#three lights are lit but the fourth one is out

[writersblockiskillingme]

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Prequel to this fic here!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

[johnbrand]

BACS

With @mrrharper

“Hopkins,” the coach said curtly to the buff guard at the gate. The security officer barely seemed to register him as a person, rather just an item on his list to check off. Once he was allowed to proceed, Coach Hopkins entered into the corridor and proceeded to the farthest room. Quite frankly, the coach embodied everything a man should be at his age: big, strong, rich. Running one of the country’s top collegiate teams meant he was often provided with ample checks. But an investor had been hinting that the meeting he was about to attend would only raise his profits higher. And now standing before the other guests, Coach Hopkins believed this investor was not mistaken.

Feeling mighty pleased with himself, and honestly a bit haughty, the coach scanned the room, taking in all the other broad, strapping men. There was Coach Larson from one of the major east coast schools, Coach McNamara from the private military academy that swept the competition every year. Coach Hopkins recognized another prominent coach from California, but could not place his name. There were a few more men in the room, engaging in casual conversation about work, but the atmosphere in the space was mildly tense. Instead of acquainting himself with others, Coach Hopkins took a seat and remained there until the presentation began. 

“Gentleman,” the host began. The suit that covered his large frame appeared painted on, tight against his skin. A former collegiate athlete who had stayed in shape; Coach Hopkins could not help but take a moment to respect the work. “Invited amongst you today are some of your finest colleagues in the field. Hopefully you all know why you are here, so we will skip past the pleasantries and get right to the presentation.”

Behind the host, the wall suddenly began to glow. A soft light filtered upon it before focusing on colors and images. Eventually, the display became clear, showcasing live camera footage inside an empty male restroom.

“We believed the best way to explain our product was to show how it works,” the host started slyly. Coach Hopkins watched as the door to the restroom opened, revealing a young college-aged male. By his medium build and uniform, the coach assumed he could have been in lacrosse, baseball, or even a non-tackling football player. His third guess was correct.

“Before us is Dawson Welch, a decent transfer from an undisclosed Division III school. Originally holding potential, he has not yet conformed to our nationwide protocol, otherwise known as BACS for short.”

The four words were then flashed in red at the bottom of the screen. A silly acronym, but one that worked nonetheless.

Beefy          Aggressive          Cocky          Straight

“Our case study is about to demonstrate the results of our program,” the host smiled.

There were a few murmurs from the other men. The California coach even shifted a bit, slightly uncomfortable at what he was about to witness. Coach Hopkins remained silent, observing the subject. By his size and careful actions, he could already identify that three of the required four set standards were missing.

“Tyler?” Dawson called out into the room. “Baby, it’s alright, I’m here now.” The coach nodded with confirmation for the fourth characteristic. Grabbing his phone, the host then sent a simple text message. Thanks to the live camera, the men could all watch as the subject’s own device buzzed. Timidly opening it, Dawson checked his phone.

“Ok Tyler, I am going to open the link you sent me,” Dawson called out, unaware the link was not actually sent from his romantic interest. As if already suspecting the lurking danger behind the text, the subject slowly tapped the link and let it proceed forward. The room lit up in a flash, even blinding the live camera temporarily. The audio did not shut off, but the stream went quiet. Moments later, the men were reoriented back into the restroom.

Murmurs flew around the space once more. A few of their faces displayed shock at the screen presented before them. Coach Hopkins held stoic, but his eyes bore straight on. The scene before him was almost entirely the same. Nothing had changed, except for the subject.

“Gone are the days of your players attending frivolous seminars and engaging in anti-anything protests. Thanks to our technology, we can now guarantee your boys will be real, undeniably American men.” 

Where once stood the rather average athletic young male was now a bulky creature. He was taller, brawnier, and brutish. His uniform had been replaced with a tight, all-black outfit to better display his offerings. The sleeveless tank outlined massive pecs, broad shoulders, a thick core, and made his cannon-like arms bulge out of his sides like an oversized action figure. The running shorts appeared more like briefs, searing into the monstrous thighs that led down to steel calves and feet so large they could not be accommodated at most shoe outlets. Speaking of briefs, Coach Hopkins noted the subject was no longer wearing any; a thick python and a low-hanging set were peeking out of one of the leg holes. 

By the gigantic size, the host could easily confirm his product met the first criteria. And by the backwards cap, arrogant grin, and constant man-handling, the men in the room were all able to confirm the second and third on their own. They had been around these types long enough to know the signs.

“What was I doing anyway, bro?” Dawson asked himself in a voice deeper and duller than his previous offerings. After scratching at his thick pubes and giving it a sniff, an idea suddenly sprung into the subject’s head. Coach Hopkins could sense the process of thinking was a more difficult procedure now then it had been before. “Right, I was gonna see if that chick from last night still wanted to get laid tonight. What was her name, Jenna? Brianna? Maybe she’d be a good lil girl and bag me a threesome? God, that’s so hot…”

The stream cut off shortly after, but not before the subject’s continual groping started to awaken his massive dong. The last image was frozen onto the screen, with Dawson preparing the classic flexed picture his predatory nature utilized to ensnare victims.

“So what do you say, gentlemen,” the host sneered. “Would anyone like to try our trial package?”

[stylesispunk]

"I love you, it's ruining my life" | part iii.

Joel Miller x f!reader

previous chapter | part iv

Summary: Joel tried to win you back or where Joel goes all his way to find you but things are not as easy as he thought or that's what he thinks. w.c: 5,7k warnings: angst, FLUFF. Perhaps grammar mistakes cuz I didn't check the chapter, sorry. Not my best chapter, but some hearts are going to be happy a/n: As I promised, part 3 is here! Thank you so much for all the love you gave it to the first part, I'm really happy you loved it despite the messy writing. This one is not my best, but some hearts will be mended. This was a messy week for me and I was not completely focused on this, but I wanted to give it to you. AGAIN, this part will not be the end, so a fourth and last part is already in the works to end this mini-story since I split this chapter in two :) If you have a suggestion, question, or want to talk to me, you can come to my dms or asks! Happy reading 💌 dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Five years ago,

On your 25th birthday,.

Years were passing by; it was your 25th birthday, and your friends had decided to throw a grand party for you in a dowtown venue. Of course, Joel had told you he couldn’t make it; he couldn’t leave Sarah behind, and being a single father of a three-year-old at twenty-five held him back from dropping everything and just coming to your party.

You stood by the entrance, looking around at the lively scene, when you decided to give Joel a call. He had told you earlier that he couldn’t make it; being a single father of a three-year-old at twenty-five made it impossible for him to drop everything and come to your party.

“Are you sure you can’t make it?” you asked through the phone, your voice tinged with a hint of disappointment. The noise from the party buzzed in the background.

“Oh, sweetie, you know I would love to be there with you, but I’m having a party with my baby,” Joel replied. You could almost see his smile through the phone, picturing him sitting on the couch, trying to make Sarah fall asleep in his arms.

Though you understood, a part of you felt incomplete without him there, and you knew exactly why.

“Okay, then,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light and cheerful despite the sinking feeling in your chest.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, promise,” he said, his voice warm and sincere.

“Alright, Joel. Give Sarah a kiss for me,” you said before hanging up.

The party continued in full swing, but you found yourself increasingly detached from the celebration around you. The laughter and conversations felt distant, overshadowed by the thought of spending your birthday without Joel. Finally, unable to shake the feeling, you made your excuses and slipped away from the party, leaving the lively party behind.

Joel was exhausted. He had put Sarah to sleep and just sat on the couch to watch a movie, wanting to keep himself awake and make sure you would arrive home safe and sound. As the soft glow of the TV flickered in the dimly lit room, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for not being able to celebrate your birthday with you.

Lost in his thoughts, Joel was startled by a soft knock at the door. Frowning, he glanced at the clock—it was late, and he wasn’t expecting anyone. He stood up, making his way to the door and opening it to find you standing there, a small, tired smile on your face.

He said your name, shocked.

“What are you doing here?” Joel asked, his eyes wide with surprise and concern. “Shouldn’t you be at your party?”

You shrugged, stepping inside and giving him a warm hug. “I was at the party,” you said, your voice soft and filled with emotion. “But I realized that there’s no place I’d rather be on my birthday than here with you,” you paused, “and Sarah, of course.”

Joel’s expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over him. “Sarah is sleeping, and you didn’t have to do that,” he said tenderly. “It’s your birthday. You should be out celebrating.”

You shook your head, your eyes meeting his with unwavering sincerity. “This is where I want to be,” you replied firmly. "Besides, I brought food,” you said, lifting bags in front of Joel's face.

Joel's smile was slow but genuine, a warmth spreading across his features as he pulled you into a tight embrace. “Happy birthday,” he whispered, his voice filled with affection.

As you both made your way to the kitchen, you unpacked the food you had brought. It was a simple spread—some of your favorite dishes from the party. You set the table, and the cozy atmosphere of Joel's home makes you feel more at ease.

Joel poured you both a drink, and you sat down to eat, sharing stories and laughter. The conversation flowed naturally, as it always did between the two of you. It was moments like these that reminded you why Joel was such an important part of your life.

After finishing the meal, you both moved to the living room. Joel put on a movie, and you settled onto the couch, comfortable in each other's presence. The noise of the TV filled the room, but it was the quiet, unspoken bond between you that brought the most comfort.

As the movie played, Sarah stirred from her sleep and toddled into the living room, rubbing her eyes. "Bubu?" she said, her voice sleepy and endearing.

You smiled, reaching out to her. "Hey there, birthday girl," you said softly, lifting her onto your lap. Sarah snuggled against you, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck.

Joel watched the two of you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It looks like Sarah wanted to join the party," he said, his voice filled with warmth.

You laughed; the sound was light and happy. "The best party I could ask for," you replied, hugging Sarah close.

As the night went on, the three of you sat together, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company. The flickering light of the TV cast a warm glow over the room, and in that moment, everything felt perfect.

Joel glanced over at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something deeper that he couldn't quite put into words. "You really made my night by coming here," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

"I couldn't imagine spending my birthday any other way," you replied, your heart full. "Thank you for being here for me, always."

Joel reached over and took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "We're always here for each other," he said, his voice a promise. "No matter what."

Joel didn’t know why his heart felt like it was exploding every time you were around.

A year had passed since you left, and Joel found himself constantly haunted by memories of you. The days had blurred together into a monotonous routine, and the nights were filled with restless thoughts of what might have been. Every corner of his house reminded him of you, from the empty chair at the dining table to the quiet, lonely evenings after Sarah had gone to bed.

Joel spent the year focusing on Sarah, trying to be the best father he could be while grappling with the void your absence had left. He poured his heart into his work, his family, and his responsibilities, but nothing could fill the emptiness that lingered in his heart.

As the months went by, Joel found himself yearning to see you again, to hear your voice, and to feel your presence. He knew you needed time and space to heal, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to find you to see if there was any chance of rebuilding what they had lost.

And so, with trembling hands and a heart full of fear, Joel found himself standing in New York, pacing back and forth in front of your building. The bustling city seemed to move around him in a blur, the noise and energy contrasting sharply with the turmoil inside him. He had come all this way, but now, standing so close to you, he was paralyzed by doubt.

Had you thought about him the same way he had been thinking about you? He thought for himself while pacing back and forth over the cobblestones in front of the building you lived in.

Joel couldn’t make up his mind until the exact moment he took all this courage and flew all the way here to find you. It felt surreal to be in this city, so far from the familiar life he had known, all for the chance to see you again. The realization of how much he had missed you and how deeply he still cared had driven him to this point. Now, as he stood in front of your building, the weight of his decision pressed heavily on his shoulders.

His thoughts raced with questions and doubts. What if you had moved on? What if you were happy without him? What if seeing him only brought back painful memories you had worked so hard to move past? These fears churned in his mind, paralyzing him with indecision.

He looked up at the windows, imagining you inside, living your life. The city around him buzzed with activity, but Joel felt isolated, trapped in his own whirlwind of emotions. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his hands still shook as he clenched and unclenched them.

Joel stood there, the city’s noises fading into the background as he lost himself in his thoughts. His mind drifted back to the moment he realized he was in love with you, a moment that had come so unexpectedly yet felt so right. It was a quiet evening, long before the chaos of the last year, when he saw you playing with Sarah in the backyard of his house. The way you laughed and the tenderness in your eyes as you helped Sarah with her tiny steps had struck him deeply.

It had always been you, he realized. Through all the ups and downs, the moments of joy and sorrow, you have been the constant in his life. Tess had been important, but she felt like a chapter in his life.

The night before he was supposed to get married, when you confessed your feelings, was etched in his memory. Your vulnerability and the raw honesty in your eyes had shaken him to his core. How he had kissed you then, driven by an overwhelming need to bridge the gap between what he had always felt and what he had denied for so long.

Now, standing in front of your building, the weight of that realization pressed heavily on his chest. He had almost married another woman, but it had always been you. His heart ached with the knowledge of the pain he had caused—the confusion and hurt that had driven you away.

Taking another deep breath, Joel forced himself to focus. He had come here to make amends, to lay bare his soul, and to hope that you could find it in your heart to forgive him. His hands still trembled, but the resolve in his heart was unwavering. He needed to see you to tell you that he loved you, that he had always loved you, and that he was willing to do whatever it took to rebuild what you both had lost.

Just as Joel mustered the last of his courage to cross the street and approach your building, he heard the sound of a car pulling up. He glanced over and saw you stepping out, laughing with a man beside you. His heart sank at the sight, a mixture of jealousy and heartbreak washing over him. The scene before him seemed to confirm his worst fears—that you had moved on and found happiness without him.

You looked radiant, your laughter lighting up the whole town, and he smiled at the sight of you.

He stood still, not knowing what to do, just asking himself, How could you be able to bear the burning feelings in your heart at the sight of him with another woman and still be so good to him? It hurt like he was feeling it now.

Joel stood there, his heart aching as he watched you, his mind racing with thoughts of the past and the overwhelming emotions he was experiencing in the present. He felt an immense sense of guilt and regret for the pain he had caused you, and now, seeing you with someone else, he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy and sadness.

His thoughts were interrupted when you looked up and locked eyes with him. The shock on your face mirrored the turmoil inside him. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the bustling city around you both fading into the background.

Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of surprise and confusion. You stopped in your tracks, the man beside you following your gaze to where Joel stood. Joel felt his breath catch in his throat, unsure of what to do or say. The reality of the situation hit him hard—he had come all this way, and now he was standing before you, unsure if he even had the right to ask you for a chance.

He was about to go when he heard your voice.

"Joel," you said, crossing the street, your voice barely above a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

Joel took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I came here to see you," he said, his voice gaining strength. I came here to tell you that I love you. I know I hurt you, and I know I have a lot to make up for, but I couldn't let another day go by without telling you how I feel. He thought.

"Joel," you began, your voice filled with a mix of emotions. "It's been a year.”

“I know. It’s just,” he paused for a second, “forget it.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy with unresolved emotions. Joel felt the weight of them pressing down on him, his heart sinking with each passing moment. He knew he had no right to expect forgiveness or to ask for another chance. But he couldn't bear the thought of walking away without at least trying to make things right.

As he turned to go, he felt a gentle hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He looked back to see you standing there, your eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and uncertainty.

"Joel," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Please don't go."

He hesitated, torn between the desire to flee from the pain of rejection and the hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for redemption.

"There's a café around the corner," you continued, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "Let's go there and talk."

He graced his lips with a tiny smile and nodded.

“Just wait here a second.”

To say you were fine would be a lie. Of course, you have been better since you were in pieces. You had thought about Joel every single night since the day you left. He was coming home to a woman who wasn't you, sleeping and waking up next to her, having a family. Perhaps on the possibility of Tess being pregnant, you were sitting across from him, the man who had once been your everything.

Joel looked older and more worn, but there was a softness in his eyes that you recognized. You could tell he was nervous, and it mirrored your own anxiety. The silence between you was thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"I didn't know if I'd ever see you again," you finally said, your voice barely audible over the hum of the café.

Joel nodded, his fingers wrapped tightly around his coffee cup. "I didn't know if you'd want to see me," he replied, his voice rough with emotion.

You looked down at your own cup, the steam rising in gentle tendrils, and took a deep breath. "How did you know my address?”

“Tommy.”

“That fucker,” you joked. 

Joel chuckled, "I know," he said, his voice breaking slightly. “But don’t blame him; I asked him.”

You glanced up, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was almost overwhelming, and you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you. "Why?”

“Why?”

“Yes. Why, after a whole year, Joel?” You questioned him, not calling him by tender names anymore. The way you called out his name felt strange and foreign.

Joel's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of deep introspection. He took a moment before responding, his gaze dropping to his coffee cup. "Because you needed time, and I did, too,” he said softly.

You nodded, not uttering words. There was anything for you to say, or so you thought. “I-How… How is Sarah?”

Joel's smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of deep introspection. He took a moment before responding, his gaze dropping to his coffee cup. "Because you needed time, and I did, too," he said softly.

You nodded, not uttering words. There was nothing for you to say, or so you thought. “I—How… How is Sarah?”

“She misses you,” Joel replied, his voice thick with emotion. "She talks about you all the time and wonders when you’ll come back. I didn’t realize how much you meant to her until you were gone."

A lump formed in your throat as you thought of Sarah, her innocent face, and the bond you had shared. "I miss her too," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. "She’s a big part of why I stayed away. I didn’t want to confuse her or make things harder for her."

“How could you? You were everything to her.”

“I bet Tess loves her that much too.”

Joel chuckled again. It felt almost insulting to you. “I didn’t marry Tess,” he confessed.

Your eyes widened in surprise at Joel's confession. “What?” you asked, barely able to believe what you had just heard.

Joel looked down, his fingers tracing the rim of his coffee cup. “I didn’t marry Tess,” he repeated, his voice quieter this time, laden with the weight of his decision.

“But why?” you asked, your voice a mix of shock and curiosity. “I thought...”

Joel sighed, lifting his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and resolve. “I couldn’t go through with it. It wasn’t fair to her, to Sarah, or to myself. My heart was never fully in it because my heart has always been with you.”

You felt a rush of conflicting emotions—relief, confusion, and a lingering ache from the past year’s pain. “Joel, I...”

Your words got cut. You felt shame wash over you once again. Guilt, as if you committed treason and ruined another person's life. You thought about Tess.

Your words got cut short, replaced by a wave of overwhelming emotions. Shame washed over you, followed by a torrent of guilt. You thought about Tess and the life she might have imagined with Joel, a life you had inadvertently disrupted. The weight of it all felt suffocating.

Unable to sit still, you stood up abruptly, pushing your chair back with a screech that drew a few curious glances from the other patrons. Joel looked up at you, alarmed by your sudden movement.

“Wait, where are you going?” He asked, his voice laced with concern and a hint of desperation.

You took a step back, shaking your head as if trying to clear the whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. “I-I can’t do this, Joel,” you stammered, your voice trembling. “It’s too much. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Joel stood up as well, reaching out to you. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he said softly, trying to reassure you. “I made my own choices. I couldn’t marry Tess because it wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. Especially not to you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the pain and confusion evident in your expression. “How can I live with myself knowing I caused her so much hurt?”

Joel took a step closer, his hands gently reaching out but stopping just short of touching you, respecting your space. His eyes were filled with a mix of determination and tenderness as he spoke, his voice steady but earnest. “Tess and I have talked,” he said. “She deserves someone who can love her fully, and I realized that person wasn’t me. It was a hard decision, but it was the right one for both of us. She’s moved on, and she’s happy.”

You searched his eyes, seeing the sincerity and deep affection that had always been there. But the weight of guilt and the fear of causing more pain were too overwhelming. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were to blame for the hurt Tess had gone through. “I don’t know if I can do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

You shook your head, the tears spilling over as you took another step back. “I can’t, Joel. I just can’t,” you said, your voice breaking. Turning away, you started to walk towards the exit, your heart pounding in your chest.

Joel’s voice rang out, louder and more desperate, stopping you in your tracks. “Will you run away from me again?! It seems like a habit of yours!

His words stung, and you spun around, your eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt. “A habit? You think running away is a habit?” You shot back, your voice trembling with emotion. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to leave? How much did it tear me apart?”

Joel took a step closer, his face etched with frustration and pain. “I know it was hard. It was hard for me, too. But you can’t keep running every time things get tough. We need to face this together.”

“Us? There’s no us, Joel!” You echoed, incredulous. “You were about to marry someone else, Joel! How was I supposed to face that?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his eyes filled with regret. “I wish you had never told me about your feelings; I wouldn't have lost you.”

“'You would, though.” You whispered.

“You're the coward here.” He cried out.

“Did you want me to spend a whole fucking year of my life waiting for you? You were supposed to be married; you never saw me the way I saw you, and I wasn’t going to stay there to watch.” You paused. “I waited for you to call me to show me I was important, but... Listen, I don't blame you. How could I? You didn't know.” You tried to say, hoping to change the tone this conversation was taking, but for Joel, everything you said didn’t matter anymore.

“The man you were with...”

“We’re dating,” you replied, not meeting his gaze.

Joel’s expression hardened at your admission; the pain was evident in his eyes. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the anger and frustration bubbled just beneath the surface. “You’re dating someone else,” he repeated, his voice strained. “And you didn’t think I deserved to know? You didn’t think I had the right to fight for you?”

“What was there to fight for, Joel?” You shot back, your own anger rising. “You were getting married to someone else. How could I believe there was anything left for us?”

Joel ran a hand through his hair again, his movements agitated. “Fuck this,” he said, his voice breaking. He turned and started to walk past you, his shoulders tense with unresolved emotion.

You watched him go, a part of you wanting to reach out and stop him, but the pain and confusion held you back. “Joel, wait,” you called after him, but he didn’t slow down.

The weight of the past year’s emotions, the regrets, and the missed opportunities pressed down on you as you watched him walk away. You wanted to scream, to cry, to do something to make it all better, but the words wouldn’t come.

Joel pushed open the door to the café and stepped outside, the sound of the city flooding in. He paused for a moment, his back to you, as if he were wrestling with the decision to leave or stay. The seconds stretched into an eternity, the distance between you feeling insurmountable.

“Joel, please,” you said, your voice breaking. “I don’t want to lose you again.”

He turned around slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of anger, hurt, and something deeper—hope. “I came here to see if you were good,” he said simply, his voice raw with emotion. “I don't want to accept that losing you is our fate, but if you’re happy the way you are now, I have nothing else to do here.

"Joel,” you called out his name again, but he disappeared into the crowd. Tears welled up in your eyes as you watched him walk away, a sense of loss washing over you. You wanted to run after him, to tell him that you weren't happy and that you still loved him, but the words caught in your throat.

Joel had come all this way to find you, to see if there was still a chance for the two of you, but now he was walking away, and you didn't know if you would ever see him again.

Feeling lost and adrift, you sank into a nearby chair, the weight of your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. The café buzzed with activity around you, but you felt completely alone, the absence of Joel's presence like a gaping hole in your heart.

As you sat there, grappling with the pain and regret, you realized that you had to make a choice. You couldn't continue living in the past, holding onto what might have been. If you wanted a chance at happiness, you had to let go of your fears and take a leap of faith.

You wanted him to forgive you for not waiting for him, but a year after radio silence was the answer you got. Not fighting, not callbacks asking you to come back. The love you had for him felt childish, with promises made but never to keep, and maybe you had just closed the door to him.

Back in your apartment, the weight of the recent events bore down on you like a heavy burden. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you sat on the edge of your bed, clutching your cell phone tightly in your hand. The breakup with the guy you had been dating had been inevitable, with your feelings for Joel still lingering beneath the surface, stronger than ever.

With trembling fingers, you scrolled through your contacts until you found Joel's name. Taking a shaky breath, you pressed the call button and waited, your heart pounding in your chest.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel's voice came through the line, filled with warmth and concern. "Baby?" he said, his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

Tears welled up in your eyes again at the sound of his voice, the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "Why did you have to come back to do this?" you whispered, your voice raw with pain and longing.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, as if Joel was trying to find the right words to say.

“I could prove to myself that my life could continue without you, but you had to come back and fuck up everything, Joel?

The words spilled out of you—a mix of anger, frustration, and hurt. You wanted to push him away, to shield yourself from the pain he had brought back into your life, but at the same time, you couldn't deny the love you still felt for him, pulsing beneath the surface like a live wire.

Joel's response was barely a whisper, his voice heavy with remorse. "I'm sorry," he said, the words hanging in the air between you like a weight. "I never meant to hurt you."

The tears flowed freely down your cheeks now, your heart torn between conflicting emotions. "But you did," you choked out, the pain of the past year crashing over you in waves. "You hurt me so much."

There was another pause, and then Joel spoke again, his voice thick with emotion. "Tell me how to fix it," he said softly. "And I'll spend the rest of my life trying to make it right."

His words hung in the air—a promise and a plea all at once. You knew that forgiving him wouldn't be easy and that rebuilding what you had lost would take time and effort, but deep down, you couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was still hope for the two of you.

"I just wanted for you to love me the way I love you," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. The admission hung heavy in the air, the raw vulnerability of your words laying bare the depth of your feelings.

Joel's response was immediate; his voice was filled with regret and longing. "I do love you," he said, his words laced with sincerity. "I was just too blind to see it before, too scared to admit it to myself."

"I don't want to hear it on the phone, Joel," you said softly, your heart pounding in your chest. The thought of facing him again, of seeing the pain and longing in his eyes, was both terrifying and exhilarating.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, as if Joel were considering his response. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice filled with determination. "Then open your door," he said simply.

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the weight of the decision pressing down on you like a heavy burden. You walked over to the door and turned the handle, pulling it open slowly. There, standing on the other side, was Joel, his gaze filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

For a moment, neither of you spoke; the weight of everything left unsaid was hanging heavy in the air. Then, finally, Joel stepped forward, closing the distance between you.

You held each other's gaze for a long moment, the silence between you speaking volumes. Then, without a word, Joel reached out. Without a word, Joel reached out and gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His gaze locked with yours, filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in a tender kiss. In that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you suspended in time.

The kiss was soft at first and tentative, as if both of you were afraid to fully give in to the overwhelming emotions swirling between you. But then, as the warmth of his lips met yours, something shifted, and the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and more passionate.

It was as if all the longing and desire that had been building between you for so long finally found release in that single moment of connection. You melted into his embrace, your arms wrapping around him as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

As your lips parted, Joel looked into your eyes with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. His voice was filled with sincerity as he spoke, and his words were a heartfelt confession of his love for you.

"I love you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper but resonating with a depth of feeling that echoed through the room. "I have always loved you, from the moment you opened the door. You've been in my thoughts every day, in every moment. I can’t just pretend I want a life without you in it.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his words, the weight of his confession washing over you like a wave of emotion. All the doubts and uncertainties melted away in the warmth of his love, leaving only the undeniable truth of your connection.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it," Joel continued, his voice filled with regret. "I was scared of losing you and of facing my own feelings. But now, I know that I can't live without you. You're the missing piece of my heart, the one I've been searching for all along."

You wrapped your arms tightly around Joel, pulling him close and burying your face in the crook of his neck. His warmth enveloped you, comforting and familiar, as if you were finally coming home after a long journey.

Tears of relief and joy streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the scent of his cologne. In his arms, you felt safe, loved, and understood in a way you had never experienced before.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like I did," he sobbed, not letting you go from his hold. "I felt I stabbed myself in the heart that day. God, when I read that letter...

"Do you remember the night we met? When you went to-“ You began.

"Your house with Sarah, yes. Of course I do," he continued for you.

"I lied to you that night."

His eyebrows furrowed at the words. 

"I said I had you come back home, but in fact I was going on a date with my boyfriend.”

"Did you have a

"Yes, he was a sweetheart, and I stood him up for my neighbor that night.”

"Why did you love me back then?"

You didn't reply; no words were enough for that.

"This whole time without you, God has been... miserable," he said.  "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like I did."

You reached up, gently brushing away the tears that streaked his cheeks. "I forgive you, Joel," you whispered, your voice filled with love and understanding. "I forgive you because I know that your heart was always in the right place, even if your actions didn't always reflect that."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes searching for yours for reassurance. "I love you," he said softly, his voice trembling with sincerity. "I've loved you from the moment I met you, and I'll love you for the rest of my days."

Tears welled up in your own eyes as you felt the weight of his words sink in. "I love you too, Joel," you replied, your voice filled with conviction. "More than words can express."

Joel leaned in and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a tender and passionate kiss, filled with years of longing and unspoken love.

Wrapped up in each other's arms, you felt a sense of completeness that you hadn't experienced in a long time. Every touch and every caress was a silent affirmation of the love that had endured despite the trials and tribulations you had faced.

As you deepened the kiss, your hearts beat as one, a symphony of love and passion that echoed through the room. It was a moment of pure bliss, a reminder that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had each other, you could overcome anything.

taglist 💌: @immywonderdefender @sarahhxx03 @powellssaturn @ifall4dilfs @harriedandharassed @skysmiller @missladym1981 @brittmb115 @guelyury @heartpascalispunk @ashleyfilm @loveisacowboyyy @southernbe @pedroloml

[cheenapri]

Transactional [Yandere Illumi Zoldyck x Reader]

Day two + three

Summary: It is now day two (and three) of the trip and you are very adamant on ruining the experience; Illumi doesn’t take too kindly to that.

Word count: 14k

Notes: yandere, kidnapping, gender neutral reader, unhealthy relationships, unbalanced power dynamics, mentions of past abuse, Illumi tweaks tf out, lots of arguing, reader is a huge brat and gets put in their place

Day one Day four + five Day ???

Taglist: @lilyalone @yamekocatt

Something feels off.

You’re reluctant to leave your workplace once again, staring out the window and into the shadowy abyss before you. There were a few parked cars and the road was lit up with flickering street lights, making it look like something out of a horror movie. Those lights have been broken for some time now; they should really consider fixing those. 

You worked overtime again, wanting the extra funds so you could join your friends at an upcoming concert. You originally had no intentions of going, figuring it wasn’t worth it since you didn’t care for the artist too much. They kept hyping it up, however, eventually making you give in and start working extra hours in order to pay for the expensive tickets. 

You didn’t know the consequence of doing so would be encounters with crackheads after work. 

You bit your tongue. You shouldn’t have declined that ride from your coworker earlier, but you wanted to take a quick trip to the grocery store and didn’t wish to inconvenience them further. You did have your own car, but it was at the shop at the moment as something mysteriously damaged the engine and rendered it unable to start. This forced you to walk to and from work for the last week. You sigh, your hand hesitating for a moment before you pull on the door handle and step out into the crisp night. 

It’s rather quiet.

You cautiously look around before you begin speed walking; taking a brand new route despite how unconventional it was. Unfortunately, they always seem to find you no matter what.

Not even five minutes have passed before a taxi beeps and pulls up next to you, the driver’s movements stiff and puppet-like, his eyes vacant as he smiles creepily at you. 

“It’s d-dark out… n-n-need a ride?” his speech was somewhat slurred.

This was the fourth time this week a taxi had summoned itself, the driver attempting to coerce you to hop in. You glare at him, pace quickening even further as you look for a way out, your hand slowly gripping the switchblade hidden within your coat pocket. 

“It’s f-f-free of charge… just w-wanted to m-m-make sure you go-got h-home safe… You have s-s-someone waiting for you?” he says, still slurring. 

It was always the exact same stuttered lines: state that it’s dark, ask if you need a ride, state that it’s free of charge, pretend to be concerned about you, then ask if there’s someone waiting for you.

You felt as though you were in some sort of simulation; to say it freaked you out was an understatement. 

“I’m calling the police.” you say as you bring your phone out and dial the emergency service. If he were following the same script as the others, calling the police would cause him to drive off.

He doesn’t though, he must be going off script today. 

He lingers far longer than the others have, driving as slow as your quick walking speed, jittering and jerking the steering wheel to avoid running into parked cars, expression in an almost trance-like state as he keeps his smile. He doesn’t react to you telling the dispatcher about your current situation, slowing the taxi even further when you try to linger behind it in order to give them the license plate. 

“Do you h-have any… romantic interests?” he asks, the sheer audacity of this question caused your jaw to drop slightly. When you fail to answer in a timely manner, he keeps going. “W-What about exes? Do you… have any of those?”

You sneer at him once you finish giving his description and your current location to the operator. The person on the phone sounds a bit indifferent as they inform you that a police car is on the way and that you should try to move to a more populated area. 

“You live alone… d-don’t you?” 

You hadn’t even realized he was still talking. 

“Fuck off!” you shout at him, tightening your grip on the switchblade. You were beyond tired of dealing with these creeps. What did they want with you? You glare at him, eyes catching the gold piercing on the left side of his head — a strange place for a piercing.

Right as you were getting ready to bolt, a cop car suddenly pulled up; it’s red and blue lights causing the taxi to speed off into the night. It came unnaturally quick, but you didn’t think about that fact. You were already frantically recounting what had just happened before the male officer could even get out of the car, clearly distressed and completely forgetting about the dispatcher still on the phone. They soon hang up when the officer informs them through his radio that he’s arrived.  

He took your statement after calming you down and offered to give you a ride to the grocery store as you were still insistent on going. Your heart rate slowed once you reached the safety of the store, the presence of other, hopefully normal, people gave you a sense of relief. Rubbing your temples as you enter the store, you take your time gathering your items, picking up a few extra snacks to help relieve your stress. 

You call an Uber to pick you up as you don't want to walk home anymore, the driver was a kind older woman who advised you against being out so late despite its hypocrisy. You rushed inside once you reached home, your dog greeting you with a wiggly dance and tappy paws.

Something still felt off. 

You won’t be working overtime anymore, you’d have to cancel those concert plans. You sigh as you kick off your shoes and place your purchases on the counter. 

Your dog whines.

You walk over to the back door and open it, watching as they cautiously step out and quickly relieve themself before practically running back in, their fur standing on edge.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as you crouch down to pet them, trying to soothe them of their worries as well as your own. Your paranoia made you think the taxi driver was out there.

They only whined again, large eyes staring at you before darting to the living room window, their tail no longer wagging. You stand up and go to wash your hands, hoping they’re just hearing the neighbor or some critter of the night passing by.

You make dinner, giving yourself and your pup something gracious to comfort the both of you before starting your nightly routine. 

Your dog is growling at something. 

You step out of the bathroom and head downstairs, confusion on your face as you watch them pace back and forth from the living room window to the kitchen window.

You head to the back door, hoping letting them out to investigate would calm their nerves. Opening the door only seemed to make it worse, however, as they began barking, tail tucked between their legs as they backed away from you. 

Concerned, you decide to call the police again. You’d been calling them since your second encounter with the taxi drivers, your fears never being dealt with, the officers doing nothing but telling you that they’ll “take your statement and check for the taxi around the neighborhood” and to “call back if something happens.”

You’ll be found dead if this keeps up.

A female officer and her male partner arrive and you immediately explain your earlier encounter, telling them about the weird questions you’d been asked, the driver trailing you for a whole block, and the other police officer taking your statement. 

“Could you check around my house? My dog has been on edge since I got home and I’m afraid he followed me here.” you plead, not sure you’d be able to sleep tonight if they didn’t give you a peace of mind. 

They agree to check, leaving you anxiously waiting by the front door with your pup by your side. After a few minutes, you faintly hear a slight commotion, causing your heart to drop and your dog to bark. 

You continue to stand there, unsure of what to do. After a few more moments, the doorbell rings. You’re slow to open it, only sighing in relief when you see it’s the officers once again. They appear to be fine, though they look sluggish all of a sudden. The female officer informs you that it was just a raccoon hiding within the old grill out back, her words slurring and her eyes droopy.

“Oh?” you nervously chuckle, eyebrows wrinkled with worry. “Was that all?”

“Yeah… it was j-just a biggg raccoon… We’ll take your s-statement and ch-check for taxis around the n-n-neighborhood… C-Call back… if something… happens.”

There goes that exact same line again. As they slowly turn around and begin to leave, something within the female police officer’s hair reflects the porch light for the briefest of moments. You’re confused and shut the door immediately. Your hands are on your hips as you look down at your dog, worry still on your face. You let out a huff, choosing to return to your nightly routine as there wasn’t much else you could really do right now. 

Your dog has quieted down as the night progressed, much to your relief. They haven’t barked for a few hours now and slept peacefully at your feet in the living room. You’ve been talking with your friends, getting their advice about the whole situation and agreeing that you needed to find a better place to live. You hang up the call after a while and look down at the fuzzy creature by your feet. You give them one final pat before heading off to your bedroom upstairs, turning off the lights as you make your way up. 

You leave your bedroom door slightly cracked in case your dog chooses to come up and sleep on your rug. You glance over at the window — the moonlight seeps into the room, perfectly illuminating your face. 

It’s rather quiet.

You don’t know how long you’ve spent laying in bed, scaring yourself as you think about today’s   events, but you eventually fall asleep. Maybe tomorrow you could start looking for a new place to live. 

…

Something feels off.

You’re awoken, a bit groggy as you wipe your eyes. It’s still dark outside. How long were you asleep for? You give your eyes a few moments to adjust to the darkness, turning over on your right side.

…

Your heart jumps into your throat, all traces of tiredness instantly leave your body as you stare up in horror at the featureless, black figure standing next to your bed. 

“Don’t scream and I won’t kill you.” it warns.

Your breath hitches, you couldn’t scream even if you wanted to. What the hell is that? You scoot away from it, nearly falling off the bed in the process. 

You swallow hard, “What are yo-“

“Be quiet.” its voice was low and smooth, a complete contradiction from its appearance. “You really love making my job harder, don’t you? Why couldn’t you just get in the car the first time, hm?”

You don’t answer. Your heart was beating rapidly. You can’t read its expression, all you see is it’s big, black eyes looking down at you. You couldn’t make out any attributes of the figure, it was like one big, black blur in an almost humanoid shape. 

A few moments of silence pass as it simply stares at you, as if thinking about something, the room slowly filling with a black mist. Your eyes quickly dart to your bedroom window then back at the monstrous entity. Maybe if you’re fast enough, you could jump out the window-

“Don’t even think about it.” it takes a single step toward you. “Things will go much smoother for you if you come with me willingly. If you so choose to be obnoxious, however, I will knock you out. You have five seconds to decide what you’ll do.”

“Y-you better leave this house right now, or else I’ll call the police!” your stuttering foiled your already awful bluff. It was close enough to do whatever it wanted to you before you could even reach for your phone. What the hell was the police supposed to do about this thing anyway?

It only tilts its head, large eyes staring eerily at you. After a few moments of silence, it finally spoke, “Very well.”

You scream as it charges at you, blacking out instantly as the black mist completely engulfs the room.

.

.

.

You scream and flail your arms as if you were being attacked, eyes shooting wide open in the process. Your breathing is heavy like you’d just ran a marathon; sweat beads form on your forehead. It takes a couple seconds for you to calm down, coming to the realization that it was only a nightmare. 

A nightmare regarding a memory rather.

Your breath is shaky as you sit up on your elbow, leaning over the side of the bed. You felt nauseous, anxiety bubbling within you as you tried to control it. You look up towards the bathroom door, then towards the TV in front of the bed, then finally towards the man sitting upright behind you.

Looks like you’re still in a nightmare.

You let out a frustrated groan, throwing yourself back onto the bed and covering your face with your hands. In your daze, you had forgotten where you were, only to be harshly reminded upon locking eyes with Illumi. 

“Good morning.” Illumi starts with his typical flat tone, observant of your quick shift from disorientation to exasperation. “Are you comfortable?”

“In a way.” you mumble, closing your eyes as you try to fall back asleep. You didn’t feel like having to deal with him first thing in the morning. 

He continues regardless, “You sound uncertain.”

“The bed is comfortable, yes.” you mumble yet again.

“But there is something you’re uncomfortable with, right?”

It’s him.

You let out another groan as you knew he’d keep questioning you, wanting you to explain all of your answers in explicit detail while not understanding your point behind them. You take a second to stretch before propping yourself up on your elbow once again and looking back at him.

You were skeptical about this unusual attitude of his, thinking it was a new manipulation tactic he’d randomly thought of trying. You’re curious as to how long he’d let you push him over, though.

“Were you watching me sleep all night?” you ask. Your tone hinted at a bit of annoyance which caused Illumi to tilt his head slightly.

He admits casually, “Yeah.” 

If there’s one thing you appreciated about Illumi, it was his honesty. His ability to nonchalantly admit to anything he was willing to answer both amazed and frightened you. 

“No wonder I had a nightmare.” you say, looking away from him. It took everything in you to say something so blunt, so confidently. 

Illumi doesn’t respond, confused by your sudden shift in attitude. You’d just woken up and you were already trying his patience. He keeps his attention on you, watching as you throw the blankets off and slide out of bed. You stretch yet again, back turned to him as you do so. 

“I’m hungry.” you state in an almost entitled tone.

“I’ll tell them to begin preparing breakfast now. You should freshen up in the meantime.” 

You take a deep breath. “Are you dictating what outfit I’m wearing today as well?”

Again, Illumi doesn’t respond — you turn to look when you hear the bed creak, a tad bit worried he was on his way to rip your head off. You knew you wouldn’t even have time to react if he was, though. 

He slowly walks to the wardrobe, shuffling through it for a moment before retrieving an outfit. You notice that he’s already dressed, he must’ve gotten ready while you were sleeping then hopped back into bed so he could continue staring at you.

What a creep.

The outfit was catered to your taste, but it clearly had a touch of his inspiration written on it from how… tight fitting… it appeared to be. You look at the outfit with disdain, allowing your facial features to tell him just how you felt about it. 

He’s indifferent to your scornful look, however, only staring back as he waits for you to take the outfit. He wasn’t changing his mind about this. You’re reluctant but you snatch the clothes from him, nearly stomping into the bathroom. 

The outfit turned out to be more tight fitting than you had anticipated. You hate him. 

You eventually come out of the bathroom, ignoring the way Illumi’s head immediately turned in your direction, and move to sit on the lounge chair.

He was on the phone, presumably calling the butlers to prepare today’s events — eyes still lingering on you as he spoke with them. He hangs up after a minute, fully turning to look at you. 

“That outfit looks great on you.”

You look away from him, eyebrows furrowed. “It doesn’t need to be so snug.”

“It suits you.”

“Of course YOU like it.” you roll your eyes at him, quickly getting tired of his ogling.

He takes a moment to eye you further before speaking, “Let’s go.”

You follow him out of the room and down the hall, that surreal feeling from last night returning once again. As you walk into the main section of the hotel, you instantly notice a huge lack of butlers. 

“Where did everyone go?” you ask, still looking around for other souls. 

“I told them to stay out of view since you have a tendency to stare.” he simply states, staring forward as he leads you down the halls.

You scoff at him. If anyone had a tendency to stare, it was him since his unblinking eyes never seemed to leave you. It was perspicuous that he didn’t want last night’s dinner experience to take place again, only wanting your attention on him and him only. 

“You know,” you suddenly speak up, voice a bit louder than usual, “If you truly want my opinion on things, l'd say you’re failing in terms of atmosphere. It's not normal for a place as busy as a hotel or a restaurant to be so devoid of other people, it makes it feel as though you and I are having a standoff.”

Illumi doesn’t acknowledge your comment right away, only continuing to stare forward as he attempts to process your audacious attitude. You already knew why he was doing it like this: he wanted to keep you away from what he deemed as “distractions.” you were smart enough to recognize and deflect his manipulative tactics to the best of your ability, which is how you’ve managed to retain your sanity for this long. 

You know he loves you — obsessed rather — although incapable of expressing it in a healthy manner. He arrogantly assumed you'd reciprocate the feeling with time and some gentle conditioning, but you never did out of spite, preventing yourself from falling for him as a way of fighting back. Not that you could fall for him anyway. He was far too rough with you, especially when he first brought you to the estate. He didn’t know how to handle someone so fragile, breaking your wrist when you swung on him and crushing your throat when you cursed at him. 

It took a while before you found out why he’d taken you, connecting the dots when he casually mentioned one day that he felt drawn to you before summarizing the five months he spent stalking you. He referred to you as his spouse once, but you were more of an experiment to him in the beginning, his feelings towards you cementing as time went on, confirming to him that he was indeed in love with you. You took advantage of that to the best of your ability, enticing him occasionally, giving him a false sense of your affections when you really wanted to avoid punishment, even if it didn’t always work out in your favor. 

“You’ve woken up in a bad mood, you’re just being grumpy.” Illumi finally responds.

“I’m not being grumpy. You may be used to being alone, but I’m not. For me, the lack of people takes away from the experience, it makes it hard to focus.”

Illumi swiftly glanced down at you before looking forward again, expression remaining neutral. You were dancing around the subject, hiding your true intentions under the guise of helping him improve the atmosphere. 

“I see, but I don’t think exposing you to the public would be ideal.”

“Ideal for yo-”

“Ideal for us.” he corrected, putting emphasis on the word “us.” 

Your attempts at persuading him into taking you somewhere more public wasn’t working, in fact, you were only succeeding in annoying him. Perhaps you were being too ambitious right now. 

“Surely not.” you mumble mainly to yourself, folding your arms as the two of you continue to make your way through the hotel. 

You reach the restaurant and sit at the same table, last night’s rose petals and candles still present. The butlers were nowhere in sight and there was a partition put up to block your view of the chefs. The glass wall was also covered with a thin drape, allowing light in but not see-through enough to give you a clear view of the people below.

Pay attention to him. 

“So uh,” you begin, feeling awkward as you try to get used to his direct staring once again, “what are we doing today?”

“We’re doing what I’ve planned.” Illumi states, not elaborating.

You attempt to pry for more details. “Could you be more specific?” 

“No.”

What a jerk. 

Despite the day just starting, the two of you were already getting on each other’s nerves. Since you can’t look out the window to distract yourself, you ultimately decided you would interrogate him in an attempt to fully understand the situation you were in. 

You take a long, deep breath before speaking. “You know,” you start, looking directly into his eyes, “I’m curious to know what made you decide to do all of this, did you watch some cheesy romance movie or did someone give you the idea?”

…

After a few moments of silence, Illumi slowly blinks at you. This was the first time you’ve seen him blink, mainly because you tend to avoid eye contact with him. He was caught off guard by how you directly questioned him, your bold confidence as interesting as it was concerning. 

“I was not inspired by anything. This is a simple product of my own ideas.” he stated, eyebrows slightly raised.

That’s doubtful, though you knew he wasn’t lying. 

“I see… men in romance movies typically don’t kidnap their partner, it was foolish of me to think you’d be inspired by that. Perhaps you were inspired by a horror movie?” it was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye contact as you spoke, trying your best not to react to his silent indicators screaming at you to shut your mouth. You’d already dug yourself a hole, however, may as well keep digging. “Tell me, what inspired you?”

He’s glaring at you now, slight but noticeable. 

“Like I said, there’s no outside inspiration. I chose to do things this way on my own volition.”

“And that’s exactly why I described it as the ‘typical Illumi experience.’ it’s empty, devoid of life, and unnerving.” you say boldly.

His glare disappears, his neutral expression returning as he slowly tilts his head to the side. 

“‘Empty, devoid of life, and unnerving,’” he repeats slowly, “quite a descriptive set of words. Is it truly that way for you?”

“Yeah, I thought I made that clear by now.”

He straightened himself, blinking slowly once again. “It’s unfortunate to hear you see it that way.” 

His voice feigned politeness, turning his attention to the food now being brought to the table. The presence of the butlers doesn’t stop you from retorting, however.

“I gave you a clear solution to help you improve but since you’re so focused on isolating me, you won’t hear it.” you narrow your eyes at him. He doesn’t respond until the butlers have left the room entirely. 

“Is your solution to see other people?” he finally responds in an almost sarcastic tone.

You hated the way he worded that. 

“Yes, the place is empty.”

“It’s not empty, we’re here.”

“We are two people.”

“The butlers and hotel staff are here.”

“Paying guests,” you were becoming annoyed with his intentional stupidity. “people from all walks of life who just want to enjoy some time at the hotel with us. You know what I meant.”

“You should eat before it gets cold.” he looks down, picking up a fork and beginning his unnatural eating habits. You don’t heed his indirect warning to drop the subject, however. 

You continue, “Tell me why you won’t.” 

He doesn’t even look up at you, pretending you hadn’t even said a word.

You speak again, determined to keep going until he gives you an answer. “Give me a reason.” 

“Drop it.” he replies after finishing his plate.

“I won’t until you give me a reason!”

“The reason I chose not to have people here should be evident.”

“And it should be evident as to why your little date with me is a waste of time! You refuse to listen to me at all!”

Illumi is silent. He didn’t like your tone. Your words got to him more than it should and he couldn’t understand why. He was doing everything he could to make this date go smoothly and you were doing everything you could to make sure it wouldn’t.

He didn’t like how aware you were — how aware of him you were. You should have given into Stockholm syndrome months ago, yet here you were forcing him to actually try to earn your affections. Him. A professional assassin who was raised for the sole purpose of killing, whose soul was filled with nothing but darkness. You had made it clear that he could rip you away from your past life, torment you, and force you to go out with him, but he couldn’t force you to love him. Genuinely at least.

Illumi wondered if he should even continue trying…

No. He’d put too much effort into this to call it off. You were just looking for a reaction, that’s it. 

The thought that you wouldn’t be resentful had he taken a healthier approach to your relationship does not cross his mind. In fact, his mind is clear as he gazes upon you, no emotion present on his features. 

You slowly began to eat once it was apparent the topic wasn’t up for discussion anymore. At least the food was good, even if it failed to distract you from the near deadly tension in the air. His presence felt more suffocating than normal, though he wasn’t releasing aura, causing you to quickly eat just so you could get out of here sooner.

He makes no move to stand nor does he speak once you finish, making you awkwardly sit before him a little longer. This was your fault. You should’ve just shut your mouth. The effects of his staring was taking its toll on you the longer you sat there. 

“What’s the plan? Are we going back to Kukuroo Mountain now?” you ask. As much as you hate being in that room, you’d prefer your solidarity over this.

Illumi doesn’t reply, only turning his head slightly before standing and beginning to walk out of the restaurant. He didn’t feel the need to explain anything to you, leaving you to figure it out through his actions. You considered staying seated, but ultimately got up to follow him, knowing that’s what he expected of you. 

You trail slightly behind him as he leads you out of the hotel and into the parking lot, a black Mercedes truck parked just outside the entrance. He opens the passenger side door and just looks at you, not even bothering to give you a verbal command or even a gesture. You stare at him for a moment, wanting to irritate him, before climbing inside and buckling yourself up. 

You stare at the hotel as he walks around and hops into the driver’s seat. He soon begins driving. He appears to have a destination in mind, not Kukuroo Mountain as he’s driving opposite of when you were first taken to the hotel. 

He’s not a quitter, unfortunately. 

He was taking you to a grand mall, one he, of course, cleared out. He still wanted to please you despite your earlier ungratefulness, or so he convinced himself.

The ride was soundless. He chose not to turn on the radio. His eyes unmoving as he stared straight ahead, left hand on the wheel while his right hand sat dangerously close to you on the armrest. 

There were a few more Mercedes trucks within the mall’s parking lot; you could see there were butlers inside as Illumi drove past them, the pink haired butler from yesterday making direct eye contact with you through the windshield of her car. He parked, glancing at you for a brief moment before moving to open the driver’s door. 

He climbed out of the car while you stayed put, you watched as he circled around the front to come open your door. You wished the car had magically started itself and ran him over. You take your time unbuckling yourself, sighing before taking his hand as he “assisted” you out of the truck. 

He led you inside the mall, stopping once you reached the middle of the food court. It was completely empty, just as you’d guessed. You look around as he stands there, staring down at you. Your uncomfortableness is evident as you awkwardly shift your weight and fiddle with the hem of your shirt. 

“You’re free to begin shopping.” Illumi finally stated, giving you the go ahead. 

You gave a quiet “oh” before looking ahead, hesitant to take a step. You genuinely didn’t even feel like moving, not wanting to participate in his plan to keep the date going. Eventually you begin walking, figuring since you were here, you’d get some stuff to entertain yourself with back at the estate. You felt no interest in visiting clothing or jewelry stores considering Illumi would police when you wore whatever you got.

“This is so ominous.” you mumble, hands in your pockets as you walk through the food court and into the main shopping section of the mall. You were curious to know how Illumi did it, how he was able to almost completely clear out all of these places. Did he strike a deal with the owner? Did he kill them and take over the place? You turn towards Illumi, “How come all these big places are so empty? What did you do?”

“Does it matter?” his response was quicker than you’d anticipated. He didn’t appear to be upset though, maybe you could pry some details out of him.

“Did you kill the owner or something?” you look back at him as you’re trailing ahead slightly, his eyes meet yours for a moment before looking forward again.

“That would’ve been the cheapest route, but no.” Illumi admits. “I didn’t kill them.”

“So what did you do?”

Illumi is silent for a moment, as if contemplating something. He then says, “I rented the place for a period of time.”

“You rented this entire mall?!”

“I did. For two hours to be exact, so make the most of it.”

He chose to humor your questions. Good.

Your pace is slow as you walk, taking note of how certain stores were closed down. The accessible stores contained a couple butlers and a store clerk, the butlers standing directly in front of the checkout as if trying to block your view of the clerk. You continue to peer inside but make no effort to actually enter any of the stores. 

You tried to the best of your ability to ignore Illumi’s looming presence behind you, finally entering a store that caught your eye. It was a store that sold adult craft projects ranging from diamond art, to crochet, to even DIY houses similar to the greenhouse you had. 

You quickly look around. You felt invisible, but under a microscope at the same time. The clerk looking down from what you could see of them, the butlers occasionally glancing at you with their stoic expressions but ignored your presence for the most part, and, of course, Illumi gazing directly into your soul. Examining a diamond art kit, you check the price tag out of habit.

“You shouldn’t worry about the tags.” Illumi’s voice scared you a bit despite how gentle it was. 

He’s right. You shouldn’t worry about the price tags. 

You grab as much as you can hold, almost considering buying out the entire store, but not wanting to be questioned as to why you wanted ten of the exact same craft. 

As you approach the checkout with the items in hand, the two butlers gently take them from you and proceed to purchase on your behalf.

You stand and stare at them while they do their job, Illumi placing a hand on your shoulder and nudging you back, “You don’t have to wait for them to finish.” Illumi spoke as he watched the butlers. “We can go to the next store now.” 

You don’t respond to him, side stepping out of his hold and walking out of the store. As you enter a video game store, you purchase, or rather the butlers purchased, several games, most of which you’ll probably never even play but interests you enough to grab. You’ve kept your back turned towards Illumi the whole time, a privilege only a select few could enjoy, wanting to keep him out of your line of sight as much as possible. 

“You’re acting strange.” he stated as he followed you out of the store, “Is something wrong?”

“I’m just trying to enjoy myself.” you said, head lowered as you walked.

“You’re deliberately avoiding me.”

You stare down at your feet for a few moments before responding, “You're like an entity that only I can see whose sole purpose is to haunt me.” your tone was indifferent as you continued to stare down, an echo accompanying your footsteps while silence accompanied his own. “I feel like you're not even real and I’m just hallucinating.”

Illumi didn’t understand what it was you were talking about, and neither did you really, his eyebrows slightly raised as he fully turned his head to face you. 

“I’m very much real.”

“That’s the issue.” you close your eyes for a moment, swallowing hard. Which was truly better? A real person tormenting you or a hallucination tormenting you? Illumi had no words for your comment — he turned to face forward again, eyes leaving you for much longer than they ever had since you entered the mall. “I don’t even know why you’re dragging this out, it was doomed from the start.”

He’s quick to respond, “Was it? Or are you just intent on being difficult?”

You can sense a ping of his aura, causing you not to respond further. You stop walking, you’re now at the far end of the mall standing next to the escalators. You watch the moving stairs for a bit before looking up into the skylight. 

The slight humming of the escalator was strangely comforting — the sun shone perfectly down upon you, bathing you in a warm light. You looked down at your feet once more; you felt like crying. The nostalgic feelings you were trying desperately to repress were becoming too much to bear. 

Illumi watches, studying your strange behavior as you stand there with your eyes closed.

“What are you doing?” Illumi asked after watching you for almost a full minute. 

You consider ignoring him, but you can still sense him releasing the tiniest amount of aura.

“A skylight in my room would be nice.” 

“Your room is underground.” Illumi stated matter-of-factly. His response was quick, almost as if he’d predicted you’d say something like that.

“You’re more than capable of giving me a room above ground then installing a skylight.”

“I am.” he gave you a subtle side eye. He indeed had more than enough funds to make your new room, he just didn’t like the thought of giving you one. He assumed it would give you ideas, ideas he didn’t want to have to severely punish you for. 

“So do it.” you open your eyes and look at him, meeting his black, empty ones. 

“Your current room is sufficient enough.” he retorts.

“I like natural light, Illumi.” 

His aura is no longer present, his shoulders dropped slightly. He continued nonetheless, “You can survive without sunlight.”

He won't budge on your request. He saw nothing wrong with keeping you in a windowless room and having you take vitamin D supplements. This was normal to him after all. 

“Anytime I request something that would genuinely make me happy, you dismiss it immediately.”

“Your requests tend to be quite ridiculous.”

“But renting a mall isn’t?!” your voice was getting loud, you were frustrated with him. “You’d rather spend all that extra money on bullshit than something that would actually make me happy?!” 

“This date was supposed to make you happy. In fact, everything I do is for your well-being.” Illumi spoke slowly, making sure to look you dead in the eyes as he said this.

Despite your outburst, Illumi remained stoic. Not a trace of annoyance or even irritation within him, he was completely neutral.

Deep breath in, hold it, breathe out slowly.

You turn on your heel, walking past him and back towards the food court. You stop near the exit doors, peering out the glass and into the parking lot. 

“I’m done shopping.” you were beyond finished with this. 

You wish he never came up with this pathetic little date idea and just left you back at the estate. You hated the constant mind battles between the two of you; you were mentally exhausted and just wanted time away from him to reset, preferably the rest of your life. 

“We’ve been here for thirty-five minutes. We have about another hour and twenty-five minutes to shop.” he says casually. You don’t respond, only glaring at him before looking out into the parking lot once again. His eyes continue to linger on you. “You should shop some more.”

It was clear it wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. 

“Save your money-” you attempt to argue, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t worry about my money. I’m telling you to continue shopping.” he spoke, signaling he was slowly becoming a bit irritated despite his very, very calm expression. 

“I already got what I wanted.” you glare at him again.

You knew exactly what you were doing. You were intentionally rushing so you could leave sooner and waste the money he’d used to rent the mall.

He was aware of this. 

“Do you not know how to enjoy yourself at a mall? I’m giving you a great privilege here.”

“It’s hard to enjoy a mall under these circumstances.”

“You’re just being difficult.” Illumi retorted, trying to make it seem as if your unhappiness was your own cause. 

“That’s NOT-”

“Watch your tone.” his voice sounded menacing, causing you to shut your mouth immediately.

His aura returned, his patience was running thin. You’re quiet for a moment, glancing out into the parking lot and daringly taking another step towards the doors.

“Can…” your voice is low as you speak, “can we just go back to Kukuroo-“

“Let’s continue shopping.” Illumi cuts you off once again.

You’re not daring enough to take another step, let alone actually make your way through those doors, as much as you want to. You continue to stand there despite Illumi’s request. Would you even be able to open the door before he grabbed you?

Your question was unfortunately answered when he moved swiftly and stood directly in front of you, basically teleporting before you. He cupped your face just as fast in a firm, almost tight hold, forcing you to look up at him. His hands were surprisingly warm.

“(Name).” he’d drawn out your name in a sickeningly soft tone, his eyes failing to match the gentleness of his voice. It was a sight you didn’t want to behold. You step back, to which he lets go, and turn to proceed back into the main shopping section. His eyes linger on you before he clapped his hands together once, all traces of aura instantly vanishing. “I’m glad you’ve decided to enjoy this experience further, (Name).” his voice was still soft, almost cheerful as he followed close behind you. 

Your heart is still beating rapidly as you walk through the mall, slowly taking your time exploring each of the stores. You don’t buy anything though, you were simply staring at the merchandise as if they were artifacts in a museum. Illumi starts pointing out things you’d like, or rather things he’d like on you, when you fail to make a purchase after the third store. 

Only an hour remaining.

You began staring at items for far too long, attempting to shave off as much time as possible, ignoring Illumi when he asked if it was something you wanted. He bought them anyway so it didn’t matter. He began purchasing anything you stared at, annoyed but not commenting on your stubborn attitude.

Only thirty minutes remaining.

As you walk the halls, you choose to stop and examine a statue you’ve passed at least three times. Illumi stands awfully close to you.

“You’re testing my patience, (Name).” he says. You don’t feel his aura, thankfully, but you knew you were pushing him too far.

“I don’t know what you want-”

“You know exactly what I want.” he slowly brought his hand to rest on your shoulder. You don’t sense any hints of mischief behind it, but you knew better than to trust it. “I thought this would’ve been a nice way for us to bond, but, of course, you’re obstinate.”

“Bond?” you ask, voice somewhat soft from the threat of his hand on you.

“Yes.”

“How?” you asked. Despite being held captive for months, you still fail to fully understand how Illumi thinks. You can feel his grip on you tighten slightly before resting once again.

“We bond whenever we are with each other, that’s how it works.”

You’re too tired to correct him, not that he’d understand anyway. “Tell me,” you start, “what is the purpose of this, Illumi?”

“This is the second time you’ve asked me this.”

“You never answered why you’re doing this, you only stated you weren’t inspired by anything and chose to do this on your own free will. I’m asking you why you’re doing this.”

Illumi is quiet for a few seconds before responding, “I wanted to spend time with you, that’s all.”

“Really?” you questioned.

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” you brought your hand up to your chin, trying to think of a possible ulterior motive. There was definitely more to this, but you couldn’t think of what it was. 

Only twenty-seven minutes remaining. 

“We don’t have much time left here. I believe it would be wise for you to do what I expect of you.” Illumi states as he removes his hand from your shoulder.

You go along with it, just wanting to get it over without being overwhelmed by Illumi. 

One minute remaining.

You half assed the last twenty-six minutes of shopping, but it was good enough for Illumi. He didn’t complain, or speak at all really, as he watched you hand the butlers random items you’ve picked up.

Once that was done, he led you outside and back into the truck, a weight being lifted off your shoulders when you felt the wind blow against your skin.

You didn’t bother asking him about the next location, knowing he wouldn’t tell you. He put on some music this time; he must be feeling better. 

Your tiredness instantly evaporated once you realized he was driving into the city, other Zoldyck trucks joining and forming a motorcade around the two of you. 

The car comes to a stop on an empty street, your eyes scan the butlers standing guard, locking on the pink haired one for a split second, before moving to the blockades blocking off side streets. Illumi does his chivalry deed before walking you towards the bus stop. 

Your head doesn’t stop swiveling, turning towards the buildings, to the lake, to the butlers, to the birds pecking at the ground, to the approaching bus. 

“Is this a tour bus?” you ask, instantly recognizing it as you’d been on one with your friends before. 

“Yes.” he responds flatly. 

As the bus pulls up, you get a good look at it. It was a big, red double decker bus, the windows a little too tinted to be legally owned by any company. You’re a little quick to climb inside once the doors open, it was empty aside from two butlers seated at the very back.

“Can we sit on the roof?” you ask, wanting to feel the breeze on your face but also wanting a vantage point to scout for other signs of life. 

“No. Sit here.” 

Illumi doesn’t offer any reasoning, only pointing to a row of seats on the right side of the bus. You take the window seat and Illumi sits next to you, caging you in.

Perhaps you should’ve let him take the window seat instead.

There’s a screen in front of you playing a pre recorded audio commentary as the ride begins, it was the only voice heard within the bus. Your heart sinks a little when you see people walking about and civilian cars waiting at intersections. It was a normal day for them. 

You look forward, then behind you, ignoring Illumi and the butlers’ curious eyes, as you confirm that the bus indeed was part of another motorcade. You slump slightly, looking out the window and at the curious faces of pedestrians completely unaware of what was going on. 

You had barely caught anything the audio commentary had explained about the various landmarks you’d passed, too busy reminiscing on past times to even care. The bus had done a full loop around the city, soon coming to a halt at the bus stop it picked you up from. 

Instead of walking you back to the truck, Illumi holds your hand, correctly this time as he didn’t give you time to freak out, and walks you to a nearby grassy area along the lakefront. His hold was a little tight.

There was a large blanket set out underneath a lone cherry blossom tree, Shiori setting down a singular basket, bowing to the both of you, then leaving. 

You both settled onto the blanket, Illumi sitting unreasonably close despite the vast amounts of space. You allowed yourself to relax a bit regardless, taking in the view of the lake mixed with the falling cherry blossom petals. You paid no mind to Illumi as he fumbled through the basket, using hand sanitizer but not offering you any.

He carefully unpacked the contents, laying out a meal too small to be enjoyed by two people. You silently glance over at it before looking forward again. The view was nice, various skyscrapers and buildings lined the horizon, and a few clouds decorated the big, blue sky. 

It was silent, you and Illumi haven’t spoken to each other since you got on the bus — it was better that way. Illumi savored your docile demeanor, content that you were finally relaxing around him for once. He wasn’t fixated on you surprisingly, only gazing upon the city view before him.

You’d sat there for about ten minutes, relaxing enough to shut your eyes as you envisioned yourself in another place, before Illumi finally spoke up, “Aren’t you going to eat something?”

You slowly opened your eyes, looking at the mini meal sprawled out on the blanket, then at the fork Illumi held tightly before closing them again. 

“No.” you said simply. This was a trap.

Illumi tilted his head as he looked at you. “Why not?” 

“Why aren’t you eating?” you question him instead. “You’ve been holding that fork for a while now, and yet you haven’t reached for anything.”

You were suspicious. This was a one person meal and Illumi was holding the only fork you could see yet made no move to use it. This could only mean one thing.

“This is for you. I’m not hungry.”

You sit upright. “Where are all the forks?”

“In my hand.” he stated nonchalantly. “What would you like to eat first?”

You were becoming nervous. “Just give me the fork.” you state, holding your hand out to him. 

“What would you like to eat first?” he repeats, looking down at the options before him and ignoring your hand.

“Please don’t do this to me.”

“You will eat the chicken Alfredo first.”

You retract your hand as he reaches for the chicken Alfredo, opening the container and allowing its savory scent to escape. You watch in horror as he collects a few noodles onto the fork and holds it up to you. 

His intentions were clear; he was going to feed you.

“I can feed myself.” 

“I know. Open your mouth.”

“Illumi-“

The fork was shoved into your mouth, the prongs hitting the back of your throat and causing you to choke. You cover your mouth when he pulls the fork out, coughing through your nose as you collect yourself from the sudden assault. At least the chicken Alfredo was good. 

“Hopefully you’ll listen this time. Come.” 

He scooped more noodles and chicken onto the fork, holding it out to you again. You glare at him before complying, allowing him to feed you gently this time. The cycle continues until the entire meal is gone, leaving only empty containers. 

He didn't say anything else once he was finished, but you noticed a slight smile on his otherwise expressionless face. He was happy. Very, very happy. 

Both of you sit in silence for a while, Illumi enjoying your presence and you ignoring his. Eventually he stands up, motioning for you to follow. He leads you back to the truck, performing an unneeded act of chivalry as he helps you inside, before pulling onto the road, the same Mercedes trucks driven by Zoldyck butlers surrounding the vehicle once more.

Illumi had one more activity planned for the day, one he was sure you’d love: a botanical garden. He had a slight smile on his face as he drove, eyes never leaving the road but he was definitely paying close attention to you. 

It took a short while, but he eventually reached his destination, quickly helping you out of the car before guiding you through the gates and into the garden. He seemed quite eager. The garden was huge, so he expected the both of you to be there for at least two hours, walking and analyzing all the different plants.

You were partially in higher spirits as you took in the different sights and smells, your facial features softening slightly. You were docile as you followed Illumi throughout the garden, engaging in conversation with him about all the different plants. He educated you on the purposes of different plants, ones that healed, ones that calmed, and ones that were extremely toxic but had a sweet, almost candy-like flavor. You don’t question him about that. 

He felt like he was truly bonding with you for once as you engaged with him. There wasn’t an ounce of negativity within you as you walked beside him, though you weren’t exactly beaming and doing heel clicks. You were calm; that was enough for him.

The sun had set and the moonlight bathed the garden in a white glow, fireflies fluttering about in the near darkness. You two had already begun the long walk back to the entrance a few minutes ago, silent as you listened to the chirping of numerous crickets and other critters. 

“It’s nice being able to enjoy nature like this.” Illumi stated as he stared ahead. 

“Yeah.” your tone was indifferent. “I used to go on walks like this all the time, but then something really unfortunate happened.”

“Hmm.”

Illumi only gave a simple hum in response, not wanting the mood to turn unpleasant so suddenly. Thankfully you didn’t say anything else to force an argument, quiet as he led you back to the entrance and into the car. 

The drive back was smooth, the only sounds being heard was the humming of the engine and the soft music coming from the radio. He takes you to the restaurant upon entering the hotel and dinner was just as quiet. You must be too tired to challenge him as you simply stare down at your plate. Good. He was finally able to enjoy a meal with you without getting a headache.

After dinner, he took you back to your shared suite, both of you showering before hopping into bed. You immediately roll onto your side, facing away from him as you try to escape into a deep sleep. He’s sat up in bed though, silently staring at you. 

The curtain covering the balcony door was partially opened, allowing the moonlight to flood the room and perfectly illuminate your figure. The sight causes him to reminisce for a moment.

“You were happier today —” Illumi spoke, voice a bit soft, “in the later half at least.” he’s silent for a moment as he thinks to himself. “I want to discuss something before you nod off.”

“Mhm.” you lazily hum.

You’d contemplated ignoring him in hopes he’d think you were sleeping, but you could count zero times that actually worked for you before. 

“Despite the rocky start… did you enjoy yourself today?”

He was seeking reassurance. He was being vulnerable. 

You’re in no rush to respond, allowing the silence to linger longer than he’d like. You think of all the different types of responses you could give him, ones that would please him enough to get him to shut up, ones that would severely upset him, and ones that would probably lead to him laying hands on you. 

“Would you enjoy doing your favorite things with someone who torments you?” you ask, ultimately deciding your answer would be up to Illumi. 

“So you enjoyed it? That’s good to hear.”

You don’t bother to correct him, knowing it would lead to a back and forth that would never conclude. 

Illumi, on the other hand, is completely satisfied, despite misinterpreting the true meaning behind your indirect answer. He was convinced that, ignoring your earlier defiance, today had been a total success and a step forward in the right direction. 

He’d only hoped he could make even more progress with you tomorrow.

.

Day three

.

Illumi rises very early, as he usually does, and gets himself ready for the day. His movements are silent as he walks about the suite, putting his clothes on, combing his hair, and more. He stands next to your side of the bed for a moment, gazing down upon your sleeping face and admiring your relaxed features.

He stares for way longer than he intended to before quietly making his way out the suite and to a secluded area. He makes a long phone call before returning to the suite and sliding back into bed, sitting upright as he stares at the blank TV.

You stir three hours later, yawning and stretching before sitting up. You wipe your eyes then look back at Illumi.

“Morning.” he greets.

“Hi.” your voice was softer than you meant it to be.

“Sleep well?”

“Mhm.”

You slide off the bed and head to the bathroom before he could ask you more pointless questions about how you slept. You complete your morning routine, taking a moment to stare at yourself in the mirror, before opening the bathroom door and standing in the doorway. Illumi slowly looks over at you. 

“When are we leaving?” you ask, wanting to limit the amount of time spent locked in an enclosed space with Illumi. 

“Whenever you’d like.” he responded simply.

You silently maintain eye contact with him for three seconds before making a request, “I want to pick my own outfit today, Illumi.”

Illumi taps his chin as if contemplating before sliding off the bed and heading toward the wardrobe. You watch him from your spot in the doorway as he lays multiple outfits out onto the bed, all featuring short sleeved tops and shorts coupled with some form of sandals for shoes.

“Take your pick.”

Sometimes you wonder if he’s intentionally misinterpreting you just to play mind games or if he’s really that unaware. You know it’s the latter, though. 

“This isn’t what I meant.” you state as he stares at you.

“You said you wanted to pick your outfit. I am giving you options to pick from.”

You decide not to fight it as this was the most control you’ve had over your own outfit in several weeks. You pick one that seemed to have the least of his inspiration and head to the bathroom with it. 

Illumi watched as the door shut behind you, clueless as to why you still had a problem with him even when he let you do what you wanted. He doesn’t dwell on it, packing the leftover clothes back into the wardrobe and calling the butlers to prepare breakfast. 

Once you were done and ready, he escorts you to the restaurant as usual. You feel a ping of unexplainable dread bubbling within you, but don’t think too much about it, chalking it up to the thought of having to deal with Illumi for yet another day for who knows how long. 

As you sit across from Illumi, you notice the rose petals have been replaced with fresh ones, some white and pink ones thrown into the mix. You fiddle with them as Illumi blankly stares at you. 

“We will be spending a lot of time outdoors today.” Illumi said. He figured he’d be the conversation starter during breakfast today as yesterday’s breakfast conversation led by you turned out to be very unsavory. “It’ll be good for the mind.”

“Yeah, I bet.” you continue fiddling with and even slowly tearing apart the rose petals. 

“Aren’t you going to ask what we’re doing?” Illumi inquired.

You don’t even look up at him. “What’s the point?”

“Do you not want to know what we’re doing today?”

“It’s not like you’d tell me anyway.”

“How do you know?”

You finally look up at him. “Why are you interrogating me?”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to have a conversation.”

You’d prefer if Illumi just kept his mouth shut as you weren’t in the mood for his pathetic attempt at a conversation. 

“For what? You’re not the talkative type.”

“I just wanted to talk.” he simply states. His voice had been slightly softer as he spoke with you.

“Is this another bonding experience of yours?” you mock, mentally rolling your eyes. 

“Yes.”

Of course he doesn’t sense your sarcasm.

“You know,” you start, noticing how Illumi stiffened slightly. “You know” was always your way of starting an argument. “communication in a healthy… relationship… is key. If you truly wish to bond with me, you’ll tell me everything you refused to tell me before.”

“I’ve already been doing that.” he states, referring to all the tiny bits of information he’s given you the last couple of days. 

“There is something bigger I want to know, something you’ve been refusing to talk to me about since you took me.”

Illumi looks down at the pile of mangled rose petals in front of you before looking back up into your eyes. He could already predict where you were headed with this and knew it would most likely lead to something that would put the progress he believed he made with you in jeopardy. You were simply seeking some sort of approval from him to talk, though.

“I’m not interested in this discussion.” Illumi boldly replies, the softness in his voice long gone. 

“It’s the least you could do, Illumi.”

“No.” he didn’t budge.

“You’re only going to end up sabotaging yourself.”

Illumi’s eyes narrowed at your subtle threat. You were basically telling him that if he didn’t have this conversation with you, you’d make the date hell for the both of you. 

“There is nothing positive that could come from this discussion; therefore, I see no reason to have it.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“Yours.” Illumi says boldly. You were slightly taken aback by how quickly and effortlessly Illumi pinned the blame onto you, completely believing he’d done nothing wrong. “I see no point in giving you the chance to start unneeded drama.”

“You don’t need to give me the chance, it will happen regardless. I’m throwing you a bone by trying to settle things in a civil manner.” you say, watching as his eyes narrow even more.

“There is nothing to settle. Nothing will change whether you know or don’t.”

“You’re obligated to talk to me at this point.”

“I’ve been talking to you this entire time, I’ve fulfilled that obligation. You’re only going to throw a fit and ruin what we have going on currently.”

“You think we have something going on between us simply because we didn’t argue for a few hours?” You mock, your balled up fists resting on the table.

“Yes.”

Your words are caught in your throat as you realize just how out of it he truly is. Two butlers come and deliver breakfast, gently setting the plates of food in front of you and Illumi. They quickly leave, probably sensing the tension in the air, and Illumi immediately begins eating. He’s eating much, much slower than usual, though. 

He’s staring down at his plate as he does so, avoiding eye contact with you and hoping you’d just drop it for his sake.

You don’t.

“What was… the aftermath of my disappearance?” you ask, carefully choosing your words due to past experiences with Illumi’s negative reactions. Usually bringing up this topic was punishable by strangulation. Illumi had only warned you once before not to ask him about it, not explaining why or what he’d do if you did, only leaving you to find out through trial and error. “I deserve to know that much after so long.”

The dread coupled with asking the forbidden question is building in your stomach. You instinctively hold your hands under your chin, preparing yourself in case your plan to hold this date over his head doesn’t work. 

He doesn’t look up at you, but he’s not eating anymore either. Illumi had his reasons for not wanting to talk to you about this. It wasn’t because he felt guilt or shame for what he’d done, no not at all, it was because he didn’t want to deal with your reaction to it. You were a screaming, crying mess back then and even though you’ve calmed down to some degree, you’re still quick to return to your old roots. 

He found you as fascinating as he found you irritating, no longer questioning why he couldn’t bring himself to just kill you and move on with his life. You were a breath of fresh air, someone who kept him interested, someone who kept him wondering, and someone who always managed to surprise him with how bitchy you continued to be.

The realization that you’d rather be stifled until you’re unconscious than favor his simple demand sinks into him. You truly are an unruly brat. He finally looks up at you, which causes you to stiffen.

“What do you want to know?”

Illumi was made aware that you’d never shut up about it, and he wasn’t fond of the thought of cutting your vocal cords. He caved into your threat, to some degree, thinking that if he chose his words carefully, he could make it out of this discussion with minimal damage. He’d just have to walk on eggshells for a few minutes, eggshells he put down. 

Your eyes widened slightly. Was he actually agreeing to talk with you about it?

“You’ll… you’ll tell me?” you ask, hands slowly coming down to rest on the table.

“If we can move forward quickly afterwards and you never bring it up again, yes.” Illumi responded, making sure to place clear conditions.

“I will, only if you answer all of my questions truthfully.”

“Understandable.”

Your heart was beating rapidly as you looked into his eyes, all questions you had about the subject nearly leaving you before you quickly collected yourself. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come. You open them again after a moment, staring straight into his black ones.

“Have you harmed any of my friends or family since you’ve taken me?”

“No.” his answer was quick and concise. You were relieved. 

“Was I reported as a missing person?”

“Yes.”

“Did you… influence my case at all?”

“Yes.”

Your eyebrows furrow slightly. Yes he was answering your questions, but he wasn’t elaborating. “What did you do?” you ask.

“I made sure your case wasn’t thoroughly investigated.”

“Could you be more specific? I want to know the details.” you say with a hint of irritation in your voice. 

“I paid detectives to ignore all the statements the police took from you and to limit how long search parties spent looking for you. You were concluded as a runaway.”

Your eyebrows furrow even more as you think how distraught your family must’ve been when you vanished, what they must’ve been thinking when greedy detectives fed them lies in order to make a quick buck. You hate him.

“Why me?!” you yell at him.

You were beyond fed up with this, beyond fed up with him. He tilts his head at you, expression neutral as he brought a hand up to his chin as if he was thinking. 

“Indeed. Why you?” he doesn’t say anything else as he continues to stare at you in that pose.

“Why me?! Tell me, why are you doing this to me?!”

He takes a moment to respond, “That is indeed a good question.”

“You don’t even know why, do you?”

“No. I don't.” Illumi admits casually. “But even without knowing, the need is still there.” He straightens himself again, hands moving to rest on his lap. "I originally intended to kill you. I thought you were using some kind of power to control me. Imagine my surprise when I found out you weren't a nen user."

“A nen user? What the hell is that?”

He doesn’t answer your question, only silently looking at you. When you fail to say anything further, he looks down at his plate and continues eating in his usual quick fashion. It’s over with. He’s relieved.

You ponder momentarily, looking down at the food before you as you contemplate what you’re about to say. It was a long shot, but did you really have much to lose?

“I want to talk to my family. I want them to know I’m still alive and well.” you say confidently, not a trace of fear in your voice. 

If Illumi wasn’t obsessed with you, he would’ve killed you right then and there for making such a stupid, ignorant request. His frustration is calmly taken out on the fork he’s holding, his tight grip bending the metal into all sorts of shapes as his neutral expression remains fixated on the plate before him. It was a terrifying sight.

“Absolutely not.” his voice is terrifyingly nonchalant. “This discussion ends here.”

His aura warns you. You don’t care, though.

“I want to talk to them.” you repeat.

“We are not discussing this any further. Eat your food. Now.”

“Why can’t I talk to my own family?”

Illumi looks up at you, you see something flash in his eyes. “If you talk to your family, they’ll come looking for you. And if they come looking for you, I’ll kill them. By keeping them unaware, their safety is guaranteed. I’m doing you a favor.”

Your hands balled into fists once more. “How?! How are you doing me a favor?!”

Illumi replies quickly, “By not killing them from the start.”

“How can you say that and expect me to be happy with you?!”

“Because they’re still alive.”

“And so that’s it?!” your voice is starting to get loud. “Because you didn’t kill my family, I’m supposed to love and accept you?!”

“Correct.” he states boldly.

His aura was becoming more suffocating despite his completely neutral demeanor. You grit your teeth in anger.

“You’re fucking insane!” you shout at him, slamming your fist on the table and causing your untouched drink to spill. Illumi watches as the reddish pink fruit punch soaks into the table cloth. “Why would I want to live the rest of my life with someone like you?! I’d rather you just kill me at this point, it would be mercy!”

This is why he didn’t want to have this discussion, you were forgetting your place. 

“Watch yourself, (Name).” he says as he looks up at you. “This is your only warning.”

“Fuck you.”

Illumi abruptly stood up, the force knocking his chair back a few feet. Your anger immediately vanishes, fear taking its place. He grabs your wrist tightly, yanking you out of your seat and dragging you out of the restaurant. He had enough, your audaciousness had gone unpunished for far too long. 

Your weak attempts to pull away were only met with him tightening his grip more, causing you to cry out. It felt like he’d crush your wrist if he tightened any more. The tears had already begun streaming down your face, but you refused to beg for forgiveness. 

He’d taken you back to the suite, practically throwing you on the floor as he slammed the door shut behind him. He stood there, staring down at you with a look that would normally kill. 

“I’ve been very patient with you, I’ve been very lenient with you, and I’ve been very considerate of you, and this is what I get in return?” he asks.

You remain on the floor, wiping your tear stained eyes before looking up at him. “I don’t owe you shit. You ruined my life.”

“Ruined your life? You don’t know what ruining a life even means.” he takes a step towards you. He was convinced he saved your life, saved you from what would’ve been a violent death. You don’t seem to understand the type of person he is. “If I really wanted to, I could make your life a living hell. You understand that, don’t you?”

You glare up at him, your intense hatred for him evident on your face. “I hate you.”

Such a childish response should not have any sort of effect on him, but it did when it came from you. His aura quickly became overwhelming, striking you with complete and utter terror as you lay frozen on the ground. His eyes wide, his pupils shrunken to dots, and his hair floating in the air. You’d activated his bloodlust. 

His aura reached far and wide, paralyzing the hotel employees and causing the butlers to think he’d finally killed you. 

“No, you don’t. You love me.” he spoke his words as if they were fact, something you could not argue with. He takes another step toward you, eyes boring into you. “Isn’t it funny how you beg for death yet freeze in terror when the possibility of death becomes a reality?”

His voice was unnaturally soft for the state he was in. He was happy, happy that your talk of wanting to die was nothing more than a bluff, a tactic to control him. You didn’t actually want to die, you were just overreacting.

After a few seconds, he calmed down. His face returned to his neutral expression, his long hair falling back down into place. It’s as if nothing had even happened.

“Hm…” he hums, looking down at your paralyzed figure on the floor. He ponders for a few seconds before suddenly crouching down, scooping you into his arms, and gently placing you onto the bed. 

Without thinking twice about it, he lays beside you, one arm awkwardly outstretched on top of you as his head sits atop of yours. He was comforting you, though he didn’t know it. He had gotten an uncontrollable urge to do so, one he’d never gotten before, and was in no state of mind to resist. 

He stares out the balcony door as you lay unconscious in his arms. This feeling was foreign to him, just as everything relating to you was. He couldn’t comprehend how he felt right now, but knew he was at ease as he absorbed your warmth and slight twitches.

Illumi doesn’t move at all as he waits for you to wake up, awkwardly sprawled out partially on top of you as he continues to blankly stare ahead. His mind was empty, he felt no desire to dwell on what had happened, only allowing time to pass as he accepted this bizarre feeling. 

You eventually begin to stir, but he still doesn’t move, only shifting his eyes to look down at you. You slowly sit up, groaning as you do so, and wiping your eyes in the process. His arm falls lower than you’d like, causing you to grab and remove it off of you entirely. Neither of you say a word, but the tension doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expect it to be after something so traumatic. 

Illumi remains in his awkward position, watching as you slide off the bed and head to the bathroom. You stay in the bathroom for quite some time, your quiet sniffling and sobbing reaching Illumi’s ears. He doesn’t move to check on you, or rather put a stop to your crying, choosing to sit by and let you cry it out for once. 

He finally gets up after a while, thinking he’d given you more than enough time to recover and move on. He pulls out his phone, quickly texting Shiori, before moving to knock on the bathroom door. He casually states that the two of you will be leaving soon and encourages you to come out. 

You don’t respond but you do comply after a few minutes, eyes reddened and slightly puffy. He doesn’t comment on it, only silently walking you out the suite, outside the hotel, and into the truck once more. 

Despite almost brutally murdering you twice within a five minute time span and bruising your wrist, Illumi was nonchalant. He has the radio playing so he must be in a good, or at least neutral, mood. 

He parks near his next destination — the beach — and assists you out the car as usual, his hold much, much gentler than it ever had been. He continues to stand there after shutting the door behind you though, holding your uninjured hand and watching Shiori as she appears out of nowhere. Shiori doesn’t say a word as she gently takes your injured wrist. You don’t know what she does, but the pain and bruising is suddenly gone. She swiftly bows before leaving.

You’ve never verbally questioned her magical abilities but you mentally thank her as Illumi proceeds to escort you towards the beach. You think to yourself how strange this whole ordeal is but don’t feel the need to comment on that obvious fact, only remaining silent as he takes you over to two lounge chairs set up under a beach umbrella. 

You sit down, propping your head up on your hand as you stare out into the ocean. This was relaxing. Shiori appears once again, placing a pineapple smoothie inside of a hollow pineapple on the little table beside you before leaving just as quickly, a red umbrella and a swirly straw placed inside for maximum corniness. You ignore it. 

There was a surprising sense of tranquility within you as you sat in the lounge chair; the breeze felt nice, the sound of the waves was like a massage for your ears, and the occasional seagull noises gave you a sense of nostalgia. 

Your mind was calm, yet racing all at once, a feeling you were all too familiar with. You fully relax onto the chair, kicking your sandals off and turning onto your side — away from Illumi. You rest your head on your hands, shutting your eyes as the warm sun cleansed you of your stress. 

An hour passes, then two, then three.

“The view is nice.” Illumi finally speaks, continuing to stare ahead of him as he had been doing since he sat down. 

You don’t acknowledge him, not that he minded — for once — as he retained his calm demeanor. 

Illumi continued after a few minutes, ”We’re going to have dinner with my family back at Kukuroo Mountain tomorrow.”

Your heart sunk into your stomach. You immediately sit up, looking over at him for the first time since you came here. 

“What?!” you ask, clearly distraught over this unfortunate information.

Illumi turns his head slightly, shifting his eyes toward you as he repeats himself, “We are going to have dinner with my family back at Kukuroo Mountain tomorrow.” he turns forward again. “It’ll only be for a few hours, we’ll come back to the hotel once it’s over.”

“But-but why?”

“Because we have more to do here.” Illumi states. God, you can’t stand him.

You fully sit up in the chair, “I’m asking why are we suddenly having dinner with them when you’ve never introduced them to me before?” 

“They’ve been wanting to meet you since they found out about you, especially my mother.” Illumi taps his chin with his pointer finger. “I reached a compromise last night: you said the lack of people took away from your ability to enjoy time with me, and my family won’t stop pestering me about you, so by taking you to have dinner with them, I’m killing two birds with one stone.” 

Unbeknownst to you, the rest of the Zoldycks, at least his mother and father, had been extremely curious about you. Illumi had only mentioned you to his father when he was asking for permission to construct your living quarters near the Butler’s Quarters as well as when asking for his advice on courtship. The idea of Illumi being in love with someone completely caught the man off guard, but he gave Illumi what he wanted nonetheless. 

His mother found out when she questioned her husband about the construction workers, her jaw dropping dramatically before immediately bolting to find Illumi. She spread the news and hounded Illumi since then, never missing an opportunity to ask a question about you, which were all left unanswered, and even going as far as to harass Shiori and any other butlers who saw you in person. She never got the answers she wanted from them, courtesy of Illumi. 

His father, on the other hand, was patient and allowed Illumi to do his thing, thinking he was finally transitioning into the next stage in life. That doesn’t mean he didn’t order his loyal, pink haired butler to keep tabs on you, having her use her monocle to record her very rare interactions with you. He even had her join the large group of butlers Illumi took with him on his trip, giving him intel on what went on as everything unfolded.

Illumi was aware and assigned her with jobs that would keep her the furthest from you.

“What?! Why would they want to meet me?! Did you lie about me to make me seem cool?!” your voice raises slightly.

Illumi doesn’t react to it. “I only told my father that you were my partner, that’s it. I’m guessing he told my mother who then told everyone else.” 

Illumi didn’t want to introduce you too soon for one simple reason: you weren’t ready. He wanted you to be his happy, willing partner in everyone’s eyes, even those who knew better, and was concerned your lack of respect and unpredictable behavior would ruin that image. 

It made sense for them to be so curious, none of them had ever imagined Illumi of all people finding a lover and being so committed to them. They were intrigued and wanted to know who it was that Illumi thought worthy enough for his time, effort, and affections.

You’re clearly terrified at the thought. 

You sink back onto the chair, pulling your knees close to you as you think of all the different ways you’ll be humiliated and brutally tortured, how high their expectations of you must be, and how they’ll laugh when they find out you’re just a normal, average person. They probably thought you were also some kind of murderer, taking jobs and lives left and right. It was nerve-wracking.

“I don’t…” you start, “I don’t want to…”

Illumi looks over at you. “I did what you wanted, you can’t back out of it now.”

“Why'd you even bother telling me this? You never told me your plans before!”

“You said communication was key in a healthy relationship.” he answered.

You don’t say anything else to him. Whenever you thought you’d gotten the upper hand, Illumi found a way to counter it. You wondered if you would still have to meet his family tomorrow if you had kept your mouth shut the other day or if Illumi would’ve even told you about it if you hadn’t started that argument during breakfast.

He was taking you into consideration, just in all the wrong ways. 

The two of you sit in silence once again, your mind dreading tomorrow’s dinner and his mind as relaxed as can be. You continue to sit there for a couple more hours before Illumi announces it was time to head back.

Your mind never stopped racing, replaying thoughts of them attacking you over and over again. You don’t say anything during the car ride, you don’t say anything during dinner, which was much appreciated, and you don’t say anything as you ponder in the shower, only coming out after Illumi rushes you for taking too long. He slides onto his side of the bed after coming out of the bathroom, reaching for the remote and turning on the TV. You were already tucked under the blankets, trying and failing to fall into a deep slumber as your mind continued to torment you with endless possibilities.

Illumi browses through channels until he ultimately settles on a random cooking show. He didn’t particularly care for it, only wanting something to fill the silence while he waited for something. You shift constantly before laying on your back, allowing yourself to watch as the contestants on TV failed to execute a successful dinner service, a British man pointing out all their faults and demanding they fix it. 

Watching the show eased some of your anxiety so you stay up for another couple of hours before you feel yourself beginning to drift off. You turn onto your side once more, getting comfortable as you try to fall asleep again. 

Illumi sees this and swiftly powers the TV off, completely turning the room pitch black as the curtain covering the balcony door was shut. He continues to sit up, however, eyes lingering on you in the darkness. 

He suddenly moves, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you towards the middle of the bed, wrapping his arms around you and causing all traces of sleepiness to leave you immediately. You shift once, slightly pushing against his arm. He only pulls you closer to him. You shift again, pushing harder this time. He only tightens his grip. He was getting way too comfortable.

“What are you doing?” you ask, your heart rate beginning to quicken.

“Holding you.” Illumi stated simply. 

It was clear by your body language that you were uncomfortable, body tense and stiff as you tried not to rub against him even more than you already had. He didn’t mind, though.

You internally curse him for spooning you as you now find yourself unable to sleep. You lay wide awake in his arms, too nervous to move due to how close and personal he was, but too uncomfortable to stay still either. You couldn’t help but shift a bit more, eventually finding a position comfortable enough to grant you the escape of a deep sleep. Illumi, however, remains wide awake, a slight smile on his face as he absorbs your warmth once again.

Tomorrow will be one hell of a day.

[kp-alice]

As You Deem Fit

Summary: Ever the generous lover, Yunho knows just the right gift to give you on your third anniversary - himself.

AKA an enthusiastically pliant!sub!Yunho x mischievous!dom!f!reader

Word count: 6 810

Warnings: free use (so seemingly dubious content but everything is fully consensual!!), oral (f rec), handjobs, pegging, butt plugs, ejaculating straps, just a lot of groping and tension in general, playful sex (they love each other so much it's lowkey gross), the tiniest speck of clothed f/naked m, an awful load of pet names

A/N: This fic is the fourth part of my sub!Yunho Kinktober 2024! The event's masterlist can be found here.

You sat on the couch in your dimly lit living room, facing your boyfriend of three years with a huge grin. As always, he'd gone above and beyond to make sure you felt loved and cherished, this time proving it by buying you that beautiful necklace you mentioned almost half a year ago. You didn't dare wish for it, knowing it was quite expensive and something you had only talked about in passing, but you were yet again beautifully surprised.

"Yu, it's so beautiful!" You marveled as you looked down at the necklace he had so eagerly helped you put on, reaching over to hold his soft hand. Much like your neck, his wrist was now adorned with a pretty yet elegant silver bracelet. Of course you got each other matching gifts. After three years together, you were practically one person split into two bodies.

"Not any more beautiful than the bracelet you've picked out for me," he grinned cheesily, mesmerized by the silver gleaming in the soft light. "I was worried my gift would be too expensive, but I see we've both decided to be generous this year."

You tightened your hold on his hand, faux offense on your face. "Nothing is ever too expensive when it comes to you, love!"

Yunho giggled at your reply, though you could sense a smidge of hesitance behind his warm gaze. "Yeah, I guess so..."

"But?" You pressed on, leaning closer to examine his expression. He was definitely hiding something.

"Huh? What do you mean?" Yunho asked back, feigning confusion. And yet, all the telltale signs were there. The slight raise in pitch, the widened eyes, the way he tilted his head to the side just a little too much.

You sighed, but there was no actual frustration to your words. "Bunny, do you really think you can fool me after three years together? I can literally see the cogs turning in your head; you're thinking about something important."

The silence between you lasted mere seconds, Yunho's facade quickly crumbling under your unwavering gaze.

Oh well, not like he wanted to keep this a secret anyway.

"Well, actually, you see," he began, a nervous smile playing on his lips the more he stalled, "I kind of have another present for you, but it's a bit... different, so to speak."

You chuckled, leaning even further forward to support yourself against his thigh. "Yuyu, if you're talking about anniversary sex then I'm afraid we've done that one already... twice actually. Not that I'm against it in any way, of course not! I'm just saying you don't have to be shy about it if that's what you had in mind."

"No! That's not what I had in mind at all!" Yunho exclaimed but then suddenly paused, "or, like, it kind of is, but uh, I had something a bit special in mind this time."

"And what would that be, pretty boy?"

Of course you had to call him that now, of all times.

You watched in amusement as Yunho's cheeks turned a deep shade of red and he began squirming in his seat. "W-well, I was just kinda wondering about what we could do that we haven't tried yet, and, uh, have you ever heard of 'free use'?"

You furrowed your brows, casting your eyes to the side as you searched your mind, but nothing came up. "I don't think so, no."

"Ah, well, it is a bit unconventional," Yunho stammered further, avoiding your gaze at all costs, "which also means that you don't have to entertain it in any way if it makes you uncomfortable! I'm perfectly fine just doing what we already enjoy, don't worry."

"Yu," you said sternly, squeezing his hand, "just explain what it is and let me decide if I'm up for it or not. Like you said, the worst thing I can say is a respectful no and then we'll just enjoy ourselves in a different way."

Yunho nodded solemnly at your words, knowing you were right. Squeezing your hand back, he took a deep breath.

"So, uh, free use is pretty much exactly what the title implies. One person lets the other... well, use them, however they want, whenever they want. You can, like, touch me as much as you like, or make me do whatever. And while this can apply to both people, where they can 'use' each other, I was thinking that, maybe, it could be just me for now? You know, since I'm the one that proposed it and everything, it makes sense you'd be the one in control because then you can do everything at your own pace and stuff."

"Huh," you let out after a short pause, taking everything in. "And you're sure it's not just because you want me to use you and shower you with attention?"

"A-ah, well, uh," Yunho stammered, letting out a nervous chuckle, "yeah, maybe a bit of that too. Only if you want to, though! Like I said, no pressure at all!"

It was your turn to laugh now. Swinging one of your legs over his lap, you shuffled even closer to him. "Of course I want to, love. How could I ever pass up an opportunity to have you all to myself? You'll be all mine to enjoy, ready to please me whenever I want. No matter what you're doing or where we are, I can just feel you up as much as I like. What's not to love about that?"

You watched a visible shiver run down Yunho's spine at your words, an almost pained expression on his face as he imagined the scene. You nudged his crotch with the leg in his lap, swiftly bringing him out of his thoughts and back to you.

"So? When are we going to do this, Puppy? Do we just start now or do you want to set a specific date or signal...?"

Yunho took a deep breath, trying to think despite the growing issue in his pants. "Well, I was thinking maybe this weekend? Since we'll both be staying at home with the day off. And I can definitely wear something to show you I'm, uh, 'up for it', or we can just confirm everything in the morning and go from there? Either is- mmh! Either is fine!"

You suppressed a giggle at his whine, not stopping the way your leg was rubbing against his growing hard-on.

"Alright then, loverboy."

Saturday rolled around sooner than expected, and before Yunho knew it, he was stirring awake in your warm, cozy bed. Even through his sleepy stupor, he could feel your hand running up and down his side, occasionally slipping forward to graze his stomach.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," you whispered tenderly as you snuggled even closer into his back, making him chuckle. "Slept well?"

"Mhm," he nodded tiredly, pressing back into your embrace. "What time is it?"

"Time for you to tell me if you're still good to go with our plan today."

Yunho's eyes snapped open at that, suddenly remembering what specifically this week's Saturday would entail.

"You don't have to agree to anything if you're unsure about this, Puppy," you gently reminded him, kissing the back of his neck. "We can just do this another time, or not at all."

"No, no," Yunho shook his head. "I do want to do this. I'm just a little nervous, I guess? I want this to turn out well since I suggested it, but because I'm not in charge, I don't know how to ensure that."

"Don't worry, hun," you reassured him softly, but then tightened your grip on his hip. "I'll make sure we both enjoy ourselves, okay?"

"O-okay."

Yunho hadn't expected you to "make sure" right after you'd asked him, but here he was, lying in bed with his face planted in the pillows, already worn out. He still had his sleep shirt on but his bottoms were long gone, discarded in the wake of your morning ministrations.

Despite your thoughtful wipe-down afterward, Yunho could still feel a forgotten stripe of lube drying on his inner thigh once he'd finally gotten up. And judging by the first few steps he took towards his wardrobe, he already knew today was going to be a long day. The plug you'd chosen for him was nowhere near the biggest one he owned, but he was still acutely aware of it with even the slightest of movements.

Well, nothing to be done about it now - you chose it for him, and he had no choice but to take what he was given and wait for further instructions.

Just as he'd managed to put on some boxers and lounge pants, the bedroom door creaked open, revealing your curious yet slightly amused look.

"How are we faring, Handsome?" You asked, unabashedly looking him up and down. Of course he chose those plaid pajama pants today, knowing you loved the way they made his thighs and ass look. "Ready for breakfast yet?"

Yunho nodded happily, closing the wardrobe again before moving towards you. "Of course! Just needed a few more minutes to get up, sorry."

"It's okay," you said, holding the door wide open for him. "I didn't start off too eager, did I?"

"Not at all," Yunho chuckled, giving you a playful smile as he passed by you. "If anything, it was actually really-"

All words from your lovely boyfriend were cut off by a startled gasp, preceded by the unmistakable sound of your hand connecting with his ass.

"I'm really happy to hear that, honey."

Just as he'd thought to himself before, today was really going to be a long day.

Despite looking forward to spending the day together, you and Yunho still cherished your alone time. Thus, an hour or so after breakfast and washing up, you found yourself in your study, working on that random report your boss had been bugging you about. Yunho had stayed in the living room, likely lounging around on the couch while playing video games or scrolling on his phone.

Either way, he wasn't doing anything important right now, and you were awfully stressed out with this whole report thing.

Which offered a very easy, enticing solution.

"Yuyu, come here!" You called out, double-checking that your progress had been properly saved before moving on with your plan.

You heard an affirmative shout back, followed by the sounds of the couch creaking and footsteps stomping down the hallway. Even at that, you could already feel your tense shoulders relax, knowing what was to come. Holding onto the desk for leverage, you slid away from it to make just enough space and waited.

A very cozy-looking Yunho appeared in the doorway. "What is it?"

"Come here," you ordered softly, though your voice left no room for disobedience.

Yunho did as told right away, shuffling over to you with curious eyes. What could it be that you wanted from him?

"Get under the desk and make yourself useful, will you?"

Oh.

"There you go, hun," you sighed out appreciatively, tangling your fingers in his hair. "Such a good boy for me, aren't you?"

Yunho just hummed in agreement, too focused on the task at hand to reply properly. His tongue was laving against your clit, nose bumping into your pubic mound every now and then. He almost looked cute like this, trying so hard to please you that it turned him just a little stupid.

Your hand tugged at his hair, angling his mouth away from your clit and down. "Come on, Puppy, let me ride that pretty nose of yours a bit."

Yunho immediately complied, letting you hold him in place while you rocked your hips against him. A moan left him as he felt your wetness spread all over his nose, feeling like a mere toy at your disposal. You gripped his locks even tighter at that, the vibrations of his voice making you clench down on his tongue inside you.

Deciding you were done playing around, you tugged his head up again. Yunho didn't need to be told what to do, quickly diving back in to kiss, lick, and suck on your clit just the way you liked it best.

"Fuck! That's it, baby, I love your mouth so much," you panted as you spoke, feeling the coil in your lower belly winding tighter with every second. "Gonna cum all over that pretty face of yours."

Yunho whined at your words, feeling his cock stir in his pants. He knew this wasn't about him right now, and yet, the way you spoke to him so lovingly yet so condescendingly churned so good in his stomach that he almost curled in on himself just from listening to you.

Unbeknownst to your boyfriend, you were watching him squirm the entire time, already plotting how to fix the obvious ache in his pants.

Soon.

After almost suffocating Yunho between your thighs and sending him off to clean his face, you went right back to work. You had to admit, the quick stress relief was rather convenient, save for the sinful ideas of what you were going to do to your unsuspecting boyfriend next that were now occupying your mind.

Nevertheless, after two more hours of slaving away at your computer, you were finally done and free to join your favorite cuddle bug in the living room. He was re-watching one of your favorite dramas, giggling to himself at the characters on screen. As you approached him and the pile of blankets atop him, he didn't even say a word, just lifted up one of the corners high enough for you to slip inside with a huge smile on his face.

Once you were comfortably lying down on him, you too got quickly invested in the show, accompanied by the comforting rise and fall of Yunho's chest beneath you. With your pending work done and your favorite person under you, you could finally just shut your brain off and relax.

For a while, at least.

As the time dragged on and the episodes slipped by one by one, an exciting mix of mischief and yearning bubbled up inside you. Yunho's body felt so warm under you, so soft and pliant - it would be a shame to just let it be, right?

"Babe...?" Yunho questioned softly as your hand smoothed down his side, thinking you just wanted to ask something. When your other hand began moving as well, however, he started to realize what this might be about.

"Get on top of me, honey," you ordered, leaving Yunho to gently roll the two of you over, now with you underneath him. He tried not to lie down on you with his full weight so as to not crush you, but that was becoming increasingly difficult with your increasingly teasing touches. With each squeeze of his waist, hips, or even chest, he could feel his strength falter, leaning further down into your body.

"L-love, what are you..." he tried to question but trailed off again as one of your hands slid into his plaid pants, skipping his underwear and going straight for skin-to-skin contact. You gripped the full, firm flesh in your hand, massaging it softly before moving on.

Every remaining bit of Yunho's composure disappeared as your hand brushed the base of the plug inside him, re-igniting the fire that had been warming his belly since this morning. He hid his face in the crook of your neck with an embarrassed whine, suddenly feeling too exposed and vulnerable despite still being fully clothed.

"How's the plug feeling, baby?" You murmured softly, brushing your thumb against its base. Your other hand stilled on his hip, holding him in place in case he got too restless.

"It's really weird," he admitted bashfully. "I-I mean, like, nice weird! Like, it feels good, but it's also strange to just... have it inside all day. I keep forgetting about it and then I move even the slightest bit and it just, you know."

"Reminds you of your role for the day?" You finished for him, earning a nod in return. "So you're okay with keeping it in a while longer?"

Yunho nodded again, letting out a shaky exhale as you tapped on the base a few times. "Yes, please. Wanna be your good boy all day, be ready for you at all times."

"Good," you replied, an excited smirk on your face. "Very good."

Before you knew it, the sun was already starting to set. And as much as you'd love to keep cuddling and fondling your boyfriend, the growling in your stomach was getting a little too persuasive.

As expected, Yunho volunteered to cook dinner tonight, getting up and disappearing into the kitchen before you'd even had a chance to argue. Not that you wanted to, anyway. Whenever Yunho got into his submissive headspace, he loved to provide more than anything, and you were not about to take that away from him.

You did eventually start to get a bit bored, though.

About half an hour had passed, the drama you were watching left paused on the TV screen while you checked social media. You could hear the soft knocking of metal against wood as Yunho chopped up some vegetables, along with the sound of water boiling on the stove.

...Nothing wrong with checking in on him, right?

Sitting up with a groan, you raised your arms above your head and stretched. The couch creaked under you as you shifted your weight, but Yunho either didn't hear it or didn't think much of it.

As expected, Yunho had his back to you as you entered the kitchen, focused on pouring all the chopped-up ingredients into the boiling water. After succeeding, he sealed the pot with a lid and set a timer on the stove before resting his hands against the counter. He let out a content sigh, seemingly fully lost in thought.

His daydreams were cut short, however, when he was enveloped from behind, causing him to jump in surprise.

"Relax, baby, it's just me."

Yunho hummed in acknowledgment, all of the sudden tension leaving him again as he leaned back into your embrace. "Missed me already?"

You chuckled at the cheekiness, squeezing him just a little tighter. "Oh, so much, you have no idea." Pressing a soft kiss to the back of his neck, you let one of your hands wander along his body. "Also felt like paying compliments to the chef, you see."

"A-ah, but, don't people- don't you usually do that after the food is served?" Yunho asked in a shaky voice, the hand grazing his inner thigh feeling equal parts ticklish and arousing.

"Hmm, no," you muttered into his back, one hand splayed over his stomach under his shirt while the other teased the waistband of his pants again. "I already know it will taste amazing, so might as well thank you now, right?"

Yunho's grip on the counter tightened as your fingers finally dipped into his boxers, steeling himself for whatever you had in store for him. "I mean- yeah, but- but the food-"

"Just let go, Puppy," you insisted, drawing a meek whine from him. "You've set a timer anyway, you can spare some time for me now."

"I- alright," Yunho finally agreed with a tired sigh, only to gasp when you immediately grabbed his cock in response. Clearly, you were in no mood to stall anymore.

Yunho was fully hard in record time, already pent up from your previous activities. His head hung low as you stroked him, keeping him in place with the hand on his stomach while you pressed up against him from behind. Every now and then, a small whine or whimper left his lips, causing his eyes to scrunch shut even tighter.

"W-wait," Yunho suddenly gasped, wanting to stop you with a hand on your wrist but halting before he could do so.

"What is it, honey?" You asked, brushing a thumb against his weeping tip while you placed another clumsy kiss on his clothed back.

"I need to stir the- please," Yunho tried to keep his sentences as short as possible, not trusting his breathy voice right now.

You laughed at his explanation, finding him utterly adorable right now.

"It's okay, love, do whatever you want."

Yunho was confused by your words, unsure of what you meant. The fog in his brain certainly wasn't helping either, reducing him to a panting, jittery mess.

"But- you're not stopping?" He said half-questioningly, trying to break from his daze just enough to understand the situation.

"Oh, don't worry, I'm definitely not stopping," you said with a sly grin, speeding up your movements. "But you're free to keep cooking if you want, I don't care."

When your words finally clicked in his mind, Yunho thought he was going to pass out. Or cum. Ideally both.

With a pathetic, broken whimper, he nodded in understanding, muttering a simple "Okay, thank you" in response. His left hand gripped the counter even tighter, trying to keep himself still and stable while he removed the pot lid with the other. Just as he was about to pick up the wooden spoon, however, he felt you tugging at the plug inside of him.

You watched in amusement as Yunho curled in on himself with an almost pained cry, dropping the spoon to hold onto the counter again. "Y/N!"

"What? I'm just doing my thing, you can do yours just as fine."

Yunho whimpered as you pulled at the toy again, the widest part threatening to slip out of him. He felt so powerless, your indifferent attitude leaving no room for discussion. He couldn't fault you for it either; it's what the two of you had agreed on, after all. He was yours to touch and fuck as you pleased, whenever, wherever.

Taking in a deep, shaky breath, Yunho tried to regain control of his body as much as he could, though it was near impossible with your unrelenting touches. Even as he neared the stove, he couldn't stop the involuntary twitches of his hips, trying to meet both your strokes on his cock and the pulling at the plug inside.

"There's my good boy," you cooed, watching him finally succeed at stirring the pot. "Told you there was no need to stop, you're a natural."

Whether you meant a natural at cooking or being toyed with, Yunho didn't know. Either way, a groan left his lips at the praise, dropping the spoon again to lean back into you.

"Oh? Is my pretty prince close already?" You questioned, feeling him twitch in your hand at the pet name. Yunho nodded hurriedly, shallowly panting as he rocked back and forth into your hands. The timer was showing two minutes left, giving you just enough time to get your lover where you wanted him.

"Miss, can I please cum? Please?" Yunho begged with audible urgency, brain so scrambled the title came out without him even realizing.

"Of course, honey," you said, tightening your grip on him. "You've been such a good boy so far, you deserve it.

Yunho moaned loudly at the praise, eyebrows furrowing as he finally let himself get fully lost in the pleasure. His hands reached back to clumsily grab at your hips, pressing you as close to his back as possible. He didn't seem to mind the slightly awkward angle at which the hand holding his plug was now trapped. If anything, the way it pushed the toy back in even deeper made everything else more intense.

"Oh my god, I'm gonna cum," Yunho warned through gritted teeth, already sensing this wouldn't be any small orgasm. "I'm gonna, I-"

With a cry of your name, Yunho's entire body tensed up in your hold for a second or two before releasing again, trembling with every wave of pleasure washing over him. You held him steady the entire time, helping him ride out his orgasm with slow, steady strokes on his twitching cock. Your other hand slithered out of his pants, reaching over to turn off the timer before it could startle your spent lover.

Yunho panted as he came down from his high, the fog in his mind finally starting to clear up again. He squeezed at your hip, a silent signal that it was okay to let go of him now. You did so, unwrapping yourself from him to stand by his side instead and examine his face for any signs of discomfort.

"Feeling okay, baby?" You asked gently, drying some of the sweat on his forehead with a nearby paper towel. Yunho just nodded wordlessly, every part of his body feeling like jelly, lips included.

"Good. Now let's get you out of these before you ruin them any further, shall we?"

A small gasp left him as you suddenly pulled both his pants and boxers down, but he stepped out of them anyway. Despite the embarrassment of standing half-naked in the kitchen in front of you, he had to admit it felt a lot more comfortable than boxers full of cum.

"Are, uh, are you going to bring me fresh clothes?" Yunho asked hopefully, turning to give you a quick glance before approaching the stove again. He still had dinner to cook, after all.

"No," you said simply. "I don't think you'll be needing them much in the near future, anyway. I'll just keep you warm during dinner and then we'll see what happens."

Yet again, despite how small and vulnerable he was feeling right now, Yunho knew he had no say in the situation. You clearly weren't waiting for his response anyway, considering how you'd immediately left after your reply, but not before giving his ass a quick squeeze goodbye.

Just as promised, you kept Yunho warm as you sat back down on the couch, eating your dinner together under a warm blanket. You resumed the drama on your TV, letting the two of you calm down again and enjoy the simple comfort of each other's presence. Under the thick blanket, Yunho's legs were strewn over your lap while you kept a firm hold on one of his calves.

He was not going anywhere anytime soon. Not until you'd let him.

Unlike before, you didn't let him wash the dishes this time, pushing him back into the cushions while you put your two bowls away in the kitchen. You checked the clock hanging above the door, which read 22:30. Perfect.

"Ready, Yu?" You called out, returning to the living room. Yunho was right where you'd left him, curled up on the couch. His head rose at your voice, turning back to look at you in slight confusion. "For what?"

"The bedroom," you answered plainly, meeting him with a seemingly indifferent gaze. When he didn't react, you stepped right in front of him. "Come on, Pup. Don't make me drag you over there myself, 'cause you know I will."

Yunho gulped at the vague threat, reluctantly throwing the blankets off his body and rising to his feet. The shirt he had on didn't do much to cover his bottom half, making him resort to covering himself with his hands. That plan was quickly foiled, though, as you just nudged his hands away, leaving him bare again.

The moment he'd entered the bedroom, he could feel a slight tension in the air. Turning to you, he realized you looked somewhat nervous, but fought hard to hide it.

"Well? What are you waiting for? On the bed, hands and knees."

Your command brought him out of his thoughts again, limbs moving pretty much automatically at this point. This wasn't anywhere near his first or last time in such a position, so he had no issue planting himself into the mattress, arching his back just the way you liked it. The effect was almost immediate as he heard a groan from behind him, followed by a smack against his ass. "Fuck, such a pretty boy for me, aren't you?"

Yunho just whined, spreading his legs a little wider at the praise. He could feel you getting on the bed behind him, right after gathering all the things you'd need from the box in your wardrobe. A soft hand began smoothing down his back, making him relax and steady his breathing.

"I've prepared something new for today, if you're interested."

Oh, so that's why you were nervous.

"What is it?" Yunho asked, lifting his head from the pillows to be heard properly. He didn't turn around to look at you, too scared he wasn't allowed to without your explicit permission.

"I mean," you began, your free hand moving to massage the back of his thigh, "it's nothing too new. Just a small twist on what we already do, that's all. I can tell you right now if you want, but I was thinking it might be better as a surprise?"

Yunho shivered at the proposition, feeling excited and nervous at the same time. Being surprised was one thing, but to have you surprise him while you're railing him into the next week? He wasn't sure what to expect. Which, of course, led him to only one possible reply.

"Sure."

After hiding whatever it was you were planning to use from his sight and easing the plug out of him, Yunho found himself on his back, legs spread nice and wide for you while you stretched him open. Thanks to the plug, the process was a lot easier than usual, but that didn't stop you from ensuring his comfort anyway. Not to mention you'd never pass an opportunity to have him moaning on your fingers.

"Alright baby, I think you're ready for me," you said, focused on the way his pretty hole clenched around your digits. "What do you think?"

Yunho whined at the question, trying to push back against the three fingers inside of him. "Please, I need it! I'm so hard it hurts."

You chuckled at his desperation, making the man under you blush even more. He really wasn't lying; his dick had been left alone for way too long, twitching sadly against his abdomen whenever you pressed into him just right.

"Okay, hun," you began, removing your fingers from him at once, "I'm gonna need you to close your eyes for a moment, and when you open them again, you're not allowed to look down, okay?"

Huh. Okay.

Yunho nodded wordlessly, taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes. He heard you get up from the bed again before shuffling around. The bedroom was completely silent, save for the sounds of his breathing, clothes rustling, and the soft clinking of metal. The mattress dipped down again, and Yunho was allowed to re-open his eyes.

"Hi," you said warmly, an amused smile gracing your lips as you looked down at his unsure expression.

"Hey," he replied tentatively, scanning your eyes for any clues on what to expect. "I, uh, wanted to ask - how low can or can't I look?"

You giggled at his question, making him smile a bit as well. "No need to worry about any of that, Yuyu. Just keep looking at me until I say otherwise, okay?"

He obliged with a nod, keeping his focus on your face even while you yourself looked down between his legs. It felt strangely exhilarating, not being able to see what was going on down there, what was going to happen to him.

"Hold these for me, will you?" You said as you pushed his legs up by the backs of his knees, waiting for him to get the memo and hold them up for you. Luckily, it didn't take Yunho too long, still lucid enough to remember one of your most frequent orders.

A cold, slick, blunt object was suddenly pressed against his hole, making Yunho flinch at the unexpected sensation. He'd almost looked down then, wishing to see which toy you'd chosen today, but caught himself at the last second.

"I'm gonna push in now, okay?" You warned him, leaning further over his body for a better angle. "Just relax and remember to breathe."

Yunho did just that, closing his eyes and relaxing as much as he could. Still, he couldn't help but tense a bit when you began pushing in, the intrusion familiar yet oddly different at the same time. His eyebrows furrowed at the thought, confused about what it could mean. Did you get a new strap? Is that why you didn't want him to look yet?

Oblivious to the turmoil raging in Yunho's head, you kept pushing further, gaze flitting between his sinful expressions and his hole eagerly welcoming you in. It wasn't until your hips met his that his eyes opened again, watching you with almost alarming intensity.

"Something's different, isn't it?"

You couldn't stop yourself from giggling at your boyfriend's puzzled face but nodded nonetheless. "It is indeed. Do you have any clue as to what it could be?"

Yunho's brows furrowed at the question, fully concentrated on finding out the answer. You could feel the faintest tug from below, watching as he clenched down on the strap-on.

"I- I'm not entirely sure, but the shape feels different. It feels a bit smaller too."

"Is that an issue?" You teased, a wide grin splitting your face. "Maybe it's not about the size with this one, who knows."

Yunho let out another confused sound at that, trying to decipher your words. Maybe it vibrates? Or inflates somehow? Or changes temperature? Okay, no, probably not that last one.

But then what could possibly make this one special?

Despite being very invested in uncovering the mystery of this strange fake cock, the moment you actually began moving, all rational thoughts flew out the window. Big or small, thanks to your skilled hips, the toy still hit all the best spots inside of him just the way he liked it, reducing him to a moaning and groaning mess.

"Miss, please! Harder!" Yunho desperately begged. With each thrust, the hold on his legs slowly began to falter, resulting in him dropping one to hold onto your back instead. You heeded his pleas, snapping into him with newfound force. His nails dug into your back, trying to steady himself while you rocked him up on the bed. His cock yet again lay neglected on his stomach, slapping around in its small puddle of precum with each thrust. This time, though, you felt more merciful, dropping one of the hands propping you up to grab a firm hold of it.

"Fuck!" Yunho cried out, throwing his head back. His chest heaved up and down, trying to keep up with the onslaught of pleasure in two places at once. "Miss, I'm so close, please let me cum, please!"

"Is that so?" You asked back, stalling for time as he thrashed under you, desperately holding back his orgasm until you'd allow it. "Wanna find out about the surprise right now, then?"

Oh, that's right. Yunho'd forgotten all about it, too distracted by you rocking his world like you always do.

Quickly nodding his head, he could only muster a dumb "uh-huh" in response.

"Look down, then."

Eagerly, he complied, even lifting his head up a bit to see better. Just as he'd suspected, this was a completely new toy, looking nothing like the ones you'd used before. From the color and the way it filled him just a little differently, to the strange shape of its base. Speaking of which, he watched as you leaned back and reached your hand - one that wasn't tugging at his aching cock - down to said base, wrapping around it.

"Gonna cum, pretty boy?" You asked, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"Yes, please let me!" He replied desperately, trying to push back against your hand and strap at the same time.

"Then cum with me."

For a split second, Yunho was confused again. What do you mean, together? Were you also about to cum, completely untouched? But you didn't seem anywhere near affected enough to just cum on the spot like that, so what could you possibly mean?

Yunho was about to ask just that, but then he felt it.

Watching you squeeze the base of the strap, Yunho felt a strange pressure inside him, a bit further than the actual strap itself reached. And then he felt it again. And again.

You were cumming inside of him.

For a small moment, Yunho thought he had died. There was simply no way he could ever recover from such an orgasm, not a chance. His vision disappeared for a moment, and so did his hearing. The only thing he could feel was overwhelming pressure in his core, exploding into the most intense orgasm of his life. His chest and stomach kept tensing and relaxing, making his breath hitch with every shake of his body. Electricity was coursing through his body, from his head all the way to his toes and back.

He had no idea how much time had passed when he finally registered your hand on his cheek, tapping him lightly in hopes of getting his attention.

"Yunho?"

He took another big gulp of air before finally replying, "...yeah?"

"Oh, thank god," you sighed out in relief. "I was beginning to think you'd passed out on me."

"Honestly? I might have," Yunho chuckled incredulously, still in awe of everything that had just happened. His eyes had finally refocused, letting him see the curious yet worried look on your face. You were still naked, though the harness around your hips was gone. Now that his head was clearer, he could also feel a towel under his butt. When did that get there?

"I think that was the hardest I've ever cum in my entire life. Thought I had ascended for a moment there."

You laughed at his dazed response, smacking his chest gently. "Good to know at least one of us was having fun! I was so worried I had hurt you somehow!"

Although you meant it as a joke, Yunho knew there was a bit more sincerity to it than you intended to show. Sighing softly, he beckoned you closer, only to then fully pull you into his arms, chest resting against his. He could feel the utter mess he'd made that was now smeared between you but decided to ignore it for now. That could wait until his brain worked at least semi-properly again. "Don't worry, babe, I'm completely fine. Just need a moment to calm down."

You hummed non-committally, still feeling a bit unsure after having your boyfriend turn unresponsive for like half a minute. "It was good, though, right?"

Yunho chuckled, jostling your body alongside his. "Love, I literally just told you I had the most insane orgasm of my life, how do you think you did?"

Sensing you were still unconvinced, he continued. "You were so amazing today, doing everything I've dreamed of and more, and then you top it all off with this? I'm quite literally the luckiest boyfriend alive. Seriously, you have no idea how much I loved today."

You chuckled, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "Not really, I think you gave me more than enough evidence a few minutes ago. Evidence which should get cleaned up as soon as possible before we get even more sticky and gross, mind you."

"Oh, don't worry," Yunho grinned, holding you even tighter, "that's not up to you to decide anymore."

You stilled in his embrace, lifting your head up to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Look at the clock, love."

00:04.

Uh oh.

"So, now that our special day is over, how about you get up here and let me repay the favor, hm? I don't think I've had quite enough in your office this morning."

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[milla-frenchy]

His favorite game

2k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you meet a corrupt security guard. (Un)fortunately, he's hot Warnings: 18+ mdni. Javi's pov, age gap (reader is 22, Javi in his 40s), darkish, dubcon, coercion, power imbalance, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie

a/n: this is written for @toomanystoriessolittletime 's follower celebration. I got this prompt/plot (darkish Javi P) Congrats on your milestone 🥳🥳

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 dividers @saradika-graphics

“I can suck your cock, if you want.”

Javi scoffed, until he realized she was dead serious. His dark eyes were on her, as he was leaning against his desk and she was sitting in front of him in a chair. He could see the worry in the shoplifter’s eyes. Concern that he'd call the cops. 

So she told him the first thing that came to her mind. She thought he was handsome, anyway, with his brown hair, his slim waist, and his broad shoulders. His uniform, which would look ridiculous on anyone else, suited him well. She was sure he’d be devastating, in a bar, wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. She was also pretty sure she’d try to seduce him, that man in his forties, the perfect dilf. And hopefully ending up with him in his car or in his apartment. 

“You wanna suck my cock?” he mocked. “And asking me to forget about the police, right? That's what you're telling me?”

“Yeah.”

He checked her ID, to be sure she wasn't under age.

Then he pointed at his crotch with his chin and lit a cigarette as she got on her knees and pulled his cock out. She sucked his tip, his cock, his balls, and he shot his cum deep into her throat, even before he finished his cig.

That's how it started. A week after his first day at the job. 

After he had returned from Columbia, it helped him to forget his past life. 

To forget that he didn’t get along with his father anymore, after he had told him that he wouldn’t take over the ranch. 

To forget that he had lost himself in every woman he fucked, creating an endless circle. 

To forget that he had never drunk and smoked so much in his life. 

To forget that in the past some people considered him a hero. It was as if he wanted to prove them all that they were wrong. 

To forget that he had given too much to the agency for his life to end up like that.

So since that first time, he took the habit of spotting women he could easily convince. The easy targets. Either too shy, or on the contrary those who weren’t shy at all. He really liked shutting up brats with his fat cock.

He loved the hunt, he loved spotting those who wouldn't say ’no’ to him. Either because they wouldn’t dare, or because they would easily take the challenge, the thrill, the chance of blowing him off in his office.

Javi sees a group of women passing in front of his security office. Twenty-somethings. He can notice these types of groups from miles away now. Young women who think they deserve everything because they’re pretty. Or rich. 

He watches them laugh as they walk past him. Look at him. They must think it sucks, being a security guard at a mall.

He leaves his office and follows them inside, at a decent distance. He watches them laugh, loudly exchange comments, barely hiding the way they are making fun of people who don't fit their standards. It only makes him smirk. He's seen so many of these brats pass by. 

His steps are soft, light. No one would think he was following anyone. 

He's dressed in his black uniform with the word "security" on his shoulder and his back. He pauses at the same time as them. Swirls his toothpick between his teeth, watching them.

The group finally splits up. Three of the young women head to a clothing store. The fourth, you, waves goodbye to them and goes to a record store.

He’s watching you, as you look at the vinyl record covers, then the posters on the wall. And finally, some walkmans. You don't know it yet, but you’re his target. Separated from your friends.

You leave the store, your big purse slung over your shoulder, open. 

He thinks that he really wants to wipe the smile off your face. So he steals a Walkman from the store, grateful that the mall management still hasn’t installed the anti-theft devices there. 

This isn't the first time he places an object in a woman's bag, just to get her in his office. To see how she reacts. See if she offers to suck him off, too.

He slips the Walkman into your bag, then lets you head for the exit, letting the detectors beep loudly when you’re about to leave. He quickly runs towards you, as you’re looking confused. He asks you to open your bag and you do it, sure of yourself, but then you see the Walkman.

“Come with me, miss. You'll explain yourself in my office.”

You object the whole time walking there, saying you didn't do anything. 

He’s already hard. 

He closes the office door behind you and leans against his desk. Finding yourself alone with him in this office makes you a little uncomfortable, and you shift on your feet. He takes his time, letting your anxiety build, his gaze fixed on you. Cold. Frowning. Like an adult who’s about to lecture a child.

“So, miss. I have to call the police, you know.”

“I didn’t do anything!” you reply. 

“Well, is that your purse, miss?”

“Yes, it’s my purse. But I didn’t steal this. I can buy one if I want, I can afford it.”

“Have you never heard of kleptomania?”

“No, what is it?”

“What, you don’t have enough money to pay for college?”

You roll your eyes, deeply offended.

“Anyway, like I said, I have to call the police,” he says, reaching for his phone.

“Wait!” He pauses and turns back to you, raising an eyebrow. “Mmm?”

“Can’t we… can we work it out?”

“Work it out? How do you want to work it out?”

“You take the Walkman and bring it back to the store. We forget all of this,” you say, sweeping the air with your hand, as if it was just a nuisance, something insignificant.

“So you can steal again in a few days? I don’t think so.”

“I told you…,” you start to say. Then stop. “Can I offer you some money then?”

“I don’t need your money, miss. And I’m not sure you understand how serious this is.”

You bite your lip, and he sees your gaze fall to his crotch and he tries not to smirk. It's almost too easy. 

“Wait! I can… do something for you, if you want.”

“Like what?” he says, keeping his tone neutral. He sees you hesitate. Sees the way you swallow. He leans toward the phone again, forcing you to break.

“Wait! I could do something.”

He raises his hands, as if he doesn’t understand what you're talking about at all.

"I could...." you start to say, motioning at his crotch with your chin.

“What? I got a stain or something?” he asks, looking at the spot you pointed to.

“Suck your cock,” you whisper.

“Excuse me, what?” He sees you roll your eyes and adds, “I didn’t hear you, miss.”

“I could… suck your cock.” Your eyes set downward as heat reaches your cheeks.

He doesn’t answer, he makes you wait for his reaction.

“If you want,” you add.

“You’re telling me you’ll blow me, and in exchange I won’t call the police?” he asks, as he has done dozens of times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out.  

“How old are you?”

“Twenty two.”

“It’s the first time I come across not only a thief, but also a slut, that wants to suck my dick to get away with shoplifting,” he lies to you.

“And this is the first time I’ve come across a security guard so corrupt that he’s willing to accept it.”

“Watch that mouth.”

“Or what?”

“Or I will fuck it.”

The way you squeeze your thighs together doesn't go unnoticed.

“Say it.”

“Say what?”

“That you wanna suck my cock to leave this office free.”

“I… wanna suck your cock, so you won’t call the police.”

“Good girl,” he praises in a tone you haven’t heard from him before. Directive. Dark.

“Now come here. Get on your knees and beg for it.”

You turn to the door, worried that someone might come in.

“Don’t worry. Nobody will interrupt us.”

You walk over to him, as he’s leaning against his desk, and kneel down.

“I said, beg for it.”

“Pl…please?”

“Oh you can do better than that. Your father ever taught you good manners?”

No one has ever spoken to you like that, and the tingling between your legs makes you stop breathing for a few seconds.

“Please, can I suck your cock, sir?”

“Much better. Maybe you’re a quick learner.”

“Fuck,” you whimper. 

“You like that, huh?” 

You don’t answer, eyes fixed on the ground. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger and makes you look up at him. 

“No need to be shy or deny it. You’ve squeezed your thighs together twice in the last 2 minutes. Take out my cock, miss,” he orders.

You comply and unzip his pants, before sliding them down his thighs. He’s hard. You pull it out of his boxers and stare at it. Holding your breath again.

“Think you can handle it?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Well, you’ll have to. Come on.”

You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and lick up the precum that oozes out. Giving it a few licks.

“Don’t tease. I saw you, with your friends. Thinking you're better than everyone else. I hope you can do better than that with your mouth, now.”

His degradation turns you on. You take him in your mouth, struggling to wrap your lips around his tip. You feel your panties soaking wet. You apply yourself, sucking the head, licking his shaft and his balls, which are resting heavily against his thighs.

“Keep looking at me when I’m letting you suck my cock.”

God, you think. You're so turned on that you’d let him fuck you right now. You lick his shaft, tongue flat, eyes fixed on him. Tears well up in your eyes when he forces his way down your throat.

“You wet?” he asks, his cock in the back of your throat, his hands holding your head against him. You try keeping yourself back from gagging, and nod.

“Get up,” he says, releasing you. “Take off your clothes. Show me.”

You undress mechanically, then he grabs your hips and presses you against his desk, forcing you to spread your thighs, as he slides his body between them. He presses his hand against your pussy and hisses.

“You're dripping, baby. You need it bad, huh?”

You nod. 

“Say it.”

“I need it, fuck! That's what you wanna hear?”

He smirks then grabs his cock in his hand and thrusts into you in one go, and you can't help but scream.

“Quiet,” he says, jaw clenched, covering your mouth with his hand, and starts fucking you hard.

“Watch it. Watch how I'm splitting you in two,” he says, finally removing his hand.

“Fuck, fuck,” you mumble as you look down and watch his cock plunge into you, soaked by your wetness.

“Pussy’s squeezing me so hard, fuck. Turn around,” he says, as he grabs your arm and bends you over the desk. He thrusts in again and grips your hips, slamming into you.

“Worth it?”

“Wh… what?” You can barely breathe, let alone speak.

“Whoring yourself for a Walkman?”

“Shit… I didn’t fuckin’ steal it.”

“I know,” he growls.

“What?!” you exclaim, trying to stand up, but he grabs your shoulder and presses you roughly against the desk, the weight of his body on your back, as he keeps pounding into you fast and hard.

“I wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. Make you beg for my cock. I know a slut when I see one,” he says in the hollow of your ear. He slides his hand down to your pussy and brushes your clit with his finger. Slows down the pace. Fucks you gently, trying to get what he wants.

“Now you’re gonna come on this cock. You’re gonna give it to me, like a good whore, baby. ‘cause that’s what you’re good at.”

“You’re… a fucking freak,” you pant. But you don’t fight, don’t resist. A part of you thinks it’s hot, the way he got you. And you want to come, need to come, he’s fucking you too well. You let your orgasm rush over your body, your pussy clenching on his shaft. He freezes deep inside you and comes, covering your walls in white ropes.

He stays pressed against your back, his hands tight around your wrists.

“I knew I picked a good one, today,” he smiles against your ear.

Javi p masterlist

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[missmeinyourbones]

CLEAN ME UP 

c/w: established relationship, hurt/comfort, light mentions of blood and injury, atsumu lowkey gets his ass beat </3 but he is so sweet

Atsumu sits crisscrossed on the floor of your bathroom with a tender black eye and a busted lip—and though this should be a rare thing, you need all five fingers to count the number of times you’ve seen this film before.

The first two were ages ago, high school days when he and Osamu couldn’t stop themselves from throwing a punch or two over nothing at all. Their egos too big and brains too small, twice you'd gotten roped into their post-brawl aftercare. Another time it was a fight off the court, when a rival captain made a snide remark about his foul accent. The fourth, a drunken, immature mistake.

Tonight’s wounds are different. Because when Atsumu nonchalantly shows up black and blue at your door, he doesn’t tell you what happened. There’s no story attached to the bruises he bares, no lengthy explanations or excuses. And Atsumu is a lot of things, but speechless is never one of them. 

He looks childish, you think, the way his broad body folds itself into a tiny pretzel and hardly takes up a corner of your tiled floor. He’s oddly quiet, too. Sure, you heard his witty comments down the hallway about how you should see the other guy, but something’s still off. His eyes aren't lit with their usual flame of youth, pride. 

Only a few words are exchanged through the process of cleaning him up. Between wet washcloths and tiny sniffles, Atsumu fumes, You haven't asked enough questions yet, and it’s beginning to freak him out. He doesn't know whether or not he should be grateful or unsettled with your silence.

A frozen bag of vegetables presses against his left eyelid when you finally ask, "What the hell did you do this time?"

Atsumu smiles at the mere sound of your voice, an instant warmth against the burning ice on his body. "Why's it always my fault?"

You remove the bag from his brow to shoot him a look, that look. He knows better than to argue with that look. Arguing with that look gets him nothing but trouble and an achy back from a night on the couch. So, he diverts. 

"Nothing,” he sulks. “He started it, and—"

"—And you finished it, right?" 

Your words are meant to be sarcastic, at his dispense of how stupid he behaved, but Atsumu doesn't take them as such. Instead, at your interruption, he shoots you an earnest smile filled with satisfaction and dried blood stretched across his chapped lips.  

"See? So smart, baby." 

His hand rises to pet your chin but you lean back quick enough to dodge his caress. His eyes fall to the bag of vegetables that now sits by your lap. 

“Atsumu,” you try again, foreboding. 

He rolls his head back in a huff against the bench of the bathtub, and the ceramic feels warm against his neck compared to the still stinging chill on his eye. 

“What was I supposed to do? They were bein’ assholes.”

His whole team had gone out drinking tonight for a celebratory round or five, followed by a few days off. And as charming as Atsumu is, he does have his foes. People in the volleyball world he’s not the biggest fan of, for reasons he doesn’t seem to discuss with you. He likes to leave it at his good intuition, something you know he lacks.  

With the context clues provided, you can think of two or three people he’s implying. 

His reasoning is flawed, to say the least, but the way he says it has your heart breaking in the slightest. He avoids eye contact, as if he's embarrassed, dancing around the subject and wishing the ground to swallow him whole. 

His shyness has you trying a softer approach. 

“Everyone is an asshole,” you whisper, lightly returning pressure to his eye with the makeshift ice, “if punching assholes was reasonable, I’d do it all the time.”

Atsumu smiles a bit at that, but you catch how he winces slightly at the movement. 

“Yer so funny, baby,” he tries to trail off. “Funniest person I—”

“Miya,” comes his second warning, and by the look in your eye, he’s not brave enough to try for a third.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “but when yer a Miya, I’m playing that card on you, too. Y’know that, right?” 

You nod, and whether it's to his proposal or to encourage his words, you don't know. But it works, because Atsumu takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling again. 

“This time was different, okay?”

His tone is eerily soft. One only you get the privilege of hearing, and not because it's out of love, but because it's out of hate. Something’s shaken him so bad, he’s almost been rendered speechless. 

“How was it different?”

“They were talking about you,” he shakily exhales. “Sayin’ stupid shit that isn’t true.”

Your heart softens as you do your best to keep a strong facade, but maybe Atsumu does have good intuition, as his hand squeezes yours through the quick moment of silence. 

“If it’s not true, then it shouldn't have mattered, right?” you try.

“No,” he’s quick to work himself up again, eyes finding yours. “Like hell was I gonna let ‘em keep talking about you like that, ‘specially when I’m right fuckin’ there.” 

Your fingers lightly skim his jaw, nowhere sensitive but he jumps all the same. You apply pressure to tilt his head, forcing him to find your gaze. He does.

“Do you want to tell me what they said?”

Atsumu gaze softens, and after a moment of thinking, he shakes his head. 

“No,” he decides, “I don’t.” 

His eyes fall to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Do you want to know?”

You smile at his sincerity. Atsumu, who you know to be just as sweet as he is boisterous, would tell you if you asked. He’d do anything you ask. But, you decide against it. 

“No. No, I don’t.” 

Atsumu exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he lets his head nuzzle against your palm. Contrary to the ice, it's warm and soft on his skin. He thinks it could heal wounds faster than any bag of broccoli ever could. 

“I trust you,” he hears you coo into his hairline, kisses now dancing along his forehead and jaw, “even if you do have the emotional intelligence of a middle school boy, sometimes.”

Astumu hmphs at your words, simultaneously agreeing and brushing you off. He doesn't care enough to bicker, right now. He doesn’t need to tell you about how the man from the bar was talking about you. About how easy you’d be to persuade into bed. About how you're just with Atsumu for his flashy perks and award winning smile. 

He doesn't need to because he knows they're wrong. Because they don't see these moments, when Atsumu sits on the ledge of your empty bathtub. With popped blood vessels and tender welts, those men don't melt beneath your careful fingertips or soothing pecks. 

He doesn't have to say anything, because you trust him. You trust Atsumu, and it's the one thing in this world he knows to be true. 

He lifts his head up from your hold to find your lips. 

“I jus’ love you,” he insists, lightly pressing himself to you with such caution, “so much.” 

And if there’s one thing in this world you know to be true, it's that Miya Atsumu loves you.   

[cozage]

Hi! Can I request Luffy fluff (of literally any sort I love him so much)

I have a joke for you also-

Where do bad rainbows go?

Prism. It's a light sentence and gives them time to reflect.

Take care 😘

AN: Anon you are literally a gem. Thank you for the little laugh, it makes my day every time I read it :) Characters: gn reader(with longer hair) x Luffy - platonic or romantic :) Cw: none :) Total word count: 650

Braids

“Everything okay, Lu?” He had been stealing glances over at you for the past few minutes, and you were starting to get nervous. 

“How do you make your hair look like that?” His fingers twitched at his side as he spoke. 

“The braid?” Your fingers danced over the pattern in your hair. “I can teach you.”

“Yes!” Luffy jumped to his feet and bounded over to you, already reaching for your hard. You barely had time to slap his hand away before he began undoing it. 

“We’ll practice on ropes first.” You gave him a reassuring smile, and you walked across the ship to gather spare rope. “It’s better to get the technique down first.”

“I don’t understand how tying a knot will help me learn how to do a cool hairstyle.”

You couldn’t resist laughing at his commentary, but you were certain that trying to explain it would only confuse him more. So instead, you settled with: “It will all come together, Luffy. Just trust me.”

He gave you a sharp nod and turned to his three pieces of rope, full of determination. 

Carefully, you guided him through the steps. Right to middle, left to middle, repeat indefinitely. Once he started to get the hang of it, you let him practice as you watched, only speaking to offer tips on when to tighten the twists or loosen his hold. 

It took about half the afternoon before you felt confident enough to let him try it on your hair. Practicing on the rope was a good start, but hair was an entirely different medium. When he finished the braid and held it up for your inspection, you handed him your hair tie. 

“Now try it on me,” you said, sitting down in front of him. “Split it into three parts and just pretend they’re the pieces of rope.”

He was eager. You could tell by how quickly he began parting your hair. But when he accidentally pulled on a stray hair and caused you to stiffen, he began to slow down and put more care into his actions. You could feel the chunks of hair were uneven, but he was more focused on the movements than the perfection.

His fingers became softer and more nimble over time. As he crossed over and pulled each piece, he checked to make sure it wasn’t too tight or too loose. And only after you confirmed it was okay did he continue onto the next step. 

His second and third attempts were more smooth, and you barely felt any pain by his fourth attempt. 

He was so proud of his fifth attempt, you decided to leave it in. The hair appeared to be evenly split. You couldn’t feel any stray hairs or tight strands. As far as you were concerned, it was as good as you would’ve done. 

Luffy loved to braid. And it turned out that he was pretty good at it. He would braid anything or anyone that would let him. Ropes, strips of cloth, your crewmate's hair; nobody was safe from your captain’s urge to practice what he had learned. 

One day, you found him off in the corner, focusing hard on trying to do what he could with his own hair. He must’ve been practicing for a while because his hair was riddled with tiny braids that stuck out against his tousled, loose strands. 

“Luffy?”

It was always easy to startle him when he was practicing. But once he realized it was you, he broke out in a grin. “Hey!”

“You can practice on my hair if you’d like.”

His eyes lit up at the offer. “I can?!”

You laid down in front of him, letting your hair fan out on the deck. You closed your eyes, feeling the sun warm your face. Yes, you could stay here for a while. Especially with Luffy. 

“You can practice for as long as you’d like.”

[pretzel-box]

Hi, I hope you're having a wonderful day!! I love your fanfics sm and I wanted to request GN!reader's reaction to Sebastian introducing Painter for the first time to them after a near-death experience caused by them? It can be angsty or not, entirely your choice! :D

Tags: GN! reader, slight comedy

Words: 1,2k

“How long do we have to walk?” your voice piped up after passing a few rooms with Sebastian at your side, which seemed annoyed at the constant question.

“Like I said before…the past 5 times…in the past 10 minutes…It's DOWN THE HALL.” The annoyed tone in his voice was barely something that bothered you, you just secretly believed that Sebastian is a bit short tempered.

The two of you decided to do a quick trip, escaping the boring shop duties and fleeing into the familiar walls of the blackside. At first you thought that it's another of the frequent scavenging runs, looking for stuff to trade against assets but you could only raise an eyebrow at Sebastian who passed a perfectly fine medkid. Meanwhile you stood there, holding your fourth lantern, while the other three were hanging around your arm.

“What the hell are you doing? Trying to become a damn flash beacon yourself or what?”

—

“Maybe,” you shot back, adjusting the many lanterns hanging off your arm with a familiar smirk. “Ever think about how handy it’d be to have some extra light around here? Unlike some people, I like to be prepared.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at your half-joking comment, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, barely visible. “Yeah, sure. Because carrying a whole damn lighthouse with you is being prepared.”

You just shrugged, grinning as you fell back in step beside him, his file didn't lie, he is quick despite his appearance. “Hey, you never know when you’ll need a little extra illumination. Or, you know, when you’ll need to blind someone annoying.”

“Oh, is that what you’re planning? Using those lanterns to blind me?” he snorted, glancing sideways at you before giving your head a gentle hit on the back. “Good luck with that.”

“You think I won’t?” you teased, nudging him back with your shoulder as you walked. “I could be dangerous, you know. A real threat.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, really dangerous. I’m shaking in my coat.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sarcasm in his voice, the easy banter between the two of you. For all your differences, there was something oddly comforting about the back-and-forth, the way you could trade jabs without any real malice. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. This wasn’t the usual scavenging run, and Sebastian seemed oddly focused, his eyes darting ahead down the dimly lit hall. And aside from that Sebastian once hit you for passing by a perfectly fine medkit once, and now he's the one walking half-blind through the building.

“So, what’s really going on, Seb?” you asked, trying to catch his eye. “This doesn’t feel like one of our usual trips.”

Sebastian hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he forced himself to keep moving. He seems to think about his word choice before speaking up. “I told you, we’re just… going to meet someone.”

You raised an eyebrow, your curiosity piqued at the mention. “Meet someone? Out here? You know, if you’re trying to sell me to some creepy scientist or something, just give me a heads-up, alright?”

Sebastian snorted again, a genuine laugh escaping his lips this time. “Trust me, no one’s buying your smart mouth.”

“Oh, ouch,” you feigned offense, clutching a hand to your chest dramatically. “You wound me, Sebastian. You really do.”

He just squinted his eyes at your dramatic words but you could see the amused glint in them. “Look, just… trust me, okay? It’s not far now.”

“Uh-huh,” you said skeptically, but you followed him anyway. You trusted him after being stuck with him for so long. You two managed to reach a comfortable level with each other. Few more steps and Sebastian suddenly stopped, causing you to almost bump into his large form and stepping on his tail.

“We’re here,” he announced, gesturing toward an unmarked metal door. You eyed it warily, then glanced at him.

“Seriously? This is where you wanted to go?”

Sebastian didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he swiped a shimmering keycard through a reader on the metallic door, and with a loud beep, the door slid open with ease. The room beyond was dimly lit, the soft hum of machinery filling the air. You could see a few lights flickering in the darkness, and a strange chill ran down your spine.

“Alright, come on in,” Sebastian said, stepping inside and motioning for you to follow.

You hesitated for a moment, but then curiosity got the better of you. You stepped into the room, glancing around cautiously. “So… who are we meeting exactly?”

Sebastian took a deep breath, clearly bracing himself for your reaction. “This… is P.AI.nter,” he said, gesturing toward one of the screens where a digital face slowly appeared, composed of pixelated lines and shifting colors. The computer itself was behind some iron-fence, keeping you from actually reaching him.

“Hello” the face said in a surprisingly smooth, almost friendly voice. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

Your jaw dropped, and you took an involuntary step back, nearly tripping over one of the lanterns dangling from your arm. “Wait a minute,” you said, your eyes narrowing. “Isn’t this the AI that almost got me killed?!”

Sebastian winced, realizing it might be possible and that he's probably at fault too, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh, yeah… about that. P.AI.nter can be a bit overwhelming.”

“A little overwhelming?!” you repeated incredulously, staring at him with wide eyes, your stare made him uncomfortable. “It locked me in a room with a giant, homicidal shark! On what planet is that ‘a little overwhelming?”

Painter’s digital face flickered slightly, and you could swear it looked… embarrassed? “I apologize for the misunderstanding,” it said. “I was merely following Sebastian's protocol. I didn’t intend for you to come to any harm.”

“Oh, well, that makes it all better, doesn’t it?” you snapped, crossing your arms over your chest. “I nearly got my brain fried off, but hey, it was just following protocol.”

Sebastian cleared his throat. “Maybe someone shouldn't flash sharks with flash beacons and then insist on a stare battle.” He mumbles under his breath before trying to intervene. “Look, I get that you’re upset, but Painter’s actually really helpful. And, you know… it wanted to apologize.”

You stared at him for a moment, then back at the screen. “Fine,” you said finally, though you still didn’t look convinced. “Apology accepted… I guess. But if you try to kill me again, I’m taking a sledgehammer to this entire room. Got it?”

Painter’s face flickered again, and it smiled. “Understood. I will make every effort to ensure your safety in the future.”

Sebastian let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, a relieved smile spreading across his face. “See? No harm, no foul. Now, why don’t we all just… start over, yeah?”

You shot him a look, but then a reluctant smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, okay. But you owe me for this, Seb. Big time. Especially since it seems like it was your fault in the first place.”

He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “Deal.”

The three of you spend some time, first P.AI.nter made you uncomfortable since the memories of his little navipath tricks are unsettling you. But the more you got to know him, the more you felt at ease. He seems genuinely nice and interested in you, probably aiming to befriend you.

As you turned to leave, you could hear Painter’s voice behind you, sounding almost… amused. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped your lips as you and Sebastian walked back down the hall, the tension finally beginning to ease.

[lyxchen]

Okay so I got inspired by this post by @fandomfourever to take a look at some of the books on In-ho's desk in the room where Jun-ho looks for him in season 1. Here's a picture and I numbers the books which I looked up so you know what book I'm talking about

(also just fyi it's almost 5am where I live but I feel the need to make this post now instead of tomorrow, if there are any spelling mistakes in this post or something is worded weirdly, that's why)

So let's go!! First book:

So book number one is the one I'm most uncertain about. The book here is titled "René Magritte, l'empire des lumières" (empire of lights) and online I found this book with the same title but a different cover. You can even read or download it here if you want. But what I also found out is that "l'empire des lumières" is a series of 27 paintings that René Magritte made over the years and they're always of a landscape at night (often a house lit by a street lamp) while the sky in the background is a sunlit sky by day and In-ho seems to like this series a lot. We can assume that because he has both a small print of it taped to the desk and again a bigger print of it framed hanging on his wall

I'm pretty sure the framed one is this one but I can't be fully sure:

Second book:

Book number 2 is "Picasso, The Blue and Rose Periods". I have to admit I didn't find out anything specific about this book, I think it's just a book about Picasso's art. If I'm wrong please correct me. Also the picture of the book I put here isn't the same cover as the one on In-ho's desk but it should still be the same book

The third book is about Monet/his art and if I'm correct it's the one by Christoph Heinrich. Again I didn't look up too much information about this one because it's just an art book.

The fourth book is "Van Gogh, The Complete Paintings" by Ingo F. Walther and Rainer Metzger. Again art book about Vincent van Gogh's art

So for book number 5 I couldn't actually figure out which book specifically it is. From what I can read it's called "Campus Life" and I tried looking that up but there were multiple books with that title (one of them was gay tho sooo...). Also maybe that's just me but it does kinda look like it could also be a notebook?

Lastly book 6:

It's called "The Catcher in the Rye" by J. D. Salinger and it's a novel from 1951 and it's about a 17 year old boy looking back on three specific days from his past. You can find the description and what it's about online. I'm gonna read through that tomorrow I think

Bonus book but I couldn't find the exact one:

This one, which is on another shelf on In-ho's desk. It's probably an art book on Picasso

So what does this tell us about In-ho? He's an artist, or at least very interested in art and he specifically likes René Magritte's "l'empire des lumières" series so much that he has two prints and a book about it

[fourthingsandawizard]

|Three lights are lit, but the fourth one's out|

[loveiis]

not proofread !

warnings: cunnilingus, cursing.

you were sitting at your desk, your two light pink monitors lit up your face in the dark room, one monitor consisted of a game of fortnite that you had been playing for a while, while the other one just sat on your screensaver.

matt had bought you both of those pretty monitors, so that you could play fortnite with him at anytime, considering you didn’t have anything to play on before he ordered them.

your fingers clicked quickly against the keyboard as you started to fight someone who was seemingly better than you. you sat in your chair in a criss-cross position as your head slightly leaned into your monitor, trying to focus.

matt, however, was sitting on the edge of your bed behind you as he scrolled mindlessly through tiktok. 

“babe.” he called lowly, setting his phone down next to him. “yes, matty?” you deadpanned, the game being too good for you to turn even just an inch.

“can you come to bed now? you said three games, but you’re on your fourth.” he sighed, leaning back on his arms. 

“m’ sorry baby, i promise after this one i will.” you mumbled as felt a little bad, you weren’t supposed to be on the game after three rounds.

but you didn’t care as much since there was too much going on. 

right now, matt was regretting buying you all of that gaming shit, he should have just let you play roblox on your phone. 

matt suddenly got an idea, maybe it would make you come sleep with him quicker, because he knew you probably weren’t for a while.

matt slowly got up from his spot on the bed, and instantly crawled on the floor so you couldn’t see him in the corner of your eyes.

you weren’t going to anyways, you were too engrossed in your game to pay attention to whatever matt was doing.

he silently crawled under your desk, getting a full view of your shorts. matt licked his lips as he uncrossed your legs.

“matt? what’re you doing under there?” your heart raced as you kept your eyes on the game.

“shh, play your game.” he said in return, pulling your legs closer to his face. you decided to stay silent, trying to put your focus back on your game.

matt started to undo the tie on your shorts, then wrapped his fingers under the waistband, tugging them downwards.

“lift.” matt simply demanded, as you lifted your hips to make it easier for him to pull down your shorts.

you cleared your throat, realizing what he was about to do. but you had to win your game, there was only one person left.

matt finished pulling down your shorts as he tossed them somewhere in the room. he pulled your panties to the side as he leaned in farther to get closer to your heat.

he grasped onto your plush thighs as he lifted them and spread them enough for him to get in between.

your body tensed as he spread your legs, your brain becoming more and more fuzzy as he continued to do this while you were in the middle of a game. 

you shook your head to rid yourself of the lack of focus you had, and leaned into your monitor more. matt finally pressed his tongue to your entrance, and licked a stripe upwards and stopped at your clit.

you shuddered at his motions, trying to keep your fingers from entangling into his hair. he pursed his lips, giving your clit a light kiss before sucking on it.

“oh fuck..” you whispered. at this point in the game, you found the last person and you’re now struggling to get the win as matt continues to pleasure you. 

his movements become faster as he laps at your pussy, occasionally fucking his tongue into you.

your breathless moans are like music to his ears. “matt… fuck..” your eyes struggle to focus, and your hands start shaking on your mouse and keyboard, making it harder for you to aim.

matt hummed against you, sending vibrations through your body as you let out a whine. 

you were now so close to releasing, and just giving up on winning the game, everything was just too much for you. “you lose that game, and i won’t let you cum, m’kay?” he mumbled against your pussy, the vibrations being too much.

you now knew that you couldn’t give up now, you wanted to cum so badly.

you tried to straighten out, narrowing your eyes as you really tried to focus again.

until matt decided to slip two of his fingers inside of you as he flicked his tongue on your clit.

“ma- matt- shit.. m’ coming..” you exhaled, feeling his fingers curl inside of you, the pleasure being way too much to handle. 

you aimed one last shot at the other player, thinking it would miss.

but as your character slowed down and the victory royale popped up on your screen, you released on matt’s fingers. 

a scrap while i work on my series :)

wc: 838 words, 4,501 characters.

divider from: @/saradika-graphics

[dabisbratz]

𝐼𝒩 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸 (𝒜𝐿𝐿 𝐹𝐿𝒪𝒲𝐸𝑅𝒮 𝐹𝒜𝒞𝐸 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒰𝒩)— leon s. kennedy x male reader

w.c: ~5.2k

warning: pwp ( porn with plot ), jealousy, exes-to-lovers, oral, phone sex ( ? ), softdomtop!leon, subbottom!reader, re2r leon, dirtytalk, praise/degradation, spanking, fingering, amab reader, light feminization, riding, blowjobs, creampie, leon’s big but doesn’t know it, finger-sucking, finger-hooking, set after re2r n before re4r, krauser mentions, mentions of alcohol, throatpie, d/s dynamic, unprotected sex ( wear condoms! ), aftercare ! ♡

sonny says..: the urge to add a daddy kink to this was so. so very!! strong . had to stay focused.. this is already.. sovery.. self indulgent..

Confronting him was the hard part. It’d been a while since you’d seen Leon, your ex-boyfriend, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing. It was him, you know now— you’ve always known — but you weren’t sure you had the heart to face him. It was you who ended it after all, you who’d sent him down a heartbreak and alcohol induced rabbit hole that could only be documented briefly through a few voicemails and delivered texts. Even after traveling all this way, burning your cash like it grew on trees, trudging through the rainy streets of this random city, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the right decision.

You couldn’t take it. The voicemails, the messages, the audio messages full of incoherent sobs and pleads. Being away from him, the same man who’d left you jumping for joy. The same man who’d lit sparks in your chest and released butterflies in your stomach. The same man who’d smile at you in the dead of night, genuine and bright, as he told you he’d loved you a million times over. Leon, whose hands were soft and warm on your skin, so gentle and patient. Like no one you’ve ever met, your heart squeezes in your chest. Leon, Leon, Leon.

Was this out of line?

But it’s too late to turn back now, because your hand is curling into a tight fist as you knock on the fourth motel door all night. Once, twice, three times. You’re ready to back out, to run before whoever’s residing here can open the door and, most likely, slam the door in your face with a distasteful choice of words.

But the door opens.

“There’s an extra. . . Uh, umbrella by the mailbox. Looks like you could use it!” He starts, eyes sparkling despite the dim lighting and narrowed space they’re peeking from. It sounds almost rehearsed, like you’re not the first person to knock on his door tonight. And, for a reason you know all too well, the thought stings.

His eyelashes are just as long as you remember them, curled upward and batting against the thin layer of baby-fat adorning his cheeks in a way that looks dreamy and slow. Like he’s relaxed, or perhaps tired. Nonetheless, his pretty, round eyes are undeniably his and hard to miss, you find yourself at a loss for words. You’re lost in the deep pools of blue, bleeding indigo and inky black of his irises matching the recently done-over roadways in a way that feels just as fresh.

Leon looks reminiscent of a puppy, though he always has, with his thick brown eyebrows pinched at each beginning in a way that can only mimic confusion. Or concentration, even. Almost as if it’s detrimental to him that you know there’s an umbrella there for you, for anyone, who needs it. That it’s important you know— with him around— you’ll be safe. He’s barely changed since you’d last seen him in person, the moles on his cheeks and throat unmoved, soft tufts of brown hair swept to the side as normal, and pink, plump lips that curl upward in a way that’s so comforting you could cry. Leon, your Leon, who smiles warmly, lips pulled into a sweet and inviting grin as the apples of his cheeks round out. Your eyes travel to the dimple dead center of his chin, prominent and defining. The perfect place to slot your thumb, really, to hold his chin and lose yourself in his azure eyes.

Even with the pitter patter of rain soaking into your already soaked clothes, this is the warmest you’ve ever felt in the last few months. His presence keeps you warm. Kept you warm.

“Leon.” It’s all you can say, breathless as the air is snatched from your lungs and excuses die on your tongue. What could you even say? Sure, you’d practiced it all in your head before arriving— I’m sorry, I miss you, what happened to us? It’s all easier to piece together in your head in contrast to actually saying it.

There’s a routinely lean against the doorframe as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, and he’s truly looking at you now, opposed to the clear umbrella sat taut beneath his motel’s mailbox. With a flash of lightning he blinks, freckle and mole dusted cheeks set alight for just a mere second as his breath is caught in his closing throat.

“Oh. . . It’s you,” His sharp adam’s apple bobs with an even sharper swallow, and his pinched eyebrows go lax for a brief moment before tightening back up. “. . .Okay. Hi.”

“Hi, Lee.” You mimic, awkwardly shifting to the side. Still in his casual clothes, you presume, Leon looks comfortable as he sports baggy, blue jeans and a white tank top. Almost too comfortable, the fabric straining against his chest and only ever relaxing the closer it delves by his armpits, flowing despite being trapped beneath his wide ribcage and thick biceps. There’s a heavy vein cascading around it, disappearing under his skin only to reappear by his forearms and soft hands. With pink dusted fingertips, one hand is closed around the gold doorknob of his motel room.

You expect him to close it in your face. To slam the door after telling you to leave, with anger painting his soft, pretty features until they’ve hardened into cold stone. But he doesn’t. Instead, he’s opening it a bit wider, no longer leaning on the doorframe as he extends an arm to fully open the door. To fully see you, and you swear his posture is much more relaxed after his gaze has focused on your face.

“You look,” His gaze flickers from your lips to your eyes, and suddenly you’re failing to form vowels on your tongue. Either way you continue, “You look good,” stiffening as you gesture toward his general direction. “You always do. Anyway. . .”

“Thanks,” He’s much too sweet for your liking, smiling at you like you hadn’t broken his heart just a few months prior. His voice is breathy with upcoming laughter as he steps to the side and invites you in. “You too. Y’know, without the rain.”

You’re in over your head, shuffling inside the dimly lit room with heavy steps. The front door opens directly to the small living-room, a small carton of Chinese takeout resting beside a hearty sized weight on the coffee table. What now? You came into this hoping he’d yell at you— maybe give you a reason to turn around and never look back. But he’s not, he’s inviting you in like. . . Like an old friend. The door is shut and locked with a small click, Leon’s form moving from behind you with his large hand ghosting over your lower back.

A shockwave travels up your spine when his palm makes contact with your waist, only for a brief moment. You can’t think straight, watching the muscles in his back ripple and writhe through his shirt. Chocolate tufts of hair rest at the nape of his neck, short and soft. It’s like you were running your fingers through them just a week ago, blades of freshly trimmed hair tickling your fingertips. Right there, he’s so right there, but almost completely out of reach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all you can say, over and over, until your nose begins to sting and your eyes grow glassy. Then it’s Leon’s turn to look apologetic, hair swaying as he fully turns to face you. Really, he has nothing to be sorry for. You’re so incredibly selfish.

“I can’t,” He pauses to take a breath, and you feel your heart splitting in two. But his tone is soft and warm, tilting with breathy and almost bitter laughter. “I can’t stay mad at you. And believe me, I tried.”

So he’s willing to talk about it. Your face visibly lights up before you can do anything to mask it, every word you’ve been trying to conjure up suddenly speeding past your tongue, “I want us to talk ab—”

“So,” Leon’s face contorts into something forlorn, like he’s weaving unsavory words together in his head. Words he’s never imagined himself saying. “Does he. . . Does he, uh, fuck you good?”

Huh.

“What?” The question falls flat and sour on your tongue, much more like a blank statement than a question. You’re not sure who ‘he’ is, let alone what led to the question in general, but you’re not exactly given much time to think about it either. The brunette steps forward, wide shoulders shifting with a heavy, clothed stride. His freshly bitten lips are released from his pearly teeth, plump and glossy. Closer now, Leon still smells reminiscent of woodsy lavender and minty mouthwash. Despite how faint it lingers in the air, it somehow manages to overwhelm your senses. He smells like home.

He doesn’t miss a beat this time, long eyelashes splayed out on his cheek as he stares down at your lips, eyebrows furrowed.

“Does he?” His head tilts to the side, questioning. You’d take it as an innocent question had it not been for his lips, pulled into a tight line that reeks of jealousy. His eyes have hardened, baby blue to gunmetal gray. His shoulders relax when you shake your head, hands suddenly restless by your side. “Use your words.”

It’s usually accompanied by a ‘please?’ or ‘for me?’

A whimper leaves your lips, soft and sweet and completely unwarranted. He softens.

“I know you can do it for me,” His eye contact is dangerous, relentless as he watches you stumble over your own whimpers and words. “Can’t you?”

“No,” You swallow hard, letting the brunette trap you in his heat. There is no ‘ he ’, no one taking Leon’s rightfully earned place by your side— whether it be in bed or not. That’s why you’ve come all this way, after all. But you play along anyway, desperate to be good. For Leon. “Not like you do, Lee.”

You’re whining now, tears bubbling in your eyes for so many reasons you can’t put together. Ultimately because you need him, because you feel bad for needing him— because maybe you don’t deserve the luxury of needing him. Apologies tumble into a tight ball of hiccups and sobs, and it’s only the thumbs rubbing away your tears that bring you back. Maybe you’re apologizing for fucking someone you haven’t, lost in the role he’s given you.

“I’m just glad to see you. Glad you’re here.” There’s so much he means to tell you, so much you haven’t heard. Raccoon city, the training program he’s been recruited into, why he’s even here in the first place. Sure, maybe he’s much too forgiving. But it’s you. And he’s not letting go again. But there’s more to it, there’s more you need. Venturing out here on your own, probably without letting anyone know, you’re reckless. Acting without thinking, and he can’t have that. He can’t turn you down, not when you’re so clearly in need of a gentle, guiding hand. Not when he misses you. Leon cuts off your apologies with a small kiss, gentle and sweet enough to have you chasing after his lips when he pulls away.

Your voice sounds needy and saccharine sweet as you lean forward, breathing in his airy scent with a wispy, “Leon. . .”

“What do you want, baby?” The nickname slips before he can catch it, but you don’t seem to mind. “What is it?”

“Want. . I want you.”

“But I’m right here? His laugh is genuine this time, lips splitting into a smile as his thumb rubs smooth circles across your cheekbone. “You have me.”

His hands are on you now, giving your body small squeezes of affirmation. Leon’s much bigger than he carries himself— big hands, wide shoulders, thick thighs, sturdy chest, heavy cock. Big all over, really, despite the way he’s able to run around and disappear like it’s nothing— despite how quickly he carries himself.

The thought as you reeling, choking on a sob that earns an immediate coo in response. There’s just so much, and it’s all piling up. But Leon’s here, he’s here like he always has been, he’s here to make it better. He’s always been so good at that. He takes you out of your head, turns it into mush while you float on a cloud and beg for more of. . . Well, you’re not too sure. But you know he can feel you throbbing against his thigh, hard and needy as he shakes his head with faux disapproval.

“That your phone in your pocket or are you just excited to see me?” It’s a stupid joke you both know the answer to, so he doesn’t waste any time laughing over it. You’re nodding anyway, bobbing your head up and down with wet eyelashes— you already look so ruined.

You’re wearing too much clothes, soaked and dripping onto his floor in a way that has the man grimacing as he peels it from your body. You’re much colder than you thought, too, goosebumps trailing down your skin as his big hands rub warm, soothing shapes into your forearm. Lee’s always been like that, the type to offer up his jacket on a rainy day, the type to give you his coat on a snowy one. And you know, undoubtedly, you’d do the very same for him.

“He couldn’t reach those spots, could he?” The question is emphasized by a hearty squeeze to your behind, Leon’s hands dipping beneath your wet pants slipping under the band of your briefs to knead the plump mound of your ass. He’s grabbing handfuls, squishing the skin between fingers and spreading you apart. “Not like I can, huh? Not deep enough?”

With a soft moan you’re discarded of your pants, fists curled into the crisp white of Leon’s wifebeater. You’ll take anything he gives you and love it, but it’s you who should be apologizing. You who should feel the weight of his cock heavy on your tongue. You want the head slipping and sliding down your throat, you want your face streaked in tears and snot by the time he’s done it’s you.

Oh, how you’ve missed this. Leon’s cock is thick and sticky, pre beading at the pretty, pink tip and dripping down it’s fat head. You watch it drip, slow and shiny as it trails down his pulsing shaft. Weeping, his cock twitches with each open breath you blow against it, jumping as his balls tighten. They’re pretty and round, symmetrical on both sides, but not nearly as pretty as his shaft. Thick and curving upwards past his belly button, Leon’s cock has a sensitive vein you want to run your tongue over, trailing up from his balls to the tip, collecting the sticky precum as it falls down into your mouth.

“Pleasepleaseplease…” You trail off, eyes focused solely on the pretty, shiny head of his dick.

“Don’t need to beg, I’ll give it to you. All you want,” You stick out your tongue, cute and pink as you’re ready to suckle along the head of his cock, but instead you’re met with the warmth of his big hand gripping your jaw. His thumb latches onto your bottom lip, rubbing the soft skin as he blinks down at you, his voice smooth and buttery as he commands, “Slow and steady.”

The tip is smeared along your lips, slowly tracing your cupid's bow and bottom lip until a thin layer of pre has them glazed over and sticky. Your lips part, carrying a thin trail between them, as you finally take his cock into your mouth. He’s salty and somewhat bitter, spreading heavy along your tongue, and you can’t help but swallow around the head. His thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as his twitching hand finds the back of your head.

“So. . . so wet,” He’s gasping before you can fully take in the stretch of his cock, hips twisting as his eyes flutter closed. It’s been a while, you can tell, with the way they’re clenched tight and his hand is morphing into a fist full of your hair. Your spit bubbles and pools around his cock, slick and wet, sliding between the seams of your lips and dripping down your throat, down your sternum. “Those. . noises. And you’re so.. cute.”

He offers a sharp thrust that has him disappearing down your tight throat, squeezing just right along his twitching shaft. Your jaw aches the further he’s pushed inside, until your nose is buried in his trimmed, gingerbread pubes. It’s obvious he’s trying to be gentle, with the way he lets out a hushed apology for fucking your throat so deep, with the way he’s whining out a constant stream of “You’re such a good boy.”

Praise. He’s so good at it, it’s got you absentmindedly drooling and gagging on his dick. You’re eager to drag out more, running your tongue along his big, veiny cock until Leon’s throwing his head back— adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a pleased moan. His cock is filling your empty mouth, using you like some sort of pre-lubed fleshlight with his balls slapping against your chin in wet plaps. Collecting drool, it froths between your lips and his cock, bubbly and white until it’s being rubbed along your cheeks.

“That’s it, good boy, just a little more. . .”

Gasping on his cock, Leon’s hand keeps you buried against his pubes until your throat is squeezing and contracting, milking his cock and wrapped plush around the thick head. You can feel it, each twitch and throb of his heavy cock, even when he’s cumming down your throat, sticky and thick ropes shooting down your tongue and sticking to the roof of your mouth. You want to show him. You’re marked for good, offering a few hollow sucks to his spasming cock before pulling off.

“Oh, baby,” Leon’s voice is just as hoarse as your own, eyes following the display of cum resting hot and sticky on your tongue. “Think you can do something for me?”

He leads you up with a gentle hand, wrapped around your throat until you’re sat taut in his lap, thighs on each side of his waist. Leon’s hands are impeccably soft, even as he’s pushing them past your lips and spreading the saltiness of them along your tongue with a gentle, “suck.” You’re eager to please, taking the warm digits in your mouth and separating them with your tongue. The squelches in return are loud and wet, a mixture of cum and drool leaving between the gaps of his fingers and your lips. Your eyelids feel heavy, brain foggy as he pushes them deeper into your mouth, just enough to have you gagging softly.

Then they’re gone.

In his own mouth now, he’s tasting remnants of his cum and pulling off his fingertips with a wet ‘pop!’while his free hand digs for the vanilla lube hidden somewhere in the couch.

“You’re gonna bounce on my fingers like a good boy,” both hands are at your briefs, tugging them down until there’s a loud ripping sound. Your eyes jet between Leon’s wide eyes and your tattered underwear, surprised. You’re not sure if he meant to do that, but it doesn’t matter, because your cock springs to life and jumps against your tummy. “Then my good boy’s gonna take it in his pussy. Okay?”

The question is barely registered but you’re nodding anyway, melting in the brunette’s strong embrace. His hands spread you open, one playing with the squishy flesh of your bum while the other’s slick fingers circle around your puckered entrance. With a wet ‘squilck’ the first finger is in, impossibly deep and hot as your gooey hole sucks it in further. You just can’t get enough, rocking your hips down to the last knuckle and grinding your cock against his own. There’s a sharp smack to your ass, the skin rippling under Leon’s quick palm as he groans, “Hnnh, so noisy n’ I barely started.”

His fingers have always been able to reach deeper than your own, sweet and tantalizing along your prostate as he finds it like he knows it, pressing and pressing and pressing until you’re seeing stars. He adds another, two in total, that slip past your velvety opening with almost no resistance. Usually you’d have to take a third, maybe, but he wants you to really feel it.

“Shh, sh. You hear it?” There’s another swat, stinging and loud as it hits the same exact spot. Your back arches beautifully, his fingers jolting deeper. You're quick to shake your head. “The dirty noises your hole’s makin’ while it takes my fingers?”

You’ll never get used to Leon’s cute face sputtering out such filthy words, it’s like whiplash. And you’re not entirely sure what he’s talking about, it’s hard to hear over the fog and sounds of your own babbling, but you can hear yourself answering anyway, “S’cause you fuck me so good.”

“Think it’ll be just as loud on my cock?”

“Even louder.” You whine, head falling forward into his thick shoulder as the head of his cock traces your slick, soft rim. There’s a cold trickle behind you, loud and squeaky— it’s more lube, enough to coat his cock, your ass, and then some. Enough to have the head of his cock catching on your entrance every time he slides it along your crack. There’s a soft kiss to your cheek, and a free hand creeps up your back to hold you there by the back of your head. You’re turning into a puddle, whining into the shell of Leon’s ear as his dick slides its first inch inside.

Your hole is so tiny. Even after being stretched full of his fingers, you’re gripping his cock like a vice. There’s a tiny, thin band where his head disappears into your warm hole, stretching and shining and sucking his dick further inside. You’re just so tight, sticky and inviting insides that feel like velvet around his thick, throbbing cock. Even as he tries to go slow, sucking in a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, Leon can’t get enough. His cheeks are flushed, deepening and blooming down his neck as he grips the globes of your ass and spreads them apart wide. Cold air runs along your hole, chilly enough to have you whining.

“F-hu-uuck, so tight,” He gasps, blinking rapidly as he watches your face fall into something floaty and, if he’s honest, cockdrunk. Twitching around him so much, you’re milking his cock for all it's got despite him barely being buried completely inside. Part of him wants to keep you on his tip, slipping it in and out your cute entrance until he’s shooting between the spheres of your ass, getting you sticky and hot with his cum. Marking you. “God, hhm, your pussy’s quivering around me so good…”

“Lee. . Leon, I can’t, want it so bad but I can’t. . .” You definitely can— in fact, you have. But he’s just so big, splitting you in two and whiting your brain out.

“Too much? Oh—haah— poor baby. Want me to stop?” He stills his hips, a breathless smile forming on his face when you try to take the reins. You lace your fingers with his own, squeezing hard as you rock your hips back and forth. “No? Then take it for me.”

Take it you do. Your body jerks as he fucks up into you, balls slapping against your ass and cock sliding against your prostate as sloppy, shallow sounds of your poor, drenched hole fill the room. Leon’s hair sticks to his forehead, stringy and disheveled as he whispers into your skin, grabbing handful after handful of your backside.

Beside you, his phone rings.

Leon nearly jumps out of his own skin, patting around the sofa to find his cell— trapped beneath a cushion. You don’t have time to read the Caller ID, something that begins with a ‘K’, but it’s clear he’s going to decline it. With the way he doesn’t spare a glance at you until after he’s got it in hand, and—

“Leon Kennedy.” His grip on your hips is enough to bruise, rocking your body down against his own. You can’t help but gasp, your thoughts spinning like clockwork in your head until your brain has gone light and airy like sugary, sweet cotton candy. All you can do is tighten around his dick, show Leon how much better you are than whoever’s on the phone. You can be good, you’re a good boy.

And you must’ve said it out loud, because he’s decided to busy your mouth with thick, sticky fingers. Even then, your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the wet squelching and slapping of skin against skin, his cock sliding in and out your puffy hole as lube gushes out around his dick in white ringlets. Like you’ve creamed on his cock, and if he looks close enough he can see it slip back inside with each thrust. You really are a good boy.

His fingers are hooked in your mouth, drawing pathetic sounds out of you until your eyes roll back into your skull and you can’t stop bouncing. Your thighs ache and burn but you want it so bad, your neglected cock stuttering along with your hips as he’s pushed deeper and deeper with every small ‘uh-huh!’ that leaves your lips.

“Yeah, that’s right,” He says into the phone, but it sounds more reserved for you. “Ah, yes sir. This job was. . . Christ, it was made for me!” He pulls the phone away for a brief moment. “This ass was made for me.”

His eyes are trained on you as he shoves his phone between his shoulder and ear, both hands on your hips to raise you on and off his cock. Your lip is bitten raw between your teeth, and you don’t realize he’s coaxing it free until he’s speaking, “Let ‘em hear who you belong to. Who’s that?”

“You! You, Leon. Leon.” Like a prayer, his name comes out slurred and crackly. An uninterrupted stream of titles and nicknames reserved just for him, your nails claw at his muscled back.

“That’s right, you’re mine,” There’s a hard, choppy thrust forward as he releases a hand to wrap it around your sensitive, weeping cock, “And this cock? This hole? Mine too.”

“Yeah, yeah, yours,” Clamping down on his shaft, your hand finds the small gap where his cock reappears. Your fingertips trace it, completely soaked but enough to have his balls tightening. “And you’re mine.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” His phone falls to his side, hushed whines leaving the brunette’s strawberry lips. “All yours, whenever you want. Got that? My good boy gets to have his cock whenever he wants.”

His hand is fast and slick, his thumb running over your slit every so often just to watch the way your body convulses in response. But Leon’s sweet, he’s always been sweet to you, sweet enough to twist his fist the closer it gets to the tip. Sweet enough to tighten the grip he has around you when he gets to the base— when he can feel you’re about to cum.

“Oh, please!” With a dry sob you’re tugging at his wrist, wriggling your hips and falling back into his thick cock. “Wanna cum, Lee. Please let me cum, please.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t tap out now. You can cum for me when I say so, okay?” Your begging goes straight to his dick, pulsating and bullying the small bundle of nerves nestled in the heart shape of your ass. You can’t stop crying, handsome face covered in tears as you ride out the everlasting stretch of his cock forcing you open, just to leave you empty. Again, again, again.

You feel like molten lava, silky and warm as wet spurts of lube catch between the skin of your ass and his pelvis. He can’t take it, just as wrecked as you are when he feels his balls go rigid and impossibly full— he needs to claim you. Now.

His cum is warm— so thick and filling when he shoots right against your prostate. You’ve never felt more full in your life, your thighs lightly squeezing together in his lap as he releases your cock with one, two, three strokes. Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, loud squeals and cries of ‘Leon!’ as your cock twitches and pulses— cum leaking down his fingers as it catches along his fist. And he could be cruel, continuing to pump your cock past its limits. But instead he gauges your reaction with a few slow, experimental tugs— pulling away when your thighs start to shake a little too much.

“One more request for you, sweetheart.” He raises his hand, a slow drip of your own cum landing on his tummy. His hand is brought to your mouth, and Leon watches with an adoring coo as you lick it clean. It’s obvious you’re trying to stay present, trying not to sink too far deep into that sweet, mellow headspace he’s put you in.

“Thank you.” He says, though you’re much too tired to figure out just what he’s thanking you for. Leon pulls you off his cock despite your absentminded protests, blowing air through protruding cheeks when your rim is reluctant to let go.

“Mhm.” Your tongue is thick like molasses, eyes slowly blinking as you’re moved to sit beside him.

“Can I see, please?” He’s already maneuvering you onto your back and spreading your legs wide by your thighs and ankles, yet his pretty eyes flicker up to meet your face, almost as if he’s actually asking. They drastically brighten when you offer a tiny, well-fucked nod. His hands spread you open, watching his cum dribble from your used hole in collective globs. Makes you feel small and properly kept, you prop yourself up on your elbows as your pretty hole clenches around air.

Leon closes his eyes like he’s trying not to cream his (metaphorical) pants all over again, his thumb rubbing a sizable glob into your skin. Your legs close around his hand, holding him still as you whine.

“I know, I know. I’ll be gentle.” There’s a sweet, simple kiss placed to the back of your thigh before Leon stands, disappearing into what your lidded eyes can’t quite make out. But you know you’re whining, something about a ‘sorry’ or an ‘I made a mistake’ before his big, warm hands are back to hold onto your own.

Something wet and dripping— a cloth, is rubbed into your skin, slow and tender and later replaced by sprinkled kisses.

“Can I. . . stay, Lee?” You want to wince at the sound of your own voice, but you don’t think you have the energy to do so yet. You’re being pulled into his arms, sturdy and comforting— even with the faint smell of sex and musk damp on his skin.

“You’d be crazy to think I’m letting you go again.”

[evagreen-stories]

Mother’s madness | (Aemond x f!lowborn!reader) (1/?)

Summary: Aemond, troubled by his unfruitful marriage and the stress of the war, takes himself a bedslave when he seizes Harrenhal and gets more attached to her than he ever thought possible. Bringing her to the Red Keep after he needs to leave Harrenhal would not go as he hoped it would, especially after the birth of the babes he sired onto her.

Warnings: mentions of violence, light angst (kinda?), canon typical misogyny, canon typical behaviour, dark!aemond, abusive!aemond, forced relationship, forced impregnantion, canon typical classicism, mentions of assault, stockholm syndrom (kind of), non-canon storyline

Divider @targaryen-dynasty

masterlist part 2 >

You sat on the edge of the bed, playing with your fingers as you stared into the lit fire. The room was silent apart from the crackling of the fire and you felt his stare burn into you. It felt as though a heavy burden lay atop your head, suffocating you with every moment made to spend in his presence.

You had no idea how, for you were nothing but a lowborn bastard fathered by some bright haired high-born, working as a servant in the castle of Harrenhal. Young, mere 16 years of age, plain features, you had never thought yourself to be anything special, though it seems there was at least one person that would disagree with that. 

Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen.

Somehow, in all the panic and madness that was his seize of the city, you had caught his eye.

It had all happened so fast. Dragged into his chambers by his guards you had little time to process what was happening. He was already on top of you when you finally understood what now was your fate. Claimed as his spoil of war and made his bedslave, he had taken your maidenhead with force that night, in the same ruthless manner he would many nights after that. 

Locked in his chambers there was little room for escape and after only three turns of the moon, a master had proclaimed you to be with child, shortly after that he had confirmed you to be carrying twins.

You had asked him for moontea more than once, yet were always denied. You were his to do with as he pleased and he was set on you having a child of his.

You often wondered why. You were busy tending to him all day and night, from fulfilling his every desire to bathing him and oiling his hair. Yet, in his many times of absence whenever he was out fighting on the battlefield, you had nothing else to do but think.

Eventually, you had settled on your own theory; He was married to Floris Baratheon, they had been wed two years before the war first started. Now, their fourth year of marriage approached, and after much struggle she brought forth only two daughters. You had heard all the stories about her and Aemond, of countless miscarriages, about the daughter that died not even a week after her birth, leaving him with only one daughter said to be equally as small and weak as her sisters, though still alive by some miracle of the gods. 

The rumours about their misfortune had travelled fast and far, many of those that opposed him and his brother's reign had claimed he been accursed, even before he slayed his own kin. She was said to be with child now as well, though it was to be seen whether this one would survive his curse or not.

As for your own detriment, you were sure you were a mere experiment of his, an attempt to figure out if he was the cause of the unfruitfulness of his marriage or his wife was. A desperate wish of his to try and prove the rumours wrong.

You didn't know if it was luck or a curse of your own that his seed had taken immediately. 

Your womb had filled with not one but two of his children and you had encountered no issues in carrying them so far. Because of this it was little surprise he had taken you back to the Red Keep with him when he was summoned back to King's Landing.

There, neither his wife nor his mother were impressed with his choices. your mere presence was despised by everyone but him. Quickly you had learned to appreciate being confined to his chambers and to his company alone, as well as the company of the two babes growing in you.

He was a violent man, quick to anger and impatient, yet as your belly had started to swell with his children he seemed more at ease, being calm and almost affectionate so long you did not disobey or disappoint him. 

Quickly adapting, you had learned to submit to all his whims and wills, even if it hurt at times, for you knew there was greater hurt waiting if you didn't. 

There was nothing that upset him more than any form of rejection or disrespect from you.

The weeks went by quickly, you had been with child for almost seven moons now, the presence of two made your stomach larger and rounder than you'd ever expected to be, even though two moons were still to come.

As you’re lost deep in thought his deep voice brings you back to reality.

“Stop sulking like that, you will ruin your pretty face.”

Ungrateful wench. Look at me when I’m talking to you. 

Hearing his voice you turn to face him quickly, seeing him sitting at his desk and eyeing you with a slight glare. Lowering your head for a moment in an apologetic gesture you reply, “I apologise, my price.”

He clicks his tongue in irritation. “You’re making that face again. Do you wish for another reminder of your place?” He huffs, taking a long sip from his cup as his eye never leaves your expression.

“Please don’t, my prince. I’m deeply sorry.” You answer quickly, trying to hide the small tremble in your voice.

He gets up from his chair and walks over to you, standing in front of you and bringing his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look up at him. “Then put on a pretty smile for me. You know the rules.” 

You pull your lips into a small smile that does little to hide the gloominess in your eyes. He doesn't care much for that though, so long you do as he commands. 

“Good. That’s my good girl, that’s what I want to see from you.” He praises and pats your head before walking back to his desk, gesturing you to follow he says, “Come here to me, sweet doll.”

You follow suit, grunting slightly as you pull all three of you up from the bed and waddle over to him, standing next to him on his chair and waiting for further instructions.

“Bend over.” He commands, tapping the desk right in front of you with a cruel smirk. “I want to see where I hit you the hardest last time.”

Swallowing nervously you do as told, hiking up your dress to reveal your bare skin underneath and bending over the table as far as your swollen belly allows you to. The large bruises on your right buttock glow brightly against your pale skin, the dim candlelight making the purple look more vibrant than usual.

“Mh. Good.” You can hear his voice and flinch slight when you feel his cold hand make contact with your flesh, roaming over your marked body in a firm yet gentle manner. “And can you remember why I did this?” His voice was as cold as his hand, no emotion present as he inspects the aftermath of your last punishment closer. 

“Because I didn’t serve you well enough, my prince.” 

“Correct.” A sudden slap lands right on the bruise, the pain flaring up again making you gasp. “I hope you’ve learned your lesson because if I have to do it again you really won’t like it.” 

Flinching and groaning at another slap you answer quickly. “I have, my prince.”

“Good.” He was pleased with your submission. His hand leaves your flesh as he tells you, “Fix your dress. I will send you out to the city to collect something for me.” 

He rummages through a drawer of his desk as you take a step back, letting go of your dress and letting it fall down to your feet again. He pulls out a piece of parchment that already has mysterious words written on it that you can't understand and scribbles an address at the foot of it. He hands you a pouch full of coin. “Go and be quick about it. Take the guards with you, and give me those back as soon as you return.” He said, his long digit tapping the bag of coins in your hand.

“It is late, my prince. Are any shops still open at this time of night?” You wonder out loud, genuinely confused. 

It was nothing new for him to send you out to run errands. It was a welcome change from your duties as bedslave and personal maid, as you were still responsible for all his comforts. From bathing him and brushing his hair, to carrying his children to satisfy all his desires. He kept you in his chambers for this very purpose, he preferred your soft tender hands over those of anyone else, even if it meant summoning the wrath of his wife and others. Running errands for him was also the only other time you got to leave the suffocating castle walls. 

In theory you were free to roam the gardens and courtyard, yet the disgusted looks and insults from the ladies there had you staying in his chambers at all times.

“Don’t question me. I want it now. Do as I say and leave at once.” His voice is laced with irritation. 

Is she insolent or plain stupid?

You mumble an apology and bow, grabbing a cloak and hurrying out the room before you manage to mess up again. 

As much as you already loved your children still growing in your belly, in the most recent days you've felt as though they depleted your mind and made you more prone to upsetting your master. 

I can’t upset him. I need to do good.

You gathered two guards to keep you safe as you made your way down into the city, down the streets and alleyways, the address he gave you was far from the castle, close to Flea Bottom. 

Many people stared at you as you made your way through the streets. The night folk were out, it was rare to see a pregnant woman amongst them, even less common for one to be accompanied by royal guards.

You arrived in a small alleyway at last, an unseemingly shop with a sign above the door, you couldn't make out the words in the darkness, only make out a few herbs painted onto the wooden slap that made the sign. 

As you enter a bell announces your entry. “Good evening.” You say into the small and empty shop littered with different containers and brown bottles, a few tools hanging on the walls, the smell of all kinds of herbs mixing in the air and making your head spin soon enough. 

“Good evening,” the hoarse voice of an elderly woman replies as she enters the room through a curtain blocking off the other parts of the building. “Can i help you?”

“Yes. I am here to pick something up for Prince Aemond.” 

She looks you up and down, taking a deep breath as an expression of suspicion drapes over her previously welcoming one. “Really now? And what exactly has our prince sent you to collect?”

“He did not say.” You answer, reaching into the pocket of your cloak to retrieve both the parchment and coin. “But he gave me this note and the coin to pay for it.” 

You had notices strange words written over the address, words you could not understand, yet as this woman takes the note from you it appears she knows their meaning as she surries off behind the curtain she came from and brings back a small vial of strange liquid as well as a packet wrapped in paper, tied close with a string. 

“Here, my dear.” she hands them over to you. “Make sure you take caution on your way back to the palace. You dont want anything… unfortunate to happen to you in the city this late at night.”

“I will, thank you. How much do you get?” You reply as you open the pouch, ready to pay.

“No need for coin, my lady. Its on the house - for our pince’s sake.'' She smiles kindly, bowing slightly as she does.

You mirror her smile, bowing instinctively in return as you had learned to do in the Red Keep - bowing a hundred times too often was better than bowing once too little, you had understood that quickly.

“That is very kind of you, ma’m. I shall inform the prince about your generosity.” Packing away everything into various pockets in your cloak you bid goodbye, only to be stopped by the sound of her voice as you're about to reach the door. 

“I can’t help but notice you are with child. If you are to give birth in the Red Keep, I advise you to be careful.”

Her words make you stop dead in your tracks, turning around slowly to look at her with a frown on your face. “I… I’m sorry?”

“The Red Keep is a dangerous place for women, especially mothers and their small children. You’re having twins, you need be extra cautious.” She said as if it was the most normal thing in the world, as if she didn't just say one of the most shocking things you’ve ever heard. 

How does she know this?

“I-” You freeze in shock as you replay her words in you mind, “H-How do you know i’m expecting twins? And… what do I need to be cautious about?”

She smiles back, a smile filled not with innocence but with wisdom and knowledge, one that must’ve witnessed the wicked ways of this world on maany occasions. “I have seen many  women passing through my shop, my dear.” She gestures around to all the varying herbs and potions before continuing “I know when a woman is pregnant and can see when she is carrying twins. As for you needing to be cautious… there are many strange things happening in the Red Keep. Beware, no one there is your friend. The walls have eyes and ears. Do not trust anyone, not the maesters, either.”

“The maesters? Why not them? Are they not there to help me?” Fear creeps up within you, your hand rising to rest on your belly in a protective manner.

“The maesters are servants of the crown and no one in the crown's service can be trusted. They have their own agenda as well.” She says with confidence, stating it as fact rather than an opinion. She steps out from behind the counter, approaching you slowly. “There is much you don't know, my dear, I only wish to warn you. I’m worried for the lives of your children.”

“Can you-” You begin but are interrupted by the door swinging open. The guards have waited long enough and demand your return to the palace. 

You sigh in defeat, knowing that defying the guards is something Aemond will be informed of. Turning to face the elderly lady you bid goodbye. “I apologise. Have a good night, ma’m.” 

She simply smiles warmly. “May the gods protect you.” and watches as you leave.

You make your way back to the palace, her words running through your head like a mantra as you try to figure out the meaning of them.

You need to stop often, taking breaks to you catch your breath.

Stupid hills. Stupid steps.

It must be well in the night now, perhaps even early in the first morning hours, when you finally arrive back in the palace. You open the door to your shared chambers carefully, making sure not to wake the prince. Slipping inside carefully you make no noise in the barely lit room, only letting out a small squeal when you turn around and see him sit at his desk still, a book spread out in front of him as a single candle by his right side illuminates the pages.

“You’re still awake, my prince.” Your voice is but a mere whisper as you start fidgeting with your fingers.

He is dressed in his nightwear and doesn't even bother to look up from his book as he answers, “You took your time.” His voice is laced with annoyance and anger. It's now he looks up at you, studying your frame up and down before demanding, “Stand in front of me.”

You walk over to him, feeling the need to explain yourself as you do so. “I apologise, my prince. The walk back uphill and all the stairs have gotten more difficult with the two babes growing inside of me. I was in need of a few breaks.”

He nods, waiting for you to stand right in front of you. He takes a deep breath as if to calm himself and places a hand on your belly, his palm right over the spot one of the babes always liked to kick into. “You are indeed getting rather large. What have you brought me?”

You look at his hand on your belly. It's a gesture that would be sweet between husband and wife, yet you were not that. Not anywhere close. His growing fascination with your bump always made your blood run cold for some reason. You empty your pockets, placing all of the contents on the desk in front of him. 

“The coin back… and these two things.”

He didn't take his hand off your bump as he watched your movements and inspected the items with his eye. 

His free hand then travels to your hip, pulling you closer to stand between his legs as he keeps his other hand roaming your belly, looking up at you and studying your tired expression. 

After a while he instructs you, his voice now much calmer and seeming almost content as he speaks, “Go sit on the bed. Don’t speak another word unless I say otherwise.”

You nod silently and walk over to the bed, sitting down and relishing the feeling of relief that overwhelms you when the weight of three is finally lifted off your aching feet. 

Watching him as he inspects the package and vile you see him smell all of it, grimacing at the smell of what must be a potion of sorts. You wondered what it smelled like but you knew better than to ask questions. He counts the coins, yet does not comment on them all still there. You want to tell him about the nice lady, but you know better than to disobey his command to stay silent.

He packed it all away, into the same drawer he had taken out the coins in the first place, then looks back up at you. He leans back into his chair, one hand resting on his leg as the other reaches for the cup next to him. “Take off your dress.” He orders and keeps taking the last few sips from the wine.

You do as told quickly, getting up from the bed to undo the straps that hold the dress in place and let it fall open, taking it off and placing it over a chair close to the bed before taking a seat again.

This was far from unusual, you knew his antics by now.

He preferred to play with his prey before devouring it.

Watching you intently he smiles as soon as the first patches of bare skin are revealed. He would never grow tired of ordering you around, too exhilarating was the power he held over you.

As a man, as a prince nonetheless. 

No one could stop him. 

Not his mother, not his wife, not the gods - and especially, not you.

He gets up and walks over to you, his eye roaming over every curve of your gravid body. Your belly grew larger with his children every day, your breasts too were round and swollen. 

They must hurt, he thought to himself from time to time, but until the milk would finally start to flow there was nothing he could do to provide relief. He had tried more than once already, ever the impatient man he was, though it seemed not to be the time for it yet.

His hand placed on your arm he firmly nudges you back and to your side. Lying there like this, on your side with your legs pulled onto the mattress, gave him easy access to indulge in you while also giving him a good view of the body he so worshipped. It was one of the very few positions in which he could take his sweet time without you struggling to breathe under the weight of his children pushing into you. 

He starts taking off his clothes when he strikes up conversation. It was odd, the calmer he took you, the more need for talk he seemed to have. Though the frequency in which he did this nowadays did make it normal to some degree.

“Tell me your fears. What worries you most about the coming birth?”

“Huh?”

Taken aback by his question, you struggle to find an answer. After many moments of tense silence, purely filled with the sounds of his clothes tossed away, you eventually reply. 

“I… I suppose dying…” 

It sounded more like a guess than an answer, Truthfully, you had never though of this yourself. 

Too hopeful that this birth could finally set you free from him, you had never nurtured any negative thoughts or critical questions about pregnancy or birth.

“Dying?” He seemed surprised. His hands worked on you with practised routine, pulling your body closer to the edge of the bed and pushing your legs forward to make space for him. 

He presses his bare manhood against the flesh of your core as he leans forward, hands roaming all over your stomach and breasts, firmly grabbing and playing with the nubs on them as if to check again for any precious liquid. 

“I take it you don’t worry about the lives of my children then. Only for yourself?”

“Of course I do!” You reply, voice a bit firmer now than before, feeling an immediate swell of anger and fear bubble deep inside you. Weird, that never happens. “I just… I think if I'm cold in my grave I can no longer worry about them at all. So, first should be the worry about my own life. Then, if I am to live through the birth, I can worry about them.”

“Interesting…” He says as he now turns his attention to his cock, taking it in his hand and running it through your folds several times. He was never a man that took much time to prepare you, he felt little need to do so. 

Your body responded within seconds of knowing what was about to happen, providing the necessary slick for him either way. On times he took you by surprise and pushed in without notice, it too had taken mere moments for your cunt to embrace and welcome him.

All mine. Responding just how she should.

“Then just trust me.” He says, grunting and huffing softly as he buries himself in the comfort of your walls, gripping onto him in familiar tightness. “You’ll see there will be little to worry about, sweet thing. Just relax. I’d hate to have you dead, too. You’d be of little use in a cold grave for both my children and me.”

Rutting into you at an increasing pace he is soon moaning and groaning with each thrust until he has rid himself of all his spend, grinding it into the deepest parts of you with deep growls and laboured breaths as his own body collapses forward onto yours, his forehead resting on your temple as his hot breath on your skin sends gooseflesh down your body. 

He could not describe it, there was no reasonable explanation for it, but it was you who he had always taken the most pleasure from. No whore or his wife could compare. You had brought him a sense of comfort  he would find nowhere else.

While pleasure wasn’t guaranteed for you in all his takings, it was times like these you did feel it. Times like these where you felt less like a slave and more like a lover. When his bare, sweaty skin would cling to yours, the sensation of his hot breath on your neck making your own hitch in your throat, the inaudible words in what you think to be valyrian growled in his deep voice would make your stomach tighten in a familiar fashion.

In moments like these, you didn’t mind your fate too much.

The days pass and soon turn into weeks.

You never found out what the potion or herbs were about. Soon after that day however, Aemond had given you your own chambers for the first time ever since you came into his service. They were small and humble in comparison to his but still a far cry from what any servant or peasant could wish for.

A large bed with enough blankets and pillows to make it through the coldest winter nights, a table with two chairs, a sofa, two cradles, a wardrobe and other furniture, all made of richly coloured wood with intricate patterns and carvings. 

The chambers were far from his. He did not want screaming babes keeping him up at night, thus the adjustment needed to be made, even if the thought of your impending absence from his bed soured his mood already.

You may have been the prince regent’s favourite and were to have his bastard children, yet you were still a lowly bed slave, thus expected to give birth with only the standard precautions taken and to take care of both babes yourself. No wet nurse or handmaiden to help you. That much you were made aware of as soon as you had arrived in the Red Keep all those moons ago.

What is a frightening thought, to be so young and left to care for two babes alone, did give you a feel of hope regardless. 

Hope for some peace and quiet away from Aemond, hope for being able to sleep and wake up without his hands all over you, and the hope of him finally growing bored of you and relieving him of your service to him. 

There was only a small chance of that happening, you knew, yet you held onto that hope until the day he left for battle again.

He had indulged himself in you daily until then, knowing he would soon have no more chance to do so - at least for a while, until you were fully healed. 

When he had to leave for a long military operation he bid you goodbye before making his way to Vhagar. You watched him leave before retiring to your own chambers, happily confining yourself to your new chambers with books and yarn.

Less than a fortnight after Aemonds departure, the day had arrived. Going into labour in the late hours of the afternoon you had been bed bound for a whole day before your babes would finally make their arrival.

Two sons, healthy and strong despite their small size - the maester had assured you this was a common occurrence for twins. They would fill out soon, he claimed, aiding in calming your fears. 

To your surprise, you were not left as abandoned as you had expected to be. The maester cared for your body as you learned how to nurse your sons, how to change and bathe them. 

You were provided nourishing, large meals, lotions, oils and herbs, your belly bound by ever changing maids. You could tell these were benefits granted to you at the order of the prince. He must have instructed them to do so before he left.

Whether he did this out of the kindness of his heart or purely because he wished you back in his service as quickly as possible in the best possible condition you were not sure, yet you would not complain either.

All you did was focus on your sons who you named Aurelius Waters, the elder one, and Patroclus Waters, the younger one. Briefly had you considered naming them in the traditions of house Targaryen to appease Aemond, but he was not here. 

He could not interfere. They were bastards after all, so you took the liberty of naming them to your heart's content - the first time you've felt in control ever since being forced into his service.

Meanwhile, Aemond was busy on the battlefields, travelling back and forth between the crownlands and riverlands, aiding in one battle after the other as he brought victory after victory to his brother’s cause.

He found his days eerily quiet without the presence of his beloved bed slave by his side. His days seemed dark and gloomy, empty and devoid of life. He looked forward to when he would be reunited with you but to his dismay, his presence was needed for far longer than he had anticipated.

As the days went on, you had soon taken notice of both the maids and maesters who were seemingly fascinated by the fact that both babes were actually growing very fast and became more active than ever. Both were feeding at your breast all day long, soon turning plumb and full of life.

Why were they so suprised? Had they lied to you when they said all would be well?

You could not help but grow increasingly worried and suspicious at the maesters seemingly heightened interest in your sons, the words and warning of the mysterious old lady plaguing your mind even in your sleep. You started locking your chamber at night mere days after giving birth, finding yourself unable to sleep whenever you knew anyone could walk in and do something to your children while you slept.

You tried to stay calm, tried all you could to ease your mind. You tried to take a walk once. To go into the gardens you usually avoided for you knew there were often ladies whispering hurtful insults behind their hands. 

Walking there with both sons tied to your chest with a long, silken piece of fabric, you stopped dead in your tracks when you overheard the hushed whispers of who you assumed to be servans. You stayed and listened, like a deer hearing a branch snap. 

Really? One said. They wouldn’t do that. The other said. I’m certain! I’ve heard it with my own ears! Another proclaimed.

Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart skipped several beats as you continued to listen in on their conversation. You clutched your sons tighter and turned around on your heels, hurrying back into you chamber and shutting the door behind you with a loud thud, immediately turning the lock closed.

From that day on, the door would stay locked at all times.

You unlocked the door only on few occasions. Whenever a servant brought you food or came to clean, or whenever you put dirty nappies out for someone to take and get rid of. 

Maesters were no longer allowed in your room at all and no one was allowed to touch your sons. You did it all yourself. You could not bear the sight of anyone else touching them, too bad had your paranoia and fears gotten.

You kept the cradles right next to your bed and the babes tied to your chest more often than not. You slept only when they slept and fed, bathed and cleaned them yourself.

By the time Aemond finally returned two months after you welcomed your sons, you were a sleep deprived mess. Paranoid as ever with the door firmly locked at all times.

Something Aemond would be informed of by the maesters soon after his return.

masterlist part 2 >

[skyward-floored]

I’m developing a whole winter holiday thing for a modern Hyrule (I’m using it for IAU at least) because I wanted a Christmas stand-in of some kind so I could have fun with that. I’m still working everything out, but here’s my basic ideas (and thanks to Tellie for letting me use her ancient hero idea!):

SO instead of just one day, there are four days of celebration called the goddesses festival. Each have different traditions, and the first day is always on the solstice.

For the first three, a special centerpiece is used. Families all have different ones, usually passed down by parents/grandparents, but they’re essentially fancy candleholders. They include a candle (sometimes multiple), a rounded base to hold water, and a spot to place greenery of some kind. These are symbolic of how the three goddesses are connected and how their powers intertwine in the world. It’s tradition for the women of the family to add to the centerpiece on the days necessary. The centerpiece is taken down at sunset on the fourth day, to symbolize the goddesses departure after creating the world.

The first day is Din’s day, day of power and fire. Many people host parties on this day, with lots of dancing and food. Games and sports are played, and bonfires are traditional as well. Lights are typically hung in and outside of the home as a symbol of Din’s fire, and a way to brighten the darkness of winter with the promise of coming light. The candle(s) of the centerpiece is lit on this day.

The second day is Nayru’s day, day of wisdom and water. This day is more subdued than Din’s, often spent in reflection and dwelling on the events of the past year. Music is played— often concerts are scheduled for this day— and people often go around the streets and sing to and with their neighbors. Some people choose to fast, though not many. The bottom of the centerpiece is filled with water on this day.

The third day is Farore’s day, day of courage and life. This day is also referred to as Hylia’s Eve, since the next day is Hylia’s day. People decorate their houses in greenery, often including an evergreen tree, and if the weather is good, kites are often flown, as an acknowledgement of Farore’s title of goddess of wind. Flags, banners, and ribbons are often also put up. A small wreath or some kind of plant is added around the centerpiece on this day.

- The biggest tradition of Farore’s Day is the legend that Farore’s first chosen, the Ancient Hero, flies across the world on his crimson bird and gives presents to children while they’re sleeping. He does this in memory of Hylia, as a gesture of his love for her and her love for her people.

The fourth and final day is Hylia’s day, the day of light. Presents are exchanged (supposedly delivered to the children by the Ancient Hero) and families gather together to celebrate Hylia’s love and her choice to become mortal to save her people from Demise. Traditions vary the most on this day, but family is the most significant thread. There’s often a large meal at some point, and at sunset the centerpiece is taken down.

Each of these days is especially significant to different cultures. Gorons and Gerudo put emphasis on Din’s Day, Zora put emphasis on Nayru’s Day, and Kokiri and other forest peoples put emphasis on Farore’s Day. Hylians put the most emphasis on Hylia’s Day, but celebrate the other three with equal gusto. Other places put specific emphasis on certain days, like Holodrum with Din’s Day for example. Specific traditions vary widely depending on geographic location and upbringing/heritage, but at a whole, the goddesses festival is the most widely celebrated holiday there is.

[quokkareactions]

Late night scenarios with Seventeen vocal unit:

Warnings: none, just fluffy fluff

Jeonghan:

It's around 11:30 pm, you and Jeonghan both lying bed, scrolling through your phones, when your stomach suddenly rumbles.

"Hungry?" he laughs.

"Starving" you answer sheepishly.

So you decided to visit the convenience store down the street. 20 minutes later, you are under the fluorescent lights of the store, roaming empty aisles. You laugh as you try to stick to the list but end up grabbing a random assortment of snacks, ice cream and ramen.

"Do we really need three different kinds of chips?" Jeonghan asks, holding up the bags.

"Absolutely" you reply, grabbing a fourth bag with mock seriousness.

Back home you make a makeshift picnic on the living room floor, enjoying your impromptu feast while watching one of your favourite movies for the hundredth time. The both of you are too happy and full to care about the late hour.

Joshua:

It's a clear, warm night, an instead of going to bed Joshua and you decided to do some stargazing. Bringing blankets and pillows, you set up and makeshift bed on the balcony. The city below is quiet, the hum of distant traffic a soothing backdrop for your evening. The night sky is vast above you, filled with constellations, and you lie side by side, pointing out the ones you recognize.

"Look, that's Cassiopeia" you point at a cluster of stars, tracing the shape of the constellation.

"It looks like a crooked W" he chuckles.

You fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the stars twinkle above you. Feeling a deep sense of peace, like the world slowed down just for the two of you.

Eventually, you drift off to sleep, and Joshua pulls the blanket over the both of you, watching the stars for a while longer before closing his eyes too.

Woozi:

It's way past midnight when Woozi arrived home, tiptoeing into the bedroom so to not wake you up. Little did he know that you weren't asleep, just tossing and turning since you've gotten into bed. He sits down on the edge of the bed, head in hands. You, sensing his frustration, slipped out of bed and kneeled in front of him.

"Want to talk about it?" you asked softly, your voice filled with concern.

After a long pause, your boyfriend sighs and begins to share about the rough day he had. As he talks, you listen attentively, offering nothing but quiet support. When the words finally run out, he takes your hand and pulls you up to sit on the bed next to him, to then bury himself into your embrace.

"It's okay to have bad days" you whisper, your hand gently running through his hair.

You stay like that for a while, just holding each other, the weight of the day slowly lifting in the safety of the moment.

Seokmin:

It's 3:00 am, and neither of you can sleep. Seokmin suggests grabbing the old board game from the closet, something you haven't played in years. At first, it seems like a joke but soon enough, you two are sitting cross-legged on the floor, setting up the game pieces.

The game started lightharted, just the two of you joking around. After a while though, the competition heats up, with both of you getting intensely focused on winning. Laughter fills the room as you accuse each other of bending the rules.

As the game stretches into the early hours, you both end up too tired to finish, collapsing on the floor in a fit of giggles. You both fall asleep right there on the floor next to each other, the game remains unfinished, but neither of you care. It was never really about winning anyways.

Seungkwan:

It's well after midnight, but both of your stomachs rumble. Seungkwan suggests making pancakes, and before you know it, you are in the kitchen gathering ingredients. The kitchen is dimly lit, soft music playing in the background. He's singing along to it while waiting for you to mix up the batter.

You work in cozy chaos, both of you trying to prove you're better in flipping than the other. Batter splattered, flour dusted the counter, and the air filled with the smell of sizzling butter.

Minutes later you sit on the kitchen counter, sharing pancakes off the same plate.

"This is why I love you" you say through a mouthful of pancakes.

He grins. "Because I let you drag me out of bed for pancakes?"

"It was your idea! But no, because you make life delicious" you reply, leaning in for a syrupy kiss.