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dabisbratz · 7 months

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𝒮𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒯 𝒯𝒪𝒪𝒯𝐻 — shouta aizawa x male reader

w.c: 12.4k

warning: dbf!shouta, age gap, (sho in his early 40s, reader is 23), bottom!reader, daddy kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, feminization, mentions of gettin ‘knocked up’ regardless of anatomy, sneaking around, creampie, unprotected sex ( wear condoms ! ), praise/degradation, brat!reader, jealousy, mutual teasing, reader has an oral fixation, improper use of lollipops, mentions of exhibitionism, blowjobs, cumming untouched/hands free orgasm, ‘ taboo ’

sonny says..: not proof read, msorry !! did lotsa jumpin around while writin this. . . n five months later !! she’s all done !! ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝T ˘ T⸝⸝꒱ྀི১ ♡ m’a lil rusty, forgive me !!

You’re back home for the summer.

Well— not entirely. You’re back at your family’s summer house for the season. Gifted from your grandparents, it teeters at the beginning of a beach, crystal sands and clear, blue waters that stretch out into the horizon. You’ve been looking forward to it since you’d graduated, even if it did come with a set of overbearing parents and a sinful amount of sunscreen.

The air is hot and thick, sticking uncomfortably to your skin through the windshield as you watch an everlasting stretch of greenery and trees pass you by. The road has stretched on for miles, every upcoming exit and street sign blending into one as each hour passes by. You’ve got the company of staticky radio stations and news outlets, spewing something nonsensical about sports, politics, car insurance. . . But it’s the trip you enjoy more than the destination. Traffic and all, you prefer it over the muggy air and parental scolding. Though, the beach is nice. . .

“You’re sure you’re taking the right route?” It’s your mother speaking, her voice crackling through the speakers of your car. You’re sure she’d smack you upside the head for the aggressive roll of your eyes in her. . . general direction, but she’s not exactly within eye-contact distance. Not for another five minutes, anyway.

“I’ve been doing this for years,” You have— it’s true. Though you’re only twenty-two, you’d driven this distance since you’d left for college. There’s a sound akin to the sucking of teeth through the radio, and you have half the mind to turn around and restart your road-trip all over again.

“Why’s there so much attitude in your voice?” Her cheerful, smiley voice suddenly sounds much more shrill, to your chagrin. You thrum your fingers along the leather of the steering wheel, biting back a long, drawn out groan.

“There isn’t any,” Gravel crackles under the weight of your rubber-tire car, snapping and popping into the air as it makes a smooth halt into the driveway. Shifting gears to park, the radio switches off with the twist of your keys. And, perhaps with more force than necessary, you’re slamming the door to your car and face to face with your mother. Her phone is still in hand, eyebrows pinched at the thought of her very own son hanging up on her. “. . . attitude, Ma.”

She hugs you with a squeal, ushering you up the stairs to your childhood ‘home.’ It’s almost exactly like you’d left it— save for a few recent porch decorations and repainted walls. You hope the years have been kind to it, with the irregular weather and constant pipe problems. Floorboards creak under your weight, welcoming you home after a few long years of studies. There’s an everlasting stream of bubbly speech behind you, your mom speaking, but there’s already so much to take in.

The air is fresh and salty, hints of beachy winds flowing upstream through the doorway. It smells like home, and looks like it too, as you situate your small duffel bag by the stairs that lead to the bedrooms. Your room. You hadn’t packed much— there was still a dresser overflowing with old clothes in your bedroom, after all. And now that you think about it, you should probably change into something more fitting for the weather.

“I know you just got here,” The sound of ice swirling against glass catches your attention, and you turn to face your mother. “But could you bring these out to your father?” She’s holding a tray of decorative glasses— or at least, you’d always thought they were— full of oblong ice and freshly squeezed lemonade. The glasses are stocky enough to adorn lollipops— one each, which are probably sickeningly sour. Topped with tiny, colorful umbrellas and intricate swirling straws. It’s almost like she’s trying to impress someone, with the way she’s put so much effort into the drink’s presentation.

Your lips curl to form a playful ‘no’, a boyish smile pulling at your cheeks when she huffs— as if she already knows what you’re about to do. So you shake your head instead, stealing the tray with one hand, “Let me change first.”

In hindsight, wearing clothes about. . four years too small wasn’t a great idea. The shorts that once fit you perfectly— before your growth spurt— are now much too short, like they’ve been tossed around in the laundry one too many times. You feel almost naked, moving the pink hem down with the shake of your legs.

Your mother insists they look just fine, a dramatic downturn to her lips as she rambles on and on about how fast her boy has grown up. Still, as you walk through the sliding glass doors parallel to the open patio, the sunlight bathing your legs does nothing but make you feel stuck under a rapidly growing spotlight.

It all clicks as you walk outside— the detailed drinks, the smell of barbecue and fresh coal. There is someone she’s trying to impress, someone other than your father. Maybe both of them. On a good day.

Wiping the bead of sweat from your brow, your eyes squint at the man in front of you. Around your dad’s age— maybe slightly younger, he stands at a whopping six foot something. There’s age in his face, and worry between his brows as if he’d spent most of his youth grimacing. His hair is long and black like charcoal, save for a few streaks of gray and a salt and pepper ensemble of stubble littering his chin and jaw. Two scars— forming a cross of sorts, one beneath his right eye, horizontal and thin. But the other is much longer, starting below his brow and ending at his cheekbone. It draws your eyes to a milky gray iris— heavily contrasting against the natural black-brown of his left one. It’s pretty, cloudy and almost pearlescent.

His silhouette— tall and thick, with broad shoulders that travel on and on as he crosses thick biceps over his thick chest. He’s standing in the way of the sun, and yet, it peeks through his long hair in small, short leaks. And, surprisingly, his waist is small in his black tank top. If you feel hot he must be scorching, draped in black— down to the beaded bracelet adorning his wrist. His hands— they’re big, maybe enough to cover the entirety of your face, curled into loose fists at his biceps.

And— right, you’re here to help, not gawk. But you can’t help it, shifting your weight from one leg to another as his intimidating gaze slowly sweeps you over. He’s like sex on legs, and if you can squint enough to get the sun out your eyes, you swear you can see the imprint of his cock through his black shorts.

“Uh,” You blink dumbly after introducing yourself, and suddenly the tray you’re holding is weightless. “Ma made these. I’m supposed to help. . . or something. . .”

“Or something.” The man echoes, but it’s quiet and you barely catch it. His voice is deep, way deeper than your own, rumbling in your ears and smooth like butter. Almost husky, with a dark edge to it as flames roar in his face. But it makes your father laugh, hearty and jubilant as he bounces over to where you stand. He gives you a small pat on the back as a greeting, ushering out a small, “son.”

The heat emitting off the grill is enough to make a grown man cry, but neither of you wince when you walk by it. Cold glasses of lemonade are handed out, fingers imprinted on cold condensation painting the surfaces of each glass as they’re passed around— one for you, one for your dad, another for him. You watch rivulets of water drip from his fingertips, down his wrist, past the collection of veins adorning his forearm.

“Mr. Aizawa,” There’s a beat of silence, but it’s quickly filled once you’ve been introduced. “World’s cruelest teacher.”

“Shouta Aizawa.” Is all he says, a correction of sorts, voice grumbly as his fingertips brush against your knuckles. Your eyes flicker down to where he’d touched you, his skin warm and inviting despite the roughness of his palms. You see now, that he’s accompanying your father, occasionally taking over when he walks back into the house every. . . five minutes or so.

“An old friend of mine, we go way back.” Your parents have an odd habit of rambling, it seems, because you and the handsome stranger make exasperated eye contact as your dad begins to reminisce on old memories. “You met him a few times— remember? He’ll be staying with us, so be respectful, you hear me?” His gaze seems to dip for a moment, down your lips and straight to the extra exposed skin of your thighs, then settle back to the ocean before you can comment.

But those five minutes must start now, because after a firm squeeze to your shoulder your father heads inside, leaving you alone with his. . . friend. He’s awfully quiet, busying himself as the patio door slides shut— occasionally sighing as he wipes away the sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand. It’s obvious you’re staring, maybe a bit too hard, but he’s the best scene around, really. Even with the beach right behind him.

And maybe it’s wrong to think this way— but he’s hot. Old enough to be your dad and then some, sure, but it doesn’t make him any less attractive. He almost makes you nervous, the slow blink of his eyes as he pays you no mind.

“So you’re staying with us, huh?” You eye the juicy meat he’s been flipping for the last five minutes, golden brown and sizzling in the heat. It’s rather thick, soon to be lazily flattened by the tongs he's holding and— you can’t help but wonder. . . Is he good with his hands?

“Don’t make a habit of asking strange old men questions like that.” It’s not entirely clear if he’s serious or not, but he’s certainly assertive. Like a firm, guiding hand placed at the nape of your neck. Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, but before you can ask what he means, it clicks. You’d said it out loud, let it float into the air like an everyday, casual question. But Aizawa doesn’t seem exactly bothered, more passive (if anything), as he takes a swig of the fruity, sour concoction.

“You’re not strange.” Is what you conclude, slamming the tray down hard enough to rattle its contents, and the man notes your lack of regard. Even with a slight spill you don’t bother to clean, you’re already turning to walk off the patio and dig your toes into the hot sand before it can be mentioned— but not without plucking a lemon coated lollipop free from its icy enclosure of glass. There’s an arrangement of seashells hidden beneath the coarse mounds of the glimmering seaside. Different sizes and colors, different textures and shapes. Where some would scrape the soles of your feet, others would glide across them. But as a kid you’d liked the search for tiny crabs much more than the search for shells. Though you’re much older now, you’re not afraid to say you miss it.

“But I’m old?” Aizawa says, not too far behind you from where he stands. There’s a light glint of dry humor in his voice that sends butterflies down your throat and straight into your stomach.

“Yeah. Old enough.” Your small laughter is sweet, dancing in the air in a way that has Shouta nearly pressing his palm flat into the skillet— just to check if his heart is still beating. What do you mean by that, anyway?

There’s a divot where the tightness of your shorts dip into your skin, pressing against the plush skin of your ass whenever you bend over. Even as you’re upright, Shouta can’t stand to look for too long— you’re a real, proper, honest and genuine distraction. Yet here he is, watching you move around on your hands and knees, ass taut and round— shorts tight enough to show off the cute bulge of your balls from behind. And now that he’s really looking, it’s obvious you’re not wearing anything underneath.

He shakes his head, grunting to himself as he peels processed cheese free from its plastic packaging. You just met, that’s not right, you’re simply just minding your own.

“Ugh!” You share a groan, and for completely different reasons. Aizawa can’t help but watch you scramble in the sand, presumably after whatever sea-creature that had the pleasure to pinch you right on the finger. But you seem happy once it’s retrieved, stuck in the seclusion of its tiny shell as you hold it in your palm. From what he can see, you’re not much of a brat at all. Maybe your parents are just too hard on you. He’s always known them to be dramatics.

Still, he has half the mind to drag you over by your ankle, or maybe to press your handsome face into the sand while he fucks you from behind. Ever since you’d brought out that damned lemonade— tugging on the hem of the fabric as if you’d suddenly grown conscious of just how short they were— he’d been hard. And now he has to listen to you grunt and groan over the smallest of injuries. . . His best friend’s son, his presumed pride and joy.

He’s fucked.

From where he stands, slightly elevated, he can see the bulge of the sweet protruding from your cheeks, stuck afore your teeth. Cute, as it swishes from side to side, stuck in your mouth as your occupied fingers caress the diaphanous shell in the palm of your hand. Your lips move, puckered, around the sucker, curled and glossy with molten sugar— it’s hard to make out exactly what words your mouth forms, yet Shouta doesn’t think he’d be able to listen anyway.

Turns out the creature was a hermit crab.

Shouta learns this at dinner, the day’s hard work shared on plastic platters and glass

bottles in the middle of the beach. There’s a roaring flame between the four of you, it casts golden embers along your skin every so often, crackling into the air. Cicadas chirp with the night’s welcome, loud and joyful in retaliation to the silent, serene fireflies and settling ocean.

You’re all sipping on beers, some more than others, but it’s enough to loosen everyone up. Even Shouta, whose eyes look lidded with sleep the more he drinks. He’s not incoherent, he never is. If anything he’s observant. For one, you have an awful habit of holding onto this evening’s lollipop, it seems, as you have it situated between your fingers like a cigarette. Sometimes your grip around it tightens, like when your mother wraps her hand around his bicep, squeezing the flesh in small, sporadic rounds. And though neither of you want to say it, let alone think it— you’re jealous. That’s the second thing.

Even with Shouta’s knee brushing against your own, you can’t help it. He’s so warm, muscly legs pressed against your own in a manner that’s almost electrifying. You want it all to yourself, to suffocate in his heat and capable hands.

You zone out of the conversation, blinking at the fire with reserved eyes until a thick screwer pokes at the flesh of your shoulder, leaving behind a tiny dimple. Jet black hair invades your vision for a moment, smelling of faint seasalt and warm cologne, until you turn, “What?”

“You want chocolate on your marshmallow, right?” Your mother asks for him, squeezing a transparent bag of thick, soft marshmallows. It’s tossed to you in a flash, to which you catch, but not before stealing a glance at the man beside you. His jaw sets, poking out from the mass of stubble. Like she’d stolen a precious moment away.

“Right,” You mumble, stabbing the skewer through the excessive amount of sugar. The stick hovers above the fire, the sweet melting to a crisp, flaky brown. Sticky and gooey, it slowly begins to lose its form. Through all the conversation you can’t help but glance at the older man to your left, taking in the glow of yellow and orange caressing his tan skin. His silhouette is bold and broad, legs spread wide as he sits on a thick log. What was once brown turns a deep, dark charcoal. “Oh, shit! Fuck. I meant shoot, sorry.”

You’re not supposed to swear in front of your parents— Aizawa’s paternal intuition picks that up. But shoving the marshmallow into your mouth, even as it has yet to cool down, he doesn’t quite get. Either way, your expression. . . it’s sickeningly cute. It’s cute to watch you fumble. With lips pursed into a tight line, cheeks bitten and eyebrows pinched with apology despite how obviously uncomfortable you are with the piping, burnt sugar spreading along your tongue.

His heart could almost burst.

“You’re fine, kid.” Shouta’s voice is a gentle whisper, airy like the waves brushing against the shore. With his eyes caught on the sticky white lingering on your cheek, he's desperately aware you’re not a kid. The way you move and speak, the way you carry yourself. The way you suck on lollipops like they’re something else. He’s never been one for dirty jokes or subtle innuendos but. . . yeah, this is doing something to him. His fingers twitch with want, the desire to wipe it away and rub his thumb along your lips. He should really get it together.

And maybe the fact that he’s more worried about your parents being in the way than the fact that they’re your parents proves that.

But they’re pretty preoccupied, lost in conversation neither of you are exactly interested in. Whirling his own marshmallow, chocolate melts down its fluffy outside. It’s steaming, hot and fluffy after twirling around the fire. Looking at it now, it looks comically small in his large hands, much bigger than your own. His lips part, cool air leaving the ‘o’ shaped mold of his mouth as he blows on it with a low, “Here.”

There they go again, mouth open as your pink tongue covers your row of bottom teeth, Shouta doesn’t let go of the skewer despite the light squeezes you press along his knuckles. Instead he holds on tighter, lifting and reaching until the desert melts in your mouth and sticks to your lips. Messy on purpose, your heart plummets into your tummy when dark eyes watch marshmallow fluff pull away from between your teeth. Hungry, starving.

“I can do it myself.” You mumble, wondering if the heat prickling your skin is from the brush of his fingers against your own or the wilting fire.

“Can you?” His expression is tired and flat, but his voice tilts with blooming amusement. It’s odd, the way you’re so quick to shut him down. You almost respond more openly when you hear sneaky comments or listen to gossip— ‘that boy just doesn’t know what to stop,’ ‘why’s he such a smartass?’ — spoken about you directly by you.

“Yeah,” There’s a shine in your eye that isn’t just a product of the glowing fire. Mischievous, almost. “I don’t break that easily.”

Shouta could definitely take your dad in a fight. It’s the first thing that pops into mind as the two of you stand in the dark, dimly lit kitchen. Your parents had gone off to bed almost an hour ago, and with the clock approaching half past midnight, it leaves you two alone. So, yes, he’s considering who would win in a brawl because he can’t stop staring at his best friend’s son and his pretty, kissable lips.

They’re sheen with spit, your pink tongue licking them over as you scrub away yesterday’s dirt from the kitchen counter. It’s a noncommittal motion, your arms wiping suds and heavy contents of water along the granite surface. Yet you seem absolutely dead-set on getting that one stain. The stain that has your ass brushing against his side, bare skin rippling the harder, lazier, you scrub. Not that there’s even a stain to clean.

Yep. He’s fucked.

You suppose he should be focusing on the dishes— not that there’s much of those either— but his attention strays.

It carries him through the motion of leaning over, his body practically draping your own as you bend at the waist. Black hair again, wisps of it, lightly pressed against your back as he leans down, lips by the shell of your ear and an arm trapping you in. His cock is pressed right against the swell of your ass, and he may have to consider slipping it between his waistband.

“I think you got it.”

“Oh, really?” Your hips are moving again, side to side as you scrub shapes into nothing. “Double check for me?”

A low groan sounds behind you, big hands at your thighs that squeeze enough to have the plush skin bruised and tender in the morning. His hand travels, snaking up your thighs to meet the silky skin of your ass. Spread nicely with the way you’re bent over, warmth radiating off each globe as his thick pointer finger loops around the thin layer of pink cotton pressing against your balls.

It’d be so easy, perfect access to slip his thick cock into the warm, tight walls of your hole and pound you against the counter. You could sit on his dick for the whole day, drooling and dumb the more the head kisses your prostate again and again and again. Your Daddy could fuck you on your dad’s favorite sofa, make it squeal and whine under the weight of him filling your fucked-out and used cunt over and over.

Dark pupils blow wide as he pulls the fabric away, watching your hole flutter around nothing. He coos, sweet and deep. Just give him a minute, he’ll give you everything you need. Everything and more, until you’re a braindead fucktoy with glassy eyes and sticky, dripping holes. Until—

You’ve slipped past his arm, twisting as your growling stomach makes itself known. You inhale a quivering breath through your nose, eyes wide and expecting and waiting. His best friend’s son, wriggling and writhing under his palms, handsome face twisting as pearly teeth bite at your stout bottom lip.

He’s almost frustrated with himself, voice flat and distant when you puff out your cheeks. Forget a distraction— you’re a real, honest brat. “You’re still hungry.”

“I’m a growing man, Sho.” It’s almost consequential how your voice cracks, breathy and teetering the edge of a whine as he releases his grip on your body. Light from the fridge illuminates your silhouette in a yellow, halo-adjacent glow, and once again Shouta is staring a little too hard at his best friend’s son as he bends forward at the waist.

Aizawa weighs the juxtaposition between the middle of that sentence for a moment before his breath catches in your throat. Sho. You’d called him by a nickname, ten times sweeter than the candied fruit (grapes, are they?) you’re now sinking your teeth into. You’ve grown alright, and the proof stands hard, throbbing, and pressing against your shorts once you’ve returned to face him. It’s obvious your ploy with the fruit was just something to keep your mind off cumming in your cute, soft shorts— but he’d honestly have preferred to see that.

“I can see that.”

Rough palms press into your jaw— firm, but not aggressive, until fingers close and clasp at your cheeks. A dissolving layer of baby fat at your cheeks spills between his stern fingers, and you blink as the older man turns your face from left to right, then reverse. Seems he’s got a nasty habit of looking you over, breaking you down— bare bones. You still have enough room to chew, teeth grinding on the crystallized sugar with a hard and resounding crunch.

There’s always something in your mouth.

Dark eyes flicker to the lump appearing and disappearing in your throat as you swallow, sweet sugar dotting your lips, “You’re hard.”

“Yeah,” It earns a dark chuckle, though there’s not much light humor in it, “So are you.” His lips curl as he releases his grip, slow and lingering.

“Usually,” your gaze drops to his lips. “When two men,” Then up to his deep, dark eyes as you press against him, chest to chest. His cock twitches against the heat of your body, you can imagine it now— thick and pretty, curved upward with a sticky head and throbbing, heavy veins. “Make eachother. . . hard, they—”

A door slams upstairs, the air going still as your breath catches in your throat. As if that single disturbance has stolen all the oxygen in the world, your body goes rigid and stiff, and the sound of tired steps make their way descending down wooden stairs. The candied grapes are swapped for thick fingers, with light peppers of hair at the knuckles, and you can’t help but suck the seasalt right off.

“Behave.” He takes a single step back, dripping with indubitable authority that makes you feel light and airy. Ready to bend at his will with lazy eyelids and hazy eyes. It’s not a question, not a suggestion— it’s a demand.

“You’re still up,” Your father, shameless as he walks by the two of you with barely any coverings, makes a sleepy gesture in your general direction as he opens the fridge. “Both of you, huh?” He sounds faintly out of breath, and his skin sheen. The mental implications make you cringe, taking a step toward the characteristically nonchalant man who’d just stepped away from you.

Shouta’s eyes narrow.

“Don’t tell me I’m being replaced!” He’s always been a loud man, your father, but it seems tonight his one-too-many beers have finally caught up to him. It’s just a joke, the both of you know it, but you can’t help the prickle of heat poking at your throat. You’re pulled in by the back of your head, your father’s hand pressed against your hair as he holds you in a firm side-hug, “Rather Mr. Aizawa be your old man?”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Your smile is wide and tantalizing, heavy and dripping with something that has yet to be named. “Are you a good Daddy, Mr. Aizawa?”

Then, his eye twitches, “When I want to be.”

Your laugh is instantaneous and loud, an awkward thing that stretches into deep silence. There’s a lot of things you’d like Mr. Aizawa to be— rough, gentle, sweet, and mean. But your dad? It’s laughable, and couldn’t be farther from the truth. And sure, maybe the title you'd like to use on him sounds similar, but they’re most definitely not the same. If only he knew.

“I’m sure you’re the best,” He watches you smile, opposite ends of your mouth pulling at your cheeks in a motion that doesn’t quite meet your eyes— but it’s convincing enough. “Better than your other friends, right Dad?”

Shouta is avoiding you.

You know it, you can tell! He’s always gone nowadays— a couple weeks into your vacation and you can only count a mere handful of the times you remember seeing him. You’ve barely talked, barely stole a few glances here and there— he may as well have disappeared. He’s out somewhere, somewhere that involves your father, and the ocean, and his generously sized deck-boat. You don’t want to say it, but you know you’re the reason why. You’ve gone a bit overboard, perhaps, with the flirting. Ever since that night— even before then, it’d become a natural habit of yours to call the man Daddy.

And, now, he’s grown even closer to your parents because of it. Whenever you come down for breakfast they’ve already finished, leaving your plate in the microwave— as if you’d want cold, limp eggs and soggy, get charred bacon. You want to scream, really. There’s your mother, who leaves lingering touches and bats her eyelashes like some sort of schoolgirl. You feel almost evil for the rage that sears your blood— even more so when your first thought is she’s pushing fifty.

Then there’s your father. Who is and always will be, not if you can help it, closer to Shouta than you ever will be. They drink together a lot, the guest more in moderation, but it still hurts to see them laugh about old times— over, and over, and over again. Even when you’re the topic of conversation, despite your presence being completely ignored, it hurts. You’re right here.

So you mope, lounging around in your swim trunks. Your skin sticks to every surface, humid and thick as your mother complains to you about getting some sun, stepping out the house, then something about how you need to fix the look on your face. She says the warm rays on your skin will do you some good, the salty water of the sea against your body will toughen up your bones and loosen your muscles. But there’s really only one thing on your mind.

It trickles into about an hour and a half when Mr. Aizawa finally comes back. Your father too, you suppose, with flushed cheeks that only sake can replicate. It’s once you’ve been pulled outside and forced to stand in wet, thick sand that washes away from your feet with every sweep of the shore— that they return. Once the sun has begun to set, yet still bright enough to have your brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, they return.

“There’s my boy!” No one’s boy, actually. Your father shouts with an intoxicated wave, and the grimace on Shouta’s face is hidden behind his whipping hair as he slows the boat to a stop.

Or at least, you think so. It’s hard to see with the sun in your eyes, yellow and orange flakes of the gold star percolating your vision.

It dances along the surface of the ocean, pretty and shimmering the closer you step, the further you go, until you’re submerged in water from your knees—down. There’s a shout, something akin to a ‘catch!’, and you have barely any time to react to the ball that’s flying to you with an oddly precise amount of speed and velocity. You gasp, whipping your head back to catch the ball between two sea-soaked hands.

“What the hell?!” Your hands sting, pretty eyes blinking back at the two silhouettes in your vicinity. Mainly at Aizawa, who hasn’t even acknowledged you, let alone looked away from the resplendent horizon. And what’s so good about that? Of all things to look at— you’re right here! You don’t leave with the setting sun, nor do you only ever arrive with the rising one. You’re a constant, and you know you don’t hurt to look at.

So you throw the ball back, all your force behind it with a smug look on your face until it smacks Shouta in the leg— right in the center of his calf with a horrifying thump of a sound.

“Fuck,” You shout in horror, despite it all. Despite the desire to maul him the last few weeks, rushing forward into the water with the cutest tremor to your brows. “Fuck, okay, shit, my bad!”

And it seems you can’t move fast enough to wade through the rippling waves, where schools of tiny, nipping fish and textured shells had twirled and danced about through the currents of pellucid water. But Shouta seems just fine, almost as if he’d forgotten how to react to the feeling of getting punted with a ball at full force. He picks it up, waves it in his large palm, and throws it back. You can hear it tear through the air, just as it smacks you in the shoulder with so much force you don’t register it at first.

Numbness spreads along your arm, eyes blinking up at the older man who laughs. It’s quiet yet hearty, and not at all a pretty sound. It’s more contagious if anything, a wheeze of sorts, but your lips still curl into a petty frown regardless. You can make out a huff of “Your face!” broken up with laughter, biting back on his tongue.

“I’m not laughing.” You grumble, rubbing at your shoulder with faux diligence.

There’s an eerie smile on his face, enough to send shivers down your spine as water drapes your face and drips down your body— boat engine revving with ferocity as the men float off into the boarding dock— Aizawa’s presence arrives just as fast as it leaves.

You’re left to your devices, gawking as you process the last few minutes— his smile, your brattiness and stupidity, the way you’d only just noticed his prosthetic leg— at the mention you can feel miscellaneous fish brush against your own, scales shining through the transparent waters. You can’t help but smile too, wiping it away with the back of your water-draped forearm. Fuck.

It’s only been a month and you’re smitten. He’d left you in favor of your father again, and all you can do is giggle about it.

There’s not much you know about the man— now that you think about it. There’s been a brief drunken mention of him having kids of his own, a little girl, you think. Maybe a son? Despite his affliction for quiet, Aizawa looks as though there’s more he wants to say. To share, to tell. Your father must know it all, seeing as they grew up together, and part of you can’t help but feel a bit jealous.

Hmph.

“What’re you sulking for?” His voice has broken you out of a daydream, turning your body to look him in the eyes. The man of the hour— Shouta. You almost hate how quick you are to melt under his gaze, squaring your shoulders with the stability of poorly glued popsicle sticks.“That ball bounce off your head, too?”

“I’m not sulking.” You watch him walk around the perimeter of the shore, slow and calculating, with his hands balled up in the fabric of his black t-shirt. He pulls it overhead, tummy contracting and biceps rippling— it still manages to catch you by surprise, how much muscle he’s hiding under his baggy clothes. Your brain sets off a symphony of ooh’s and ahh’s, unable to tear your gaze from the light rise and fall of his chest.

Your eyes trail back up, past the bend of his collarbones, up the display of stubble on his throat— he’s staring right at you.

“Uh — I wasn’t. . anyway. . What’re you looking at?”

His lips twitch, briefly pressed together before relaxing as he steps into the cold water. He’s slow, hair rippling just as smooth as the ocean, the further he moves forward. And, despite that, he slowly curls a finger to and fro, as if he’s talking to a small kitten. “C’mere.”

You’re frowning when you trudge forward, hesitance in your step. “Mr. Aizawa,” you grumble, still something of a cute little sound, using the prefix your father introduced him with. Something about it makes Shouta’s frame stiffen— the title, or maybe the pettiness behind it. It’s not like you call him that when you’re in a particularly good mood. “You didn’t seem to want me around earlier.”

“Quiet,” He tuts, clicking his tongue as if he knows the game you’re playing. But despite the curt, clean-cut execution of his tone, his thumb finds your cheek with the same gentleness as a spring breeze. “Your parents were always around earlier.”

Oh.

You play off your surprise well enough, swatting his hand away with a deep grunt. Sure, it feels good. His hands on your skin— such rough palms that cover your body — but you’re not desperate. Not entirely, not even when he fixes the twist of your face with a quick look to your furrowed brows. You settle for a sigh, grumbling, “They don’t have shit to do with me.”

“You’re, what, twenty-five—“

“Twenty three.” You interject, almost proud you can correct him. Rivulets of water trail down your arms, and his gaze seems to follow its motion.

“Twenty three,” He echoes with something of a breathless sigh tilting his voice. For a moment you think it’s the interruption— he’ll work on it later. Maybe he’s been struck by just how much younger you really are. “They have everything to do with you. You’re still their kid, I doubt they’d be enthusiastic about leaving you alone with an older man. A stranger, at that.”

“But they did,” You look around, as if to prove your point. Shouta’s never been one for dramatics, let alone those fueled by snappy attitudes and rolling eyes, but it looks cute on you. Maybe even cuter if it were accompanied by tears. “They left us alone. . . Half naked. . . At a beach. . . Alone..”

“I get it. We’re alone,” Shouta’s voice has always been so deep, rumbly and tired and smooth in your ears but even more so when he’s irritated. “Drop the attitude.” It’s different in a way. Leaves no room for argument, though you still feel the overwhelming need to stomp your foot and keep on pressing. You can’t help the shudder, nor the goosebumps crawling up your thighs. It’s just so fun to push his buttons, to watch his passive face twist for a split second as he processes your words.

It’s not exactly hard when he allows it. Shouta lets you push until your heart’s content, only reprimanding you with a glance or cleared throat— and it’s almost eerie. You can’t help but feel

like you should be anticipating something, even as you stand flush against his thick body in lukewarm ocean water and he looks at you with contentment.

Then it occurs to you. . . He’s letting it build up.

“And you’re not a stranger, Mr. Aizawa.” Obviously you’re softening the blows, so he watches you step forward, arms crossed over his thick, plush chest. You’re just so cute, brushing past his overwhelming seriousness with a smile— albeit sly. He can’t stay mad forever. It’s not fair, how cute you are, with lips stretched out and teeth on display, with the apples of your cheeks rising, and the cutest little twinkle in your eye. He wants to kiss you. . . He wants to kiss you so bad it’s starting to hurt.

Especially when you lean forward, sunlight bouncing off the ocean surface and across your body— painting you in pretty, golden slivers of glow. Across your face, your chest, your stomach, your thighs. It’s been a while since he’s felt his skin against your own. Since he’s run his large, calloused hands along your body.

“What happened to ‘Daddy’?” He asks, absentmindedly.

“What?” You break his trance, looking down at yourself with a hint of something Shouta can’t quite place. Uncertainty, perhaps? Vulnerability, maybe. It’s odd, you usually prance around so confidently. You wear the tiniest— tightest— clothes known to man, have the smartest mouth, egg him on day in and day out.

That’s not it. You look smug. You’re playing him for a damn fool.

“Nothing.” Aizawa sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s wrong— it’s cliché, maybe even taboo. He wants to wipe that look off your face. He wants to kiss his best friend’s son stupid. The man he’d just shared parenting advice to, the man he’d spent years upon years of highschool, college, divorces, with. It’d been so innocent when he’d visit— maybe he should’ve never stopped. Maybe he shouldn’t have come back to see you in full bloom, so handsome and lithe and sweet.

“ ‘Nothing,’ ” You echo, snarky as you mimic the flat, detached tone of Shouta’s voice. If you weren’t sulking before you definitely are now, readying yourself to push past him like some spoiled brat who was just denied their favorite candy after being caught trying to steal it nonetheless. So He holds onto your bicep, squeezing the flesh as it flexes with your feeble attempt at struggling.

“Are you done yet? Or do you need a minute to calm down?” He shifts his weight, voice calm and level as he holds you still despite the straining. Not a single hair on him is out of place, his tranquility almost alarming.

“Let go, old man!” He has to ignore the rush of adrenaline the back and forth gives him— the way he has an incessant urge to squeeze your jaw just a bit tighter.

“Hey,” You watch his lips curl to coo, a tone somewhat akin to a parent shushing a fussy child. Your face is turned to face him directly, “How many times do I have to talk to you?” Then impossibly close as his warm breath pans over the expanse of your face, “What’d I say about the attitude?”

“I don’t care what you say about it.” Your face is squished against his palm as you go to squirm your way out of his hold, but with the way his head angles down toward your face— you can barely get the words to sound convincing. There’s a giggle in your voice, like you think his frustration is amusing.“You like it, don’t you? Forget strange, you’re dirty!”

He’s the only thing keeping you upright, eyes narrowed and lidded, “Stop fuckin’ playing with me, little boy.”

“Dad never lets me drive the boat,” Though the man can sense your whining from miles away, it still manages to catch him off guard. Shouta quirks a brow in questioning, hand hovering a polite foot away from your calf as you stand to walk along the wading boat floor. “Destroyed his last one when I was a kid,” (He doesn’t have to know you were actually nineteen when you did.) You speak in a tone that makes him think just maybe you consider it more your father’s fault than your own. “This one’s nicer anyway.”

“That’s wasteful.” Aizawa bites the inside of his cheek, brows furrowed into a familiar line. Had one of his kids done that it’d be a completely different story. Surely one they wouldn’t be proud of telling either. Through the corner of his eye he watches you dig into the cooler, scrabbling past the beer bottles and iced hennessy, to pull out an ice cream.

“To you,” You spare him a glance before finally plopping down in the passenger’s seat with much more force than necessary— especially when sitting on a boat. “I did him a favor.”

The cooler did a poor job— your ice cream is already melted and soft once it’s unwrapped. Thick, velvety cream that you lap up with your tongue dribbles down your knuckles. He should find it gross, but your pretty eyes flickering upward to meet his own as you take one long, slow lick up each bend of your fingers has done the complete opposite. Fuck. It’s hot— your sticky fingers and messy lips, your pinched brows and tiny, pleased whines.

If only it were his cock.

Shouta’s thick. Much thicker than your ice cream, he’s sure you’d feel a good stretch to your lips if you wrapped them around the head of his cock. You’d probably whine about how hard you have to try, how heavy it is on your tongue— how much it’s stuffing you full when it hasn’t even slid down your throat yet. You’d cry too, maybe, with drool slicking your chin and coating his dick in a pretty, shiny layer of thick saliva.

“Want some?” You lean uncomfortably forward, though your legs are over the arms of your seat and draped across Shouta’s lap. Already close, Shouta can smell the oreo on your tongue and vanilla cream by the corner of your lips. “You’re staring pretty hard.”

“Sit up,” The deflection is an answer in itself, yet the dark-haired man can’t find a reason to look away. “Before you hurt yourself.”

Instead, you take his wrist, thick and decorated with a long vein, to fiddle with his fingers. They’re long— healthy, strong, clipped haphazardly— big. He watches you split his fingers apart, lacing your free hand with his own— and though he remains with all five fingers up, he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the urge to close them around your much smaller ones. Shouta clears his throat while you hum, lapping at your ice cream before pressing your lips against his knuckles, “Want you to hurt me instead.”

“Hush,” There’s a sharp intake of breath, dark lashes fluttering as multicolored eyes glance past your shoulder. It’s evident he wants to say more— in the way he shifts his weight to lean outward. “You hardly know me.”

Your foot nudges his upper thigh, pressing into the firm skin as the boat moves further toward the horizon. It feels more secluded that way.. Private, even. As if there’s only the two of you left on the dreamy island. Your face looks a bit exasperated, like you’ve never had to work so hard in your life, and he has to admit it— it’s cute.

“I know you grew up with my dad,” He ignores the venom behind your tongue as you mention your father, letting out a low hum of confirmation. “I know you have two kids— adopted, right?”

“Hitoshi and Eri.” He interjects, voice soft and fond. You’d never noticed it before, but now you’re acutely aware of the gentle presence of breeze and rippling waters. Shouta’s relaxed face is much sweeter, still creased with age but not quite as deep. The cute, pinched dips between his brows are gone, but you know how to bring it back.

“Lucky. Wish you were my Daddy instead,” Aizawa isn’t sure which word he’s more hung up on, nor how it's so easy for you to completely twist his words— but as much as it rushes to his cock, gets him twitching in his pants and throbbing all the way down his heavy shaft— he doesn’t like it. You talk entirely too much. With lips much too sweet and sheen with cream. With a tongue that flicks and presses against your teeth when you smile. With a pretty voice he could listen to, all day. Something that’d sound better through choking and gagging—ragged and crackly and used. Your lashes flutter, soft and gentle against your cheek. “How old is Hitoshi? My age? If he takes after you, then. . .You’re just—“

“Listen to me,” Perhaps it’s not very characteristic of him, but he just can’t stop. Shouta moves without thinking, pressing his fingers into your cheeks until your lips are puckered. “For as long as I’m here,” he offers a squeeze. “For as long as your father is here,” then another, “Turn. It. Off.”

Your face melts into something floaty and distant, the smirk melting right off your face into something much more preferable. His thumb is so close, so close to your pretty lips. You blink once— twice, even— before regressing back into a grin, lips pressing against his long fingers. Fucking brat.

“I’ll just have to hit up Hitoshi sometime, then.”

The persistent comment nearly knocks him over, straight off the boat and plummeting into the cerulean depths of the sea. Instead, Shouta finds it better to step on the gas. . . To ignore the prickling heat in his blood, to ignore the easy taptaptap-ing of your fingers against the screen of your phone. It’s so easy for you to say anything around him— like a deliberate disregard for his reaction. His fingers thrum against the tiller, then wrap around its leather exterior to squeeze, and he doesn’t miss (not even for a second) the glance you give him through the corner of your eye.

The silence is almost painful. The motor speaks for you, loud and rushed and heavy. Aizawa’s jaw sets, clenched at each chiseled edge. His eyebrows furrow deep, angry, and his lips remain tightly shut. You can’t help but stare, watching his hair whip in the wind, dreamy and mellifluous. Not a moment of eye contact is shared, and you feel yourself slinking back into the white leather of your chair for the first time this evening.

Come the wooden dock just adjacent to the shoreline, Shouta’s throwing away wrappers (they’re all yours) and unbuckling his seatbelt. Your arms cross, a pout heavy in your lips as your eyes flutter closed. . Almost as if you being unable to see him makes him unable to see you.

“C’mon, baby.” You both miss the nickname, and despite the tension, it feels so natural dripping from his tongue.

Still, you whine. Mind occupied by your nearly offset tantrum prior to getting back at the dock. “I’m staying outside.”

“You’ll get heatstroke.” Shouta sighs, stepping back to lift you into his arms not even a moment later. You consider it ironic, for a moment, he always wears black despite the scorching heat. Bent at the waist as he leans over the open inside of the boat to unbuckle your seatbelt, his face remains stoic as your arms flail and fly to push him away. Your pretty face morphs into a nasty scowl, grumbles and mumbles toppling from your lips— you’re embarrassed.

He sets you down on the creaking wood, hands placed steady at your waist and shoulder to keep you upright— in your feeble attempt at escapism, your last result was simply going limp.

You just won’t budge, standing planted at the end of the dock despite the tugs to your biceps, forearm— hands, wrists. Your last attempt at pushing him away ends up in stumbles, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stomp down the polished dock, eyes hardening with the contact of deep, dark pools in Aizawa’s irises.

You were holding hands.

It’s been days. You haven’t left your room in days. At first, Shouta doesn’t worry. He doesn’t think twice about it, doesn’t question why you don’t come downstairs. When he asks your parents about it it’s always the same thing— ‘That’s just how he is when he doesn’t get his way,’ or ‘He’ll come around.’ The more he asks, the mode suspicion, More questions, mostly wondering why he’s so enamored by their son— even if he had been closer to you when you were younger. But that was long ago, and you hardly remember.

And that isn’t even it.

He starts to worry, to feel bad, on day six. Not a single sound that even points to your presence. No creaking floorboards, no music playing from your old, antique and overpriced record player, no sounds of muffled laughter. It makes him feel out of his skin, like a bystander watching the inhabitants of this very beach house go about their day like nothing is wrong. But this wrong, so very wrong—

He wants you. His boy, his brat, his best friend’s son. It’s wrong and it’s taboo, but so help him, he yearns.

His feet had carried himself upstairs before his mind could, following after you a good half-hour later. You heard him on his way in, the shuffle of his slipper-clad feet from the outside of your door. Still, you’d made no effort to move, no effort to free yourself from the cocoon of your childhood blankets, no effort to open the door despite his gentle knocking.

“You ready to talk yet?” He was willing to brush it all aside. The pushing, the persistent flirting, the slight disregard for his feelings, the mentions of his son. Really, he was jealous. Maybe it’s unsavory for him to admit, maybe he shouldn’t think of his son as competition. And he knows, of course, there’s nothing there— he’s only ever competing with himself. He just can’t help it.

Maybe he’s a bit spoiled too.

“I don’t like being ignored.” Your voice was small, but he could still hear it through the door. He heard it all, every implication. His sweet boy, his spoiled brat. You froze, just briefly, before he let himself in. The door creaked slowly with its open and close, a gentle click of the lock as the air grew thick.

Your old bed is small and creaky. Almost as much as the underused floorboards, your old bedroom screams with just as much personality as it does neglect. There’s tiny figurines, posters, awards, memorabilia— but it’s all too clean. Even if it has collected dust, not a thing is out of place. Pristine. There’s a few scattered photos— awkward haircuts, familial pets, the works. . Unapologetically you, maybe when you were just a tad bit more naive— but you nonetheless. It even smells like you, just with a hint of sea salt and warm, summer-y vanilla. Shouta wants to bury his nose in it.

“None of my fancy college boyfriends liked it here, Maybe ‘Toshi would.” You shift your weight as Shouta sits at the edge of your bed, the springy mattress creaking ever so slightly. There’s something left unsaid between the small string of words— and it’s sour. Twists on Shouta’s tongue, like he’s bitten into old bread, and it’s not just the mention of past boyfriends. Sure, that’s not exactly what he’d call this. . . relationship, but it’s not like it’d feel wrong. And he’d certainly feel bitter if his son were in his shoes. “Guess my sheets weren’t silky enough. Can tell you what was, th—”

“I like it.” It’s simple. The admission— simple and sweet, like it’s obvious. Shouta watches your lips part for a moment, just to close again, like a fish out of water. You look so small when you’re caught off guard, glancing to the side and shifting your weight onto your palms as you sit in the comfy middle of your bed. He knows what you’re doing— redirecting the conversation by flirting (it does get his heart beating, he’ll admit it)— and it makes you seem softer, almost.

He watches you sniffle for a moment, a quiet sound as you shift your knees with exuberating coyness. Your eyebrows furrow, cheeks puffed into a pout because, “That's it? You just ‘ like ’ it?”

He’ll give it to you, you never give up. He’d been warned, he was skeptical, and he’s been proven wrong. And, in the brunette’s head, you’d tallied over three strikes. Perhaps he was being too lenient. And now, Shouta, the weak man that he is, simply wants to indulge.

“What else would I say?”

“That it’s nice,” You cock your head to the side. “That you’ve never seen a room so nice. Which m’sure is true, anyway. . Are you low income, Sho? I can’t imagine what it’s like being a single father of two— or one, since Hitoshi moved out forever ago.”

The older man takes a breath through his nose, and out through his mouth. Pretty irises flicker down to meet the rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers pinch the bridge of his nose. Then, like the tidal wave of emotion has washed away back into shore, his voice is level as he speaks, “You spoke to him.”

“You ignored me,” You say it as if it’s obvious, simple, that if you can’t have Shouta you’ll have to settle for the next best thing. And though it’s not entirely true, you only really stalked his social media to learn more about his father, you don’t think your heart can stomach seeing pride swell in Aizawa’s chest. “Wanted your attention, Daddy.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, cold air rattling the bones as he watches you stare up at him. Your eyes look softer, boyish, wider at this angle. His pink tongue darts over his equally pink lips, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“Show me.”

“Shh, sh, sh,” Shouta’s cock slips down your throat with a low grunt, the slippery walls clench around the fat head of his cock. Just as he imagined it, cutting off pretty whines and gasps, head bobbing back and forth— like you can’t tell whether it’s too much or too little. There’s a slight burn— the stretch of his thick, sticky cock nestled against your throat— but it feels good, heavy and throbbing in a way that makes your brain shut off so quickly you drool. It sticks to his shaft and slides down his balls, painting your chin in a syrupy-sweet layer of saliva, but you’re too far gone to wipe it away. Such a good boy.

He must’ve said it aloud, because there you are nodding, lazily bobbing your head as he grinds in and out of your mouth. There’s a loud, sticky sound coming from your throat, squelching and soaked, obscene in a way that makes you whimper around your heavy mouthful of cock. He’s quick to correct himself— you only ever seem to behave when you’re stuffed with his dick, and he can’t have you thinking your behavior is acceptable. With a grunt, deep and velvety, Aizawa pushes deeper into your mouth until you gag— tight throat convulsing and quivering around his shaft.

You slurp loudly, choking and gasping as you struggle to pull back. His balls hit your chin, heavy and sticky and so fucking good as tears stream down your face. You’re starting to get into it now, making a mess of yourself as you stick out your tongue to lick along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock, eyes focused on the rings of saliva holding you together. Shouta pulls out to let you breathe, his cock quickly liding upupup your throat and past your lips until all you can do is whine and lean forward, lips wet with spit as you chase after what you’ve been wanting for the past month.

“Stop fuckin’ moving. Let Daddy use your throat, wanna hear you cry on it,” The bulge of his fat cock shows in your throat, in and out, in and out, in and out.

You want to whine, to beat your fists against his thighs, and kick your feet— it’s all so much. He has you by the hair, big hand pulling and tugging, lifting you on and off his cock like a warm, tight fleshlight. You fail to bite back a growl, though it emits more as a cute, pathetic sound, glassy eyes focused on his cock being shoved down your hot, wet throat. It’s so easy to press your lips against the darkness of his pubes, to smear pre along your pouty lips and cheeks. His cock jumps in your mouth, thick and long and curved, leaking at the tip.

It’s hard to adjust to the stretch, sputtering and gagging with such cute, greedy sounds. You’re getting ahead of yourself, eager, tongue lapping at the achy underside of his dick, pressed against his balls. And, with a gasp, Shouta pulls out, huffs and unintelligible groans filling the air. The blushing head of his cock taps against your cheek. Once, twice, again and again. “C’mere.”

And yet, despite all that bark, your eyes barely make contact with the ones above you. Instead they trace the pulse of his shaft, how heavy his cock hangs between his legs, how it makes his long fingers almost smaller in comparison. The way pre dribbles from the tip, sticky and warm and oh, so inviting. It’s as if he can read your mind, knows how badly you miss the weight of his thick cock stretching your throat, “You can do better than that," and you almost can't believe it.

Better? Your eyes flicker to the saliva dripping from your chin, suddenly aware of the slick pre smeared across your pretty cheeks and the heavy pants leaving your lips. What gets better than this? You let him use your throat like a new fleshlight, cried on his cock and muffled the sounds in his pubes. Ignored the aching of your own cock just to focus on his own, absentmindedly bucking your hips into nothing, even if it made you look like a pathetic puppy. Fine— you can show him better. You can break him first.

You blink rapidly, tears clumped in your pretty eyelashes, lips parting to, indubitably, sass the older man. “What, need help gettin’ it up? Fuck you, can do it m—”

Prideful boy. Shouta will have to fix that.

“— I wasn’t asking.” You really fucked up now, eyes wide as you’re lifted up by your throat and manhandled into Shouta’s strong arms. He smells good, and just as strong, as your face is pressed into his chest and your tiny, tiny shorts are pushed past your thighs. The air is cold, it spreads goosebumps along your skin, and you’re sure Shouta can feel them along his palm as he grabs handfuls of your ass. He ignores your off guard ‘Hey! I wasn’t done!’, ignores the squirm of your waist, ignores your poor, weeping cock.

Being the smooth, calculated man that he is, you’d expect Aizawa to put a rhythm and pace to his spankings. But no, there’s nothing for you to latch onto but the bundles of his hair as he hands out sporadic, random, and hard smacks along each globe of your ass. There is no back and forth, no favoring one over the other— it’s just where he wants, when he wants. If he wants to watch your thighs convulse and jiggle beneath his heavy palm he will, and if he wants to smack your hands away from his wrists as you tug and tug— he will.

Shouta groans when you let out a particularly pathetic cry, biting your lip and whimpering into his warm skin. You can feel his big hands part your cheeks, squeezing the skin until it spills over each finger and your ass has turned tender and sensitive. He coos, feeling you squirm and wriggle against his hold, “S’it too much? Daddy’s poor baby.”

It shouldn’t sound so sweet coming from his lips, even when it’s condescending and rough, even when he’s cracking his palm down again and again despite your kicks and squeals.

But it does.

“Da—ddy. . !” your voice quivers, hips rocking to an uncoordinated tune. So little contact and yet it feels like so much, his hot palms against your warm skin. . . The tears rolling down your darling face. . . The way your cock throbs against your tummy, your mouth aches with emptiness, your hole twitches beneath the weight of his fingers. The thought makes you want to whine all over again, body squirming and trembling as he holds and kneads the flesh of your ass.

“Quiet. I should shove my fingers down your throat to shut you up,” Shouta murmurs, so unnecessarily mean, kissing the dampness of your forehead before his hand cracks down against your plush ass three, four, five more times. You try to keep up your resolve, pretty legs trembling and knuckles clenching— but it’s just so hard. Being a brat is easy— it’s fun— you’ll give up a few tears, cry and pout, get your way. Easy. So you won’t break and give him what he wants. He’ll have to work for it, get a taste of his own mean, mean medicine.

Delayed gratification.

Wet llips open to speak, something smug and almost smart, but it’s reduced to a wet moan. You feel it—fingers spreading apart the globes of your ass, and more cracking down between them, on your empty, pretty little hole. For a moment your brain slips out of your body, thoughts static and turned to mush, fuzzy and convulsing where you lay. You process the sound of hushing, the feeling of wetness, the sound of slick spit against your skin. . . Thick, merciless fingers rubbing and tapping and sliding against you.

“Oh, god,” You sob, eyes fluttering shut and eyebrows pinching the second more pressure builds and— oh, a finger slips inside. “Fingers— that’s, oh god..” Inching in slowly, rubbing against your velvety walls and so fucking slick you’re beginning to see stars. Whatever you had your mind set on earlier flies straight out the window, your brain short circuits as your sopping hole flutters around his fingers, sucking them in.

“Fuck, baby, look at you clench on Daddy’s fingers. Want Daddy to finger-fuck this cute little cunt silly?” If you could see his face you’re sure he’d be smiling— an eerie thing, eyes trained on his fingers getting sucked back into you. Such a needy boy. “C’mon, say it. Tell Daddy you want his big fingers in your sweet, greedy little pussy.”

You can’t help it, hole throbbing rhythmically along his long fingers, squelching and gushing with stickiness. The swell of your ass ripples as you wiggle your hips, rising and falling to grindgrindgrind. “Fuck me already, c’mon, old man.”

“That what your little ‘boyfriends’ do?” Your lip quivers— he hadn't even flinched at the sass— and instead used your own words against you. “Oh, baby. They didn’t give that little boycunt the attention he needed, hm? That why you throw so many tantrums?”

Your hand finds his wrist, fingers wrapping around thick and strong limp just enough to get his hand moving, trying to guide him deeper, faster, harder. He should reward bratty behavior, but the words spill from his mouth almost immediately, “That’s it, just needed something to fill you up, nice and full.”

It’s ironic— he says it just before pulling out his soaked fingers. And, at your nightstand, opens the drawer to retrieve lube. You watch him pause, eyes scanning the contents of the drawer until his lips quirk downward. Lollipop wrappers. An ungodly amount— you really went on a hunger strike because he ignored you? For six whole days?

“What am I gonna do with you.” He sighs, but grabs a sucker regardless, tearing open its pretty, pastel blue packaging to reveal its red, shiny hard candy. He pops the treat into his mouth, holds it on the right side with his teeth, and squirts a generous amount of lube over the globes of your ass. His hands slip and slide as he guides it around, watches it dribble down your thighs and relishes in the way your hole opens up for him, soaked and sticky.

Your eyebrows pinch, hips wiggling as he pulls the lollipop free from his mouth and directs it against your own, “Suck,” He murmurs, but it’s forced past your lips before you can process the demand. Here come more tears, burning your nose as you hiccup out a tiny, overwhelmed, “Daddy?”

“It’s okay, I’m here,” He coos, circling the pad of his thumb along the rim of your hole. Even as your feet instinctively kick, there’s no reaction from him, just a pleased hum. “Keep sucking, atta boy.”

His thumb feels like a lot, makes you squeal and shiver as he presses it inside, and something hot and wet accompanies it. That's good, the heat of his tongue licking and sucking at your throbbing rim, bubbly spit dribbling down his chin and caught in his stubble. One hand is focused on fucking your boyhole raw, till your brain goes numb and you’re incoherent. His palm presses into the small of your ass, tongue working hard until your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your mouth flies open in a silent scream. He takes the opportunity to snatch the lollipop back, keeps his tongue pressed against your walls until—

He trails the glossy sphere of the candy down to your sloppy little hole, nudging and prodding until he slowly works the lollipop inside. “You can take it,” He growls, eyes trained on your fucked-out face. He can feel it, the tightening of your balls, the way your hole aches and pulses with the treat inside you. “That’s it, sweet thing. Wanna make this pussy cum, give it t’me. Let Daddy have it..”

He murmurs, and suddenly, instead of the treat that he’s popping back into his mouth, there’s the head of his perfectly thick, so big, cock pressing against your slick, thoroughly fucked-out hole and—

Oh.

“Sweet.”

You sob into nothing, back arching and spongy walls clinging down on Shouta’s cock as it’s worked inch by inch into you and— you can’t fucking believe it. You fought for so long, put on a bratty attitude and stomped your feet. Why would you ever push Shouta and his cock away for so long? Your breaths are short. Tiny little gasps as his large hands grip your ankles, spreading your legs open to get a better view of the thick dick pumping you full. Your pretty little hole, sheen with spit and lube, exposed and on display for him and his cock. And, yeah, this is everything you’ve ever wanted and more. . . You want him to break you.

“You’re— fuck, you’re so gross, Daddy,” Shouta grits his teeth, “Ohh, havin’ your best friend’s son on your fat cock, fuckin’ my pussy so full. . !” You’re straight up babbling, cross-eyed as each thrust knocks coherent thoughts out your brain. A real, proper slut, desperately humping upupup to fuck yourself on his dick. With this position— knees to your ears and holes on display, you barely have the control to move— but it’s cute to watch you try anyway.

“Shut up and take it,” He rasps, voice deep and scratchy in a harsh whisper as his hips snap back and forth. “Don’t want mommy and daddy to hear their son calling someone else daddy, do you?”

“Daddy— Daddy, my pussy—“ You’re babbling, it’s all you can do since Shouta is all force with his thrusts; takes what he needs, feeds you his cock good and so, so deep. Over and over, you let out broken whines, desperate for it, looking down as best you can to watch your own cock bob and jump against your tummy, thighs sticky with spit and lube. You can hear the sound of your slutty, pathetic moans, the wet plaplaplap of skin, lube trailing and frothing between your bodies as Shouta fucks into you. You can’t stop twitching— your legs, your hole, your cock.

“This is Daddy’s pussy,” He corrects, angling his hips just right, the heat of his cock pressing against every special spot you’ve got. Every bundle of nerves, every silky, spongy wall you’ve got wrapped around him. “Just like that,” You’re gagging for it, pouty lips parting with open-mouthed pants as he continues to watch your hole tighten around his thick, veiny cock. He has to swallow down his own drool, reaching deeper into you, your body jerking back as he pounds, and pounds, and pounds. You may not be a good boy, but you’re a damn good slut.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh. . .” Your breath is caught in your throat, and if you could, you’d scream, your body tensing as your cock throbs and bounces, cum spraying across your bare chest — stickiness shooting out your spent cock until you’re twitching, handsfree and body set ablaze. Shouta shows no signs of stopping, instead keeping his cock inside you as he flips you around, eyes narrowed. He fucks you through it, watching more cum squirt from your cock, leaky hole milking him for all he’s got.

“Dumb sluts love cock, baby. S’that what you are?” His voice is a low purr, pressing your face into the mattress, watching your ass fall back onto his cock until he feels himself aching hard, hard enough to start cumming inside you.

“Yeah, mhmm,” You drool into your pillow, absentmindedly fucking yourself back onto him. You’re desperate to chase after it, the searing spiral of pressure growing in your stomach, tight hole bearing down on his cock. “Daddy’s slut, s’me!” For a minute you think you’ve passed out, everything going dark as you ride out his hard thrusts, offering tiny movements of your own, up and down to satiate the erratic spasming of your hole, to feel his balls slap against your thighs.

“Good sluts take Daddy’s cum,” Your eyes, so glassy and empty, is what gets him, groaning loud as he pumps a load inside you. “Take it, boy. Let Daddy knock you up.” It’s messy, and downright pornographic watching his cum leak out of you, just for him to fuck it back in with the head of his dick. Shouta’s cum starts to kiss your insides and spurt straight onto that small bundle of nerves— fuck, it’s so deep. His thrusts are erratic and sloppy, thick rope after thick rope frothing around his shaft as he fucks it deeper inside. You never want it to stop, not the groaning or moaning, not the filthy sounds, not the cum filling up your hole till you can’t move.

He ignores your needy, overstimulated whines when he pulls out completely, his spent cock hanging heavy between his thighs. Even when you’re limp and boneless, body trembling violently, you want more.

“Da— Da—ddy,” You sob, eyes squeezed shut as strong arms pull you up and into even stronger thighs. Sitting on his lap now, Shouta coos hums, basks in the sight of his pretty boy’s afterglow.

“Daddy’s here. I’m here, I got you.” He whispers into your shoulder, and that’s all you need to hear. The thought of his best friend melts away— you’re more than that. You’re not just his best friend’s son. . .

You’re Shouta’s boy.

Summer is coming to an end.

There’s a seasonal chill in the air and it’s getting dark in the early afternoon. The beach has switched its course, currents changing direction and fish disappearing from the shoreline. The weather is turning, branches are starting to grow bare and bloom in color, the wind picks up, and the clouds have yet to dissipate into the sky. . Shouta helps you pack, grumbles when you press chaste kisses against his skin the whole time— shuts down the stomps of your feet while you whine, “I don’t wanna leave.”

“Spring break,” Is all Shouta says, his mismatched eyes downcast in a way that highlights his long, pretty eyelashes. Then, voice barely audible, he whispers, “I don’t want you to, either.”

Your body visibly straightens, giddiness painting your boyish face as you smile wide and big. The older man almost regrets saying it, huffing with you lean impossible close to hug him tight. “Will you call me?”

“Whenever you want,” He says, as if it’s the most simple thing in the world. You watch as he throws your large bag of lollipops into your carry-on backpack, but not before plucking a treat free from the others. “You know I will.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

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dcxdpdabbles · 7 months

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Hey, I dont know if you are currently acepting asks but... Please can you write something with Clockwork/Alfred? I'll give you a cookie?

I really love how you write and i cant find fics with this ship

Danny gets a cryptic message from Clockwork the night that he, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are supposed to go on a three-week College tour road trip.

A trip that they were going to use to decide where the three graduating students planned on going to college. Jazz was coming along to ease their parents' worry, mainly as a voice of reason. She had taken time off of work and classes just to make this happen.

It had taken months to plan.

So cryptic messages put a damper on the mood. Granted, all notifications from Clockwork were cryptic, but that didn't make this any less stressful.

He had just sat by his bed, leaning his back onto his lower bed frame and mattress, when he noticed the glowing sticker note on the carpeted floor.

"What does it say?" Sam sighs, closing her suitcase. She was kneeling a few feet away from him, double-checking their luggage. "A warning about the trip? Insight of an upcoming trial? Oh, let me guess, one of us is pregnant?."

"It's me, isn't it?" Tuck asks from where he's lying on Danny's bed. He places a hand under his chin with a sigh. "I've noticed a glow in my reflection lately. Danny, you're the Father."

"Shut it, Tuck." Danny laughs, turning the glowing sticky note over. "It just has an address, a date, and a time. Nothing else. I think he wants us to go there when the day comes."

Jazz walks in carrying a tray. She insisted they all take some bedtime tea to help them get enough rest for the drive. She recently started making her own blends after much research and experimenting. Danny loves it and always begs for a jar of her tea whenever he visits her. "What's going on?"

"We have to add a stop to the road plan," Sam sighs. She takes the black mug covered in white laughing sculls, nodding in gratitude to the redhead. "In one week, we have to go to Gotham."

"That's doable. We'll be going through Bludhaven by then. We would use the following two days to go sightseeing a few cities over, but we can sacrifice one of them to head to Gotham instead." Jazz hums, mentally going over their planned-out map that she likely memorized.

Danny groans, carefully resting the black mug with white constellations on the floor beside him. "I really wanted to see the hot springs resort, though."

"Member next time, Danny." Tuck pats his head while his own black mug- this one with little game controllers- is held carefully in his other hand. "After the baby is born, we'll go again."

"Why are you stuck on the whole baby thing?"

"Danny, that's no way to speak to the father of your children, especially while he's carrying," Sam chided from her corner. "The stress is bad for the baby."

"Please stop."

"But Danny," Jazz cuts in, sitting across from him. She crosses her legs underneath her, and her black mug with white books completes the set. "You should be supportive of Tucker in this very delicate time."

"I'm going to Go Ghost and never come back."

"I knew you be a deadbeat dad," Tucker tsks.

The four burst into impish laughter; the ease of the teasing joke and the calming tea rekindled the mood of excitement, even with Clockwork's glowing sticky note being shoved into their luggage to be revisited in a week.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Are you sure this is the place?" Danny asks again, leaning forward to where Tucker is driving.

Jaz looks around in fascination at the large houses and spacious yards they pass while Sam sleeps beside Danny in the backseat. She just finished her turn driving for seven hours and wanted to catch up on sleep.

Personally, Danny thinks she shouldn't volunteer for the first shift- they set out at four in the morning to keep to their road plan- but he knows no one else would do it if Sam didn't.

Neither Fenton works well before nine a.m., while Tucker needs help seeing in the dark, so he always gets the day shift.

Tucker's grip on the steering wheel tightens as he grits through his teeth. "For the sixth time, Danny, this is where the GPS said to go. I am literally staring at the icon move on the map as I drive."

"It's just....look at this place! It's rich people. I think they call the cops on us for driving through here." Danny defends, knowing his consent doubts driving his bed friend up a wall but unable to stop fretting.

"I don't think they call the cops....but I think we should move as quickly as possible." Jazz advised as the houses started to grow in both size and property amount. "We're almost there."

"Why would Clockwork want us to come here?" Tucker hissed as their old beat-up fan made a turn into a road that had the trees cut into arches above their heads. It was so obviously fancy that the three got highly uncomfortable. Even Sam's house wasn't so drenched in wealth, and this was just the front entrance.

"Maybe he wants us to investigate a haunted mansion." Danny offers, "Since we're in the area and all."

Danny leans back in his seat. He glances over at Sam; upon noticing the blanket she was using had slid down, he reaches over to tuck her in.

It's just as he sits back that his enhanced sight catches the faintest outline of a man in the trees, crouched down on a branch and watching them. Danny's heart spams, but he has no time to react further as the van moves on and the man's figure disappears in the floral.

"Holy shit!" Danny swears loudly, causing Tucker to jump and tilt the van.

"Dude!" Tucker hisses, "Don't do that! You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry, sorry." Danny places a hand over his heart, trying to calm the rapid beating. "I think I just saw a demon. Pretty sure that's what Clockwork wanted us to investigate."

"A demon?" Jazz whimpers, eyes flickering all over the trees with unease. "Are you sure it was a demon?"

"It looked liked like a one," Danny responds. "I highly doubt some guy will just go around dressed like a bat for fun."

" Great. Just great. A demon, that's going to be so much fun to deal with," Tucker complains, pressing on the gas more. They don't call him out as the feeling of being watched becomes suffocating.

The sooner they're out of the open, the better.

The end of the driveway opens up to a grand manor that would have made any noble Lord green with envy. Tucker drives around the giant fountain, pulling up to the park in front of the stairway of the main entry.

He squints out the front window as he loops before gasping. "Is that Clockwork?"

The Fenton Siblings each press their noses to the glass of their windows when they come to a complete stop. Both gasped at the exact same time and in the same volume at the man who was casually waiting for them at the door.

It's obviously Clockwork, but he's not in the form they are used to. Not the flouting child, not the sticking middle-aged man, or the aged old entity. No, the form Clockwork uses is a man in his early fifties, with the grace of a sliver fox and, oh, not a ghost.

"Hello, children," Clockwork says, walking down the stairs to meet them. The three are staring at him with slack jaws, half out of their vehicle but lingering in their doors just in case.

Sam snores.

"I'm ever so glad you have come." Clockwork continues, his green eyes flickering with mirth. A smile pulls at his lips, causing laughing lines to appear around his eyes, and it complements his warm bridge skin. He is not blue. "Not a moment too late. Punctual as ever, Jasmine."

"I- ugh, thank you, sir." Jazz shutters before getting her wits about her. "Why did you call us?"

"I will be delaying your trip for the next week." Clockwork lifts up a hand as if to stop any complaints this announcement may cause, which isn't really necessary, seeing as none of them can find the strength to speak. "I will, of course, make it possible to make up the time lost. I just need you four to act as my children for the next week."

"Why?" Tucker's voice is barely above a whisper.

"I can only keep this form for seven days, as I am not a halfa, but in that time, I hope to woo a man. He is a family man through and through, so if I can show him that I am more than capable of caring for a large family, it will help me in the long run." Clockwork then shrugs. "Plus, I need an anchor, and what better than four virgins?"

"Hey!" Danny shouts offended.

Clockwork raises a brow. "Am I wrong, Daniel?"

"No, but you didn't have to expose me like that," Danny grumbles.

"Who are you trying to woo?" Jazz asks, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Clockwork's cheeks gain a reddish hue, and the three eyes practically pop out of their socket. They never knew the time god could be so...human. It's jarring. "Alfred Pennyworth. The butler of Wayne Manor, four houses down from our manor."

"A butler?" Tucker repeats slowly, "You, the god of time and overseer of all that is, has been, and will be, want to seduce a butler?"

"Yes. He is the love of my core," Clockwork nods determinedly.

Well, who can argue with that?

"Alright." Danny agrees. "So what's our cover story?"

"Yes, my four children- all adopted- and I have recently decided to go learn about our family roots and visit our ancestral home. Only to remodel and check out the family records, we will be out by the end of the week to our next grand adventure. We are old money but one that faded from importance due to lack of contact with the rest of high society. To remedy this, I will be taking you to high-class events." Clockwork sighs dreamily. "We were invited by the Waynes to a gala tomorrow night as a welcome-back party. There, I will see Alfred."

"Alright. And the demon?"

"Demon?"

"A man in the driveway that looked like a bat." Danny helpfully says, even though his voice wavers slightly.

"Oh, you mean Bruce. Yes, that's Alfred's son. Don't worry; he can not cross our driveway. I put a spell that causes humans to forget why they were coming here if not invited by us. Also, he is not a demon. He is a human who dresses like a bat to fight crime. Bruce's children dress like birds to help him."

There is silence that sounds louder than it should as they all take in this information. Clockwork smiles at him, mischievous and graceful in equal parts as they try to make sense of the weird kid Alfred the Butler has.

"I'm going to need a lot of stress-reducing teas for this week." Jazz sighs.

"We can go buy some for you tonight," Clockwork promises, pulling out a black card and grinning with all his teeth. "We're old money now, darling."

"oh my god."

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Woo thy Butler my Lord #Old Timers #Fake family #Clockwork is human and here to simp #Bruce was checking out the new neighbors. He's suspicious of them #Team Phantom just wanted to check out colleges

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gffa · 4 months

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I've been a little slow on getting out new STAR WARS fic recs out, but in my defense it's because I've been reading a bunch of longer fics lately. In the spirit of "there's a special feeling to those fics that consume you and make you stay up until 3am because you can't put them down", here's a list of some of the ones I've loved or am in the middle of reading and they are haunting my thoughts and I need to inflict that on everyone else. Whether you're looking at a long upcoming trip and need some good reading material or avoiding your feelings by sinking into fic or just because you like reading, I hope you'll find something here! Including a bonus underrunning theme of throwing in a bunch of Jedi-loving fic to continue my agenda of making Jedi-centric fandom a more fun place to be. 30k+ is the minimum and this isn't all of my favorites, but it's a great list of "I have a week off to kill and I want to be in a fic coma by the end of it".

STAR WARS FIC FOR WHEN YOU NEED TO KILL ABOUT TEN HOURS WORTH OF TIME AND WANT TO HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT FICTIONAL PSYCHIC SPACE WIZARDS WHILE YOU'RE AT IT:

✦ Out with Lanterns by SkyeBean, mace & ahsoka & plo & shaak & cast, 312.5k In another universe, Jedi Masters Plo Koon and Depa Billaba decide a Padawan could do Mace some good. It takes a while, but he eventually agrees. When he takes Ahsoka Tano as his Padawan, Mace knows that he's broken through a Shatterpoint and changed the course of a life. How, he doesn't know. ✦ Reprise by Elfpen, obi-wan & qui-gon & mace & yoda & anakin & cast, time travel, 558.9k wip Ben Kenobi dies aboard the Death Star in the year 0 BBY. He wakes up shortly thereafter in the Jedi temple in the year 41 BBY. Haunted by memories and regret, Ben must forge a new path for himself in the Jedi Order of his youth while navigating the murky waters of time travel. Crafting a better future from bitter experience is hard, but learning to heal is even harder. ✦ Take it from the top and try again by mauvera, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & padme & mace & shmi & dooku & cast, time travel, 112k wip Five years into his self imposed exile on Tattooine, Obi-Wan Kenobi is gifted the chance to go back and bring hope back to the galaxy. With hindsight on his side, he fully intends to save his master, save his padawan, make some new and old friends again, prepare the Jedi for a war they’ll hopefully never see and begin to pull apart all the many tangled threads of the Sith Lord’s plans. Should be relatively easy. Right? ✦ Post Order 66 Exile AU by Livsy, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 46k Alternatively: after a failed order 66, in which many Jedi still died but the Sith were defeated, an exiled warrior and a boy wander a distant planet and attempt to get along. ✦ Remedial Jedi Theology by MarbleGlove, obi-wan & anakin & jedi & cast, 51.3k Let us consider the fact that the Jedi Order is a monastic religious organization based out of a temple, with five basic tenets of faith. ✦ Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi by stonefreeak, obi-wan & anakin & padme & yoda & palpatine & bail & dooku & mace & quinlan & vokara & ahsoka & cast, 124.5k wip By an old Republic law, all members of the Jedi High Council are senators in the Galactic Senate, and can thus be voted in as chancellor. A Senator from a less prominent planet has had enough of Chancellor Palpatine's incompetence and calls for a Vote of No-Confidence and the installation of Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. This one action becomes the catalyst that changes the direction of the galaxy. ✦ What We've Become by Vinyarie, vader & ahsoka & cast, 82k Darth Vader and Ahsoka’s fight on Malachor takes a different path, and Ahsoka actually is able to save her master. Or rather, she’s able to convince him to save himself. Diverges from canon in the last few minutes of Twilight of the Apprentice and goes increasingly AU from there.

✦ time to change the road you're on by wreckageofstars, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & han & ghost crew & cast, time travel, 93.6k wip The end of the Clone War is near - the fall of the Republic even nearer. Anakin Skywalker, caught up in the events that lead to the rise of the Empire and the loss of everything he holds dear, finds himself sent nearly two decades into the future. Ahsoka Tano, still coming to painful terms with the true fate of her former master, is - not exactly happy to see him. But the Force works in mysterious ways - and the future is not nearly as set in stone as they've been lead to believe. Multi-chapter AU, Rise of the Empire/Rebels-era. ✦ narrower than a razor's edge by bereft_of_frogs, obi-wan & dooku & qui-gon & anakin & sidious & cast, 30.2k Dooku tips his hand ten years earlier because he can't stand the thought of his former apprentice's murder, and that might just be enough to save everyone...if it doesn't get them all killed first. ✦ soften every edge by gigglesandfreckles, obi-wan & ahsoka (& anakin), major character death, 48.1k "Rejoice!" the galaxy says, in the wake of war and the dawning of peace. "How?" Obi-Wan asks. "No," Ahsoka says. (or: Obi-Wan & Ahsoka learn to live on.) ✦ hunting toward heartstill by blackkat, mace/cody & plo & fives & shaak & obi-wan & anakin & rex & cast, 207.2k Plo has an idea. Mace agrees, and everything snowballs right into hell from there. (Or: Mace and Cody get married in order to give the clones citizen status. Before they can focus on that, though, they're going to have to deal with ancient Sith artifacts, evil prophets, plots to overthrow the Supreme Chancellor, lost planets, monsters warped by Sith alchemy, inconvenient , and Darth Sidious turning his eye on a potential new apprentice. Just...not in that order.) ✦ Cataclasm by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & waxer & cast, 63.1k wip For reasons unknown to all but himself, Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Jedi Order in the midst of the Clone Wars, taking with him a single clone. Anakin Skywalker has been unofficially tasked by the Order to find Obi-Wan and bring him home. Unfortunately for Anakin, it seems his former master is always ten steps ahead of him. ✦ Unexpected Awakening (The Rewrite) by Rhiw, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & feemor & bruck & jango & cast, time travel, 135.1k wip The life of General Kenobi is cut short at the hands of his Padawan, but the sight that greets his eyes upon awakening is not that of blinding light of the Force, but the Jedi Temple he knew when he was still a youth. As he struggles to understand the path laid out before him, Obi-Wan unwittingly captures the attention of a singularly unusual Temple Guard, and that of a reluctant Qui-Gon Jinn.

✦ Knightrise by deviantaccumulation, obi-wan & ahsoka & satine & yoda & cast, 89.4k wip There is no battle on Mustafar or in Coruscant's senate building. Instead, a small but still alive Jedi Order rises from its ashes on Mandalore. ✦ Fire and Ice by Yesac, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 111.9k Anakin wins the duel on Mustafar, but doesn't kill Obi-Wan. Along with Padme, Obi-Wan finds himself living in a chaotic world where the man he thought he knew has become the thing he swore to destroy. Can Anakin be turned back? If so, what then? ✦ Better That a Millstone by Icarus_is_flying, obi-wan & luke & anakin & leia & cast, 86.7k Vader discovers Luke and Obi-Wan on Tatooine when Luke is one year old and attempts to reclaim the family he threw away. Obi-Wan is less than pleased, and Luke and Leia? They have their own ideas about how their future should play out. ✦ Bloodlines by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & dooku, 35.8k When an explosion traps them in the same doomed escape pod, Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Dooku are stranded together on Tatooine. The goal is simple: cooperate long enough to survive, and not a second longer. But a shared past has a way of connecting the people we think we know—and bloodlines run deep. [or: your classic family road trip across a desert planet, except your grandpa is, you know, a Sith Lord. And now he's sort of starting to bond with your Jedi dad. And that might be an issue.] ✦ When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place by IllyanaA, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 136k wip After killing three of the Jedi Order's best and brightest, Palpatine's fight with Jedi Master Mace Windu goes shorter than expected. Afraid he's lost his chance at recruiting a new apprentice, Sidious unleashes Order 66 across the galaxy, but, per their programming, the Clone Army is not to harm Anakin Skywalker. After witnessing the most painful loss he's ever experienced and injured at the hands of his captors, Anakin is ready to die like the rest of the Jedi, though not before getting his vengeance. ✦ Precipice by shadowsong26, obi-wan & anakin & padme & luke & leia & bail & ahsoka & rex & cast, 253.6k An AU in which Anakin Skywalker does not follow Mace Windu and the others to Palpatine’s office after they leave to arrest the Chancellor. As a result, he doesn’t get that final push over the edge, and doesn’t Fall. ✦ Averting Galactic Destruction by kj_feybarn, obi-wan & anakin & quinlan & rex & cody & fives & dogma & wolffe & plo & shaak & dooku & sidious, time travel, 44.3k AKA The Time the Force Sent Obi-Wan Back in Time and Quinlan Vos kept him from Going Kamikaze because let’s be Honest, Being Forced to Come Back in Time Would Suck.

✦ Into the Archives by skygawker, obi-wan & anakin/padme & palpatine & cast, 104.9k wip After hearing the legend of Darth Plagueis the Wise from Palpatine, Anakin decides that his best chance to save Padme is to break into the restricted Holocron Vault of the Temple Archives to search for information about Plagueis. Predictably, all does not go according to plan. Revenge of the Sith AU. ✦ Live To Fight Another Day by raemanzu, spica_tea, cody & rex & jesse & kix & obi-wan & anakin & fox & cast, 396.9k wip Clones have their place in the universe, beyond the schemes of Palpatine. Events conspire to place Rex on the path of a new fate, one which will affect the future in ways not even the Jedi could foresee. Loyal to source material and characterizations. Canon-divergent. Starts between seasons 5 and 6 of TCW and explores Rex’s reaction to Fives’ dying words and subsequent events building toward Order 66. Variety of canon characters. No ships. Very Ace and Aro. Strong focus on certain friendships (Rex and Cody, Jesse and Kix, etc) with those friendships playing major roles. Thematically about how the clones navigate loss, trauma, the concept of their enslavement, their identities, etc amongst the larger active plot threads. Content warnings for war-related PTSD, trauma, combat injuries, and all around war-related angst etc in later chapters. ✦ Life and What Comes After by Ibelin, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 177.2k wip Obi-Wan dies on Jabiim. Anakin blames himself, doesn't know how to go on and yet - he does. Maybe the Force rewards that kind of thing, or maybe he just gets lucky, but when a mission lands Anakin on a vaguely familiar planet, he gets a second chance to do what he knows he should have done in the first place: save his master. (And maybe a chance to save the galaxy, too.) ✦ Knight-Errant by zinjadu, anakin & ahsoka & obi-wan & padme & rex & jedi & clones, 315.8k AU - The Jedi Who Knew Too Much. Rex decides to stay "in pursuit" of his Commander; he jumps. Now, with backup, Ahsoka navigates the lower levels and deals with Ventress. Meanwhile, Anakin takes the Order to task, finds a little more support, and things turn out a little differently for everyone. And this is just the beginning. ✦ the massive machinery of hope by Killbothtwins, obi-wan & qui-gon & anakin & shmi & jedi, time travel, 150.1k After the end of the war with the Empire, Obi-Wan wakes up in his twelve-year old body. Now all he needs to do is convince everyone he's psychic, trick his Master into taking him on before he's sent to Bandomeer, redeem a few bad guys, and try not to have a nervous breakdown. Pretty easy. It's not like the Sith are lurking on the horizon, waiting to devour the Jedi Order.

✦ The Exchange by MissLearn, obi-wan & anakin & qui-gon & ahsoka & padme & cast, time travel/body swap, 120k The Daughter has a bad day and it irrevocably changes the fate of the galaxy, twice over. Or; ROTS Obi-Wan and Anakin are swapped with their younger, TPM, selves. It changes things, in both parallels. ✦ In All The World by Kjellarnen, obi-wan & anakin & cast, 144.8k wip The story of how Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi tamed each other, from Naboo to Anakin's early days at the Temple. ✦ In Another Life by KCKenobi, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme, time travel, 52.3k Eleven years after the rise of the Empire, a favor to a friend sends Obi-Wan traveling through the multiverse. He encounters different versions of the galaxy and of himself—including one in which Anakin never turned to the dark side. Obi-Wan and this Light Anakin are forced to work together to stop the creation of a disastrous Empire weapon. But as they move through different versions of reality, the timelines become more and more twisted—and the harder it is to distinguish who they are from who they might have been. And—to find their way home. ✦ The Intruder by Hollyoakhill, obi-wan & original clone characters, 82.5k When a vicious attack from a strange, indestructible monster traps them on a derelict star destroyer, a young clone trooper fresh from Kamino join forces with Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi to find a way to escape. ✦ Conceal Me What I Am by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & padme & yoda & mace & palpatine & quinlan & cast, omegaverse, NSFW, 108.3k Separatist Propaganda is turning the Republic against the Jedi Order and the Senate sees no choice but to join in a political alliance to fight dissent on a unified front.An alliance is proposed through an arranged marriage,between a Jedi Knight and Republic Senator. Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi are chosen as representatives of the political union by Darth Sidious, meant to bring ruin to the marriage and the public's support of the Jedi,for Obi-Wan Kenobi is not the Beta he claims. But even Sidious does not know of the secret Anakin Skywalker keeps, that he is not the Alpha the galaxy believes him to be. ✦ Equinox by lilyconrad, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 95.9k During the Clone Wars, Obi-Wan and Anakin crash on a remote planet and take shelter in the ruins of a grand estate only to find they are not alone.

✦ Invictus by Himboskywalker, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 40.3k "He is the balance, the other half, the completion to Skywalker’s soul, a perfect dyad in the force. But while Kenobi is a simple answer, the force also sees the difficulty of the pair coming together in balance. The foundations of the galaxy they exist in pull at them, threatening to intervene in their unity. But this is also a simple problem, for the force is far greater than the foundations of a single galaxy, for it is the foundation of all. So the force enacts its will, to bridge the pair over a span of moments, of years, of eternities, and Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi will fall in love, have fallen in love, and are falling in love." ✦ Neutron star collision by thedunesea, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, 121.2k wip In the aftermath of Order 66, Anakin Skywalker's miraculous survival after his confrontation with the new Sith Apprentice Darth Vader ignites a sparkle of hope in the remaining Jedi, in the fledgling rebellion and, above all, in his former Master, who thought he had lost everything to darkness. But darkness is generous, and it is patient. ✦ Lex Talionis by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & dooku & rex & cast, NSFW, 187.1k The ancient Galactic Republic is dying slowly—an ugly death of corruption, sprawl, and decay—with the sin of slavery hanging over its every triumph. The beleaguered Jedi Knights are too few to adequately patrol and police the entire Republic, and are faced with complacency and greed at every turn. Born into a crumbling and stagnant galaxy, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker are faced with the greatest challenge of all: themselves. Obi-Wan likes rules and control. When the galaxy around him stops playing by the rules, what is a Jedi to do? Anakin needs rules and restraint. When the galaxy around him conspires to set him loose, what is his Master to do? Falling slowly or falling fast, falling through lust or falling through wrath—it all leads to delusion and moral decay. What can be born from the ashes? ✦ Atlas of Our Ruin by Ripki, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, time travel, 230.8k Both the past and the future casts long shadows. Obi-Wan and Anakin learn that the hard way, when a mysterious holocron flings them backwards and forwards in time, forcing them to confront painful truths. But the time-travel is only the beginning… ✦ Seed by bell (belldreams), obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 44k When Anakin falls prey to a lethal poison, Obi-Wan has no choice but use all his resources to heal him-- no matter how reluctant he is in administering the antidote.

✦ wicked thing by imaginarykat, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, nsfw, sith!obi-wan, 124.2k wip There are rumours of yet another Sith Lord hiding among the Separatists. The Council sends Anakin to investigate. Anakin has a bad feeling about this. or, the story of how Anakin exists in a perpetual state of intense embarrassment, Obi-Wan is enjoying it a little too much, and everything is, generally speaking, a gigantic mess. ✦ Rulebreaker/Wildheart by chapstickaddict, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & luke & leia & barriss & cast, NSFW, 230k Darth Vader, the strong arm of the Sith, held loyal to his Order since they took he and his mother from slavery in the deserts of Tatooine. Until he became convinced they killed his wife. He abandoned his Order and disappeared in the chaos of the Clone Wars, presumed dead by all sides. That young Skywalker is known around town as a widower and homesteader; a Nabooian who emigrated to avoid the trade blockade; a father of overly-energetic twins and warding a Togruta war orphan; a decent mechanic if your farm equipment or maintenance droid is acting up. Anakin is a paranoid, over-protective hot mess doing his best to raise his weird pack the way Padmé would have wanted. How the hell is he supposed to do that when his kids and not-apprentice make him haul a half-dead Jedi Master home like a lost pet? ✦ more than a candle by jenmishe, obi-wan/anakin/padme, NSFW, 50.3k "The dark is generous and it is patient and it always wins – but in the heart of its strength lies its weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back. Love is more than a candle. Love can ignite the stars." Or, a few thousands of words of how Anakin, Obi Wan, and Padmé realize many things, which include, most notably, how they feel about each other and how to handle said feelings. Oh, and in the meantime, they deal with a megalomaniac Sith Lord. ✦ Anamorphosis by avocadomoon, obi-wan/padme & anakin & mace & corde & qui-gon & cast, 33.5k noun, plural an·a·mor·pho·ses [an-uh-mawr-fuh-seez, -mawr-foh-seez]. A distorted or monstrous projection or representation of an image on a plane or curved surface, which, when viewed from a certain point, or as reflected from a curved mirror or through a polyhedron, appears regular and in proportion; a deformation of an image.

#lumi.txt #star wars #obi wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #mace windu #qui gon jinn #jedi order #fic recs #star wars fic recs #long post #really long post

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hearts4court · 4 months

Note

Billy Hargrove x gf reader, idc if it’s smut or fluff or both. Just something where they’re in an established relationship

"Billy, you know i hate party's." you say to your boyfriend while sitting in his car after school, waiting for his little sister while he smoked. "Yeah, yeah. i know, baby. i just wanna show off my pretty girl, yeah?" he said, looking over at you with his pretty eyes that make you melt.

"don't guilt-trip me, you asshole." you say with a soft giggle that makes his lips curl into a smile. "My charms don't work on you anymore?" he asked, in a seemingly joking tone.

"Maybe. depends on the situation." you say leaning over to kiss him causing a smirk to form on his face before he pulled you into a kiss.

It felt like hours you were kissing Billy. But, it was actually only a few minutes, you know this because Max came knocking on Billy's window to get into his car to go home.

"Ew! get a room." she said as Billy let her into the car with his eyes rolled. "Watch the attitude, shitbird. i'll make you skate home if you continue acting that way." he scolded as Max rolled her eyes.

"Billy, be nice." you whisper before looking at Max in the backseat, "it's good to see you, Max. How's school?" you ask, making her look at you before looking back at the road outside the window. "it's—going alright, i guess." she said after a moment of looking at the road.

Billy rolled his eyes, you simply smiled. You were glad Max was talking to you, she didn't say much to you since you started dating Billy, which was months ago.

~~~~~

Your day with Billy consisted of him rambling on about basketball and you studying for an upcoming exam— which was normal activity for you too.

"Hey, Billy?" you randomly say after getting an idea. "Yeah, princess?" he responded as he lit one of his cigarettes.

you looked down, thinking for a moment before looking back up. "what if we go on a date Saturday, you know, like normal people." you say, you were being serious, but the last part you were joking.

"Sounds great."he said, blowing the smoke out the window. "Wait— really?" you question as he looks at you.

"i could always change my mind." he said, making you smile and hug him, kissing his face. "oh, Billy! this is wonderful news." you day excitedly, making him smile and chuckle softly.

"anything for you, baby." he said, kissing your forehead as you smiled.

Don't copy, translate, or repost any of my content w/o my permission.

#billy hargrove x fem reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove smut #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n

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futfemfantasies · 7 months

Text

One Less Lonely Girl \\ lucy bronze x williamson!reader

Prompt: 21. Reader singing One Less Lonely Girl to _________ on the bus on a long trip from a game to announce their relationship.

Short but sweet one :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You ready mi amor?"

Turning your head, Lucy leans against the doorframe, muscles on full display in the sleeveless England training top.

"Just finished, let's go before we're late"

Zipping up your England suitcase, Lucy offers to take it to the care while you get your backpack. A kiss on the cheek as a thank you and you quickly get your bag. Lucy jogs inside as you settle in your seat for the nearly 2 hour journey to St Georges Park. Jumping out ouf your thoughts, Lucy opens her door and waves around your white and green predators.

"You're a lifesaver, thanks baby"

This time, a peck on Lucy's lips as a thank you before she starts the car. Lucy's left hand never leaving your thigh tells you something's wrong. You look over at your girlfriend of just over a year until she realises you're staring.

"Something's going on in that gorgeous head of yours baby. What's going on?"

Now it was your turn to put a hand on her thigh. The car slows down to stop at the red light and Lucy looks at you with a hint of worry in her eyes.

"I think we should tell the girls. They're starting to catch on"

Lucy looks back to the road and you stay quiet. Lucy keeps looking over at you every few seconds, worried she said something that upset you. You reassure Lucy that it would be good as you wouldn't have to sneak around at camps anymore and your younger sister Leah is going to burst at any second with the year long secret. As you and Lucy talk about both of your upcoming move to Barcelona, you plan a way to tell the girls and fans.

Lucy pulls up to the familiar training centre and there's a few girls waiting out the front, including your sister. Without saying a word, Leah runs over to you and nearly knocks you over with her power. Not seeing each other for a while makes you miss your best friend, even if you are 7 years older.

After reuniting with your sister, you and Lucy greet your close friends as more start to arrive. When everyone arrives, Sarina calls everyone over to the bus and you get in first securing the table at the back. With Lucy behind you, she slips in next to you, holding your hand under the table. You both are joined by Keira, Leah, Millie, Ella, Alessia and Rachel. After many rounds of cards against humanity and Monopoly deal, you all decide to watch a movie. Ella turns on the tv and it was set to a karaoke mode.

"Karaoke anyone?"

Millie questions and the group quickly agree.

You find the mic so ultimately, you go first. You whisper to Millie the song choice and everyone groans at the familiar 2009 hit.

"...if you let me inside your world, there's gonna be one less lonely girl!"

You look at Lucy like she's the love of your life and no one missed it.

Keira looked at Leah. Millie at Rachel. Ella at Alessia.

No one could believe it. The two most private people on the team are dating.

"Well that's one way to announce it"

Rachel comments as she turns the next song off. The mic goes back to it's original position and you cuddle up to Lucy as the questions stand rolling in.

The bus pulls up to the hotel and Sarina tells everyone their roommates and thankfully, you and Lucy get paired together. You and Lucy high five while your wall neighbours, Ella and Alessia groan.

"We're all happy for you two but no funny business, I mean it"

Sarina warns you two and you both are confused on how she knows but agree anyway. Lucy gets the keys and you both make your way to the room. You flop on the bed and groan about how comfy it is. You feel Lucy fall next to you and you immediately cuddle up to her.

"How about we break the internet and hard launch?"

Lucy suggests, making you sit up quickly.

"Let's do it"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by leahwilliamson, alexscott, lucybronze, milliebright and 27,841 others

y/n_williamson: my yellow person 💛

view all 9,475 comments...

lucybronze: 🥺😘💛

y/n_williamson: mine 💘

leahwilliamson: i love seeing you happy 😊❤️

y/n_williamson: love you lil sis 🥰

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

liked by y/n_williamson, jorgebronze, leahwilliamson, keirawalsh and 38,487 others

lucybronze: soft launch who?

view all 10,645 comments…

y/n_williamson: i love you so much angel 💛

lucybronze: my best girl 💛

keirawalsh: you two make me sick, but I’m glad you’re both happy 🫶

lucybronze: was gonna say…

#lucy bronze x reader #womens soccer #woso soccer #lionesses x reader #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso

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misshoneyimhome · 1 month

Note

When William says, "You'll have my credit card to purchase whatever you want while I fuck you," you don't know where to begin. Is he doing this because of the tense conversation you had earlier today, or is this just a fantasy of his? Your moan echoes as he presses his tip against your cunt. As you stare at your screen, you're taken aback by everything. He encourages you to "Come on, baby." He slowly drags himself into you, his hips eventually hitting your lower back when he gives you all of him. You feel your body tremble in pleasure as he takes his time to move in and out of you. His pace quickens as he pushes deeper into you, and you let out a loud moan. You find yourself completely and utterly lost in the moment. "Good girl," he says. "What do you want next, huh? A purse? Shoes?" "I… I don't know," you admit. "What you need is to be spoiled," he says sternly. We all know Willy loves exploring his fantasies with the inexperienced reader. #SlutsforPresidentNylander

Ah, at last, I've managed to get to this! 🤍 My apologies for the delay 🙏🏼

But let's pause for a moment and relish in the thought of William's desire to spoil his girl endlessly! 😏🥹

This chapter ended up being merged with [Cock-ring] [Bikini] and [Reversed Cowgirl] - And as always, I hope you enjoy it 🙏🏼

Warnings; 18+ smut (as always); public fingering (in dressing room), oral sex (f receiving), penetrative sex (p in v), cum inside, sex toy (cock ring), more penetrative sex (p in v), more cum inside; you know the drill 😂

「Inexperienced!reader x Willy」

"du är min vacka prinsessa" = You are my beautiful princess

"Och du är min underbara prins..." = And you are my handsome prince

Word count; 6K

・✶ ｡ﾟ

All good boys go to heaven - But bad boys bring heaven to you pt XIV I William Nylander 🖋️⚡️💦

No one discussed what went down last night. It had been one of the most disappointing, frustrating, and painful games in a while, as the Leafs had had the upper hand, leading 3-0 in the second period. However, things then took a turn for the worse, and the match against the Hurricanes ended 4-4 in regular time, with no goals in overtime, and after five saves, Guentzel managed to score the winning goal during the shootout.

Everyone on the team was devastated. Although they knew they had fought hard, they were all disappointed in themselves for letting go of the lead, resulting in a loss. And you knew there was no way to console your boyfriend, William Nylander. He had definitely given his all, but in the end, it didn't make much of a difference.

You could sense that he was trying to stay positive and keep his frustrations in check during the post-game interview, but not even all the cheerful green colours in the spirit of St. Patrick’s Day could bring much joy to the situation. Even when you got back home, William remained quiet. Although he usually had a knack for not letting things get to him for too long, that night, he just wanted silence.

But he knew you were there for him, no matter what, and that meant the world to you. So, as you settled into bed, you gently cuddled, watching a few Instagram reels together as you ran your fingers through his hair, knowing it helped calm and soothe him.

And as you slowly drifted off to sleep, he wrapped a strong arm around you and quietly whispered 'thank you for being with me' in your ear.

It was a tender moment, slowly giving way to a new day where William returned to his usual self and the loss was behind them. For now, he just needed to focus on the upcoming road trip.

And Sunday turned out to be nothing short of exciting. With green decorations adorning the city, everyone nursing hangovers from the St. Patrick's Day celebrations, you and William enjoyed your morning coffees, planning out your day together.

"So, where do you want to go?" William asked with a gentle smile as you both sat at the dining table.

"Well, I thought you'd be in charge today, considering you're the one known as 'Styles'," you chuckled lightly, referring to the nickname his teammates had given him for his keen fashion sense.

"Are you sure you want to give me that kind of power?" He grinned confidently, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

Pretending to consider his question for a moment, you flashed him a sweet smile. “Actually, this might just be the one thing I do trust you completely on.”

And you didn't regret it. William loved shopping, and taking you along was something he truly enjoyed, as he relished the opportunity to spoil you rotten. Whenever you browsed through clothing, shoes, or accessories, he just wanted to buy them all for you.

Not that you were in need of his financial support or anything like that. He understood that perfectly well. But he simply wanted to lavish you with gifts. In his eyes, you deserved the world, and he cherished the chance to share his hard-earned money with someone who made him happy.

Of course, you weren't with William for his money. That would be a dreadful thing to suggest. However, whenever he treated you, whether it was to a meal or a shopping spree, you naturally appreciated his generosity. Anything else would be ungrateful.

Still, you made it clear that you didn't always want him to pay the bill. You wanted to maintain your independence and feel like the strong, self-sufficient woman you were, having worked hard for your own money.

But then William just chuckled, pulled you close, and planted a kiss on your forehead. “I know you're a strong and independent woman with your own money, älskling, but you're still my princess, and if I want to spend my money on you, you can't do anything about it.”

And that pretty much settled the matter.

What did stir up some other emotions within you, though, was when you were strolling around in one of the stores and some of the sales ladies were more than willing to help the two of you out. Well, at least when they saw William, giving him their undivided attention.

Their interest in him was glaringly obvious, and you had to maintain your composure to avoid reacting too hastily or strongly. You wanted to appear like the cool and confident girlfriend that you were, knowing that William was yours and they could droll over him all they wanted because he was with you.

But as always, William saw right through you. And he couldn't help but grin.

"What?" You almost snorted.

"Oh, nothing, baby," William chuckled as he approached you in the middle of the upscale boutique. "You just don’t need to be so jealous."

"I'm not," you tried to assert confidently, but it was futile.

"Yes, you are, and I love it, älskling," William spoke gently, leaning in a little closer to you and placing a kiss on your forehead.

And of course, he was right, so you simply let out a humph and turned back to your browsing.

William had already taken you to all his favourite shops in the city, and as you felt your shopping trip slowly winding down, you decided to seek out the last thing you felt you needed: a bikini. Sure, summer was still a few months away, but as the girlfriends and wives of the team had a tendency to treat themselves, including you, to the occasional spa day, you felt that a new bikini was in order.

And naturally, you couldn't try it on without your boyfriend giving his opinion. He insisted on you modelling every piece of clothing so he could make a proper decision. Yet you knew it was just an excuse for William to join you in the dressing room.

"Mmm," he simply nodded as he sat on the stool inside the changing cabin, a smile spreading across his lips as his eyes hungrily admired you.

“Mmm?” You questioned with a raised eyebrow, catching his gaze in the mirror. “Is that all you’ve got to say?”

“There’s not much more to say, baby,” your boyfriend chuckled lightly, slowly rising from his seat as he moved closer to you, coming to stand behind you, leaning into whisper in your ear, his voice tinged with desire. “We both know you look fucking hot, and I'm having a hard time not just taking you right here, right now.”

The air felt heavy in the confined space of the dressing room, William's body gently pressing against yours as he let his hand explore your skin, tracing down past your belly button to the hem of the bikini bottoms.

“Willy… we can't do this in here…” you whispered, fully aware of his intentions and the presence of the sales staff just on the other side of the door. “There are people right outside…” your voice carried a hint of panic, though you were already feeling incredibly aroused by his light touches.

“Hasn’t stopped us before…” he murmured into the curve of your neck, planting a tender kiss just behind your ear.

And you couldn’t help but release a breath as he continued to pepper your neck with feather-light kisses, his fingers slowly slipping beneath the fabric.

You struggled to keep yourself composed as your body instinctively surrendered to him. Your palms sought the support of the mirror in front of you as you gently tilted your head to the side, offering him more access and closing your eyes.

“You’re just so fucking hot…” he hummed against your skin, steadying himself with his other hand against the mirror.

William's touch felt nothing short of magical. And as his skilled fingers found your sensitive spot, you couldn't help but gasp, doing your best to stifle a moan.

You could almost sense the hint of a smirk on his face as he gently teased your clit, circling it with care, making you concentrate on your breath.

"Does that feel good, baby?" he playfully asked, receiving a subtle nod from you.

Of course, it felt good. And he was well aware of it.

William observed you in the mirror as his fingers danced over your sensitive skin, tracing them lightly along your folds, eliciting soft moans from you. Despite feeling himself getting harder in his trousers, he paid it no mind. All he wanted was to bring you pleasure.

"Mmm..." you softly hummed as he intensified his touch slightly. Your legs were gradually growing weak as your body yearned to surrender completely, yet you remained composed. Simply allowing the mirror to support you as your mind drifted into a blissful haze. It was slow and sensual, yet undeniably pleasurable.

"Shit, baby," William exhaled as he watched your reaction to his touch, seeing your eyes narrow and your lips part. And when he felt the wetness between your legs, he couldn't resist and slid two fingers inside you.

You let out a gasp as you felt him fill you up, biting your lip to stifle any sounds, but you couldn't help it. Your breaths became deeper and heavier as William began to move his fingers, stimulating your walls with each motion.

"Willy..." you moaned, your fingers pressing against the mirror as you felt a familiar wave of pleasure building up.

"Yes, baby…," he murmured huskily in your ear. "Don’t hold back... you’re mine, and I want them to know it."

His words, coupled with his skilled fingers pumping inside you, sent your mind into overdrive, and soon you felt yourself nearing climax. William was intimately familiar with your body, knowing exactly how to push your buttons.

So, there you both stood in the dressing room, William pressing his body against yours as he expertly pleasured you, your hands gripping the mirror for support as your moans grew louder, he propelled you into ecstasy.

"Shit..." you cried out, and with just a few more thrusts of his fingers, you allowed yourself to lean your head back against his shoulder, surrendering to the pleasure as you reached your peak all over his fingers.

It was incredibly intense. Never had you imagined that a man could bring you to orgasm with just his fingers. Then again, in the past 8 months with William, you'd experienced at least 20 times more orgasms than in all the years with your ex-boyfriend.

And as William withdrew his fingers slowly, you gradually descended from your high, opening your eyes in the mirror to see William's smug expression. "Damn you, William Nylander," you sighed, still amazed at how he always managed to leave you in such a state.

"Oh, you love it, älskling," he chuckled, planting another kiss on the side of your head. "And I absolutely love it when you get jealous."

Giving him a small smile, you let out a laugh, shaking your head before turning to face him and starting to remove the bikini. "Well, I suppose we'll have to buy this bikini now..." you pointed out the damp patch on the bottoms, prompting him to join in your laughter.

"Yeah, I guess we do."

And as you exited the dressing room, you couldn't help but notice a few stares, while making your way to the register. With William sporting a noticeable bulge in his trousers, you leaned in close and spoke seductively, well aware of the curious glances from the sales assistants.

"Sorry I didn't get to take care of you too," you smirked up at him, gently pressing against his throbbing member. But William just returned your smirk.

"Don't worry, baby, we both know I'll get my revenge later," he raised an eyebrow, and you felt a pulsating sensation between your thighs as he made the final purchase.

Shopping with William always brought heartfelt laughter, making it simply delightful. And as you returned home, you couldn't help but admire all the items he'd generously gifted you.

"You know," you began as you sorted through the clothes from today's haul, "you could have let me pay for some of it."

Casually snacking in the kitchen, William turned to you with a puzzled expression. "And why's that?"

You looked at him with a thoughtful smile. "Because sometimes I just like to pay for myself as well..."

"But why? I can easily cover it for you," he replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Well, yes, but that's not the point... Willy, you already pay for this apartment, and whenever we go out for dinner or if you fly me out for an away game..." you tried to explain.

You knew it might sound odd. Most people would probably enjoy not having to pay for anything and letting someone else handle it. But a part of you felt a sense of pride when you treated yourself to something with money you'd worked hard for.

"So what?" William shrugged, his smile fading and his expression turning more serious. "Y/n, why can't you just enjoy the fact that I like taking care of you? I have more money than I need for myself, and with you, I finally have someone else to spend it on... It's my money, and I get to decide how to spend it!" His voice rose almost to a shout, indicating this wasn't a topic to argue about.

A moment of silence hung in the air as you processed his words. It wasn't just about buying things because he could. It held deeper meaning for him; gifting you everything you desired was his way of expressing love.

So, with a soft sigh, you approached him slowly, wrapping your arms around him and offering a gentle smile. "You're right... I'm sorry. I've just... I've been so proud of being independent, of doing well on my own, that it's hard for me to let go. I know I should be grateful for all you do for me... I just don't like feeling too reliant on you. Willy, I love you so much, but after what happened with Liam... how lost I felt when we broke up... I just don't want to feel that way again."

William allowed a moment for your words to sink in. Though he found your stance somewhat unreasonable, and he believed you should embrace his desire to take care of you both, he respected your perspective.

His hands settled on your waist as he pondered for a moment before speaking again. "You know... it's cute that you're saying that... but the thing is, it'll never be like with you and Liam, because that would mean we would break up, and... I kinda don't want that to happen."

You couldn't help but smile. Despite his boyish charm and occasional difficulty in expressing his thoughts and emotions verbally, you could tell he meant every word.

"I don't want that to happen either, Willy," you gazed up at him, then planted a quick kiss on his lips. "And I promise, I'll try to be better at just... enjoying the fact that you're treating me like this – I guess I've just never been a princess before."

William let out a heartfelt chuckle, knowing he'd been calling you his princess quite often lately. "What can I say... du är min vacka prinsessa," he said sweetly, leaning down to let his forehead touch yours.

You took a deep breath, cherishing the tender moment, before mustering the courage to say some words you'd been practicing. "Och du är min underbara prins..."

William pulled back slightly, his eyes widening as a smile spread across his lips. "What did you just say?" he chuckled lightly.

"Impressed?" you smirked sweetly. "Just something Amanda has been teaching me..."

"Really? What else has she been teaching you?"

Once again, you paused to gather your thoughts. Speaking Swedish to William was a something you hadn’t done before, as you felt a bit insecure about it. However, his response encouraged you to continue. Keeping your gaze fixed on him, you pressed your lips together.

"Jag älskar dig, hjärtat," you said softly, the words flowing from your heart, and William felt the sincerity behind them. Amidst discussions about pregnancy and starting a family in the future, your attempt to learn his family's language stirred something in him.

"How are you so fucking incredible?" he exclaimed.

And with that, William drew closer, bridging the gap between you as he gently held your face and pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss.

It wasn't messy, but it was filled with longing. He then swiftly lifted you in his arms and carried you to the bedroom, where he could finally satisfy the desires, he had had earlier.

For the next 40 minutes, William showed you the depth of his love. Taking his time, he pleasured you as if he had been starved for days. Sucking and licking to stimulate your core, tasting every drop of your essence, he brought you to two orgasms.

Your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you as he devoted himself entirely to you. And what followed next was pure lovemaking. Although you both enjoyed exploring your boundaries and pushing each other's limits, there was something special about good old-fashioned missionary. Especially when all you wanted was to express your deep love for each other.

It wasn’t intense climaxes either of you reached, but it was heartfelt and passionate. As if you both were able to share your deepest thoughts and desire, creating a bond of endorphins between you.

It was just one of those laid-back days where you both unwound and enjoyed each other’s company. After a long day of exploring the bustling city, followed by a gentle session of lovemaking, the two of you curled up together for a nap on the sofa.

William's body was always the perfect pillow to cuddle against, his natural warmth comforting your soul as you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

However, after the nap, you found yourself needing a bit of space. While William was a fantastic cuddler, it could sometimes get a bit too warm. So, as William played some PlayStation hockey with a couple of his teammates, you lounged on your stomach with your laptop, scrolling through various websites.

Lately, you'd been considering purchasing some specific items but had been hesitating due to their high prices. And maybe they were a tad overpriced.

"Just go for it already," you suddenly heard William's voice, interrupting your concentration. Clearly, he wasn't addressing his teammates.

"What?" you asked, turning your head to him, though his focus remained on the TV screen.

"Just buy it! You've been staring at the same thing for like an hour, babe," William chuckled.

And with a sigh, you turned back to your screen. "Ugh, I know. I really want it... but these Valentino heels are just... a bit beyond my budget," you confessed. "And they're no longer in production, so their prices just keep going up..."

Your eyes were practically glued to the beige pair of heels as you envisioned them adorning your feet. So absorbed were you in your contemplation that you didn't even notice William pausing his game until he hovered over you, his arms and knees on either side as his face came close to yours.

"Hmm, they do look amazing," he remarked, his blue eyes focused on the photo. Then, gently, he reached for the mousepad, silently adding the item to the cart and proceeding to the payment page. Without a word, he entered his card details and made the purchase. "There you go. Now they're yours."

You couldn't believe it. Firstly, how he could remember his card number, and secondly, that he'd just spent more money on you.

"Willy, you didn't just..."

But William simply chuckled, still hovering over you as he planted a kiss on your temple. "Of course, I did, babe... and now, you'll have my credit card to purchase whatever you want while I fuck you."

His words took you aback. If you weren't already slightly stunned by his actions, you certainly were now. Although you were wearing rather short shorts while lying on your stomach, perhaps with your backside slightly raised, you hadn't expected William to be up for another round so soon.

But you were so wrong. Slowly, he began to peel your shorts down your legs, effortlessly removing your pants in one smooth motion, all the while planting kisses on the nape of your neck. You weren't sure what to make of it. Was he doing this because of the tense conversation you had earlier, or was it just a fantasy of his? Maybe this spoiling thing went beyond a love language, and it was actually a kink of his.

Nevertheless, you couldn't resist surrendering to his touch once again. And as his fingers found their way between your cheeks, gently massaging your core, you couldn't help but let out soft moans of pleasure.

"Willy..." you breathed out as you felt his thick fingers teasing your entrance, easing in to stretch you before withdrawing. William knew he was skilled with his fingers, as he had proven just a few hours earlier. However, in this moment, he desired something else.

Standing from his seat, he removed his bottoms before returning to kneel on the sofa, positioning himself on either side of your legs. Wetting his fingers with his tongue to taste you, he then ran them over your folds before positioning himself. With the laptop screen still in front of you, displaying more desired items, you moaned again as you felt William's tip pressing against your entrance.

"Come on, baby," he spoke huskily, his breath tickling your ear and sending shivers down your spine. His words alone had your mind reeling, and as he slowly penetrated you, stretching your muscles with each inch, you felt a deeper sense of pleasure. "Good girl."

You couldn't hold back your moans as your boyfriend slowly filled you, their volume increasing as he reached your deepest point, gradually pulling back before thrusting in again, harder this time. And then he repeated the motion, establishing a slow and steady rhythm, stimulating your walls with his firm member.

"Mmm, yes, Willy," you moaned louder, feeling his pace quicken, his hips slamming against you faster and harder, penetrating you deeper with each thrust. The lovemaking from earlier had transformed into something more intense and forceful, but you welcomed it eagerly. William's cock felt incredible inside you, and you surrendered completely to the sensations, lost in the moment as pleasure built within you.

Meanwhile, William's moans echoed yours, his breath heavy as he pounded into you. "What do you want next, huh? A purse? Shoes?" His words came out between breaths, but it was difficult to focus when he was pleasuring you so intensely.

"I... I don't know," you admitted, your mind clouded with bliss, your body tingling with the approach of orgasm as William's perfectly curved shaft repeatedly hit your sensitive spot.

"What you need is to be spoiled," William moaned, increasing his thrusts as he felt climax approaching.

You realised this was definitely a kink for him. And as he drove you higher with each thrust, you gripped the sofa cushions tightly. "Mmm... Willy," you cried out. "I'm... close..."

Your words spurred him on, his pace becoming faster and more intense. "Fuck... baby, me too... come with me," he managed to say in a husky tone as he continued to pound against your buttocks, leaving a rosy hue on your skin.

It was all quite overwhelming, but as always, it was nothing short of incredible. Your body belonged to William, and he knew exactly how to please you. Whether it was his fingers, his mouth, or his delightful cock, everything he did felt amazing.

And as he kept on thrusting into your sweet warmth, he pushed both of you over the edge, your moans blending in a beautiful harmony throughout the living room. Waves of pleasure washed over your bodies as you both reached climax, your minds lost in ecstasy while William released his seed into you.

Returning to reality, you chuckled softly, surprised by the new sides to William's desires you continued to discover. And turning to look back at him as he sat on the sofa, you couldn't help but smile.

"Twice in one day, huh? I guess I really am being spoiled."

It was the perfect end to a perfect day. And these memories would be the perfect reference when you found yourself fantasising about William during his five days on the road.

The road trip flew by faster than expected, but that was a good thing, especially since you had a little purchase you were thrilled to share with your boyfriend.

William was always generous when it came to buying things for you, no matter what it was. He even replaced your laptop after breaking it back in Sweden. He'd buy you anything, especially his favourite: sex toys.

He'd gifted you a few items to explore with, and you hadn't complained. However, this time, you wanted to be the one making the purchase.

And after your shopping spree and discussion about money, you felt it was time to reciprocate. So, on Friday, when William was back in Toronto, you cheekily handed him the small box containing your purchase.

Lounging on the sofa, William chuckled lightly as he took the box. "What's this?" he asked, pausing the movie which was about to start.

"Just open it," you smiled, sitting beside him, your eyes fixed on him as he revealed the cock ring you'd bought.

"Oh, thanks, but babe?" William chuckled again. "Don't you think I last long enough already?"

You couldn't help but smile, having expected this reaction from him. "It's not just about that, Willy... look! It vibrates too."

William spent a few more minutes examining the item, and as he realised its potential, he became more intrigued about trying it out.

"Oh... well, we better put this to the test then," he smirked, leaning in to kiss your lips.

But you stopped him. "I thought you were too tired after the road trip and today's practice," you said softly, echoing his words from when he had first arrived home. "And your feet hurt..."

"Hmm..." William grumbled, his eyes still fixed on yours. "That's maybe a little true..."

"It's okay, baby. We can use it another time. I just really wanted to give it to you," you flashed him a sweet smile. "Besides, you can't always get hard when you're this exhausted," you pointed out, and eventually, William had to concede to your logic. Although he yearned for your touch, his body truly felt weary.

"Do you still want to give me a foot massage though?" William asked in his overly sweet tone, the one he used when he wanted something from you. And you couldn't help but smile at his attempt to pull off a pleading puppy face.

"Hmm, alright, I suppose you deserve it - take off your sweats then, Mister."

Although the team had the best masseuses and physiotherapists on hand, William cherished nothing more than when you offered him a massage. Not that you were particularly skilled, but it meant he could admire the sight of you gliding your oily hands over his tired legs. And sometimes, it could even lead to a spontaneous round of sex.

But for now, you simply settled into position, straddling his legs with your back against him so you could still watch the movie. After oiling up your hands, you began massaging his large, weary feet, taking your time to ensure William felt relaxed and ready for tomorrow's match. And as the movie played on, you gradually worked your way up his legs, adjusting your position as you went to reach higher.

His muscular legs felt incredible under your palms. God, he was so sexy, and the sensation of touching him made your core throb with desire.

Meanwhile, William admired your body before him. Dressed in a sleek dress from your dinner outing, your curves and your pert derrière were a sight to behold. The way you took your time, ensuring every potential sore muscle received attention, made him feel nothing but amazing.

But it was when your hips pressed against his groin that he felt something else stir. Initially too tired for anything sexual, the touch of your hands and the pressure of your cunt against his clothed cock nestled in his boxers aroused him irresistibly.

"Mmm," you heard William moan behind you suddenly. You hadn't intentionally grinded your hips against him; it was just a reflex as your mind wandered, and you enjoyed touching him. But you had no doubt what those noises meant.

Turning your head to glance back at him, you raised a brow. "Oh really? Are you sure you can get hard?"

"Only one way to find out, right," William simply smirked, resting his arm behind his head.

And intrigued by the challenge, you slowly began to roll your hips, grinding your cores together. Both of you felt a thrill of satisfaction as your needy cunt grew wetter with each movement, and William felt his member slowly hardening, his boxers becoming tighter with each motion.

The movie was nothing but background noise at this point as you both became more and more turned on, your soft moans escaped your lips as you increased your motions, grinding harder and faster, feeling your clit being stimulated by your own movement.

Looking back at the man beneath you, you noticed how he kept his eyes half-closed and his lips parted to breathe deeply. "Does this help?" you whispered seductively, knowing William didn’t need to reply - his hard cock speaking louder than words.

Basking in the sight before him, William watched you through half-closed lids, his hands finding your thighs and unintentionally guiding your movements. "Yeah, just like that," he groaned softly, feeling the urgency to remove the fabric between you growing stronger by the moment. "Good girl."

Sensing that William was eager to continue, you paused your movements, sitting up straighter and pulling your dress up over your body, letting it fall to the floor.

His eyes followed your every move, especially as you then rose from your seat and slid down your knickers. And in response, William pulled down his boxers, freeing his hard member, and kicked them aside. "Pass me the cock ring," he commanded, and with a smirk, you happily complied.

William hadn't used cock rings much before, mainly because he'd never had any issues with lasting during sex, but this one seemed to offer a new experience. And as he slid it on, feeling the initial tightness before adjusting to the sensation, he then switched it on.

"Oh," he let out a small noise, feeling a new wave of pleasure course through his crotch.

"A good 'oh'?" you asked, hopeful that it wasn't uncomfortable for him.

"Definitely."

And soon, you were back in your previous position, at William's command, offering him the best view of your ass. It was a new position for you both to try, but what made it even more exciting was feeling the vibrations as you slowly let William's cock fill you up.

"Oh, fuck..." you moaned as he hit the end of your depth, your core pulsating against him.

"Please, baby... Move..."

And without hesitation, you began to rock your hips once more, allowing him to slide in and out of your throbbing cunt. However, supporting your hands on his legs as you moved, the massage oil made it a challenge to maintain your grip.

But William's firm grip on your hips helped stabilise you. And as you rode him in reserved cowgirl, both of you were surprised by just how good it felt. His shaft found your sensitive spot, much like in doggy style, while William's mind spun with pleasure as he felt your tight walls clenching around him, your ass bouncing right in front of him. Combined with the intense vibrations from the cock ring, you both felt an impending orgasm building.

"Shit... baby, it feels so good," William moaned softly, his eyes catching sight of your reflection in one of the decorative mirrors across the living room. Your face was breath taking as your parted lips gasped for air, your eyes struggling to stay open as you pleasured yourself on his cock. It was incredibly arousing, and his eyes were fixed on the sight as you slowly increased the pace.

"Willy..." you moaned, a mix of overstimulation and tiredness washing over you with every movement.

"Yes, baby... Mmm, I'm getting close..."

Not only had you managed to make William hard despite his fatigue, but your little gift and the new position had also brought him closer to climax sooner than expected. And you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

Usually, it'd be William taking charge, sending your mind reeling as he fucked you into oblivion. But tonight, things were different. William was the one struggling to hold back, his eagerness palpable as he tried to thrust into you.

Still, he tried to control himself, aiming for you both to climax together. Yet, it seemed as if the road trip had taken its toll on him. Without the chance to masturbate, he was more prone to reaching orgasm sooner than usual, and tonight seemed like one of those nights.

You felt your own climax slowly approaching, prompting you to push yourself to increase the pace, riding William with all your strength. Yet, it was overwhelming. Your legs ached, and the sensations of the vibrations sent your mind spinning, making it hard to keep a steady rhythm.

All you could think, was that you couldn't stop until William came to release, and thankfully, it didn't take much longer. With a few more minutes of fervent movements, William's chest rose and fell heavily, his deep breaths escaping him as he closed his eyes, letting out a deep grunt and released into you.

The living room felt oppressively warm, your bodies still connected as you both caught your breath. However, you knew you had to move, the sensations from the cock ring still coursing through you. And as you slowly disengaging from William, you couldn't help but smile at his satisfied yet slightly defeated expression.

Gently removing the toy from him, William looked at you with a tired but content expression. "Shit, that was hot..."

You returned his sly smirk, settling back onto the sofa, trying to avoid any of his release from staining the fabric. "It definitely was..."

"But I'm sorry you didn't get to come, baby," William said, sitting up to cup your face.

"It's alright, Willy," you chuckled softly. "I think I’m a few orgasms ahead of you... besides, this was pretty intense for me too, so it's okay."

William accepted your words, though he usually preferred it when you climaxed as well. But considering the spontaneity of tonight and your exhaustion, he let it slide.

"Well, thanks for the gift, baby. I hope it did something for you too," he said softly, a smirk dancing on his lips.

"Oh, it definitely did..."

You could almost still feel the lingering sensations from the vibrations in your cunt, and while you hadn't reached climax, you'd still experienced intense pleasure.

"I guess I don't mind you spending some money on me too then," William chuckled, pulling on his boxers before pulling you in for a cuddle.

"I guess you don’t."

It was another simple yet enjoyable evening, where you shared your deepest feelings, and the love between you was undeniable. Yet, there was one thing you wanted to discuss, something you'd been considering and were now ready to talk about.

"By the way, Willy, I've been thinking of giving up my studio completely..." you began, watching William's expression closely.

William couldn't help but smile. He knew this decision wasn't easy for you, but to him, it signified your trust and commitment to your relationship. It simply showed that you believed in him without reservation.

"Finally.”

#my asks #18+#Inexperienced!reader x Willy #william nylander imagine #nhl smut #wn88 imagine #william nylander smut #nhl hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs imagine #SlutsforPresidentNylander

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cheenapri · 1 month

Text

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

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.

#yandere illumi #yandere illumi zoldyck #yandere hxh #hxh x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #hunter x hunter x reader #yandere scenarios #male yandere #yandere x reader #yandere hunter x hunter

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flowerbetweenfangs · 1 month

Text

Marked By the Moon: Part One

CW: Dubcon due to heat/breeding. Originally posted on A03.

An oldie, but one of my favorites.

Buzzing shook the nightstand. Bluelight pierced through the blackness, making it impossible to ignore.

Reaching forward, Carmen groped across the polished wood, then seized her phone. Sitting up on her bed, she pressed the glowing screen to her ear. Sleep clogged her throat and eyes as she grunted out a greeting.

It was just after four in the morning. She knew better than to say “Someone better be dying”, because a call this early meant somebody probably was.

“‘Lo?” She gurgled, blearily staring in the darkness. Sweat clung to her face and clothes in the summer heat. Her window was open, the breeze doing little to cool her off.

“Carmen!” The voice on the other end was frantic. “You’re not going to believe this!” Several dogs barked and howled in the background. “I’m sorry for waking you up, but we’ve got an emergency surgery.” There were several grunts as her coworker pulled something. “I think some poachers got to him. It looks like he was torn open by a bear trap.”

The words floated in the air, before bringing horrific images to mind. Carmen’s phone beeped, indicating there were messages sent, images attached to them.

“I’ll be there soon,” Carmen was out of bed and throwing on her clothes. “Start prepping.” She pulled her dirty blonde hair back without brushing it, making sure it was secured in a knot at the back of her head. Squeezing into her jeans and a presentable shirt, she quickly grabbed her phone and quickly looked at the incoming messages.

What followed were images of a male ginger wolf, with a large wound on his leg and shoulder. His fur was damp, having been cleaned up. There was a muzzle around his snout, but his eyes were open and alert. He looked directly at the camera with what could only be described as a lupine scowl.

No matter how many injured animals she saw. Carmen always sniffed and felt a pang of pity for them. From little Spot and Mittens getting into a spat to the various wildlife people brought in, every creature needed a caring touch.

“He really tried to fight me when I put on the muzzle.” Anna’s words read. “ But a good jab of sedatives has him going night night. He’ll be completely under when you get here.”

“Sorry buddy,” Carmen said aloud to no one. “But your jaw could tear off our arms.” Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she started to psych herself up for the upcoming meeting with this new patient. There were several wolves in the area, but they tended to stay in the mountains and parks, away from the city. A local wildlife reserve rehabilitated them and worked closely with the clinic, taking on all sorts of feral creatures that didn’t belong in the city.

The poor thing was probably all sorts of confused.

Going to the bathroom, she splashed cold water on her face and sputtered, slapping her cheeks to wake herself up. Quickly, she brushed her teeth and let the rush of mint further energize her. This was going to be one for the books.

Seizing a canned coffee from the fridge, Carmen grabbed her keys and stumbled out the door. Guzzling it down, she drove through the dark streets, slowing strategically at speed traps. The one good thing about her random late night trips, the normal people of the world were still asleep. Although it was nearing a full moon, so the crazies of the world would be out.

Something dug into her hip. At first, she tried to ignore it, but it dug into the sensitive skin at every movement. It felt sharp. Adjusting how she sat, Carmen tried to keep her eyes on the road. She was waking up, but the risk wouldn’t be worth it.

Once she pulled up to a stoplight, she looked down to see a flash of silver wrapped in a leather string.

Reaching down, she fished it out and saw the trinket she’d bought a month ago, a piece of rose quartz with wire wrapped around it, a small crescent moon, tree, and wolf charm tied to the gemstone. It had been a weird impulse buy. She couldn’t help but think of how thematically appropriate it was.

Ducking her head, Carmen slipped the leather over her head and tucked it under her shirt. The light turned green, and she floored it once she got on the highway. The night whipped by. Rolling down the windows, Carmen let out a scream to further wake herself up. It was going to be a long day.

It was barely four thirty when she pulled into the animal hospital.

Anna let her in before she reached for her badge. She looked frazzled, her eyes wide and bloodshot. There were small scratches covering her arms, but it was a side effect of the job they were more than used to. Passing off the coffee, Carmen took the clipboard and quickly skimmed the contents. They didn’t have a lot of time.

“He’s completely out,” Anna said as they rushed to the surgery room. “I think he’s a juvenile. But it’s hard to tell.”

“Then let’s make good use of the time,” Carmen stopped to wash her hands. Once she was certain they were sufficiently clean, she went through the door.

On the metal table was the body of the wolf. His hind legs were being propped up by a stool. His paws and ears twitched in his sleep. Instead of chasing rabbits, he was probably thinking of chasing sheep. Or perhaps deer. Hell, he probably could take down a bear if he wanted to.

“I knew wolves were massive, but this guy is just…” Carmen fanned herself with the clipboard, trying to wrap her head around the sight.

“Huge?” Anna asked, arching a brow. “Even when I worked at the park as a teen, I don’t think the wolves there got this big.” She took a long drink from the coffee. “He’s bulky too. Nothing but muscle in there.”

“Yeah.” Carmen rubbed her eyes. The sight of the patient had completely sobered her up and released sleep’s hold on her. “Alright. Let’s patch this guy up.” Approaching the table, she placed a hand on the wolf’s haunch.

There was almost an audible snap as his jaw clenched, lips curling back to show his fangs. His whole body went rigid under her touch. Slowly, his upward eye opened and tracked, staring at her.

Carmen’s stomach dropped and she sucked in a breath. His paw twitched, brushing against her thigh. His claws could easily tear open her clothing and skin if he so chose. Silvery drool dribbled from his mouth, hitting the floor with a wet smack.

Blinking rapidly, Carmed put a hand to her chest and kept her breathing under control. The gemstone firm in her grip, she willed the wolf to go back under. Something tugged at her, and she smelled something… Musty.

The wolf’s eye rolled back and slowly closed again, his body relaxing. The drooling stopped. When Carmed rubbed her eyes, the puddle of drool was gone.

She was more tired than she thought. But she needed to give this patient the best care.

At least the sedatives were doing their work. Anna hadn’t seemed to notice the incident, having rushed to the front desk when the bell chimed, indicating they had another patient. No doubt this one would be making the rounds on social media, if not the local news.

She washed off the wounds again, then made quick work of them. His skin and fur were so thick that her tools were warped and bent when she started. Putting away the tools, she went and found the newest set she’d managed to scrounge up the money for.

Sutures were simple. Once she’d pieced most of him together, she bandaged him up. It was almost comical to see an entire roll wrapped around his leg, tufts of fur peeking out between the cloth. His paw twitched when she touched it.

Now she had to convince a wild animal to ignore his base instincts. With man’s best weapon. Painkillers and more sedatives.

His eyes moved under the lid, his nostrils flaring and lips twitching.

They didn’t have an Elizabethan collar big enough to put around his head. Carmen doubted it would stay on even if there was one. He would probably find some way to tear it off.

Hurt, thrown into the hospital parking lot, muzzled, sedated, then probably going to wake up drugged out of his mind.

“Don’t worry,” She said, patting the side of his head. “I’m sure the assholes who did this to you are going to get what’s coming to them.” His heartbeat thrummed under her fingers. Hands sinking into his fur, Carmen found it somewhat comforting. Warm. She found herself leaning down to rest her head on his side. Stopping herself, she pulled back.

How tired was she? Maybe she should have drank the coffee instead of passing it off to Anna.

Sighing, she rubbed her eyes.

Then, there was a growl.

Eyes opening, she saw the wolf staring at her again.

No, not staring. The light was gone from his eyes. His paws twitched, like he was running in place, but in his sleep. She debated on tying his paws, but knew the poor thing would only wake up more confused and scared. The sedatives would work on him for another couple hours. Moving the patient to another large kennel, she locked him inside.

Exiting the room, Carmen went to the back room and sat down, curling up in a chair and closing her eyes.

It felt like she’d only blinked when she opened them again. Her whole body was stiff and sore. Tilting her head back and forth, she heard her joints popping and cracking. Taking in a deep breath, she got up and went to check on the patient.

He had been moved to the kennels, a private section to keep him away from the domestic pets. His head laid on a pillow, his whole body limp. The exhaustion came through the glass, his expression pitiful.

“I called the Wildlife Reserve.” Anna said, coming in with a steaming mug. “They’ll be here to pick him up in half an hour. They had some… Colorful words for me when I told them we had already gone ahead and done surgery on him.”

Carmen crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I still want to know who the hell did this to him? Who sees an animal and thinks “You know what, I should hurt him?””

“I dunno. Crazy.” A buzzing rang through the room. Sighing, Anna turned on her heel and went to greet the customer who had just walked in.

Walking up the glass, Carmen put her hand on it. The wolf tilted his head to look up at her, eyes looking sorrowful. His sides heaved, the barrier muffling the whines.

Then, his head snapped to the area behind her. Looking back, Carmen saw uniformed men with a large cage. They towered over Carmen, their bodies thick with muscle. Their uniforms had the logo of the local wildlife reserve.

“Oh. I thought you wouldn’t be here for a while.” Carmen straightened.

“When we heard about the wolf, we had to make quick time.” One said, offering his hand. “Especially knowing he was injured.” The gloves were thick, ready to take on any bite. He was maybe mid thirties, with salt and pepper hair and dark eyes.

Carmen took the hand, shaking it. She wasn’t even sure if his fingers could move within the fabric.

“Well, he seems to be responding well to the medication. Here’s what we dosed him with.” She found the chart and passed it over to the agent as the other moved to the wolf’s room. He was younger, maybe in his early twenties with dark hair pulled back into a tail.

“Good. Thanks for taking care of him. We’ll try to see if he belongs to a pack not too far from here. If he doesn’t, then we’ll make sure to release him somewhere safe.” The man handed her a card. “If you want to visit him.”

“Of course,” Carmen heard the sounds of a struggle. Whirling around, she saw the wolf snarling and growling, lunging at the Agent despite the muzzle. They had him in a hold with a catch pole. He went to try and paw it off, before collapsing with a yelp when he put weight on his injured legs.

“Stand back, ma’am. I have to go help him.” The agent rushed into the room as the wolf continued to pull and twist, trying to get himself free.

When he opened the door, the wolf suddenly shot forward, knocking him aside and heading straight for Carmen.

“Shit!” Carmen didn’t have time to move as the wolf barreled into her. When she hit the ground, the Agents managed to get hold of him again.

Then, he lifted up a massive paw and raked it across her arm. Two long crimson lines formed across the skin. Blood welled up, dripping onto the floor.

“Carmen!” Anna shrieked, rushing over. “Oh my god, are you okay?”

“It’s fine.” Carmen insisted, getting to her feet. Drops of crimson fell on the floor. The skin was already red and puffy. “Jesus.” She struggled to draw in breath, her heart leaping into her throat.

The wolf continued to pull and tug at the Agents, but the second wind seemed to have gone out of him. Once they got him into the cage, the fight completely went out of him. With a metallic WHUMP, he collapsed, staring at Carmen through the bars.

“You need to go to the hospital.” Anna insisted. “That looks bad.”

“ER visit is not in the cards.” Carmen argued. “Can’t afford that.” She winced and cradled her arm. “How far away is the closest urgent care?”

Walking to the desk, she pulled out a first aid kit, popping it open with one hand. At least they had plenty to handle small incidents. No way was she going to walk through the front lobby while bleeding like a stuck pig. Pulling out disinfectant, she went to the bathroom and applied it.

The burning sensation nearly made her black out from the pain. Her head hit the wall, and she barely registered what Anna was saying. The other Agents were apologizing, or at least Carmen hoped so.

“- about ten minutes?” Anna frowned. “I’ll fill out the incident report.” She looked Carmen up and down. “You don’t look so good, you should take the rest of the day off to rest. I’ll call someone from the other clinic and see if they can cover the surgeries. Thank God those guys knew the nearest Clinic offhand.”

“Probably go there all the time themselves." Carmen shrugged. Anna reached over and helped hold her arm still.

"Thanks, Doll.” Carmed winced again, seizing a roll of bandages and binding her arm the best she could. The Agents were gone, with the cage loaded in a trailer. “I’m not even mad. Poor boy was probably scared out of his mind.”

***

The Urgent Care had just opened when she pulled up. Once admitted, she sat in the room, still cradling her arm. She didn’t dare unwrap the wound to get a better look at it.

When the door opened, Carmen jerked her head up to look.

The man who came through was older, maybe mid to late 40s. His hair was completely white, small bits of stubble on his face. Tired brown eyes looked her over, dark circles under them. A fatigue they both seemed to recognize and share a sympathetic half smile over.

“Alright, tell me what happened.” His voice rumbled, still raspy from sleep. He held up a clipboard, clicking a pen to take notes. Old fashioned, then. She caught the name on his nametag, Esau Remington .

“So, I’m a vet,” Carmen began, unwrapping her arm as she recounted what she thought was needed. He paid attention, unblinking and nodding.

By the end, his brow was furrowed, the pen’s clicker tapping against his lips.

“Are you sure it was a wolf and not a really big dog like a shepherd or a husky?”

Fishing her phone out, Carmen showed him the pictures that Anna had sent her. His frown deepened, his brows rising to meet his hairline, the pen twirling back and forth between his fingers. The corner of his lip twitched, and he sucked in a sharp breath.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” His cheeks flushed and he gave a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry about the language. It’s not every day you see a wolf.” Clenching his jaw, he looked at the wound on her arm. “Just the scratch? He didn’t bite you anywhere?”

Carmen shook her head. “No. They had a muzzle on him.” She winced as he rolled her arm between his fingers to look the gash over, making sure there was nothing inside it. The skin was more swollen, the congealing scabs weeping with clear fluid. “I’m up to date on my rabies shots and the like, unless you think I should take a booster?”

Shaking his head, Dr. Remington sighed. “No, I think you do need sutures though. He did a number on you.”

The pen scribbled as he took down a few notes. “I’m going to write you a prescription for some antibiotics and steroids. Take them all , even if you feel better.” The tone did not offer an argument. “And I’m going to recommend you take the next few days off. If you have a wily patient, you’re going to rip the sutures back open.”

Carmen let a groan slip past her lips. The Doctor seemed taken aback, pen pausing mid scribble. Brow cocked, he looked her over.

“I’ve got a lot of patients I need to look after.” She complained. “The wolf was a wild card, normally I just handle check ups.”

“I’m sure your patients would appreciate you in a healthy state.” Remington argued back gently. “Take some time off, don’t strain yourself.”

He looked over his shoulder, then back to her. “I know when I have some days cleared in my schedule, I like to go camping with some of my friends. We go hiking, swimming, and get to see nature.” Looking pointedly at her wound, he shrugged. “Although it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re a little sick of nature right now.”

With a sigh, he began to prep her arm. Another round of disinfectant, making her hiss with pain.

“I don’t mind nature.” Carmen shrugged, wincing as he began to apply the first suture. “Just don’t know if it’s a good idea to make a spontaneous trip into the woods with a messed up arm.” She tried to force a smile, but hissed when he pinched her wound closed.

Dr. Remington tilted his head to the side with a grunt of agreement. “True. But it was just a suggestion.” His Adam’s Apple bobbed and he swallowed hard, his lips moist. “Not to mention the meds you’re on… Probably will make you too woozy to do anything strenuous.” He chuckled. “I got a little ahead of myself, sorry.”

Carmen shrugged. “I get it. A little early, trying to wake yourself up.”

"I find it hard to sleep some nights. Especially around this time of the month. Always finding people doing stupid things. Must be the full moon."

Once he’d finished stitching her up, he presented her with a prescription and doctor’s note. After calling the clinic back, Carmen assured Anna that she would be back as soon as possible.

At home, she popped the first round of pills and collapsed onto her bed.

When Carmen woke up next, sweat soaked her sheets. Panting, she pulled herself from her blanket cocoon. The cool air of the night was like ice. Shivering, she popped another round of meds, then got into the shower, letting the water pour over her.

The sweat and grime from sleep rolling down into the tub made her feel a little more like a human. Her phone was blowing up with texts from Anna and other coworkers. Pushing her phone aside, Carmen collapsed onto her bed again, shivering and trying to cover herself up enough to combat the shivers, but not feel overheated.

Shaking, she tried to claim sleep, but it refused to come. Getting up, she began to pace back and forth across the floor, feet slapping loudly across the hardwood. The walls around her seemed to close tighter.

Opening her window, she popped out the screen and leaned out. A spell of dizziness hit her. Head swimming, she nearly fell forward. Holding tightly to the sill, she yanked herself back in, rear slamming hard against the floor. Leaning against her bed, she took a few shaky breaths.

Closing her eyes, she drug the sweat soaked blanket down from her bed and wrapped it around herself, falling into a fitful sleep.

When the first rays of sun pierced the open window, chilly winds of dawn rolled over Carmen and made her hair stand on end. The necklace pressed into her hip, leaving red indents over her skin. Fishing it out, she simply tossed it aside, watching it skitter across the floor and come to a rest against her dresser.

Crawling to the window, she pulled it closed and then collapsed under it. Curling into the fetal position, Carmen fell into another fitful sleep.

She found herself standing next to a woman made of stone. A crescent moon covered her eyes like a mask, her mouth open in a howl. A silver wolf draped itself across her lap, head thrown back to mimic hers. Cracks and chipped off pieces had worn it down, but it still held a beauty to it.

The grass around it was green and lush. Thick trees grew around the statue, the song of the forest crying out. Animals, insects, bubbling streams, wind, all of it calling out to something in her. Taking a few steps forward, she looked at the wolf. Its stone eye seemed to move, looking right at her. Even though she was clothed, it made her feel naked and nervous. Stomach flipping, she took a few steps back.

“Come to me, my child.” A woman’s voice whispered in the wind.

The golden sun had become the silvery moon when Carmen opened her eyes again. Her whole body ached. A throbbing in her head and arm helped drag her away from the land of sleep. She saw the necklace tightly clutched in her grip, leaving an impression of the moon in her palm.

Every muscle protested when Carmen drug herself off the floor and took the meds. They went down hard, nearly making her throw it back up.

Filling up a tall drink of water, she guzzled it down to fill her stomach. Hunger gnawed at her, staving off sleep. Breathing hard, she took another shower and let the hot water soothe her muscles.

The strange fever and fatigue had worn off, replaced with an energy that she hadn’t felt in years. Blood sang in her veins, wanting to run. Even in the shower, she found herself shifting from one foot to the other, eager to start… Something.

Stepping out of the shower, she found herself dressing quickly. Hair still damp, she pulled it back and mapped out a potential run she could do. She just had to go outside. Get away from the walls of plaster and sheetrock.

A smell made her pause. It was buried under her smell. But she could still pick it up. Pulling out her pants from the other day, she pulled out the business card and sniffed it. A small drop of blood was on the corner. Hers? No. The scent drove her wild. She held it close and inhaled deeply, before pulling it back.

“What the hell am I doing?” Setting it back down, Carmen rubbed her face, sweat pouring down her brow. She stared at the address, the image of the wolf coming to her mind.

He stared at her, looking pitiful. Then, his claws flashed and raked across her arm. When she fell to the ground, she saw the statue.

“ Come to me, my child .” The woman’s voice whispered in the wind again. “ Join the hunt. ”

Walking outside, Carmen let the night air roll over her and went to the car, heart thrumming. Pulling out her phone, she punched the address of the wildlife reserve and then prepared to travel.

Her drive was a blur. Tunnel vision made her unaware of how fast she arrived, or even if she was driving safely. Static crackled in her ears, making her hair stand on end.

The mechanical voice telling her she’d arrived at her destination was what brought her back. She stared at the spot illuminated by her headlights. A line of trees, then a chain link fence. More foliage behind that, but it was too thick to see past.

Getting out of the car, Carmen slammed the door and began to take a few steps toward the fence. The wind shifted, blowing a scent toward her. Wrapping her fingers around the links, Carmen inhaled.

Closing her eyes, she let the smell wash over her. It caressed her very being, tugging at something within her. Dropping to her knees in front of the fence, she clenched the links tight enough for her knuckles to turn white and her injured arm to throb. Metal warped under her grip, the coppery scent of blood following.

Bringing her hands down, Carmen saw crimson pooling in her palm. A laugh escaped her and she sat with her back to the fence. Lapping at the wound, shook her head.

“What on earth am I doing?” She started to stand. Her body protested at the movement. The soreness was back with a vengeance. Closing her eyes, she pressed her bandaged hand to her face, pulling it away to see it soaked with sweat and grime.

Staggering to her feet, she ignored the tantalizing scent as she headed back to her car. When Carmen put her hand on the roof, the smell hit her like a load of bricks. Opening her eyes wide, she turned back around to look at the line of trees. The area around her was tinted with a silvery-blue hue, but it was almost as bright as day.

This had to be a dream. None of this made sense. Leaning down, she touched her forehead to the warm metal of the car.

“Just wake up.” She urged herself. “You’re having a bad reaction to the medicine.”

Slowly, she raised her head.

Time seemed to slow down. Turning back toward the fence, she felt her feet moving on their own, dragging across the asphalt.

Something glistened on the links in the silvery light. Reaching out, she brushed her knuckle to it. Once she touched the metal, it sent a jolt through her.

Then, she saw the small gap in the links. Someone had cut through it with bolt cutters. But they’d put it back to where it was almost invisible to anyone far enough away. No wonder she had been able to bend the metal so easily.

Clenching the fence, she pulled it back and crawled through, metal raking across her back. Wincing, she dropped to her stomach and drug herself through, feeling more tugs at her clothing.

Once she stood up, her arm was throbbing, the pain making her head spin. Staggering, she sniffed the air. The scent was stronger than before. Her whole body ached, but she had to follow it. Cradling her arm, she began a slow walk.

Cicadas cried, a creek flowed, and the wind continued to blow, stirring a few stray wisps of her hair out of its knot at the back of her head.

Then, she came to a break in the trees, showing a sheer drop. In the meadow, a group of wolves ran around, wrestling and snapping at one another. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw one stop, then stand up on its hind legs and sniff the air. It turned a massive head around to look right at her.

“I knew you’d come.” A voice called behind her. It was gruff, like it wasn’t used to speaking. As it rumbled through her ears, Carmen’s hair stood on end.

Slowly, Carmen turned to see a bipedal wolf looking at her, its hindleg bandaged and stiff. Its shoulder was also wrapped up.

The wolf took a few shaking steps toward her. Then, it dropped down onto all fours. Even then, it still looked her in the eye. Drool glistened on its teeth as it licked its muzzle. Then, she saw the same eyes, in what she recognized as a lupine scowl.

Her ginger wolf from the clinic.

Now she knew she was dreaming.

It took another step toward her. She backed away, stopping when she felt the give of the ground, warning her of the drop below. Heart hammering in her throat, she could only stare at the wolf as it took a few steps closer to her.

Her stomach fluttered. Fear? No. Something else she couldn’t identify. Head swimming, she tried to string thoughts together to make a plan of escape. However, her vision began to blur. Daring to blink, she took in a shaking breath.

Something tore through the grass. But she didn’t dare take her eyes off the creature approaching her. Caught between a rock and a hard place, she focused on the visible threat.

“The Goddess has blessed you. And you’ve been marked by her hounds.” Ginger grumbled, nose nearly touching her. The inhales were strong, almost like a human.

“You’ve gone into heat.” His tongue lolled out of his mouth, hot breath rolling over her skin. Something about it made the ache worse, spreading it through Carmen so fast she nearly screamed. “You’ll send the rest of the pack into rut.”

Then, a large silver wolf slammed into the ginger, swatting him with a human shaped front paw. The action was so quick, Carmen could only gape. Her knees nearly gave out, but she managed to keep herself upright. If she went over the cliff, she’d drop and probably break below. But if this was a dream…

Ginger flew back, screaming in pain. The noise shook her thoughts loose and she gasped, reaching out for him. Crimson blossomed on the bandaged haunch and shoulder. His back legs gave out as he struggled to get on all fours again.

“You bastard!” He barked at the silver wolf. “You broke my leg!” Yelping, he looked at Carmen with pleading eyes. “Help me!”

Carmen took a step forward, only to feel a hand clamp on her shoulder. Claws dug into her skin, making her stand still. Then, she was whirled around to face the silver wolf, who towered over her.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” The voice rasped. “Not without being taken into the pack first.” His nostrils flared, his pupils blowing all the way out as he stared at her. Brown eyes, glinting with the want for a hunt. His scent overpowered Carmen.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered to wake up over and over again.

The fear held fast to her, not allowing her to move a muscle in fear of both wolves tearing her to shreds.

Then, the hand on her shoulder went to her waist, picking her up. Before she could scream, it squeezed tight enough to push the air from her lungs. Finally, she opened her eyes to see that she was moving. Well, the wolf was walking, simply carrying her like a ragdoll. His massive paws had wrapped around her, although he’d taken care to not scratch her further with his claws.

Ginger flew at them with a snarl, his back leg suddenly seeming to work perfectly.

Silver swatted at him, then heaved. The wolf flew through the air, screaming as he went down into the meadow below. When he hit the ground, the crunch echoed through the night. Carmen felt sick, her stomach heaving. Covering her mouth, she squeezed her eyes shut again.

There was a grunt. Air whipped around Carmen, stirring the scents again. An impact jostled her, and she opened her eyes. They’d landed in the meadow, the other wolves approaching, much more cautious in their steps. A few sniffed, inching closer with flared nostrils, but never close enough to touch.

The smell made her mind swim. Heat flushed in her cheeks, and she shivered. All the eyes on her were like hands, caressing her very being. Each one hungrily taking her in, assessing her.

The ruined pile of fur and bone groaned.

“Your brother decided to go against the rules and try to bring another member into our ranks. Without permission. Or consent, for that matter.” Silver growled. “So now, he must put himself at the mercy of Diana.” He set Carmen down, setting his massive hand on her shoulder so she couldn’t run. His touch froze her further. Not even a breath passed her lips.

The wolves sat or laid down in the grass, staring at the pair. They knew who the one in charge was.

“What’s going on?” Carmen choked out, eyes watering. “Please. Tell me or let me wake up.” She slapped her cheeks, stopping when Silver’s hand wrapped around her entire uninjured forearm. It was a gentle, but firm grip.

“No one touches her.” Silver insisted, before forcing her to face him. His eyes seemed to stare into her very being. They looked alert, but so tired. More fluid dribbled onto her legs and shoes. But she didn’t dare break the gaze. To assert dominance with a canine, you couldn’t be the first to break eye contact.

Hopefully the same rules applied to lupines. Alpha and Omega only applied to captive and family packs, but this was all she knew to work with.

As they stared at one another, Carmen felt the fear and desire to know more about everything warring with one another. Part of her wanted to escape the dream no matter how, the other part wanted to stay and listen. Sit on her haunches like the other wolves, watching him speak.

His eyes explored hers, flicking over her form to take her appearance in. The gleam only added to his dangerous look. His pupils were slightly dilated, his muzzle twitching. His tongue tasted the air around her.

Silver broke away first. A sigh of relief escaped her, and she dropped to her knees. Silver’s grip on her arm didn’t release. Closing her eyes, she urged herself to wake up.

Then, she was being pulled back to her feet. Arms cradled her, twisted and alien enough to make her uneasy, despite the strength behind them. She tried to not shake, but her body refused to listen.

“What do we do?” One of the wolves asked. “Her scent is going to roll on the wind. If she’s changed, there might be others we don’t know about.”

“Guard the entrances. Make sure no one else gets in.” Silver rumbled, before he started to walk, each step jostling Carmen enough to nearly make her cry out.

Then, he took her away from the meadow. There was a hole on the side of the cliff. Bowing his head, Silver brought her inside. Only then did he set her down on the stone floor. Once he’d done that, he went to the mouth of the cave and sat down.

“Can you please tell me what’s going on?” Carmen begged, not daring to move from her spot. “Did… Did you kill that wolf?” She’d have to call the Wildlife reserve when she woke up to check on him.

“No. If Diana is merciful, he will be healed when the moon and sun switch.” Silver didn’t look at her. “You care about the one who did this to you? Was he your mate?”

The question made Carmen blush. “N… No. I just…” Her brain felt addled. Why was she getting flustered over a wolf? “I took care of him. He was already hurt.”

Silver snorted. “We’re sturdy. Don’t worry.” He slammed his paw on the ground. The open palm slapped hard, the noise amplified in the cave. Carmen resisted the urge to clap her hands over her ears. “As you saw, he wasn’t nearly as injured as he pretended to be.”

Still, getting flung over the side of the cliff…

Carmen shuddered. “I just… I want to go home. Or wake up.” She scratched at the side of her head. The blood on her palm smeared on her cheek.

Silver turned to look at her sideways. “You think this is a dream?”

“Talking wolves, seeing them walk upright, it’s like a werewolf movie.” Swallowing, Carmen flinched when she felt the sting of pain, more blood dripping on her clothing.

Standing upright, Silver approached her, taking her hand in his massive paws. Rolling it back and forth, he stared at it. Then, he slowly leaned down and ran a large pink tongue over the wound. The sensation sent a shiver up Carmen’s spine.

The wound slowly began to shrink, before sealing itself closed. Carmen stared at it in awe. She flexed her fingers and brushed them against the twisted digits that now clutched her hand. Silver’s fur suddenly bristled, and he dropped her hand, turning away from her again.

“You are werewolves, aren’t you?” Swallowing hard, Carmen tried to calm the roaring in her ears.

“Correct.” Silver sighed. “We don’t bring pack members in willy nilly. It was supposed to be a tight ring.” He scratched at the ground, his claws bringing up grains of stone. “And not without my permission. Every werewolf in this pack is under my protection. They abide by my rules. In exchange, they are given this area to run every cycle.”

“Why haven’t I changed?” The words were hard to force out.

“You’re refusing to.” Silver turned to face her fully. “You’ve surely felt the way your body is hurting? How you need to do something, but you’re not sure what?” His nostrils flared, his pupils nearly overtaking his iris. “The Goddess has touched you. But you’ve managed to keep control, I’m impressed.”

His hands shook as he reached for her. Claws traced her cheeks, making her hair stand on end. The scent of him was overpowering, making her mouth almost water. Something in her ached.

“You are safe now. If you give into the change, you will not harm yourself or others.” He assured her. “I will take you into the pack. Every moon, we will come here. Once you are recognized as a member, we’ll do what we can to make sure that this is as painless as possible.”

His hands on her, the rumbling of his voice, his scent, the way the air tasted around him drove Carmen crazy. Trembling, she felt herself nearly falling again. Why was she so weak in the knees?

Something in her finally let go. The world exploded in silvery blue, the scents, sounds, and feelings overpowering her. Gasping, she felt her back arch.

She suddenly jolted forward, slipping from the grip of Silver. He stared at her with wide eyes, flinching when she touched him. Burying her hands into his fur, inhaled his scent, listening to the rapidly increasing beat of his heart.

The touch seemed to awaken something in him, his rapidly growing erection brushed against her midriff, pushing the hem of her shirt up.

“N-no.” He weakly tried to push her away, nearly tripping over his feet as he tried to get away from her. “You can’t.”

A fire formed in Carmen’s belly. She felt the emptiness inside her clawing up into her womb, begging to be filled. Dropping to her knees, she panted, sweat trickling down her brow and upper lip.

“Please.” She said, her mouth dry. “Please. Help me.” Her eyes widened and she felt heat flash through her. The scent rolling off her mingled with the air. It was hard to resist the urge to tear off her clothes and start plunging fingers inside herself.

Silver’s erection grew, beads of precum dribbling from the tip as he inhaled her scent, tasting it in the air. Silvery saliva drooled out of his mouth, and he stared at her. But he didn’t dare move. His hand gripped the mouth of the cave, looking ready to rip it down rather than come near her.

“You must have your first change,” He urged her. “Please. Let the Wolf inside come out.” He flexed his free hand. “My fangs and claws would rip you to shreds.” His voice was growing more raspy, each word a chore to push past his teeth.

Carmen’s body twisted as she cried out with a need she’d never felt the intensity of before. Her throat felt raw from the primal screams escaping her. She tried to find the part of her mind and push for the change to occur. Begging the wolf to come out.

The other wolves were making their way over. Their scent made Carmen launch herself, only for Silver to clothesline her. With a grace that suggested practice, he managed to push her back into the cave. With his hand still tight around her waist, he laid Carmen on the floor.

“Diana, forgive me for what I’m about to do.” He muttered, holding her to the ground. “You can’t scream like that. You’ll make every wolf in the area come running.” His cock brushed against Carmen’s clothed groin, the sensation sending another blast of lust through her.

“Please.” Carmen panted, unable to catch her breath. “Help me.” Eyes watering, she reached for the Wolf’s arm, gripping it tightly enough she thought she might burst her stitches.

“I could rip you in half.” He shook his head. “You’re not changed. You’re not made for it.” His nostrils flared, his hands shaking and gripping her tighter.

“Help me change.” She urged him. “Please.” Why was she in so much pain if it was a dream? There was no way she’d been this horny in real life. Sure, she’d wanted sex before, but never this bad.

Sighing, he looked over his shoulder to the entrance of the cave. It was empty. But each movement and second he made her wait was agonizing.

Slowly, he took his hand off her. With considerably less grace and control, he tore off her pants and underwear. The full scent of her arousal hit him. His hand slammed the open area above her head, his cock dribbling onto her thighs. A few drops landed on her exposed groin. Crying out, she bucked her hips up, reminding him what needed to be filled.

Leaning down, he nuzzled against her neck, his nose cold. Fangs traced over her skin, making her gasp. Warmth followed as his tongue went across her neck, trailing to the collar of her shirt, leaving a large wet spot. Tensing, he ran his hand up her stomach, slipping it under the fabric of her top.

It rested there, his open palm’s warmth mingling with her own. Slowly, he slipped it off her, taking care to not tug on the bandages on her injured arm. His claws tore through the cheap fabric of her sports bra, but the loss wasn’t going to break her heart.

His eyes rested on the necklace now laying against her chest.

“Diana forgive me,” He said again, before pushing her legs apart. His fur tickled her bare skin. It was softer than she thought it would be. Lowering his head, he lapped at the wetness forming between her legs and spilling out into the floor.

The touch of his tongue made her cry out. Her legs locked around Silver’s head, forcing him to inhale her scent and arousal completely. Whether the motion or her cries finally made him let go, it seemed to awaken something in him.

Growling, he sent a rumble through her that shook her very being. Breath escaped her, and she fell back flat, drowning in the pleasure.

Grabbing Carmen’s thigh, Silver plunged his tongue in deep, rolling his head with each lick. She thought she would scream, but all that came out were quiet moans of satisfaction. Her hands tried to grab at something, to distract her from the sensation long enough to hold her rapidly approaching climax. She settled on resting her hand on his head, pushing him in further.

Her legs went slack, shaking with desire. He gave a few more licks, before pulling back and running his tongue over her clit. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure over Carmen, making her cry out and arch her back, wanting to be filled again.

Then, he pulled back, fur slick with her arousal. Breathing heavy, the Wolf stared at her entrance, his warm breath tickling her wet folds. Leaning down, he licked the ground and lapped up every drop of her that had spilled out.

He picked her up off the ground, pressing her to the wall. Carmen’s legs snaked around his waist, barely able to hold herself up. Rocking his hips, Silver, growled in her ear. The breath tickled the curve of her neck, making her shiver.

“Tell me you want it.” He rasped, the tip prodding against her. She could feel their fluids mixing together, dirtying the cave floor.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Carmen nodded.

“P-Please.” She begged.

Then, he entered her. She was so slick it slid right in. Once she’d wrapped around him, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down. Rolling his hips, he thrust up into her. Arms wrapped around Carmen’s body, he kept her from scraping against the stone of the cave. Cradling her head, he had her look at him.

“Your pupils are so wide, I can’t see your iris anymore.” He growled, each thrust sending pleasure through Carmen. “I didn’t think my cock would fit, but you’re taking it so well.” The words weren’t teasing or hurtful, he seemed just as surprised as her. “It’s like you were made for me. There’s a little bit of the wolf getting teased out.”

Carmen couldn’t deny the pleasure sweeping through her. She wriggled her hips and took him to the base, gripping him tighter. The growl that escaped him was one of pleasure. His thrusts were strong, each one filling her with white hot heat. Every moan and gasp that escaped her echoed loudly in the cave, no doubt funneling into the meadow.

“Hold me tightly.” He encouraged her. “Scratch, bite, yell, let yourself fall to your base instincts.” His thrusts became almost vicious, impaling Carmen and reaching deeper than she thought possible.

She screamed, tearing at his fur. The cries encouraged him further, and he bucked his hips hard, slamming into her. Bareback scraping against the wall, Carmen took it all in, pleasure building in her stomach and bringing her closer.

There was no way she should have been able to take his cock. It was too big. The thought of it entering would have made her scoff, but now she was drawing it into her like it had always belonged.

Then, she grew uncomfortably tight. Wincing, she dug her nails into his thick fur. Part of her was tempted to bite down on his shoulder, but the sensation would probably shock him into letting go of her.

She grew more slick, wanting to take him all the way in, thicker cock be damned. It needed to be all the way inside when he came. Rolling her hips, she tried to press herself down against him when he thrust up.

“Fuck… The knot.” Silver panted. “I’m about to-”

He winced when she wrapped her legs tighter around him. “Wait, I’m going to-” His eyes were clouded with lust, his tongue lapping her neck. Words became grunts and growls

Carmen’s body tensed. Throwing her head back, she nearly slammed it against the wall of the cave as the orgasm ripped through her. She clenched down onto the cock inside her.

The pressure made Silver howl, and he erupted. Thick ropes of fluid filled Carmen, then dripped onto the floor. Two more aftershocks followed, although they paled in comparison to the first, merely spilling more onto the stone and Silver’s feet.

Panting, Silver brought her down, collapsing onto the cave floor. His rapidly shrinking and softening cock was still slick with Carmen’s wetness.

Carmen crawled over to him, falling onto his chest. His rapidly beating heart gradually slowed, his shallow breaths becoming deeper. Within moments, he was snoring.

Closing her eyes, Carmen laid against his sleeping form. Even though he was a beast, it felt safe. His clawed hand rested against her thigh, the other encircling her chest and pulling her to him.

***

Slants of light fell on Carmen. Groaning, she tried to move. Soreness filled her body, her joints and muscles straining against the movement as she tried to rouse herself. The floor underneath her was cold and hard. Hadn’t she closed the window last night?

Looking down, she saw her naked body. Bruises traced up and down her hips and thighs. Stone was beneath her, scents of sex and animal mixing with her nose.

Warm hands clutched her close. A half hard cock rubbed against her leg.

“Mmm…” The person holding her groaned, pulling her back down to the ground. Stubble scraped against her bare shoulder, followed by a kiss. Squirming, she resisted the urge to twist away.

“Morning.” The grogginess was clear in the voice.

Carmen felt a familiar soreness between her legs. Panic seized her when she realized what had happened wasn’t a dream.

Slowly, she turned to look down at her partner.

And into the half asleep face of Doctor Remington.

#monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster fucker #monsterfucker #monster fuckery #werewolf #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf lover #werewolf smut #terato #terat0philliac #teratophillia

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megu-meow · 2 months

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when a fire starts to burn - sukuna

sukuna x fem. reader (reader is Nanami's sister)

Part 2 of my Hockey Player Sukuna Series - Part 1

Lmk if you would like me to create a taglist! :D

Sukuna finds himself looking forward to Sunday. He suddenly considers texting you non-stop not enough. He wants to see you in person. He wants to see with his own eyes how you react to his flirtatious comments, he often wonders if they make you blush. He is convinced that they do, considering that sometimes you react with unintelligible keyboard slams. He loves it, but seeing it in person would be hundred times better.

He considers himself enchanted by you. He finds it undoubtedly easy to talk to you, he loves telling you about his day and he certainly enjoys hearing about yours. He loves how passionate you are about your job, how excited you get about office gossip, and how you never hesitate to text him whenever the smallest thing happens to you throughout the day. The hardest part is hiding the fact that he is talking to you constantly from his Captain, your brother.

"Sweetheart, when is Bambi coming?" he hears Nanami's wife, Sophia question from the kitchen while Sukuna is sitting on the couch in the living room, and his ears perk up once he hears that adorable nickname of yours being mentioned.

"She's not coming here. We're meeting at the cafe." Nanami responds as he leaves their bedroom.

"Why is that? I haven't seen her in a while, I wanted to give her the souvenir I got her from Thailand."

"She's tired and irritated, she said she wants to hear about your travels when she's in a better mood."

Sukuna's grin widens. He knows why you're tired. He knows why you're irritated. The two of you stayed up texting until 5 in the morning and your conversation ended with him calling your cat stupid, which offended you deeply. The thing is, Sukuna is severely allergic to cats so he couldn't comprehend the cuteness of your cat even after receiving ten pictures of the sleeping feline from you. And you couldn't accept him calling your child stupid either. Nonetheless, he was displeased that you were not seeing him today in person. What's worse is that they're leaving tomorrow for a road trip which is scheduled to last at least a week, if not more. He doesn't really understand why he has these feelings after two weeks of knowing you, he usually wouldn't care about something so insignificant, but he figures that you were an enigma enough to entertain these thoughts running around in his mind about you. Once Nanami leaves the house, Sukuna retreats to his momentary room and starts packing his bag for the upcoming road trip. He has gained a lot of fans after the amazing debut he had with the team and now there's a lot of pressure on him to live up to the expectations. If everything goes right, he should get a raise in a couple of months, after the regular season is over and he will be able to get his own place after that. Despite enjoying how his current situation gives him more opportunities to see you in person, Sukuna hates leeching on others, so he cannot wait to get himself out of your brother's apartment.

While you're out with your brother, you cannot stop thinking about the pink-haired player currently living with Nanami. You really wanted to see him today, but you didn't want to cause suspicions with Kento and Sophia. Those two were incredibly good at figuring out when you have a crush on someone. This is not the case here with Sukuna - or at least you try to convince yourself about that. Regardless, you're being cautious.

However, your plan is thrown out the window by Sukuna himself, as he walks into the cafe and sits down at your table. Both Nanami and you glare at him in disbelief. He ignores your confused expressions as the waiter approaches and he orders the same thing he did two weeks ago.

"What are you doing here, Sukuna?" Kento questions, clear irritation in his tone.

"I told you this before, I'm extremely superstitious. The last time we had a game on Sunday and I joined you guys for brunch, I scored five goals, may I remind you. So I decided, to include this in my game-day routine." he explains, while gesturing to the situation at hand. His eyes jump in between you and Nanami as he tries to figure out how you feel about his bluntness. "And you, Captain, cannot say anything against this, because tonight, I'm gonna win the game for us."

Nanami is speechless, while the pink-haired guy grins, his enjoyment evident. He is having too much fun with the current situation, in your opinion. Kento looks at you expectantly, he doesn't really have a say in this matter. You were the one to decide that Sunday Brunch was just for the two of you.

You started chewing the inside of your mouth nervously. Sukuna trapped you into a corner: hockey players - or professional athletes in general - were peculiar about their routines. You heard of the most unhinged pre-game routines over the years, you were aware of how much goes into the mental preparation for games. You couldn't possibly sabotage Sukuna's career with the Wizards just because you want to be selfish about the time you spend with your brother. However, this is a really bad idea. You know why the pink-haired idiot is doing this: he wants to spend time with you. But this is a dangerous game, one that your brother would surely not approve of. Sukuna is secretive. He's arrogant and full of himself. He challenges you and is constantly on a mission to irritate you. That's why you don't understand why the next words leave your mouth.

"Sure, everything for the team right?"

Sukuna grins widely, as he crosses his muscular, tatted arms in front of his chest and leans back in his chair. His dark eyes are glimmering with joy as he looks at you, winking sneakily.

"Okay, Bambi. But..." he sighs deeply "If your performance falters, Sukuna, this ends right away."

"Understood!" he agrees, saluting your brother jokingly.

That Sunday, Sukuna scores a hat trick and gets an assist. It seems like he is determined not to screw up this unique opportunity to spend meaningful time with you every fricking Sunday. After the game, Akane, Senna, and Sophia convince you to go out with them and the team as they're celebrating the goaltender's birthday. You agree, despite knowing that you are gonna regret this decision in the morning. You often join the team for these kinds of occasions considering you have a good relationship with every one of them. You're having a good time, chasing around coach Yaga's kid, who has an unmistakable bump on his forehead. He probably ran into a table or something earlier, but it doesn't stop him from running around like a maniac. Once you catch him and pick him up, you are determined to deliver him back to his mother, who is to your frustration, talking to Sukuna.

"How are your brothers? Aren't they missing you now that they're far away from you?" you don't want to listen to their conversation, but you can't really help it as you hear the question being asked.

"They're gonna be alright. It's Yuji's draft year so he was about to move away soon anyway. And Choso is Choso, he's gonna go wherever Yuji goes."

Sukuna spots you and grins, he cannot help but think that you look incredible, even with the child clinging to your side.

"Special delivery!" you exclaim as you give the child back to his mother. The toddler's energy has faltered significantly and his mother looks at you gratefully for tiring him out. She says goodbye to you, leaving you alone with Sukuna.

"You have brothers?" you ask curiously.

"It's not nice to listen to someone's conversation, you know, sweet pea?!"

"I - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

"Don't worry your pretty little head, I don't really care honestly." he teases "Yeah, I do have brothers. Two, to be exact."

"Are you close?"

"Yeah. They're brats tho."

"Figured."

"You wound me, y/n. I'll let you know, I am the best brother ever."

"I doubt that."

"Well, I would be the best boyfriend for sure, there would be not doubt about that one." he adds, winking at you, mischief evident in his features. You can't help the blush appearing on your face and Sukuna relishes the feeling of pride that takes over him. He was right, it is 100 times better now that he can see your reactions.

"You're such a flirt, Sukuna."

"Only for you, y/n. I hope you know that."

"Yeah? Prove it."

"Well, how about you let me take you out on a date once I'm back from our road trip?" you knew he was a straightforward guy, but he never expected him to be this blunt. His eyes scan your face rapidly for any kind of reaction, you get that feeling again, that he can read your thoughts just by looking at you. You misjudged him. You thought this guy was a master of hiding his feelings, but this time around, his eyes are sparkling with hope. He doesn't seem worried or scared of rejection, which is slightly irritating, but what did you expect from a guy with a big ego like his?! "I don't have all day, y/n!" he frowns, and despite his words seeming harsh, they come out as more nervous than demanding. You have him under a spell that he cannot understand just yet, he feels the adrenaline rushing through his veins as he impatiently waits for your answer. Suddenly, you smile brightly and Sukuna's worries are forgotten just like that.

"Okay. I'll let you take me out on a date."

Sukuna is beaming with happiness, but unfortunately, it doesn't last too long. On their way to Kyoto, Kento sits beside him on the bus.

"What do you want from my sister?" he asks, his demeanor completely different from the usual.

"What?"

"You heard me! First, you get yourself invited to brunch. Then, you're openly flirting with her at Panda's party. So, tell me what you want from my sister!"

Sukuna swallows hard, his Adam's apple jumping visibly. He has to play his cards right, otherwise he will have to forget about your date. He is perceptive enough to know, that you would never go out with him if your brother didn't approve of it. He knew from day one that he had to get Kento's blessing. He considered doing the cliche things that happen in movies and books, hiding it from him and letting the whole thing explode in his face, but Sukuna has a stronger sense of justice and fairness than to betray the person who took him in like that.

"I asked her out on a date. I don't think I have to tell you, but your sister is gorgeous, intelligent, and absolutely amazing. I plan to treat her with respect, I don't want to hurt her feelings. I will not tell anyone on the team about this, you know that I do not participate in locker-room talk and I don't plan on changing that. I would like to take her out to a nice restaurant and have a great conversation with her. Those are my intentions for now."

"For now?"

"Well, I don't want to get ahead of myself. I won't say that I would like that date to be followed by a second one, because there's no guarantee that's something she would enjoy. I do believe she is special, but whatever this leads to, she will be the one to set the pace. I would never rush any woman into anything, especially not someone like y/n."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Well, I knew since December that your sister is the kind of person you meet once in a lifetime, guess I had a hunch. And my hunch was right. She deserves the world. And if she gives me a chance, that's exactly what I would like to give."

"What do you mean you knew since December? You barely moved here four weeks ago and it's April. You guys met two weeks ago."

"I spotted her at one of our games. I guessed she traveled with you guys for the Family Game."

"She did. Are you implying you had eyes for her for five months just to get my approval? Or is any of this true?" Kento questions with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm fucking offended that you would think of me so lowly that I would come up with an elaborate lie like this just to get into your sister's pants. Believe me, if that was the case, I wouldn't care a single bit about your approval." Sukuna explains.

Kento sighs, deeply. He lived with Sukuna for four weeks. The guy is insanely chill, despite his odd looks. He literally goes to practice, works out, and plays video games. He never hears him talking about anyone, especially not women, with disrespect. Hell, he never mentioned any woman before. He's been brutally honest with everyone and he's been nothing but gallant. However, Nanami knows what hockey players are like. He also heard rumors about the pink-haired prodigy from his old teammates. Thus his hesitation.

"Give me a few days. By the time we get back home, I will have your answer."

Sukuna nods understandingly. This is going to be the longest road trip of his entire life.

Part 3

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #sukuna #sukuna imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagines #Ren Writes - Sukuna ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

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tarjapearce · 10 months

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Bouncy

@tinybagz requested:

Not sure if your still doing Miguel O’Hara requests BUT IF YOU ARE- the spider gang (Miguel, Reader, Hobie, Miles, Gwen, Pavitr ) in one car driving to the crime because they need to not have attention drawn to them and since there isn’t enough room in the car reader Sits on Miguel’s lap, Hobie driving over tons of pot holes and due to the car bumping so much it results to the reader bouncing a lot in Miguel’s lap 😜

From all the dimensions you had to set up, was one where drones, heavily armored drones seemed to be a normal sort of thing. All of them created by The Green Goblin. In this universe, he had turned the worst and to y'all dismay and dread, the anomaly, A mechanized Vulture had snuck in and now was taking a hold of the drones.

"We need to move, now."

"How on earth we are supposed to fit in this?!"

"Remind me again why you are here?"

Miguel sighed, exasperated, already pinching his nose, feeling the headache intensify.

"It's the least attention drawing thing I could find. Ya in or not?" Hobie grumbled as he pursed his lips.

"We're exposing ourselves too much in here, the drones could appear at any moment." Gwen spoke and Miles shrugged.

A mess.

"Alright! Damn. Let's just calm down." your voice strong, and everyone listened.

"We gotta catch Vulture. This dimension have both land and floating cars, Vulture doesn't look at old tech. So we are safe here. Pav, You go on the window."

"What no, I want the window" Gwen mumbled and got inside first on the backseat, Miles followed.

Teenagers.

Your mind mumbled.

"The tension is rising! Can't be a third wheel, so Imma go on the front with Hobie."

Pavitr sing sung as he slammed the car's door shut and fastened his seat belt, leaving you with a new dilemma.

"Fuck." You sighed as Hobie fastened his seat belt and honked.

"Si si, ya te escuché." (Yeah, yeah, heard you already)

Miguel got in first, making Miles to recoil a bit closer to Gwen.

"¿Qué esperas? Muévete!" (Whatcha waiting for? Move it!)

Car was so tiny it barely held his frame, a large hand pulling you in. You were sat in his lap.

Fuck. The heat irradiating from his body was the first thing you could feel, along his muscular shaped body. You felt like a rag doll on a shelf. As Hobie sped up, you could help but collide on Miguel's chest.

"Do you even know to ride this thing?!" Miguel yelled as Hobie went through a dent. It happened in slow time, as the wheel tried to connect with the floor, you were hoisted up by gravity, and for a second you felt Miguel's groin making contact with yours, His frame almost enveloping you completely.

He had taken the first impact for you. And when gravity lulled everyone down, you couldn't help but gasp as your rear sat completely ontop of him.

"Hobie watch the other cars!"

If you were trying to be subtle, you were failing miserably as Hobie was driving counterclockwise through the cars, earning an array of aggressive honks. You lurched left, right, bounced way more than you all thought.

You didn't know if to feel nauseous or warm from all the friction the dents had caused between you and Miguel. One of his hands had gone around your waist to hold you still.

"Don't." He hissed at your ear, despite the noise around you, you could hear him perfectly. There was a certain breathlessness into it. Almost, annoyed and husky-like.

Another bounce, your cheeks grew warmer.

"TRUCK AHEAD!" Pavitr yelled and Hobie swished the car to the right. Your whole rear did too ontop of Miguel. His grip tightening, and you jumped when his talons would sink into your flesh. He was grounding himself to avoid grunting too loud.

Miles and Gwen weren't uncomfortable with the forced proximity Hobie had gotten you all in. Pavitr was rambling like a little kid, Hobie too focused on the road, avoiding upcoming cars to actually care about what you and Miguel seemed to be doing.

The trip would end in the outskirts of a warehouse, You were the first one in getting down.

"Are we using the car to get back?

" Miles hands stopped working upon the news and just resigned into a softer expression on his face.

"Pav, I think its time for me to-"

"No. You're staying in the back."

His words finals, and your lips went shut and ears grew pink.

#miguel o'hara #t writes✨#miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv miguel #astv fanfic #spiderman 2099 x you #currently working in the requests ❤️

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tired-biscuit · 1 year

Note

stepdad!bakugo and his breeding kink hehe

cisjxjsjjx oh my god, it's all under the cut!! <3

cw: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, breeding, daddy kink. 18+ mdni / fem!reader

ever since meeting you - the young, pretty daughter of his new, albeit constantly busy wife - katsuki tries to make an impression by spoiling you rotten in all the wrong ways.

surprisingly, a huge chunk of it is with money.

at least at the start, that is.

having a salary so high he has no fucking clue on what to keep spending it on - katsuki had never really become a big fan of wasting his earnings on himself, after all; not even after he's entered his 40s - he consequently decides to buy you and your mother anything you want instead.

and really, he actually doesn't mean anything by it at the beginning. because, yes, katsuki might be a brute - a very brash one, at that - but he's also smart. clever enough to know that he should start building a relationship with his new stepdaughter as soon as possible, he understands that you're going to be seeing each other a lot from now on.

with him becoming your new stepdad, and with summer being just around the corner - the season that makes you come home from school to share a household you're not used to for a couple of months - and with a person you're not used to either - it's practically unavoidable.

all of that could bring tension, he knows that as well. so, trying to avoid the drama said tension could cause - the drama he doesn't want, mind you - katsuki shuts down your might-be tantrums with cash before they even get so much as a chance to erupt.

it starts off innocent enough. he buys you brand new textbooks and pays for your entire college tuition for the upcoming year. when you find out, he pretends to be nonchalant about it; rolling his crimson eyes and grunting that gruff, "it's whatever" as if his heart doesn't surprisingly jump the moment you throw your arms around his neck and press a fat kiss to his cheek as a thank you.

he's shocked at that. not because you're much more accepting about the entire stepdad ordeal than he's expected you to be, loving him already - surely because of his money, he suspects - but because the contact felt... good.

what's funny is that he doesn't like it when people touch him so unexpectedly like you'd done just now. he hates it, actually; outright despises it. and yet here he is... preening like a sucker.

for his stepdaughter.

so, keeping that good feeling in mind: he proceeds to spoil you even more as an attempt to make it linger. he tells himself it's all meant to keep you happy and 'bearable', but as the weeks go on, and his new wife - your mother - continues to remain absent because of her long business trips and late-night work hours; he starts buying you cute outfits, too.

outfits that he sees you scrolling through online on the new phone he got you at some point as well - all these short skirts and pretty summer dresses, oh my, what's not to love? and he sure does love them, so much that he even smirks when you jump around in glee and give him a little fashion show to show off how the new clothes fit you; the hearts in your eyes prominent whilst you twirl in front of him in the middle of his living room.

and then, it's not just about spending money anymore. he starts spending more time with you instead. by taking it easy at his job, using up his vacation days for the first time in years.

pretending it's just to get to know you better so there's no future bumps in the road that represents his marriage, he makes you breakfast, cooks you dinner. eats both with you. watches movies with you, if you tell him you want to have dinner in front of the TV. sometimes, if he's off work the next day, he even gets persuaded into sharing a bottle of wine with you.

just to take the edge off.

and then you start talking; more and more. in person, over text. your phone number soon becomes his favoured one; even more favoured over the one that belongs to his goddamn wife. he starts thinking about you a lot. obsessing over you a lot. fantasizing about you a lot. even late at night, when he should be asleep.

and goddammit, you crawl under his skin so quickly; find a way to creep into his dreams. the kind that end up not being proper at all, and that make his gaze linger on you in the morning. that make him tuck a curl of your hair behind your ear afterwards, and pat your cheek. that make him smile that crooked grin at you that you see so rarely.

and just like that: it's not all that innocent anymore.

because by the end of the month ever since you've come home from college; he's got you underneath him. just you and your big stepdaddy that likes to spoil you - like it's been for weeks on end.

just you and him: entangled in a mess of limbs right on the couch you make him watch shitty movies on when you want to eat dinner in front of the TV. just you and him: with your legs wide open and stretchy because of the wine you make him drink with you on nights when he doesn't have work in the morning. just you and him: completely naked; his big, scarred hands free to roam your skin that's been hiding underneath the dress he's bought you and that he's long since torn off of your body.

just you and him: fucking like you shouldn't.

raw.

he screws you deep and rough, the wine in his system making his face beet red during it. stretches and bullies your young pussy with his heavy cock; no protection present to keep him from feeling the full warmth of your velvety walls. until you're left squealing a series of broken, gasping pleas as you writhe on top of the couch, the occasional "daddy!" finding its way in-between all of the slutty moans that turn him outright delirious the moment he hears them leave your equally as slutty mouth.

so delirious, in fact, that he doesn't think straight, doesn't think of the consequences as he fills that young pussy right up after the second time it clenches around his dick and he feels your nails drag down his broad back - probably chipping the expensive manicure he's paid for, too. as he looks down and watches it leak his cum out when he pulls his hips back from your own slightly, making him groan something feral; head of ash blonde that's turning faintly grey at the temples tilting like an animal at the sight of the thick milky ropes to connect you both, bridging the narrow gap between your hot bodies.

it all makes him push back into you, actually - as messed up as it is. push as much of his seed right back into your tiny hole that keeps fluttering around his girth and sucking him in; persuading him to breed you some more, right after he collects himself and gets fully hard again, of course.

and the fucked up part is that he'll probably do just that. it's just too good, after all; you're just too good, too tight to resist. so eager and sugary; like a candy he never liked, but simply adores licking on now. his sweet little girl.

"call me that again, sweetheart," he rasps after a moment of thought, his voice breathless, forehead covered in caramel-scented sweat. his thrusts are slow and sloppy, but you can feel him starting to throb again. he's deep inside your belly - it hurts so good.

"call me daddy again, and i'll make sure to fuck your dumb little brains out."

#bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #katsuki bakugou #cw stepcest #cw infidelity #biscuit drabbles

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pennylanefics · 27 days

Text

Skate Day Gone Wrong - Matthew Tkachuk

a/n: this was a cute little idea i had a while ago when i first started getting hockey content on tiktok :) it took me longer than i expected with everything going on, but i think it turned out cute!

warnings: mentions of hospitals, beginning of a panic attack (briefly mentioned, not too descriptive)

summary: matt begs you to go skating with him but it takes a turn for the worst when you end up falling down on the ice

word count: ~4.6k

“Come on, it’ll be so much fun!” Matthew begs you, grabbing your hands and squeezing them gently. A sigh passes your lips and your eyes fall to your entwined hands, a small grin stretching on your face as you realize he’s been rubbing his thumb back and forth against the back of your hand.

“You know I’m not as graceful, baby. It’ll be a disaster.” He pulls the puppy-dog eyes as soon as you finish your sentence. But it wasn’t going to get by you this time.

Matt was trying to get you to go skating with him at the local ice rink. He wanted, and he deserved, a break from hockey, but he couldn’t stay away from the ice and exercise in some capacity. But since the start of your relationship, you were very clear with him that you were like a newborn deer in ice skates.

“It’ll be a nice little date! I’ll hold onto you the entire time, you never have to let go of my hand, I won’t let you fall, I promise. You have my word,” he holds out his pinky to seal his words. You sigh once more, finally looking up into bright blue eyes, filled with hope and excitement. That alone was enough for you to change your mind.

“Okay,” you finally agree, and within a second, Matt celebrates by tackling you in a hug, your laughter mixing together to fill the otherwise silent bedroom of his.

“Yay!! This is going to be so much fun, I have been wanting to get you on the ice with me for the longest time,” he admits, pressing kisses all over your face, eliciting more giggles from you.

“I know you have, but I went once when I was younger and couldn’t find my balance, I ended up falling pretty hard. My cousins made fun of me for it and everything, so it’s something I avoided.” Matt coos softly and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear so tenderly.

“Well, I won’t do that, and like I said, I won’t even let you fall. Not gonna happen on my watch, darling.” He kisses you a couple times, his hand remaining on your cheek, sending warmth through your body.

“I fucking hope. Otherwise you’ll be taking care of me the entire time.” He chuckles quietly and crawls into bed with you, wraping his arms around you instantly, and you instinctively curl into his soft, warm chest.

“Not sure how I’ll be able to with the upcoming road trip we have,” he replies.

“Then you better keep that promise of yours, Chucky.”

The following day, Matthew was up bright and early, preparing breakfast for the both of you and getting everything he needed ready to head to the rink. He planned on just taking his skates and wearing a simple pair of jeans and a black sweatshirt, no gear or anything was needed, really; he wasn’t needing to do any drills or practice anything anyways.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he greets you with a kiss on your forehead and then your cheek. Groaning, you shield your eyes from the blinding sun slicing through the curtains. Matt always loved this time of day, being a morning person, he was able to admire your beauty as you slept, like an angel in his eyes, glowing in the golden, natural light.

“Too early,” you grumble, causing him to laugh softly. To add to the dramatics, you grab the comforter and pull it up over your head, not wanting to leave the comfort and warmth of his bed just yet. One of your favorite places was being in his bed, enveloped in the smell of him, from both his cologne and his body wash.

“Hey, you agreed to this, we go early and then grab some lunch at your favorite restaurant,” he reminds you, removing the cover from your head. You squint your eyes and stare up at him, finding a sly grin on his face. “Come on, I made your favorite.”

After five more minutes of Matthew playing with your hair and trying to coax you out of bed, you finally get up and head downstairs, where he had everything plated and prepared for you. He made chocolate chip pancakes with turkey bacon, fresh fruit, and scrambled eggs with cheese. You were so glad that Matt loved to cook, otherwise you’d just be having a simple granola bar instead of a nice, cooked meal.

“Alright, I have everything packed and ready to go, so if you want to go get dressed while I put everything away and wash the dishes,” Matt says, taking your empty plate and setting it in the sink with his.

Once you were dressed in a sweater and jeans, all your usual jewelry on, and perfume sprayed a few times, you join your boyfriend in the living room, where he sat scrolling through his phone. Hearing your footsteps, his head pops up and a huge smile spreads across his lips as he jumps to stand.

“Ready?” His hand reaches for yours and you follow him out to his car. While you were getting dressed, he took time to put his duffle bag in the backseat, so you could just get up and go when you were done.

The drive consisted of soft music from your shared playlist, and Matt’s hand in yours, gently stroking the back of it like he did this morning, and like he always does when you two hold hands. It was a rather gloomy February day in Florida, and despite others hating it, you loved it; cloudy weather was so comforting, when it didn’t mean tornadoes and severe weather.

Thankfully, it wasn’t too crowded at the rink, considering it was a weekday at ten in the morning, it was the perfect slot to spend time with Matt and also not make a fool of yourself completely if you were to have an accident.

Once your skates were rented, Matt helped you lace them up, talking you through it all since he could tell your nerves were starting to kick in.

“They have to be laced pretty tight, and figure skating ones are different from mine, but they kinda work the same. So…” his voice tapers off as he finishes tying them, “that should be good. Do they feel alright? Not too tight to the point where you can’t feel your shin?”

His hands take ahold of yours as he helps you stand and walk along the padded area to get a feel for them. He already had such a wide smile on his face because he was so happy that you were finally going to share the space he loved being at the most, aside from being with you, of course.

“Yeah, I think they’re good,” you let him know, heading back over to the bench you were sat on. He finishes tying his own skates, something he has mastered to do quickly at this point in his life, and before you know it, he is walking you over to the entrance to the ice.

Immediately, you freeze, but Matt steps onto the ice like it’s no issue.

“Remember what I promised you, baby?” He raises his eyebrows in concern. Fear was very evident in your eyes, and as much as he wanted you to skate at least one time around with him, he didn’t want to overstep any boundaries or push you too far. “Hey…it’s gonna be okay. Why don’t you sit down for a little while more?”

He guides you to a nearby bench and stands behind you, giving your shoulders a small, comforting massage. Leaning down, he kisses your cheek swiftly and then comes around to sit beside you.

“We can sit here for as long as you want until you are ready, if you are,” he reassures you. “We don’t even have to do this today. You coming with me has been enough.”

His sweet sounding voice calms your anxiety almost instantly, something you noticed over the months as your relationship progressed. He always knew the right thing to say, as well as the tone to use in moments where you needed it most.

After a few more minutes of sitting there staring at the ice, you inhale and exhale deeply, turning your head to Matt, who raises his eyebrows in curiosity, his bright eyes filled with concern and worry.

“I’m ready,” you grin, trying to convince him that you’ll be okay. “I just have to do it scared.”

He sighs and shakes his head, reaching for your hands to squeeze them comfortingly.

“Honey, don’t say that. We really don’t have to do this, I can see how scared it’s making you.”

“No, let’s go. I really am ready.” He pauses for a moment just to make sure you are serious, and when you try to stand, he follows you and brings you back over to the entrance of the rink.

He steps onto the ice and holds his hands out for you, his own heart racing with anxiety. He was a pro, but he didn’t know if he’d be the best at assisting, even though he made numerous promises.

“It’ll be okay, honey. Just grab my hand and I’ll keep you balanced.”

With a small step onto the ledge, you step with your other foot onto the ice, your heart pounding in your chest and your body cold from fear.

“It’s alright, darling. That’s it. Now, you want to kick off with one foot and lead with the other. Can you try that?”

Taking his advice, you move as if you’re trying to walk like normal, but obviously that doesn’t work out too well. But he was calm and patient with you.

“No, not quite. Here, hold onto the wall for a moment and I’ll show you.”

Clutching onto the wall like your life depended on it, he takes a moment to skate in front of you very effortlessly, not at all surprising considering skating is like second nature to him.

He comes back around and smiles widely, stopping just a few feet in front of you. You stare at him blankly, as if to say “are you fucking serious?”

“Come on, try it,” he pushes, reaching back out for your hands to coax you from the wall. Bracing yourself, you gently nudge yourself from the wall and follow him, attempting to copy his movements.

“There you go! You so got this,” he beams with pride.

Still, you stumble here and there but his strong grip keeps you standing. Before you know it, you realize that you made an entire lap around the rink. Just to be safe, Matt steps off the ice and wrap you up in a celebratory hug

“You did it! I’m so proud of you, baby!” He plants soft kisses all over your face, eliciting a giggle from you.

“Yeah, yeah. That’s because you were basically pulling me.”

“It was all you, believe me. I was there for guidance only. Wanna go around again?” This time, you nod eagerly and put one foot back on the ice, allowing him to get his footing first before you place your other down.

Just like before, although you were starting to get the hang of it, you stride along as gracefully as you can, following behind your lover, who easily skates backwards, keeping his eyes on you the entire time.

“And you said you were like a newborn deer. You are far from it,” he jokes, speeding up just a little bit. Laughing, you squeeze his hands to silently let him know to slow down some, which he understands and pauses for a moment, slowing you to crash into his chest.

He wraps his arms tightly around you to keep you upright, pressing a single, sweet kiss to your lips, keeping his forehead on yours after.

“I love you,” he whispers, his eyes filled with love and adoration. “And I’m very glad you decided to do this today. I’ve had so much fun and it’s been so nice being able to do this together.”

“I’ve had a lot of fun as well. It’s not as bad as I remember it.”

“Because you’re here with me,” he winks slyly, giggling when you hit him in the shoulder playfully

“You might be right, baby.”

There’s a pause as you both just stand there, holding each other and enjoying the other’s presence. A few people populated the ice, but they stayed near the middle, chatting and taking their time practicing some figure skating tricks. You and Matt were pretty much alone, it felt like in this moment.

“Wanna try skating on your own, hm?” He asks in a hushed voice. “I’ll still be right there with you, just not holding you.”

Thinking over it for a moment, he waits for your answer, and is very surprised when you nod in agreement, his eyes widening in shock and curiosity.

“Wait really??” He had to double check to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

Soon, you were standing in front of him, your legs even with your shoulders, hands still in Matt’s for now.

“Okay, remember, push off and keep your skates close to the ice. Let me know when to let go and I will.”

Taking a deep breath, you look down at the ice beneath your feet and focus hard. He starts staking backwards, building up some speed and momentum for you, whenever you were ready.

“Okay, I think I’m good,” you tell him, slowly releasing the tight grip you have on his hands.

“Nice job, baby! Move that left foot a little smoother!” You try to do as he says, but the farther he gets from you, the more worried you grow. He was still within reach, but only if he happened to slow down.

Suddenly, you feel your balance start to wobble, and your knees shake ever so slightly. You could feel yourself losing your balance as your momentum eases.

“Matt,” you call out, your voice shaking just like your legs.

“You’re doing good, don’t think about it too hard.” He was no help, seeming so far away, too far for your comfort.

But it was too late.

Your foot catches beneath you and slips, and within seconds, you were falling to the ground. Matt’s voice filled your ringing ears, but you couldn’t make out a word he said. All you felt was pain.

“Hey, hey! Look at me,” he cradles your cheek, moving you as gently as ever to sit up from where you fell on your arm.

Wincing, you attempt to scoot a little, but with your right hand cradling your arm against your chest, that proved to be difficult.

“I can’t move my arm,” you tell him, tears beginning to spill over your eyes and down your cheeks. Matt grew more and more concerned as time went by, not knowing how serious of a situation this was just yet.

“Did you land on it? Where does it hurt the most?” Bringing your wrist in front of you, you show him and lightly touch the area, but even that’s too much of a sensation.

“No, no, it hurts so bad,” you cry into his chest. His eyes were wide with fear and pain of his own, knowing that the person he loves the most is hurt, and because of him? That makes it so much worse.

While you continue to cry into his shoulder, Matt waves over the person watching over the rink, making sure that if someone did get hurt they’d be assisted to as soon as possible. And not even a few seconds after Matt signals this, a medic is rushing over, ready to help in any way he can.

“Come on, we’re gonna stand up, alright?” Matt whispers in your ear, trying to remain as calm as he can. He holds your right arm tightly, the medic helping by holding your skates to secure your balance.

It took a bit, but they finally get you standing up, but Matt being Matt, decided to carry you off the ice, even though it was a short length; he wasn’t taking any more risks.

He sits you down on the closest bench and the medic comes over to assess your injury. Matt held your right hand the entire time as a way to comfort you, kissing the back of it every now and then.

“Take deep breaths, baby girl. That’s it,” he whispers, taking some of his own to help ground you and soothe your anxiety.

“You should head to the hospital. It appears to be broken, but I can’t confirm that without an x-ray. You can’t move it, it’s tender to the touch, something is definitely wrong.”

Your heart sinks to your stomach and your eyes drift to Matt. He nods in agreement, lips tightly pressed together, seemingly attempting to keep himself from crying. He thanks the medic, who gathers his things before heading off.

“Let’s go,” he mumbles, beginning to take your skates off for you, and then following with removing his own. He doesn’t say much the entire time, mainly because he doesn’t know what to say. This was his fault, you got hurt on his watch, and he was beating himself up over it silently, but you had an idea of what was going through his mind.

Matt helps you to the car but before he gets into the driver’s seat after shutting your door, he crouches down and takes a few deep breaths, feeling his anxiety rising and the start of an attack; thankfully, it goes away and a minute later, he hops in the driver’s seat and drives off in the direction of the nearest hospital.

A few hours spent there, in the very quiet emergency room that smelled so strongly of cleaning products, it was confirmed that you broke a bone on the outer part of your wrist, as well as a small bone in your thumb joint.

Four hours later, the two of you are walking into Matthew’s home, a light blue cast on your wrist, exhausted and desperately wanting pain medication. Matt drops his duffle bag with his skates on the ground, no intention of putting it away anytime soon.

Not many words are spoken between the two of you, and Matt heads to the bathroom to get you some ibuprofen and water. He returns and finds you curled up on the couch, scrolling through to try and find a movie or show to watch.

He kisses your forehead and also gets an ice pack for you from the freezer, and once he situates it on your cast, he heads upstairs to his bathroom, taking his time to shower and get dressed in comfy clothes. Realizing you had yet to eat anything but a small bag of chips, he quickly orders your favorite takeout from his phone to be delivered within the next twenty minutes.

Matt felt awful. He didn’t want to go downstairs and face you, this was his fault. He wasn’t able to keep you safe and unharmed, and he was terrified of what you were going to say to him now that you are in the comfort of his home.

But, he knew he had to face the issue and go down there to hold you in his arms, to care for you now that you’ve gotten hurt.

He takes a torn, old shirt of his and a pair of sweats before heading back downstairs. There, he finds you half asleep, watching an episode of Catfish, though he could tell you were barely paying attention.

“How are you feeling?” He finally speaks, coming to sit next to you. Your head lifts up and you smile at him.

“The medicine kicked in a little bit ago so it’s not terrible. I’m just tired.” A sigh passes his lips and he so desperately wants to reach for your hand, but he doesn’t.

“I know, baby. We’re gonna take the rest of the night slow. I ordered some food so you’ll be able to eat. I can help you shower if you want to, all we have to do is wrap a plastic bag around your hand. I’ll take care of everything.”

His voice held so much hurt and regret. Sighing yourself, you grab his hand with your right hand and squeeze it softly, letting him know you are fine.

“Matt, it’ll be okay. I know you’re beating yourself up over this, but I need you to understand that it’s not your fault.”

“It is. I forced you onto the ice when you didn’t want to go.”

“I distinctly remember agreeing to go because I wanted to do that with you, Matthew. I wanted to skate with you, I wanted to try it on my own, and it’s not like you shoved me to the ground or tripped me. I was my clumsy self and lost my footing.”

“But I should have listened to you when you told me you weren’t that good on the ice.”

“I was until I wasn’t. And that’s not your fault.” Matt’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but you brush it off. “Overall, I’m not upset with you, I don’t regret going, and I sure as hell won’t hold this against you. Accidents happen, baby, and that’s okay.”

Matt listens to your words and finally nods. He brings your entwined hands up to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to your own.

“I love you,” he whispers, staring down into your eyes. “I love you so much, you have no idea.” Chuckling softly, you lean over and kiss him, finally feeling able to get up and move around a bit.

“I love you too, honey. Always will.”

After devouring the takeout food Matt ordered and icing your cast once more, Matt brings you upstairs, two plastic bags and a couple hair ties in his hands. With ease, he wraps your cast in the bags, securing it with the hair ties. He was tender and sweet as he helped you shower, planting kisses on your cheek or your bare shoulder every now and then, taking matters into his own hands and washing your hair and body for you.

Drying off and making sure you were comfortable in the clothes he picked out, you both head back to the couch and curl up, Matt getting another ice pack for you as the pain meds start to wear off a little. He kept them nearby on the coffee table just in case.

You had picked out a movie to watch just as rain had started falling on the house, a calming sound to ease your mind. Matt had you tucked into his left side, your cast-ridden hand laying on his stomach. The moment you took the ice pack off, Matt brings your hand up to his face and starts kissing your exposed fingers, one by one on the knuckle.

He then gently rubs his thumb over the cast, his eyes filled with a somber look as he assesses the damage he still feels like he caused. You could tell that’s where his mind was going, so you pull your hand away and reach up to turn his face towards you.

“Hey, stop that,” you whisper, kissing his jaw.

“I feel terrible,” he whispers, his voice cracking as he tries to keep the tears in. You move to sit up and fully cradle his face in your hands.

“Listen to me, baby. I will be okay. A broken wrist will heal, I don’t need surgery to reconstruct anything, just this for six weeks and then a brace. I don’t need physical therapy to learn how to use it again, it will be alright. Things happen. I really don’t want you taking all the blame and the guilt for this when it’s not your fault. Yeah, you got me out on the ice, but it was me who slipped and it was me who tried to catch myself.”

“It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t let you go,” he mutters, and you realize that there’s no way of getting through to him. So, you roll your eyes and lay back against his chest.

“Okay, Matthew,” you grumble, not really in the mood to fight or argue if he wasn’t going to listen. This seemed to strike Matt in a way that filled him with regret, because then he was sighing and shaking his head.

“You’re right,” he whispers. “I’m…I feel terrible about it, but you are right. It wasn’t all on me, I tried my best to help you, but accidents do happen, and I understand that. It was my idea and that’s why it’s affecting me so bad.”

A few stray tears fall down his cheeks but you are quick to wipe them away.

“I understand, honey. But you wanted to share something you love with me, and I wanted to share it with you as well. If it wasn’t you, and it was my friends trying to get me to go, I would have refused. But I know how important hockey is to you and being on the ice in general. I wanted to try this with you. Remember what I said earlier?”

He nods, recalling back to how you reassured him everything was okay between the two of you, and you had no hard feelings for him regarding this.

“I meant every word before, and I still do. I’ll survive, it’s just a little bump in the road.”

Your second talk of the day seemed to have calmed him down much more, and you were thankful for that. So, you settle back down in his arms, his left hand rubbing up and down your back.

“Can I be the first one to sign your cast?” He asks after a little while of comfortable silence, watching the movie. You giggle and look up at him, wondering if he was being serious or not.

“Go get a sharpie,” you move away from him. Within a minute, he returns from his office with a sharpie he uses to sign memorabilia that the team and other companies send him, plopping down beside you. He carefully holds your cast in his hand and searches around for the perfect spot. He ends up writing right below your knuckles, and horizontal on the section on your forearm.

The forearm spot read “i love you - matty” with a little heart beside it, and the spot underneath your knuckles read “i’m sorry :(”. You laugh at his enthusiastic mood before he hands you the sharpie. You draw some random shapes along it in random spots, just to fill it in a little.

“You know everyone on the team is gonna want to sign it,” Matt says, pulling you back into his chest.

“I’m not sure there’s enough room,” you say, examining the amount of space of the medium-sized cast; it covered your fingers all the way up to the second set of knuckles, and ended ¾ of the way to your elbow. Your thumb was separated to keep it structured as well, but it was quiet comfortable. And an easy way for Matt to hold your hand.

“You could always break another bone to give them more room,” he jokes. And this time, it wasn’t a self-deprecating joke about how he was responsible for the break, you could tell just by the tone of his voice, it was light and airy, hinting at the fact he was trying to lighten the mood.

“Maybe I’ll break my leg skiing, then they’ll have a field day.” Matt can’t contain his laughter, his head thrown back and eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh, please don’t let that happen. One cast is enough for now, baby girl.”

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #hockey #hockey fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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life-is-more-than-just-a-game · 4 months

Text

♠️ Being found in the Borderlands all by your own. ♠️

Summary: You have already been in the Borderlands for a few days and are familiar with the essential components. After a game, you've lost everyone you had a good bond with. You are the only one who was able to survive. Physically and mentally injured, you sit on the side of the road in the middle of the destroyed and desolate Shibuya district. Ready to drop everything - ready to give up - you'll be found by new players who may or may not have the willingness to help you back up when you've fallen so far.

Characters: Arisu, Chishiya & Niragi.

POV: gn!reader

Warnings: Threats, Weapon (Gun)

A r i s u

The sight of you reminds him a little of himself. He knows the look on your face when you stare in the middle of the void and don't make any effort to move from the spot, even though you know exactly how dangerous it is to just stay in one place and do nothing. When Arisu finds you, he immediately knows what's going on inside you, which is why he's already determined to help you in some way. The problem is that he doesn't know how to help you, considering he doesn't even know how to help himself.

And yet he dares to come to you after a moment's hesitation. Slowly, so you don't think he's trying to hurt you, but… even that wouldn't matter to you at that moment.

At least you don't even dare to look at him. You could say that your self-protection mechanism has left you completely. You're not afraid. No grief. Just… well, what do you feel? Nothing. Actually, it's just an oppressive void.

"I like to be part of someone else's suffering."

With these words, Arisu manages to draw your attention to him. He may get a confused, almost bewildered look from you, but it's worth it to him right now.

"All right, you don't have to say anything. Let's just… let's just sit here together for a little while and look into the distance. And if you need someone to talk to, then ... I'll be here."

What a strange guy, you think.

Still ... it's quite nice gesture, of course.

C h i s h i y a

Just on the way to the next game, Chishiya meets you. He actually had better things to do than take care of you, which is why he didn't want to pay attention to you at all, but he finds it strange that you don't respond to anything.

He's just a few feet in front of you and you're looking right at him. His gaze is focused on you, you don't react. He speaks to you with a "Hard Game Finished?" but you sit silently on your spot and don't even make the slightest attempt to give him an answer. Nonsense. Apparently, you didn't even hear him. What if he waves? You're still not moving.

That eventually makes him come over to you, just to see if you're at least reacting to it. It's sad to say nothing's happening here either. Only when he squats in front of you and looks straight into your eyes, do you at least give the reaction of you to move your eyes so that you don't look straight into his. Eye contact has never been your strength.

"Pale. Slight tremor. Indifference."

He doesn't care if you listen to him at all, but the fact is, he's going to have to give up the upcoming game after all.

"A slight shock, it looks like."

Without thinking about it, he sits down on the stony, cold floor, inspecting the wound in your face while keeping a healthy distance from you.

"I can stitch the wound when you come back to reality."

Why is he even telling you this? He'll have to start smiling about it himself. There won't be any feedback from you either way.

"It's okay", he says, "I have time."

N i r a g i

Most people who know him know how impulsive and violent Niragi can be, but as far as you're concerned, you have absolutely no clue. You didn't even mean for him to trip over your legs. You just sit on the floor and try to deal with the straightforward experience somehow. Forget the pictures of your comrades being brutally murdered. But now you are being prevented from doing so by being all the time riddled with a psycho, one might say, whom you have never even seen before in your life.

Normally, you'd apologize for what happened. I don't care if it was really your fault or not. As long as they leave you alone and go back on their way. And if there weren't any excuses, you'd at least take your legs and just walk away to get out of the situation.

Today, however, it is different. You let the curse and the provocation come upon you. Insults pass you by and don't interest you in the slightest. This, however, makes everything feel even worse. Don't you always say you shouldn't get involved with people like that? That you should just ignore them because then they'd stop harassing you? After all, it should be boring to just give monologues at some point, right? Not with Niragi, who will eventually point his gun at you, threatening to kill you if you continue to ignore him.

"Do it," you whisper softly to yourself, which is more than just serious. "Kill me," you continue, "there's nothing keeping me here any more…"

That's where you finally turn to the unknown, whom you have taken out of concept with these words.

He lowers his gun slowly and only looks at you with irritation. Did you really just say that? Did you really just give him permission to kill you with his own hands? To shoot you down?

"Wow."

Even him makes this speechless.

"Looks like someone's already done with their life."

Without saying anything else, he looks down at you in disgust, holding the gun loosely with both of his hands again, before only a bored "Hm" comes over him.

"Freak", he says, leaving you alone from now on.

Luck in unhappiness, you think ...

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rosepetalmark · 5 months

Text

nonsense.

warnings: nsfw | mentions of alcohol/being drunk, sex, swearing, possession!kink (kinda) pairing: young! coriolanus snow (pre hunger games) x fem! reader summary: a late night drunk call with your best friend turns spicy -> inspired by "nonsense" by sabrina carpenter -> 4.7k words

he was drunk. you knew the moment you answered the phone that’s been constantly ringing throughout your house the past ten minutes. you hoped it was the wrong number. or someone wanting to discuss flower arrangements with your mother. lavish renovations and additions to your house never stopped, prompting you to never bat an eye at the never ending late night phone calls catered towards your parents.

the luxuries never seemed to end, not when you’re a member of one of the most elite families within the capitol.

but it wasn’t a wrong number. it was a number that was all too familiar to your memory, one you called frequently whenever you wanted a close friend to chat with.

it was unusual for him to call you so late at night, especially on a friday. he normally was buried in textbooks, determined to maintain the top spot in the class in order to gain him the plinth prize.

but tonight was different, because you know he, and along with all your classmates, were at clemensia dovecote’s party. you decided to skip out on the party your dear friend clem was hosting, still recovering from the hangover you experienced last week from the party marcus hosted at his parents vacation home.

anything personal and as scandalous as a party was forbidden at the academy, as academics, poise, and determination were all factors each and every student were expected to uphold. anything less than such would result in expulsion. that didn’t stop you and your fellow classmates from having sneaky get-togethers filled with alcohol and capitol grade drugs, many of which were obtained from your parents' homes. you all knew how to have fun, but you also knew how to keep such fun underwraps. none of the academy students wanted to face repercussions for their actions, so it was mutually agreed upon to keep such excursions to yourselves, with no further reminiscing or discussions held the following monday when school commenced.

coriolanus however, didn’t want to miss out. he skipped the last few parties because he wanted to focus on his assignments, determined to maintain his more than perfect average to ensure he was top of the class. a miniscule drop in his average would eat him alive, as anything less than perfect was a failure. that was the snow mentality after all.

tonight was different. coriolanus desperately needed a break from school, the bags under his eyes and disheveling of his hair making it well known that he was eating his notes for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. he was also most likely in attendance due to the upcoming week off for students within the academy with it being winter break after all.

you could barely muster a hello into the phone once you decided to answer it, a giddy laugh emerging from the opposite end. you could tell he was incredibly intoxicated; he always was a lightweight.

“heyyy,” he chirped, his deep voice admitting to the abundance of alcohol swimming in his body.

rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but laugh at the state he was in. it’s been a while since coriolanus had fun and left his room, always rejecting any forms of interaction away from his homework and readings;always putting his academics first, friends and parties at the very bottom of his list.

except for you. he always managed to squeeze you into his more than tight schedule.

“shouldn’t you be at a party right now?” you question.

“haha. well i was there.” he began to giggle, his voice drifting off as he began to ponder what he was going to say next. “but after a few hours it got pretty boring. festus and felix left an hour in because they’re leaving early for their road trip tomorrow, and i think hilarious went to hookup with someone. lucky man. oh, and livia threw up on clemmy, i think? not sure though.”

“why are you laughing?” you question. it wasn’t out of the ordinary for coryo to be a giggly mess when he was drunk, as it was a complete shift in his demenor compared to his sober state. when he was sober, he was cold and polished, so it was never a surprise to see him transcend into his altered state- he needed to let loose and be free more often.

“why didn’t you help clem out? you know she’s never going to let livia live it down that she threw up on her, let alone probably ruined one of her new dresses.”

“because i want to laugh!” he pouts, completely ignoring your question about his friends. well, friend. clemensia was a close friend. livia was barely an acquaintance. “i think i’m fairly intoxicated and that’s probably why but, wow i feel so light. content even. i don’t believe i’m drunk to the point where i won’t remember anything, but this is a nice shift in my state, like amnice little pick me up”

rolling your eyes, you couldn’t help but think of how much of a pompous ass he was sounding like. even when he was drunk, he had to sound intellectual.

the last time you went out with coryo was months ago, right when the spring semester ended and you were all finished for the summer. but you never saw him drunk. he was always composed in social settings, never allowing his guard down when those around him were getting drunk or high. he has a reputation to uphold, and he never wanted to appear as less than flawless.

“why’d you call me so late, coryo? you never call this late. you're never drunk for that matter either, might i add.”

“i was bored and wanted to play a game with my lovely best friend,” he exclaims.

“coriolanus, it’s one in the morning. i'm in no mood to be playing a game right now.”

“come on. it’s not like we’re going to play a board game or video games or anything. i'm too lazy for that now. 21 questions is what i want to play.”

“i haven’t played that game since we were kids, coryo.”

“why not?” he kept pestering, not seeming to let the concept of a meaningless game go.

“because we’re not 13 and you’re not a perv trying to touch boobs for the first time in your life! you already know as much about me as i know about you. i doubt there’s anything more you’d like to ask about my life.”

and that was true. coryo kept his circle small, but even within that small circle, you were the closest to him. out of everyone at the academy, you were the only one who knew about his living condition. the only one who knew about his grandma’am’s obsessive singing of the anthem every morning. the only one who would pick up the pieces after a meltdown about his education, deeply understanding that he needed the plinth prize in order for a successful future at the university and within the political realm.

you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t imagine any romantic future with him, but you knew that was hopeless dreaming. you read him like a book, and you knew he’d only marry for the sole purpose of having an heir and carrying on the snow legacy. romance and relationships were not a priority to him.

success and power were.

“what’s your favorite colour?” he asked, cutting you off from your thoughts, not allowing you to voice your objections about this silly game to him. you truly did not want to play this game, let alone be awake right now. but if it’s what makes your best friend happy, you’ll give in for a few minutes.

“purple.”

“what is your favorite day of the week?” you ask, unamused with how the game began.

“friday,” he hums, “it gives me hope that i can relax and see my friends on the weekend before all the stress starts up again on monday.”

sighing, you couldn’t help but notice how exhausted he sounded. behind the deepness in his voice and eagerness to continue communicating,you envisioned the bags under his eyes to be anything but clear and healthy, with dark bruise-like colors covering them;a clear representation of how overworked he has been lately.

“why don’t you take a break from school?” you ask more seriously, knowing that he wouldn’t ever give you a straight answer when sober. at least when he’s drunk he’s completely honest, and with an honest answer you can find ways to help him.

scoffing, you could tell he was appalled by such a question. “you know i can't,” he whispers, raking his fingers through his long blond curls, a habit he does when trying to make himself less anxious in stressful situations.

“i need high grades. i need the plinth prize. i need to go to the university. if not, who will support tigris and grandma’am? who will support me? i can’t let my reputation-my family's reputation falter due to my lack of ambition.”

your heart broke for him. it truly did. all he ever tried to do was survive. to continue on the successful path that was once set in stone for him. but once his father died, that path crumbled within the blink of an eye, leaving coryo to be anxious every day for the rest of his life.

“sweetie, you know that won’t happen.” you say, trying to emit some positivity into his life.

“and you don’t know if it will.” he defends, his voice growing a bit higher.

“yes i do.” you say, trying your best to comfort him over the phone. “you’re coriolanus snow. you can do absolutely anything you put your mind to. it just makes me sad watching you burn yourself out trying to stick to a timeline that doesn’t even matter when you’re throwing your health and happiness down the line.”

“that’s not what i’m doing.”

“yes it is, coryo! you’re going to kill yourself if you continue at this rate.”

“anyways, i’m in no mood to argue.” he said, bringing the phone closer to his ear. “next question! and no more emotionally complex ones, please.”

with such a vast switch in conversation, you begin to ponder what you’re going to ask him. it’s been a while since you’ve played this game, your mind blanking on any possible question to ask your best friend that you highly doubt you don’t know the answer to.

“uhhhh,” you murmured, fiddling with the string on your pajama shorts to help your brain think of something to say.

yawning, he couldn’t help but become annoyed at your lack of effort in this game. “you’re taking too long, so i’ll go. when’s the last time you had a really good fuck?”

“huh?” you half yell, completely shocked at the words that left your best friend's mouth. you’ve had conversations about your sexual experiences only a handful of times, but coriolanus was always more quiet and discreet when sharing such details. never in your life would you have thought you’d hear such a bold statement come from his mouth.

“when’s the last time someone fucked you really good? i don’t remember if we talked about it or not, the last guy i remember was festus but that was months ago. or was it felix? either way, i don’t remember many details so now is the time for you to share them, my dearest best friend.”

warmth was all you felt throughout your body. not only were you shocked, but you were slightly turned on by the dominance he was eliciting through such a raunchy question. you don't know if you’re feeling this way due to embarrassment, or because deep down you wished he was one of the guys on your list that you’ve fucked.

the typical best friends to lovers trope,whatever lovers meant in this century, has always lingered at the back of your mind whenever you thought of your relationship with coriolanus. you love him, you truly do, you can ever see yourself marrying him. you’ve established a level of comfort and vulnerability with one another where you feel like you’re both open books.

you’ve always thought he viewed you both as too close to be romantic partners, not wanting to change the dynamic you’ve built for yourselves. but friends with benefits? you’ve thought of it a few times. a lot of times actually. you just never thought to bring up the idea simply because he’s your best friend, and because he was always busy. he left scandalous hookups and rendezvous strictly for summer, keeping them so deeply locked in his mind you had to pry for the tiniest of details.

“felix was the last guy i slept with actually, however i enjoyed myself with sejanus more. felix was decent, but it took me like 20 minutes to finish. it’s like he wasn’t even trying to get me off, like he was just there to get his dick wet and leave. sejanus, my god he was good.”

“how good?” he asks, his voice getting deeper, his eyes widening as you go into further detail about the best sex you’ve had in a while.

“aren’t you so curious,” you joke, thinking back to how well sejanus treated you during your last hookup.”it was maybe like three months ago? maybe four, i can't really remember the timeline but my god did he make me feel so good. i swear i came like three times, corio, it was crazy. i never thought i’d have sex on a kitchen counter but one minute he was showing me the blueberry muffins his ma made, and then the next thing i knew my back was digging into the countertop and he was eating me out like it was his last meal on earth it was phenom-”

“i bet i could make you feel like that again,” he said sternly, his voice appearing angier.

“wait, w-what?” you stuttered, needing to know if you heard him correctly.

“i said”, he coughed, clearing his throat. “ i could make you feel that good. better, even.”

“corio,” you sighed, a sense of eagerness lingering in your voice. you could feel your face heat up, his words are heating you up. “you’re um, you’ve had a lot to um. what i’m trying to say is-”

“i want to fuck you.”

“you’re drunk, coriolanus. you’ll probably forget you had such a thought in the morning and you’ll laugh it off if i bring it up to you so um, yeah. we can gloss over this and just pretend you didn’t just uh- yeah, you did not just say that. you’re speaking nonsense.”

the smart, energetic, compassionate boy you call your best friend has turned stoic, yet there was a sense of hesitation in his voice. “please, i promise i’m no longer drunk, and i one thousand percent mean what i said. when have i ever lied?”

“considering about an hour ago you were wasted, i’d rather wait to have a conversation about this with you tomorrow or something.”

“so come over.”

“what?”

“come over and we can talk and i can guide you through all the times i’ve had a hard on because of you or how i’ve touched myself thinking about you. or how i'd get jealous of every guy that’s ever had the opportunity to touch you and make you feel good.”

“why didn’t you say something i don’t know like, like forever ago?” you were becoming eager. desperate to understand the words coming from his mouth. desperate to know that they are true.

“oh,” he sighed. “school you know. or you’d be with someone. i didn’t want to interfere with your personal relationships, seeming as they should be kept quiet. talking to you tonight and hearing about you with sejanus, of all people, my goodness, why? but anyways, it stirred something within me and i really needed to tell you. and part of this may be because i’m horny and haven’t gotten laid in a really long time but you’re also so beautiful and funny and god please say something because i’m so hard.”

your breath was hot. you let out a long exhale, trying to wrap your mind around the absurdities leaving his mouth right now. “you’re talking nonsense, coryo.”

“i’m not, and you know it.”

and you know he’s not lying. you know he’s a terrible liar. he’s told you many times that he can't tell a lie to save his life.you want him to kiss you so hard that neither of you can breathe. you want him to treat you like a fragile piece of glass, to take his time with you, covering every delicate part of your body with harsh, dark love bites. you want everyone to know that your body was his and his was yours. you want him to beg for every part of you before he could even lay a single finger on your body.

you want to fuck coriolanus snow.

nervousness shot through your body. were you actually going to go over to screw your best friend? the thought had crossed your mind several times, but you never imagined such intense and intimate thoughts would come to life. you’ve always felt some sort of sexual tension with him, so why not enjoy it and move on?

“i’ll be at your place in twenty,” you say, abruptly ending the call and grabbing your shoes and a sweater.

you were on you way to fuck your best friend. ___

you barely made it up the stairs of the penthouse before you were whisked away into coryo’s room, his lips eagerly attacking your neck as you brought your hands to his messy curls to tug at.

your back was slammed up against his door, his plump lips aggressively kissing every inch of your body, touching you like he was starved of intimacy and lust.

kissing him was invigorating. you can’t believe you’ve spent all your life away from his luscious lips and rough touch. you’ve only been in his physical presence for less than five minutes, and you already know he’s going to treat you so well.

you know you’re not going to be able to walk properly for days.

but as coriolanus continues to pepper loves bites down your neck, his hand trailing toward your chest, unzipping the hoodie you threw on when you left your house, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was right. he was your best friend after all. you’ve never done anything romantic with one another. the most physical thing you’ve done was hug, which was only done on a rare occasion. physical affection was banned in the academy, and coryo had a composed reputation to uphold when out in public in the capitol. hugs were left for late night goodbyes or comfort when needed-nothing less, nothing more.

breaking away from his devouring kisses, you bring yourself to stare into his lustful blue eyes. “should we be doing this?” you whisper.

fear struck his face and you could feel his body tense up, his tight grip on you faltering as the words left your mouth. “is this not what you want?” he questions, his face scrunching in confusion. “we can stop if you don’t want me.”

the words “if you don't want me” were floating through your brain. how could he possibly think you don’t want him? he’s everything anyone could ever want and more. you’ve been yearning for this moment for as long as you could remember.

“coryo.” you sigh, bringing your hand to his delicate cheek, rubbing your thumb against it. “i only want you. i just don’t want this to make things weird between us, that’s all. you’re not just another guy for me to fuck.”

you could tell your words had an impact on him, as his hard on was pressed against your thigh, growing with your confessions towards wanting him. needing him.

“princess.” he growls. “nothing will change, i promise. i want you more than you could ever imagine. okay?”

“mhm, yeah okay. sorry. i was just overthinking.”

“no need to overthink, love. it’s just you and me, right?"

“right.” you answer, your confidence slowly coming back. you bring your lips back to his, slowly regaining the hunger you felt for him on your walk over. you two carry off immediately where you left off, his lips back on yours, your hands back in each other’s hair.

“what’s your favourite position?” he asks, his breath becoming heavier in between kisses.

while coriolanus begins to unzip your sweater, you begin to ponder. missionary never fails, but you’ve waited too long for this moment to partake in such a mundane position. reverse cowgirl hits all the right spots, but then you won’t be able to see coriolanus’ face as he cums. you want to see him crumble. you want him moaning in your ear from the pleasure he feels. you want tears streaming down your face from how good and deep he fucks you.

“i want to ride you,” you say confidently.

“that’s my girl,” he smirks, lifting you up. you wrap your legs around his waist, bringing your hands to his cheeks as you begin to kiss him deeply, him walking you to both to his bed so he can show you how good he can make you feel.

he’s on top of you, pressing his body deeper into yours as you continue to makeout with each other, your tongues aggressively intertwining as one. it’s like you’re both animals in heat. you can’t get enough of each other, touching every available part of your bodies as a means of becoming closer to each other. he quickly slides down your shorts, his pants shortly following, and you push your hips up, slowly grinding into his dick. he’s so hard. and big, from what you can feel. you need him in you. now.

“coryo,” you whine, rubbing your hands up his chest, signaling that you want his shirt off, the only article of clothing left preventing your two naked bodies to be pressed together as one.

“mhm?” he questions, continuing to kiss your flushed lips.

“please, i need you now,” you beg, signaling for him to roll over and pull you on top of him. it’s as if he can read your mind, as he turns over instantly and grabs you by the waist, throwing you on his thighs. he places a chaste kiss to your lips, then lines his hard on with your entrance. he stares into your eyes, silently asking if you were ready. you quickly nod, and the moment you sink down into him, you’re in ecstasy. you start off slow, trying to adjust to his size, slowly but surely picking up the speed once you’ve become adjusted to him.

“god you take me so well, baby,” he moaned in your ear, your walls clenching around his dick as you continue to grind into him. his hands were gripping into your hips, and with each thrust you were seeing stars, something you’ve never felt when with anyone before.

“you feel so good coriolanus. so good mmh,” you pant, your legs becoming sore as you continue to bounce on him. “no one’s ever made me feel this way before.”

“not even sejanus?” he questions, smirking as he thrusts into you a bit harder at the mention of his enemy's name.

“no!” you moan, basking in the pleasure he’s providing you. “only you, coryo. no one’s ever fucked me as good as you. just want you.”

“good.” he says, continuing to match your rhythm. “i don’t want you fucking anyone else. or thinking of anyone else. just me, baby. can you do that?”

you slow down your rhythm, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and pulling him into a hunger-filled kiss. he matches your rhythm, indulging in the kiss you two are sharing. “coryo, i’ve been dreaming of this moment for so long, please. i just want you. only you. not just physically,” you sigh, both in pleasure and in sadness.

you want him, way beyond sex. you want to hold his hand in public. you want him to cup your face and kiss you when something excites him. you want to be the mother of his children. the first lady to his president.

you want him to consume you in all aspects of your life.

“i want you too, gorgeous.” he grunts, the shakiness in his voice and slowed down thrusts signalling that he was close. “it’s only ever been you.”

you grip onto his shoulders, picking your pace back up, feeling your high fast approaching. you slam your hips into his, causing his dick to twitch inside you, his eyes rolling far back into his head.

“i love it when your eye roll because of me.” you cry, continuing to sink your body deeper into his. “i’m so close, coryo.”

he adjusts his grip on your body, helping you grind your hips deeper into his. he moans in agreeance, sensing you were becoming tired, aiding you both in your climaxes as he thrusts himself deeper into you, hitting you in all the right places.

you’re so overwhelmed by the pleasure you’re receiving. your breath is hitched and your thighs are aching, but you refuse to give in to your exhaustion. this feels too good to give up, and you can tell coriolanus felt the same way. his thrusts were becoming sloppy, a bead of sweat slowly trickling down his forehead as he continues to pound into you, desperate to finish.

the hums of his moans were deep in your ear, eliciting the knot in your stomach to final loosen, and all you see is white. coriolanus continues to pump himself in you, slowly coming deep in your core as you continue to ride out both of your highs.

“you’re doing so well baby.” he moans, his pace being more spaced out, your orgasms getting the best of you. you both sink into one another, your movements stopped, giving you both a breather to catch your breaths and gather yourselves. coriolanus slowly pulls out of you, hugging your waist to ensure your physical contact isn’t broken.

his cheeks were glowing, and you couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss to his collarbone. coriolanus tucks the loose piece of hair lingering by your forehead behind your ear, staring into your eyes with such admiration, hardly breaking eye contact as you examine his beautiful face.

“this wasn’t how i thought my night would turn out.” you giggled, tracing circles on his chest.

“neither did i, but i guess a lot of stress and a little posca can do wonders.” he explains, smiling at your joke.

you stare back into his blue orbs, wondering what he’s thinking.

“i meant it when i said i want you.” he confirms. “i tried to deny my feelings for you for so long, believing that if i maintained my studies and didn’t partake in relationships, i’d have everything together. but that was a lie, because you consume my every thought. i don’t think i can live another day without you being mine."

“are you just saying that because you’re jealous i slept with sejanus?” you joke, attempting to process the heartfelt confession that slipped from his lips.

scoffing, he couldn’t help but press a kiss to your forehead. “well, that was an error on your part but i’ll pretend it never happened for my ego’s sake. but no, i’ve realized i’ve held my feelings in for far too long, and it’s time i’m open about them and with you. i like you, very much. and i’m hoping there’s a future for us together that is beyond platonic friendship.”

bringing him in for a deep hug, your bare bodies becoming one, you can’t help but feel content with how this night is going. you started the night off thinking you’d be annoyed asking coriolanus questions about his favourite animals or guilty pleasures, not engulfed in his warm arms, blushing at his crush confession towards you.

“i like you too, coriolanus, and i would love to be your girlfriend.”

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