#and it’s a future that doesn’t eventuate in the way he promised

[tropes-and-tales]

Lieutenant Steal-Your-Girl, Part II

(Bob Floyd x F!Reader; Jake Seresin x F!Reader)

CW:  Light angst (relationship woes); open relationships; smut (oral, F!receiving; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.

Word Count:  4180

AN:  This is part of a larger mini-series, found here, and it was requested by several anonymous folk!

AN2: This has not been edited in any way, shape, or form!

Jake has always prided himself on making the right move every time.  As a varsity athlete in high school, whether on the football field or basketball court, for example: he always saw the field of play, the players on it.  He could always calculate possible outcomes and always made the right choice.

Same for his military career.  He didn’t make it to Top Gun as a fluke.  He’s the best because he can sense the environment, can feel the strength and speed of the plane under his control.  He can crawl into the psyche of his fellow pilots and best them in simulations because he’s sharp and observant.

He always makes the right move.

Until he doesn’t.

Opening up his relationship with you felt like the right move months ago.  Jake loves you, truly.  He knows he can search for a thousand years and never find a woman as loyal as you.  He’ll never find someone so willing to put up with the chaos of his life in active service.  Even if he didn’t know it, the other guys would remind him of it:  that you’re a rare specimen, that he should have wifed you up years ago.

The thing is—you and Jake have been together for so long.  Since you were kids.  Since ideas like love and forever were abstract things.  Since your future together seemed both a small thing and a thing that would stretch out for an eternity.  It was one thing to date you as a teenager, to make lofty promises to you when the biggest decision Jake had to make was which party to attend after the Friday night football game.

It was an entirely different thing now.  To go from his small Texas hometown to the world and all its variety and promise.  To turn to the hard, often boring work of living together:  Jake getting his marching orders, you trailing behind faithfully.

Opening the relationship was for both of you.  It’s how Jake justified it to you, how if you both loosened the reins a bit, then when you eventually married, there’d be no lingering doubt.  There’d be no question of missing out. 

It worked for all those months.  Jake got to have his cake and eat it too.  He got to explore, got to experience different women…but always came home to you.  It was like a pressure valve, just him letting off steam, relieving the pressure that built up from a high-stress position as a pilot.

He encouraged you to do the same.  To explore.  To have fun.  There was a part of him that was turned on by the thought of you with another man, though if Jake were entirely honest with himself, the entire open relationship was mostly for him.

If you sat at the Hard Deck with a dour expression on your face, was that his fault?  If you refused to take advantage of the free pass he gave you, was that his problem?

Until you seemingly took advantage of that free pass. 

Until you don’t come home one night.  Until you breeze in late one morning with a soft smile of your face that Jake hasn’t seen for years.  Until you murmur a greeting at him, distracted, then slip into the bathroom for a long shower.

Jake always makes the right move, but as you seemingly wash away some other man under a steaming shower, he realizes that he’s made the absolute worst move.

-----

Who was it?

It’s the question that gnaws at his gut, that makes his jaw ripple with tension as he grinds his teeth together.

The most obvious answer is someone from your job.  Jake is away for long stretches, and you have a traditional 9-to-5 job in tech.  Your office is tilted heavily in favor of the men; there’s a lot of young guys in your orbit every workday.  Some asshole in khakis and a polo shirt, some asshole with a sensible Honda CRV with golf clubs stowed in the back.  Some asshole who perhaps goes out to lunch with you, the two of you sharing tacos in the San Diego sunshine, of sending flirty messages through Slack or whatever…

Another possibility?  A fellow flyboy, or at least a military asshole.  San Diego teems with young, fit men in uniforms, and many of them are looking for a loyal girl to lock down. 

Which puts Jake in mind of his fellow Daggers.  You accompany him to the Hard Deck nearly every night he goes.  You usually sit outside, listening to the surf…but you spend enough time with the rest of his squad.

Is it Coyote, with his killer smile and dimples?

It is Payback with his laid-back charm and easy way of talking?

Could it be Javi and the way he leans in, like he’s unable to resist a woman when he’s chatting her up?

Maybe it’s Bob.  Jake had made a joke of it often enough, just for the benefit of tweaking the little nerd and making him go atomic red.  Jake loved winding the back-seater up, and every time he asked Bob if he wanted to fuck you, he turned into a stuttering, blushing mess before freaking out and declining.

Rooster and his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirts and ability to draw all eyes on him when he plays the piano?  You took piano lessons in high school, and more than once, you’ve perched beside Rooster and added little musical flourishes as he pounded out another Jerry Lee Lewis standard.  Jake searches his memory.  Didn’t you give Rooster a shy little smile after each performance?  Didn’t Rooster throw an arm around your shoulders and pull you against his side after a duet that ended in raucous applause?

And didn’t Rooster pull Jake aside just weeks ago to give him a stern talking-to about how miserable you seem?

Jake sits in the canteen and picks at his lunch, and he lets his glare settle on the man sitting two tables over.  Was Maverick’s pet pilot the man who put that dreamy little smile on your face two days earlier?

*****

Bob hasn’t been able to focus all day.  Thank god it’s just been classroom work about the physics of flying and not actual flying.

He picks at his lunch and lets the talk in the canteen fade into the background.  He can’t stop thinking about you.  About his date with you.  About the night he spent with you, and then the morning.  About driving you home—the home you share with Jake—and how you turned to him, shy, and brushed a kiss against his blushing cheek before you slid out of his truck and ran inside.

How can he be so happy and so miserable at the same time?  To have had that amazing moment with you, and to realize that you can’t be his.  Bob glances over at the man himself and sees Jake glaring at Rooster—that old, tired rivalry—and Bob feels jealousy lance through him sharper than a knife.

His mind rapid fires through the date like a slideshow, the images cycling in his mind’s eye as he lifts his fork, chews his food without tasting it.  He replays every moment.  He replays every word you spoke, parsing through them for some hidden clue.

Bob finds it when he’s eating a buttered roll.  He remembers what it felt like to make love to you, and he remembers that he wore no condom, and he remembers your words.

I’m clean, Bobby.  I had a test just last month and was clean, so if you don’t want to wear a condom...

He freezes with the piece of bread lifted halfway to his mouth.  His mouth gapes open, and he seizes up and doesn’t move as he considers the implications.  What you said, and what you really said.

You are in a relationship with Jake, and Jake sees women outside of your relationship.  You had an STD test a month ago and felt comfortable enough to tell Bob you were clean.

Ergo, you and Jake have not been intimate in at least a month, which means that perhaps your relationship to the cocky Bagman is not as solid as Jake sells it to the Daggers.

-----

How can Bob be so miserable and so happy at the same time?

It helps when the happiness tips the scales, because that date wasn’t a one-time thing at all.  That evening, after Bob had his realization in the canteen, he gets a text from you.

Thank you again for planning such a lovely date. I had the best time, you write.

The smile breaks across his face like the sunrise, and he’s grinning so hard that he doesn’t have a chance to respond before you send a second text.

If you ever would want to hang out again, I’d love that.

That makes him scoff.  The soft wording of it, if he ever would want to.  As if you haven’t been occupying his thoughts for every waking moment since that date.  As if he hasn’t been praying and hoping for just this invitation from you, this toehold for more.

I absolutely would love to hang out with you again, he replies.

You:  When?

Bob:  Anytime. Sooner the better.

You:  Give me a date and time.

Bob:  Right now?

It’s a joke, but not really.  It’s a joke, but he wants you with him now, wants to soothe the jittery anxiety that comes from having you for a night and then not having you.  It’s a joke, but not really, because you respond with three words that make his pulse race and his mouth go dry.

On my way.

It’s a joke, but not really, because half an hour later there’s a knock at his door, and when he opens it, you’re standing there and neither of you say a word because he opens the door wider, and you step through it.  You step into his arms, and he enfolds you against him, and then your mouth is on his, his glasses are knocked askew, and he’s half-dragging you as you half-push him back into his bedroom. 

There’s no hesitancy this time around; Bob senses no reserve or shyness.  He only feels your hunger that matches his own, a ravenous urge that makes this moment sloppy and rushed.  Neither of you finesse it—he only pushes the skirt of your dress up and tugs your panties down enough.  You only undo his belt, his button and zipper, push his pants and boxers low enough for his cock to spring free.

You both only do enough to clear the obstacles to your mutual goal, and when Bob slots the head of his cock against your entrance, it’s both of you moving as one:  him pushing into you, you pulling him into you.  The moan you loose at the sensation is echoed by Bob, and it’s only afterwards—sweaty, panting, sated—that you finally actually exchange words.

“I’m glad you reached out,” Bob says.  He runs his fingertips up and down your arm, and you nestle closer to him.

Something has changed in you since that first night together.  You’re less uncertain.  Braver.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you admit simply.

That pulse-racing, dry-mouth feeling returns.  “Yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

Bob swallows hard.  There are a million questions on the tip of his tongue.  Where is this going?  Where is Jake?  What happens next?

Instead, he wraps his arm firmer around you.  “Tell you something,” he says.

“What’s that?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”

*****

A month passes.  You and Jake even out.  Your relationship finds the sort of easy equilibrium that he always wanted with the open thing—or at least, you don’t seem so morose when he has dates with other women.  He doesn’t hear you sniffling in bed when he comes home late. 

You, though?  Jake can’t quite figure out what’s going on with you, and since one of the rules of this thing is a strict “don’t ask, don’t tell,” he can’t know for certain. 

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t try.

It’s a rare evening when you both stay in.  You make dinner, and the two of you sit and eat.  You chat about your respective days, and when the conversation peters out, Jake clears his throat.

“Have you been…taking advantage of the free pass?”

Your eyes slide up to meet his gaze.  “We said we wouldn’t talk about it.”

“We said we’d never discuss specifics.  This was just a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.”

You arch an eyebrow.  You say nothing.

Jake stares at you, tries to read your expression.  He weighs the entirety of your relationship.  Everything he knows about you, which is a lot.  His loyal girl, his ride-or-die.  He weighs all of it against this new you who is more at ease with your arrangement, and he concludes that no, you must not be sleeping with anyone else.  You probably just came to accept it from him.  You probably just see the wisdom in letting him let off steam and explore before he comes back to you and settles down.  Your refusal to answer him must just be a way to needle him.

It's the wrong conclusion, but he won’t realize that for a while longer.

-----

Another month passes.  The ease continues. 

Jake relaxes.  That single night months ago must have been an aberration.  Another way of needling him.  He assumes you spent the night at a girlfriend’s place and just chose to act mysterious about it to make him jealous. 

His life finds a blissful rhythm.  He has his home with you, and he’s not so blind that he can’t admit how nice you’ve made his life here in San Diego.  You give him a warm, cozy place to land after stressful days on base.  You give him simplicity, and when he looks across the kitchen table or the couch and sees you there, it makes him feel like he’s been wrapped in a weighted blanket.

Jake’s momma always said he should put a ring on your finger before you left Texas.  “Girl like that is hard to find and harder to keep, Jakey,” she used to say. 

But Jake’s dad always said he should wait before tying himself to any one woman.  “Take it from me, Jake,” he used to say.  “Don’t get your high school girlfriend knocked up and marry her at nineteen.  Live a little before you commit to the ball-and-chain.”

Jake can see his father’s wisdom now (even though he was the cause of that shotgun wedding at nineteen).  This open thing is clarifying what Jake wants for his future.  He’s getting all that latent, restless energy out of his system.  Each stranger he goes home with, each woman he fucks just brings him that much closer to a future where he puts that ring on your finger and promises to only be with you for the rest of his life.

*****

It’s more than just hooking up.

Bob can’t deny it from his side of things, and he has a feeling that you see it the same as him.  The two of you meet up, make love—sometimes frantic, sometimes slow and drawn out—but you also spend time together.

Two blissful months pass from that first date.  You and Bob find time in your schedules where there’s overlapping availability.  For you, that tends to be when Jake is off on a date or at the Hard Deck conquering another conquest.  You and Bob meet up there too, play it cool, pretend to just be the usual friendly acquaintances that you’ve always been…. then once Jake is out the door, the two of you slip out a moment later when it’s clear.

It's all-consuming.  Bob has never been in a situation with a woman like this before.  He feels mad, feverish, hectic when you aren’t around.

He feels mad, feverish, hectic when you are.

He dreams of you, wakes up hard and aching, wakes up feeling like he’s taken a cannonball to the chest.  He holds imaginary conversations with you in his head; he’s driven to near-distraction, and only Nat keeps him in line during his workday. 

Even so, more than once, Maverick has caught him daydreaming, and Bob’s paid for it with countless pushups on the tarmac.

But when you’re with him, he can’t get enough.  He’s become pushier than he’s ever been with a woman before.  Countless times, he fails to get you home before he takes you:  he’s fucked you against the lifeguard stand yards away from the Hard Deck, the ceaseless waves covering up the sound of you moaning his name.  He’s bent you over the sink of the bar bathroom, met your unflinching stare in the water-spotted mirror as he found a fast and hard rhythm that spoke more to the lack of time you had before the other Daggers missed the two of you.  He’s pulled you into his lap in his truck, pushed your panties to the side, pulled you down onto him.  He’s knelt at your feet and feasted on your perfect pussy so many times that he wonders how the other pilots—how Jake—doesn’t smell you on him. 

You’re ravenous for each other, but there’s also sweet moments.  Little mundane moments where your appetites are sated, and you can just be with each other.

The way you run your fingers through his short-cropped hair.  The way you rub the pad of your thumb over the little indents on the sides of his nose from his glasses.  The way you stretch out like a cat, pleased and lazy after sex, and ask him all about his life.  What he was like as a kid, what his family is like.

Sometimes, you ask him where he sees himself in a year, in five years, in a decade.

He never answers those forward-looking questions.  He turns them around on you, echoes the questions back to you.

You never answer them either. 

It’s like both of you are in a stalemate.  Neither of you ever mention Jake by name, and you only occasionally mention him obliquely as him.  The two of you operate in a bubble suspended in time, where your past with Jake doesn’t quite exist and where your respective futures are hazy and unclear.

When Bob lies in bed late at night, alone, he knows how he’d answer you if you really pressed him.

Where does he see himself in a year?  With you.

Where does he see himself in five years?  With you.

Where does he see himself for the rest of his life?  With you.  Always with you.

*****

The Hard Deck is packed.  Javi and Nat play pool, and you, Rooster, and Bob watch them as you chat amiably.

Jake feels relaxed.  He feels good. 

He called his parents over the weekend, and he had a good talk with them.  An honest talk, or as honest as one can have with their parents.  He described work and how well it was going at Top Gun, how things with you have evened and smoothed out.

He hesitates only a beat before he tells them:  he wants to bring you back to Texas for the holidays.  He has leave, and you can take the time off too.  A big Seresin family Christmas.  It has been far too long.

“I thought I might go see her dad,” he mentions too.  “Gotta ask him a question.”

At that, his mother squealed over the line, and his father took a moment to clear his throat, then gruffly added that he thought Jake had turned into a fine man, and that he was proud of him.

Jake feels good.  It feels right.  He glances over at where you stand with Rooster and Bob, the three of you laughing as Javi tries and fails a trick shot.  You look relaxed, almost happy, and Jake smiles to see it.  Hasn’t this been the ultimate proof that the two of you were meant to be after all?  You survived the open relationship, gave him the grace to sow his wild oats, and now—

“You’re hella cool about it, Jake.”  The voice interrupts Jake’s thoughts, and when he turns, he sees Fanboy standing beside him. 

“Cool about what?”

“Your girl.”

An icy finger of dread drags itself down his spine, but Jake hides it behind an easy smile.  “What about my girl?”

Fanboy shrugs and leans against the bar.  “I know you had this open thing.  I just never saw it play out in a way that wasn’t messy.”

Jake’s smile widens.  “She came around in the end.  It was just hooking up.  She always knew she had my heart.”

“Nah.”  Fanboy elbows him lightly in his side.  “I mean, you seem really cool with your girl hooking up with the pussy-eating champion of Miramar.”

That icy feeling of dread sinks into his stomach and settles there.  “What?”

“I’d be so jealous, man.”

“Wait, what?”

Fanboy nods in your direction where you stand with Rooster and Bob.  “You haven’t heard the gossip about him?  Yale’s girlfriend’s roommate dated him way back.  Nothing but good things to say about him.  Said he ate the kitty like a starving kid at an all-you-can-eat buffet.”

Jake has always relied on his lightning-fast reflexes, his quick thinking, but Fanboy’s words move through him like tar.  His mind slows down and refuses to grasp the words, and he shakes his head, tries to clear it.

“What?” he breathes out.

“Cafeteria-style, man.  Boy’s well-fed is what I’m saying.”

Jake’s eyes find you, then slide over to Rooster.  The blond man is saying something that makes you smile—

“Bradley?”  Jake says his name and it comes out rough, a growl.  “You talking about Bradley?”

Fanboy elbows him again, unaware of the way Jake’s world is tilting off-axis, the ground slipping from beneath his feet.

“Nah.  I’m talking about Baby on Board.”  Fanboy turns and looks at Jake, takes in the angry flush along his neck, the way his jaw twitches as he clenches his jaw.  “I mean, her and Bob, y’know?  You knew, right?”

Jake doesn’t answer.  He only shifts his gaze a fraction and focuses on Bob.  Bob.  Of all people, Bob.  Jake narrows his eyes and looks at what he has failed to see for months, and he finally notices that you stand an inch closer to the WSO.  He finally notices that Bob’s turned his body a degree towards you, the faintest bit of angling.

“How did you find out?” Jake manages to grit out to Fanboy.

“It wasn’t really a secret, man.  Harvard…”  He trails off, doesn’t finish the sentence.

“Harvard what?”

Fanboy huffs out a breath, clearly uncomfortable.  “Harvard…saw them.  Once.  They were…y’know.  Out by the lifeguard station.”  He takes a step back and holds up his hands in surrender.  “Don’t take it out on us.  We all thought it was cool with you.  That open thing you have going.”

-----

Part of him doesn’t believe it.

Part of him doesn’t want to believe it.

Part of him—a small, conscience-driven part of him—understands that this is the consequences of his actions.  Part of him knows he’s reaping what he sowed.

But part of him doesn’t believe it.

He pulls himself together.  He waves off Fanboy, says he’s just joking around, that everything is fine.  He goes to the bar and orders a shot.  Throws it back.  Takes long, deep breaths and composes himself.

He doesn’t believe it, but belief isn’t proof.

Once he’s calm, he makes his way over to you.  He takes it slow, casual, and he studies your face when you catch sight of him.  You give him a smile, and Jake thinks Fanboy is full of shit.

Jake makes up a lie.  He tells you that he’s found a friend for the evening, but he uses his usual oblique wording to soften the blow of it.

“I’m heading out early,” he says.  “You good to go home alone?”

Your smile falls a little, but you nod.  Rooster, beside you, lets out a displeased grumble.

Bob says nothing at all.

Jake leans in and brushes a kiss against your mouth, and you tell him to be careful, and he replies for you to be careful too.  Then he turns and leaves the Hard Deck…but when he gets in his truck, he only drives it out of the lot and into the shadows of a nearby cross-street.  He has a perfect line of sight to the door of the Hard Deck, but no one would see him unless they knew exactly where in the darkness to look.

It doesn’t take long for Jake to get his proof.

Ten, maybe fifteen minutes after he moves, you leave the Hard Deck too.  You’re laughing, your smile is so wide it must hurt your face…and right at your heels stumbling behind you, his hands on your waist as the two of you make your way to the parking lot…

It’s Bob.

[fideidefenswhore]

chapuys/mary truthers when you mention their relationship 1536-47:

[curryshesus]

bts fics that radiate sheer utter brilliance

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 1

hello, hello! please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did <3 note: all of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni please). enjoy!

➺ the road to you - by @bonvoyagenoona

| ot7 x reader (tae focus) | 110k

au of all aus, best friend!taehyung, high school boyfriend!jimin, professor!yoongi, college boyfriend!jungkook, art enthusiast and city heartthrob!namjoon, barista!hobi, actor!jin, angst, fluff, smut, series

>>summary: "armed with your quick wit, creative passion, talent for storytelling, and innate understanding of your fanbase, you have met every challenge, surpassed every goal, and achieved the unimaginable. despite the earth shifting erratically under your firmly planted feet, you’ve always had a plan. you’ve made peace with the sacrifices you’ve had to make, and you’ve long forgotten the rejections and heartbreaks that came as a result. your agent keeps reminding you that you’re at the precipice of something new, that your audience is waiting for your next project with bated breath. this is usually when you thrive. so why do you feel so lost? and who can you count on from your past to help you find your way?"

➺ matilda - by @babystrcandy

| yoongi x reader | 141.8k

brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, min yoongi, came into your life. you both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. but with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true."

➺ bitchin' - by @kinktae

| jungkook x reader | 49.5k

1980’s au, inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before, e2l, fake lovers/college au, frat boy!jungkook, smut, series

>> summary: "the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook."

➺ flower - by @readyplayerhobi

| hoseok x reader |

online dating au, fluff, future angst, future smut, series

>> summary: "you finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the flower dating app. one of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. what happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

➺ suncity - by @jamaisjoons

| hoseok x reader | 17k

strangers to lovers au, vacation au, angst, fluff, smut, oneshot

>> summary: "when you’d taken a spontaneous trip to barcelona, you hadn’t expected to meet hoseok. more than that, you hadn’t expected to begin a torrid affair with him."

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

| jungkook x reader | 40.9k

fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, s2l, fwb, smut, angst, oneshot

>> summary: "jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return."

➺ peach parfait - by @jamaisjoons

| seokjin x reader | 19k

enemies to lovers au, fluff, smut, slight angst, two parts

>> summary: "you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts."

➺ tell me no lies - by @jeongi

| jungkook x reader | 15.1k

ceo au, criminal au, robbers au, angst, smut, minimal fluff

>> summary: "you chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him."

➺ concrete king - by @bratkook

| jungkook x reader | 16.7k

sweet summer romance, fluff, smut, himbo energy, two parts

>> summary: "when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there's no way you could ever say no to him."

[jnginlov]

ateez with a clingy and affectionate drunk partner

⇀ genre fluff

⇀ style reactions/headcanons

⇀ warnings reader is drunk, lots of physical affection (kisses, hugs, lap sitting, cuddling, etc)

note requested by @nnnarchives

seonghwa

no matter how many times you’ll get like this around him, he always seems surprised and will ask if you’re okay

cooing over you and babying you so much it makes everyone around you both sick

makes sure you’re drinking water or eating by bribing you with kisses and just smiles so adoringly when you announce that you finished the whole glass of water and are ready for your reward

eventually he catches you starting to doze off on his shoulder, arms wrapped tightly around his bicep as he chats softly with the person across from you both

he excuses himself quickly to usher you both home, where he’ll give you all the cuddles you could ever want

hongjoong

his reaction would be very situational

if you’re around other people, he will be so shy and probably ask if you want to leave because its just hard for him to handle you and control his darkening blush at the same time

if you’re alone he is soaking up all of the attention, absolutely ready to do anything you want and continually reminding you how pretty/beautiful/cute/sexy you are

if he’s also drunk then he just melts into the attention, encouraging you by asking for head scratches, laying in your lap, or falling asleep on your shoulder

any which way, he’s a blushing mess by the time you start dozing off, ready to call it a night

yeosang

he’s so blushy and giggly which of course only makes you cling tighter

giving you so many head pats while you hang off his arm but sort of doesn’t know what to do with himself

probably asks if you want to leave the function early because he wants to just pull you into his arms and cuddle you back but doesn’t feel like he can when you’re outside the bubble of your apartment

he’s going to be a little stiff but i promise he loves it, he just doesn’t know if you want him to be affectionate back unless you clearly tell him

yunho

literally so in love with you

he would find your drunk behavior so adorable and actively encourage you to sit in his lap or wrap your arms around his waist

you don’t even have to ask for kisses, he’s already peppering them all over your face

will just hold your face in his hands and stare at you so lovestruck as you pout, wanting more kisses

san

he’s the type to be oblivious to any increase in physical affection without verbal confirmation or acknowledgment from you, it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate it he just feels it to be so natural to who he is as a partner

when he does notice your drunken behavior, he’s immediately melting and pulling you into his arms, basically smothering you

this is when you get giggly san to make an appearance

if you’re in public, it immediately feels like you’re in your own bubble, just the two of you, as he matches all your affection with some of his own, the world around you melting away

if you’re at home, it might turn into something very domestic like sharing a dance in the middle of the kitchen or rambling about what the future has in store for you while wrapped in each others arms

mingi

he is literally so happy, his cheeks will hurt from smiling by the end of the night

he’s always worried about making you uncomfortable with initiating physical contact so for you to be the one initiating and doing so often, he is just ecstatic

if you get distracted or wonder away for a moment, he will subtly try to get your attention back and pretend that he’s surprised when you go back to clinging onto him

if you catch on to how much he’s liking the affection his ears will be red immediately as he drops his head into the crook of your neck to hide from your gaze, only giving you better access to pepper kisses against his cheek

wooyoung

he always matches your energy

so sorry to anyone in the general vicinity but you’ve just become the couple that will not separate from each other

will lean into you and tap his cheek as an invitation to give him a kiss

if you aren’t sitting on his lap, he’s sitting on yours

he enjoys enabling your behavior when you get like this but will also lightly tease, because the only thing he loves more than you clingy is you pouting at him, demanding more kisses as repayment

jongho

he’s definitely going to take the opportunity to tease you

he knows what you want but he’s going to pretend he has no clue and make you clearly say that you want to kiss him or even just hold his hand

don’t let his fake obliviousness fool you of course, he’s absolutely enamored by you and your affection, he just has a reputation to uphold, especially around his members

so he’s going to pretend like your kisses and hugs are annoyances, distractions from the conversation he’s trying to have with someone, but really he’s melting on the inside

but don’t worry, he’ll be sure to return your love once you’re out of the public eye

↼ ateez masterlist

note i had fun writing this, thank you for the request!

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Future Holds Me (billy hargrove)

Summary: You and Billy get interrupted by Max and Eleven.

Warnings: Fluff

WC: 1K

requested: by @fandom-princess-forevermore my beloved <3\\ You asked about domestic fluff for Billy Hargrove. It's simple for me: Billy and his girlfriend are enjoying some quiet, intimate time when Max and Eleven interrupt to talk boys or other stuff. They all bond, and when she returns to Billy, the subject of kids is brought up, and she pictures Billy as a cute girl dad.

Read on A03!

--

The soft glow of the afternoon sun filtered through the curtains of Billy’s bedroom, casting a warm light across the quiet space. You and Billy were tangled up on the bed, limbs intertwined as you lay in the comfortable silence. His fingers absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm while you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“This is nice,” you murmured, tilting your head to look up at him. His lips curled into a rare, soft smile, his usual cocky demeanor melted away in the comfort of your closeness.

“Yeah, it is,” Billy replied, his voice low and husky. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, making your heart flutter. Moments like this were rare, where he let his guard down completely, and you treasured them.

Before you could lose yourself completely in the moment, the door to Billy’s room swung open without warning. Startled, you both sat up, your peaceful bubble instantly burst by the two girls standing in the doorway—Max and Eleven.

"Hey!" Max greeted cheerfully, completely oblivious to the intimate moment she’d just interrupted. Eleven gave a small wave, her expression more reserved but curious as ever.

Billy groaned, flopping back onto the pillows with a dramatic sigh. “Seriously?” he muttered under his breath. “Can’t you two go bother someone else?”

Max ignored him completely, her attention already focused on you. “We were looking for you!” she said, her eyes lighting up. “We wanted to talk about boys.”

“Yeah, boys,” Eleven chimed in with a small smile, though her understanding of the subject was still a bit limited.

You laughed, sitting up a bit straighter. “Oh, yeah? Well, you’ve come to the right person.”

Billy rolled his eyes and sat up, clearly irritated at being interrupted. “You’re really going to leave me for this?” he asked, half-joking but with an edge of genuine annoyance.

“I’ll be right back,” you promised, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. He grumbled something under his breath but let you go.

You followed Max and Eleven out of the room and into the living room, where the three of you plopped down on the couch. The conversation flowed easily, with Max teasing you about Billy and Eleven asking curious questions about relationships. It was fun, bonding with the girls, and you could feel the sisterly affection Max had for you, especially now that she trusted you with her brother.

“Do you think Billy’s…good boyfriend material?” Max asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow as if genuinely unsure. Eleven’s eyes widened with interest.

You chuckled, thinking about how soft and gentle Billy could be when it was just the two of you. “He’s a lot better than he seems,” you admitted. “He just doesn’t show that side of himself to everyone.”

Max made a face, clearly not convinced. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Eventually, the conversation shifted from boys to other things, and by the time you were ready to head back to Billy, you felt a deeper connection to the two girls. They waved you off, satisfied with their bonding session, and you made your way back to Billy’s room, where he was sprawled out on the bed, looking impatient.

“Took you long enough,” he grumbled as you crawled back into bed beside him.

“Sorry, we got distracted,” you said, snuggling up next to him again. “They’re really sweet.”

Billy sighed, wrapping his arm around you again, though this time there was something more thoughtful about his expression. He was quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.

“You’re good with them,” he said softly, almost like he didn’t want to admit it. “With Max. And even with El. I’m not really…good at that kind of thing.”

You glanced up at him, surprised by the shift in his tone. “You could be,” you said gently. “You’re good when you try. Max looks up to you, even if she doesn’t show it.”

Billy’s expression softened, his blue eyes meeting yours with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “I dunno,” he muttered. “Sometimes I think maybe I wouldn’t be so bad at that…you know, having kids.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had never talked about the future like this, not seriously. But now that he’d brought it up, you couldn’t help but imagine it — Billy as a dad, maybe even a girl dad. You could picture him with a little girl on his shoulders, her giggles filling the air as he pretended to be annoyed but secretly loving every second of it.

“You’d be cute as a girl dad,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

Billy looked at you like you’d just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. “A girl dad?”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning now. “You’d be overprotective and teach her how to stand up for herself. She’d wrap you around her little finger, and you’d let her get away with everything.”

He snorted, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You think so?”

“I know so,” you teased, imagining a little girl with his blonde curls and piercing blue eyes, running around causing trouble just like him. “She’d be your mini-me.”

Billy’s smirk faded a little as he considered it, his expression growing serious. “I don’t know if I’d be good at it. I never had a good example, you know?”

You reached up, cupping his cheek with your hand. “You’d be better than you think, Billy. You’ve got a good heart, even if you don’t show it to everyone.”

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were soft, filled with an emotion you rarely saw from him. “Maybe,” he murmured. “One day.”

“One day,” you echoed, your heart swelling with the thought of a future you hadn’t fully considered until now.

Billy smiled at you, a real smile this time, before pulling you closer. “Guess we’ll see.”

And in that moment, wrapped up in his arms, you couldn’t help but believe that maybe, just maybe, Billy could be the dad you pictured him as — protective, loving, and better than he ever gave himself credit for.

[wttcsms]

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ you know i'll take you there

ᝰ.ᐟ shinsuke isn't too happy after your little escape attempt, and he makes it known. (fem!reader)

word count 2.5k content contains mating press, creampie, yakuza au, yandere themes, dubcon, praise kink, pet names (good girl), depictions of violence (not towards reader) author's notes sorry for lack of context; this is meant to take place after this fic concept

Shinsuke Kita doesn’t flinch when he pulls the trigger on a gun. 

The recoil doesn’t even register for him; when you do something for so long, eventually, it just becomes second nature. Like the mechanical movements you do when you brush your teeth, or the way you can tie your sneakers without having to actually look at the laces — shooting someone in the head is a mundane thing for Kita, for his line of work. He does it so often, has practiced it ever since he was a young boy, that what he does after is muscle memory. He removes the handkerchief from his suit and wipes the tiny splatter of blood that ended up getting on his cheek. He folds the sullied handkerchief neatly, tucking it away in the inner pocket of his suit. He makes sure the safety on his gun is in place, and he nods for Aran to drag the dead body away. 

When Aran takes his leave, the still-warm corpse in tow, the only people left in the room are Kita and a very scared young man. 

One of these men will be leaving this room, and the other will be hoping for a death as swift and merciful as the flawless execution Kita just delivered. 

“I told you there would be consequences,” Kita doesn’t taunt his victims. He’s not the type to do so. Cold and calculated — his own gang considers him to be a robot, and for the longest time, Kita agreed with them. But that was then, and this is now. Now, Kita has a reason to drag out his torture. Now, Kita understands what it’s like to find his very reason for existing. His purpose isn’t to lead one of the biggest yakuza families in the underground criminal world of Japan. His purpose is to devote his very being to you, and vice versa. 

So imagine how heartbroken he felt when he caught you trying to escape from the farmhouse he built for the two of you. And this man, a low-level runt in his group, had been foolish enough to give in and help you. 

“Please, sir, I wanted no part in the escape! She begged me, she—”

“She’ll receive her own punishment. I value fairness, after all.” Kita interrupts him, sounding as cold as the blood running through the young man’s veins. He’s frozen in fear as he tries to stammer out more excuses, more explanations, more promises to do better in the future but—

—there really isn’t much of a future for him. Not one that he’ll be happy to live in, at least. Kita is fair; having you slip away would have killed him internally. So now, Kita has to kill this man internally. Crush his spirit. Make him dream of death, dangle death in front of his face like a treat to a dog, but never, ever allow him such a kindness. 

(Kita is a fair leader, but very rarely is he kind. 

Kindness will get you killed. 

The boy dumb enough to help you — he’s kind.)

Kita retrieves a knife from one of the inconspicuous cabinets in this room. The fluorescent light hanging from the ceiling casts a warm glow over the both of them, but the blade of the knife reflects back the light, makes it shine in the poor boy’s face. He flinches. 

“Do you remember?” Kita asks him, turning the knife as if to inspect it from every angle. 

“Wh-what?” He stutters out, sounding breathless. He might be on the verge of a panic attack. That’ll make things messier than they need to be. 

“Do you remember what hand you used when you held hers?” Kita clarifies. He sounds calm, but the sight of another man holding your hand had him seething. Even now, it takes everything in him to not plunge the knife right into this young man’s heart, to twist the blade ‘round his insides, make him hurt like how Kita hurt when he witnessed it. 

“It was your left hand.” Kita answers for him. “Fortunately, you’re right-handed. Surely it won’t be too much of an inconvenience for you after I’m done sawing it off.” 

Kita’s chopped off a few fingers and one hand before, but never has he attempted to do it with a medium sized knife. A knife with a purposely dull blade. 

He smiles faintly. Sometimes, it can be fun to break routine and try new things.

You’re in bed by the time Kita returns home. He’s back later than he expects; it turns out, his little experiment with the dull blade is very, very messy. Maybe with practice, he’ll perfect that, too. That boy still has another hand to spare, after all. 

Feeling satisfied with himself, Kita starts humming gently as he makes his way to your shared bedroom. Before you, Kita never bothered making unnecessary noise. He rarely listened to music, but now—

The sting of your betrayal has lessened considerably. Kita isn’t even upset with you anymore. It’s normal for couples to fight and want to storm out on each other, but what matters most is that at the end of the day, he’s coming home to find you warming his bed. 

In his line of work, simple pleasures aren’t usually so sweet. 

You don’t stir when he joins you in bed, the mattress dipping just the slightest bit due to the sudden shift in weight, but he makes his presence hard to ignore, even in your slumber, when he presses his chest against your back, his lips nipping gently on the soft skin of your ears. 

You whine, your eyesight blurry as your eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re instantly aware of Kita’s body covering your own, and when he feels the subtle shivers of your body, the both of you know it’s not because of the chill of the air conditioner.

He makes a tiny grunt of disapproval. Even after all this time, you’re scared of him? Silly girl — he’d never do anything to hurt you. 

Well, nothing that would hurt you too badly. 

“Did ya have a good dream?” He asks you, breath warm against your ear. 

You swallow hard, not brave enough to shift your body. Ever since the truth came out, the fact that sweet Shinsuke is more than just an average overworked businessman but is a yakuza crime boss, things have never been the same between you two. Kita is nothing if not persistent, though. He still cuddles up against you, he still whispers sweet nothings in your ear, he’s still affectionate and downright loving in every action he does towards you. 

He knows not to expect an answer from you, especially when he plays with the bottom hem of your silk nightgown. “Wish ya would tell me what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” 

You can picture him frowning; as perceptive as he is, you know that he prefers hearing your thoughts directly from you. 

“What happened to Goto?” You dare to ask, and the air seems to shift in your bedroom. 

Kita is gripping the soft flesh of your thighs, his hand large and imposing, rough with calluses and forever red with blood. You never really learn, you suppose, about how there’s a time and place for such questions. 

“Goto received his punishment.” Kita answers calmly, voice steady but cold. “And I nearly forgot about yours.” 

Liar. You want to call him out, but you at least have enough self-preservation to bite your tongue. As if Kita would ever forget. It hasn’t even been a full twenty-four hours since your little escape attempt. 

Kita adores you, loves you, because in a world of greedy, nasty, spiteful little creatures, you are kind and caring and full of the sugary sweet goodness he’s always going to have a taste for. It’s why he’s not surprised when you ask him, 

“Is he… alive?” 

He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “Is that what you’re really worried about? Goto, over the broken heart of your husband?” 

When you don’t answer, Kita tightens his grip on your thigh, contemplating his next move, before he lets his hand travel to the apex of your thighs, his knuckles brushing against your bare cunt. He’s pleased to find out that you’re still his obedient, sweet girl, following his direct order of going to bed without a bra or panties. Some nights, he’s so tired, any excess fabric is a hindrance. 

“If you have a heart, you’ll tell me what happened to him.” You mumble, trying to ignore the way your body craves for Kita’s touch. Before the truth of his second life came out, you were an addict for him. No one has ever touched him the way he’s touched you, and even now, when you want to ignore him and try to remind yourself of what an awful person he truly is, you can’t.

There’s a traitorous part of your heart and soul that still longs for Kita, no matter the truth.

“It’s because I have a heart that I didn’t kill him.” Kita isn’t lying. The torture was for his pleasure, sure, but he knows how upset and inconsolable you would be if you felt like you were responsible for Goto’s death. The register of his voice lowers as he speaks again, though. His warning leaves you frozen in fear.

“If his filthy hands ever touch you again, I’ll kill him.” 

There are a litany of reasons why you find yourself in the position you’re currently in: wanting, waiting, whining for Kita. Fear, for one thing. You feel compelled to do whatever he wants, considering the sheer difference in strength and power between the two of you. But try as you might, it’s hard to ignore the tiny, nagging voice in your head that lulls you into a state of docile desire. Kita’s always taken care of you, right? You were in love with him, for fuck’s sake. And as you ride his fingers, content to wrap your warm, wet heat around three of his digits as he chuckles at your wanton display, that nagging voice reminds you that you still do — love him, that is. 

Three fingers buried deeply in the warmth of your cunt is enough to make you forget about the events leading up to tonight. He withdraws his fingers, much to your displeasure, and you whine out for him to continue with his ministrations before he shuts you up by forcing you to suck his thumb. You can feel the rough skin of his finger on your tongue, and you hollow your cheeks, treating this situation as if you were about to suck his cock, and your tongue laps at the pad of his thumb before he removes it from your mouth. 

Without any preamble, he’s back to burying his fingers into your pussy, his thumb — wet with your saliva — pressed firmly against your clit. 

“Do you wish it was my cock filin’ you up?” He grunts out, rubbing mercilessly against your clit as you continue to writhe against the bedsheets. Your cheeks feel warm, blood rushing up to your chest and face, and you bite down on your bottom lip, knowing your answer. A shameless, pitiful yes. 

“You’re so beautiful, so sweet, so kind.” In his world, kindness gets you killed. Kita’s no different from any other man in his line of work, and it’s why he’s ravaging you right now. Pumping his fingers in and out of your slick hole, making a mess of his fingers, of your pussy, of the bedsheets, of you. It’s why every time he brings you to your climax, you cum violently. You’re letting out a string of stuttered, fractured fucks mixed in with sharp intakes of breath and Shinsuke’s, and you buck your hips wildly against his fingers, pushing his digits even further in as you cum. 

With your mind hazy from pleasure, your brain scrambled from sleepiness and an intense orgasm, Kita wastes no time pouncing on you. There’s no chance for you to beg for him to wait, and you register that this must be your punishment.

Shinsuke is going to fuck you without any of his normal restraint.

He slides in your sopping wet cunt in one sharp thrust, burying his thick cock deep into your warm, snug hole. He likes having a routine, he likes having set boundaries and rules, he likes being a man of practicality. But right now, he’s fucking you like a wild beast. All you can do is just take it; take his relentless thrusts, his anger, his need to dominate you, to remind you who you belong to. 

“Open up.” He demands, his voice rough and thick with desire. You comply; it’s so easy, considering that you haven’t been able to hold back a single moan as he has his way with you. He spits directly into your mouth, watching the way his saliva sits on the surface of your pink tongue. He doesn’t need to command you to swallow, because you do, savoring the taste of him.

He makes you look him in the eyes as he fucks into you relentlessly. One hand is gripping your hip, practically crushing you as he pounds into your pussy. You’re so fucking wet that the sounds of him moving in and out of your cunt are so lewd, so loud. The inescapable burn of pain and pleasure, the sensitivity of your cunt having to endure his insatiable lust, has you moaning like a bitch in heat. 

“Shin— Shinsuke! G-gonna cum!” You squeak out, and it only motivates Kita to double down. He holds up your legs, your limbs burning from the stretch as he continues to get rougher with his movements. You’re looking at him with a dazed, fucked out expression, and he has the audacity to let out a chuckle. 

“There’s my good girl.” He praises you, spitting into your open mouth once more. 

With your legs trembling and the foggy haze of pleasure clouding your head, you greedily, happily accept his praise. Your legs press tightly against his sides, and with his spit in your mouth and his cock drilling into you with even sharper movements than before, you cum. 

Kita lets out a grunt of approval as he finishes inside of you, a load of hot seed pouring deep inside of you as he keeps your legs folded, his hips pressed against yours, as if he wants to plug you up with his cum. He kisses your forehead that’s glistening with sweat from the heat of his body colliding with yours; it seems the two orgasms he wrung out of you have taken its toll on your body. You’re a pliant, fucked out little mess — his pliant, fucked out little mess. 

“Good girl.” He murmurs sweetly. “I love you so much.” 

He doesn’t wait for you to say it back. He just pulls out his cock a bit before thrusting back into you. This action causes you to let out another long, drawn out moan. He’s absolutely relentless, and as tired as you are, you realize that you don’t want him to stop.

(Pity that you’re not capable of speech at the moment.

Because you would have told him that you love him, too.)

[bakubonez]

Snap out of it!

Katsuki Bakugo x oblivious! GN! Reader

Summary thing: Katsuki likes you and apparently you have no idea.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Warnings: not proof read cuz I’m lazy, reader doesn’t know Katsuki likes them at all + they convince themselves he doesn’t lol, ambiguous ending, mostly focuses on Katsuki’s POV I think

You were an idiot. But Katsuki liked you regardless.

It was a problem, really. You’d weaseled your way into Katsuki’s group of friends, instantly charming everyone. He’d been more difficult to please, though. You’d been okay with it—you knew he’d come around eventually.

Which he did. Problem was, he’d come around and he’d fallen head over heels for you. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue, he could’ve just confessed or flirted with you.

Katsuki had decided to go with the method of dropping hints and flirting rather than straight up confessing to you. He wanted to test the waters first. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d like him; he’d seen the glances when you thought he wouldn’t notice, the little touches, your faint smile when he joined whatever you and his other friends were doing that day(after some pressure from Eijiro!). He knew there was no way it could possibly go wrong.

Little did he know, you were oblivious to his advances.

You constantly brushed his teasing remarks and flattery off as him being nice, not interested in jumping to the conclusion of him reciprocating your feelings in case you were wrong. You didn’t want to get your hopes up and your feelings hurt. So you ignored what he was doing, always somehow convincing yourself that the increase in your heart rate and the heat burning your skin when he made his stupid jokes and such was simply a trick of the mind. He didn’t like you. You just had to accept that fact and get on with it.

It was infuriating to Katsuki, though. Maybe infuriating isn’t the right word, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to be truly angered by you any more. Frustrating. There it was. You were unbelievably frustrating.

He adored you. Ever since the realisation of his feelings had dawned on him, he hadn’t been able to scrub any corner of his mind of you. You always lingered there. When he got bored in class he’d think of you, zoning out while the teacher at the front went on and on about something that clearly wasn’t anywhere near as relevant as you. He’d stumble across videos online that made him think of you, that made him think, ‘you’d like this’. Some of them would make it to you, but sometimes he’d already sent so many of them that day that he needed to save it to a little folder dedicated to you, to keep for when he needed an excuse to message you.

Katsuki hadn’t come to UA with the intention of making friends. But he had. And now he was on the complete other side of his initial promise—chasing not only a friend, but a romantic connection.

And so, the days went on where he’d shoot his shot and miss. He’d miss because you kept interfering. You kept brushing it off.

Eventually he resorted to telling Eijiro, whining and complaining to you about how stubborn and irritating you were right now, but also how much he’d come to treasure you. You’d become precious to him, nestled in your own little place in his heart. He was having a hard time trying to get over you. Maybe it was because he really didn’t want to.

At the end of the day, despite how much he complained about your oblivious nature, he couldn’t bring himself to scrap the future he’d carefully carved out in his mind for the two of you. Katsuki wanted those sweet, domestic moments that he would’ve ignored with anyone else but you. He wanted the less sweet ones, arguments and results of villain battles. All of it. He wanted all of it. He wanted all of you.

It didn’t matter to him what you thought a partner wouldn’t like in you. To him, there was nothing to dislike. The curve of your nose, the colour of your eyes, the texture of your skin, your laugh. Even the parts of you that you tried to hide, he loved all of it. He couldn’t imagine a time where he didn’t.

For now, though, he had to wait patiently for you to catch on, or for his self control to slip from him. He had to tell you the truth one day. You’d snap out of it.

Katsuki hoped it wouldn’t be too late by the time he did.

[cheenapri]

Transactional [Yandere Illumi Zoldyck x Reader]

Day four + five

Summary: Illumi takes you to meet his family as promised, it goes exactly how you'd expected to some degree. You're tired afterward and Illumi ends the date in the best way possible.

Word count: 13k ish

Notes: yandere, kidnapping, gender neutral reader, unhealthy relationships, unbalanced power dynamics, mentions of past abuse, the dinner is very uncomfy for the reader, Illumi slowly exhibits signs of horniness

A/N: There will be a bonus chapter but it takes place in the future rather than being a continuation of this! Thanks for the support! :3

Day one Day two + three

Taglist: @alien-00715-blog @rebirthbunbun

Your wrist hurts. You think it’s broken if the unnatural lump didn’t give it away. You simply stare at it, cradling it with your other hand as you sit in the corner. It hurts like hell, but you’re somehow tolerating the pain.

“It’s not broken,” Illumi states, the dim light shadowing his face as he slowly slides off the bed and approaches you, “it’s simply dislocated.”

His eyes are half-lidded from what you could see of them, signaling his mild disappointment with you. You don’t respond, looking up at him as you continue to cradle your poor wrist. Illumi crouches down to your level, long hair draping perfectly over his shoulders. 

He’s beautiful, even in times like these.

He’s within arm’s reach, staring you dead in the eyes with that same disappointed expression. He only seemed to show emotion during times like these, wanting to make it clear to you just how stupid your actions were. 

He reaches a hand toward you, palm facing upward. “Give me your hand.” 

You’re reluctant, afraid he wasn’t done punishing you and was fixing to dislocate or even break more bones. Your heart was beating rapidly, your knees pushed against your chest with your injured wrist resting in between. Illumi only gestured his hand, he was becoming impatient.

“I won’t ask again.” his eyes are still boring into you.

You exhale sharply, tears stinging your eyes as you slowly present your injured wrist to him. He looks down at it, grabbing it roughly before quickly popping the bone back into place; the sudden sharp pain causing you to jolt and instinctively yank your arm. He doesn’t let go, grip tightening even further as he watches a tear fall down your face.

“Fix your face,” he orders. “you’re in no position to cry. This is your own fault.”

You quickly wipe your tears with your free hand, looking down at your knees as you try to prevent more from coming. Illumi then brings his other hand to firmly grab your wrist, rotating it to ensure everything was back in place. You wince in pain but manage to prevent yourself from pulling away again.

He finally lets go of your arm, slowly standing as you quickly pull your arm back into you. He’s staring down at you, his eyes melting holes into your soul. “I don’t understand why you can’t just behave.” he says, voice condescending, “You do know this means you won’t get food for a while, right?”

Fuck, you must’ve really upset him.

What you had done wasn’t even of great defiance, you had simply knocked his hand away when he was trying to wake you up for the third time. He was sitting too close to you on the edge of the bed and had visited at two in the morning according to the digital clock on the wall. You were tired, and disoriented, as he’d woken you to talk to you about his day. It wasn't uncommon for him to do this, unconsciously using you as an emotional outlet regardless of what you were doing. 

You should’ve just entertained him, he would’ve left eventually. You could tell his silent frustration was building every time you gave a hum or silence for an answer, his voice changing slightly with every other lazy response. You kept falling back asleep as he talked about his earlier activities, giving explicit details about his killings and quirky adventures in his flat, bored tone. He was annoying.

It all happened so fast, your wrist quickly being grabbed and dislocated as you tried to stop him from shaking the sleepiness out of you for the third time, the pain causing you to fall out of bed and scoot against the wall. 

That leaves you in your current predicament.

“Next time I’ll break it. You’re lucky I didn’t do that from the beginning.” he says, staring down at you. He doesn’t say another word as he goes to leave, your body relaxing once he’s out of the room, the titanium door clicking shut behind him.

Your wrist still hurts, and now you won’t be able to sleep at all tonight.

.

.

.

Opening your eyes, you exhale deeply as you’ve had yet another nightmare regarding Illumi. Your body is sore. You can’t move, at least you don’t want to, not with Illumi spooning you like this. You can feel his head resting against you, his grip around your waist still firm. You wish to get up though, to be free of his hold, and so you shift, pushing down on his arms to move them off you. He doesn’t budge; you can’t tell if he’s asleep or awake. You shift again, putting a lot more force into it this time. His hold briefly tightens as he suddenly rolls over, dragging you with him and slamming you back onto the bed with more aggression than he intended. 

He was definitely awake. 

You were in an even worse position now as he managed to smother you even more, his weight partially on top of you and his embrace even tighter. You’re still as you lay there, wondering what it was you did in life to deserve treatment such as this. 

“Illumi,” you call out to him. He remains silent. “Illumi,” you call again, reaching forward and allowing your hands to dangle off the edge of the bed. 

He finally responds, “Hm?” 

“Could you let go of me?” you ask. He falls silent yet again, not making any move to loosen his hold on you. “Please, Illumi.” you feign a softer voice.

A few seconds pass before Illumi reluctantly releases his grip, eyes watching as you quickly slide off the bed. He continues to lay sprawled out in the same position as if you were still underneath him, his black eyes tracking your every movement. You quickly make your way into the safety of the bathroom, relaxing once the door is shut and locked behind you. 

Taking your time with your morning routine, you take a minute to stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed and your lips form a small frown, even when you relax your face. Spending so much time around Illumi is starting to take its toll on you; you hope this stupid date ends before your face transforms into a permanently pissed expression. 

You take a second to rub your temples, massaging them to soothe your growing anxiety as your mind starts thinking about tonight’s dinner. It doesn’t work, you’ll just have to deal with it. 

You sigh before opening the door, fully expecting to see Illumi standing and staring on the other side. You don’t. Instead, he was over by the balcony door, the curtains covering it moved aside as he looked out. He doesn’t acknowledge you despite knowing you were watching him. Your eyes shift to his hip-length hair, taking this moment to admire how it always seemed to flow gracefully behind him.

You finally speak up after staring at him momentarily, “What’s the plan for today? Before we go back to Kukuroo Mountain?”

Illumi continues to stare out the glass door before he slowly turns to look back at you. His expression is neutral, but something feels off about him. He turns forward again. “There is an aquarium I wanted to visit… after breakfast, of course.”

Looking down at the oversized Persian rug sitting in the middle of the room, you bring your hand up to your chin. “So… who are your family members?” 

He replies, “They are assassins."

“I meant their names and personalities.” you reiterate, rolling your eyes. 

He finally turns around to face you. “You shouldn’t concern yourself with that.” 

Illumi knew you were still anxious about tonight’s events, trying to predict your fate by gathering what little information you could. He thought you were worrying over nothing. Without you asking, he walks over to the wardrobe, takes out multiple outfits, and lays them out on the bed. He then looks up at you expectantly, seemingly allowing you to choose your outfit again.

You look down at the options, then up at him, not knowing how to respond to his sudden susceptibility. Illumi wasn’t one to give you a choice, let alone give you a choice without you asking for it. You assumed his recent submission to your requests was simply to get you to shut up, thinking he’d return to his overcontrolling ways immediately after the storm passed; he didn’t, he’s only favoring you more.

You take an outfit that caught your eye and change in the bathroom, taking extra time to ensure you look perfect. The last thing you wanted was to sit in front of the Zoldycks looking a complete mess, though that should be the least of your worries. You move to sit on the lounge chair once you are finished. It doesn’t take Illumi long to get ready himself, your eyes lingering on him as he shuffles through a drawer, pulling out an orange pill bottle and shaking a singular tablet into his hand. 

He examines it for a moment, then grabs a water bottle sitting on the dresser before turning and offering you the items. “You should take this.”

You slowly grab the items, examining the little pill yourself before looking up at him. “What is it?” you ask.

“Diamox. It helps with altitude sickness.”

Confusion was spread across your face before you realized he was taking you to the actual Zoldyck mansion located on the mountain’s peak, making this much more personal and intimate than you ever wanted it to be. “Wait, we’re going all the way up the mountain?!” 

“Indeed. I would rather not have you passing out in front of everyone, so I’d advise that you take the pill.”

“What happened to just meeting on ground level?” you ask, clearly not wanting to be taken up the mountain.

“Some members of my family aren’t very fond of leaving the house. Just take the pill.”

You examine the pill further before reluctantly popping it in your mouth and taking a swig of the water. The pill is a bit hard to swallow but you manage to get it down. You had taken too long though, allowing it to dissolve a bit and leave an awful taste in your mouth. Illumi takes the water bottle from you, placing it on the TV stand before slowly grabbing your hand. It felt like your hand no longer belonged to you whenever he held it as if he had completely removed it from your body.

Illumi then walks you out of the suite. He didn’t seem to be in any rush, his pace was slower than it ever had been. He feels oddly warm compared to his usual coldness, his grip surprisingly gentle. Instead of taking you to the hotel’s restaurant as usual, he takes you to an outdoor dining area, sitting you down at a two-person table. The table was more of a small patio table than an actual dining table, resulting in him being closer than necessary; your legs would’ve touched if you weren’t seated sideways. 

You stare at the blockades surrounding the hotel, then at the trees gently swaying in the wind. You can’t see people in the distance from here as the trees and hedges block your view. The butlers that would be standing guard outside the hotel were out of view at Illumi’s request, leaving just the two of you in complete silence. 

“What’s the change for?” you finally ask after avoiding Illumi’s stare for some time, looking past him but not directly at him. 

He slowly blinked at you from what you could see in your peripheral vision, not responding audibly. You look away just as quickly, nervously scratching your head and turning your attention to anything other than him. 

He thought it’d be nice to eat outside, thinking it would clear your mind and dissuade you from saying anything he would make you regret, especially since he was much closer to you now. The last thing he needed was an incident right before you met his family — or any incident at all seeing how you’d become more docile since yesterday’s episode. It was probably the trauma. 

His eyes remained fixated on you, a slight change in his way of staring that managed to make you even more uncomfortable. It wasn’t a negative emotion he was hinting at thankfully, but you still couldn’t help but be slightly concerned as you couldn’t decipher it, only knowing that it felt a little more… intense.

“Aren’t you tired of staring at me?” you ask, still refusing to look at him. 

“No.” his answer came as quick and honest as you’d expected.

“It makes me nervous.”

“I know.” he admits but doesn’t make any attempt to avert his attention. 

It was his love language, when he wasn’t upset, the size of his pupils further indicating the intensity of his emotions. You quickly glance at him. His pupils were round rather than their usual oval shape, he was really admiring you. You look away yet again. 

A butler approaches, placing a singular plate of food and fork on the table before returning to his station. You look down at it, then up at Illumi. You noticed his hand position, him gripping both sides of his chair as if he planned to scoot even closer to you.

“Nope,” you objected before he could move, “we aren’t doing this today.” 

Illumi pauses, his pupils slowly returning to their oval shape. A small frown on his face as he slowly sunk back into his chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

He chose not to force it. Thank god. 

You quickly grab the fork and plate before he can change his mind. It was a small, basic feat but you felt victorious nonetheless. You take your time eating, allowing yourself to enjoy the flavor rather than quickly chew and swallow like you would if he were adamant about feeding you. He continues gazing at you, but you manage to ignore it.

Eventually, you finish, placing the small, empty plate on the table. Illumi stands, as do you, and you follow him around the side of the hotel. His pace suddenly slows before you reach the truck, however, then stops completely. “There is something I wish to give you before we set off.” he says dully.

You look at him curiously as he fishes in his pocket, pulling out a small, black box. When did he sneak that into his pocket? He turns to you, presenting the piece of jewelry inside. It was a ring — an engagement ring. 

Your eyes snap from the ring to him, to the ring again, then finally back at him. “Don’t you think it’s a little late for this?” you ask almost sarcastically, but secretly dreading having to wear it, especially in front of others.

“I would’ve given it to you sooner, but you tend to be quite unpredictable. For your safety, I thought it best to hold onto it until I could ensure you wouldn’t destroy it.” Illumi’s voice was soft despite his subtle threat.

You watch as he takes the ring out, putting the now empty box back into his pocket and holding his hand out to you. You’re reluctant, not really fond of sporting it despite knowing you didn’t have a choice. After giving him your nondominant hand, he gently slides the ring onto your finger, holding it for a little too long as he gazes in admiration at the little piece of jewelry while you stare in repugnance. 

“We’re now officially married.” Illumi says unenthusiastically, slowly releasing your hand. He wasn’t wearing a ring, though.

The way he continued to stand there and stare down at you made you feel as if he was preparing to try something. Your suspicions were confirmed when he slowly raised both of his hands as if moving to cup your face, his staring becoming intense yet again. You quickly turned away.

“You’re wasting time. I want to go to the aquarium.” you said, hoping to dissuade him from whatever it was he thought of trying. 

Illumi remained quiet, his hands paused midair. You’re just being shy, he can wait a bit longer. Thankfully, his hands began their descent down at his sides and he slowly shifted his gaze to the black truck up ahead. “The aquarium… right.”

He began walking once again, much to your relief, and you soon found yourself seated in the passenger side of the truck. Soft music played as he pulled onto the empty road, though it was quieter than usual. 

The aquarium was quite large, just as you’d hoped, the only living beings in there being the aquatic life, a few butlers, a few employees, and, of course, you and Illumi. You watch the dolphins as they swim in circles, occasionally leaping out of the pool and spouting water out of their blowholes. There was a glass wall next to their indoor enclosure, giving a clear view of the vast lake just outside the aquarium. You found it cruel, completely understanding what the dolphins must be feeling whenever they caught a glimpse of the freedom they should’ve had. 

Illumi doesn’t notice anything, though if he did, he’d argue that species of dolphin won’t survive in lakes, therefore justifying their imprisonment.

He’s silent as he follows you around, seemingly lost in thought as he doesn’t appear to be as engaged as you were; not that you were super engaged either, the pretty fish and marine life doing little to take your mind off of what’s to come. 

“We’ve been here longer than we should’ve. It’s time to go back to the hotel.” Illumi’s voice fills the room. 

You continue to look down at the gray tree frogs as they sit perched on a branch, their large, black eyes looking back at you. You eventually look up at Illumi, frowning in a pathetic attempt to change his mind about the whole dinner thing. He stares at you blankly, indifferent to your emotions, and begins walking back toward the aquarium’s entrance. You groan loudly, to which he ignores, and follow him. The ride back was silent, he didn’t play any music. 

As you arrive in the hotel’s parking lot, you take note of two limousines parked out front, Shiori standing next to one of them. Illumi does his performance, helping you out of the car, and guiding you over to Shiori. She bows in formality, but Illumi ignores her. He opts to help you inside the limo, but he doesn’t get in himself, only shutting the door behind you and leaving you alone and confused. 

“Hello, Master (Name).” Shiori greets after entering the limo a few moments later, the vehicle starting and beginning to make the long drive back to Kukuroo Mountain. 

“Uh, hi?” you’re still confused. 

Shiori dryly chuckles, “I suppose Master Illumi didn’t tell you that you would be riding with me?”

“No, he didn't.”

“Master Illumi does like to keep to himself. I was instructed to inform you of the details and proper etiquette regarding tonight’s event as well as answer any questions you may have. To start, how are you feeling now?” Shiori’s voice is soft yet monotone, her gloved hands resting neatly on her lap. 

‘Well, I’m scared and I don’t want to go.” you say, fiddling your thumbs together as you look out the window. 

“I understand your feelings, Master (Name), but I assure you have nothing to be afraid of.”

That’s easy for her to say. She has a place within the Zoldyck family, whereas you don’t. 

“I’m going to be an outsider sitting in a room full of notorious killers. I have everything to be afraid of.” you say. You didn’t know much about the Zoldyck family aside from the fact that they kill and hire only skilled butlers to serve them, as well as any small details Illumi and your assigned butler were willing to share.

Shiori chuckles again. “The Zoldycks are assassins rather than mere killers. Their job is to complete missions for clients, not harm innocent people. As you are Master Illumi’s partner and no threat to them in any way, they would have no reason to harm you.”

You cringe at being called Illumi’s partner, the sound of it making your stomach churn. “Don’t call me that.” you groan, shutting your eyes as you bury your face into your hand and lean against the door. 

“My apologies, Master (Name). Shall I begin my lesson on etiquette?”

You agree and tone her out as soon as she starts her lecture. She explains that you are to sit and be silent unless directly spoken to, only answering with short responses if that was the case. Shiori put great emphasis on the word “directly” as if hinting at something greater.

Shiori continues, gesturing her hands as she speaks, “You absolutely must remain composed throughout the dinner, even if someone is insulting you.”

This catches your attention. You turn to face her again. “What do you mean by that?”

Shiori stops her gesturing, moving her hands back down to her lap, a small frown on her face. “What I mean is that it is of the utmost importance that you don’t let anyone’s offensive behavior get to you.”

Oh, someone wasn’t pleased about your existence. Your anxiousness was justified and you began fiddling your thumbs once more. Shiori simply stares at you, her head slightly tilted as if trying to get a better angle of your face. 

“So like,” you start, causing Shiori to straighten herself, “who are they?”

Shiori answers swiftly, “The Zoldycks are a family of assassins. They are highly skilled at their jobs and are known for their efficiency as well as their lethality.”

God, you can’t stand how much in common she has with Illumi.

“I meant their names and all.” you reiterate.

“My apologies, Master (Name). The Zoldyck family members you will be meeting today include Master Kikyo, Master Illumi’s mother; Master Silva, Master Illumi’s father; Master Zeno, Master Illumi’s grandfather;  Master Milluki, Master Illumi’s younger brother; and Master Kalluto who is Master Illumi’s youngest brother.” she explains. Your head is spinning from the amount of times she’s said the word “master” but you managed to retain the information. “There is also Master Killua who is also Master Illumi’s younger brother, but he will not be present.”

Shiori intentionally leaves out further details regarding Killua’s inability to attend the dinner, not wanting to give you a bad impression of him simply not caring, though he doesn’t, but also not wanting to delve into his and Illumi’s unsteady relationship. It would be awkward to mention that one time he tried to murder his little sister, right?

“Oh.” You reply simply, turning your attention down to your shoes.

“Is there anything else you would like to know, Master (Name)?” Shiori inquires. 

You’re silent for a moment as you slowly glance out the window before looking back at her. “What are your thoughts on this shitshow?”

Her eyebrows raise slightly, but she doesn’t comment on your use of profanity. She answers, “My personal thoughts on the matter are irrelevant, my only job here is to provide the assistance and support you need to strive.”

You frown. “Do they know about all the horrible things Illumi has done to me so far?”

“They do know where you’re being kept and that your circumstances may not be entirely voluntary, but they don’t know all the intimate details. Some may have their suspicions but are choosing not to confront as you are a rather… sensitive matter.” she pauses for a moment before continuing, her face showing slight guilt. “Additionally, they may feel it is not their place to interfere with Master Illumi’s personal matters, especially one as unique as this.”

You don’t respond as you simply stare at her, causing her to sink back into her seat. “Shiori,” you finally say, “why did you choose to work as a butler for them?”

She’s nervous, though she tries her best not to show it. Her eyes shift downward towards the ring on your finger, then back up to your eyes. “I believed becoming a butler would provide me with the opportunity to learn and grow. Working for an individual like Master Illumi is challenging but also rewarding, his high expectations require me to constantly push myself in order to improve and excel at what I do.”

“What about taking care of his hostage is rewarding?”

She knew you’d ask that as you’ve asked something similar in the past. She thought it appropriate to give you a direct answer, though finally. ‘While the circumstances regarding your situation are not ideal, I asked to become your personal butler with the goal of providing you with a comfortable life at the estate. I knew he would be more likely to choose a butler like me after the… incident… that had occurred, so convincing him wasn’t difficult.” she looked down at her hands, a small frown on her face. “I understand your feelings towards the situation, Master (Name). I really do. It’s rewarding to see you smile though, even despite what’s happening. I only wish to see you happy.”

Shiori does genuinely care about you, though in her own way. A way much, much better than Illumi’s in your eyes. You wonder if the two of you would’ve been friends in an alternate universe. 

“Do you..” you pause for a moment, “do you know how or why Illumi came up with this date idea?”

Illumi had already answered this, but you felt as though there was a huge part of it he was leaving out. You couldn’t bring yourself to believe that he’d suddenly thought of treating you like an actual person, to some degree, after months of torment and controlling behavior. 

“I’m sorry, Master (Name), but I don’t think I’m allowed to disclose that type of information even if I did.” Shiori states, continuing to stare down at her hands.

She had her suspicions when a butler from another group began lingering around your residence far too often, though she never confronted the older lady, only humoring her questions to some degree and directing her to Illumi if she wanted more in-depth answers. She could feel Silva’s judgemental stare through her monocle as she did so. 

She didn’t know much about Silva, but she knew he wasn’t entirely devoid of compassion. He most likely sent in his own butler after realizing just how serious Illumi was when he failed to hear news of your inevitable death after the fifth month. He wanted to assess the situation and see if you really were Illumi’s so-called spouse. 

You weren’t, not willingly at least. He concluded that you were more of a plaything than a spouse; he thought Illumi was confused.

He got his scoop but did not confront his son about it. He did, however, help in other ways such as giving Illumi a lesson on how to court his partner and being very thorough on how said partner should be treated.

This resulted in Illumi being softer towards you — or rather less likely to physically punish you. Shiori didn’t tell you any of this though, it was best if you remained unaware.

You stay silent for the rest of the car ride, feeling ill when the limo pulls through the gates and takes a specific manmade trail up the mountain. The bumpy ride only made you feel even more sick. Why didn’t they choose a better vehicle for this?

You refrain from looking out of the window, afraid leaning too much against the door to get a better look at the cliff would cause the limo to tip and you all to fall to your deaths. Shiori attempts to calm you as you’re now visibly shaking, but her monotone voice and nearly blank expression don’t help. You feel queasy, your heart feels heavy. You can’t tell if you’re sick due to anxiety or sick due to the high altitude. Probably both, though that Diamox should’ve kicked in by now. 

You let out a small whine as the limo slowly pulls up in front of the Zoldyck mansion, all of your negative emotions intensifying as reality sinks in. It’s cold. You hope it's due to the altitude and not from the lingering threat of death. The sea of dark lenticular clouds surrounding the mountain only makes it worse, you can’t see anything other than rock formations poking out from the clouds as well as occasional lightning.

It’s like you’re in a whole new dimension.  

“Master (Name),” Shiori calls out as she gently grabs your trembling hand, “I assure you that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. No harm will befall you.” she states once again with a gentle smile. 

You respond in the form of a tear rolling down your cheek, your eyes wide as you stare at her. You quickly wipe it away as your door is suddenly opened, the breeze only making you feel colder. 

You take several deep breaths, swallowing hard as you slowly turn to face Illumi. He’s holding his hand out as usual, but his eyes have a more dictatorial feel to them. You quickly take his hand, assuming his family is watching and judging despite not being present. He doesn’t say anything as he helps you out of the vehicle, his grip on your hand a bit tighter than usual and his stare burning holes into you. 

You know what he’s demanding without him even needing to say it. You close your eyes for a moment as you slowly breathe in, and then out. You’re visibly calmer now, as he wanted, and he slowly releases your hand.

Shiori and a few other butlers trail behind as you follow Illumi towards the mansion’s front entrance. You swallow hard yet again as butlers open the door, mentally preparing yourself to see bodies hanging from the ceiling and blood splattered all over the place. 

You don’t.

The interior was comfortingly warm and quite nice if you ignored the assortment of weapons and odd, hopefully animal, skulls on the wall. It’s unsettlingly devoid of people as you walk through the mansion, you would’ve expected at least a few house butlers roaming about. You hear hushed muttering and whispering as you approach the main dining room, your dread immediately flares once again as you follow Illumi inside.

They’re all staring at you. They’re all judging you. 

You hold your breath briefly to keep your facial expression mellow, but you feel like you’re being watched by a pride of bloodthirsty lions. Their eyes follow you and you alone, causing you to try to hide behind Illumi. You’re unsuccessful as he moves himself out of the way. You don’t look at them, you can’t bring yourself to. It takes all your willpower to keep yourself steady as your knees threaten to buckle under their watchful eyes.

“This is insane…” a boy, who you assume to be Millluki, whispers to his grandfather, eyes still looking at you. He probably didn’t mean to be so loud, but how could you not hear him in this unbearable silence?

Zeno ignores him, but Silva shoots him an icy glare in response, causing the boy to stiffen and correct his posture in his seat. Silva then turns his attention back to you, but your eyes have a magnetic relationship with the table as you approach it, sitting directly across from him after Illumi pulls the chair out for you. 

You keep your gaze lowered as Illumi sits to your left, an empty seat to your right. You can feel his father’s intense gaze on you, as you do everyone’s, and you fiddle your shaking hands underneath the table in a hopeless effort to soothe yourself. You can see who you thought to be Kikyo on Silva’s right, and Zeno on Silva’s left; both brothers on either end of the table. 

You wonder who this empty seat was for if Killua was the only one missing. 

“This is (Name).” Illumi finally states after allowing the silence to linger for an unnecessary amount of time. His demeanor is slightly off despite his nonchalance. 

You’re freezing all of a sudden, you can’t decipher if it’s because someone decided to turn the AC on max or because Illumi was radiating energy. Considering you can only feel it coming from your left side, you conclude it was Illumi.  Illumi doesn’t say anything further and you’re not daring enough to add to his introduction, not that you wanted to anyway. 

“So Illumi, this is your… partner?” Kikyo asks, her tone rather uncertain and her demeanor ungracious. She didn’t like you, that much evident in her body language and how she kept her lips pursed when she watched your timid form enter the dining room. Even without knowing you personally, Kikyo thought you were a bad influence; you do not belong here.

“Yeah.” Illumi confirms, once again not adding any details. 

“Are… they an assassin too?” Kikyo inquires further. You can see that she’s gripping the edge of the table, her long nails digging into the expensive marble. 

“No.” Illumi responds.

Kikyo grits her teeth before swiftly correcting herself, her expression returning to one of slight vexation. “A hunter of some sort?”

Illumi replies, “Nope.”

“A nen user?! Anything achievable?!” she was grasping for anything that would prove you had at the very minimum some kind of honor.

“No. They don’t do anything at all.”

You’re not the melancholic type, but sometimes you wish you weren’t born — times like now. Kikyo’s shocked, as is everyone else, though internally, and she covers her mouth with her hands. In her mind, Illumi had just confirmed her biggest worries: you were nothing but a burden and an obstacle in his career as an assassin. 

You rub your knees together. You feel awkward. You shouldn’t be here. The tension is suffocating, but you feel as though the negative energy is directed at Illumi now. 

“So… they’re useless?!” she brings her hands down, almost slamming them onto the table. No one reacts to her offensive comment. Normally, Kikyo would’ve had better etiquette when hosting for a guest important enough to be invited inside the Zoldyck mansion, but you didn’t deserve that. You were just some person.

Illumi especially does not react, only casually sipping his wine as his mother begins to berate you. You awkwardly shift in your seat as the insults fly, trying your best to keep your expression neutral like everyone else’s. 

“How DARE you bring someone so inadequate into this household?! Just what were you thinking, Illumi?!” she yells.

You really wish you’d kept your mouth shut the other day.

Not in the mood to hear Kikyo’s whining, Zeno speaks up, “There’s no need for that. I’m sure Illumi has his reasons, we mustn’t judge.” his voice was nonchalant, almost teasing as he spoke. 

Kikyo sneers, clearly not taking too kindly to Zeno’s comment. “You know as well as I do that there is no reason to have someone so useless in the family! We mustn’t encourage this!”

“Kikyo.” Silva’s deep voice booms throughout the room, causing you to sink into your seat. He had turned his head slightly to look at his wife, the action causing her to fall silent while gritting her teeth once again. He turns back to you and you courageously meet his gaze. He’s scaring the absolute shit out of you, but you can’t bring yourself to look away as you continue to cower before him. You’re a feeble little thing, aren’t you?

Silva won’t judge though, not externally at least. “Father’s right, we mustn’t judge Illumi.” he forces a softer expression as he holds his hands out in an almost welcoming gesture. “Welcome to the family, (Name).”

You were officially a Zoldyck now.

You merely nod your head in response, a repressed frown on your face. Silva then crosses his arms, attention turned toward Illumi. “I’m surprised they’ve survived for this long.” he closes his eyes and lets out a small chuckle. “They’re in one piece too. You must be really serious about this.”

“I suppose so.” Illumi, who had been silent the entire time his mother spoke negatively of you, nodded in agreement, ignoring his father’s implied incredulity in his ability to keep you safe. He couldn’t blame him, however, as you’ve had several encounters with him and still managed to live another day. You seemed to have a knack for getting out of certain death situations, causing Silva to realize just how strong of a hold you had on his son’s heart. 

“Woah,” Milluki chimes in, his fingers rubbing his chin in curiosity as his eyes rake over you a little too much, “I never would’ve expected anything like this from someone like you, Illu. What’s so special about them anyway?”

Illumi’s reply came swiftly, “I don’t know.” 

The tension is oppressive once again. When’s the food coming so you can eat and get out of here? 

Illumi’s words were immensely shocking. They believed that someone as distant as him would have some sort of grand reason for wanting to pair up with you. Instead, it sounded like it was a whim that occurred to him with no ulterior motive in mind. They didn’t understand him, you didn’t understand him, and he didn’t understand himself.

Illumi continues, “I saw something in them and I’ve been trying to figure out what it was. My efforts were in vain though, so I accepted the fact that I simply would never know.”

Your eyes drift downward again as they all look at you. It was like they were trying to solve the puzzle themselves based on your appearance alone. 

“You don’t know?” Kikyo, as expected, was the first to verbally react. “You don’t know?!” she repeats, her voice a bit louder. “What do you mean you don’t know?! Either you have a valid reason or you’re just wasting your time!” she huffs as she glares at you.

Her presence feels overwhelming, she must be releasing aura. It does not compare to the aura Illumi is releasing, though. 

“This… person… is nothing but a nuisance.” her tone is sharp as she continues speaking. 

Illumi nods. “They can be troublesome at times, I’ll agree with you there.”

You can’t tell whether you should be surprised or not at Illumi’s unwillingness to stick up for you. You prefer not to be as that would mean you’d have to recognize him as someone who’s supposed to fight for you. He’s not your savior in your eyes, and he never will be. 

“Troublesome…” Kikyo repeats, her voice laced with malice. She scowls deeply as she prepares to rant again, but the butlers distract her as they place tonight’s dinner on the table. Your internal prayers have finally been answered.

You feel slightly relaxed as everyone is now distracted by the lavish meal before them, but you’re still slightly shaking. You keep your hand bearing the ring under the table and use your other to pick up a fork — or try to as the fork seems to be glued to the table. You look at it confused, then briefly glance at Illumi. He returns the glance, but to a butler who quickly moves to replace your fifty-pound fork with a fork of normal weight. You were able to lift this one with ease and you slowly began to eat. 

You don’t turn to look at Kikyo as she scoffs. “See? Weak.” she slowly shakes her head.

Illumi doesn’t acknowledge her, but Zeno does. “Now now Kikyo, that's enough. Shouldn’t we try to be more welcoming to our new family member instead of criticizing their every move?” 

Kikyo huffs, her head turning away from you. She didn’t know what to say or think anymore. No one ever seemed to consider her perspective, no one seemed to understand how dire this was. She can’t even stand the sight of you right now, especially with you right next to her son. 

She takes a deep breath. “I just don’t think they’re good enough for Illumi. That’s all.” her voice feigns a sense of calmness. 

You didn’t take as much offense to her comments as you should considering you don’t want to be with Illumi either. You simply ignore her and continue eating.

“Illumi, how did you two meet?” Silva suddenly asks.

You nearly choke as you swallow. You keep your eyes glued to your plate, your teeth holding your tongue in place as you prepare yourself for Illumi’s answer. You know Illumi won’t lie about this, and you know things would only get more awkward when he proudly announces that he stalked and kidnapped you. 

Illumi slowly sips his wine, making direct eye contact with his father. He sets the glass down, taking his sweet time before he replies, “I saw them while I was out on a mission. I visited them frequently after that and our relationship grew from there.”

You were right, he did not lie. 

He had skewed the truth, making it seem as if you two had bumped into each other and hit it off rather than him stalking you and breaking into your house. However, Silva wasn’t dumb; he knew Illumi was misleading based on your subtle body language alone. You weren’t just afraid of them, you were afraid of Illumi as well.

“I see. That’s certainly interesting.” Silva feigned ignorance nonetheless. “I’m sure you make them very happy.”

“I try to.” Illumi states flatly. At least he was acknowledging you weren’t happy with him, but knowing him, he probably blames you for it rather than his own actions. 

You visibly cringe, but quickly correct yourself. Everyone already caught onto it though, so there was no point in trying to hide it. 

“Congratulations to the both of you.” Silva states, eyes glancing at you for the final time before the subject changes to an assassin-related topic.

You stay quiet as almost everyone ignores you, seeming like they have lost interest in the stranger in their home. That was fine by you as you were no longer in the spotlight. 

Illumi pulls your chair out as dinner concludes and you all head towards the living room. You can feel Milluki staring you down as you walk in front of him, but you refrain from complaining as you remind yourself that Illumi is not your savior. You enter the living room, noticing Shiori standing formally in the corner. Illumi looks at her, causing her to nod and walk over to you.

“Master (Name),” she says, “it is time for us to go. Please follow me.”

You’re confused as you thought you’d have to stay for much longer but follow Shiori nonetheless, assuming Illumi had decided to cut things short. You’re forever grateful as Shiori guides you out of the mansion, not even questioning the fact that Illumi was staying behind. No one says their goodbyes to you, not even Illumi, as they all silently watch you leave. 

Milluki chuckles once you’re out of earshot. “You get a pretty good idea as to why Ilu chose them once you see them from behind!”

He continues giggling to himself, but his smile instantly vanishes when a loud snapping sound rings throughout the room. His face twists into one of great affliction as he clutches his freshly broken arm. 

“What the hell, Illumi?! I was only joking!” he shouts, annoyed more than anything. 

Illumi simply stares at him, expression neutral but clearly threatening. Milluki steps back and grits his teeth, muttering insults under his breath as he turns to leave. The act of brutality takes no one aback, Kikyo disregards it as she makes her thoughts and feelings known to Illumi. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Illumi.” she states calmly, her hands tightly gripping her fan. Kalluto, who hadn’t spoken a single word throughout the entire ordeal, looks up at Illumi curiously. 

“I know.” Illumi simply replies.

Illumi’s nonchalance only serves to further provoke Kikyo. “Have you no honor for your family?!” she yells, glaring at Illumi. “Do you not care about how much you’re holding yourself back by wasting your time with that weak person?!”

“I’m not holding myself back, I’ll be fine.” Illumi casually crosses his arms.

Zeno soon parted after confirming there was nothing more to do, leaving only Silva, Kikyo, Illumi, and Kalluto in the living room. Kikyo was at a loss for words and she turned to Silva, expecting some kind of backup. Silva, however, continues to silently stare out of the window, watching the limo as it takes you away. 

You’re exhausted. You’ve never been exposed to Illumi’s aura for such a long period and you feel like you’re about to pass out. Huh, maybe that’s why Illumi decided to end things early. 

“I see that you look fatigued, Master (Name),” Shiori says as the limo begins the long drive back to the hotel, “I trust the dinner with the family went well.”

“Went well?!” you nearly shout despite your tired state, “I was insulted and stared at for the vast majority of it! Not to mention the overwhelming tension in the room, it was horrible!”

“While I understand the experience may have been unpleasant for you, it is important to note that no physical harm occurred to you. In that sense, the dinner went well.”

You let out a deep breath. “You’re just like Illumi sometimes, you know that?”

“I appreciate your observation.” Shiori responds, not sensing your mocking tone.

“That’s not a good thing.”

“It is understandable that you may not perceive our similar mindsets as a positive attribute.”

You merely groan and shut your eyes, resting your head against the door. Once you reach the hotel, Shiori escorts you inside. She ensures you’re set for the night before saying her farewells, leaving you alone in the suite. 

You would scream if you weren’t so tired right now. Instead, you change into your silk sleepwear and throw yourself into bed. It’s over with; you’re relieved. You turn on your side, hugging a pillow as you try to drift off to sleep. You hope this date ends soon.

Something was touching you. 

You’re a bit groggy as you stir, quickly realizing your movements were partially restricted. “Illumi?” you call out into the darkness.

“Did I wake you? Good.” he answers, voice uncomfortably close to your ear. You jump from the sudden closeness, causing him to tighten his grip briefly. After a moment, he audibly sighs; an uncommon sound from him. “You were rather brave during dinner tonight.” he spoke with his usual monotone voice, though it had a hint of exhaustion to it. 

“I didn’t do anything.” you say, shifting in his arms as you try to get comfortable once again.

“That’s the point. You didn’t pass out.”

“You were overwhelming me.” you complain as you think back to how ungodly cold and uncomfortable you were sitting next to him. The whole time leading up to the dinner, you thought his family was going to be the biggest threat to you. Illumi proved you wrong though, he was the biggest threat to you.

“You caught on quickly, I’m glad.” he pauses for a moment before continuing, “My mother scolded me when you left, saying you were weak and a waste of time. You shouldn’t worry about her, she won’t hurt you. None of them will.”

None of them except him.

You’re quiet as you think back to all of the things she’s said. You don’t feel any type of way about her comments, they were true after all. “Your mother is right, Illumi. You should listen to her.” you say, your gaslighting attempt made apparent.

“I know she is. It was my choice though, and I don’t regret it.”

He continues rambling about the discussion he had with both of his parents after your departure, but you don’t listen as you glance at the clock. It was two in the morning. Typical of him to wake you up at this hour to express his feelings, except this time he was allowing you to fall back asleep.

.

Day 5

.

Illumi was acting strange — stranger in a way you were used to at least. That much was apparent when you woke up to him standing next to the bed and staring at you, his hand gently caressing your cheek. This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve woken up to him doing this though this instance felt much, much different. 

“Wake up, (Name).” Illumi commands in a softer tone of voice. You’re groggy as he’s allowed you to wake up in your own time these last few days. He begins gently poking your cheek, the pokes becoming more firm the longer it took for you to rise. “Today will be exciting. Get up.”

You yawn as you begrudgingly sit up, moving around Illumi to get off the bed as he didn’t think it was necessary to step out of your way. As you’re completing your morning routine, you are harshly reminded of Illumi’s proof of ownership on your finger, the jewelry twinkling in the light as if signaling you to its presence. You consider ripping it off and flushing it down the toilet, but as much as you wish to, you know better. By the time you walked out of the bathroom, Illumi was sitting up in bed, sleepwear still on. 

You scratch your head in confusion. “Why did you wake me up if you’re just going to hop back into bed?” you ask in an almost annoyed tone.

Illumi turns his head slightly in your direction, expression eerily innocent. “Breakfast is on the way, that’s why. Come back to bed.” when you fail to make any move, Illumi’s head slowly turns even more, his stare silently commanding you to obey. 

You tilt your head a bit before reluctantly moving to slide back into bed. You pull the blankets onto you and turn away from Illumi. 

“Don’t fall asleep.” he directs. He shifts, supposedly turning to face you. Your assumptions are confirmed when he turns you over onto your back. “We can talk while we wait if you need something to keep you up. How was your sleep last night?” his tone was still flat and boring despite returning to its softer version, only making you want to fall asleep even more. 

You respond nonetheless, “It was restrictive.”

As expected, Illumi is not a very good cuddle buddy. It’s like he’s trying to prevent you from escaping rather than lovingly holding you. You can’t wait to return to the estate. Not because you want to be there, but because you would have your solidarity again and not have to deal with Illumi’s overbearing nature.

“Restrictive? How so?” Illumi asked. He had moved a bit too close to you.

“I’d like to be able to move around and position myself properly at night.”

“Hm. I see.” Illumi leans forward slightly, invading your space even more. “If you’re sore, that’s a good thing. It will make our trip to the spa all the more special.”

You don’t respond as you focus your attention on the blank TV ahead. A massage does sound nice right about now. You rub your shoulder, you definitely slept on it wrong thanks to Illumi.

“It’s only polite to ask about my night’s sleep, (Name).” Illumi continues.

Humoring him for the sake of getting him to shut up, you respond, “How did you sleep?” 

He replies quickly, “I didn’t sleep.”

You gesture your hands in confusion, shaking your head. “Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?” Illumi tilts his head slowly, eyes boring into you.

“Have me ask you a question you don’t have a response to.”

He slowly straightens himself, but his expression remains unreadable. “Because I want to talk.” 

You cover your face with your hands, irritated Illumi had woken you just to have this stupid little back and forth with you. You had rolled back onto your side and before Illumi could turn you over once more, a knock could be heard at the door. You let out a deep breath, relieved as your prayers have been answered. 

Your eyes trail Illumi as he answers the door and brings in a service trolley. You’re sitting up now as he unfolds a mini bed tray and places it over you. You dramatically sigh when he sets a singular plate of food on the tray before sliding onto his side of the bed, the only fork available being held in his hand. 

“Must you do this every morning?” you ask, leaning away from him as he is sitting far too close to you.

“I could’ve done this every morning, but I didn’t. You’re only making up for yesterday.” the softness in his voice was long gone though he wasn’t upset — not enough to show it at least.

You ponder why he was so insistent on feeding you despite already having a good idea as to the answer. He probably thought it was a romantic gesture, which it is, but only with an actual lover rather than an erotomanic, crazed assassin. You can’t stand the way he stares so intently at you, especially at your lips, when he feeds you. You’re quick to turn your head away after each bite, quickly chewing and nearly swallowing the bites whole in an attempt to speed up the process. Illumi, however, takes his time, the sections of food on the fork getting smaller and smaller the more you rush. 

You watch as Illumi moves at a deliberately slow speed as he scoops up the last piece of food. He then grabs your chin firmly as he feeds you the last bite, his hold preventing you from turning away. You shut your eyes, swallowing the piece whole as you just wanted to be done with this. He doesn’t let go right away, however, his touch lingers for moments longer before he finally releases you. 

“You should get ready.” he says as he sets the fork on the empty plate. “You can get your clothes out of the wardrobe.”

You’re quick to move, your uneasiness being relieved now that there is some space between the two of you. You don’t even think about how he’s allowed you into the wardrobe for the first and only time throughout the entire duration of this so-called “romantic” date. You take your time as you look at all the options, Illumi cleaning up and pushing the service trolley out into the hallway. 

You change in the bathroom after finding a combination you like, Illumi is dressed as well by the time you come out. Your hands are in your pockets as you approach him by the door, not wanting your bodily autonomy ripped away even more by giving him the idea to hold your hand. 

He makes no move thankfully, and quietly leads you out of the hotel and into the Mercedes truck. 

Music was playing; you don’t know whether that’s good or bad anymore as any mood Illumi was in deemed to be bad for you. He’s speeding too, he seemed to be eager to get to his destination. Your grip on your seatbelt relaxes as he pulls into the spa’s parking lot. You take a second to collect yourself after experiencing Illumi’s reckless driving, sighing as he helps you out of the truck and leads you into the building. 

You don’t notice Shiori standing formally in front of the reception desk immediately upon entering, your attention focused on the beautifully decorated interior. Though it wasn’t anything super fancy, the simplicity and interior design still managed to captivate you.

“Good morning, Master Illumi and Master (Name).” your attention snaps to her and she bows her head. You nod in acknowledgment but Illumi doesn’t respond, he rudely walks off as Shiori continues speaking, “Master (Name), it is my pleasure to be able to serve you today. Please follow me to the changing room.”

You do so without question, eyes still looking around as you take in the calm atmosphere. Peaceful ambient music plays throughout the spa, you can already feel yourself relaxing as you manage to forget about Illumi’s existence. Now sporting a fluffy white robe with matching slippers, you sit on a reclining chair.

Shiori, now gloveless, gently applies various creams and masks onto your face, even going so far as to put slices of cucumbers over your eyes. Her hands move skillfully as she then gives you both a manicure and a pedicure.

“It’s nice to see you so relaxed, Master (Name).” Shiori speaks softly as she finishes up. “I only hope for this trend to continue. Please follow me to the massage room.”

You rub your palms together as you follow her, relishing how soft your hands, feet, and face feel. Now it was time to get rid of this crick in your shoulder. The massage room was small, though it felt just right. A singular bed sat in the middle of the room, two chairs off to the side, and a small table with a beautiful succulent on it placed in the corner. Thin, white curtains covered the glass wall, but see-through enough to allow the right amount of light in.

You undo your robe and lay belly down on the bed, Shiori then places a white towel over your lower half. “The masseur will be with you shortly. Please enjoy yourself.” Shiori says, bowing her head before departing.

You shut your eyes as you hear the door click shut. Your mind wanders as the near fantasy-type music plays. You imagine yourself in a fairytale garden, a small smile creeping onto your face as you watch fairies flutter in the air. A sign of life returning to your eyes causing you to laugh as you skip around. A magical butterfly lands atop a flower bud, causing the bud to bloom and release the most pleasant of fragrances. You gently hold the freshly flowered plant, careful not to damage it in any way. 

You were truly at peace — or so you deluded yourself. 

The door clicks open, ruining your dreams of being in a magical, happy place and snapping you back to reality. You glance back, then return your attention forward as you are met with the person you didn’t want to see: Illumi. 

“Hello, (Name).” he greets. You really didn’t want to hear his voice right now.

“Are you getting a massage too?” you inquire, waiting for him to make his way over to the two seats pushed up against the wall. He doesn’t, he merely shuts the door and walks over to you.

“Giving.” he corrects. You try to sit up upon hearing this, but Illumi pushes you back down just as quickly. “Relax. I will be gentle.”

“Wait-” you try to protest, but his actions cut you off. 

His hands move skillfully, moving with a perfect combination of firmness and delicacy as he begins working on your shoulders, slowly massaging the pain away. You shiver under his touch, hands gripping the bed as he rolls over various knots. 

“You’re full of tension. It seems you’ve been holding it in for quite some time, haven’t you, (Name)? Let me help you release all of that.” he pinpoints the exact spot that needs the most attention and applies pressure, causing you to groan. “You’re very responsive. I wonder what other sounds I can get out of you.”

You’re too caught up in the intensity of the massage to fully grasp what he had just said. If you could see Illumi’s face right about now, you would immediately know what was on his mind. His expression was still blank to the ignorant, but someone more knowledgeable about his behaviors would be able to detect the hint of libidinousness within his eyes. His eyes were rounder as they had been nearly all morning whenever they were focused on you. His touch gradually becomes more sensual as they move across your back, nearly threatening to venture into forbidden regions before he was able to catch and compose himself, remembering there was a time and a place. 

“Perhaps I should give you more massages like this from now on.” he speaks, his voice low and almost sultry.

You did enjoy the massage, you won’t lie, but you also don’t want Illumi to get comfortable with putting you in positions like this. Nevertheless, you choose not to respond, thinking in the future you would probably give in if the need were strong enough. You’re quick to turn opposite of him as you put your robe back on, your adrenaline nearly fading once you are covered. 

He says nothing further as he escorts you out of the room and into the small sauna. You sit in the corner, your eyes closed as you pretend Illumi isn’t sitting directly in front of you and staring. You cross your hands in front of you, the warmth of the steam eliminating any remaining soreness within your body.

Your time at the spa comes to an end as you’re now dressed and back in the car with Illumi. You stare out the window, noticing but not reacting to how Illumi constantly glanced at you as he drove. 

“We’re going to the museum.” he says, eyes now back on the road where they should be.

“Cool.” your tone is dull.

Illumi kept his mouth shut for the remainder of the drive though it seemed as if he wanted to say something more, that much evident in his slight frown. 

When you reach the museum, Illumi is quick to begin his unusually talkative behavior as he walks around the empty museum with you in tow. Your hands remain in your pockets, mind not really there as he gives one-sentence explanations on the museum’s various torture devices in his signature flat tone. You follow him like a kid following their parents who are out shopping, annoyed, and wanting to go home. It’s almost nostalgic in a way. 

Illumi notices your demeanor, as much as he tries to ignore it in hopes you’d drop it, and stops in his tracks, looking down at you. “Are you tired? We can take a break at the cafe if you’d like.”

You merely nod in response and he leads you to the cafe. You take your seat at a small table, not hesitating to eat when you are served a warm drink along with a snack. Illumi continues his staring habit, head resting in his hands as he observes you.

You’ve eaten your snack and are now focused on finishing your drink. You slowly sip the now lukewarm beverage, eyes focused on anything other than the man sitting across from you. 

“Feeling better now?” Illumi inquires.

You ignore his novel concern for you in favor of asking your own question, “When are we leaving?”

Illumi sits up. “Eager, are we? That’s good. The next activity would have to wait until later, though. We still have more time to spend here.”

“I meant when are we going back to Kukuroo Mountain?” you reiterate, setting your empty cup on the table.

You were, in fact, eager, but for a different reason than Illumi wanted. The day was moving too slowly for you, and Illumi’s presence was overwhelming even though he hasn’t released any aura since yesterday. You just wanted to be away from him and have time to relax and recharge. 

Though you hadn’t asked in a while, Illumi was fed up with your constant inquiries about returning to the mountain — also known as your way of rushing to end the date. Illumi was displeased, his eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re ungrateful. I’m trying to spoil you and all you’re concerned about is getting rid of me.”

“How so?” you ask, genuinely curious to see what kind of mental gymnastics Illumi went through to conclude that you were ungrateful.

“For starters, this entire date was designed to make you happy. I spent months planning and millions of yen buying all to ensure you’d enjoy it to the fullest. Even despite everything, despite considering your outlandish requests, you still remain unappreciative. What more do you want me to do?”

His response was exactly what you’d predicted. 

“Maybe let me go outside? Let me see my family again? Let me go entirely?” is what you would say if you were in a bolder, emotional state. Instead, you merely stare at him with an almost blank expression. 

Illumi’s voice grows cold. “You owe me something.”

“I’m sorry, Illumi.” you say flatly. You were always the one apologizing as Illumi is, of course,  never wrong about anything. 

Illumi calms himself, willing to forget your rude behavior in favor of ending the date on a good note. “Consider yourself fortunate, (Name), as I still wish for you to enjoy yourself. Who knows when you’ll be let out again, hm?” he pauses for a moment, allowing the silence to dramatize his previous words. He continues, “Let’s finish exploring the museum.”

And with that, Illumi rises out of his seat. You follow suit, both of you silent as you walk around the remainder of the museum. He didn’t bother with his one-sentence explanations anymore, not that you minded considering you weren’t listening to him anyway.

Eventually, the two of you leave, the car silent as Illumi drives. Despite the lack of music, Illumi wasn’t upset with you, but rather pensive. His attention continues to flicker over to you as he’d done earlier. For once, Illumi felt a ping of uneasiness. He was pleased with your compliance, sure, but he didn’t like your sudden unusual demeanor. You hadn’t asked a single question regarding the day’s activities like you had been doing in the past. 

After several minutes of silence, Illumi finally speaks, wanting to get you re-engaged. “The spa and the museum seemed to be to your taste, no?”

You rest your head against the door, still staring out the window. “Yeah.”

Illumi glances at you yet again, keeping his eyes off the road for even longer this time. “Good. As for our last activity, I have planned something unique.”

“Awesome.” your response was still short and dry. You didn’t fall for his attempt to prompt curiosity. 

Illumi frowns slightly as he listens to your incurious reply, his hold on the steering wheel temporarily tightening. “Your response lacks excitement and interest. It seems you couldn’t care less about what’s happening.”

“It’s not like you show enthusiasm either.” you say.

“I am very enthusiastic.” Illumi states unenthusiastically, his expression blank aside from his slight frown. “It’s overflowing.”

You merely hum in response which only furthers his discontent. Illumi, still insistent on keeping the mood light despite his annoyance, pushes his feelings aside. He remains quiet as he drives back to the hotel, his expression composed, though cold, and his eyes fixed on the road.

You thought he was being unusually emotional, he thought you were being dismissive. 

As Illumi helps you out of the truck for the final time, his grip on your hand remains firm. He leads you inside the hotel’s lobby, walking down a hall he’s never taken you before and into the grand ballroom. The ballroom was large, yet empty, with not a single person or piece of furniture in sight. The room felt liminal, the floor’s pattern the only thing giving it some personality. 

Illumi stands with you in the very middle of the room, attention focused on one of the far walls. “We are dancing.” he says, his voice slightly echoing in the room. 

You look around as if expecting a band or some sort of radio to magically appear. When it doesn’t, you turn to look back at Illumi. “In silence?”

Illumi slowly turns to face you, his demeanor off once again. His voice is low as he speaks, “No distractions, just us.”

His fingers intertwined with your own before pulling back, essentially pulling you into him. You’re caught off guard by the sudden contact despite mentally preparing yourself for it, especially with how slowly his other hand settles around your waist. Illumi then leans in, his head next to yours as he whispers into your ear, “Just follow my lead.”

The dance, if you could even call it that, goes exactly how you had expected — unpleasant — for you at least as Illumi was clearly enjoying himself. It felt like he was rubbing against you too much despite his gracefulness, performing moves that would optimize maximum contact with you. His actions became increasingly assertive as the dance went on, his grip on you tightened and the hand on your waist shifting lower and lower. 

His movements were surprisingly elegant, you never would’ve expected someone like Illumi to be this good at dancing. You tried to mirror him, the only music heard being your echoing footsteps and the ringing of complete silence. You’re unable to meet his strange and foreign gaze, the roundness of his pupils reminding you of some sort of alien. Maybe he was an alien, that would make a whole lot of sense. 

He’s almost melting into you like he was trying to merge both of your bodies, his touch gradually becoming more intimate and amorous. 

“Illumi.” you call out.

The hand on your waist returns to its original position, his grip slightly looser and a little space being allowed between the two of you. As his movements slow and the dance comes to an end, Illumi firmly holds you in place, almost hugging you. His head rests next to yours, his eyes closed as he savors this moment. 

He then pulls away, stepping back as he looks down at you with a near-amatory gaze. He says nothing, and neither do you, as his attention shifts towards the ballroom’s door before falling back on you. “It’s getting late.” his gentle hold on your shoulders slid down to your upper arm. “Let’s go to dinner.”

You slowly nod and walk with him as he makes his way to the hotel’s restaurant. You keep your gaze lowered as a butler serves your meal, Illumi lacking one of his own. His intense stare remains fixed upon you as you eat, his eyes never wavering from you, even when you make your nervousness clear. It was like he was trying to burn your image into his memory, every detail of your form being seared into his mind. 

He looked hungry which made the absence of food before him even more bizarre. 

“Aren’t you hungry? Why aren’t you eating?” you ask. You didn’t mean to express concern for him, just wanting to know why he was acting so strange.

Illumi shakes his head slightly. “I’m not hungry for food.”

His words left no room for misinterpretation yet you managed to be completely oblivious as to what Illumi was hinting at, your mind more focused on finishing your meal so you could escape his direct attention. 

“Enticing.” Illumi suddenly says in an almost whisper, more so speaking to himself than to you. “Tempting.”

You look up at him. “Huh?”

His words hang in the air, and his eyes widen slightly. He doesn’t respond further and his gaze manages to intensify. There are pieces of you that remain enigmatic to him and he craves to understand your intricacies. To understand you is to possess you, and he yearns to possess you completely.

He’s as still as a statue, his eyes as watchful as a camera. You can’t read his expression or decipher his mood, his lips pressed into a thin line as if unsure whether to hint at a smile or a frown. When was the last time he blinked? You can’t stand him. 

With your meal finally completed, the moment arrives for you to return to the suite. Illumi rises out of his seat gracefully, his hand extended as a silent invitation. You’re disinclined, but you take it nonetheless, eyes focused on the ground as he leads you out of the restaurant. Illumi’s expression returns to its usual calmness, though his quick pace and eager movements betray his facade. 

After entering the suite and locking the door behind him, Illumi hands you your pajamas, his hands moving in a way to ensure they touch yours. You don’t react, only locking yourself in the bathroom before you change clothes, tossing your dirty ones into the hamper. Your eyes trail to the ring on your finger yet again. You were vexed that the ring was so beautiful, so expensive, as its beauty was tainted by the story behind it. 

As you step out of the bathroom, you find Illumi changed and sitting up in bed. He’s, of course, staring at you, and the TV’s light softly illuminates the room. It was on a very low volume, however, rendering you unable to make out what was playing.

Your steps are slow and calculated as you make your way to your side of the bed, eyes glued to the TV as an excuse to ignore Illumi’s gaze. You made sure to leave a generous amount of space between the two of you but it didn’t matter as Illumi moved closer to you.

“You enjoyed yourself today. That’s good.” he said. It was more of a confirmation to reassure himself than a question in need of your input. He pauses for a minute, eyes focused on the near-silent TV. “We’ll be going back home tomorrow.”

Your heart flutters in excitement, but you keep yourself composed, eyes still focused on what the TV is showing you. “Is… this the only time you’ll do something like this?” you ask, a bit hesitant to ask your question as you didn’t want him to interpret it as you wanting to spend more time with him. 

Illumi contemplates your question, eyes still focused ahead of him. ”It would depend on your level of appreciation.” his answer was left intentionally vague as he didn’t want to commit to a single answer. 

“So you’ll do it again?” you glance at him. 

After a moment of deliberation, Illumi slowly turns to look at you, pupils now freakishly round. “I could be convinced.”

You look away from him, turning your attention to the TV for the final time. You then shift under the covers, turning onto your side and away from Illumi as you try to find a comfortable sleeping position.

Sitting up even more and scooting closer to you, Illumi removes the covers off of you and places a hand on your hip. “Don’t go to sleep just yet.” he calls out. “We still have some time to spend together.”

“I want to sleep.” you state, your eyes remaining closed as you try to ignore his touch. 

He ignores your declaration. “I want to talk,” he states quietly, voice carrying a hint of determination, “I have something I need to tell you.”

You feel his hand gently squeeze you, though you don’t react to it. “You’re free to talk.”

“Perfect.” his hold on your hip tightens as he flips you over onto your back, moving you in front of him and claiming his position between your legs. His face is perfectly shadowed yet perfectly illuminated as his eyes devour your figure beneath him. 

His hands move to hold your waist, the intensity in his eyes softening slightly as he speaks. “(Name).” he says, his tone displaying a sense of vulnerability and primal need. “I want you.”

You’re merely frozen in the submissive position he’s put you in, eyes wide in shock at his confession. You’ve stirred unfamiliar feelings within him, emotions new yet powerful enough to consume him.

He leans down closer to you, placing a hand right next to your head for support while the other remains on your waist. “You’ve been tormenting me all this time, teasing me yet averse to the idea of giving in to me.”

Your hands hesitate before moving and gently grabbing his wrists, your head turning to the side as a sign of shyness and embarrassment. His eyes soften in adoration, realizing his words' effects on you. 

“(Name).” he murmurs, savoring each syllable on his tongue as if it held the sweetness he strongly desired. “Give yourself to me.” his command lined with velvet, a gentle yet firm request for your willing submission.

“Illumi…” is all you say, unable to think of a coherent response after being put on the spot like this.

The hand on your waist moves to hold your jaw, tethering on the edge of gripping your throat, as he pulls you into a weirdly passionate kiss. He pulls you in closer as he deepens the kiss, his body further pressing into you, and his desires let loose, making themselves increasingly obvious to you. 

The weight of Illumi’s control oddly arousing as he made his dominance over you painfully clear, leaving no room for doubt or confusion. You tremble in shock from the kiss, causing him to quietly hum and fuel his desire.

He finally pulls away, eyes undoubtedly filled with lust as he looks down at the beauty before him. “Every part of you will bear the mark of my desire.” he whispers as he leans down toward your neck, hand now interlaced with your own as the other trails back down to hold your hip. “I’ll make it so that you never forget who you belong to.”

Shit.

Why didn’t you figure this out sooner?

[yuwuta]

WHEREVER YOU WANNA GO, THAT’S FINE WITH ME — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO 

cw mentioned/talks about death but not like… in a serious way 😭 this whole thing is very unserious and stupid it’s just a thought i couldn’t get out of my head, megumi being… megumi, f2l but what’s new, also inspired by some clip from a tv show i’ve seen on tt but idk the name of it, if you do pls let me know

you ask megumi you make one of those marriage pacts with you—that if neither of you are married by thirty-five, you two will get married to each other—and he just hums for a moment before asking, “do you think i’ll be better suited for marriage at thirty-five?”

“what? n—i don’t know? maybe? it just seems like an appropriate age to get married if you’re not already, that’s all,” you explain.

more humming. he blinks, “i don’t think i’ll be all that different at thirty-five.”

“well, that’s concerning,” you joke, “you’re supposed to change—grow a little bit as a person and all that, megumi. even you are capable of it.”

“i won’t want anything different out of a marriage at thirty-five than i would right now,” he corrects you, then turns to you, and with all seriousness demands, “so, state your stipulations. what do you want from me, let’s figure out of this is gonna work now.” 

you scoff, and cross your arms. “what do i want from you? that’s not how a marriage works.” 

“that’s how this friendship already works.” 

you say, megumi does; he pushes it than he should have, you say to stop, and eventually he does, and the cycle continues. he’s always stubborn, and sacrificing himself beyond necessity, and you’re always pulling his ear for it. 

“okay. fine,” you settle, straightening your posture, “i want a house. three bedrooms, so nobara and yuuji don’t have to bicker about sharing when they stay over.” 

megumi considers it, then counters with, “four. gojo needs a bedroom, too. one floor, i don’t like stairs.” 

“where the fuck are we going to find a one-level four-bedroom house? i don’t want to live in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere.” 

“we’ll find one,” he shrugs, doesn’t flinch when he promises: “or i’ll have one made for us. next: vacations.” 

“twice per year. somewhere tropical, and somewhere metropolitan.” 

“i don’t like the beach.” 

“then you don’t have to go on the beach.” 

“you’re responsible for me if i burn.” 

“i’m responsible for you either way, i’m your wife,” you taunt, “pets, next. i want dogs. two. maybe three. and a bunny.” 

“no bunnies, they’re too much work.”

“but i want a bunny, megumi.” 

“you won’t have time for a bunny,” he rolls his eyes, “and you’re gonna get pissed when it chews up the expensive couch you’re gonna make me buy, and takes a shit in the expensive fruit bowl you’re gonna con gojo out of. no bunnies.” 

you pout and frown, but megumi doesn’t budge: “no bunnies.” 

you sigh, “no bunnies, but i want the dogs.��� 

“i didn’t say no to the dogs. unless you want a golden, then i’m not raising that.” 

“why not? we already have yuuji.” 

“exactly, we already have yuuji.” 

“fine. i want a king sized bed. the really big, oversized ones you get in america.” 

“done. children?” 

“you want children?”

megumi shrugs, but you swear there’s a dust of pink on his cheeks, “maybe. maybe not. if i did, no more than two.” 

and suddenly you can’t help but feel heat in your own face, hot with the image of two tiny megumis running around. 

“that’s fine with me. maybe kids, but no more than two,” you cough, “i want one of those heated driveways for the house.”

“i’ll have it built. i’ll clean and do laundry and take out the trash if you cook.”

“what about days i don’t cook?”

“then i’ll do that, too,” megumi nods, “anything else?”

“yes. if i die first, you can remarry, but you visit my grave at least twice a year, and bring peonies. and that picture of me from prom where i look really good.” 

“no.” 

you stop. you blink. “what do you mean ‘no?’ you wouldn’t visit my grave?—kinda cruel considering i birthed your up-to-two future children and raised your dogs.” 

“i won’t remarry. and i don’t want you to if i die first,” he corrects you, again, “and there’s no dying first and leaving me behind, i’m going with you.”

he doesn’t leave room for debate in his declarations: won’t, don’t; not wouldn’t, shouldn’t, couldn’t—you have to pinch yourself to stop chasing the rabbit of temptation running through your mind. 

“i don’t… think you get to decide that,” you chuckle. 

“of course i do,” megumi grins, uncrosses his legs and leans over. he reaches a hand to the back of your head and pushes it forward until your foreheads meet gently; and as if the affection wasn’t shocking enough, he continues, “where you go, i go. that’s marriage, right?” 

he widens his smile a bit, before letting you go, leaning back into his seat again with crossed arms like nothing happened, and you’re left staring, blinking, breathing shallowly like prey that narrowly escaped being caught.

you don’t speak, so megumi does, “i have one more thing.” 

and slowly, you unthaw enough to let out a questioning hum. megumi tilts his head before telling you, “i want your last name.” 

“what? you—you would change your name?” you stutter, “but fushiguro is so pretty! and it’s your mom’s name, so few people get their mother’s names.” 

“yeah. this way, our up-to-two children get their mother’s names, too.” 

“i—okay… yeah, i guess they do,” you gape, then pout, “wait, what if i wanted to be mrs. fushiguro?” 

“tough luck,” he grins, “you get everything else.” 

you get me, instead, is what’s left unsaid. 

“okay, fine. sounds like a deal to me.” 

“great. we can’t have a spring wedding because gojo and toji will sneeze obnoxiously loudly, and we can’t have a summer wedding because the anniversary will conflict with our tropical vacation, and nobara will kill us if it’s too close to her birthday,” he says, standing up from the couch to head to the kitchen, “so i’ll see you at the courthouse in september.” 

you nod reflexively, sinking back into the couch with a satisfied smile. it’s a while before your brain processes his words, and when it finally does, you spring up in a fluster, “september? megumi, i said when when we’re thirty-five and if neither of us are already married! megumi? megumi fushiguro, come back here!” 

[thehistoriangirl]

If You Hadn't Left (Me) [Chapter 2]

I live!!!

Viktor x Fem! Reader-----2.1K----SFW

// M A S T E R L I S T

<- Previous Next ->

Synopsis:Viktor was never supposed to see you again, just like you had promised that evening when you both ended up heartbroken and bitter toward destiny and all its twisted ways. So twisted as to put you back into his life not only as a temporal working partner to cover Jayce’s absences, but also as the maid of honor in the wedding where he’ll be the best man. Hypothetically, it doesn’t have to be that difficult to find a way around the river of memories flowing between you both. Though, of course, hypotheses are flawed. Just like that part of him that still craves another ending to this story. 

Chapter Summary: People say things look better under a new light. But once you step inside Viktor's lab, Viktor discovers that the view isn't just striking, but also very troublesome.

Tags: Second Chance | Angst | Exes to Lovers | Denial of Feelings | Viktor's pinning | Reader is pissed | | Eventual Smut | Eventual Happy Ending |

Taglist: @ihopeinevergetsoberr @syren201 @slycazzz @jourlinemaktan @seraceres @m1dnight-artisan

Viktor was no stranger to sleepless nights.

Most of them could be excused by incessant workload lined up on his desk in the form of blueprints and pages filled with scribbles of ink where equations hadn’t resolved in a positive way.

It wasn’t about rushing thoughts of the future looming over his shoulder either; the time when his conscience whispered that he couldn’t be good enough. That he’d never be, as progress is a fleeting, moody thing.

What an unbreakable riddle were you. Your words haunted him; your kiss… soared his heart. Guiltily so; flown at the past he promised couldn’t revisit. And not only because digging out the tender flesh already buried would mean expose the wound again, risking of bleeding out.

I want to be the Interior Design’ Teacher at the Architecture Faculty.

He laid in his bed, covers barely thrown open, his mind filled with the million possibilities about the future, once hopeful and bright with all the new inventions he could create with Hextech, to the one where he had to walk carefully across campus to not take a glimpse of you passing by.

Get over it, get over it.

He wished it’d be so easy. Guilt gnawed at him, now already broken free from the depths of the drawer where he kept your photo. The ring he never gave you, that he’d been fool enough not to return. A treacherous mind he had, repeating old routines as his personal condemn.

Sighing, he incorporated at the edge of the bed. Pitch darkness looked back from every corner of the quiet room. His fingers grabbed the handle of his crutch, the familiar leather creaked under his unrelenting grasp once he hauled himself up.

He should have left right away, as he did when the strain in his muscles didn’t allow him any rest. But something stopped him.

His reflection in the mirror showed what he most tried to hide. Deep eyebags, messy hair, wrinkly clothes.

Viktor didn’t wish to give you reasons as to think he was so unkept because of you. Because he wasn’t—it was only a bad night sleep. Not the first and either the last.

Groaning, he took the dubious decision to bathe in the middle of the night. Seeking the refuge of the cold water to calm the cascade of thoughts sieging him. It was like any other day back at the Academy, when he was Heimerdinger’s assistant. Time had gone backwards.

Replaced rolled up dress-shirt’s sleeves with proper cufflinks. His creamy vest now gray with ash and oil stains replaced by a clean one, just as his pants. Untamed hair controlled with luck.

The way back to the lab was calmer at night, with only the cold hitting his face during his journey up the hill. Empty boulevards whose metallic details shone silver against a crescent moon in a clear, starry sky.

He wondered, for a moment where his mind forgot to close the floodgate, if the sky looked the same in the place you had being for the last decade. That—if the tawdriness of those novelists wasn’t tricking him—the moon had watched you built who you were now.

He couldn’t stop the stab of jealousy that coursed through his bones.

The walk cut short after that, dipping his face to the ground until the had to look up toward the guards appointed at the entrance of the research building. A simple nod. At least he didn’t have to break in again, though he thanked those days where lies had flown out his tongue so easily.

Viktor presaged he would need the practice.

*~*~*~*~*~*

At first, he heard the echo of your heels against the desolate hallway.

The familiar whirring mechanism of the door that both Jayce and him had forgotten to oil up.

Then, he must fill the uncomfortable feeling that the lab was shrunk up.

“You’re late.” As an answer, you put a cup of steaming coffee at his left, right where there weren’t any papers that could be stained. “…thank you.”

Finally, he saw you.

A loose, airy blouse and a fancy skirt that hugged your legs up your knees. Perfect for a space this enclosed where the heat of the machine motors warmed it up by noon.

“You can’t wear that,” he stated, meeting your frown with his own. “Where’s your safety equipment?”

“Where’s yours?” you said back, crossing your arms in signal of victory when Viktor got out of excuses.

“I have deep understanding of safety measures in a space such as this, whereas you do not.”

“What? Do you think I’m going to lay on the desk while you tinker with a machine?” You huffed. “Have more faith in me, Viktor.”

You shouldn’t say his name so nonchalantly, especially when Viktor could never mask his reactions to your keen eyes.

“I’m going to attempt to fix this faulty prototype, so you’ll have to wear at least a lab coat if you want to enter the lab.”

“Really now?”

Grunting, Viktor stood up toward the closet at the far left of the room, grabbing two of his coats—because you wouldn’t let him alone if he didn’t abide by his own rules. “Take this one,” he said, throwing you one with his free hand, plopping in the stool back again.

“Don’t you have a smaller one?” He saw you, with the grey clothes almost serving as a robe. One of the sleeves was burned, with a hole the size of the Hexclaw’s laser.

“It’s the only one we have here,” Viktor lied. Well, only a half-truth. Jayce’s clothes wouldn’t fit you, and Sky kept them locked inside her workstation in the annex room.

“Something more I need to wear? Or can you signal me Jayce’s drawing table?” You said instead, leaving your bag at one corner of the hexagonal forge in the middle of the room. Right next to Viktor’s bag where he had shoved the jacket he wore to come here at the dead of night.

“It’s the only one next to the chalkboard.” They shared worktable for all the times Jayce was pondering about designs while Viktor looked at the sketches to make modifications. He had all night to clean it, stacking the papers in Jayce’s desk that wouldn’t be used in a while so you didn’t have another reason to criticize him. “You can use the chalkboard if you want.”

“It’s alright. I’m only drafting planes with the sizes they provided.” You voice sounded absent, muffled once you crouched to lift your map case, getting out your usual tools of mediation, escalimeter, and set squares. The gigantic T ruler, slid smoothly over the worn-out wood. Every movement seemed so easy to emulate, the way your fingers flew across the surface to set the plan in front of you, getting out all kind of pencils that for Viktor looked all the same.

“Do you need something?” Your voice tore him away whatever place his mind was wandering.

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

He blinked, using his left leg to turn the stool around. “Of course I wasn’t,” he snapped, followed by the sound of your unamused hum.

After all, you promised to maintain peace, and so you did during the excruciatingly long morning.

Viktor had his back sore from being hunched down toward a pile of scribbles that made no sense; unconclusive theories and half-done equations. Yet he didn’t dare to look away the paper in front of him, no matter how much his eyes blurred and his muscles ached. He could hear the friction of the pencil against paper, the eraser’s circular motions and the soft blow coming from your lips.

Years ago, all you had was the familiar table at the third story of the library. Next a window so you both tracked the time by the change of light. He still remembered the hues over your hair, like a kaleidoscope. By the time darkness had arrived, he was tugging at your hand over the table to wake you up.

Since when reminiscences sieged him? It was so usual for Piltover to always look toward the future that attempt to look back would endanger one into tripping and being left behind. This felt wrong, stuck in a past that no longer mattered.

You were only classmates, after all.

“This is the design.” Over his numb hands, the paper of your plan was sturdy and rough to stop the abrasion of the eraser from making a hole in it. He was thankful for the hiding spot once he felt his right hand twitch by instinct, just awoken by the familiar, now fancier, milk and lavender scent of your hair.

His eyes swept over the drawing; thin, delicate lines showed a slick tower mirroring that of the Hexgates, curved and unbalanced in an amorph geometrical pattern. Behind it was the complement, so at the distance it would look like one.

He observed you. Dangerously close. You had changed, blooming even prettier with age. Contemplative eyes used to take every detail in, new marks of wrinkles of your smiles and beams. Yet the same lips and cheeks he loved to caress.

You arched your eyebrows. “So?”

You’re precious. “I don’t favor any of these design in particular.” He shrugged, trying to get off the weight of your attention. “They’re not my taste.”

“Then you have terrible taste.”

Oh, truly? You wanted to pick a fight? He had some time to spare, then.

“Alright. Do you want an honest opinion?” Viktor sighed, as if he were exhausted by this conversation and not having his heart working overtime. “They’re ugly.”

You smiled at him; an ironic grin but a smile after all. “Thank you. I won first place in the contest with this one.”

Viktor extended a hand toward you, fingers pointing in an accusing manner. “Now you see? You can’t handle constructive criticism—”

“What constructive criticism?“  you hissed, but he ignored it. Taking a deep breath, you plastered a kind smile on your face that almost made him chuckle. “Why are they ugly?”

Viktor hummed. “Severe. Pretentious.”

“You don’t really recognize who the clients are, do you?”

“I know who are the clients, which is why I’m saying it.” He reclined in his seat. “This aren’t how your designs usually are.” It wasn’t a question, as shameful as it may feel, with his cheeks burning and eyes averting, he remembered the vision you once shared.

You retreated one step, a futile attempt at building a fort.

“You don’t know my designs,” you said, your tone cutting like a knife’s. “Not anymore.” You were already walking toward your bag, and Viktor cursed in a hushed breath. This wasn’t what peace supposed to be.

You loved curves and simpler facades, towers with gigantic windows so the residents inside could feel they touched the sky, small houses to hide a precious treasure in the form of a cozy living room to cuddle in a cold winter.

“Wait—” he called your name, and it sounded so wrong. Tasted bitterly when once had been the sweetest.

“What?!” you snapped. “Just give it to Jayce so he can show it to the Council. Roll it if you don’t want to see it.”

Viktor stood up. “You’re trying to pick a fight.” And he understood. You left without the chance to free all that built up inside of you the moment you got apart, and time had only harvested that sadness into pure wraith.

You huffed. “I don’t even know why I bother to ask your opinion.” You signaled the whole lab. “Do you want to know why you never won any Inventor’s Contest in your time as student? Because your designs were ugly.”

Viktor frowned. “Now who’s bringing the past? My prototypes worked perfectly—more of what I can say to the many winners whose inventions never saw the light of day outside the award.”

“Functionality and aesthetics must be interwoven, Viktor.” You felt as if teaching a stubborn child. “This is what I’m referring to when I say you have bad taste.”

“I would love to differ,” he said, his mind clouded by irritation, nervousness, and the ever-present reminders of another life. “How would you accuse me of having horrid taste when I dated you once?”

The silence hung heavy and charged between the two. You looked as if he had hit you with his cane, and he didn’t feel any better.

What have you just done?

“You’re impossible,” you just said with a tired sigh. Turning your back toward him and almost running out the door.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part One: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you so much it hurts, he just really wants to make sure your silly little girl brain doesn’t get in the way of your safety, you have a cat, Anakin is a bartender [diary entries from Ani’s perspective] MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: May 2nd

The Cerulean was filled with loud music, flashing lights, and the stench of sweaty guys and spilt beer. Over-kill perfume on the girls who so desperately wanted my attention, writing their numbers on their drink coasters after finishing their stupid little cocktail. The occasional ‘break it up guys, c’mon’ yelled out at a pair of ‘roided up college boys. Peanut shells stuck to my sneakers at the end of the night, going home and washing off the stickiness from working behind the bar.

All things I was used to.

But you… not you. Every time I caught a glimpse of you tonight it was like the first time all over again.

Pink, skirt, sneakers, crop top. Such a cute little outfit; it made you easy to spot, easy to track, easy to watch over.

I have your drink order memorized. I so hoped you’d come back for another so I could hear your voice, to see your pretty little lips move just for me again. But you didn’t. Because you’re a smart girl. You knew that without a man around to look out for you, you’d be pretty hopeless if you got too tipsy. It only made me want to protect you more. You’re too soft, too sweet, too innocent to worry about the big nasty world around you.

That’s my job now.

I’ll always keep you safe, but I also want to keep you happy. You deserve the world and more, and I’ll give it to you.

I’d destroy the earth to build it up again in your design. I’d live for you, serve you, die for you, at any moment you might ask. Just say the word and I will. I promise I will.

Note: Motion sensors

Date:

May 23rd

Anakin walked a safe distance behind you, his hands in his hoodie pocket, his hood up and head down. It was dark out, the only light was from the street lamps.

Sometimes when he walked you home he just wanted to run up and grab you by the shoulders and shake you; ask you to please for once just pay attention to your surroundings.

You walked around with your headphones in, ignoring everything and everyone. Yeah it was a straight shot to your apartment from the bar. Only having to cross the road once during the mile long journey down the sidewalk. But a mile was a good stretch of space and there were plenty of people who passed you. A handful of creepy, unlit alleyways you could be dragged into.

You were practically asking for it.

He just had to remind himself that this was just another reason you were so lucky to have him. He’d watch over you, so you didn’t have to worry your pretty little head about nothin’.

Anakin stood by the corner store dumpster and watched as you trotted up the steps and tapped the door code into the keypad of your apartment building. After the door shut behind you and he saw the keypad flash red, he knew you were safely locked inside.

It took approximately one minute and 14 seconds for you to jog up the steps to your door, depending on how tired you were he could add a few seconds and not worry. But anything over 20 seconds had him sweating in a panic.

Tonight though you were right on time, his phone pinged with an alert that your door had been opened, and successfully shut behind you. Now he could breathe a sigh of relief and make his way back to work.

His boss was kind enough to never question why he skipped out for about 20 minutes a night or two a week. Anakin smoked, it wasn’t unlikely to assume he just got a little distracted scrolling on his phone during his smoke break or maybe just needed a few minutes of peace.

Now all he had to do was suffer through three more hours of monotonous work and try not get a head start on his hearing loss from the shitty music.

Then he could go home to you.

The cloak of stress he wore when you were out of sight vanished quickly when he perched on the fire escape and peered into your living room. Poor thing. You’d fallen asleep on the couch again.

Not that he minded. It made his night that much better when he could sit closer to you. It was a pain to climb the ladder of the building next door and sit on the rooftop so he could see into your bedroom window. Very inconvenient, but worth it everytime.

He sat quietly, observing you and the way your lips twitched while you slept, as though you were having a conversation with someone in your dreams. Probably him, he thought.

“Oh, your blanket… you’re gonna be cold if you keep squirming around like that, your blanket is gonna end up in the floor.”

His fingers itched to pry open the window and tuck you back in, but he didn’t. He promised himself he wouldn’t do that. No breaking and entering.

He decided it was time to head back to his own home after that, he couldn’t stay much longer without: a) falling asleep b) forcing his way into your apartment for the sake of keeping you warm.

So he trekked to the sidewalk, wiping off the rust stains on his palms from the old metal fire escape. Shoving his hands back into his hoodie pocket after blowing you a goodnight kiss.

Diary Entry: June 6th

You owe me big time young lady.

You left your door unlocked and your window cracked open. It is 3:00am, what if someone snuck in? Then what would I do?

Die probably. I’d probably die if something happened to you.

Therefore, I bit the bullet and helped you out. I’m lucky you’re a heavy sleeper and I’m not easy to startle or else we both would’ve had a big scare tonight.

I cracked open your window, slipped in quietly, lowered it behind me, locked it. Double checked it and then triple checked it just in case.

When I turned around- christ that fucking cat. I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes. Guard dog? Who needs a guard dog when you’ve got that monster running around?

A quick blur of orange and a loud *reeeareow* was the only warning before it- sorry, Boogie, climbed up my leg with her little pitchfork claws. I handled it well, you’d be proud. I picked her up by the scruff and gave her a light bop on the noggin’ just like you do when she’s in trouble; except I didn’t kiss it better afterwards, I think she would’ve eaten me if I tried that.

Any-who, I carried her with me to the kitchen and got her a little treat from the cutesy kitten jar on the countertop. Then she decided we could be friends or well… maybe or maybe not I don’t really know, I guess we’ll see.

I plucked your spare key from the top of the fridge and quietly left your apartment. I locked the door and checked it several times, just in case.

As I walked down the steps I saw that the super was kind enough to leave a reminder that the keypad code had been changed, how nice of him! You are awfully forgetful sometimes. No worries princess I took a picture for safe keeping.

I need to change the batteries on or door sensors soon anyway, those little button batteries don’t last very long you know.

It was only when I got home that I realized I still had your spare key… tsk tsk Anakin. Ah well, that just means it won’t fall into the hands of someone it shouldn’t. I’ll keep it safe.

I love you 🖤

Diary Entry: June 7th

You know, come to think of it. Now that I have a key I should get a few new items for your apartment, that way I can keep an eye on things for you while you’re away.

Note: Hd1080p microcam x4

There will be a bot to go along with this series! This is really short compared to my usual posts: I just wanted to give all my little lovelies a snippet of what’s to come.

Part Two

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate @burnthecheshirewitch @exquisitcorpse @arzua10 @bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay @aliciaasky @naty-1001 @mrsmikaelsxn @bunnylovesani @ausskywalker @angelsadmired @slut4starwarssmut @chocolatepalacecloudhoagie @starkiller419 @hearts4mitski4 @lethargic @allhailbuckybarnes @shadowhuntyi @mortalheartache @fallinlovewithevil @sythethecarrot @chaoticantihero @vadersslut @luvvfromme @anakinsbaee @sweetcheesecakesblog @luvskywxlker @angelsadmired @kaminokatie @anakin-pilled @graveyard-stray @styleslytherin @chiaraanatra @jediavengers @zapernz @lunalitva @salted-snailz @queenofchaos99 @ellie-luvsfics @dazednstars141

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

[luvsupa]

GOODBYE, PRINCE GOJO.

tags: fem!reader x prince! gojo satoru, childhood enemies to almost lovers to enemies (☹️), smut, (fingering), gojo has no shame, ANGST, royalty, sad ending arranged marriage, forbidden love, kissing, mdni idk what to add..

w.c: 4.4k

a/n:FINAL PART 🥹🥹 tysm for everyone who supported me and my story! ALSO THANK U GUYS SM FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! IM BEYOND THANKFUL 💗+likes and reblogs are appreciated 🤍🤍

the next morning, unease settles over you as you touch up your makeup at your vanity desk, preparing for family breakfast. your entire life feels like it’s crumbling. you have only two days to choose your fate. strangely enough, you’ve grown comfortable around gojo again, but the fear of him tormenting you lingers.

but then there’s nanami.

he promised you a loving future. he’s charming and everything you want in a husband. yet, you can’t have both. society would never accept it; you’d be shunned if you tried.

choosing nanami means finally being freed from gojo, the twisted curse that has haunted you. but also being sent away could benefit you, offering no drama and pure freedom from him.

this is the only way you could truly be happy.

you grip your makeup brush tightly, feeling beyond conflicted. in a fit of frustration, you throw the brush and stand abruptly, nearly tipping your chair. this decision is tearing you apart. you don’t care about your appearance anymore as you exit your room and head to the breakfast room.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you hear distant chatter before arriving in the royal breakfast room. you greet the guards kindly as you enter, finding only your mother, gojo’s mother, and ayana seated around the long table. you expected more seats to be occupied, but many were empty.

the servants were bringing plates of fruits and vegetables to the table, along with freshly squeezed juices.

ayana notices you first, scoffing and turning away. you walk to the opposite side of ayana, catching gojo’s and your mother’s attention with your heels clacking against the wooden floor.

“oh, good morning, dear,” your mother says as you greet everyone respectfully. you sit directly in front of ayana, with your mother to your left at the table’s end.

“will ‘ruru be joining us, your majesty?” ayana asks annoyingly. the queen confirms his arrival. ayana looks at you with a hint of mischief, but you’re already weary of the torment you’ve endured.

just in time, you hear his laughter echo outside the breakfast room as he chats with the guards, thanking them for their hard work. ayana leans back in her seat, trying to see gojo through the doorway, biting her lip as she eyes him.

you feel a pang of jealousy at her reaction to him—oh.

i get why.

gojo walks in with his hair fluffy and damp, wearing a white button-up with the first few buttons undone, revealing a bit of his chest. you feel yourself start to salivate as his lotus tattoo peeks out.

holy fuck, he’s hot, you think.

“satoru, dear, must you always arrive in such untidiness?” his mother inquires with a touch of regal authority as he makes his way toward you. ayana’s jaw drops as he ignores her and takes the seat beside you.

you nearly moan out loud as you inhale his scent.

“presentable for whom?” he questions in a sassy tone.

“the royal authorities and ayana’s parents will be joining us,” the queen says as gojo rolls his eyes, clearly uninterested in anyone but you.

as you wait for the remaining guests to join, gojo keeps trying to hold your hand under the table. you keep shoving him away because your mother and ayana are watching you like hawks.

gojo knows they’re watching and doesn’t care—he wants them to see. as you push his hands away for the fifth time, the guards notify everyone that the rest of the guests have arrived.

you all line up to greet each person, feeling especially awkward when greeting ayana’s parents.

eventually, you return to your seats, still sitting in front of ayana and now her parents, as well as other royal authorities along the table, and beside gojo. great.

the maids kindly serve everyone plates of their desired breakfast. the room fills with the clatter of forks and knives scraping plates, and the soft chatter of the queen and royal authorities. as you enjoy your food, you notice gojo’s plate is untouched.

“you’re not hungry? you didn’t touch your food,” you whisper, concerned about his lack of appetite. he lazily turns his head to you, leaning in.

“i want you,” he murmurs.

you hold your composure, not wanting to show a reaction as you know many eyes are on you, including ayana’s. you ignore his words and focus on eating, but you feel gojo’s gaze, intense and searching.

he won’t back down, will he?

gojo deliberately knocks his utensils under the table, the clattering noise drawing everyone’s attention. you know he has something up his sleeve.

“ahh, don’t worry about me! just clumsy,” gojo reassures everyone as they return to their conversation. he lifts the tablecloth and ducks under the table to retrieve the utensils.

just as he’s getting up from under the table, you feel his hand slide under your gown. his cold fingers trail smoothly up your calf, moving higher and higher until they reach your thighs.

your heart races. he cannot be doing this—the royal authorities are here!

your breath hitches, but you try to maintain your calm persona. his touch sends shivers through you, and the risk of being caught only heightens the tension. gojo’s fingers tease your inner thigh, his touch both infuriating and electrifying.

“please,” you whisper, almost inaudibly, not sure if you’re begging him to stop or to continue.

you nearly moan out loud as he rubs you through your already wet undergarments, holding the utensils in his other hand. “here they are! silly me,” he says jokingly, eliciting laughter from the guests. with a rough pull, he moves your undergarments aside, revealing your cunt under the table.

if anyone dared to look under, you two would be sent to the guillotine.

“be a good girl and keep quiet,” he huskily whispers into your ear. you feel yourself slowly turning to mush, his voice, his fingers, his scent—

you cannot keep quiet like this! you must look presentable, especially with ayana glaring at both of you, her annoyance evident.

gojo rubs his fingers along your slit, parting your folds and applying pressure, provoking you to the brink of losing all sanity. his long, slender fingers tease your entrance, almost inserting, but not quite. you bite your lip so hard you think you could bleed, desperately trying to maintain your composure.

shaking, you hold your fork and struggle to focus on eating. gojo, meanwhile, looks unusually pleased, a smug satisfaction on his face as he watches you squirm.

“dear, have you made your decision?” your mother asks, her voice cutting through the hushed conversation at the table. you nervously glance around, internally cursing gojo for his reckless games.

“I-I haven’t,” you stammer, feeling exposed and vulnerable as gojo pinches your throbbing clit. he smirks knowingly, enjoying your struggle to maintain composure.

“you must decide soon, mustn’t you?” gojo interrupts, his tone taunting and cruel. tears threaten to spill from your eyes, realizing he intends to torment you in front of everyone.

“I- mmf”

your whole body jolts as gojo shoves two of his thick fingers straight into your sloppy pussy, the stretch burning in a way that feels strangely good. your velvety walls immediately pulse around his invading fingers, your wetness flowing down your legs. you bite your lip to stifle a cry, struggling to maintain your composure, slowly forgetting that everyone is waiting for your coherent response.

“I will,” you frantically whisper, unsure if anyone heard your hasty response or grasped its significance. as gojo curls his fingers, finding that spot that sends shivers down your spine, you feel yourself growing weaker and weaker with each thrusting movement.

your clit twitches in desperate need of attention, neglected by his deliberate touch, heightening the risky thrill of the forbidden act.

“she would be happier away from all of us,” ayana says, attempting to provoke a reaction from you. but you’re too intoxicated by gojo’s fingers to fully register her words. your legs begin to shake uncontrollably as gojo inserts a third finger, stretching you to the fullest as he’s reaching the deepest parts as you feel intense waves of your orgasm approaching.

“ahh you would love the countryside wouldn’t you?” gojo asks again, smirking at how dumb you’ve already became from his fingers. to an outsider, you appear dazed and drowsy, your senses overwhelmed by gojo’s addictive touch. meanwhile, gojo sits composed and seemingly innocent, oh how this made you want to scream at him.

gojo sneakily snakes his other hand under the table. just as you were about to respond, he begins to rub circular motions on your sensitive nub. the double stimulation causes your velvety walls to rapidly tighten around his curled fingers, soaking both his fingers and your gown.

your brain feels fuzzy as your orgasm intensifies. your eyes flutter continuously, as you hear lewd squelches erupt from under the table as his thrusting movements quicken, eager to have you come for him.

your legs continue to shake uncontrollably as the climax rushes through you, your body tensing up. you collapse onto gojo’s chest, your pussy gushing out juices non-stop, creating a messy puddle under the table. as you catch your breath from the intense release, your arousal remains heightened. gojo holds you close, supporting you as you lean against him.

“oh, she might not be feeling well,” gojo remarks, feigning concern. he slides his fingers out of your cunt, and you silently whine at the sudden loss, your walls clenching around nothing.

wait.

you forgot that you were still having breakfast with all the royal statuses as you and gojo were acting like fools! someone for sure had to notice. you’re too scared to look around as you remain leaning on gojo’s chest.

“i will bring her to her room to rest; this topic can be overwhelming,” gojo says, and everyone believes his cover story as he helps you, guiding you out of the breakfast room.

instead of taking the direct route to your room, gojo leads you down a longer path, where fewer guards are present. he stops at a secluded corner, where you have more space to talk openly.

“do you have any sort of decorum? i almost lost it in front of them!” you exclaim, still feeling the pulsating aftermath of your recent actions. your jaw drops as you watch gojo suck his pruned fingers into his mouth, humming loudly as he savors the taste of your arousal. his bright blue eyes lock onto yours with intense lust.

“i said i wanted you,” he murmurs, seemingly dazed by the lingering taste in his mouth.

“i do not want you to go to the countryside. i want you with me,” he pleads, his eyes darting between your lips and your gaze.

“you cannot always get what you want, big boy,” you tease, your hands wrapping around his neck as you pull him into a passionate kiss. you both moan loudly as your tongues entwine, tasting your arousal on his tongue immediately.

you pull away, denying gojo’s attempt for more kisses. he looks desperate, as if he’s dying without your touch, but you reject him again.

“i have to make my choice,” you say, smoothing out his unbuttoned shirt. your hands slip inside, revealing his lotus tattoo once more. he watches you intently, recognizing your odd attraction to his ink.

“i will see you later, ’toru,” you declare, ending the encounter. with that, you take the longer route back to your room, leaving gojo flustered once again.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as gojo makes his way back to the breakfast room alone, he re-enters the bustling atmosphere where a few people notice his presence. feeling already bored, he settles back into his original seat and makes eye contact with ayana's glossy eyes.

"is my daughter alright? i didn't want her to feel overwhelmed," your mother asks gojo with concern, while ayana eavesdrops. gojo reassures her that everything is fine, but ayana grows more impatient, her leg bouncing in frustration as she knows what transpired between you two.

"all she needed was rest—"

"do you all find this quite odd?" ayana rudely and loudly interrupts, causing a stir in the conversation. her parents are taken aback by her outburst, and the room watches in confusion, waiting for her to continue with her suspicions.

"the man i am supposed to marry is all lovey-dovey for that bitch!" she exclaims, prompting your mother to scold her for her language, which earns ayana's parents a disapproving glance from yours. on the other hand, gojo glares at ayana, visibly restraining himself from reacting impulsively.

“i mean mother, father, you have not seen it all yet but all she does is manipulate my poor ‘ruru,” she continues, spinning a false narrative to fit her story.

“manipulate how?” one of the royal authorities questions, clearly curious about the drama, which could further complicate your choices. ayana shifts her attention to the royal figures, grinning mischievously.

“it’s been many times i have caught them in sexual acts together, she manipulates him into it,” she lies, faking a sniffle to garner sympathy from the authorities. “j-just the other day—oh goodness—they were going feral for each other,” she claims, drawing everyone’s attention to gojo, whose smirk infuriates his mother as he reminisces on your shared intimacy.

“and you were a witness to all of their sexual acts?” the royal authority questions again, setting his utensils down and wiping his mouth with a cotton cloth as he stares intensely at ayana.

“unfortunately, i was. i just hope her punishment increases even more—even right now! they were just engaging in sinful acts under the table! how shameful,” she continues, causing shock and discomfort throughout the room. gojo slouches back in his chair, arms crossed, and begins to laugh, confusing everyone except the royal authorities.

“ayana hara,” another royal authority calls out, catching the attention of ayana and her parents. “as of now, you have confessed to committing a taboo—” ayana’s jaw drops as the authority’s words sink in. her plan isn’t unfolding as expected.

“t-taboo? my royal authority, i-i have not!” ayana interrupts, frantically trying to deny the accusation.

"as i was saying," the royal authority declares firmly, his demeanour visibly upset at her impudent interruption. "bearing witness to sexual acts among two unmarried individuals and failing to promptly report such transgressions to the authorities is considered a grave breach of decorum and law."

ayana’s face drains of color completely. she turns to her parents for support, their eyes seeking guidance from the queen, who remains composed but stern. tears begin to trickle down ayana's cheeks as she comprehends the gravity of her confession. meanwhile, gojo surveys the room with a knowing smile, fully aware of how ayana has unwittingly sealed her fate.

"i- i do not understand, there’s certainly no law about this," ayana stammers, desperation evident in her plea as she searches for any form of support, even casting a fleeting glance towards gojo, hoping he might intervene on her behalf.

"the king and queen uphold the law of the realm without exception. as for your transgression, ayana hara, you are hereby stripped of your duchess title, and immediate banishment of the hara estate is mandated," the authorities pronounce with unwavering authority, rising from their seats in disapproval of the disruption during breakfast. the queen and your mother remain somber and silent throughout, their disappointment clear.

"w- where would i s- stay?" ayana sobs, her world collapsing before her eyes. had she only kept silent, gojo thinks.

"there exists a remote village in the southern reaches, designated for those who have fallen from noble status. there you shall reside until further decree," he continues, the other authorities respectfully concluding their business with the queen and gojo before exiting the room, leaving ayana to cry out in anguish. tears stream down her face as her mother attempts to comfort her.

the room hangs heavy with tension, your mother and the queen maintaining bowed heads. ayana's father hastily pursues the departing authorities, seeking to work out the severity of his daughter's punishment. meanwhile, gojo remains seated, quietly amused by the unfolding drama. from the moment ayana spoke out, he knew her fate was sealed.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

"she was screaming all the way to her carriage, it was hilarious," gojo recounts the scene that unfolded in your absence. ayana had finally got what she deserved, and although you wish you could have witnessed it firsthand, it was satisfying to know she was facing her karma.

gojo stands in your room, recounting the events as you sit at the end of your bed. his shirt is still unbuttoned, and you notice a few more buttons undone than before.

"where has your pretty mind wandered off to?" gojo teases, his hand reaching down to gently lift your face so you meet his blue eyes.

"i am deciding on the first choice," you say, indicating your plan to move to the countryside. you don't want to be forced into a marriage with one of his distant relatives. gojo's smile fades, and he slowly lets go of your face, taken aback by your decision.

"what? no, we must figure something out," he stammers, reality sinking in as he realizes your departure is soon. "time's running out, 'toru. i have to decide, or your father will decide for me."

"no, we will go speak to them." before you can respond, gojo grabs your arm and pulls you out of your room, determined to find his parents. this time, you don't resist his grip, knowing that no matter what gojo says, the king's decision will stand greater.

as you descend the stairs, still hand in hand with gojo, you enter the drawing room to find the king and queen, accompanied by an unfamiliar woman.

“ah, perfect timing,” the king remarks as you both halt. gojo tries to speak but is immediately cut off by his father.

“son, with ayana’s banishment, it disrupts your marriage plans,” the king states.

“yes, father, but i have decided i will marry—”

“you are going to marry ayana’s cousin, rina.”

you shift your focus to the beautiful woman standing beside the king. she’s the same height as you, with long blonde silky hair draping along her back, some pieces neatly curled. her satin blue gown with white accents is beautifully hand-made as she holds a matching fan in one hand. she’s stunning.

you let gojo’s hand go as you feel utterly defeated, his plan of trying to convince the king shattered.

“dear, we ask if you can give them privacy to speak,” the queen says, ordering you to leave. gojo once again grabs your hand.

“she hasn’t decided yet, mother. she has two more days,” gojo says through gritted teeth. the queen chuckles softly at his defensiveness.

“she no longer has a choice. after the incident at breakfast, she will be sent to the countryside permanently first thing tomorrow,” the queen declares.

you can feel his anger.

“are you serious? you allowed her until—”

“i understand,” you say, cutting off gojo as he looks at you in disbelief. he cannot believe how quickly you surrendered your future.

“very well, come now, let us give them space,” the queen says, guiding you out of the room. gojo and rina are left alone as his anger boils over.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as you wander the estate, feeling under the weather, you notice nanami through a window, sitting alone in the outdoor library, writing in a journal.

you approach him, and he looks up, smiling as he gestures for you to join him.

“how have you been?” you ask, genuinely concerned for his well-being.

“I should be asking you that. i never wanted this to happen to you,” he replies, closing his journal and placing the feathered pen neatly beside it. you nod, fidgeting with your fingers.

“i have been avoiding you for a few days. i am so ashamed of what occurred, my dear,” he apologizes, his voice rich with sincerity. you immediately forgive him, not wanting to hold a grudge.

“i am being sent to the countryside tomorrow. satoru will marry ayana's cousin,” you inform him. his brows raise in shock at the speed of the decision.

“and you wanted this?”

“no, i initially wanted to marry you, then sat—“ you stop yourself before you can fully say his name, but nanami already knows. he nods at your almost slip-up.

“i believe moving away is probably for the best, but cutting all contact with all of you is the hardest part,” you say truthfully, your heart aching at the thought of never seeing them again. nanami reaches for your hands, taking them into his larger ones.

“you will always be in contact with me. i shall visit you often and write to you,” he reassures you, his voice calm and steady, making you feel more at ease. "and who knows, perhaps one day i can truly make you my queen," he adds, making you gasp at his words, almost as if he's making a promise to you.

“you are destined to make a great king,” you compliment, rubbing circles onto his hands. his cheeks tint a slight pink beneath his glasses, and he smiles humbly, a touch of warmth in his expression.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

night approaches, and the maids and servants diligently pack your belongings. your room is filled with many helpers, working immediately on the king's orders. your mother and father are nowhere to be seen, their absence suggesting their disappointment in their daughter.

you quietly leave your room and make your way to the staircase, heading towards gojo's quarters. you walk down the long hallway and stand before his door, noting his initials engraved on the wooden surface.

you knock, and he swings the door open, not expecting you. his eyes widen as he sees you standing there, arms crossed, gazing into his puffy eyes—he has been crying.

“my room is filled with servants. may i sleep here?” you ask. he steps aside, allowing you into his spacious room.

“how was the meeting with rina?” you ask, turning to look at him as he locks the door, wanting to know if he has any interest in her.

“i want to move with you,” he says, disregarding your question. you look at him in confusion.

“you know that is impossible. are you truly willing to abandon your future as king for me?” you remind him. he nods, not caring about royal status anymore. you glare at him, wanting him to be realistic.

“please wait for me. i promise i will find you and make you the ruler of this estate,” he says as you step closer, embracing him. he nuzzles his head into your neck.

“i will delay the marriage until i can be with you. just, please, wait,” he pleads, and you chuckle softly at his desperation.

“there will never be a time when we can be together, ‘toru,” you say, shattering his dreams of your future together.

“y-yes, there will be. my father's illness will not last long, and my time as king will soon come. i will bring you back,” he says, choking on his words. he releases you from the embrace, sharing his plan.

you smile at his words, knowing that by the time gojo ascends to the throne, you both will have moved on with your separate lives. you take his hand in yours as you both climb into the large, comfortable bed, cuddling together as you stroke his fluffy hair. his continuous promises of your future together ring in your ears as he slowly drifts into slumber.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

your bags are placed across the grand entrance of gojo's estate. through the large double doors, you see three carriages ready to transport you and your belongings. you’ve barely slept, having spent the night in gojo’s tight embrace.

standing beside your parents, you see the tears welling in their eyes at the thought of their daughter departing. the king and queen arrive, with gojo trailing behind them, a look of sadness all over his face.

“it is indeed a sorrowful sight to see you leave,” the king speaks , “but we must act in the best interest of both our families and your reputation.” your gaze shifts to gojo, whose expression mirrors the anger he felt upon first seeing you enter their home.

“thank you for your hospitality,” you reply, your voice trembling as you bow respectfully to the king and queen. the king gestures for the guards to take the remaining luggage to the carriages, while both sets of parents attempt to accompany you.

“i would request that satoru escort me to my carriage,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. gojo’s face lights up with a mix of relief and sorrow as he takes your hand, guiding you down the grand staircase. your parents and his look on in surprise at your request.

as you descend the steps, you can feel gojo’s sorrow acutely. “i love you,” you confess softly. his eyes glisten with emotion, his cheeks flushing as he averts his gaze to conceal his smile.

reaching the final step and approaching the carriage, a guard opens the door. you slip from gojo’s grasp and turn to face him.

“please wait for me,” he pleads, his voice cracking as he presses his lips to yours. unperturbed by the guards or your parents watching, this kiss is laden with his anguish. he pulls away, tears brimming in his eyes, and kisses your forehead tenderly.

“stay in contact with me, my love,” he says, handing you a letter adorned with your name and a heart. you take it, fighting back tears as you strive to remain composed.

“prince gojo, we are to depart now,” the guard announces, interrupting your moment. you give gojo a final, lingering kiss before entering the carriage. as you adjust your gown in the seat, the guard shuts the door, and you are left alone, moving away.

overcome by emotion, you burst into tears as the carriage slowly begins its journey. gojo stands at the entrance, his heart breaking with each muffled sob that escapes from within. the further the carriage travels, the more his frustration grows—unable to bear the thought of being apart from his true love.

turning abruptly, gojo rushes up the stairs back into the estate, pushing past the concerned crowd as he ignores their calls. all he truly ever wanted was you.

[onceonafullmoon]

rin headcannons🙏🙏

I think you and Rin would start off as childhood friends, with you both meeting in preschool

You’d always think that he was a little strange with his destructive tendencies but you’d also find him interesting, so you’d always ask him to play with you

And albeit, kind of quiet, he isn’t an unfriendly kid so he obliges, given that you’re willing to play monster trucks with him

Besides he secretly thinks you’re kinda pretty too, so he doesn’t mind hanging out with you

And eventually, those school hangouts turn into playdates at his house with his older brother supervising the two of you rather disinterestedly

He definitely promises to marry you in the future because you’re his best friend and he wants to “have sleepovers with you everyday”

Eventually as the two of you grow older, he stops saying stuff like that and blushes in embarrassment when you remind (tease) him about it

But the two of you remain close, with you watching all of his games and cheering for him on the sidelines, occasionally crashing on him and his brothers popsicle runs

(Sae won’t admit it, but he has a soft spot for the two of you)

And it’s all very comforting to Rin, even when Sae moves to go to Spain because he still has you, doesn’t he?

And with age brings awkward pre teen romance, or rather, the dormant feelings he already has for you and he finds himself thinking about you all too often, though he’s much too shy to tell you

Not that you’re unaffected either as you can’t help but notice how cool he is sometimes (on the field at least, he’s still a dork in your eyes)

But all of that is shattered with just one snowy night, with an argument that takes place after Sae comes back from Spain

You’re not quite sure what went down, as Rin refuses to tell you, but all you know is that after that day he seems more… withdrawn, cold even

He starts ignoring you, pushing you away and you find yourself hurt from the abruptness of it all

It all comes to a head when he’s accepted into Blue Lock, and you only find out about it because his mother mentions to you in passing

And you’re upset, because he hasn’t told you about anything, and he’s always pushing you away, and he fires back at you that you’re a distraction to his goals and he doesn’t need you around

And after that explosive argument, he leaves for Blue Lock and you resolve yourself to move on… or at least try to

It’s not until a few years after that, that you both find each other again, both of you visiting your hometowns

He’s a pro player now and you notice that he’s grown even more handsome since you’ve seen him last, but you try to ignore that as you awkwardly greet him, unsure of how to interact with him from your last sighting

Well, not like you’re the only one struggling, he’s also stunned by how gorgeous his childhood crush and ex friend is now as well as racked with guilt for his past actions

The both of you bumble through pleasantries, a million things left unsaid between you two, and you move to leave when he suddenly blurts out an invitation to lunch

You’re startled and he’s more startled, but plays it like he meant it all along, even though his look of relief when you accept is obvious

The tension is strange at first, but as you reminisce on old childhood memories, you find yourself loosening up, until you’re both acting the same as you always have

Obviously though, you have to address the elephant in the room and after a few days of dancing around the subject you ask him why he left you in that way

And, albeit hesitantly, he tells you about his falling out with Sae and how he felt so determined to be the best he felt the need to push you away

To which you quietly respond that he didn’t need to push you away because you would have done whatever you could to help him achieve his dream

And after that heart to heart you find the two of you growing closer together again, like you always were

Albeit, it's a little different without the blindness of your youth to cover up the obvious attraction you have to each other, but both of you are too shy

That is until one night when you’re talking, and suddenly he just realizes how… pretty you look, and the way the lighting hits your face… and suddenly he’s leaning in towards you

And he realizes what he’s doing too late, but you’re leaning in too, and when your lips meet, it just feels right

And that’s how you finally get together, after years in the making

As a boyfriend Rin can be… just a tad bit obsessive/possessive

It’s not like he’s gonna have you on lock down or anything, though he might think about it a bit too much, but he’s noticeably on edge whenever someone intrudes on the two of you

He’s also got infinitely more patience with you than anyone else (something that you can abuse if you’re feeling particularly evil)

He says he doesn’t like pet names, he is lying

Likes watching horror movies with you if you enjoy them (but he also doesn’t mind if you’re the type to get scared easily and cling to him)

He’s not very verbally affectionate, but he’ll make up for it with physical touch (always having an arm around you, pulling you into a hug when he comes back from practice etc.)

No matter how long you’ve been dating him, he still gets flustered when you’re overly sweet with him 

In all, a cute relationship, and you’re not getting rid of him anytime soon

After all, even though it was all those years ago, he said he was gonna marry you, didn’t he?

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

:) you all know what time it isssss

Danny Al-ghul

But not in the way you would think. So the Fentons find out about Danny being phantom (catching him changing or something) and {this is a Bad Fenton Au so we gonna traumatizing the fuck out of this boy} and they experiment and torture him for a few weeks to a month in this time frame Jazz, Sam and Tucker have died and have not come back as ghost due to dying by a ghost blaster ( hint hint )

And Danny eventually die (fully this time) due to torture and starvation (They didn’t think ‘Ghost’ needed to eat) and when Danny died he gets yeeted into a part of the Zone no one goes to and when I say no one I mean NO ONE and eventually crashes into it

And now into a bit into this part of The Zone it is actually The Home of the dead Al-ghuls and their assassins + some pit demons but they aren’t really that conscious…I guess I mean they move around and sometimes talk or well scream because they are infected by The Madness (Pit Rage) and kinda act like obsessiveness ghost…oh I never explained what that was well I do it in the next post or something but for the time it just means feral and more animalistic than a normal ghost would be

So basically Danny crash landed into a feral Pit {you see what I did there} and after some shenanigans and shit the dead and Feral Al-ghuls kinda just accepted into the family I mean the past tense assassins and the younger dead Al-ghuls listen to them so he’s a part of them now

And if you were to ask one of the Al-ghuls ( If they were sane enough for that ) they would basically say

=====================================

“Yeah that Danny we don’t know who’s kid he is and he’s not really into the hole assassin thing and he’s far to soft to be an Al-ghul but he heals us and takes care of the younger ones so he’s part of the family and no one’s going to take him away” * proceeds to rip out the core of the ghost who asks and eats it or brings it to Danny because he eats less than everyone else ( he doesn’t he just doesn’t eat fucking CORES)*

=====================================

What I mean about healing them is that Danny constantly carries around a never ending black marble bowl { like in my Snake Empress Au } of the purest ecto you can have ( Clockwork gave it to him for helping the Ferals and the LOLS by the misunderstandings from the future you’ll give it in a sec ) and when ghost are feral instead of cuts and stuff they break and crack like a porcelain doll or something else that cracks that like that and pours a bit into the crack/break

——————————————————————————

Now onto the DC part of this! So while Tim was looking for Bruce in the timestream {like in my Void and Prism Au} and somehow ends up in front of a giant temple like building that is surrounded by multiple lagoons and lakes of Lazarus pits ( and that a bit concerning in itself ) and as Tim walks in he hears footsteps and the pulling of fabric on the ground so he turns around not really knowing what to expect but he was most definitely not expecting the most beautiful boy he’s ever seen but what caught his attention is the black marble bowl that has the purest Lazarus water he’s ever seen and a few shenanigans and a get together later Tim is now dating this ethereal, beautiful, kind he should probably stop while he’s ahead before he goes on for hours {So basically Tim is down bad for our little ghost boy} who so happens to an Al-ghul and Danny helps Tim find Bruce but Danny makes Tim promise to keep in contact ( which Tim was going to do anyway and not to mention Danny’s literal Amy of Feral Al-ghuls/assassins/pit demons who will kill him and than hunt him in death for his core to give to Danny as a trophy and just for the LOLS let’s have everyone misunderstand that Danny is an Al-ghul )

So a few years later Tim and Danny are still in contact and Tim is still down bad but he still hasn’t told everybody about it until one day the Batfam fucks up and Tim fucks off to The Ghost Zone back to his boyfriend ( possible fiancé but still hasn’t told anyone)

=====================================

The JL-JLD: running around like headless chickens

The Batfam: Much angst

Tim and Danny: chilling out and being in love and shit

====================================

And now on to the details of this!

For Danny’s outfit I’m thinking something like this

And he’s wearing some jewelry like this

And for hair

also here is a pic of the black marble bowl ( it is the same in my Snake empress au and in this )

=====================================

nd that’s about it about this au and I hope you guys like it tell me if you want to see more of this byeeeee

[shotmrmiller]

the possibilities for bullying a girl into an inescapable marriage are endless … soap finding a girl from a catholic family, getting her into bed, then ‘accidentally’ letting it slip to her family and nodding along when her mother is like ‘you have to marry him it’s the only way to save yourself from sin’

price in vegas getting blackout drunk with some sweet thin he met at the casino bar, and both of them waking up in the morning with rings. so what if price wasn’t really that drunk? reader doesn’t need to know that.

ghost who convinces you to marry him for the benefits so he gets better housing and you get his health insurance. you think it’s purely transactional, so imagine your surprise when he starts expecting you to perform your other spousal duties and threatens to kill the guy you were gonna go on a date with.

gaz who agrees to be your fake boyfriend for a family dinner, so you don’t have to suffer through another round of ‘what do you mean you’re still single? when am i getting grandbabies?’ only to realize your mistake too late when you catch him in the kitchen with your mother, promising her she’s getting grandbabies soon.

soap's just looking at her mom like he hadn't a clue that it was that serious for "catholics" and he'll do right by them both and take her hand in marriage as if he doesn't have a crucifix around his neck that gleams against coarse hair and pale scars. as if he doesn't remember his ma giving him sharp twists to the ear because he'd made them late for sunday mass again. ofc not. and if he knows certain prayers, he'd learned for his future wife. obviously.

price is def the type to befriend the loud, drunken girl on vacation in some party city he'd just finished a job in. buys her drink after drink because she'd said she can hold her own. unsurprisingly, she was all talk no walk. she calls him handsome once, threads her fingers into his greying hair and his first stop is the nearest jewelry store. he doesn't touch the new mrs. price as she sleeps off the alcohol, he wants her awake for what he's got planned. (ghost ofc hears of his new wife and sends him a congrats text)

ghost gets signed up on tinder by soap against his knowledge will and when soap matches him with some girl only looking for fun, simon decides he's gonna give her more than that and if she's the type to try to kick him out the morning after, he's calling price to forge her signature onto a marriage certificate. (price eventually meets her and he's just like "shouldntve fed him, love. should've known he wouldn't leave." rip a girl just tryna have some sex)

kyle tells her that he needs a gf for the weekend because there's a wedding, soaps wedding actually, and she agrees. (every time she corrects him to his plus one he simply repeats himself.) he immediately goes back on his promise, "i won't even touch ya," cuz his hand is constantly roaming south, he sits her on his lap whether she wants it or not, and during the slow dancing he's prying her mouth open with his for, "just one kiss." if he fucks her in the groom's dressing room during the dinner, no he didn't. (he needs his hands on her, no one believes that they're dating:(

[sku11s1asher]

Kinktober Day 1: Edging

lyney x top male reader

notes: guess who’s doing kinktober?? me!! pretend i posted this earlier since i couldn’t find a list until last sec, oops. ignore the fact that this is short and totatllyyy not rushed.. i don’t even know the characters i wanna do so PLEASE DM OR SPAM MY INBOX WITH CHARACTERS YOU WANNA SEE!! if a day doesn’t get posted on time, i promise ill post it eventually trust

cw: edging (obv), one slap on his thigh, sharp ass nails, crying, im a sucker for lyney sorry guys

It must be a wonderful feeling to have Lyney, the great magician of Fontaine, the future successor to Arlechino, right under your fingertips, literally. Such a strong man, reduced to a whimpering and begging mess, all because of a little touching. He looked so beautiful though, his makeup ruined, back arched, cock leaking, body on full display, just for you.

A needy whine left his lips, “Please, I- I can’t!” Your eyes flickered up, tilting your head at him, “You can’t what? Use your big boy words, baby.” He could barely open his eyes to look at you, everything was too much. His arm went over his face when your hand slowly started moving again, it took everything in him to not buck his hips. He needed to cum so badly, why are you being such an asshole?

You leaned down to kiss his stomach before taking your hand off his cock. You’ve only been edging him for 15 minutes, it’s pathetic how quickly he became a mess. After staring at him for a few moments longer, you finally grabbed the lube, opening it, and pouring it over his dick, watching as it slowly dripped down towards his hole.

—

Maybe it was too much, he was squeezing around your fingers so tightly, thighs squeezing around you. Every sound that came from his mouth was almost laughable, barely audible words, moans, and whimpers. It’s like you took away his tongue.

“Calm down,” you said to him, your free hand giving his thigh a light slap. Your finger kept rubbing against his prostate, sometimes purposely missing it. “How can I calm down?” He hissed out, eyes starting to fill with tears. All you could do was let out a chuckle, no matter how angry he pretended to be, his body always betrayed him.

Once you finally decided to stick another finger inside of him, a fat glob of pre cum dripped from his tip. You could tell that he was trying his hardest to not cum, the way his breathing started to increase, how his face slightly changed, the slight grind against your fingers. Of course, you paused your movements, just long enough for him to lose the high before you started to get him open.

—

“Fuck,” as soon as you were even an inch inside of him, he was trying to pull all of you inside. “Lyney,” your voice warned, the grip on his waist tightening. All you got in response was a loud moan and nails going deeper into your back. When you, finally, got inside of him, it felt like heaven. Hell, it sounded like heaven.

“You wanna cum?” You asked into his ear, head falling into his neck, biting it as you thrust. “Yes, yes, please!” He begged, one of his hands going on your head, pulling you closer. Though, his other hand tried going to his dick, which didn’t slide with you. As soon as you felt his hand go between your stomachs, you stopped moving altogether.

“No, no, no, ‘m sorry-“ he quickly pleaded, you could feel his tears, what a baby. “If try to you touch yourself, I’ll stop again,” You warned, slowly going back to thrusting into him. He didn’t even last a minute, hole immediately squeezing you tighter, nails scratching your back, finally coming. You didn’t stop for a second, trying to reach your own high as he continued to moan like a cheap whore.