sure if they're just a myth!”

A dozen different ways to call you stupid are on the tip of his tongue but this ridiculous topic is distracting you from your fear so he entertains it.

“What's your plan if there is one in this lake?” He bites back a smile when you shiver at the thought.

You think about it. “After it takes you as bait, I'll be set free. But if it sees you as a worthy opponent to fight and tries to take me as a captive, I'll just have to beg it to set me free with my pretty, doe eyes and innocent nature.”

Sukuna snickers as you flutter your wet lashes like you're trying to flirt with the monster. “Yeah and what about me?”

Your response is an eyeroll. “I'll ask very sweetly to free you because your nephew will miss you very much.”

“Oh, so that's my only purpose, huh? To be an uncle. Glad you cleared that up for me before I decided to do soul-searching.”

You pat his chest and his pecs tense. “You're welcome. Moving on—”

Expression severe, you stare at the water like you're waiting for the kraken to burst out already. “After the creature is enchanted by my magnetic presence and frees you, it may see you as a threat. Territory rules and all that stuff. So it will challenge you to a duel.”

“I can take a kraken,” he declares with the misplaced confidence that plagues most mortal men. He could take it but definitely not in the honorable way he's picturing.

You pay him no mind. “But I'll tell the kraken that you're no threat and that he can whisk me away to his underwater kingdom and deposit his eggs in my womb. In fact, I'd be upset with him for assuming I'd stoop as low as to be with your pathetic, rude ass—”

Sukuna was as invested in your story as well as deeply concerned for your mental stability. He didn't even want to ask about that egg thing. It made his skin crawl. Utahime needed to stop debriefing you about her latest monster romance reads.

“That's it. You're going back in the water. Insulting me while I'm your lifeline is crazy.”

Eyes bulging, you wrap your limbs around him like a vice, a constrictor suffocating its prey. “Okay! Okay! I'm sorry. You can put me down after you find what touched my foot.”

His strong brow is lowered, shadows dark so you can't tell where his brows end and his eyes begin. Lips tucked into his mouth, his ruby gaze is almost a murky amethyst at night. Who gives an ultimatum when they're the ones who need help?

“You're impossible.” He heaves a sigh but still shuffles forward in the water, using his feet against the lake bed to feel around for whatever touched you. All he can make out are reeds and the occasional rock.

He's about to call you a scaredy cat when something brushes his leg and he jolts. You startle too. He mentally applauds himself for not letting out the very unmanly sound that lodged in his throat.

“What is it? Did you feel it?” You ask, pressing further into him. He thinks you've long forgotten your nudity but he hasn't. It just doesn't faze him anymore given how blithe you've been about it lately.

Sukuna's not about to look like a wuss in front of you. You'd never let him live it down. So he squats in the water and grabs what brushed his leg.

Would that have been a dumb move in a horror movie?

100%.

You screech as he yanks it out, water raining down on you. Both of you look at it at the same time.

It was in fact a reed.

With a sneer, he turns his head to you and slaps the sopping green leaf onto your calf. You cringe.

Hand coming up, he pats your head condescendingly. “See? I've got you. It's just a little old reed.”

Embarrassment burns your face as you release him and silently slip back into the water. He misses your warmth (and using your breasts as a place to rest his chin).

“Right, I knew that,” you chuckle dismissively.

Narrowing his eyes, toothy grin on his face, he grumbles out his own laugh. “Who would've thought you were a fraidy cat? Poor baby.”

You grab the source of your fear and slap it over his eyes like a blindfold before marching out of the water, slower than you wanted because of the pull of it.

“Fucking jerk, shut up and don't look,” you call back as you hastily dress yourself and stomp back to the house.

Sukuna follows after a few minutes of laughing and recounting everything that happened. The fleeting thought of you becoming Yuji's godmother is at the forefront of his mind again. His father and Jin insist that Sukuna should get married first before he gets legal guardianship of his nephew. He always thought that was a load of bull and that he'd be fine taking care of the kid alone if anything happened to his parents. But now, the image of Yuji and you cuddling up beside him to hide from scary sounds doesn't sound that bad.

“Get out of the water before you get sick, idiot,” Wasuke's voice booms from the lake house deck. Sukuna makes out your own voice egging the old man on, something about you telling Sukuna the same thing earlier but he wouldn't listen.

Yeah, he could get used to that, he thinks as he smiles like an idiot and stretches his arms over his head, not a care in the world about lake monsters coming to snatch him up.

When he turned to face you, you realised that he was as intimidating from the front as he was from the back. His expression would have anyone wanting to retreat, ink making him more severe. Downturned mouth, furrowed brows, crimson eyes, and a clenched jaw as he glared at you down the line of his strong nose. While you were taken aback, your hackles rose and you were ready to forget this whole thing and leave when the hard line of his lips broke into a blinding smile. You found yourself smiling back.

He repeated your name, voice deep and velvet. It slid over your skin like the taste of good whiskey, smooth and warm. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I'm Sukuna.”

Gaze dropping to your outstretched hands, he whistled as he pulled off his beanie, revealing fluffy coral hair. “Strawberry macarons? How'd you know my favorite flavor?” He arched a dark brown as he took the box from you.

Shrugging, you let your arms settle at your sides. “I'm psychic. You should let me read your palm some time.” That earned you a chuckle, after some uneventful small talk, you bid him goodbye and went into your apartment.

Living here just got even better. Everyone was welcoming and friendly and now you had eye candy next door. If only you could tell your past self that the dreamy honeymoon phase of moving here would only last a few weeks.

The scary looking man next door who just so happened to be nice wasn't the greatest neighbor. He wasn't the kind who would play handyman to fix a leak under your sink or change a particularly difficult lightbulb, let you borrow ingredients (not that you asked) or offer to help carry your groceries inside. Alright, maybe you were being too hard on him. He did the heavy lifting when you were bringing up your new bookshelf.

However, that did not cancel out his inconsiderate behaviour. When you reside in close proximity to someone else, you tend to unconsciously pick up their routine. He'd go for a run in the morning, sometimes to the office but he also worked from home, the evenings were for the gym or going out with his friends. You'd hear him come back to the apartment late some nights. Sometimes you'd see him in the mornings when you were going to your pilates class or when you were coming back from a hangout. Your workplace was a bit far from where you lived but you were allowed to work from home.

Nothing was wrong with any of that, of course. The problem arose when he would bring women over. When it first happened, you had been getting ready for bed. Just as you crawled under the covers, a groan stopped you. Frowning, you questioned if you left the TV on. But after checking, you realised it wasn't. As you were about to chalk it up to your imagination, a distorted murmur sounded which made you shriek and dive under your sheets. You were not a fan of horror movies but you sure as hell heard the noises ghosts made.

Your fear dissipated as the groans happened more frequently, sometimes there were sobs and muffled cries which made you clutch your phone in case you had a domestic violence case occurring right under your nose. But the pants, cusses, steady knocking, moans and whimpers that followed settled the turmoil coiling in your belly.

It was just Sukuna getting some. Good for him. That interruption was solved with music and your headphones.

Leniency was your mistake. You even joked with him about his sexual escapades when you saw him the next time. He shot you a wink. Now he had lady friends coming over every second night. And each time seemed to get louder than the fucking previous time. The women came in different shapes and sizes too so at least the guy was giving everyone a taste without discrimination. But fuck it was irritating. Some women sounded like they were being dragged away by a demon and you wondered if the man was an exorcist with the way you'd see the same conquest skipping out of his apartment and glowing the next morning.

Honestly, it made you question if you were really missing out. So one night while you were out on the town with your friends, you decided to take a handsome stranger home. Only to be disappointed and reminded that men in the market now were pathetic. You had half the mind to call Gojo, your friend and ex-lover. But you stopped that arrangement when it got too comfortable and you found yourself expecting boyfriend perks from a fuck buddy. He was bummed by it but accepted it.

As for Sukuna, you completely understand him—he's young and full of drive just like you are. This noise pollution though is excessive.

You're at your limit one night when you've had a hard week at work, difficult clients and clearing deadlines taking a toll on you. All you wanted to do was curl up on your couch and read a book. Then like clockwork, the “ohs” “ahs” “fucks” and “yesss” serenade started from the apartment next door. You ignored it at first, noise-cancelling earphones on. But the damn thumping that traveled through the walls might as well have been the fucking headboard knocking against your skull. To top it off, you were at the climax of your book and read the same paragraph fifteen times without a single word registering.

Tossing your book onto the couch so hard that it bounced, you slid on your slippers and went to your front door, swinging it open and marching to the next one. Fist clenched, you pounded on the door. There was some commotion but the noises stopped with a whine of complaint and an apology.

Moments later, the man of the hour was standing before you, looking frustrated. “Calm down. No need to bang on it so rough—Oh! Hey, neighbor.” His annoyance melted when he saw that it was you and he braced a hand on the door frame.

“Don't “hey, neighbor” me. And I could say the same thing to you. Do you know how loud you are? There are other people in the building,” you snapped.

He blinked like you spat at him, straightening up. “Come on now, do you think I'm a woman? ‘Cause those noises weren't me.”

Huffing at his attempt at a joke, you crossed your arms over your chest, uncaring that you were in just a tank top, shorts and a robe. It didn't matter any since he was shirtless, littered with hickies, sweat and who-knows-what-else that was glistening on him, pink hair in disarray like his backwards boxers.

“Are you trying to be funny or something?”

He scrunched one side of his face. “Or something.”

Further irritated by his lack of apology or remorse, you stepped up to him. Chin raised, nose cocked in the air, you glowered.

“Listen here, punk.” You could see the protest on his face at your name-calling but you didn't let him get a word in. “I've fucking had it with you running this place like it's a goddamn brothel. Some people have school or work tomorrow and they can't afford to be disturbed by an overgrown frat boy who can't conceptualize the fact that there are lives outside of his own.”

His brows creased, hand dropping from the frame to stand to his full height and speak up for himself. Despite him being a head or more taller than you, you still regarded him as if he were a mouse. Vitriol coated his tongue, ready to cut you down with his words.

Your nail poking him in the chest had his temper flaring but your gaze was so withering that his mind blanked. “Keep it fucking down before I call security or worse—an ambulance because my neighbor accidentally fell off his balcony.”

Did you just threaten him? His lips parted but you whirled around, long hair smacking him in the face and making him sputter as you stomped back into your apartment, slamming the door shut with finality.

You might as well have declared war because now he deliberately targets you albeit while ensuring his partners lower their voices. He parks in your spot, puts your mail in another person's box, takes your delivery boxes when you aren't home and apparently forgets to tell you until you're confused as to why your packages are delivered when they weren't.

Fighting fire with fire isn't wise but you were up against Sukuna so nothing was fair anyway. You clapped back by driving slow in front of him whenever you saw him pulling out of the parking lot, sending solicitors to his door to spread their religion or sell a product, doing the same with his calls by signing him up for different call center promotions and scattering bird seeds on his balcony so there were flocks of them there when he came out.

Safe to say that you were far from friendly now. Throwing scowls and sneers at each other in passing. He missed your stupid baking and you missed the eye candy but neither was worth being on civil terms. Occasionally, he'd let his lovers be loud just to irk you but didn't let it happen often enough for you to tear him a new one about it.

Then, as if all your meaningless curses came into fruition, the awful moans from his apartment were replaced with the wailing of a baby. You thought you were hearing things at first but the hiccuping cries were certainly from a baby and the hushing was from that asshole next door. A devious cackle left you at that, the gruelling paperwork you had to read through suddenly very appealing. Something about his irresponsible ways finally catching up with you fed your motivation as twisted as it sounded.

Fortunately for everyone, Sukuna manages to pacify the child for the most part. You hear the giggles and gurgles of the little one often enough to assume that he lives with the man full time. You never hear a woman's voice so he's either got custody or she left the baby with him. It's none of your business so you don't bother asking.

Shrieking shocks you out of your series-binging one lazy afternoon. You jolted up, heart pounding. Sukuna is trying and failing to calm the baby. The sounds are distressing, you even hear the residents downstairs murmur in concern. It's only been a week or two since the baby's appearance and now you're questioning if Sukuna's recklessness is affecting the kid's life.

And God, the infant has a strong set of lungs with how long and how loud he's screaming, inconsolable. You hear Sukuna try to sing to him, shitty attempt by the way, and that upsets the child some more.

Like deja vu, you stand up and head to the door, opening it to go next door and see what the hell is the issue. You're stopped in your tracks when you find the said man there, looking frazzled with the squirming, chunky baby cradled to his chest. The cries make you wince, ears ringing from how piercing they are.

“Ugh, did the excellent pull-out game you thought you had fail you?” You cringe, covering your ears, eyes on the red-faced baby who doesn't look older than six months with a light pink head of hair.

Sukuna rears back, voice raising to talk over the baby's noise. “What? You think this is my kid? I'm not careless, woman.”

With a scoff, you roll your eyes. “Look here, big guy. He may have been born yesterday but I wasn't. You expect me to believe that the child who's got the same hair colour as you isn't yours?”

His brows shoot up to his hairline. “You're serious? That's like accusing someone with brown hair of being related to their partner who has brown hair.”

That siblings or dating reasoning doesn't really make sense. “Well excuse me if pink hair isn't common.” You toss your hands up.

Overstimulated by arguing with you and the crying baby, Sukuna grunts in defeat.

“Okay, whatever you say, just—Can you help?” He moves closer and you step back in surprise.

Hands out, you pause. “Hold on, what makes you think I know my way around babies?”

Sukuna shrugs. “You're a woman, aren't you? Don't you have like—” He gestures to your being with his head.

“Huh? You think I have maternal instincts just because I was born a female?” You were outraged.

He grimaces. “Shit, that sounds really obnoxious when you say it like that. Just please, help me. He won't shut the fuck up.”

Your head snapped up at that. “Don't talk about a baby that way! He doesn't know any better!”

Sukuna gives an apologetic smile laced with desperation. “See? You're protective already. Kidding!” He adds the last part when you look like you'd hit him if not for the precious cargo in his hands.

That precious cargo is still hiccupping and sobbing but is just a smidge calmer after all the commotion between you and his in denial dad. Looking over his shoulder, big brown glassy eyes meet yours, surrounded by thick, long lashes that are coated with tears, little nose red and a fat bottom lip. When he reaches for you, you feel your aversion crumble with his wet babble.

“Gosh, hand him over,” you mutter, the annoyance in your voice softened as you scoop up the baby. “Maybe he's hungry?” You suggest, leaving your apartment and walking over to Sukuna's since all the baby supplies are there. He shuts your door and follows.

“You think I didn't check? He threw the damn bottle at my head,” Sukuna grumbles, rubbing his chest as if it still hurts.

“What about his diaper?” You ask, stepping into Sukuna's apartment for the first time, the baby's cries lessening but still worrying.

“Changed him just a few minutes ago,” Sukuna replies, shutting the door behind him as he watches you bounce the little one in hopes of soothing him. He's a bit miffed that the kid calmed down with you, even if it wasn't entirely. “No loyalty.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” he dismisses.

Just a glance around his apartment revealed that the baby was an unexpected addition. The sleek interior was simple and comfortable, charcoal grey walls and furnishings with brick accents giving the place a masculine feel. His expensive appliances were a stark contrast to the baby formula, bottles and food next to them on the counter. The leather couch had colourful rattles, stuffed toys and a blanket covered in dinosaurs on it. Boxes for a car seat, crib and stroller were in the hallway.

“So we've established that…” You trailed off, tilting your head.

“Yuji,” Sukuna provided before you could ask.

Finding the name cute, you beamed at the baby. “Yuji isn't hungry or wet. Maybe sleepy?”

“He woke up just before I changed his diaper,” his dad tells you.

Humming, you paced with the baby, trying to figure out what else may help. “Does your daddy suck? Is that why you're cranky?”

Flushing, Sukuna growls as he tidies up his space. “For the last time, I am not his dad. I'm his uncle, actually.”

“Yeah? Where's his parents then?” You challenge and he hesitates.

Clearing his throat, he focuses on clearing the couches of the toys, putting them in a box. “They're gone for a few weeks.”

You squint, skeptical. “Uh-huh.”

The baby's tantrum kick starts once again and you're back to trying to figure out what's wrong. With an inspection of his mouth, you find that he's teething.

“Oof, teething is a bitch. You got any teething toys for him?” You glance at Sukuna who looks as if you asked him to do rocket science.

Two hours later, you're sitting on the couch with the baby in his sofa seat, frozen teething toy in his chubby hands as he gums on it, content like he wasn't screaming his guts out earlier. While the toy helped, the real savior came in the form of a low resolution anime on YouTube.

“Dinosaur King? The fuck is this? Looks like a Pokémon knock-off,” Sukuna complains from the kitchen island, the open-planned space allowing him to watch from there and make his stupid comments.

“It's similar but it has its own premise,” you defend, adjusting Yuji's bib.

He clicks his tongue. “Yeah, right. Which idiot even watches this? Why are there 3D dinosaurs in a fucking 2D show—”

You turn to glare at him. “Stop swearing so much. And for the record, I quite enjoyed this as a kid.”

That shuts him up, his brows bouncing as he goes to the fridge as if he's got a lot to say. “That checks out.”

“Oh, really? Want me to turn it off and see what happens?” You hold the remote as if it's a bomb activator, which, given the baby's fragile mood, feels a lot like one.

His eyes narrow, never leaving you as he grabs you both a can of soda from the fridge and walks over, plopping down on the other side of his nephew.

“Geez, you're a cruel woman.” And for someone who had many complaints about the show, his eyes were glued to it, expression curious and mirroring the baby's.

That incident left you two on better terms. Not exactly friends but acquaintances who shared a fondness for Yuji. Try as you might, the little boy weaved his way into your heart with every bubbly giggle and gummy smile he shines your way. And when he'd grip your fingers in his little hand, you were a puddle of affection. While you did not see yourself having children ever given how costly and how much responsibilities they came with, you didn't mind taking care of this kid now and then.

Who knows what nonsense his bad influence uncle was putting into his growing brain? What if the jerk was snorting coke and drinking like a fish while watching the baby? It was better for the peace of mind of yourself and the well-being of the baby if you babysat him now and then. Sukuna was looking into getting a nanny since his life was busy but when you offered in exchange for a whole load of food because you had plenty of money already, he was more than grateful. That's how it started—you got his annoyingly good cooking and he got someone he reluctantly trusted with his nephew. You took the task seriously, reading up on babies, their playtime, mobility exercises and nurturing needs.

Most of the time, you would watch Yuji at his apartment because all the baby stuff was there. Your apartment wasn't exactly baby proof anyway. You'd sleep in the guest room if Sukuna was going to be out late for work, waking up to feed Yuji at three in the morning routinely just as his uncle got back home. Having to tend to a little baby was fun, you got to have your very own dress up doll. Sukuna had a whole range of rompers, animal onesies, beanies, shoes and matching sets for the kid. Combing his hair was a success for only a few days then he'd mess it up almost purposely so the wispy locks were sticking out which made him squeal in delight. You'd sit with Yuji in front of mirrors to flaunt his outfit and gushed about how handsome he looked which he'd coo at and reward you with cute grins, showing off his two new bottom teeth.

(Of course only a fool would accept staying at a complete stranger's home so often but that's why you carried a backpack filled with ammunition from pepper spray to an aluminum baseball bat in case you were granted with the opportunity of using them on his thug-looking “uncle.”)

Yuji spent most of his days taking naps, sitting on your lap while you spoke to him, crawling all over you like you were his very own playground while going “ba-ba-ba,” having tummy time, splashing around in the bath and drinking lots of milk. He wasn't a very moody baby, he enjoyed babbling and cooing with round eyes and expressive eyebrows as if he was telling you stories. He loved walks in the park across the street too, pointing out things for you to tell him about and basking in the compliments of strangers. As long as he was cuddled a lot and showered in attention, he was content. Though Sukuna thought you spoiled him which you ignored because how the hell could that count as overindulgence? He's a baby!

There were instances where he'd throw up on you and have a nuclear waste worthy dump in his diaper. Sukuna and you would play rock paper scissors on who had to do it and he always lost to you. On the occasion you lost, you'd just run to your apartment, cackling, leaving him to deal with the stinky baby.

After too many drinks with his friends, Sukuna stumbled back into his apartment, slumping beside you on the couch and spilling the beans on Yuji's absent parents. Apparently his twin brother, Jin and his wife, Kaori were battling with a gambling and drug addiction. The substance abuse had begun after Yuji's birth but the gambling addiction had been prevalent even before. So the couple would disappear for weeks on end, worrying Wasuke, Sukuna's father. Sukuna didn't want to stress his dad so he kept this a secret from him and decided to take care of Yuji himself for the time being.

The story has surprised you. All this time you thought Sukuna was playing guardian because he had no other choice when in reality, he could hand the kid over to his dad and let the nannies who helped raise him and his brother handle it. As much as he complained and acted like the baby was a nuisance, you knew he loved him, and saw how he'd soften when Yuji would ask for him or when he'd play with him.

Since that night, Sukuna was more present as if he had a lot of time on his hands. You would go out with your friends and have fun too but you always missed the little boy and checked on him whatever time you came back, the habit sunken into the marrow of your bones. And maybe it had a bit to do with him saying more vowels now, brows furrowing as if he was eager to start talking so you wanted to be there when it happened.

Yuji sat in his high chair, donning denim overalls with a yellow tee inside and red sneakers, mouth open for the next airplane of pureed sweet potatoes. He was an impatient kid, huffing and puffing and kicking his stubby little legs if the food didn't get in his mouth fast enough.

Phone buzzing, you picked it up without checking the caller ID and trapped it between your shoulder and ear as you fed the demanding baby. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweets! How are you? Haven't heard from you in a while,” the voice belonging to none other than Gojo Satoru sings from the other end of the line.

You bite back a sigh, smiling at Yuji who's got orange mush and drool smeared around his mouth even after you've wiped it many times.

“I'm good, Gojo. How are you?” You return politely, aware that he's calling to see if you're willing to hook up again. It was easy with him because he was so charismatic, confident and eccentric. It keeps you on your toes.

But now, you're older—well, not really since this was just months ago—and casual sex wasn't appealing anymore. You wanted stability and hell, you had it. Bringing a man into your life was throwing a wrench into the works.

“I'd be better if you let me come see you sometime. You haven't even shown me your new place.” You can hear his overexaggerated pout over the line.

Hip against the counter, you sigh. “You'll see it soon enough.” He was dramatic but you knew he wasn't celibate in all these months he hasn't seen you. Not that you cared, it was his life.

Groaning, he practically whined into the receiver. “Fine but you know who to call when you need to be taken care of or want anything really.” That brought a smile to your face because if anything, Gojo was a great friend.

“Alright, I will—” A fussy squeal cut you off and you startled, looking over at the very cranky baby that you had forgotten. Even with those plump cheeks, he still wanted more sweet potatoes.

Before you could end the call, Gojo gasped so hard, you're surprised he didn't choke.

“Oh my gosh, that's why you ended things! You secretly had my baby,” he accuses, half-joking.

Sputtering, you put another spoonful in Yuji's mouth. “Pardon? This is not your baby.”

“It adds up,” he muses. “We haven't seen each other in five months.”

His math sucked. “Don't you think I would've been showing if that were the case, genius?” You pointed out, putting your phone on speaker so you could tend to the baby.

He scoffs. “Cryptic pregnancies are a thing. Poor you! You should've told me. You had to go through all of that alone. I may be too young for fatherhood but I'd take responsibility.”

Sukuna walked in right then, brows scrunched. “Who's that?”

“Is that the step dad? Babe, you move on fast—” Gojo's embarrassing response is interrupted when you end the call.

“An idiot friend who thinks I had his baby,” you say with a wave. Picking up Yuji who finally decided he was full, you carry him over to the sink to wash his face and hands.

Sukuna eyes your phone then you. “A friend, huh?” He repeats, knowing that if your friend said that they were either joking or you've slept with them.

You catch it in his tone and nod. “Yeah, a friend.”

He stares at you for a second longer then snorts as he unpacks the groceries and puts them away.

“If you say so. Though I doubt your friend has pink hair so if anyone's the dad, it'd be me,” he tells you unexpectedly.

Huffing in surprise, you set Yuji on your hip, dabbing his face with a cloth. “Is that so? I thought pink hair didn't mean he's your son.”

The man tosses you a half-lidded, mildly amused glance. For some reason, it makes your stomach flip—a development you just discovered with abject horror.

“Come on, it's obvious that it'd be me. Anyone would think so with how much time we've been spending together,” he reminds you. And yes, you're a bit mortified by how many times people have thought Sukuna and you were parents to Yuji when you were out together.

“Please, with your track record, half the city is probably pregnant with your pink-haired babies,” you retort, handing Yuji over when he makes grabby hands for his uncle.

His uncle accepts him, nuzzling his nose against the little boy's cheek. A baby in his arms makes Sukuna look way less mean and unapproachable especially when his face is getting squished and tattoos poked at.

“Is that what you think?” He mumbles through puckered lips as Yuji's tiny hand smushes them together. He leans away to continue. “I'll have you know that I haven't brought anyone over since this little guy was left with me.”

His nephew moved onto messing up Sukuna's carefully styled hair while you stifled a laugh and tried to hold the conversation, wanting to have the last word as always.

“Right as if you weren't taking that business elsewhere,” you counter, taking the empty bowl and spoon and putting them in the sink.

Sukuna looks at you as if you're dumb. “What? Woman, I haven't been with anyone since Yuji's been in my care. Dealing with the firsthand consequences of the deed makes it way less appealing.”

(That and a certain neighbor who's ready to bite his head off at any moment. Cameras are installed all over his apartment so he's seen that as much as you're standoffish with him, you're not a stranger to having dance parties in his living room with Yuji kicking his legs and jutting out his arms to the music and other shenanigans he can't tease you about just yet. It made you endearing. Not that he'll admit it nor will you guess it.)

Rolling your eyes, you bring over a bottle of water to feed Yuji so he can digest his solids better, holding it up for him. The proximity gives Sukuna a direct view down your top but he's a gentleman and keeps his eyes on his nephew.

“Don't believe me? What, you don't wanna have cute babies with me?” He asks, amused by your unimpressed expression.

You take the bottle from Yuji, missing his discontent pout. “Ah wan’ more,” he babbles.

“You don't trust me after all of this time,” Sukuna lamented jokingly as if it wasn't just over two months of you two doing this makeshift coparenting.

As you're about to respond, something clicks for both of you, eyes widening as you look at the baby who's waiting expectantly.

“Did he just—”

“Was that an “I want more” or am I crazy?”

You and Sukuna ask at the same time before laughing and smothering Yuji in hugs, giving him another sip of water like he asked.

A month later, Yuji's steadily growing, his hair getting longer, sitting at his nape now and his liking for dinosaurs is at an all time high. Most of his wardrobe consists of the prehistoric creatures and his favorite plush is a brachiosaurus. He points to tyrannosauruses on screen and says, “‘Ku” which is what he calls Sukuna sometimes instead of “Dada.” Sukuna insists on it but you see the way he melts every time the boy slips up.

It's late one night when Yuji stirs, the mere sound of his whines waking you. Sukuna's out with his friends. You'd gone out last night with yours so you and Yuji spent most of the day napping as you were nursing your hangover so you anticipated that he'd wake up around this time past midnight.

Preparing his milk, you scoop him out of his crib, shushing him as you head back to the guest bedroom. Back against the headboard, you bring your knees up and hold him to your chest, his head resting in the crook of your arm as you put the bottle in his mouth. His eyes are wide open, inspecting all the lights on the ceiling and smiling around the teat as he bats his lashes at you.

You boop his nose, talking to him like he's a grown up as usual. It's for sure helped him understand better even if he isn't old enough to speak back or fully comprehend what you're saying.

The front door shutting alerts you of Sukuna's arrival. You hear his footsteps carry him to the nursery only for a confused “eh?” to sound from him when he finds it empty. His shadow falls across the guestroom doorway before he walks in.

“There's the chubby brat. Is he troubling you?” Sukuna asks, no signs of inebriation as he comes over and takes the other side of the bed.

“No but you are. Who said you could sleep here?” You raise a brow as if this isn't his place. Yuji squirms so you lift him a bit, his uncle in his view now.

“Relax, I'm here for my nephew. I'll be out of your hair soon.” He flicks his wrist at you.

Being the irritant he is, he rips the bottle out of Yuji's mouth with a wet pop, startling the baby. His face instantly scrunches, taking a deep inhale to let out the loudest cry but Sukuna gives him the bottle back and he forgets about it. This back and forth goes on for a few minutes, uncle chuckling meanly and mocking the whines and complaining babbles his nephew makes.

You find it funny but don't dare laugh as Yuji gets offended when you gang up on him. So you swat Sukuna's hand away and let the baby finish his milk in peace. You never get tired of watching him, especially when his eyes drooped, lids getting heavier with each blink until they flutter shut, bottle going slack in his mouth save for the one or two half-hearted suckles.

“He looks drunk on it,” you whisper, turning to Sukuna.

Only to find him asleep as well, using your thigh as a pillow. You just hadn't noticed with the baby's weight on you. Offended, you want to push him off but his grumpy face smoothened out into something innocent stopped you. The room was quiet, only the sounds of their even breaths filling your ears.

At that very moment, something warmed in your chest and the corner of your heart where Yuji was tucked away expanded to encompass his uncle too. The mushy thought had you making a face. You did not like Sukuna like that. Surely not. You just grew fond of him. Platonically. As a byproduct of spending time with his nephew.

Pushing away the troublesome thought, another mischievous one popped into your head. Angling Yuji's bottle as if it were in Sukuna's mouth, you grabbed your phone and took a picture.

There was no shutter or flash but as you snickered quietly and moved your phone away, you held back a gasp to find one of his eyes open, boring into you with that ruby red glint in his iris like a scene out of Jurassic Park.

“I saw that,” he mumbled into your thigh. Turning his head away, he didn't seem to notice or care that his lips brushed your bare skin as your face heated up in embarrassment.

Yuji was right—Sukuna really was a fucking tyrannosaur.

“It’s not funny! I look like an idiot!” you snapped back. “Really, would it be so hard for you to let me walk with my dignity intact?” Sabo gestured to the ground, which was covered in shrapnel, debris, and shattered glass.

“You’re not wearing shoes. As much as I respect your autonomy I’d rather not have you slicing them to ribbons,” Sabo pointed out. You huffed a little – he was right, but you weren’t going to admit it. In all the hubbub of the RA attack, you hadn’t remembered to put on your shoes. You hated wearing those stupid heels and often spent your time barefoot when you could.

“Besides, I doubt you care. And no one you know is here to see it anyway, you let everyone else escape. Oh! I have an idea! I’ll carry you like this instead,” Sabo said with a smile. Before you knew it he maneuvered you so he was carrying you bridal style, clutched tightly to his chest.

“This is worse!” you griped. Though, truth be told, it was a more comfortable position for you. If he insisted on carrying you, it might as well be this way. “Where are you taking me?” you asked, your bare feet dangling. 

“To our ship. Like I said, you’re coming with me. I’m not losing you again,” he said, making his way down to the docks. 

“Obviously. You know that’s not what I meant,” you scoffed as Sabo kept walking. Your estate wasn’t on a large island, so you could already see the RA flagship bobbing in the high tide. You licked your lips nervously – you hoped your servants could still get away. The man carrying you did seem to be Sabo, but you didn’t completely believe everything he told you about the Revolutionary Army. Not that you believed everything the nobles said either, but you didn’t want your servants to bear the brunt of their wrath if you were wrong about the Revolutionary Army.

As Sabo quickly made his way down towards the dock, you didn’t see the ship that your servants had been instructed to board. Perhaps they were still in the cove, waiting for the RA to leave. Either way, you didn’t want them to think they had to remain on the island and wait for your shitty husband to return. You wanted better for them – better than working for your shitty husband on some forgotten island in the middle of nowhere. 

“Sabo, can you do something for me?” you asked, looking him in the face. Your eyes unintentionally focused on the scar on the left side of his face. Your fingers were half raised as if to touch it, but you curled them back into your palm. It wouldn’t do to touch a strange man, no matter if you were childhood friends or not.

“Mmh. Anything for my wife,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. You rolled your eyes – Sabo clearly didn’t have the same concerns you did. 

“Sabo, I’m serious. I know you’re taking me somewhere, but I need you to promise me something,” you said, gripping his shoulder with one hand. Sabo’s eyes roved over your face before he gave you a curt nod.

“I need you to leave a message for the servants. Tell them they are free to leave the island, to stay if they wish, or to join the Revolutionary Army, whatever they want to do. They are all released from their contracts and can take what they wish from the mansion. I don’t want them staying out of fear for what will happen to them either with you or with…” you trailed off, not wanting the words to pass your lips. The less you thought about your lawfully wedded husband, the better.

“The current owner of the estate,” Sabo finished for you. His arms gripped you a little tighter but he didn’t falter in his footsteps. You nodded, stroking and tugging on your earlobe with your fingers. 

“Alright, I can do that. I can tell you don’t believe me about what the RA does –”

“I mean, it’s not that I don’t believe you, but I also thought you were dead for the past decade until about fifteen minutes ago. Things can change quickly, you know?” you interrupted. Even though you didn’t really know Sabo anymore, your heart felt lighter with the hope that he’d be able to save your servants from being stuck on the island. 

“They’re in the cove, right? The hidden one on the far side of the island? I assume that’s where the tunnels under the estate go. I’ll have someone send a message over,” Sabo said, adjusting you a little higher on his arms. 

“How did you know?” you asked, your mouth open in shock. Sabo laughed as he approached the dock.

“This isn’t our first island takeover. We do our due diligence before we come. Besides, who do you think tipped us off that the brutal owner wasn’t here? A few of your servants aren’t as loyal to your ex husband as you think,” he stated, walking down the wooden dock. You were going to remark that he wasn’t your ex when Sabo took a few steps up the gangplank to the RA’s giant ship.

“EEE! BE CAREFUL SABO!” you yelped, twining your arms around his neck. You hadn’t been so near to the water in years, always afraid you were going to drown.

“Whoa, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Sabo asked, gripping you tightly. His head swiveled left and right, but there was nothing to see.

“No, no, not that. I can’t swim. I was just scared you’re gonna drop me,” you explained, holding yourself tightly to his chest. Your face was nestled in the crook of his neck and a long forgotten scent hit your nose. Carnations and cedarwood mixed together and created a scent that had you taking a discreet sniff of his shirt. Sabo took a few steps back onto the dock and pulled you away from his body to look at your face.

“Yes you can, what are you talking about? I don’t remember much but I remember you beating me in a swimming race,” Sabo said, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. You shook your head, which made Sabo drop his hand.

“I beat you in every swimming race, you were super slow. But I can’t swim, not anymore. I ate a devil fruit a few years ago,” you said glumly. 

“Oh! How wonderful! What does it do?” Sabo asked, his excitement growing. 

“Nothing good or helpful. It’s a stupid one. I regret eating it,” you said, looking off to the side. You’d found it in the small forest on the estate during one of your daily walks. You had been so excited, thinking it would maybe help you escape from your husband and get out of the terrible life you lived, but it hadn’t done much of anything. You hadn’t even told anyone until now, afraid of what other nobles would say to your husband if anyone found out. Rare devil fruits were excellent to have, but one like yours would bring shame to your husband.

“Come on, then. You can tell me,” Sabo prodded, his hand rubbing up and down the outside of your thigh. You should have told him to stop but it felt too good at the moment. No one had touched you kindly in years; you were completely touch starved. As it was, you wanted to purr like a spoiled cat as he patted you. Why had you wanted him to set you down again?

“You’re gonna laugh,” you pouted as Sabo took a few steps towards the gangplank once more. Your eyes flicked down to the waves lapping at the dock. Being so close to water made you nervous, even if the chance of drowning was so slim.

“Never,” he said, one foot on the plank. You gave him a small frown and narrowed your eyes. Sabo smiled back at you, filling your mind with visions of him as a child doing the same. Your frown broke as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“It was a zoan fruit. I turn into a… well, a giant uh, snail –”

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA–”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T LAUGH!” you yelled, punching his shoulder lightly with your fist.

“It’s so funny though! A giant snail! You could have had any power in the world and you got stuck with being a gastropod!” Sabo said, still laughing. Truthfully, you didn’t mind if Sabo was laughing with you. It felt freeing to finally be able to tell someone about your devil fruit, even if it was completely useless. It was one less secret you had to keep close to your heart.

“I gotta tell Koala, that’s too good,” Sabo said with a happy sigh, starting back up the gangplank. Your arms gripped him tightly, your fingers digging into his skin. In turn, Sabo held you tighter, holding you higher so your ear was by his mouth.

“ ‘M not gonna drop ya. You’re safe right here in my arms. Nothing bad is going to happen to you,” Sabo said softly to you, breaking the joviality of before. You shivered as his sweet words skittered down your spine, his breath tickling your skin. You scrunched your eyes shut as he ascended to the ship, afraid to look down at the water. It was foolish, but you hadn’t really been down to the waterfront since you’d eaten your fruit. 

“We’re on the ship. See? Nothing happened, like I promised you,” Sabo said, his hands loosening their grip on your legs. You cracked open an eye and saw that Sabo had brought you to the main deck of the RA flagship.

“Oi! Who’s that? I thought we weren’t taking anyone,” a female voice said from across the deck as Sabo set you on your feet once more. 

“Koala, come here! There’s someone I want you to meet!” Sabo said excitedly, waving to a short, brunette woman with a puffy hat. She walked over quickly, her eyes narrowed.

“You didn’t kidnap her, did you?” she asked, crossing her arms.

“Yes,” you replied.

“No,” Sabo said simultaneously. Sabo slung his arm around your shoulders and pulled you a step closer to his side. You looked up at his face – Sabo was taller than you realized. You had towered over him for a few years as kids, but things had clearly changed.

“Koala, this is my wife, Grace,” Sabo said, gesturing to you.

“What do you mean wife –”

“My name isn’t Grace!” you erupted, pushing his arm off your shoulders to face him. “That’s a nickname you gave me because I fell off the log bridge into the river one time!” you said, poking his chest with your index finger.

“Again, what do you mean wife? What log bridge and river? Sabo, you’re married?” Koala reiterated, scratching her forehead.

“No, we’re not married,” you huffed as Sabo replaced his arm over your shoulders. This had to be the same Sabo you remembered – no one ever pushed your buttons like Sabo was able to.

“We are,” Sabo rebutted, now playing with the ends of your hair. You swatted his hand away but he remained undeterred, his fingers instead shifting to slowly drawing circles on your upper arm.

“It’s nice to meet you, uh, Grace. I’m Koala, one of Sabo’s childhood friends and an officer in the Revolutionary Army,” the brunette explained, offering her hand. You shook it and gave her a smile back. You weren’t going to be rude just because Sabo was annoying you. You were about to answer her when Sabo interrupted you.

“Oh, Grace was also one of my childhood friends. From before the accident. That’s when we got married,” Sabo explained, as if that was a totally logical statement. You gave him a dirty look and pursed your lips in annoyance.

“You remember your childhood? That’s incredible, Sabo! What can you remember –” Koala was speaking but you interrupted her just as Sabo had you. Of course Sabo remembered his childhood. He probably remembered just as much as you did – he’d been there along with Ace and Luffy. You’d ask him about them soon, you were so curious about what happened to them. There hadn’t been any news from the outside world at your home for so long, but surely Ace and Luffy had made their ways as pirates. But first you needed to nip this marriage thing in the bud before Sabo got any other grand ideas about your place in his life.

“Sabo, in case you don’t remember, I’m legally married to someone else. You know, the person you’re currently robbing and ransacking? We kissed once as kids, that doesn’t make us truly married,” you said, giving him a stink eye. Sabo stared back at you, unwavering in his intensity.

“Yes it does. The government is bullshit so what they say doesn’t matter. You’re my wife, Grace. And that’s all there is to it.”

Sabo’s POV

Sabo couldn’t believe it. 

He remembered you.

He remembered only you.

Sabo remembered spending time with you in the forests of Goa, hunting and fighting and  swimming and playing. It was like you had burst into his memories, bringing color where there had only been darkness. There were other shadowy figures on the periphery but he couldn’t place anything about them yet. You said something about others in his past, and he would take the time to dig into that later. For now there was no reason to divulge that his entire childhood was a void in his mind, everything between his parents and Dragon finding him a complete blank.

Except for you.

Sabo didn’t know how it was possible that he had recovered some of his memories of his childhood after so many years without. He also didn’t know how only his solo memories of you had returned, but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Clearly, seeing you was the key to it all and he wasn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again. Once he saw you brandishing a metal pipe at him in your stuffy manor, it triggered a flood of memories all at once. He’d nearly dropped to the ground with the overwhelming amount of information that came flooding back but held himself together. Sabo would fall apart later when there wasn’t anything at stake, but for now he’d pretend like nothing was amiss.

“Yes it does. The government is bullshit so what they say doesn’t matter. You’re my wife, Grace. And that’s all there is to it,” Sabo said while looking at you intently. He was framing it somewhat lightheartedly, but he wasn’t joking. Sabo now considered you his wife, as much as if you had been married the previous day in court. Yes, he knew you were legally married to another, but that asshole forfeited his rights to you the moment that Sabo laid eyes on you again. He’d figure out what to do about your soon to be ex-husband in the future. 

He’d known you were still the same person from the moment you saved your servants. Sabo had destroyed many mansions and estates of World Nobles, and none of them had ever given a single thought to their slaves or servants. Not only that, but he’d purposely destroyed that tacky, expensive vase to gauge your reaction. You didn’t even bat an eye, instead keeping your gaze trained on him. They could give you the appearance of a noble lady – and what an appearance that was – but underneath you were the girl he remembered, the one that he truly loved.

And he did love you, Sabo realized as he watched you scowl at him. As a child, Sabo had been completely enamoured with you. It had been the only secret he’d kept close to his heart, afraid that someone (who?) would make fun of him for liking a girl. But Sabo had loved you with all of his boyhood heart. You were strong and courageous and smart and funny and brave, all qualities that he himself wished to have. And that little girl had grown up to be an especially lovely woman, Sabo thought as he looked you up and down. 

“I have a question for you,” Sabo said, dragging his gloved finger across the exposed flesh of your back and shoulders. He didn’t like anything about the noble class, but he would thank whoever it was that made this dress for you. It was rather modest, with a mid calf skirt and a sweetheart neckline, but that only made Sabo’s imagination spark.

“What now? Are you gonna make fun of my fruit again?” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh yeah! Koala, listen to this. Grace–” 

“NOT MY NAME –”

“ – Ate a zoan devil fruit and she turns into a giant snail!” Sabo said, finishing with a bright smile. Koala smiled, though she had the decency not to laugh.

“Oh! Like a giant den den?” Koala asked, tipping her head to the side.

“What’s that?” you asked, scrunching your nose. Sabo blinked – surely everyone knew about den den mushi by now. Though, thinking back, he hadn’t seen any methods of communication at the estate. Maybe your ex-husband took them with him when he traveled. You certainly wouldn’t be the first stranded noble wife he had encountered. 

“You know, those telepathic snails we use for communication?” Sabo offered. Your face cleared of all expression, like you were playing a role of a noble wife. Sabo’s hackles rose – this blankness was something new in you. You were always so expressive when they were kids, what had happened to make you be able to act like this?

“Of course, silly me. I misheard you,” you lied easily. If Sabo hadn’t been a trained spy, he might have missed your tells. You must have become accustomed to lying during the time you and he had been apart, and Sabo wanted to know why. Oh well, one more mystery he’d uncover later when the two of you were alone.

“Hmm…once you show me your Zoan form, we can see if that’s the case,” Sabo offered. Your mouth twisted a little.

“Maybe. I don’t really like being in my Zoan form,” you hedged, crossing your arms and tugging at your earlobe.

“Oh? Why not?” Sabo asked, genuinely curious. “from what I’ve heard, Zoans love being in their counterpart form – or even a hybrid state. Is it because you’re so slimy? Or because you leave a snail trail?” Sabo asked, trying to rile you up. He didn’t know why he said it, it felt like he couldn’t stop himself around you. Your face heated up with his words but you gave no indication that you understood the double entendre. 

“NO. It’s not that. I don’t like it because it’s too loud,” you said, tossing your head. Sabo looked at Koala – she was on to something. She nodded in silent understanding that he wanted her to continue asking you questions. After so many missions together, they understood one another exceedingly well even without verbal communication. 

“What do you mean loud? Like you can hear too much? Or from greater distances?” Koala prompted, taking a few steps closer to you.

“Not exactly. It’s like if you had thousands of people in a room and everyone was talking all at once. Kinda like that. It’s overwhelming,” you said, taking a step backwards and bumping into Sabo’s chest. Were you…retreating? From Koala? Sabo didn’t mind that you were close to him, but he was rather surprised. He couldn’t remember you backing off….well, ever. Not that he remembered much, but it was more than before.

“Alright, makes sense. I’m gonna go below deck, got some things to do before we sail,” Koala said with a wave. She gave a curt nod to Sabo which he returned. If you really were a giant den den, the RA would be able to use your talents for an incredible advantage. You’d have to train of course, and Sabo could aid you with the help of his own devil fruit…but that was for later. Right now Sabo didn’t care about any of that, he needed to find out about his past.

“Nice to meet you,” you said, giving a curtsy. Sabo sniffed out his nose, yet another trapping of the upper class that had been drilled into you. Sabo danced his fingers along your arm, ending by wrapping them loosely around your neck. You shivered as he leaned down to speak softly into your ear, his fingers splaying over your carotid. Your heart beat fast as Sabo blew hot air on the exposed skin of your neck. 

“ Now that we’re alone, I do have one more question for you,” Sabo asked, watching goosebumps rise on your skin.

“Y-yeah?” you stuttered out. 

“You didn’t like wearing underwear when we were kids. Is that still the case?” he whispered. It was true, Sabo rationalized. You really hadn’t liked wearing them, something he had noticed one day. He hadn’t shared that information with anyone (WHO?) but did start letting you climb to the tree house first on days when you wore a skirt. Your eyes opened wide as you slowly turned to face him. Sabo grinned, he was going to be kissing you by the end of the night.

Instead, your arm reared back and you punched him in the nose.

Notes:

____________________________________________________________

“Come with us,” Thatch said to you in a low voice as he momentarily stopped rubbing your back. You didn’t respond. He was just saying that - the offer wasn’t real. No one was coming to save you, you’re still on your own as always.

“Hey,” he reached forward and held your chin in between his thumb and index finger. He pivoted your head up so you were looking at him. Your eyes were red and puffy, cheeks covered in drying tears. “There you are,” he said smiling at you, “listen, come with us, Y/N. We can bring you back to the Moby Dick, you’ll be safe with us. We can protect you and you can figure out your next steps from there.”

You sniffled and searched his face with your eyes. Maybe…he was being sincere? But you were already shooting down the idea in your head.

“Everyone knows Whitebeard doesn’t have women on his ship. And besides, I can’t fight. At all. So I would just be a liability.” You tried to pull your face back from his hand.

Thatch frowned at you but held on firmly. “It’s true there aren’t many women on the Moby, but there are some. You wouldn’t be the only one. And it’s ok if you can’t fight. There are plenty of us who can protect you. I mean, we wouldn’t be a good Yonko crew if we couldn’t defend one little lady, right?”

You kept looking into his face and started to think about the possibilities of going with the Whitebeard Pirates. It was appealing to think of having people who were willing to help, but it was tempered by thoughts of being on a ship again, being around so many unknown people, and having to start from scratch. Again.

 You never wanted to set sail ever again, but it seemed fate had forced your hand. Besides, what other course of action could you take? You couldn’t stay on the island - the same island where you landed after the wreck. People knew you here and it wouldn’t be long before bounty hunters showed up looking for you. You didn’t have enough money to secure a safe voyage to another island, you didn’t have anyone waiting for you anywhere else…you really didn’t have many options.

Maybe Thatch could see indecision flickering through your features because he let go of your chin, cupped your cheek and said “Let’s go tell the others. I can’t wait to introduce you to Oyaji.” You were surprised at his quick turn about - you hadn’t actually agreed to anything yet. Just because it was your best option didn’t mean it was the only option. 

“Um, wait. I just want -” But you didn’t have time to voice any objections before he took your hands in his and hauled you to your feet. You squeaked a little when he put his hand on the small of your back, using it to guide you back down the alley to the bar. 

Standing in the doorway of the bar, hushed voices stopped talking and looked at you and Thatch. Obviously you had been the topic of conversation, the thought of which made you feel embarrassed. Thatch gently pushed you towards the group, following immediately behind you. He kept his hand on your back even after you stopped walking. For some reason, the thought popped into your head that you wouldn’t be able to run away with him right behind you blocking your path. But you quickly dismissed it - they were going to help you, not hurt you. You didn’t need to run anywhere.

“I think I have to leave the island,” you said, addressing the Brothers.

Unsurprisingly, they just grunted. In unison. One of the quirks you would miss about them. Oldest, who had already started drinking, set his mug on the bar top. As the designated talker, he expressed what they had all been talking about. 

“Go with the pirates, girl. They’ll help ya.” Thatch had already come to the same conclusion, but it felt different hearing it from Oldest. Things were moving too quickly - you didn’t know how to slow everything down so you could process. You just wanted everything to stop for five minutes so you could gather yourself. You felt like you were in a frenzy and that  decisions were being taken out of your control. But even so you weren’t sure if you’d get another opportunity like this one - and you couldn’t end up back on that Marine ship. 

“Go git yer stuff, they’re leaving soon,” Oldest said, jerking his thumb towards the apartment. Even though you thought you were all cried out, fresh tears sprang to your eyes. You had grown attached to the Brothers - the first people in a long time to show you kindness. They had fed, clothed, and housed you at your absolute lowest. They never asked you any questions or made you feel uncomfortable. They treated you like you were a normal person, not someone to be used and discarded. They really were like older brothers who were looking out for you.

“O-ok” you stuttered slightly. You turned around and started walking to the entrance to the upstairs apartment. You heard Ace say “wait, hold up,” and come up behind you. You didn’t seem him reach out to touch the back of your arm lightly to get your attention. It made you flinch and yank your arm forward. “I’ll help you get your things, keep you company” he said, beaming a radiant smile at you. 

Ace’s POV

See, this is one of the reasons why he liked his siblings so much. They were all on the same wavelength. He didn’t need to tell them in words that you belonged with them on the ship. Thatch had obviously drawn you into the same conclusion and gotten you to agree. Now that you were getting used to the idea of joining them, all they had to do was get you off the island before you could second guess yourself. Then they could take as long as they needed to help you acclimate - after all, you wouldn’t be going anywhere. They could keep you - safe, protected, and far away from whatever had hurt you.

He needed to keep you close. He had been drawn to you since your very first interaction that morning - like a moth to a flame. You were absolutely gorgeous, but that’s not what he found irresistible about you. It was that you cared. You cared that he had slept in that garbage, you cared that he had a headache, you cared enough to let him into your apartment.

Which, by the way, was a total disappointment. He had spent some minutes looking for your panties and only came up with a single clean pair. He couldn’t take those since if you only had two, you’d surely miss the second pair. He’d used your shower, pleasuring himself to the thought of you naked in the same space. He thought that your shampoo would carry that incredible scent that he smelled on you - but everything you had was unscented. That vibrant, delicious smell was just you.

He knew he was getting attached quickly, but he didn’t care. He had spent a childhood of loneliness, yearning for someone to take care of him. Most people hated his guts for reasons beyond his control. But you - you cared about Ace because of your good nature and kind disposition. Marco had told him how you had tried to protect him - not sharing if he was present when they were looking for him.. You could love someone like him, which made you all the rarer.

He watched you gather your meager belongings into a small sack. You took out another long sleeved shirt, another pair of pants, and a scarf. You then started taking different tools out of a desk drawer and carefully wrapping them into the clothes. He wasn’t sure exactly what they were for, they looked like craft tools of some kind.

“Hey, what are those?”

“Hmm?” you said, picking up your head. You were immersed in your thoughts and he wanted to direct your attention back to the present. He loved talking with you and wanted to hear more of your voice. “Oh, these are circular cutters. Over here is a seam ripper, and my fabric scissors.”

“We have scissors on the Moby, you know. And besides, can’t you just y’know… fix everything?” he said, waving his hands in a magical-esque type of movement.

Despite everything that had happened, he was able to make you laugh, something he took pride in. “I mean, yeah, I can fix things,” you replied light heartedly.  “But these are my tools for making things. Before everything happened, I was a clothes maker. I can fix anything with my power but it doesn’t work on things that haven’t been created or made yet, if that makes sense. I’ve been spending the money I earn on buying tools like these. I was hoping to get back to making clothes.”

He sat back on his heels, thinking more about what you said. Everything about you was so valuable and useful. Every time you told him another personal detail he felt himself more invested in protecting you. And, he really hadn’t been kidding about the pipes. Another benefit to having you on the Moby would be that he never had to go into another crawlspace to repair a leaky pipe. You could bring so much to any crew, he was glad you were coming to his. Oyaji would love you too, he was sure of it.

“No - well, yes. That’s a little too – he’s like my father. It would be weird for me – but, then again it might be hot – er, wait, no. Not that. Sunny, did you mean it when you said that you love me?” Sabo asked, his voice scarcely more than a whisper. You picked your head off his chest and gave him a frown.

“Of course I meant it,” you replied. “Why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”

“You were pretty out of it. You couldn’t tell what was real and what was a hallucination. And I know that you said it again after you knew I was real but…” Sabo began to explain before you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“That wouldn’t change how I feel. I said it to Dream Sabo all the time. I meant it just as much as I do now,” you scoffed and laid your head back down on his chest.

“Say it again,” Sabo prompted softly, his flesh hand winding into the hair on your nape. It wasn’t a command, his words more like a plea. You cracked open your eyes again and looked up at him through your lashes.

“I love you, Sabo,” you said dreamily, splaying your hand across his chiseled chest. Sabo shifted you in his arms, tugging you up higher so your face was next to his own.

“I love you too, Sunny. I never thought I’d get to hear you say it,” he replied with a small smile, leaning in to kiss you again. Your arms wound around him loosely before kissing his back, your fingers loosely gripping his skin. It was less sexy that they were all still bandaged, but you would take what you could get.

“I love you, Real Sabo. And I’ll say it as many times as I have to,” you replied dreamily, setting your head back down. 

“Stop calling me Real Sabo. I’m the only Sabo there is,” Sabo said a bit petulantly. You laughed a bit before closing your eyes again. All that was left was to fall asleep, enjoy each other once more when you woke up, before you went off to your lab to work. Now that Sabo was back you would be able to handle things a lot more easily. Sabo would help you and everything would be better, like it was before.

“But, Sunny, I want to talk to you about something else. You can’t work yourself to death anymore. Not even if something were to happen to me,” Sabo said, his nails dragging up and down your bare back. You groaned, you didn’t want to have this discussion right now. You rolled off Sabo and on to your back, rubbing your forehead with the heel of your palm.

“Sabo, I love you –”

“I love you too –” Sabo replied easily, turning on his side to face you. Despite having heard it before, your face heated. How was it still so easy for Sabo to rile you up?  You shook your head a little, you needed to focus on what was important. Despite everything that had happened, your resolve to help fix what the World Government had done was unmovable. 

“Right, but what I’m saying is – I love you, but there’s things I have to get done. Things that are bigger than you or me, or anything else. The World Government, their weapon – this is a turning point in history, Sabo. Now that Vegapunk isn’t around, I need to fix things. For everyone. This is exactly like when I was in the Marines and I unknowingly contributed to the SMILE program –”

“This isn’t like that at all –”

“Yes it is,” you said, sitting up in exasperation. “How aren't you seeing that this is my responsibility? That I need to fix everything – that the Mother Flame can be used to power the weapons and that the only other people – I mean, Vegapunk is dead now so it might just be one person – well, on our side – actually, I’m not really too sure he’s dead. I know they killed his body, but he’s too smart for such a vulnerability. He would have – but in any event, I can’t stop  working, Sabo. I can’t.” Your mind was spinning as you tried to have Sabo understand the magnitude of what you had uncovered in your research. 

“Sunny, stop –” Sabo said, cupping your cheek with his hand. You pulled away – this wasn’t the time for him to coddle you. 

“No, Sabo. This is important,” you stressed, looking at his good eye with your own. Sabo tilted his head, as if considering your point for the first time. It almost reminded you of when you had first discovered what your research in the Marines was being used for, and how no one would tell you that the consequences were your fault. Ace had chased you down the beach, but even his heart to heart hadn’t really dislodged the feeling that you had contributed to mass suffering in the world.

“I understand. I really do. It’s the same fire that fuels all of us here. But you’re not on your own anymore. You have me and everyone else who is fighting alongside you,” Sabo said. You forced a smile, which based on Sabo’s growing frown was not all that successful at deceiving him.

“Sunny, it’s true –” You sighed and grimaced, your face now matching your true feelings. You put your hands up began to gesticulate as you articulated your thoughts. You’d always done it, but it had really gone into overdrive once Sabo had left and you dismissed everyone.

“I mean, that’s nice of you to say. But I really don’t think – everyone was trying, I know that. And I was angry – er, mostly lashing out..which isn’t their fault, I know that. But they can’t – they don’t understand how to get to the innate workings – it’s really, really complicated, Sabo. This is the hardest project I’ve ever worked on. I don’t even know if I’m gonna be able to figure it out –”

“You don’t have to figure it out. No one is making you, like when you were in the Marines. We can defeat the World Government without the Mother Flame or ancient weapons, there’s more than one answer to the problem,” Sabo said softly. You sucked in a breath, trying to unscramble your brain before you tried again. Sabo understood and was listening, but he wasn’t really hearing you. 

“And you’re not alone. Like I said, you have me, Koala, Dragon, Ahiru, Kurasu, Iva, Mark, and everyone else here. We don’t need to understand what you’re doing in order to support you. But, you won’t be able to help anyone if you don’t take care of yourself. Look at you,” Sabo said softly, pulling the blanket down a little. Your fingers twitched with the need to pull it back up. It wasn’t that you were self conscious about your body, not exactly. Sabo knew what you looked like generally, but you weren’t exactly at your best right now.

“You’ve lost so much weight, your fingers are a mess, you haven’t been sleeping, you haven’t been drinking water…”

“Yeah, I know. You already said all that, I get it,” you said with a pout. You hadn’t noticed those things when they’d been happening but now that Sabo kept bringing it up, it was weighing on you. He’d gone after you before for the same behaviors, was he going to do something about it now? You closed your eyes and sighed, wishing you had handled things differently. “Don’t punish me or anything. I don’t think I can take it,” you murmured from behind your closed eyelids.

“I’m going to have to. You knew the rules,” Sabo said, stroking your cheek with a finger. With that, your eyes popped open as you thought of Sabo’s previous punishments. Maybe this time wouldn’t be so bad…maybe some more manhandling or more kissing…those didn’t sound too awful. You didn’t think that Sabo would put you in seastone again, you were fairly sure that was off the table. You licked your lips and looked at his frowning face, wiggling yourself closer to him to try to get a favorable outcome. A wave of exhaustion hit you as you laid there, you hoped you could do your punishment after you took a short nap. You brought your hand up to rub at your left eye, it was always itchy when you were nervous.

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you were able to enforce them anymore,” you said as Sabo stopped you from rubbing your eye. Goddamn it, that was an annoyance you’d forgotten about. Dream Sabo never stopped you from rubbing, you thought with a scowl.

“I told you I’d come back. Have more faith in me,” Sabo said with a wide grin. You sighed, there was no getting out of this it seemed. 

“Is it gonna be a sex thing? Because I could handle a little bit of –”

“No. You’re going to apologize to everyone for what you did when I was gone.” Your mouth dropped open at Sabo’s words.

Fuck.

“Wh- no. No, Sabo, come on. They know I’m sorry,” you pouted as Sabo held your hand. Now that Sabo had made his declaration that you would be saying sorry to everyone, you knew you wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep. The idea of having to say that many apologies to that many people was making you want to gag from the sheer amount of interaction alone. Besides, some of the things you could remember doing were rather…embarassing.

“No. You have to actually say it. It’s important to maintain good working relations among the ranks. You’re a senior officer –”

“I’m not an officer. No one reports to me anymore,” you whined as Sabo ignored you. God, you forgot about how obstinate he could be when he wanted to be. Maybe Dream Sabo could return and defend you from Real Sabo’s antics.

“We’ll remedy that too. But for right now, you’re still a notable figure. And you need to take accountability for your mistakes. It’s a lesson all leaders need to learn,” he concluded with a bright smile. 

“I’m not a leader –”

“You are. And this is your punishment. I think it’s fitting,” Sabo said, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”

“Fine. I guess I can…apologize to everyone,” you grumbled, already thinking about the many, many unpleasant conversations you were about to have.

Sabo POV

“C’mon, It’s almost dinner time. We can go to the mess hall and start with whoever we see there,” Sabo urged gently, rubbing his hand up and down your back. You gave him a nervous look, your fingers balled into fists. Your shoulders were hiked to your ears as you nibbled on your lip, likely thinking about all the people who would need apologies.

It wasn’t completely a bad idea to start now either, Sabo thought. He wanted to get some food into you and dinner looked like it was going to be tasty. You had clearly deprived yourself of nutrients in his absence and you needed to eat. You had always eaten more when you were with Sabo, and he’d have to direct effort into ensuring that you regained the weight you had lost. Sabo had promised to take care of you and he took his responsibility seriously. He’d unintentionally caused you harm by nearly dying, and now he was going to work to remedy it. 

Sabo grinned at you as you nodded hesitantly, happy that he wouldn’t have to march you into the dining hall like a prisoner. He would if he had to, but it would look better if you did it of your own volition.

And it really was for the best that you apologized to everyone. He had meant what he said earlier – there were many people who you could depend on in the Revolutionary Army. Even with your escapades, it was clear that people respected you a great deal. And based on what Dragon had told him, you hadn’t truly harmed anyone. So a few apologies and everyone would feel better about you. People in the RA generally didn’t hold grudges, water under the bridge and all that.

You stopped in front of the doors to the dining room, rubbing your hands together to shore your resolve. A newer recruit was walking by, though she tried to sidestep and leave when she saw you and Sabo standing in front of the doors.

“No need to be shy. Come on over,” Sabo said with a bright smile, encouraging the nervous woman with a wave of his hand. Sabo had hired her himself before he left, she had an interesting devil fruit, though he couldn’t remember off the top of his head what it was. 

“H-hi,” the new recruit said, extending a few of her fingers upwards in an approximation of a greeting. You cocked your head and squinted, like you couldn’t place who she was.

“Hello. I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m –”

“We have. Dragon sent me to you once, to try to get you to sleep. You, uh, shrank my head,” the woman said, trying to back away. Ah, that’s what it was. She was the owner of the sleep sleep fruit. You flushed furiously, your eyes flicking to Sabo before looking back at the young woman. Sabo inserted himself between you, ready to start remediating the situation. 

“And Sunny is –” Sabo began the process, but you quickly picked up the rest of it for him. 

“I - I’m sorry. I apologize for shrinking you –”

“Not all of me. Just my head,” the woman clarified, looking behind her nervously.

“That’s worse – uh, I’m sorry. You appear to be regularly shaped now, so I must have, uh, reversed it?” you asked, biting your lip as you took a step forward. The woman took a step back, her hands up defensively.

“It’s alright! Yes, you did reverse the situation. I, uh, accept! I definitely accept! And…I think I hear Morley calling for me,” she said quickly, pretending to strain her hearing. There was clearly no one calling for her but the woman slid inside the dining hall, away from you. You hung your head, sighing and rubbing your forehead.

“Well, at least it can’t get worse than that,” Sabo said lightly.

It did get worse than that. It seemed like you had fought half the RA in some way or another during his time away from you. You had won every “fight” to keep working alone in your lab. But it hadn’t won you any popularity awards, Sabo had to force people to interact with you. Even worse, you didn’t even remember everything that you’d done. It was honestly impressive, if not a little funny at times. 

But the effort of so much interaction was clearly weighing on you by the fifteenth or so apology. Sabo had gotten the two of you food and was sitting next to you, watching you push your noodles around your plate. Sabo reached out to rub your shoulder, feeling the large knots on your back caused by stress.

“It’s alright. We can do more later,” Sabo said, putting his hand over your own. Your movements stilled as you leaned into him. 

“Yeah. You were right about the apologies. I was worse than I remembered,” you said, rubbing your forehead against his shoulder. 

“We can go back to the dorms, I think you should go to sleep –”

“I need to call Ace,” you said with a yawn.

“He can wait until tomorrow. He’s probably sailing right now anyway, he wouldn’t pick up his den den,” Sabo lied easily. He wasn’t actually sure what Ace was up to right now, but you needed to go back to sleep now that you’d eaten a little bit.

“Where’s he going?” you asked, dropping your hands into your lap.

“You can find out tomorrow,” Sabo said, removing himself from the table. He extended his hand to you, helping you up from where you were seated.

“No. Today. I’m on a roll and I wanna get this worked out. It’s bothering me. He called me a few times, I don’t want him to worry,” you said, stifling another yawn. Sabo hummed as he picked you up, carrying you out of the dining hall. 

“I c’n walk,” you huffed, though Sabo noted you didn’t protest more than that. Either you were more inured to him carrying you than he thought, or you were really that tired. Regardless, you settled against him as easily as the last time. Sabo could get used to this, and based on how boneless you felt in his arms, so could you. 

Which was why shortly thereafter, you were sitting up next to Sabo in bed as Sabo called Ace. He’d contacted his brother after his arrival on the island, but Ace hadn’t been particularly surprised to hear that Sabo was alive. 

Puru puru puru   puru puru puru   puru puru puru

“BABO!” Ace-snail yelled out merrily, waving its little hands. Sabo smiled, it was always fun to call Ace when he was in a good mood. “Have you seen Sunny? I tried calling her but –”

“I’m here, Ace,” you said sheepishly, poking your head out from behind Sabo.

“Sunnifer! My sunniest sunshiney Sunflower!” Ace whooped, before shoving some kind of meat skewer into his mouth.

“I’m sorry for not returning your calls, Ace. You were probably worried –” you began, already back in apology mode. Ace waved you off, not caring in the least. 

“I was worried about you, yeah. Not Sabo, if that’s what you’re asking,” Ace said, talking with his mouth full of half chewed food. “But I called Dragon once and he said you were alive –” Sabo frowned, that was not enough. Ace had promised to look after you if anything had happened to him, and one call to Dragon didn’t cut it.

“And I knew Sabo would come back, so I wasn’t too concerned. I figured if I called enough times, you’d eventually answer,” he said with a shrug. Now it was your turn to frown.

“Wait, Ace, how many times did you call?” Sabo asked, putting his arm around your shoulders.

“Sixty six, I think? Something like that. Once every day or two,” Ace replied, the snail now looking down at something beyond the sight of the call. You flushed a bit and licked your lips. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was that many times,” you began to say, bringing a hand up to your mouth. Sabo intercepted it, bringing your hand to his face to kiss your poor little destroyed fingers. Maybe he could see if Marco was with Ace, and they could swing by the RA to heal you a little…

“Yeah, but like I said, I didn’t mind. Sabo was gonna find you eventually and everything would work out,” Ace said, the snail’s hands pushing on something.

“You knew because of the vivre cards, right? You know how I feel about those –”

“No, not the vivre card. That helped too, but this time it was ASL ESP. I could have told you the whole time he was gone that Sabo was fine,” Ace said, his attention focusing back on you to give you a wide grin.

“What.”

“ASL ESP,” Ace repeated, this time more slowly. “ESP is when you can –”

“I know what ESP is. It’s not real,” you protested, sitting up higher in the bed. Sabo smiled to himself, Ace really was good at baiting you. It wasn’t Ace’s intention right now, but no one could bring you out of a funk faster than Ace telling you some garbage to make you rage.

“It is so. Then how else would I know Sabo was ok?” Ace asked, his smile turning into a smirk. 

“Somehow you’ve found something even less scientifically viable than vivre papers,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose in exasperation. Sabo couldn’t exactly explain it, but Ace did seem to have some preternatural way of knowing when his brothers were in trouble or needed help. Sabo didn’t need to bother you with that information, but there was something to Ace’s gut reactions.

“It works, though. That’s how I knew I had to get to Wano and I was right about that. Speaking of – ‘Bo, we gotta get to Elbaf. Lu is gonna need us both, I can feel it. I’m already getting Striker Plus One ready,” Ace said, turning serious for a moment. Sabo frowned, thinking for a moment. He had spoken with Robin a few weeks earlier, but he didn’t know the Strawhats had set sail for Elbaf.

“What’s Striker Plus One?” you asked, your head cocked to the side.

“I modified Striker and made it much bigger, with Deuce’s help. Now I can have Yamato, Izou, Deuce, and Marco on it at the same time. More people than that, but that’s who’s here now. It's actually a lot bigger, closer in size to the Spadille. It’s basically like having –”

“A crew again,” Sabo interrupted, giving his brother a soft smile. Ace scowled, pulling his hat down over his eyes in embarrassment. 

“Then why is it ‘Plus One’? Shouldn’t it be ‘Plus Five’? Or a whole different name?” you asked, tugging on your lip.

“Because Striker Plus Five sounds bad, duh,” Ace said with a roll of his eyes. 

“Captain gets to name the ship,” Sabo said in agreement, making Ace’s face flame once more.

“ ‘M not the Captain –”

“Yo, where do you want these extra ropes, Cap?” Deuce’s voice rang out.

“Under the hatch in the front of the ship,” Ace replied. “But that doesn’t mean anything! Deuce always called me that since we were in the Spade Pirates together!” Ace said with a finger raised.

“I think it’s great, Ace,” Sabo said, wishing he could hug his brother through the snail. “I’m glad you’re back with a crew. I think it’s good for you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just gonna pick up a few of the old guys before we head over to Elbaf. Lu prolly has about a month of sailing still, but I don’t wanna miss too much of the action. Something big is gonna go down, and I wanna be there for him when it does,” Ace declared, his attention back on Sabo. 

Sabo frowned – he wasn’t as good at ASL ESP as Ace, but he had felt the tuggings before as well. It was what had led him to Dressrosa to fight for the Mera Mera and to help Luffy with Fujitora. And a new feeling was unfurling in Sabo’s gut, just like Ace was saying. Ace was right, they had to meet Luffy in Elbaf. 

“Isn’t he much stronger than both of you? And doesn’t he have an Emperor’s crew? Do you really have to go?” you asked, picking at a loose string on your pants and worrying it between your fingers. Sabo covered your hand with his own, not wanting you to feel anxious about the upcoming event. 

“He’s insanely strong. And I think a literal god now?” Ace said, scratching his head. “But we’re his brothers, I’d do anything for him. And he helped me back in Marineford when I was ready to die. So I’m going to Elbaf. And Sabo should too,” Ace declared. Sabo looked over at your wan face and made a decision.

“Thanks, Ace. We’ll talk again soon,” Sabo said, already reaching to hang up.

“Don’t be a stranger, my Sunshine!” Ace said with a wave of his hand, the snail falling asleep seconds later as Sabo pushed on the button to end the call.

Your POV

Your heart sank as Ace had said he and Sabo had to go to Elbaf. By now you understood that the brothers had a profound bond and that nothing would come between them. You could be friends with Ace, and lovers with Sabo, but that would always pale in comparison to the relationship between them. 

And really, what were you expecting? For Sabo, the chief of staff of the Revolutionary Army, to stay with you on one island forever playing house? No, that wasn’t realistic. You had gotten your prayers answered by Sabo being alive, but there wasn’t a way to contain him for long. Sabo had his destiny to fulfill and you had work to do. Hopefully you got at least another day with Sabo before his departure, but you would understand if that wasn’t the case. 

You laid down in the bed, turning away from Sabo. It felt a little bratty, but that really wasn’t your intention. You weren’t trying to punish Sabo, you just needed a few minutes to yourself to recalibrate to the new situation. Sabo was going to leave again, you would continue working, and everything would be the same as before. It almost felt like when Ace left for Wano, but you had even less acclimation time than before. And you’d really try to keep yourself from falling in your old pitfalls like the last time. You didn’t want to become one more burden for Sabo to worry about while he was gone saving the world. 

“What are you thinking right now?” Sabo asked, laying down next to you and hauling your back against his chest. 

“How long do you think you have until you leave?” you asked, looking out the window. The moon was rising, giving you something pleasant to look at while your mind reeled.

“Hmm. I’ll contact Nami and see where they are. But based on what Ace was saying, I’ll probably want us to leave within a day or two,” Sabo answered, his fingers lightly stroking your thigh. You nodded, already making a list of everything you wanted to get done before Sabo left again. He’d said no to sex in Dragon’s office, but maybe you could drag him in there anyway…

“Sunny, did you hear me?” Sabo asked. You nodded again as a tear leaked out of the corner of your eye. 

“Yeah, you’re likely leaving tomorrow. I understand,” you said quietly, not wanting to make things harder than they had to be. You had heard this story a thousand times before when you were in the Marines – the painful separation of lovers, the yearning, the pining, the letters written and devoured in private. At the time you hadn’t really understood why people would want to make something like that work, but now it was you having the tearful goodbye.

“C’mere,” Sabo said, rolling you over to face him. You looked up at him with a watery smile, you didn’t want Sabo to feel guilty.

“It’s ok, I get it –”

“Sunny, I’m taking you with me. We’re going together,” Sabo asserted. Your brow furrowed with this news.

“But…but…you – Ace said that you need to go to Elbaf,” you protested.

“He did. And you’re coming with me.” Your breathing stopped as you blinked rapidly. 

“It’s not n-nice to tease me,” you said, rubbing away another tear. You sat up and rubbed your forehead. If he was joking right now, you would completely shatter. Sabo sat up and crossed his legs before pulling you into his lap.

“I’m not teasing. I don’t want to leave you again. And I think your powers will be useful in Elbaf. It’s the land of giants and you’re the expert in shrinking and magnifying–” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing – Sabo was going to bring you to Elbaf?

“But- I get seasick,” you said, your eyes looking into his own. It was the first question on the top of your mind and it burbled out before you could stop it. Sabo hummed as he thought.

“I know. It will be tough, especially now that you’re less healthy than I’d like. But we worked through it last time. I’ll bring more medication. And we’ll have to really keep on top of your hydration,” Sabo said, wrapping his arms around you. 

“And my work –”

“Take the lab. You can shrink it now, bring it with you. Maybe Robin or Franky will be able to help you –”

“B-but you said I’m not strong enough to come –” you replied, relaying a persistent fear you’d carried in your heart.

“Based on what I heard in the messhall, you’re a lot stronger than you used to be. And Ace and I will protect you. Luffy too. Not everyone needs to be a top fighter to be useful,” Sabo said, twirling your hair through his fingers.

“S-Sabo,” you said, more tears falling down your cheeks. This time they weren’t due to sadness, but overwhelming happiness.

“We’re going together. I need you –”

“Because I can’t take c-care of myself?” you asked, hiccuping through the tears that kept falling.

“No. Because I love you and can’t bear to be apart from you,” Sabo said, cupping your face. You laughed and sniffled before closing the distance and giving Sabo a long kiss. He pulled you closer, your legs now straddling his waist. You kissed Sabo with all the passion, love, and desire you could muster, chasing high after high with him. Sabo broke the kiss as you continued to kiss up and down his neck, taking his top hat off and tossing it on the floor across the room.

“And I hear their Owl Library has all of the knowledge salvaged from Ohara –”

“Why didn’t you start with that?!” you asked with a buoyant laugh. Sabo wiped the remaining tears from your face with his thumb before kissing you again.

“I’ll always be with you, Sunny. For as long as you’ll have me,” Sabo said reverently.

“Forever.”