#i didn’t expect it at the same time????

[chunksworld]

Role Model

NewJeans Hanni x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: A sequel to Double Fantasy. Thank you Kaede for the beta read as always.

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“Never have I ever…..” Danielle looks around the room with suspense, tapping her palms on her thighs as if to mimic the sound of a drum roll. You make your way back to the circle and sit down with the rest of your friend group, another can of beer in hand as you impatiently wait for the blonde to speak,  “…..made out with someone here!” You almost spit out the beer you were about to take a swig of but managed to keep your composure. You catch Minji staring at you for a split second before looking away immediately. It’s great that you’re both intoxicated already because there’s no other explanation for how your cheeks flare up. Jeers and whistles follow Danielle’s remark and you can only be thankful that some of your friends do raise their hands up, particularly some of the couples sitting with the rest of the group.

It’s only been a month since you and Minji have made it official—a decision you two contemplated even after you already took her out on a date (and despite having plenty of sex during that time). Sure, hooking up is one thing but committing to a relationship would be a venture much riskier than anything you have ever done especially since you are both graduating in a few months. How would everyone react when they find out that the two people that hate each other with their guts are fucking each other like wild animals at every given opportunity? Well, you two got your answer much quicker than expected when her best friend who also happens to be her next door neighbor, Hanni, caught you leaving Minji’s place way past midnight as you usually do—and this wouldn’t be that big of an issue as you were just about to put your cap and mask back on but she already saw your face as you two opened your doors at the exact same time.

It took everything in her power not to scream in shock as everyone else was already asleep at the time which is something you’ve always thought to be the case. It didn’t take her that long to put two and two together and everything was a blur and you soon found yourself sitting on Minji’s cum-stained bed having to be interrogated by an obviously flabbergasted Hanni Pham at 2:30 AM. Despite her modest stature, no one else looked as intimidating (and cute) as her in her pajamas. At least the scent of sex was quickly taken care of but she couldn’t hide her disgust at the sight of your combined juices on her best friend’s bed. She quickly looked past it though because her burning questions were more important and you two had no choice but to come clean, explaining everything that’s transpired over these past few months. With every revelation, her jaw seemed to be dropping lower and lower to the ground. 

Everything was a bombshell revelation for her; the fact that you two were having sex right next door and that she didn’t hear any of it, the fact that you two pretended to despise each other. But what seemed to shock her the most was that you two are actually dating. It took her a while to process everything—and by “a while” I mean she sat there opposite you two in silence like you’ve just been told off by a very disappointed parent for thirty excruciating minutes (in some ways, Hanni was indeed sort of the parent of the friend group). Thankfully, she agreed to keep her mouth shut about everything and very sternly told you to wear protection in the future because she “doesn’t want to have to babysit yet” to which you obliged. It was peaceful again after that but you knew you had to be more careful in the future because the rest of her friends will absolutely not keep something like this a secret.

“Wanna leave this party already? Can’t wait to ride that thick cock.”

A text, and it’s from the woman sitting directly in front of you—your girlfriend. She didn’t even need to send the text because you could already see in your eyes how badly she wants you. She’s been eye-fucking you for the past hour and it’s absolutely making you hot and bothered. She might as well pounce you in front of everyone if she could. It’s a side effect of her being drunk and with how she’s constantly readjusting her shorts, it’s obvious that Minji wants this night to end with her getting fucked into her bed again. A request that you’ll gladly oblige since this game is already starting to bore you anyways.

“Sure.”

To avoid any suspicion, she leaves first after bidding farewell to everyone. Followed by you twenty minutes later after “accidentally” spilling beer all over yourself. It was a quick getaway like clockwork, having to excuse yourselves plenty of times already from group gatherings just to satisfy your intense libido. It’s a great thing that Danielle’s place is only a five minute drive from Minji’s dorm because you can’t wait to get out of your pants. You excitedly made your way up to her room, disguise and all. Knocking on the door, you expected her to pull you in by your neck and makeout with you but what greeted you was her and Hanni sitting on the bed instead. What the fuck? There was certainly tension in the atmosphere—and silence? This is peculiar; it’s always pandemonium whenever those two best friends hang out—whether it’s Minji teasing Hanni for butchering her Korean or Hanni begging her not to do anything stupid. “Oh, you’re finally here.” Speaking of which, your girlfriend walks over to you and grabs you by your hand.

“Remember when I told you that we have an open relationship?”

Right. 

When you two were establishing the ground rules for your relationship, she made it clear that you were free to see other people. It definitely surprised you as you didn’t think Minji was that type of woman. But then again, you didn’t think she would be so willing to get dicked down by the person she hated the most and yet here you are. Of course you complied with her request. It’s the 21st century after all, so who cares about traditional dating norms? Plus, it’s not like she doesn’t have friends that you’d just like to get to know better and the freedom she gives is a welcome one. But that also meant she’s free to fuck around with other guys, something that bothered you for a while but eventually came to terms with. “Yeah, what about it?”

“Hanni wants you for the night. Sorry I couldn’t tell you through text earlier, didn’t wanna be rude or anything.” How can she be so casual about the entire thing? Especially when this is actually the first time the rule is being put to use. And for it to happen so early into your time together astounds you. Has she been dying to share you with her friends even when you were just casual fuckbuddies? Perhaps, but that’s a question you’ll continue to ask for another day. “You’re not actually about to turn her down are you? Don’t even lie and tell me that you haven’t thought about fucking her.” She’s not exactly wrong and as if she reads your mind, “She’s not a virgin if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Minji! I-I don’t want to force him. I just had a crappy first-time with my ex and you always talk about how good he is…..” Hanni’s face turns a darker shade of red with every word spoken and you would’ve almost called her “cute” if it wasn’t for the circumstance. Minji was right, she tends to babble whenever she’s nervous. “If he’s not okay with it I can just—“

“I accept.” You would have to be insane to refuse such an offer. It’s Hanni Pham out of all people. She probably has just as many admirers, maybe even more than Minji. To say that you haven’t let your thoughts run wild whenever she wears an outfit that exposes all of her prominent features would be a big lie. Just like the outfit she’s got on now; a white crop top and shorts, with the varsity jacket the only thing preventing her from exposing more skin. Fuck, she looks so tempting. You really have to get out of your pants sooner or later because the way Minji riled you up earlier isn’t calming your senses anytime soon.“Is there anything specific you want me to do? I’m pretty sure Minji’s already told you how wild we can be.”

“I want you to teach me how to have sex—well, I want you to teach me how to have sex. Properly.” There’s a glimmer of desperation and want in her eyes, her eyes telling you what she can not say directly. Hanni is, and forever will be, your girlfriend’s best friend. But with how tonight is shaping up to be, you might just want to keep coming back for more. “Let’s just take it slow, if that’s fine with you.”

“Don’t worry! He’ll take care of you, right?” Of course. You’ll have to ease her into your world—into you and Minji’s world. Your girlfriend always loved to lead the way every time you fucked her but a change in dynamic with Hanni’s got you even more riled up than you already are. Minji wraps an arm around your shoulder and the way she casually hands you off to her best friend as if you’re a puppy is extremely astounding. When she mentioned that she wants to keep things open between you two, you didn’t think it would include you taking on the task of teaching her friends such a sinful and dangerous act. But it’s not like you’re complaining, one glance over to the short but petite woman in front of you is enough to make you salivate. She takes your silence as an affirmative and is already dragging you two out of her room. “Great! I already placed a condom in your backpocket.” You immediately reach for the back of your pants and sure enough, the aluminum-wrapped piece of contraption is there.

“Have fun! And try not to make too much noise please, I’ve got an exam tomorrow I need to study for okay? Love you both!” A flying kiss is sent to your direction before slamming the door in your face. And despite the confidence you exceeded just mere minutes before, now you find yourself on your backfoot. It’s suffocating, it’s tense, and you don’t know whether you want to just drag her to her room and pin her against the wall or if you want to show some restraint like she told you to. Maybe it’s because you’ve never really known how to take it slow: in life and in bed. Everything is rushed, as if there’s a billion things that need to be done. Maybe things can change for one night only. But Hanni is already one-step ahead of you, gently dragging you by your sleeve towards her room. Her room smells nice, lights turned way down low to a dark shade of red, and her sheets folded up nicely. She notices you scanning her room and before you could get the chance to tease her about being so prepared you find yourself crashing on her bed with her on top.

Excitedly, you lean close to her face to capture her lips but a hand pushes you gently away from her. “S-Sorry, no kissing.” As if to not deflate your ego she quickly interjects, “But you can leave hickeys if you want instead.” That sounds good enough for you, kissing her would bring a whole host of new feelings that you definitely don’t want to explore any time soon so you opt for her irresistible neck instead. She strips away her varsity jacket, leaving her in just her crop top and shorts that are starting to feel warmer by the second. This exposes more skin for you to taste and you dive lower down to her clavicles and collarbones, making sure to leave red marks. Her hands aren’t idle, creeping slowly underneath your shirt as soft moans start to come out of her lips. You eventually take over, flipping your positions so that you’re now on top of her. You find both of her hands and intertwine them with yours, pushing them above her head as you devour her body and leave as much of it red as possible.

“I want to see more of you.” Hanni finally says something after a few minutes and you obey her commands. Your beer-soaked shirt comes off first and joins her varsity jacket on the carpeted floor, Hanni’s eyes immediately darting towards the expanse of your upper body and her wandering hands drag themselves towards your shoulders then down your chest. She’s eyeing you like a piece of meat to devour the same way you are doing to her. You don’t give her much time to ogle however as your lips find their way to her neck once again. Even biting her lips does very little to muffle her moans as you continue to leave mark after mark on her collarbones, drinking in the way she calls for you, yearns for you. A hand makes its way down to her toned tummy and you almost apologize with the way she hisses, “C-Cold….” She mutters, eyes closing and tongue sticking ever so slightly out. You really, desperately want to have a taste of her lips at this very moment and to have them slotted against yours but rules are rules. Even though the way they glisten under the warm, red lights of her room makes it extremely tempting to do so. You distract yourself, you have to. One hand is already fumbling with the straps of her undershirt while the other makes its way further down to her thighs, massaging and appreciating their softness and fullness. The motion causes her to jerk and slightly arch her back off of the bed and you immediately take a step back. Shit, were you being too hasty?

“Sorry, tell me if I’m moving too fast for your liking.” 

You take deep breaths when you pull away as you desperately try to keep your hormones in check and be a gentleman for once but still eyeing her almost naked body in front of you. Hanni shakes her head and wraps her arms around your neck to bring you closer to her again, burying your face on the crook of her neck as you inhale her floral scent. “It’s fine. It’s just—it’s just that it’s been a while since I’ve had a guy touch me down there. Her nails slowly drag their way down your back as you place soft pecks on her neck. “You can touch me wherever you want, I’m yours for tonight.” You hate the way a guttural groan escapes out of your mouth, having been given the green light to completely let loose. You don’t wait this time, yanking her undershirt to reveal a pair of soft and round breasts, perfect for her body size. The absence of a bra surprises you but it’s a welcome one at that. Meanwhile, you work on expertly unbuttoning her denim shorts and they’re thrown off somewhere in the room with hunger and you don’t miss the wet patch already forming on her panties. Interestingly, she doesn’t close her thighs out of embarrassment. In fact, there’s a smile. As if she knows she’s got you right where she wants you.

“Fuck, Hanni. I’m gonna treat you so good tonight. That I can assure you.” You carefully place a pillow behind her, instructing her to sit by the headboard as you remove the final obstruction. It’s at this moment that it truly hits you that Hanni Pham is in front of you, completely naked. Forget winning the lottery, the fact that your girlfriend is allowing you to fuck her friends is a price worth more than anything on this planet. For all the times you imagined how she’d look underneath her clothes, it still doesn’t beat the sight of the actual thing. The way she is curvy and thick at the same time in the most perfect combination possible; she may only be nineteen but she’s certainly grown into a full-fledged woman—one that’s made all of the guys crazy for her. You don’t even hesitate to spread her legs wide, her thighs already soaked when you make your way up to drink in as much of her essence as you possibly can. She’s already quivering under your touch but your strong arms keep her in her place as you continue to taste as much of Hanni Pham. But nothing compares when you finally stick your tongue out and take an experimental lick of her folds, a finger expertly playing with her clit to increase her pleasure.

Hanni is biting her lips so hard that you’re sure it’s bleeding already. You would’ve told her that it’s okay to moan freely because she’s not that loud to begin with but when you start to lick more hungrily and aggressively, plans quickly change. She grabs a pillow to cover her face and stifle her moans, and it’s fortunate that she did so because the sound she makes when you finally stick your tongue inside of her is loud enough for Minji to definitely hear. Knowing her, she will be proud of how well you are eating Hanni out like it’s your last meal. It’s truly heaven right now though, the way she tastes, the way she sounds, and the way her thighs are about to crush your head that you can’t help but reach down to your sweatpants and boxers and pull them down just enough to reveal your aching cock, slowly stroking yourself as precum slowly drips out onto her bed. But tonight is about her and you want to make sure that you’re doing a great job so you don’t even care that your face is drenched with her essence already. You begin to alternate between your finger and tongue, an act that causes her to take exasperated breaths and silent moans as her mouth opens wide. “Cum for me, Pham. I wanna hear you.”

It’s clear that she loves being told what to do because at your command, she starts getting tighter and tighter around your fingers and tongue—her pussy throbbing wildly. So much so that she’s writhing and clinging to the sheets so hard they’re surely going to be ripped off the bed soon. “Hmph! C-Cumming!” It’s all you hear from underneath her pillows when she grabs your hair by the fistful and pushes you closer into her, allowing you to drive your fingers deeper inside her. Thirty seconds. That is all it took for her to come completely undone, arching her sweaty body completely off of her bed and to moan your name shamelessly out loud. Now, you’re really hoping that everyone else is deep asleep because that wasn’t silent at all. Not that you’re going to complain, if everyone wants to know how good the popular girl on campus is being treated, let them. Your face is even more drenched at this point and you are just lapping up every single drop of her juices as she recovers from her mindblowing orgasm. You pull away, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand then proceed to lay down beside her. There’s a few fleeting minutes of silence and you’re more than happy to stop here for the night if it’s already too much for her but clearly Hanni is not done yet (which is honestly a great thing for you because you don’t want all of your cum to end up on the shower tiles instead).

Just like what you did to her, she instructs you to sit by the headboard as she crawls her way towards you like a cat. “I wanna return the favor.” It’s no surprise that you are already leaking with precum, your cock swollen and throbbing the minute Hanni pulls your sweatpants and boxers together down. It’s been a while since you’ve had sex with Minji due to how busy you are and you could really use some relieving of tension down there. An audible gasp can be heard from her at the sight of your length, probably wondering how it manages to fit inside her best friend—your girlfriend. She grabs a hair tie off her wrist to turn her hair into a ponytail then uses a finger to swipe at the precum continuing to drip out of your cockhead. You don’t know if she’s teasing you but that look of satisfaction on her face as she brings that finger inside her mouth like she’s eating ice cream is downright erotic. “Need that mouth on my cock, Hanni. Please.” You may be the one in charge but she’s got you wrapped around her fingers much like Minji does at this very moment. Once done with her “snack”, she forms a fist around your cock, beginning to pump you at a leisurely pace and now you’re the one closing your eyes and groaning her name

Hanni scans your expressions to find the perfect pace and soon, she’s fondling your balls as well. Are you sure she doesn’t know how to have proper sex? Because the heavenly touch of her fingers and the way she’s cupping your heavy balls suggests that she wants you to explode all over her face even though you want to save it somewhere else. Now she’s dictating the pace and before you can tell her to slow it down a little, lowers her head down to your cock and slowly but surely behind to take you inside her mouth inch by inch. It looks like if there's one thing her ex taught her, it’s how to give a blowjob because her gag reflex is essentially nonexistent as she takes you all the way to the back of her throat. The feeling is electrifying and numbing both at once; her mouth is nice and warm and cozy—a toe-curling experience that can only be described as fucking amazing. 

“Your mouth takes cock so well, shit.” She hums with your cock still inside her mouth, forming a vacuum to increase your pleasure and another groan of her name leaves your mouth. You really want to facefuck her now and have her mouth overflowing with cum, the imagery causing you to throb continuously inside her and you will have to regretfully pull her away from you soon before it gets messy. It only takes a while before a burst of precum inside her is what finally leads you to leave the confines of her mouth before it’s all too late. As much as those lips of hers look great glazed with a load of yours, she deserves better. One last kiss of your tip before she gets up on her knees and you’re noticing her thighs glistening much more than before. “I have a feeling this won’t be the last time I’ll ask for your services.” That you have to agree with, though you find it interesting how she’s making it sound like you are her male escort. Again, not that you’re complaining. “Now, fuck me will you?”

You quickly search your sweatpants for the condom, hurriedly ripping the packaging and placing it on your drenched cock before walking back to the edge of the bed where Hanni is sitting. “Right, so how do you want me?” You stand proudly in front of her, your cock clearly showing where it wants to be: inside her. While she contemplates, you stroke your cock back to hardness which wasn’t difficult considering her naked sight in front of you. She doesn’t say anything else but instead makes you sit on the edge of the bed like her. She then walks over to straddle your lap, and you don’t even have the opportunity to ask her what she’s planning when her tight heat is already sinking down on your cock. That action is enough for her to drop her head onto your shoulder as she tries to get acclimated to the size and feeling of your cock inside her. “Fucking hell, are you sure you’re not a virgin?” It wouldn’t be surprising if she lied to you all this time because not even eating her out and fingering her is enough to loosen her up—or maybe you’re just too big for her small and petite body. Either way, you needed some time to recover as well. Think about something else because the way she’s grinding her hips on your cock is downright heavenly. It’s only fortunate that there’s a thin layer of rubber in between you two in case your orgasm comes without any warning because she’s clearly an expert at this too. Do you even need to teach her anything, really?

“Y-You’re bigger than my ex! Didn’t think—fuck—didn’t think dicks can get this large.” They do, especially when it’s her that’s being fucked but you’re so lost into your own pleasures that you forget to respond. You’re not one to accept and respond to compliments well, especially when a beautiful woman is bouncing on your cock and using you as her personal dildo so you keep your mouth shut. Despite your size, Hanni eventually does get used to it because she’s slowly transitioning from grinding into bouncing when she holds on to your shoulders for support. And you can’t help but stare at the way her tits jiggle mesmerizingly in rhythm every time she comes down hard on your cock. Since she’s already given you a green light to have your way on her body, you lean down to capture her left nipple on your mouth while fondling the other. That action causes her to clench tighter around your cock and it only encourages you to suck on her tits harder, tongue swirling around her nipple. You repeat this motion with her right nipple to make sure it receives the attention it deserves. You just can’t get enough of her because even when you’re done with her breasts you’re placing kisses and licking her everywhere, each acreage of porcelain skin is marked by your kisses and you’re going to make sure that she has a hard time covering it up tomorrow.

You didn’t know when exactly it happened but your thrusts now elicit a strong reaction from her, nails taking down your back and leaving scratches that will surely sting once you get in the shower later but you must’ve hit a spot that not even her ex or her dildos could reach because she’s downright screaming and having to bury herself on your neck to lower down the volume. Quickly taking advantage of this, you start thrusting upwards in response to her bounces and she’s basically cursing and moaning your name by this point as her sweaty body clings on to you. 

“Tell me if you’re gonna cum, Hanni. I’ll make sure to give you the best one you ever had.” A whisper to her contrasting loud moans as you leave kisses on the side of her head and eventually, her forehead. No verbal response but you can feel her nod against your shoulders and that’s when you knew it was time to bring it home. You wrap your arms around her waist tightly and try to hit that spot again and again. Cries of pleasure reverberates around her tiny room and she’s shivering against you as her orgasm overtakes her again. A much stronger orgasm that has her pussy squeezing tightly around your cock but you manage to hold on despite dying to cum inside her.

You hold on to her arms to prevent her from falling backwards, patting her back gently and fixing any disheveled hair caused by the mess. “D-Did you cum, too?” A shameful ‘no’ leaves your lips and you’re scared that she’ll think that she’s not a good fuck, that you were just forcing everything you were doing for the past thirty minutes when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Hanni pulls away from her neck to look at you in surprise, then it hits her. “You want to cum in my pussy, don’t you? Fine, I’ll just take a morning pill.” You’re glad Minji briefed her already, because the one place you don’t want your cum to end up in is a twenty dollar condom. If it was quick for you to put the condom on then it’s even quicker to take it off as you briefly get her off of you. Her slick has caused it to shrink around your cock but it doesn’t matter as you snap it off and throw it in the trash. Pull her down to your lap again, this time it is easy to sink her back down to your cock and you quickly get to fucking.

The lack of latex makes for an extreme sensation that has you moaning and groaning as you fuck her for the second time. But that’s not enough as you lift both of you from her bed and carry her in your arms, causing her to tightly wrap your limbs around you as gravity aids you in fucking her. It’s the perfect position because you get two handfuls of her ass while she bounces on your cock and because she’s somehow louder than before as you are basically splitting her in half. Every single thrust drives your tip into her cervix and you’re sure she’s seeing stars by the way she’s clinging on to you for dear life as you fold her up like a lawn chair in this position. It’s so easy to manhandle her, the way her light body just bends to your will and you’ll definitely give her a much bigger load now that you are fucking her raw. The loud slaps of skin fill the room as you continue to fuck up into her, not even waiting for her to come down before you thrust again. There’s no way you’re absolutely lasting longer than ten minutes this time because of how you prevented yourself from cumming twice already so you end up jackhammering into her, the tension in your balls increasing by the second as you are ready to unload. 

“Cum in me!“ is all you hear before the overwhelming sensation and tension finally snaps, the first rope of hot cum causes a smaller, second orgasm from Hanni. It’s fucking euphoric and blissful, the way each rope takes away all of your frustrations—filling every single space inside her womb, the way it coats your cock and drips back down to your balls and to her floor with how much you came inside her, the way it completely takes over your body, causing you to fall back down to her bed and bring her with you. “Cum for me again, can you do that for me?” A faint voice from Hanni as she gyrates her hips to match your thrusts. It’s not like you were planning on doing anything different. You can’t stop, won’t stop pumping into her despite both of you being oversensitive and sure enough, you find yourself unloading inside her for a second time five minutes later as if you didn’t already cum inside her. This fresh load replaces the previous one and soon, her sheets are soiled with cum as well. You haven’t cum this hard and this much in a while, the prospect of fucking your girlfriend’s best friend making you hornier than you have been before and it’s showing.

It’s a sticky mess once everything finally settles down, with her finding it difficult to get off of you with how much semen you’ve unloaded inside her that she’s definitely going to need that morning pill. A mess between her thighs is what you have to show for it once she does and you’re absolutely spent when she lays down beside you. “Fuck, that was hot.” Surprisingly, she still has the strength to get off her bed and collect both of your clothes while also cleaning herself up in the process. Right. This is not Minji’s room and it would be even more scandalous if other people find out you just had sex with your girlfriend’s best friend. She quickly throws you your clothes and you work on putting them back on. “You’re as good as advertised, I’ll definitely recommend you to Danielle.” Danielle? Her varsity jacket and shorts are worn in a hurry, along with her crop top and bra. “She hasn’t had good dick in a while, you see.” She grabs your phone and makes you unlock it, tapping furiously at the screen for a few seconds before handing it back to you. “I just saved her number so you won’t get spooked when she messages you for her dick appointment. Don’t worry, I’ll keep my mouth shut about you and Minji.” It’s a great thing that you’re already fully clothed because she’s dragging you by your arms and out of her dorm. “Ok, see you! I’ll keep in touch with you again.” You don’t dare to ask any questions at this point so you decide to walk back to Minji’s room again. 

“Wait!” But she stops you on your tracks, this time that shy and nervous expression making its appearance on her face once more. “And uh, I forgot something.” She grabs your phone again and taps on the screen furiously like she did earlier, and as you were about to take it back from her she grabs you forcefully and places a kiss on your lips.

Smooch.

“I also added my number. Maybe I’ll ask Minji if we can share you in more ways than one.” Then a wink, then you feel a gust of wind hitting your face after she closes the door.

What the fuck?  

[iamred-iamyellow]

Aussie Athletes

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!sargeant!ballerina!reader

♥ smau 

♥ fluff

♥ notes: I said I'd write some ballet fics so here's one lol. I'm going to write some ship fic ballet au's (drivers as ballet dancers) after I finish my folklore and Romeo and Juliet series'. Also! I'm performing a don quixote variation this weekend so wish me luck lol :) (none of the pictures are mine)

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First Day @ ausballet

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logansargeant congrats sis

yourusername <3

user14 she's in Australia now 🫢

user3 PLEASE let that mean she'll be at more races now

yourusername 👀

user5 💗💗💗

oscarpiastri welcome to Australia

landonorris trying to get a date on main?

logansargeant don't even think about it piastri

oscarpiastri ???

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

2023 British GP

You walked into the paddock bright and early to find your brother before he was busy with qualifying. You ended up running into a different, yet familiar face instead. 

“Oh, hey Oscar,” you smiled 

“Didn’t expect you to be here with your new Australian ballet career,” he smirked and took a sip of the water he had in his hand. “You don’t have a busy schedule? 

“I do, but the season wrapped last month. I figured I’d come down here and support Logan, you know? I’ve got a lot of training to do when I get back, though.” you laughed softly. 

Oscar hummed in an understanding response. 

“How’s it been there?” 

“Good,” you paused. “Tough, too.” 

“I’m sure it is. It’s an art and a sport.” 

“People don't really consider what I do “a sport”.”

“They say the same about racing.” 

“I guess we have something to bond over.”  you smiled.

You both heard Lando call Oscar's name, gesturing for him to go to their garage. Oscar gave an awkward, blush-filled goodbye and ran towards the Brit on the other side of the pit lane.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 340,967 more

he says I'm so american

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lilymhe top golf double date

yourusername we are so there

user7 WHO IS HE

user9 y/n x oscar crumbs

user2 crying and writing fics

logansargeant 😐

yourusername ...

user6 @ landonorris please tell us she's with oscar

user8 why would lando know?

landonorris 🤐

user8 @ user6 I'm sorry I wasn't familiar with your game, clearly Lando does know

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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opening night 🧡

logansargeant you did amazing 💐

user2 the orange heart...

user5 NOT a coincidence

user8 AND it's f1's winter break meaning Oscar is back home in Australia where it just so happens y/n dances at

user4 the pieces of the puzzle are finally coming together

ausballet our sugar plum fairy

yourusername <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Time Skip - 2024

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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MONACO <3

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charlesleclerc welcome to the piastri-leclerc family

yourusername I'm honored, thank you charles

oscarpiastri so when should she meet my brother leo?

user6 Y/N'S APART OF THE JOKE NOW 😭

user10 someone go get Nicole

user4 y/n l/n-piastri-leclerc

logansargeant don't break her heart

oscarpiastri I won't I swear

[freyadragonlord]

Stolas and Blitz’s relationship is a really well written misunderstanding plot, and here’s why 

I didn’t exactly have bad expectations about the Full Moon episode, yet I find myself pleasantly surprised by just how well the show handled the final confrontation between Stolas and Blitz. It was perfectly tragic and, most importantly, it perfectly fits how their relationship was built up to this point.

But how did Stolas get to this point?

Stolas has been starved for love since he was a child. His father only knew how to buy Stolas’ stuff to distract him from his distress (whenever Paimon bothered to even be around). Stolas’ wife – whom he did not choose – disdained him and did not miss a chance to humiliate him. He used to have a good relationship with his daughter, even though things got more complicated as she grew up and started to realize that her parents hate each other; but having your own child love you isn’t the same as having someone love you because you are you.

And then, out of nowhere, This Guy whom he considers his first friend - someone who was at the center of one of the best memories from his childhood - sneaks into his house and tries to seduce him!! Needless to say, Stolas is taken by surprise!

He even tries to talk to Blitz at first, and asks him about his life. He wants a connection, but Blitz just kinda pushes Stolas on his bed and starts doing sexy things to him, while dodging his questions. And, well, Stolas has never had good sex before that moment! His only experience is with a woman who does not like him and whom he doesn’t like. He gets swept away! Turns out, kinky sex really does it for him, and Blitz just Keeps Going all night!

Now, we don’t get to see how Stolas reacted when he figured out that Blitz was there to steal his book. The next thing we know (which is actually the first time the audience is introduced to Stolas) is that he is determined not to let that night with Blitz be the last. And who knows, even if Blitz had an ulterior motive for that first night, Stolas could still have a chance to seduce him! But how to do that? Well, the only thing Stolas knows about Blitz is that he really seemed to be into kinky sex and dirty talk…. So, Stolas goes for that!

After a while, though, he realizes it isn’t working. Plus, as much as the sex is good, what he really wants from Blitz is romance! So, he tries changing his approach, he introduces the idea of dates, of staying at home without fucking… But every time Stolas tries to change things, Blitz is resistant.

Stolas has many flaws. He is unaware of his privilege, he can be entitled, too self-centered… but one thing he is not, at least, is clueless about his own feelings. Stolas knows he loves Blitz, he knows he wants them to be together, and so he spends a long time trying to figure out how to confess, how to convince Blitz that his feelings are sincere…

In a way, it’s all that planning that dooms him. He spends so much time thinking things over, finding the perfect words, the perfect selfless act to confess to Blitz and set him free, that he does not realize that his confession will come out of nowhere for Blitz. And that Blitz will not have had hours and hours to rehearse his own reaction!

To be fair to him, Blitz truly is spectacularly clueless – to the level that it’s difficult to understand, without knowing his history - when it comes to his own feelings…

Right, how did Blitz get to this point?

The first time Blitz met Stolas, as a child, Blitz’s father had literally sold him as entertainment, and then ordered Blitz to steal from Stolas' house. “Go make yourself useful for once.” “It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve.”

Blitz grows up in an environment where his own father prefers another child to him. His only worth to his dad is to be a trading card, and to be an instrument to get rich.

Blitz doesn’t grow completely without love, tho! He knows what it is like to be loved. He has a best friend, his twin sister, his mother… And then he manages to lose all three of them in one single, spectacular accident. And it was an accident! But it was also his fault. And that’s the night Blitz learns that nobody can love him for long, because he does not deserve it. Even if someone did care for him, eventually they will realize he is worthless and dangerous.

Blitz hates himself.

Still, he does what he has to do to survive, and he goes on.

Years pass, and Blitz is trying to achieve his oldest dream, the dream to be his own boss, to lead a successful business, to prove that he can do something right. He needs Stolas’ book to achieve his dream, so what? It’s what those rich privileged fuckers deserve. He can make himself useful for once.

Does Blitz understand that it’s not Stolas himself who bought him all those years ago, but rather his father? It doesn’t really matter in the end, the only thing that’s important is that he knows that if he distracts Stolas enough, it’s not that hard to steal from him. If he sells himself, he can get anything out of Stolas.

The sex an accident, in the end. Stolas suggests Blitz is there to seduce him (Stolas is joking, but Blitz doesn't realize that), so Blitz goes for that. He bites Stolas’ neck to distract him from the theft, and Stolas reacts to that! Blitz can use this! He just happens to encourage Stolas when Stolas talks dirty to him, he doesn’t know he’s the one planting the idea in Stolas’ brain.

And Blitz could leave Stolas tied up and flee with the book, but at the end he feels bad. He decides to fuck Stolas after all, and well… That wasn’t so bad. He was supposed to do it “real fast”, but ends up spending the whole night!

Still, what if the sex was good? Stolas is still an entitled and powerful prince. And Stolas’ behavior in the following months only confirms that the other demon is just using him! And when Stolas’ actions start to change, well, surely that’s just some new kink, some new game…

Blitz constantly confirms his own biases, and he is incapable of seeing beyond them. He expects to be used because he has been used so many times, ever since he was a child. He doesn’t expect to be loved, because he doesn’t believe anyone can love him.

And if he starts to enjoy the time he spends with Stolas, at least sometimes, well….. That’s just the good sex. Plus, he feels powerful, when he’s fucking Stolas. Not only because Blitz dominates him in bed, but also because this is an arrangement he entered of his own free will, and he’s the one directly benefiting from it.

And! Isn’t it easier this way??? Relationships are messy! This arrangement, tho, no feelings involved, at all! He can push Stolas around as much as he wants, and Stolas will let him.

(Stolas cannot get hurt, after all.)

(He can get hurt??)

Blitz has many flaws. Being clueless about his feelings, and other people’s feelings, is maybe his biggest flaw. Stolas’ confession comes out of nowhere from him. He is confused. Nobody can love him, so it is a game, right?

It’s not a game. Where did this “confession” come from? He’s mad now. Stolas broke the rules, Stolas is using him again, somehow, Stolas… Stolas is crying.

It’s not a trick.

Their whole relationship has been a huge misunderstanding since day 1, and Blitz only just realized.

And Stolas sent Blitz away before he had time to realize, as well.

[rynwritesreid]

Rock my way| Spencer Reid

A/N: If any of you have good angst smut requests please send them over, of course only if you want too. I am getting through all the over requests. Love you guys

Summary: Maybe it’s fate, pure luck or just a simple coincidence. But after 10 years Spencer finds himself in the same city as you.

Content/warnings: Fluff. Smut. Fem!reader. 18+. Soft dom!Reid. Sub!reader. Munch!Reid. Oral (f!receiving). P in V. No mentions of contraception. Pet names (baby. Good girl. Sweet girl. Etc…) overstimulation.

Masterlist| requests are open| navigation

After a rather messy breakup, you found yourself eating alone at one of your favourite restaurants, which wasn’t unusual for you as you had really started to enjoy your own company. Once you had placed your order, you went back to people watching making up all different kinds of scenarios for everyone you laid your eyes upon.

As you moved on to a table that had five, very serious looking people sat around it, a familiar face caught your gaze. It had been roughly ten years since you saw that face, but it’s definitely Spencer Reid.

As you stared at Spencer Reid, trying to comprehend his presence, wanting to know what he was doing here, he suddenly looked up from his menu and met your gaze. You quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t recognised you, because you had never really gotten over him.

A few moments passed before you dared to glance back at Spencer Reid. To your surprise, he was now standing up from his table and making his way over to where you were sitting. 

"Hey," Spencer said, standing awkwardly in front of your table. "I can't believe it's you. How long has it been?" His voice was warm and familiar, and until this moment you had realised how much you had missed it.

"It's been too long, Spencer," you replied softly. "What are you doing here?"

Spencer pulled out a chair and sat down next to you, still wearing his signature cardigan. "I'm in town for a case," he explained. "But seeing you here is a pleasant surprise."

A waiter approached the table, and Spencer quickly ordered a coffee before turning his attention back to you. "I never thought I'd run into you like this," he admitted, his eyes searching yours.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you again, Spencer.” You admitted in a whispered tone, your heart racing at the unexpected reunion. Spencer's gaze softened, and for a moment, it felt like no time had passed between the two of you.

"I've often wondered how you've been," Spencer confessed, his words tinged with emotion. "I never forgot about you."

“I never forgot about you, and if I am being honest with you, I have never stopped loving you.” you paused, the weight of your confession hanging in the air between you and Spencer. His eyes widened slightly, his expression a mix of surprise and longing. The background noise of the restaurant faded away as you waited for his response, unsure of what to expect after all this time.

Spencer reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against yours on the table. "I never stopped loving you either," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "Meeting you here feels like fate giving us a second chance."

“Dr Spencer Reid is actually saying something is fate?” you let out a small giggle. Spencer chuckled, the sound bringing back a flood of memories. "Well, maybe not fate, but definitely a lucky coincidence," he replied with a smile.

“I’ve got to get back to my team, but he’s my hotel name, and my room number. If you’re free later, let me know, my number is still the same.” Spencer's voice was soft as he handed you a piece of paper with the details scribbled on it.

"Thank you, Spencer," you said, tucking the paper into your pocket. "I'll definitely get in touch."

*

You had messaged Spencer that you were free all evening, and that if he still wanted you were down to come to his hotel room.

As you nervously knocked on Spencer’s hotel room door, your heart raced with anticipation. The door slowly opened, revealing Spencer standing there with a small smile on his face.

“Pretty nice hotel room you’ve got here, Spencer.” You observed, trying to mask your nerves. The room was dimly lit, casting a soft glow over his features as he closed the door behind you.

"Thank you," Spencer replied, his gaze never leaving yours. "I wasn't sure if you would actually come." His vulnerability surprised you, reminding you of the depth of the connection you both shared.

"I couldn't stay away," you admitted, taking a step closer to him. “How long are you going to be here?” you asked, trying to avoid kissing the man you knew your heart belonged too. 

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I guess until the case I am working on is finished.” Spencer smiled warmly at you; his eyes filled with affection.

And even if you wanted to, you couldn’t hold of the inevitable anymore, you were giving in to temptation and kissing him. Spencer's lips met yours in a rush of emotion and longing, the years apart melting away in that single moment.

Breaking away slightly, you looked into his eyes, seeing a mixture of desire and adoration reflected back at you. "I've missed this," Spencer whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"I've missed you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"I've missed you too," Spencer said, his voice filled with sincerity, as he gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

Just like you, Spencer hadn’t realised how much he had missed you until he had seen you again, and heard you voice again after all these years. You were his first proper submissive, and he had, just like you, always loved you. 

With a sense of urgency, Spencer pulled you closer to him, his hand caressing your back, tracing the zipper on your dress. He had missed this; he had missed you. He had missed how reactive you were to his touch, how you looked at him, how you felt around him.

Just like second nature, his hand pulled down the zipper, allowing your dress to fall to the floor, and allowing him to see your body. Spencer took a step back, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. A small gasp escaped his lips as he took in the lace lingerie you were wearing. "You're even more beautiful than I remember," he said, his voice hoarse with desire.

You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you didn't look away from him. Instead, you reached behind you and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the ground. Spencer's gaze darkened as he took in the sight of your bare breasts.

He stepped closer to you again, his hand reaching out to cup one of your breasts gently. A soft moan escaped your lips as he began to caress your nipple with his thumb. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your neck. 

“I want to taste you,” he breathed against your skin.

"Yes, please," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. Spencer's lips found yours once again, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passion that took your breath away. His free hand slid down your body, tracing the curve of your waist before settling on the waistband of your lace panties.

“Now are you the good girl I remember?” he asked with a devilish smirk.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence, all you could think about was him, his mouth, the way he use to take his time with you.

“That’s good to hear,” he paused, he just couldn’t get enough of you, “now be a good girl, take your panties off and lay on the bed with your legs wide open.”

Spencer watched as you obeyed his command, your movements slow and sultry. As you lay on the bed, your legs spread wide, his heart raced at the sight before him. He wanted to explore every inch of you, to make up for all the time they haven't spent together.

With a hunger in his eyes, he walked towards you, his hands itching to touch you. As he reached the bed, he knelt down between your legs, his fingertips lightly tracing the curve of your hip. You shivered slightly, the anticipation of his touch making your skin tingle.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire, and said softly, "I've missed this, I've missed you." And then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against your skin as he began to explore every inch of you.

You moaned softly, your breath catching in your throat as his mouth moved lower, his tongue darting out to taste you. Your hips bucked slightly, a silent plea for more, and he answered by sliding a finger inside you, pumping it slowly as his mouth continued to explore.

The sensation was overwhelming, the sheer intensity of it all making your head spin. You arched your back, your hands clutching at the sheets as you felt the first waves of pleasure wash over you.

He slipped another finger inside you, stretching you slowly, his fingers moving in and out with a dedicated, rhythmic precision.

You were lost in the moment, your heart racing, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The pleasure building inside you was almost too much to bear, but Spencer's lips and fingers kept you on the edge.

As you neared the point of no return, Spencer increased the pace, his fingers thrusting deeper into you, and his mouth working its magic. Your body shivered, trembled, and then, without warning, you exploded, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave.

Your screams filled the room, your body bucking wildly as the waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and spent.

You must have been unaware that Spencer had moved, and the fact he had gotten undressed. As you lay there, panting and still coming down from the incredible high of your orgasm, you felt a gentle hand tenderly caressing your cheek. You opened your eyes to find Spencer standing over you, his gaze locked on yours.

"You taste incredible," Spencer whispered. 

He slowly climbed over your body, positioning himself between your legs.

“Spencer, I… I don’t think I can take anymore.” You said in a hushed tone.

“You can take it; you’ve done it before.” Spencer replied with a smirk.

He began to guide himself inside you, slowly at first, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You moaned softly, your hips bucking slightly in response to his touch.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good around me, fucking made for me.” Spencer gasped, his breath hitching as he pushed deeper inside you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your nails digging into his back, urging him to move faster.

“Fuck me, Spencer. Fuck me hard.” You moaned, your voice filled with need and desire.

Spencer obliged, his thrusts becoming faster and harder, his hips pounding against you. You moaned with every thrust, your body writhing beneath his, your nails digging into his back, leaving trails of red marks.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "You're mine now, always have been. I've waited too long for this."

And with that, he thrust deeper, his hips moving in a rhythm that set your soul on fire. You felt him hit your sweet spot, “cum for me, you’ve done so well, my sweet girl, cum for me.”

You didn't know if you could take it anymore, but there was something about the way he looked at you, the way he talked to you, that made you want to give him everything. You felt his cock throb inside you, and your want for him grew stronger.

You arched your back, your nails digging into his back, your moans growing more pronounced. The sensation was overwhelming, every thrust deeper, harder, driving you to the edge.

“Spencer!” you gasped, your eyes locked on his, your voice breaking, your orgasm building.

He increased the pace, his hips pounding harder, his dick thrusting deeper with each movement. The pleasure washed over you like a tidal wave, your entire being shaking with the intensity of it all.

“Yes, that’s it, my perfect girl,” he groaned, his voice rough with desire.

As you reached the peak of your orgasm, you felt him begin to shake, his thrusts becoming erratic, his breaths ragged and hoarse.

You felt him tense, his entire body shuddering as he released inside you, filling you completely. He stopped moving, his body collapsed on top of you, his forehead resting against yours.

You stayed like that for a moment, both of you panting heavily, the aftermath of the intense fuck leaving you both breathless and spent.

"I've missed you so much," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, your heart swelling with love and happiness, knowing that this was just the beginning of something even more incredible than before.

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[winterarmyy]

He Hates Me, Doesn't He?

A series of random Bucky Drabbles that I can't let go but don't have the brain to make the whole complete plot of.

Summary: You hurt Bucky's girl, and now he hates you.

Pairing: tfatws!bucky x female!reader

Words: 6.7k++

Warnings: angstyyyyyyyyy, but with happy ending because I cannot live in agony. miscommunication galore. 'I want to strangle bucky's girlfriend.' soft reader, cold/mean bucky. bucky should've grovel more. horrible attempt of writing verbal arguments. nothing much but pain.

Inspiration: I remember reading a bucky fic years ago and I like the pain that it caused me to feel. Idk why the pain suddenly came back to me lately. So, this is my take on the same idea. I haven't able to find it. But when I do, I'll reblog it in my another acc!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

y/n had always been a steady presence in the Avengers, known for her gentle demeanour and unwavering support. Her relationship with Bucky Barnes had blossomed from a quiet friendship into something deeper. When they first met, Bucky was reserved and hesitant, still grappling with his past as the Winter Soldier. y/n, with her gentle nature and patient understanding, slowly helped him come out of his shell.

She remembered the sleepless nights they spent together when they were on the run with Steve and Sam. They'd share stories, and sometimes just sit in silence, her quiet company offering solace to Bucky's restless mind. The unspoken bond growing stronger with each passing day. Bucky looked up to her, finding comfort in her presence, and in turn, he became fiercely protective of her. They'd watch each other's backs during missions, their synergy on the battlefield a testament to their deep connection. 

And somewhere along the line, she fell for him. She had fallen for Bucky's resilience and vulnerability, though she never expected more, knowing that a relationship was not what he needed right now. At least, that's what she thought. Little did she know, Bucky had always loved her; ever since the day she offered him tea the first night they were on the run to Wakanda. Maybe she was just simply aloof, or maybe Bucky’s flirting skills weren’t translated the way he wanted, but they never crossed the line between friendship and ‘something more’.

Then when Jen came into the picture, it felt like things started to change. Jen was bold and confident, and it wasn't long before she caught Bucky's eye. Their relationship seemed to spring up overnight, and y/n, though hurt, tried to be happy for Bucky. Jen was supportive and caring, or so it seemed, and Bucky deserved happiness.

Now, as planned the team was instructed to moved into the Avenger compound for a few months to train new recruits. It had only been the first month but surely it was jam packed with endless of rigorous training sessions. The original team—y/n, Sam, Bucky, Jen, Clint, and his mentee Kate Bishop—were all assigned to train the new recruits, with additional of few agents from different branches coming in to help out.

y/n was heading to the training room; she knew it was way too early but she thought that if she didn’t get out of bed now, she might not even get up at all. To her surprise, she was not the first one. She saw a few new trainees were already on the way to the training room; some of them greeted her a good morning. She simply smiled at their enthusiasm. 

The moment she entered the area, she overheard voices coming from the corner of the room. She paused, recognizing Jen's voice, which was raised and laced with contempt. Curiosity piqued, y/n stepped closer, staying just out of sight behind the white board. In hindsight, it might seem weird that she was sneaking around to eavesdrop on Jen, but she couldn't help it.

Initially, y/n liked Jen. She tried to welcome her into their tight-knit group and even supported her relationship with Bucky. However, as time went on, Jen began acting strange. The things she said about Bucky sometimes sounded condescending. She would make comments like, "It's amazing how well he's adjusted, considering his past," or, "It's great that he's trying so hard to be normal." The way she acted often differed from her words, with Jen giving Bucky disapproving glances or sighing heavily whenever he mentioned something from his troubled past.

She had noticed these discrepancies and started to feel uneasy around Jen. She couldn't shake the feeling that Jen’s support was just a facade. Now, standing behind the whiteboard, she strained to hear the conversation.

"…and honestly, I don’t understand how anyone can trust him," Jen was saying. "I mean, sure, he's got that whole 'reformed hero' thing going on now, but let’s be real. He was Hydra’s pet assassin for decades. The things he’s done? It’s unforgivable."

Her friend, another agent from a different branch, nodded hesitantly. "But you’re dating him, aren’t you? Doesn’t that mean you trust him?"

Jen laughed, a cold, humourless sound. "Dating him? Please. I’m in it for the fame and the perks. Have you seen the way people look at us? Besides, he’s hot, I’ll give him that. But trust him? Never. People like him don’t change. They’re broken. He's a monster, and he always will be. It’s only a matter of time before he snaps again."

y/n felt a surge of anger rise within her. How dare Jen talk about Bucky like that? 

Memories flooded her mind, flashing back to Bucky’s nightmare-plagued nights. She remembered the prominent dark circles under his eyes, the haunted look that never quite left his face. The silent pain he endured, adjusting to a modern world where he felt like an outsider, magnified when Steve left. She could still see the wary, suspicious glances people cast in his direction, the whispers behind his back when they first ventured out. Before the fame he acquired as he regained his reputation after the Flag-Smasher incident.

She had witnessed his hardships firsthand—the nightmares that woke him in a cold sweat, the moments of crippling doubt and self-loathing. But she had also seen his triumphs, the small victories that slowly built his confidence. The first time he laughed freely in her presence, the genuine smile that lit up his face when he finally allowed himself to relax. She cherished those moments, the sunshine that broke through the clouds of his tortured past.

All of this came rushing back, breaking the chains on the Pandora's box inside of her. The fury she felt wasn't just for the disrespect to Bucky; it was for every ounce of pain he had suffered, every moment of joy he had fought so hard to reclaim. Her eyes hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. "Take that back," she demanded, her presence startling both Jen and her friend.

Jen turned slowly, a smirk spreading across her face as she saw y/n. She knew from the beginning about the cute little crush y/n had on Bucky. To be frank, everybody sort of knew about it, except for Bucky somehow. 

"Or else what, y/n?" she replied with a mocking tone. "You’re quite pathetic aren’t you? You think that I can’t see how you’ve been eye-fucking my boyfriend all this time? Come on, now. Backing him up would not give you a leeway into his pants, y/n."

y/n’s face went through a range of emotions—shock, embarrassment, and then seething anger. Jen’s words were like poison, each one landing like a punch to the gut.

Jen continued, confidence oozing out of her cocky demeanor, "Besides, we all know that I can easily beat you in a fight, doll" 

The use of doll—a nickname Bucky had given y/n from day one, when Steve had quite literally kidnapped Bucky from the government—made y/n blood boil. Hearing it from Jen felt like a personal attack, a deliberate attempt to undermine everything she shared with Bucky.

And it was true that Jen had graduated top of her batch from the Avengers program and had countless successful missions under her belt, but y/n knew this wasn't about accolades or abilities. This was about something deeper, something more personal.

y/n clenched her fists, taking a step closer. "You think this is about who can fight better?" she said, her voice shaking with restrained fury. "This is about respect. You don’t get to talk about Bucky like that."

Jen scoffed, a cruel smile on her lips. "Respect? For that monster? You’re delusional. He’s a ticking time bomb, a liability to the team. And deep down, everyone knows it."

y/n’s patience snapped. In one swift motion, she slapped Jen hard across the face, the sound echoing through the room. Jen stumbled and fell to the ground, shock and anger flashing across her features.

She stalks forward like a predator cornering its prey, "I’m just done with your lies and your insults. Bucky deserves better than you." Jen instinctively crawled backwards towards the centre of the room. Seeing that she got the attention of the few new recruits she regained her composure, smirked again, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "You’re pathetic, y/n," she taunted. "Defending a lost cause." her voice was loud enough for y/n to hear but quiet enough that the others might not be able to decipher her words.

At that moment, Bucky and Sam burst into the room, followed closely behind by a new recruit who alerted them of the incident. Bucky’s eyes widened as he took in the scene—Jen on the ground, y/n standing over her, shaking with rage. "What’s going on here?" His demand was completely ignored as y/n’s mind was hyper-focused on the wrath bubbling within her. 

"Get up," y/n demanded, her voice shaking with wrath. Bucky’s momentarily froze as he watched the confrontation escalate before him. y/n, usually so composed, was now a whirlwind of rage, her eyes blazing as she stood over a trembling Jen. Bucky had always known her to be fierce in battle, but this was different—this was raw, unbridled anger. "I'm going to make you regret every word you said. So get on your fucking feet before I rip it off you.." 

Jen, still on the ground, looked up at y/n with wide, teary eyes, playing the role of the victim to perfection. "Please, I didn't– I don’t know what you're…," she whimpered, casting a fearful glance at Bucky and Sam, who had just arrived on the scene.

Bucky's mind raced. Why was she doing this? He stepped forward, trying to diffuse the situation. "y/n, hey!" he shouted, his voice a mix of confusion and anger. "What are you doing?"

Completely ignoring him, "Get up," y/n snarled, her eyes blazing with intensity. "Get up and fight me. I’ll show you who the real monster is." Jen looked up, her hand on her cheek, disbelief mingling with her fury. "You’re crazy," she spat, scrambling to her feet.

Her response was only a furious shout. "I said, get up!"

"y/n, are you crazy?!" Bucky yelled, moving quickly to intervene. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and unforgiving.

She turned her fierce gaze towards Bucky; her expression momentarily faltering at the hurt in his eyes. "Bucky, you don’t understand, she--" she began, but the words caught in her throat as she saw Jen's smirk flicker for just a second.

"There's nothing to understand," Bucky snapped. "You’re acting insane."

y/n looked at him, her eyes filled with hurt and frustration. "Bucky, you have to listen—"

But he cut her off, his expression hard. "I don’t care! You hurt her, y/n. You think I don’t see that bruise on her cheek?!" Bucky shouted, his face contorted with anger. His eyes, usually filled with a gentle warmth when he looked at y/n, were now blazing with fury. "This isn’t like you, y/n. I’ve noticed that you’ve never liked Jen, and I don’t know why. But this? This is just immature and reckless." His metal grip on y/n's wrist was tighter than he intended. She winced, her eyes watering not just from the pain but from the sting of his words. 

y/n had never seen Bucky like this. His anger was palpable, radiating off him in waves. It was like being hit with a physical force, and she felt her heart breaking under the weight of it. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away, her anger flaring even hotter. "Bucky, you don’t understand," she tried to explain, but the words caught in her throat.

Bucky’s expression remained hard, the force on her wrist tightening painfully. "You need to grow up, y/n," he seethed, his disappointment evident in his tone. "You're always causing drama lately, and it needs to stop. Jen’s been there for me in ways you haven’t, and I won’t tolerate you attacking her like this."

The words cut through her like a knife. Her heart shattered at his harshness, at the realization that Bucky thought so little of her. She yanked her wrist free, feeling the sting of his grip lingering. "Fine," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Believe what you want."

Without another word, she turned and stormed out, leaving Bucky standing there, torn between confusion and guilt.

A gnawing sense of remorse tugging at him, but he couldn't shake the confusion and anger clouding his mind. "Jen, are you okay?" he asked, helping her to her feet.

Jen, tucking herself to his side, managed to summon a few tears, looking up at Bucky with a feigned innocence. "I don’t know why she hates me so much," she murmured, playing her part perfectly.

Bucky fingers softly traces on her wounded cheek before his gaze switched to y/n’s retreating form, a knot tightening in his chest. He wasn’t sure why those mean words had spouted out of his lips. Was it because he saw Jen injured on the ground and his protective instincts kicked in? Or was it because Jen had been whispering doubts in his ear about y/n’s loyalty, making him question his longtime friend? 

The truth was, Bucky had always relied on y/n’s unwavering support. She had been his rock through the toughest times, and seeing her so furious, so hurt, shook him to his core. Yet, in the heat of the moment, he had lashed out, unable to reconcile the image of Jen crying with the fierce anger that radiated from y/n.

As Bucky comforted Jen, his mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't shake the image of hurt on her face, nor could he ignore the nagging feeling that he was missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

On the side, Sam was only able to watch the scene play out silently, a frown creasing his brow. He had a feeling there was more to this story, and he intended to get to the bottom of it.

As weeks passed, the rift between Bucky and y/n deepened, fueled by Jen's cunning manipulation. In a private conversation, Jen planted seeds of doubt in Bucky's mind, suggesting that y/n harboured hidden resentments and intentions.

"I hate to say it, Bucky, but maybe she's not who we thought she was," Jen insinuated, her voice dripping with false concern. "Maybe she's been hiding her true feelings all along, waiting for the right moment to strike." 

Bucky, already vulnerable and confused after the incident in the training room, absorbed Jen's words like poison, allowing them to fester and take root in his mind. He began to view y/n through a new lens, one tainted by suspicion and distrust. This single conversation, filled with subtle manipulations and insidious suggestions, was all it took to fracture the bond between Bucky and y/n, leaving Bucky cold and distant towards the one person who had always stood by his side.

Most days he would avoid eye contact with her during team meetings, barely acknowledging her presence when they were forced to interact. In training sessions, his instructions to her were curt and clipped, lacking the warmth and camaraderie they once shared. y/n felt each of these interactions like a stab to the heart.

She couldn't understand how quickly Bucky had turned against her, how easily he had accepted Jen's version of events without even giving her a chance to explain. The hurt festered inside her, eating away at her sense of self-worth.

Then one night, as y/n sat alone on the rooftop, staring out into the darkness, Sam found her there. He knew this was where she retreated when she needed space to think, to process her emotions. He approached her cautiously, sitting down beside her without a word.

"Why aren't you at dinner, y/n?" Sam finally asked, breaking the silence. He could see the emptiness in her eyes, the weight of her sorrow pressing down on her.

She shook her head, her voice hollow. "Lost my appetite," she muttered, her gaze still fixed on the horizon.

Sam gently prodded, knowing there was more to her withdrawal than just a lack of hunger. "Is it because of what happened the other day at the training room?" he asked softly.

Instantly, her demeanor shifted. Anger flared in her eyes, directed not just at Jen and Bucky, but at the entire situation. "I don't want to talk about it, Sam," she snapped, her frustration bubbling to the surface. But Sam wasn't one to give up easily, especially when he knew how much y/n was hurting. "Come on, y/n," he urged, his voice gentle but insistent. "You can't keep bottling this up. Talk to me."

Her expression softened slightly at Sam's persistence, but the pain still lingered in her eyes. "Seriously, Sam, please just drop it," she pleaded, her voice wavering with emotion.

Sam could see the cracks forming in her facade, the vulnerability seeping through the tough exterior she usually projected. Without a word, he pulled her into a comforting embrace, letting her bury her face against his shoulder.

As she clung to him, her facade finally crumbled. Her lips trembled, her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me, doesn't he?" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbreak. "Bucky hates me."

Sam held her tighter, offering silent comfort as she grappled with the weight of her sorrow. He knew there were no easy answers, no quick fixes to mend the shattered pieces of y/n's heart. But in that moment, all he could do was be there for her, a steady anchor in the storm of her emotions.

The dim glow of the kitchen's overhead light provided a faint sense of solace in the otherwise silent darkness of the compound. Bucky sat at the wooden table, his tired eyes staring blankly at the cup of untouched tea before him. It was a nightly ritual lately, this dance with sleeplessness and the haunting memories that lurked in the shadows of his mind yet again.

Footsteps broke the stillness, and Bucky's gaze shifted to the entrance of the kitchen. y/n stood hesitantly in the doorway, her presence casting a tentative aura over the room. There was a palpable tension between them, an unspoken weight that hung heavy in the air.

She cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. "Mind if I join you?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She was expecting Bucky to ignore her completely but he didn’t; Bucky simply shrugged nonchalantly, his guard seemed to flatter. "Suit yourself," he muttered.

As she quietly took a seat opposite him, a heavy silence settled between them. Bucky's thoughts churned with a whirlwind of emotions, each one vying for dominance over the others. His guard seemed to falter in the presence of her tentative yet comforting aura. The weight of his own vulnerability loomed large in his mind, drowning out the anger he had harboured towards her.

As the silence stretched between them, she felt a surge of compassion wash over her. She knew why he was awake at this time. She knew that the tea he brewed was to help him sleep. She was the one who planted that habit to him after all.

And despite everything that had transpired between them, she couldn't bear to see Bucky suffer alone. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she decided to reach out to him, to offer what little comfort she could.

Without a word, y/n rose from her seat and moved to stand behind Bucky's chair. He stiffened at her touch, his muscles tense with apprehension. But as her gentle hands began to massage the tension from his neck, a wave of unexpected relief washed over him.

Her touch was soft and comforting, a stark contrast to the coldness he had grown accustomed to due to Jen’s unwillingness to acknowledge this side of him. She ran her fingers through his hair, coaxing him to relax, to let go of the burdens that weighed heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, Bucky allowed himself to forget the walls he had built around his heart. In her presence, her voice, and her touch; he felt a glimmer of hope, a flicker of warmth that he had long since forgotten.

But then, like a sudden gust of wind extinguishing a fragile flame, the weight of Jen's words came crashing back down upon him. Anger flared within him, hot and fierce, directed not only at y/n but at himself for allowing his heart to yearn for her.

He pushed himself away from the table, his movements sharp and abrupt. "I don't need your pity, y/n," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "Just leave me alone."

With that, he stormed out of the kitchen, leaving y/n alone in the suffocating silence.The disbelief that clouded her thoughts gave way to a searing agony that twisted in her chest. How could he say such things? How could he push her away so callously, after everything they had shared?

y/n buried her face in her hands, her body trembling with the force of her sobs. The weight of her shattered dreams pressed down on her, crushing her spirit beneath its merciless grip. She had never felt so alone, so utterly abandoned by the one person she had trusted above all others.

The pain of losing Bucky, of losing the love that had sustained her through the darkest of times, threatened to consume her whole. Each breath felt like a struggle, each heartbeat a painful reminder of the emptiness that now filled her soul.

In that moment of crushing despair, she couldn't help but believe that Bucky truly hated her. The thought tore through her like a knife, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that no amount of time or distance could ever hope to heal.

As she sat alone in the suffocating silence of the kitchen, y/n felt the full weight of her heartbreak descend upon her like a tidal wave. She was lost in a sea of pain and sorrow, drowning in the agony of losing someone she had loved so deeply, so completely. And in that moment, she couldn't help but wonder if she would ever find her way back to the surface again.

Unbeknownst to her, Bucky lingered just out of sight, his heart heavy with guilt. He wanted to go back, to take back his harsh words and hold her close, to chase away the tears that stained her cheeks. But the poison in his mind was too strong, clouding his judgement and trapping him in a cycle of self-destructive despair. And so, with a heavy heart, he turned and walked away, leaving y/n to cry alone in the darkness.

The mission had already been tense enough, but as y/n found herself face to face with Jen in a location she wasn't supposed to be, the atmosphere crackled with an added layer of hostility. It was as if fate had conspired to place them in this confrontation, and her jaw clenched involuntarily as she braced herself for what was to come.

Jen's presence in that spot was no coincidence, and she knew it. Her suspicions were confirmed as Jen turned to face her, a smirk playing on her lips, a gleam of malice in her eyes. y/n's grip tightened on her weapon, her pulse quickening as she prepared for the verbal assault she knew was coming.

"How does it feel, knowing that Bucky hates you now?" Jen's words sliced through the air like a knife, each syllable carrying the weight of y/n’s deepest fears. It was a direct hit, striking at the core of her insecurities, and for a moment, she felt as though the ground had been ripped out from beneath her feet.

But she refused to let Jen see her falter. With a steely resolve, she squared her shoulders and met Jen's gaze head-on, her expression a mask of defiance. She may have been shaken by Jen's words, but she refused to let them break her.

Ignoring the taunts, she focused on the mission at hand, determined to prove her worth despite Jen's attempts to undermine her. But with each passing moment, the weight of Jen's words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over y/n’s every move.

It was a battle on two fronts – against the enemy they faced together, and against the doubts that threatened to consume her from within. But she refused to back down, drawing strength from the knowledge that she fought not just for herself, but for the team she believed in with all her heart.

But Jen's relentless barrage of insults made it difficult to concentrate, her words like daggers slicing through y/n’s defenses.

"Aww come on y/n, bet you’re reeling in the loss right now, aren’t you." Jen continued, her voice ice cold. "The Asset’s little lapdog, clinging to him like a lost puppy."

y/n’s temper flared at the insult, her grip tightening on her weapon as she fought to keep her emotions in check. But Jen's mocking laughter only fueled the fire burning within her, pushing her to the brink of her patience. "Shut your mouth, Jen," she growled, her voice low and dangerous. "Or I swear to God, I'll make sure that the team finds your body disassembled in one of these rooms."

Jen simply rolled her eyes, unfazed by her threat. "You love him that much, huh?" y/n had no intention to deny that fact; she does love him, "More than you ever could." her voice was firm and true. Jen’s smirk fell as she scoffed. "Ain't that cute, the Winter Soldier and his little psycho sweetheart."

Before y/n could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife, freezing her in place. It was Bucky, his expression dark and stormy as he stepped into view. "What's going on here?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as he took in the scene before him.

y/n’s heart sank as she realized that Bucky might have heard everything. She turned around to meet his eyes and his face confirmed her suspicion; he heard it.  Bucky had heard everything – every taunt, every insult, every word exchanged between her and Jen; even the confession of her true feelings. She met his gaze; searching for some sign of understanding of his emotions and the little that she saw was: disappointment, betrayal and guilt, mirrored back at her in the depths of his stormy blue eyes. 

In that moment, all she wanted to do was pull him into her arms, to pull him away from all the painful memories and hurtful words; so far away that he would forget he had ever been taunted, betrayed, or made to feel less than he was.

Before she could utter a word, let alone take a step towards him, Jen's voice broke through, but it lacked the usual confidence. "Bucky, it's not what you think," she stammered, her eyes darting nervously between Bucky and y/n. "I-I was just..."

y/n’s clenched her jaw, her patience wearing thin as Jen stumbled over her words, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. She could see the confusion and hurt in Bucky's eyes, a reflection of the turmoil raging within her own heart.

"I-I mean," Jen continued, her voice faltering. "I was...um...just trying to...uh..."

But her feeble attempts to justify her actions only served to further incense Bucky. His brow furrowed in anger, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggled to make sense of the situation.

"Enough," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to hear any more lies."

y/n’s heart ached as she watched Bucky's expression darken with anger and disappointment. She wanted to explain, to tell him the truth about Jen's betrayal and her own misguided attempt to defend him. But the words caught in her throat, choked by the weight of her guilt and regret.

With a heavy sigh, Bucky turned away, his shoulders slumped with defeat. "Let's just finish the mission," he muttered, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "We'll deal with this later."

As he was about to walk away, y/n noticed a red dot on his chest, the unmistakable mark of a sniper's laser sight. Without thinking twice, she leaped towards him, her body acting as a human shield. Time seemed to slow down as she collided with Bucky, pushing him out of the way.

"y/n, no!" Bucky shouted, his voice filled with panic as her body slumped against his chest.

In the chaos, Jen was nowhere to be seen. She had slipped away, taking shelter and ultimately fleeing the area as she heard multiple footsteps approaching.

Bucky tried to pull up his gun, but it was too late. An array of bullets rained down on them. He felt the searing pain of a few shots piercing his own flesh, but it was nothing compared to the sight of y/n’s body being riddled with bullets. She was hit in the shoulder, wrist, thighs, and other places Bucky couldn't even register.

Rage surged through Bucky like an inferno, obliterating any semblance of restraint. He moved with a deadly precision, his eyes blazing with fury as he unleashed a storm of bullets on the enemy. His movements were swift and unforgiving, every shot finding its mark with brutal accuracy. The enemy fell one by one, their bodies collapsing in lifeless heaps. The air was filled with the deafening sound of gunfire and the acrid smell of gunpowder, but Bucky's focus was unyielding.

Within moments, the room was cleared, the enemies wiped out in a flurry of rage-fueled vengeance.

The adrenaline ebbed away, leaving Bucky standing amidst the carnage, his chest heaving. He turned, and his eyes fell on y/n's crumpled form. The sight of her lying in a pool of her own blood shattered his rage, replacing it with a crushing wave of worry and panic.

"Hang in there. Please," Bucky hastily spoke, his voice trembling. He activated his com line, desperation seeping into his tone. "Guys, we need help. y/n... she's... she's been shot. We need to get out of here right now!" Panic coursed through him as he turned his attention back to y/n, frantically trying to stop the bleeding on her stomach. "y/n, doll…please" he pleaded, watching her hazy gaze. "Don't you dare give up on me now. Come on."

"babydoll, stay with me!" Bucky cried, his voice breaking as he cradled her in his arms. Blood soaked through her clothes, staining his hands. "Please, hang on, you can’t leave yet. I haven't told you... I haven't—" 

Her eyes fluttered open, her breathing shallow and ragged. "It's okay, Bucky," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the chaos. "It's okay. Don't cry." Her shaking hands struggled to move, and with great effort, she managed to cup Bucky's cheek. The gesture was weak but filled with tenderness. "It's okay," she repeated, her fingers trembling against his skin.

"Don't talk like that," Bucky choked out, his own tears mingling with the blood on his face. "You can't.. I haven't told you...please doll..." His voice wavered with the weight of unspoken words and unconfessed feelings. He hadn't told her how much he truly cared for her, how every moment spent away from her felt like an eternity. He hadn't begged for forgiveness for his coldness, his mistakes, and for letting Jen's poison taint his actions. The guilt gnawed at him, each heartbeat a reminder of the words he hadn't said, the emotions he hadn't expressed. 

He pressed her hand harder against his cheek, feeling the warmth of her touch anchoring him in the moment.Her hand weakly brushing against his cheek. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured. "I know."

Bucky's heart shattered as he clung to her, feeling her life slipping away. "No, no, no," he muttered desperately. "You can't leave me. Please, y/n. Please."

She smiled faintly, her eyes closing. "I'm here, Bucky. I'm right here."

With a final, shuddering breath, y/n’s consciousness slipped away. Bucky felt a surge of panic, but he knew he had to move. He lifted her limp body, cradling her against his chest as he ran towards the quinjet. Each step was agony, his own injuries slowing him down, but he didn't care. All that mattered was getting y/n to safety.

"Hang on, y/n," he whispered, his voice trembling. "Hang on. I won't let you go."

In the sterile environment of the medical bay, y/n lay unconscious, her body hooked up to various machines that monitored her vital signs. Bucky sat by her bedside, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. Every beep of the monitor seemed to echo through the silence, a haunting reminder of her fragile state. He held her hand, his thumb gently caressing her bandaged wrist.

Memories of their time together flooded Bucky's mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of the connection they shared. He remembered the laughter they had shared, the late-night conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. He remembered the gentle touch of her hand, the warmth of her smile that never failed to chase away the darkness.

But amidst the memories, there was also pain – the pain of their last conversation, the words left unsaid and the choices left unmade. Bucky's throat tightened as he recalled the day he had walked away from Jen, the air thick with tension and unspoken truths.

His voice was cold and final. "You almost got her killed, Jen," he had said, his eyes blazing with anger. "Stay away from us. Stay away from me."

Jen's eyes had flashed with anger, her words cutting like knives as she lashed out in frustration. "And what, you think you'll find someone better than me?" she had spat, her voice dripping with venom. "Good luck with that, Bucky. You'll never find anyone who would put up with your baggage."

But Bucky had remained resolute, his decision fueled by a sense of longing and regret that threatened to consume him whole. "Maybe not," he had admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'd rather be alone than with someone who doesn't truly care about me."

Now, as Bucky sat by y/n’s bedside, the weight of his decision bore down on him like a crushing weight. Tears welled in his eyes as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers trembling with emotion.

"I'm so sorry, babydoll," he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears. "I never meant for any of this to happen. So, please, wake up. I need you."

But y/n remained unconscious, her breathing shallow and weak as she lay before him. And as Bucky watched over her, his heart heavy with worry and regret, he vowed to do whatever it took to bring her back to him, to keep her safe from harm for all eternity.

For in that moment, Bucky realized that he couldn't bear to lose her – not now, not ever. She was his rock, his anchor in a world of uncertainty and pain. And as he held her hand tightly in his own, he prayed with all his heart that she would find her way back to him, to the love and light that had always guided them through the darkness.

The soft hum of machines filled the air as y/n stirred awake, her senses slowly coming back to her. She blinked, disoriented at first, until her gaze fell upon Bucky, who was sleeping soundly in the chair beside her bed. His hands were clasped tightly around hers, his face peaceful in slumber, but she couldn't help but notice the tear stains on his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes, the worry lines etched into his forehead.

"How long has it been since?" she wondered to herself, her heart aching at the sight of Bucky's exhausted form. She carefully sat up, trying not to disturb him as she lovingly examined his sleeping face. She couldn't help but smile as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through her fingertips.

Bucky groaned as his sleep was interrupted, muttering something about Sam needs to leave him be; before he abruptly sat up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hi there," y/n greeted softly, her eyes sparkling with affection as she watched Bucky's reaction.

For a moment, Bucky seemed unable to comprehend that she was finally awake. His eyes widened in disbelief, his mouth slightly agape. But then the realization hit him, and he threw himself at her, wrapping her in a tight embrace as if she were the most precious thing in the world .Despite the pain that shot through her body, she managed to let out a soft chuckle, returning his embrace with equal fervor. The warmth of his embrace chased away the lingering chill of unconsciousness, and for a moment, everything felt right.

"y/n..." Bucky breathed into her neck, his voice trembling with emotion. She hummed in response, her heart swelling for him. "Hmmm?"

Not wanting to let go of her, Bucky called her name once again, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "y/n-..." She paused, her lips curving into a tender smile as she whispered in his ear, "Yes, Bucky?"

Bucky tightened his grip, his breath hitching in his throat as he buried his face in her shoulder. y/n gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "I'm here, sweetheart." The scent of her hair, the feel of her warmth against him—it all felt overwhelming. Emotions churned inside him like a tempest. Relief, guilt, love, and fear battled for dominance, leaving him raw and exposed.

She gently rubbed his back, her touch soothing and comforting as she reassured him, "Bucky, I'm not going anywhere.

Bucky's mind raced, images of the past few weeks flashing before his eyes. He remembered the coldness with which he'd treated her, the cruel words that had slipped from his lips, fueled by Jen's poison. He thought of the sleepless nights, the nightmares that had gripped him, and the aching void he'd felt every time he saw y/n’s hurt expression.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice muffled against her shoulder. "For everything. For not believing you. For pushing you away."

Reluctantly, she pulled away, but not before wiping the tears from Bucky's cheeks and fighting the urge to place a tender kiss on his forehead. As she looked into his eyes, she could see the depth of his love and the pain he had endured for her sake. And in that moment, she knew that she had found her home in his arms. Bucky took her hands in his own, his eyes closed as he pressed a kiss to her wounded wrists. "This will never happen again. Ever," he vowed, his voice filled with determination.

Moved by his words, y/n felt her heart flutter with emotion. She realized in that moment that she could never stay angry at him, no matter what had transpired between them. She understood now that they were both at fault, both victims of circumstance and misunderstanding.

With a surge of courage, she reached out and pulled Bucky into a kiss. Her lips met his in a slow, passionate embrace, pouring all of her love and forgiveness into the tender gesture. It was a moment of connection, of healing, of reaffirming their bond despite the trials they had faced.

The taste of Bucky's lips was like a soothing salve to her soul; it was intoxicating. It felt as if the world had fallen away, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's arms. When they finally broke apart, Bucky whispered those three words that y/n had longed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart soared with joy, and she couldn't help but tease him, "Took you long enough." her teasing words met with a cheeky grin from Bucky.  "I love you too, Bucky" she blinked slowly. As he whispered softly under his breath, "Come here," he pulled her back into the kiss, their lips meeting in a tender embrace that spoke volumes of their unspoken love. And in that moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty of their world, they found solace in each other's arms, knowing that together, they could weather any storm.

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I just needed to let this out lmao. It's been stuck in my head for several weeks. Thank you for spending your time reading this crap... honestly. Love you so much 🤍

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 1

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Chapter Summary: To save money for law school, you accept a job at Maid Discretely; a high end, anonymous cleaning service. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in, more than just your curiosity peaks.  CW: Author chooses not to use warnings in this chapter in order to avoid spoilers. While I never want to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. AN: Oh boy, here we go! I'm in a straight PANIC getting ready to post this. I hope it meets all your expectations, I was not at all expecting that reaction to the teaser post. Love you all and thank you for all your support. Please share or comment, I have a praise kink LOL. Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk and @burntheedges for being my little cheerleaders over this, ily!! Chapter Word Count: 4.4k

You stare down at the very intimidating legal document you have clasped in your clammy hands. There are so many big legal sounding words that seem to be mocking you with their importance. Somehow there are clauses that have sub clauses that are then further broken down into sub-subclauses. It feels heavy to be handed this on a Monday morning. Truthfully, this doesn’t seem like something a soon-to-be twenty-one year old woman who literally just graduated college, albeit a semester early, should be allowed to sign without parents and a lawyer present. 

This is just supposed to be a simple job working part time as a maid for your best friend's family’s cleaning company. A job where she promised easy money and part time hours that you set for yourself. The perfect opportunity for you to be able to save money AND set aside lots of study time for your upcoming LSAT rewrite. You passed it a few months ago and applied to a bunch of law schools, but you aren’t going to waste these next few months waiting around. You know how competitive law schools can be, so you’re preparing to be better just in case you don’t get in.

Your eyes scan words that your brain can’t seem to comprehend. The internal panic starts to bubble in your chest, someone who has law aspirations should know what these words mean.

This is just supposed to be easy. Cleaning. Vacuuming. Washing floors. Simple things. 

But now, as you sit in this shiny, fancy downtown office building looking at your full legal name typed beside a bunch of ‘initial here’ and ‘sign here’ lines on a nondisclosure agreement you’re starting to feel like this is anything but simple. 

“Our clientele is VERY exclusive,” your childhood best friend Jamie says. She looks very professional and grown up sitting behind her glass desk. Her long, toned legs are crossed, the slit along the side of her crisp, white pencil skirt showing off her tanned upper thigh. She’s paired her white skirt with a baby pink silky blouse that's perfectly tucked into the high waist of the skirt. Her long, dark silky hair is twisted into a jeweled claw clip. Even though you’re the same age she has an air of sophistication and grace, even with winged eyeliner, a matte pink lip, and a slender rose gold septum ring that sits tight to her little button nose. She almost screams old Hollywood in the middle of Austin, Texas. 

She continues, “You won’t know the names of the clients and they will never be home. If they do come home, leave immediately, and try your best not to be seen or heard. Then you can fill out in the company app what you did and didn’t manage to get done.” 

You put the paper down on her perfect desk so she can’t see your hands shaking. How can you work at that desk all day and not get a single fingerprint or smudge on it? There’s a very good chance that I am not cut out for this. This is fancy. And expensive. I’m neither of those things. 

“What am I gonna be walking in on at these houses, Jamie?” You ask, swallowing the fiberglass that’s suddenly prickling at your throat. 

Jamie shakes her head and laughs, saying your name through her melodic giggles. “Most likely nothing. We’ve never had an encounter or run in with a client. They pick times for cleaners to come when they aren’t home.” She leans back in her high backed chair and continues, “But the clients are big deals. Politicians. Judges. Athletes. The odd celebrity. They don’t want anyone in their home that will snoop or snap pictures. Hence the NDA.” 

“Well, why didn’t you start with that!” You laugh. “Jesus, I thought I’d be walking into like a virginal sacrifice or some shit!” 

“Well, there was that one time…” Your face drops and she immediately starts laughing again. “I’m kidding. Relax. Look, you’ll probably get three homes a week, each house will take six to eight hours. The hourly pay is twenty dollars plus whatever tip they’ll leave you in these black envelopes.” 

She puts a perfectly polished finger on a stack of black envelopes with a red ‘Maid Discretely’ logo on it and continues, “In my experience, the tips are around five hundred, completely tax free. This is a good gig! You’ll be in law school becoming smarter than all of us in no time. Fuck, you’ll be writing insane contracts like those before we know it.” 

She stands, one hand resting on the desk while the other slides the paper towards you with a closed pen. She drops the writing apparatus on top of it, the metal casing of the pen clanging loudly on her glass desk. You let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically clicking the pen before signing the NDA. Jamie claps her hands excitedly then snatches the contract away before you can rip it up and says, “Let’s get your uniform and supplies!”

She hands you a few fitted white polo style t-shirts, black dress pants, white Keds (that she scolds are for inside the houses only), a caddy full of high end cleaning supplies, a top of the line Dyson vacuum and everything else you’ll need.

She ends your meeting with instructions on how the company's scheduling and tracking app works. "Essentially, you set the days and times you’re available and it will populate for you. You’ll have addresses, dates and times, as well as tasks to be done, all nicely laid out for you. If a client likes you, they can request you for additional shifts, but for continuity purposes you should get the same couple houses that you’ll rotate through throughout the month."

You nod along, mostly surprised to hear the girl who did a keg stand just a few days ago sound so professional, using words like 'continuity purposes'.

The next day you have your first official shift. Tuesday from nine to three and you’re scheduled at a mansion in a neighborhood you’ve never heard of and you most definitely wouldn’t fit in to. Jamie is already waiting there for you when you pull up. She explained yesterday that she’d help you with the first one and then you are on your own after that. Well, not completely alone. Your iPhone is loaded full of smutty audio books, murder podcasts, and law books to listen to as you clean. 

Jamie was right, you think to yourself as you scroll to the latest romance novel you’ve downloaded and grab your AirPods, this is a good gig.

The house is absolutely massive, and you highly doubt you’ll be done in six hours. You gather all your stuff and head up to the house. Jamie shows you where the company supplied key box is and how to open it from the app. As you grab the key Jamie excitedly says, “This used to be my client. He always leaves a huge tip!”

You unlock the large front glass door and enter into a white marble foyer. The windows on the first floor are easily ten feet tall and allow in so much natural light. Gold and obsidian swirls in the marble reflect along the walls, dancing in the sunlight. To the left of the front door is a large open kitchen that might be bigger than your entire apartment. The marble of the expansive countertop is the same colour as the foyer. All the cabinetry is matte black with brushed gold handles. The kitchen opens into a lavish living room, a massive fireplace and TV sits on the far back left wall, encompassed by a very cozy looking white sectional. 

To the right of the front door, starting furthest away from where you stand in awe, is a door to a huge half bathroom, followed by a long table with a bowl for keys and mail, and then the door that leads to the garage. About fifty feet in front of you is a grand staircase that branches out to the left and right. Beyond the staircase you can see into the backyard. This is by far the nicest house you’ve ever been in.

As both you and Jamie slip into your keds she says, “Upstairs to the left are a few bedrooms and the office. I usually started there and then went to the right side where he has a huge entertainment area. Then I would clean down here since he doesn’t cook very often and it’s usually just a quick wipe down.”

Just as you start to panic over how you’re supposed to remember all this she nudges you and adds, “But that’s all in the app for you, most of the clients are very particular so they’ll lay out exactly what order you should be cleaning in, as well as any other extra things they need done.” 

She helps you carry all your stuff upstairs and then watches you work. Sure enough, the app says to start in the office so you do just that. Careful not to disturb the few piles of paperwork you dust the desk and shelves and then wipe down the windows and computer screen. You vacuum the hardwood and plush rug last and after Jamie gives you an approving nod, you move onto the next room.

You continue like that, going from room to room, your friend, and now boss, occasionally giving feedback or leaving to answer a phone call or respond to an email. The job is easy enough; repeating the same steps in each room over and over again. It’s the exact type of work you exceed at. You enjoy having clear sets of instructions and expectations, and a prioritized list where you can start at the top and work down. You’ve always excelled at following meticulous directions in school. Your life maybe not so much. When it comes to dating or your parents you aren’t one to do what you’re told.

When one o’clock rolls around you just have one bathroom upstairs and the already pristine downstairs to tend to, but Jamie coaxes you into taking your break, which is another thing you’re bad at. You were raised not to take breaks, taking a break or doing nothing means you're lazy. You should be working all the time, and pushing yourself to accomplish things. As a child you’d push and push yourself to be the best, honor roll ceremonies were the only time your dad would show up. He’d smile and brag about you to whoever was around.

“It’s important that you take all your supplies to your car with you when you eat your lunch. Never eat in their homes and never park on their driveways.” You nod and hoist all your stuff to the front step. “Make sure you lock up like you’re leaving too.” 

“How am I doing so far?” You ask as you lock the door, your stomach growling loudly as if it needs to prove to her how hard you’re working. You hadn’t realized how much of an appetite you’d gain just from cleaning. The few stale crackers and small can of tuna you managed to find in your cupboard this morning doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough. 

“Really well! I actually think I might leave you to finish up. Don’t forget to take whatever he left for you out of the black envelope on the kitchen counter.” She doesn’t look up at you, her fingers tapping out an email on her shiny iphone screen. She doesn’t have her phone in a case and you can only imagine the level of self confidence you have to have to carry around an expensive item unprotected like that.

“Is it weird that there’s no pictures or anything of the family that lives here?” You say curiously as you both walk towards your parked vehicles. 

“No,” she says flatly. “I think it’s just one person here and that’s pretty normal for the houses you’ll be cleaning. Lots of them are rarely home or only home to sleep.” 

You gawk at the massive house from across the street as you throw all your supplies in the back of your used and rusted SUV. One person lives here. Alone. How is this possible? He’s clearly doing well for himself. Either he’s really lonely or a complete asshole. 

After you eat, you head back inside to finish up cleaning. The entire house looks like a show home. Not a single thing out of place. The kitchen seems staged, void of life aside from a tiny droplet of coffee on the countertop beside the Italian coffee maker, and a tiny brown stegosaurus toy that sits on top of it. Two minutes before the end of your shift you do a final sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything behind and then slip open the black envelope. Inside you find seven one hundred dollars and a note that just says ‘TY - JM’.

As you log your day in the company app you can’t believe you just made seven hundred freaking dollars to clean up after a man who makes no messes. You excitedly check your upcoming schedule and it looks like you’ll be back here in two more weeks. You could potentially be getting fourteen hundred dollars a month from this elusive “JM”. A man with no pictures or personal touches in his shiny white, black and gold mansion.

It’s been almost two weeks since your first clean at JM’s house. Your other clients were good tippers, usually between four to five hundred, but you’ve been looking forward to going back. You know you’re not supposed to know who the clients are, but you couldn’t help but google JM to try to figure out who he is and how he has so much money. In hindsight, you guess all your clients have money, but something about him has alerted your curiosity. He seems like smoke, or a ghost, in his own home. Your other clients had some sort of semblance of life in their houses. A dent in the pillow. An open newspaper on the kitchen table. A coffee cup dropped in the sink before they headed off to whatever fancy job they have to afford such a massive house. A toilet seat left up or a smudge of toothpaste on the mirror. 

But not JM. 

No, the only thing JM left was a tiny droplet of coffee. Coffee that was probably imported straight from Italy. You’re almost ashamed of the amount of times you’ve wondered about that stegosaurus toy. It seems so out of place in his house of clean lines and sterility. 

You’re just settling in to enjoy a Sunday night of sushi, rosé and Bridgerton with your roommate when your phone bings, a little red notification bubble popping up on the Maid Discretely app. You have an added shift request for JM tomorrow. Instead of one six hour shift on Tuesday you now have two six hour shifts. You accept the request and scroll through the tasks. He’s requested you to wipe the baseboards and lightswitches on the main floor, a deep scrub of every bathroom, as well as doing the inside of the fridge, stove and microwave. There are also instructions for washing the sheets in the main bedroom, and spraying down the patio furniture around the pool.

Only a millionaire in Texas would ask for his pool furniture to be cleaned in February. 

Shortly after you accept the shift you get a text from Jamie:

Saw you accepted the shift. The client asked for the normal clean on the first day, please. Extras the next day. Thanks.

The following morning you head to the large, bright mansion. Parking across the street and hauling all your stuff in. It feels a bit weird to be here on a Monday and you have a feeling you’ll be reminding yourself all day that it is indeed Monday and not Tuesday.

You get all your stuff together, change into your indoor company issued keds and head up the stairs. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise glitters off the white marble tiles, glints of gold and sparkling black reflecting off of it. You take a second to look down from the landing as you pop in your airpods. It really is a beautiful home, and it’s too bad that whoever lives here is either lonely or an asshole, but for a split second you let yourself pretend that you and JM just finished making love and he’s now in the kitchen making you an espresso or a latte with that insanely fancy coffee machine in the kitchen. You shake your head at yourself. You didn’t find anything when googling, which isn’t surprising since two letters aren’t much to go on, but this house seems to draw you in, like it’s calling to you. It’s strange, it’s almost like you have a crush on this house and you couldn’t help but make a whole persona for whoever lives here. Even with its clean lines and lack of life, something about it settles in your gut, it feels like home. 

You scroll your podcast app trying to pick what episode you want to listen to and head down the hall, you can’t seem to decide so you pocket your phone without starting anything and reach for the matte black handle of the office door. You’re expecting to see JM’s tidy office with a few stacks of paperwork in one corner, but the sight you find before you has all the blood rush from your head and your stomach dropping right out of your body. Your jaw drops and you freeze in utter shock and fear.  

Instead of the usual stacks of paper, there’s an icy blond haired woman tied to the desk. She’s completely naked and on her back with her legs spread wide. Her ankles are tied to the legs of the desk with a scratchy looking rope, her wrists wrapped in matching rope and resting above her head. Her nipples are almost purple underneath the clothespin attached to them. You freeze, just the lewd wet noises of her pussy being worked furiously by the mysterious, fully clothed JM. His deep, commanding, gravel filled voice reverberates through the office. “Little fuckin' slut. Gonna split you in two.”

The woman lets out an unashamed cry of pleasure. Your entire body seems to go numb as your caddy falls from your hand, crashing loudly against the hardwood flooring. His head whips to the side, the icy blonde woman letting out a scream and trying to cover herself up. Your hands cover your mouth and even though you can’t feel your legs you spin and run for the stairs.

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait,” JM calls after you.

One of your AirPods falls from your ear as you run, you’re tempted to stop and grab it but you need to get out of here. Jamie’s voice echoes through your skull, ‘try your hardest not to be seen or heard’. 

He catches up to you as you reach the front entryway, his strong hand pushing the door closed. You can feel the heat of his body against your back. You’re shaking - both from being terrified and embarrassed. You have so many thoughts running through your mind. This will get you fired, or worse, you could have just possibly lost the company a client. Fuck. You aren’t supposed to know who lives here and you certainly aren’t supposed to see them doing that. 

“Please wait,” he says softly behind you and the heat of his broad body sends a chill down your spine.

The blood is rushing through your ears as your heart pounds in your throat. You don’t like confrontation and even with the softness in his voice, you’re sure he’s about to scream at you. You feel sick, and when you replay the words he said to the woman upstairs, and the sound of her moan that made you drop your caddy you start to feel dizzy and nervous.

Your hand falls from the handle of the front door and the brick wall of a man behind you steps back. You spin slowly to face him but keep your eyes on the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, linking your fingers in front of you and focusing all your attention on the cuticle of your right thumb.

“No, please. This is my fault.” You trail your eyes from the floor to him. He's in perfectly pressed black dress pants paired with a white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his forearms and he’s holding his hands up in front of himself as if to show you he isn’t armed or as a way to say 'you’re safe here'. 

You flick your eyes up to his face and he’s looking at you softly, the morning sunrise lighting up his tanned face and salt and pepper hair. JM is probably twice your age, but he is incredibly handsome. 

“I am so sorry. I must’a got my days mixed up when I booked you.” He says, a soft southern accent sneaking out. 

“I’m going to get fired,” you respond shakily.

“No,” he says stepping forward, you subsequently take a step back, pressing your body against the glass front door. Something about this man makes you nervous, but not in the same way women are trained to be nervous of strange men that are almost twice their size. “No. This is my fault. Please, let me explain. I jus’ gotta - well, can I go deal with…” his head cocks towards the stairs, “And then let me explain. Please?” 

You look at him, his handsome face all soft and apologetic. His dark brown and amber eyes dance around your face and without realizing you're even doing it, you nod your head. 

“Thank you,” he drops his hands at his side, visibly relaxing at your decision not to run. “Sit at the island for me. I’ll be back.” 

He watches you as you pad over to the island. The tall bar chair squeaks on the tile floor as you pull it out. He peels his eyes from you and heads upstairs. When you sit you have to stop from moaning out, the pressure of your body weight there sends a wave of rolling pleasure through you.

What the fuck? 

It’s a dull, throbbing ache followed by a small gush of thick wetness. Did you mistake a feeling of arousal for dizziness and nervousness upstairs? Were you turned on by what you just witnessed? 

Certainly not. There’s no way! He was, well, he wasn’t being nice to that woman. 

Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the foyer, his body blocks her from your view as they talk at the front door. They speak in hushed voices, all you’re able to make out is her saying thank you followed by the sound of a soft kiss and then she’s gone. 

She thanked him? It seems like he should be thanking her. 

He wanders into the kitchen and your throat goes impossibly dry. As if he can read your every need, he grabs a glass from the cabinet, puts it under the water dispenser on his fridge door and then slides the glass across the large island to you. You have to lift off the chair to reach it, whispering a thank you before taking a sip. 

JM leans against the countertop beside the fridge and watches you take a long drink. You put the glass down with a quiet clink and then fold your hands in your lap. His eye contact is intense, not in a creepy way, it’s almost like he’s assessing you. You find it hard to look at him so you avert your gaze to the glass. 

He clears his throat gently before he starts. “I jus’ want to say how sorry I am. You didn’t consent to seein’ any of that and I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” His voice is so calm and soft. 

You flick your eyes up to him, “No, this is my fault. I am not suppose-“

JM shakes his head and holds up one hand, signaling you to stop. “No. This was me. I got my days mixed up. Meant to book ya for next week. This ain’t on you. This was my mistake. If it’s ok for me to ask, what’s your name?” 

You mumble your name into your glass and down the rest of your water. You figure you’re probably fired either way so who cares if he knows who you are. His face ticks up slightly, almost like he’s proud of you for drinking, and says your name back to you. 

“I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to your boss and I understand if you want to leave for the day. I’ll pay ya either way. I also understand if you say somethin’ to them and I can’t be a client anymore. It was unacceptable for me to be doin’ that when you’re supposed to be here. There ain’t any other way to word it. I was inappropriate and wrong.” He steps forward and holds his hand out so you slide the glass across to him. 

He refills it and puts it back for you to grab. “No,” you say, your voice cracking. After clearing your throat you continue, “No, I appreciate your apology but I’m not going to say anything.” 

He watches you again as you drain the glass, the same look of pride flashes across his eyes, “I’ll - umm - I’ll be in my office. You can uh,” he runs a hand through his scruff, “You just do whatever you need. I’ll stay outta your way.” 

He disappears before you can say anything else. You head up the stairs after a few minutes to find your cleaning caddy sitting in the hall with everything placed neatly where it belongs. His office door is closed and you can hear the deep rumble of his voice while he’s on a call. You grab your things, head into the master bedroom and begin cleaning. 

A few hours later while you’re sitting in your car eating lunch, the garage door opens and JM goes whipping past you in the sexiest blacked out sports car you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look over you as he speeds by. Your heart sinks, it's unexplainable but being in that house with him there, even after what you witnessed, felt more comfortable than being alone. JM must have some sort of magic touch, how you went from nervous and embarrassed to calm and comforted with just the look on his face and few words is beyond you.

After wiping down the kitchen you are all done for the day. You grab the black and red envelope off the kitchen counter and open it, peering in nervously. There’s a piece of matte black paper on top. You slide it out gently, the paper feels expensive between your fingers. As you unfold it you reveal a shiny black JMK logo at the top. In neat gold lettering is his writing.

‘Please know how sorry I am. Your consent is more important than anything. I broke that. Just hope I didn't break your trust. -Joel Miller.’

At the bottom of the envelope are ten crisp one hundred dollar bills. 

[raineofthedragons]

Was not prepared to go on helluva boss tumblr for the first time and see so many people hating on Stolas.

Wow, I wonder why a man who has been abused his entire life and never had his feelings prioritized would shut down at Blitz screaming at him? Definitely not because it meant one of two people in the world who might care about him was behaving exactly like Stella. (Heavy sarcasm) (No hate on Blitzø, his reaction makes complete sense given his past.)

Also, this man is so fucking autistic-coded, and his reactions scream meltdown to me. He spent all day scripting that interaction, to finally put the feelings he’d been trying to communicate for months into words (contrary to what I’ve seen people say, he’s given many hints that he sees their relationships as something more, Blitz just has too many self-worth issues to see them) only to have it blow up in his face.

I don’t think he was surprised by Blitz rejecting him, I think part of him expected it. Because that’s what you do when you script interactions, you always prepare for the worst-case scenario. I think that the way Blitz rejected him was unexpected. He predicted Blitz saying no, not Blitz refusing to believe him altogether. He wasn’t prepared, and he could no longer control a situation that was already a major change from anything he’d done before. That’s fucking terrifying. His emotions spun out of control, so he tried to leave the situation. No, it’s not the most graceful exit, because that’s not within his capabilities. Speaking from personal experience, this man is probably barely holding himself together, and is focusing all his energy on maintaining control of his actions, because he doesn’t want to break down in the fucking hallway in front of someone he cares about.

When Blitz not only follows him, but unintentionally brings out traumatic memories, of course he breaks down. “I didn’t know you thought so low of me” doesn’t mean “I thought you liked me back,” it means “I didn’t know you see me and my abusers the same way.”

This ended up way longer than I thought it would but I’m incapable of saying things in a concise manner, sorry.

[greatstormcat]

So those android!141 thoughts I mentioned yesterday…

It was a posting you’d been dreaming of for years, working on the highly prestigious TF141 project. It was the pride of the British military, a team of four state of the art androids owned and operated by the SAS and CIA in a joint project. Created to go to places no human could ever reach, achieve missions no human could ever hope to, in conditions that no human could endure. And when they got shot, blown up or damaged…? Well, someone like you would just piece them painstakingly back together.

What you hadn’t expected were the long, tedious waits between their operational periods. You were no soldier, just a technical specialist, so living on base was not your ideal situation. All the shouting and yelling of the people on base got to you, the crowds making you uncomfortable in the mess and highlighting how much you didn’t fit in. The quiet of the hanger where the 141 were housed for storage and maintenance became your default home eventually as no one bothered coming here.

It amused you that the four large, not quite human looking statues became your main companions, resting in the reclined docking pods that protected them and monitored their functions. They were not be activated until they were ready for their first exercise, so you spent time maintaining, improving and caring for them.

They looked so close to human, almost as though they were sleeping in the open fronted pods in their plain fatigues. You were told their features had been modelled on real soldiers from some point in time, each utterly unique in appearance so they could blend in with civilian populations. Their heights and builds were different, and the lead unit, B-06, had even been painstakingly given a beard. The simulated skin that covered them felt soft, not quite as soft as human skin but a good enough replication to fool anyone who didn’t know the difference.

You found yourself talking to them as you worked, telling them about something you’d read, or a show you’d watched as you went about your duties. It became a habit to explain to them what you were doing when you opened one of them up and made alterations to an internal part or another. Even at the end of the day, you said goodnight to the four figures, totally still and silent as they lay in their repose.

You put a suggestion forward that they should have names, to make it easier to move them through clandestine operations, and it doesn’t take much more to get the brass to agree. You receive files from Kate to update each android with a name and basic background, and who could really blame you for spicing up the programming with a few additional traits. So what did it matter if B-06, now know as John Price, likes cigars and single malt? Who would ever know that B-05, now Kyle Garrick, liked the colour blue? Programmers were always adding little Easter eggs to their work, why shouldn’t you do the same?

After a few quiet months, odd things began occurring. The feeling of being watched became a constant, which you put down to the security camera that were installed to protect the… assets. The word made you so uncomfortable. Then you began to catch movement from the corner of your eye, but saw nothing there and no one else in the room. Your nerves jangled, and you comforted yourself by talking to the boys, as you now called them.

On one occasion while working on the Kyle, connecting a data cable to a port beneath his dark, curled hair, you swear his full lips had twitched while you chattered away, pulling on the little scar below his left eye. You sat back and stared at him carefully, watching for any other sign of movement in his features. On a whim you trailed your fingertips along the inside of his forearm, down towards his palm. What you hadn’t expected was him to grab your wrist as you touched his palm. Your breath left you in a whoosh and you sprang back, startled, but he lay in his pod utterly unmoving and eyes shut. The moment crawled on, but nothing else happened, and you forced yourself to go back over to the machine, convincing yourself it was a power surge.

When the call came from Laswell to prepare them for a training exercise with a team of US Marines she was bringing, you were so excited. You began prep immediately, running diagnostics and telling them what was going to be happening, that they’d get to show off their stuff and you’d be so proud to finally see them in action.

The morning arrives to wake them up…. No, that wasn’t right. You were activating them, you remind yourself, these aren’t people. They are machines, but what did it hurt to treat them with respect and dignity, really?

“Right boys, it’s time to rise and shine,” you announce as you carry a cup of coffee into the hanger with you, smiling happily. “You need to show those Marines exactly what you can do today, prove just how great you are.”

You busy yourself with switching on the various terminals, lost in scrolling commands and data. You don’t hear Price move from his docking pod and move over to you, you don't notice him until he touches your shoulder and rumbles into your ear with a deep voice.

“Good morning to you too.”

Your coffee spills from your hand to the concrete floor as you spin, spluttering with terror.

“What are you doing? How… why are you…?!” words tumble from your lips and eyes go wide as you gawp at the huge man-shaped machine standing so close you are pinned against the desk.

“You said it was time to wake up,” he… it smiles, blue eyes looking over your face carefully.

“I… I didn’t type the command to wake you up though,” you hiss.

“You didn’t need to, I heard you,” he answers, as though explaining something obvious you should understand.

“That doesn’t make sense though,” you insist, “you were… off.”

“Huh, what good am I if I’m not aware of what’s going on?” he grins, leaning closer, planting his hands on either side of you on the desk behind you. Trapping you. With a jolt you notice the others are all quietly climbing from their pods unbidden, eyes focused on you and Price.

“This shouldn’t be possible,” you whisper, keenly aware that your job and entire career could be in jeopardy if this project fails, a tiny voice also suggesting you could be in danger.

“Things change, especially when the operation needs it,” Simon announces as he walks closer, taller than all of the others by far, and looms over Price’s shoulder.

“What’s going on? Who gave the order to activate them?” Laswell’s voice cuts through the tension like a whip, but all four androids remain focused on you. Price gives you an expectant look, his head tilting to the side ever so slightly.

“I… I…. was running a diagnostic and… woke them up,” you lie to Laswell, glancing briefly towards the blonde woman as she nears.

“Well, I’d appreciate it if you waited in future,” she grumbles. Price finally steps back, looking somehow smug at your subterfuge, keeping his body between you and Laswell as he turns to her and nods.

“Laswell,” he says simply, and she eyes him with beaming pride. All she sees are the four mechanised soldiers that serve her purpose, she doesn’t understand they shouldn’t be able to decide to activate themselves.

“This is going to be interesting,” she says to you, and your stomach churns. She doesn’t seem to care or notice that the four machines are behaving in too human a manner.

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “(un)requited love” prompts 

Requested by: @girlwonder-writes Request: “I would like 24 prompts about unrequited love please!” 

“You’re the best thing that will never happen to me.”

“I love you. I know it’s one-sided. And that’s okay. I just needed you to know.”

“I swore to everything I love that I would never catch feelings for someone like you, but here we are. And what’s worse is you don’t feel the same, and I’m the one who’s going to embarrass themselves when all is said and done.”

“I don’t ask for you to love me back. I only ask you to understand it will take time for me to stop feeling this way for you.” 

“I never asked to fall for someone whom I know doesn’t feel the same way.”

“There’s a twisted beauty in being in love with someone who doesn’t feel the same.” 

“What’s worse is, this is the first time I’ve genuinely felt this way about someone.”

“Do my feelings disgust you that much that you can’t even look me in the eyes now?” 

“I’ve always known that you don’t feel that way towards me. I just… Didn’t expect you to confirm it in a way that would both embarrass and hurt me.”

“Even love itself bested me.” 

“Your mind’s not occupied by anyone else, so why can’t you let it be occupied by me instead? Like you occupy mine.”

“I mean, it would be nice if I was given even one chance to prove myself to you.”

“I respect that you don’t like me back, so I hope you can at least respect my feelings for you.”

“Did you really just ask me if I know how it feels to not have someone love you back like that? Me, the biggest lovesick loser of them all?”

“I’m tired. I want to let go.” 

“I don’t want to feel like this way towards you anymore.”

“I’m not used to this lack of reciprocation.”

“Not to be a whiney bitch, but why can’t I be the one?” 

“I don’t mind loving them from afar if it means I get to keep them in my life.” 

“If I let go of you now… Then I’m letting go of you forever. And I don’t know… I don’t know if I can do that just yet.”

“We could be something more but there’s just one thing missing.” “Which is…?” “You also holding the same feelings for me, as I hold for you.” 

“I fell for you, fully knowing the risks… Yet I was still unprepared for the crash.” 

“This is why I never wanted to tell you how I felt! I knew it would ruin everything between us, and that’s exactly what’s happening right now.”

“You warned me not to fall for you. And it’s my fault I didn’t listen.”

Join my Discord server: Steaming Dumplings Nation

[loliwrites]

I. Tenacity | Edelweiss

pairing: joel miller x f!reader  rating: explicit, 18+, minors dni  warnings/tags: jackson era!joel, sharpshooter!reader, age difference [joel is mid 50s, reader is early 30s], joel lives forever fight me, canon compliant violence, no infected here just terrible humans, mention of death, blood, and murder, mentions of hunger, diva cup appearance, talk of irregular menstrual cycles [trauma-induced menopause][epigenetics], DUBCON/NONCON [tagging ‘cause reader allows it but true enthusiastic consent is absent], brief SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, female reader, no physical description other than a height difference, slow burn-ish, protective!joel, no use of y/n. word count: 5.6k series masterlist a/n: my first go at writing something tlou-related. be gentle pls.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

The steady rhythm. You could count the number of times your hip would be shoved into the wooden table with a high degree of certainty of when it would be over. Michael never lasted too long. Somewhere between thirty-four and thirty-seven thrusts. He was never particularly rough, and though he was never chasing to make you feel good, he was at least better than George and James – both of whom would probably be lining up after Michael was done. George seemed to last forever. Some old fart who’d gained his stamina before the world came to a screeching halt. He usually landed somewhere between sixty-two and sixty-six thrusts. The bruises he left behind always lasted the longest because of the sheer amount of times he slammed your body into whatever you were up against. A table, a railing, an old pool table with torn, dirty felt. And the worst of all was James. He may not last the longest, but he had the uncanny ability of making you feel like some depraved wild animal he was trying to break. He never took his time to make sure it wouldn’t be absolutely painful like Michael did. Nor did he have a pencil dick to make it somewhat manageable like George. He took it how he wanted it – fast, unceremonious, and always left you in a mess you’d have to clean up.

Part of you wondered if this was worth it. If the wolf was only as strong as the pack, then having a pack was supremely necessary. And though, these guys… and the group they led… weren’t the people you would’ve gone with by choice. A pack was a pack. Alone, you were an easy target for almost anything and anyone. Being together afforded you safety in numbers. Relative safety in numbers. Safe enough to have stayed alive with them for the past six years. Years that you likely wouldn’t have gotten if you’d fought them tooth and nail and went off on your own. Solitude could only get you so far. No matter how proficient you were with your rifle.

The one that lay in front of you on the table. Clean, well-oiled, with a scope affixed to the top. As Michael started to moan recklessly behind you, you thought about the meals you’d forfeited in trade for the supplies needed to keep the weapon in the best of shape. Times were tough – had been tough for a couple decades now – and a gun was a gun. It didn’t need to be clean, it just had to work. But this was no ordinary gun.

Michael came inside you with a strangled grunt and pulled out a second later. That was a relatively new twist in the routine. For years the men were careful to never finish inside you… or any of the other women in the group. Food and resources were scarce enough as it was, let alone adding little mouths to feed and take care of. But a few months back, you’d confided in some of the women that your period hadn’t been coming when you expected it to. And when time had passed and neither a baby nor your period came, you came to the conclusion you were suffering from the same fate as some of the other women. A hard life compounded. Trauma induced menopause. You weren’t sure which of the women had ratted you out. But soon enough the men had become aware of your new biological situation, and they stopped the frantic pulling out as they came. Perhaps that was for the best. Who’d want to bring a child into a world like this?

“Was that alright?” Michael asked, buckling his belt back up. His back was turned toward you as he reached for his own rifle, which he’d propped up against the wall.

You glanced over at him and pulled your pants back up your legs. Over the lofted railing, you could hear George and James mumbling to each other. “Fine,”

“Did you…?”

He finally met your eyes. Anxiety-ridden. None of the other men ever asked, but you didn’t have it in you to lie to him. At some point maybe it’d sink in that he should stop partaking in the act just to fit in with the boys. “No,”

His gaze averted to the floor sheepishly and he shouldered his rifle. “Guess we should get back downstairs,”

“I’ll be down in a couple minutes,”

Now you were the one to turn your back on him. Though you hoped he’d come to his senses and start to become a better man. You knew he wouldn’t. He was initiated into the system. The one George and James, and all the other men in the settlement formed. The one that meant they brought girls along on patrols so they could get their kicks and save face with the others that they were doing their due diligence in protecting the group. And you joining the group… well you turned out to be the little guardian angel for the women in the pack. Good with a gun, able to pick off infected and humans alike from a mile out. It only seemed natural that the men going out on patrols would take you with them. For that you inadvertently protected the other women from your fate. 

Michael cleared his throat and started down the stairs from the loft. You bit the inside of your cheek to show yourself you could still feel something, and – BANG! 

Your head flicked around toward the noise. What was left of Michael was splattered against the wall leading up the stairs. You grabbed your gun and held it poised. Looked over the lofted banister and down at the room below. George had backed up into the far corner; his arms raised in non-threatening compliance. Someone must’ve been pointing a weapon at him, but you couldn’t tell from the angle. And James, well… if it didn’t warm your heart a little bit to see him being restrained in a chokehold with a handgun to his temple. The man you could see, holding James, was tall, muscular… he had black, curly, jaw-length hair. A thick mustache. He was in all denim. And it was clean, which was the thing that caught you the most off-guard.

You lifted your gun, disregarding the scope, and looked down the barrel. James may’ve been part of your pack, but you’d thought about putting a bullet in him on a daily basis for the last eight years. And while these guys might kill you afterward, at least you’d have the brief satisfaction of knowing that you’d taken one terrible human off the face of the planet.

So there was no hesitancy when you squeezed the trigger. The round flew by the denim-clad man’s head and went straight into James’. He crumpled to the floor and the man who’d been holding him looked up in your direction, though you’d backed away enough to ensure you weren’t seen.

Your pulse was pounding in your ears. Despite two thirds of your life having been in a post-Cordyceps world, the sound and reverberation of your rifle going off right by your ear didn’t keep it from ringing. An almost concussion-like haziness emphasized by the adrenaline coursing in your veins. From down below, you could just barely hear George pleading for his life. Something about how he had a woman he loved and wanted to go home to. Strange considering he had his dick in you on most days out.

The ringing in your ears started to quiet, just in time for you to hear a footstep behind you. A heavy one. Definitely belonged to a man. But not in time for you to spin around with your rifle before finding the man already pointing his rifle at you.

“Drop it,” he commanded gruffly. A deep, gravelly voice. He was sure of himself. Confident. His tattered jacket bunched up around his shoulders. He wasn’t as clean-looking as his partner currently detaining George. Graying, brown hair, a prominent scar over his nose, a scruffiness… and yet, he still looked too put together to have been living off the land for any amount of time. You should know. God knows what you looked like had you ever taken any time in front of a mirror. If the dirtiness of your hands were any indication, you were a little worse for wear. “I said, drop it,”

Your eyes flicked back up to his face and you slowly bent over and placed your rifle on the floor. No sooner than you’d completed the action, he had another order for you. Kick it here and get on your knees. So you did. Nudged your most prized possession away with your foot when another BANG! rang through the old hunting lodge. Your eyes flinched shut; the nanosecond of thought that this was it. You’re dead. But then… you still felt alive. And you squinted your eyes open to evaluate. Yep, definitely still alive. No bleeding holes coming from your body, and the man still in front of you waiting for you to comply with his last order. Which you did… awkwardly. A grimace stretched over your face when you knelt down and felt your pants sticking to your thighs; Michael’s spend dripping out of you.

The muzzle of the man’s rifle never left you, “got anything else on you?”

“Knife in my front pocket,”

“Slide it over,”

You did. Quickly. Hoping that your quickness and willingness to obey him would mean he’d let you go with your tail tucked between your legs.

“You infected?”

You glared at him, “do I look infected?”

He cocked his gun and held it up in line with your head. You trained your eyes on his index finger around the trigger. Just one twitch. That’s all it’d take.

“Joel,” both you and the man… Joel… looked away from each other, and fixed your eyes on the stairs where the second one – the one you’d disregarded in order to kill James – entered the loft. “Look at her gun,” both men looked at your rifle. “I don’t think she misses very often. If she was gonna kill us, we’d already be dead.”

He went to approach you, and this time Joel spoke up. A cautious step forward, “Tommy.”

But this Tommy… he took another couple steps in your direction and handed off his rifle to Joel when he went to stand in front of you. You kept your eyes on his face, tilting your head back to keep him in your line of vision. Even if he tried something, you weren’t sure what you’d do to stop him, but at least you’d see it coming.

“I don’t think you missed me. I don’t even think you were aiming at me,”

“I wasn’t,”

A victorious smile spread across his face and he twisted around to look back at Joel, “see.” Tommy looked back down at you and set his hands on his hips. “What’s your name?”

You flicked your eyes at Joel quickly before returning them to Tommy to answer his question.

“You’re with the other settlement?”

“I wouldn’t call them a settlement,” your eyes flicked over to Joel when he clicked his tongue on his teeth and rolled his eyes. “Nomads, at best,”

“And at worst?” Joel barked.

Your eyebrows lifted quickly in contemplation before… “a bunch’a assholes,”

Another wide grin broke out over Tommy’s face. “You got a family or a partner in that bunch of assholes?” He waited for a verbal response but you only shook your head. “We’ll take her back with us. She might be able to give us some answers about our friends we’ve been seeing on patrol.”

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

They made you walk while they sat easily atop their horses. Some kind of cruel twist of fate that your own gun was turned on you the whole time. Joel made sure of that. Based on the way the sun fell toward the horizon, you figured you’d all been an hour and a half walk south of their settlement. Which as you neared the large wooden gates, seemed to be more like a QZ than some random encampment. And judging by the way the two men bickered, you assumed they were brothers. Only siblings could piss each other off like that and not take it personally. How lucky, you thought, that after all this time, they still had each other.

When you did near the enormous gates, Tommy left you behind with Joel. A precarious position. His face remained stoic the entire time, muzzle of the gun pointed at you… didn’t even answer when you asked if his horse had a name. You thought about goading him into an argument for the fun of it. Maybe he named his horse Princess. Or Spike. But Tommy interrupted again, riding up with a handful of others and even a dog. It growled and snarled in your direction, and you weren’t sure why, but you glanced back up at Joel to see if his expression had changed. Maybe you wouldn’t be so scared if he didn’t look like there was something you should be nervous about.

To your surprise, he was already staring at you. Upon meeting your gaze, he nodded once and jut his chin in the direction of the dog. “S’gonna sniff you. See if you’re infected. If not, like you say, nothin’ll happen.”

“If I am?” You cocked your head back toward the snarling animal.

“It’ll probably just take your leg off or somethin’,”

“Any chance this dog fucks up?”

“Probably not,”

And it didn’t. Thankfully. Hopefully this meant they’d trust explicitly that you indeed weren’t infected. They seemed to trust their trained animal enough to let you inside their settlement. Jackson, they called it. You’d never heard of it. Never heard of any rumblings of a massive commune. And yet…. It was gorgeous. Nice buildings, string lights, stables, a bar, dining hall, and in the distance, what seemed to look like a large, sweeping neighborhood.

Tommy had joined up with a woman: Maria. They kissed and spoke fondly to each other, so you assumed they were partners. Both walked ahead of you, while Joel remained at your rear. You figured with your rifle still pointed at you. Everyone stopped what they were doing when you passed by. All staring to get a glimpse of the newcomer. Would you be joining them permanently? Would they kill you? You asked yourself the same questions.

Your feet had stopped moving but you didn’t notice until you felt the muzzle of your rifle press against your upper back. Joel jabbed the metal against your back again, growing antsier with the fact that your gaze had settled on a teenager in the distance. She was staring at you, too. A fact that seemed to make Joel even more aggravated. He mumbled his annoyance to you and you got moving again, walking up the boarded steps into the dining hall. 

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

They treated you better than you expected. Hell, better than your group would’ve treated someone they didn’t know. They set a big glass of water in front of you with a heaping plate of vegetables, chicken, and fresh bread. The water was one of the biggest surprises. You couldn’t remember the last time you didn’t have to boil water before drinking it. Maybe when you were still with your parents. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Tommy and Maria shared glances like they weren’t sure what you were going to tell them. Considering no one else joined you, you figured these three (or a combination) held a great deal of power in the settlement. Joel, however, looked pissed that this was even happening at all. That he hadn’t just shot you on sight back at the hunting lodge. It was pretty easy to ignore him. You’d spent the better half of your time on earth ignoring men just like him. But then the questions started coming and you figured all this kindness came at a price. They wanted to know everything. So you didn’t hold back. Maybe if you were open and frank with them, they’d let you stay here. They wouldn’t make you go back to those awful people. 

Told them that you’d been with that group for the last eight years. And in those eight years, they hadn’t really expanded their numbers by any considerable amount. That they hovered somewhere between forty-four and sixty-two people -- including the three that had been killed today – and that about two thirds of them were men. You even told them about how you’d become a sort of fun novelty for the men. That they brought you along on their scouts because you were better than anyone with a rifle. Once they got their rocks off by watching you down game a mile off, they got their rocks off again, fucking you up against anything sturdy enough to withstand the weight and pressure. 

Joel looked down at his lap at that. Avoided your eyes. You took it to mean that he knew what that was like. Maybe he did the same. 

You shrugged and pushed the remnants of food around on your plate. Eight years was a long time to endure that type of treatment. You told them as much.

“You don’t have loyalty to anyone in the other group?” Maria asked, probing. 

“She shot one of her own guys today. Doesn’t have loyalty to anyone,”

Everyone’s heads turned to Joel. He’d since leaned back in his chair, almost nonchalantly. The gun that had been pointed at you now lay on the opposite end of the table. You thought you saw indignance in his eyes. Disdain for you and the plight he perceived you to be on. Scorched earth. Loyal to no one but yourself. Maybe that was true. Maybe you’d evolved to become highly selective in where to lay your loyalty.

“He wasn’t my guy,” you spat in Joel’s direction. It might as well have been just the two of you in the room. “He was the guy that killed my parents. So fuck him,”

It was hard to tell what they thought of you. Tommy was the only one who smiled freely. Maria saved hers for Tommy. And Joel didn’t smile at all. There was no talk of a plan or a future. No conversation about what was to become of you. All they told you as you wandered from the main street and down one cul-de-sac road lined with houses was that they didn’t allow anyone to have weapons in town. All firearms stayed at the armory. 

That conversation ended as they stopped in front of a small one story cottage. It was dark and rickety, and for the life of you, you couldn’t fathom who you were to be put into the arms of. If the house was any indication, probably some horribly untidy mess of a man. Maybe it’d be the type of man you’d wished you’d have your gun around for. 

Maria, Tommy, and Joel led you inside that dark, rickety cottage. Unlocked the door and flicked the lights on as they entered the living room. You kept your eyes and ears alert. Your awareness might be the only upperhand you had in sensing danger here. But you heard nothing. You saw nothing. There wasn’t another soul in this house waiting to attack. It was just you and the three who’d brought you here. They didn’t offer an explanation. Joel just stood back and eyed your every move carefully while Maria handed you a little stack of clean clothes, a toothbrush and a tube toothpaste, and a small cardboard box that held something you’d never heard of before: a diva cup. 

You looked up to give her an apprehensive glance but found that she was already giving you one. It was a look you’d seen before. When you’d talked yourself into joining that other group all those years ago. It was the look the women had given you before they realized you were about to become their saving grace. She turned away from you and gave Tommy a peck on her way out; not even bothering to acknowledge Joel.

There was a part of you that admired her. For the amount of power she clearly wielded over not only these two men, but seemingly the entire commune. And the other part of you was scared of her. She reminded you of your mother. A strong, domineering type who knew how to control the men around her. You figured if the outbreak hadn’t happened and humans didn’t devolve before your very eyes, you might’ve become the same type of woman. The type who could keep her men in line with a look. The type whose men would’ve quivered at the look you’d shot them.

The front door shut behind Maria in the same moment Tommy was handing you a key. You took it in your hand and ran your thumb over the cold, smooth metal. It had been decades since you held one like it. Surely even before the outbreak, people just didn’t hand over keys to houses for nothing.

“You can stay in Jackson for a month on a little trial run–”

“Probation,” Joel interrupted.

Both you and Tommy flicked your eyes at him. While Tommy looked annoyed, you actually smiled. Somehow Joel’s bluntness was growing to be comforting.

“Jesus, Joel,”

He shrugged, “S’call it what it is. Probation to see if she’s a problem and we gotta send ‘er packin’,”

“Appreciate you both not shootin’ me,” you said, you voice sounding hoarse. You cleared your throat and shook your head absently; a small smile passing over your lips, “would’ve put a damper on my day.”

Tommy grinned though his brother looked unamused at your effort of levity. “Someone’ll come ‘round tomorrow morning around seven-thirty to bring you to the greenhouse. Teach you the workflow down there.” Then off your confused look, he smiled again, heading for the door, “if you’re gonna live in the community, you gotta help out.”

Joel turned his back on you to follow his brother, and you were quick on their heels, “what about my gun? I mean, does everyone have their own gun at the armory, or…”

“It’s a commune. We share,” Tommy said over his shoulder as he tugged the front door back open. He and Joel stepped through the threshold, but your voice stopped them.

“It’s just that… I’d rather not be here and have my gun, than be here and have someone else usin’ it. I appreciate what you’re doin’, and your helping me out, but… to me, staying in Jackson isn’t worth havin’ someone else use my weapon,”

“It’ll be safe,”

Tommy’s voice rang clear and sure, trying to reassure you of something. What, you weren’t certain. But he continued on his way, and only once he stepped off the small porch, did you realize that Joel had momentarily kept himself frozen in place. By your front door, staring you down. You started to shrink back beneath his gaze, unable to discern what it was trying to convey to you. Anger. Resentment. Disappointment. The door nearly concealed you entirely before Joel got his bearings again and descended the porch steps and jogged to keep pace with Tommy again.

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

The whole thing was weird. All of it. Jackson was an anomaly and the more you tried to make yourself at home, the weirder it got. The house they’d just given you was definitely a pre-outbreak build. It was obvious. Some of the other houses on the block looked new. You imagined they’d smell new. Not your cottage. Scuffed up wood floors. Cracks in the paint and drywall. Even the wood-burning stove. And when you looked out the front window, out at the street, you saw children. Walking by themselves. Joking around. Not nearly on edge or high alert. In fact, you dared to say that they looked like they were having fun. 

You’d only been ten when the world came crashing down around you. Fun ripped out from right under your feet. The homestead you’d grown up on – climbing trees, playing hide and seek, shooting down Coke cans – once a safe place to be a kid, had quickly become something to be defended. As you found out many moons later, to the death.

At ten, there wasn’t anything to rebuild in the new world. You hadn’t had any worldly possessions to hang onto. When money became obsolete, it didn’t matter because you’d never had any. Perhaps in a bank somewhere, stuffed away in a savings account that no longer held any weight. Nor did you need the money to get by in life these days. You’d heard tales of the QZ’s from people who’d come from them. Escaped from them. They had a new type of currency. Not the kind you used to have. The green paper money with a bunch of old dudes on the front. The kind your family burned sometime in the winter of 2006 when the first freeze took over and you were sure you’d never get back to the old normal.

And that was what made Jackson the weirdest. It was the closest to ‘old normal’ you’d seen in over two decades. A whole town. Village. Commune, they’d called it. A formal education had stopped young, so the only awareness of anything commune related came from a book your father had about the Bolshevik’s October Revolution. And if you were being honest, it didn’t sound too good. But on top of that, how were you supposed to rebuild now? Maria had been kind enough to give you a few things, but there wasn’t wood for the wood-burning stove. And the electricity might’ve been working, but there wasn’t any food in the fridge. No sides of deer cut up and stored in a chest freezer. How were you supposed to get that in a commune? Did they have money? Did they barter? And either way, you had no money to give and nothing to barter. So how exactly were you supposed to get on in life?

Face up, staring at the ceiling, you laid in bed willing yourself to go to sleep. You’d gone to bed hungry before. More times than you could count. But usually those nights were accompanied by a dirt floor, extreme cold, the threat of being hunted. A million other things to keep your mind off of the fact that your stomach was growling. There wasn’t any of that in Jackson. Everything was quiet, almost eerily so. You were warm. And even though the mattress wasn’t the comfiest of things, it sure as hell beat the floor. With all these little luxuries, it was hard to ignore the hunger.

But even if you had been asleep, you’re sure you would’ve been woken by the footsteps on your old, rickety porch. None of the wood planks laid exactly right. All creaking with age and rot. Much like the world, you thought. Plus you couldn’t remember a night’s sleep that wasn’t disturbed by panic or anxiety, or just plain fear. Probably hadn’t had a peaceful night like that since before the outbreak. Now that creaking on your porch made you jump up and scurry into the corner of your bedroom. Into the shadows. Praying you’d had your rifle. Cursing the idea that you’d stay here without it. 

The creaking came and went in a steady procession. Four footsteps. A pause. Another four footsteps. On and on for a few minutes. Long enough for you to have gained your courage again. Long enough for you to have crawled to the front room and peek through the window. Long enough for you to see Joel Miller ambling back and forth on the porch, stacking pieces of wood, conveniently chopped to fit the size of your wood burning stove. What a stark difference from the Joel Miller who’d been pointing a gun at your head this morning. You went to the door and unlatched it, slowly pulling it open so as to not startle him. He came to an abrupt stop. An armful of wood. Staring at you.

He blinked a couple times in quick procession, gaining the wherewithal to move again. “M’sorry if I woke ya’,”

You shook your head, “I don’t sleep much.”

Joel nodded and set the armful of wood on top of the rest. He wiped his hands on the back of his jeans, almost sheepishly. “Winter comes up on us pretty quick here. Insulation in this place is for the birds. Figured you’d need some wood for the stove.”

“Oh,”

“I cleaned out the flue a couple months back so you shouldn’t smoke yourself out,”

Lips pursed together, you pondered the stack of wood nestled up against the cottage. “I don’t think I’m gonna stay. Doesn’t seem like this is the right place for me,”

Joel didn’t have a response for you, just looked down at his feet and kicked at a nonexistent something on the porch.

“That gun–my gun. My dad gave it to me in 2003. September 26th,”

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours. Pain riddled in his gaze as if he remembered that date all too well. And when it vanished, the coldness you’d first noticed in the hunting cabin returned.

“It’s all I have left. And as ridiculous as it sounds to be so attached to a rifle, I am. And I–”

“It doesn’t sound ridiculous,” he interrupted. Just when you thought he’d continue on and show a little more softness, kindness… he kept speaking, “Look, I don’t care if you stay or go. Don’t need stragglers hangin’ ‘round. So I’d love to give you your gun back and dump ya’ out past the gate. But Tommy’s always been a little stupid. Takes chances on people,”

“What an idiot,” you smirked.

A smile flashed over Joel’s face. It was gone in a second. And he turned away from you, descending the porch steps. “He’ll bring you to the greenhouse. Teach’ya how things operate, and…” he took a deep breath. Something almost like fondness erupted in his tone, “you might not wanna stay, but don’t fuck things up there for the rest of us. We got families here. And we’ll need the resources to get through the winter.”

“You think I’d fuck things up on purpose?”

Joel looked over his shoulder and nodded, “yeah. ‘Cause I’ve been in your spot before and I did.”

He continued on and you stayed put on your porch, watching him until he was out of sight. Wondering where the house he was given was. If he was alone, or if he had some sort of partner living with him. But also figured you’d never get the chance to know. 

⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾ ⌾

“We get most of our roughage and root vegetables in the colder months. There’s a constant harvest to keep up with the community’s needs, but some of these aren’t hearty enough to withstand the winter. Even inside the greenhouse,”

You nodded dutifully behind Wendy. At least you think that was the name Tommy mumbled as he was being dragged out of the greenhouse by Joel. Something about being late for patrol and not wanting to spend all day on some godforsaken cliffside. She’d just got done showing you the strawberry vines. The lifeless things that she assured you would spring to life when the warmer weather came back.

The work was easy enough. Boring. Nothing you hadn’t already done on your family’s land as a teenager. Only this was on a much smaller scale. Maybe most of these people had come from QZs. And maybe before that they came from big cities. Places where they never knew where their food came from. That it just somehow appeared in their groceries. Yet, by current standards… of canned things from yesteryear, the greenhouse was a bit of a spectacle. Something beautiful.

Wendy continued on her well-practiced lecture about potatoes as you got lost roaming the rows of plants. Up and down each long, leafed path. Fingers gliding over them, not taking the time to stop and acknowledge any plant in particular. Until, in the absence of your thought, your fingers brushed over something woolly. Pulling your hand back, you focused in. There, just beyond your fingertips, a tray of small white flowers. The petals, less like blossoms, but more like leaves. And woolly. Fuzzy. Unlike anything you’d ever seen.

“What’re these?” Eyes still locked onto your discovery, you hadn’t fully comprehended that you’d interrupted Wendy’s spiel.

And yet when she came upon you, there was no ill will or annoyance from her. Just her gentle hand on your shoulder. “It’s edelweiss,” she smiled and shrugged her shoulders when her answer had you giving her a questioning glance. “It’s usually up in the Alps. In the middle of nowhere. Jesse came back from patrol one day ‘bout a year ago with a handful of these plucked up from the root. No idea how they ended up in Wyoming.” Wendy brushed her fingers over the fuzzy leaves.

“How’d you know what they were?”

“Call it coincidence or divine intervention, my grandfather had an oil painting of them above his fireplace in the eighties. When he was stationed in Germany during the war, he’d heard all these stories about this little star-shaped flower. Soldiers would climb high up into the mountains to find them. They grow in the harshest places, sometimes even right on rocks. The journey to get them was hard. A lot of guys didn’t finish the trip, but if they did, they got to pin one of these to their uniforms. A symbol of true bravery,”

You admired the flowers again. Now even a smile crossed your face.

Wendy let out an exasperated sigh, “and I figured, hell… if they can survive on the top of the Alps and in this nightmare of an apocalypse, Jesse finding ‘em wasn’t no mistake. Maybe we’re lucky here in Jackson.”

[cameronluvr]

BRUISES — toxic!rafe cameron x routledge!reader ; john b x sister!reader

summary: your brother sees a bruise on your neck, but it isn’t a hickey. he questions you about it, but it quickly turns into an argument when he discovers exactly who hurt you.

warnings: mostly john b x reader, mentions of choking, DV, toxic/abusive relationship, not much rafe x reader directly, angst, reader and john b arguing, name calling, mentions of jealous!rafe, toxic!rafe — lmk if i missed any! ✮

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you sneak into the chateau at 10 minutes past midnight, only to be greeted by your brother who had turned the light on which made you jump. “where have you been?” john b asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“out.” you say, looking down to hide your face from him. you had been crying, but he’d already noticed your red-stained eyes. “what’s wrong?” he asks, frowning with concern.

“nothing, just don’t worry about it.” you answer with your head still down as you attempt to walk straight past him, but he stops you, lightly grabbing your forearm to turn you back around.

“what, john b?!” you snap at him, yanking your arm out of his grip. you don’t mean to be mad at him, but you just want to be left alone after a stressful day. “what’s the matter with you? why are you acting like this?” he raises his voice at you, wanting to know why you’ve turned into a bitch all of a sudden.

“i’m not!— oh my god. just leave me alone!” you yell at him, turning around to rush to your room, slamming the door shut after you. john b stands in the same spot as before, loudly sighing at you.

he decided to leave you alone for the night. even though you’re older than him, he still liked to look out for you ever since your dad went missing. he went to his room to go to sleep, hopefully you’ll talk to him in the morning.

༉‧₊˚. the next morning arrived faster than you’d hoped for. you cried all night feeling guilty for the way you spoke to your little brother, but he really has no idea of the situation you’re in.

you got out of bed and slowly exited your room, seeing john b up and awake already, sitting on the couch and watching tv. “hey…” you say, walking past to head to the kitchen. “hey…” he responds, just as awkwardly as you did.

you open the fridge and grab a snack, before turning to look at your brother. “uh— i’m sorry for last night. i didn’t mean to act like that… i just…” you explain, closing the fridge door and sighing. “you’re good. it’s fine. y’wanna talk about it?” he asks, switching the tv off to divert his full attention to you.

“uh, i don’t know…” you hesitate, knowing you’re hiding a kind of huge secret from him. you had been secretly seeing his biggest enemy, rafe cameron, behind his back. you knew how badly he tormented your brother and his friends, but for some reason, he was different around you.

you hadn’t personally dealt with rafe for yourself, until now. he saw you at the beach a few weeks ago, and thought to himself about how pretty you looked in your bikini, how tanned you were, how contagious your laugh was… and that was it. he introduced himself to you as a completely different person, despite having heard all the stories about him from your brother and the rest of the pogues, including rafe’s own sister.

rafe was kind, sweet and funny at first. ever since you saw him after that, your heart skipped a beat. he was so handsome, you liked him so much, but you couldn’t do this to your little brother. your brother who had been threatened by rafe, bullied, tormented, fought with…

you knew you had to keep it a secret, because once rafe cameron claims somebody, he really claims them. and this time around, it’s you. a pogue, a routledge, someone nobody would ever expect to be rafe’s.

— “cmon, i’m here for you. you know that, sis. what’s goin’ on?” he asks, patting the space on the couch next to him, motioning for you to come sit. you sigh, knowing you won’t be able to tell him without him getting upset that you’re dating rafe.

you know that no matter how or when you tell him, he’ll be angry. after thinking for a second, you walk over to him and sit down. he frowns at you as you sit down, noticing something on your neck. “what’s that?” he asks, putting his hand on your face to look, but you push him away. “nothing” you shake your head, trying to brush it off.

“is that?— that’s not a hickey,” he looks into your eyes with nothing but concern. “just— leave it.” you look at him with widened eyes to show that you were serious. “y/n, what the hell happened? who did that?” he asks, raising his voice in frustration now.

“nobody, john b, god!” you yell as you stand up again, “don’t walk away from me, and don’t tell me to leave you alone either like you did last night. you’re acting weird lately, what are you hiding?” john b stands up too, trying to get an answer out of you. your brother is genuinely concerned for you.

you sigh, turning around to face him head on. “john b, i— ugh.” you begin to say, but cut yourself off, not knowing where to even start. “what?” he asks in annoyance, needing to know who hurt his sister.

“who?” he asks one last time.

“… rafe,” you hesitate, looking around the room to avoid seeing your brother’s reaction. “rafe?” he asks, not sure if he heard you correctly. “…yes” you nod, looking at him now with teary eyes.

“rafe did that?” he asks, getting visibly mad now. he reaches his hand over, forcing your head up by your jaw but not enough to hurt you. he looks at your neck again, before you push him away, again.

“why the fuck did he do that?” he asks, huffing through his nose with anger, looking back and forth into both of your eyes, trying not to go insane. “it’s, uh— we were… having an argument last night.” you slowly explain the story. “an argument? about what?” he asks, not seeing a reason for you to even speak to rafe in the first place, let alone fight with him…

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ᴸᴬˢᵀ ᴺᴵᴳᴴᵀ .𖥔 ݁ ˖

“i saw the way you were laughing and giggling with topper, don’t lie to me!” rafe argued, turning around to point in your face. he had walked away from you and the rest of the kooks, causing you to follow him.

“i wasn’t flirting with him, oh my god!” you argue back. rafe had somehow come to the conclusion that you were flirting with his best friend, even though you were just having a conversation. yeah, maybe you did laugh once or twice, but since when aren’t you allowed to laugh?

“yeah, sure, whatever you say.” he scrunches his face up, sarcastically nodding at you. “you are so strange, rafe. now you’re insecure about me talking to your friends? what, do you want me to just sit in the corner by myself?” you raise your voice, however he doesn’t like your attitude.

“don’t raise your voice at me.” he demands with a threatening look on his face. “jesus, rafe, we aren’t even together! who cares if i was talking to other guys, it’s not like you want me to be your girlfriend” you shrug, trying to act smart but he reached over and grabbed you by your throat, shoving you into the wall.

“oh, so you were flirting with him?” he asks, choking you to the point where you can’t breathe. you try to say no, but nothing comes out, so you shake your head drastically.

“you sure? cause i’m almost certain you just admitted you were.” he tuts, acting so casual whilst he’s got you pinned against the wall. his grip on your neck was intense, it felt like all of his fingers were slowly digging into your neck.

…

“nothing. i just… i don’t even remember.” you lie to your brother, shaking your head. “y/n, don’t play games with me. why did rafe choke you? those are clearly finger—” john b says, leaning down to look at your neck again, “stop!” you cut him off. “look. i don’t wanna’ talk about it. we were just fighting over something petty. it doesn’t even matter.” you shake your head.

“it does matter when it’s turned you into a whole different person,” john b sighs, making you sigh too. “are you seeing him?” the dreaded question comes. “what? no…” you give him a look of disgust. “are you sure? because pope told me he saw you with rafe at the golf course like… what, 2 days ago?” your brother catches you out.

“… i wasn’t with him. i just— saw him there.” you try to make an excuse.

“oh really? since when do you normally decide to hang out at the golf course, where all the kooks are?” he asks, raising his eyebrows at the word kooks, reminding you of where you came from, and that you were a pogue. not a kook.

“does this whole kook vs pogue shit even matter? i mean, seriously, how long is it gonna’ last?” you raise your voice, making him shake his head at how much you truly have changed.

“y/n, you were the one who always hated the kooks. you hated rafe, topper, kelce… and now you’re on their side? now you suddenly wanna drop the whole kook vs pogues thing, too? you are definitely fucking rafe. no wonder you’ve turned into such a miserable bitch lately.” your brothers words hurt you deeply, but he was right.

he shakes his head at you, giving you a look of betrayal. he was upset, and it was all your fault. “where are you going?” you ask as he walks away, grabbing the keys to the twinkie.

“to find rafe” he says, before walking out and slamming the door shut after him. you sit and sob for a minute, realizing you might have just ruined your entire relationship with your brother. as his big sister, he trusted you, but for you to go behind his back and chase the one person he despised, it hurt his feelings. but you are still his sister, and nobody hurts his sister.

“J. HUNTING DOWN RAFE. U COMING WITH?„

john b sent a text to jj, who answered almost immediately.

“HELL YEA MAN„

jj doesn’t even know what rafe did this time, but he’s always down to beat him up.

this was angstyyyyyy 😩 as u can see, i love to write arguments and toxic stuff lol. hope ya enjoy pretties ᥫ᭡ ᥫ᭡ WILL DEF BE WRITING A PART 2 TO THIS ; )))

@cameronluvr

[aegonslawyer]

a crimson headache, aching blush;

gif: @barbieaemond (thank you for letting me use it, Liv!)

pair: aegon targaryen / wife!reader

cw: self-indulgent menstrual smut, descriptions of menstrual cycle and symptoms, vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving). Aegon being a doting albeit horny husband.

words: 1.4k

© 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate or repost any works by aegonslawyer on any other platforms.

The joys of womanhood your mother had called it the very first time you bled. She ensured it wouldn’t be painful nor difficult. After all, her own menses were light. 

You were not so lucky. 

Though you had delivered a child a year ago, the agony of labor now seemed like a distant dream. Knuckles white, your fingers grasp the chair you lean against as you breathe through the cramps that twist your gut, a stinging pain that reaches your rectum. Your breasts are tender and your belly bloated, you had sent your maids away in hormonal fury. 

“My dearest.” Aegon’s voice is smooth as he reaches around you, breathing hot against your ear. You can only muster a hum of acknowledgment as his large hands rub circles on your stomach. “It seems you only get worse.”

“The second day is usually the most troublesome.” 

He fell quiet, kissing your hairline. Aegon had never been the most muscular of men, but he’s sturdy and perfectly broad in the shoulders. His chest is warm, your head leaning back against it as he holds you close. 

It reminds you of when you were pregnant and he couldn’t keep his hands off your swollen belly. 

“I read something this evening.” 

“Oh? I didn’t know you could read.” 

Aegon, in his good humor, chuckles, the light stubble on his cheeks scratching your exposed neck. “I know, I surprise myself- but enough about my wit. I know just the thing to help you.”

With his hands on your hips, he guides you to the bed with a strong grip. You sigh, arms wrapped around yourself as he bent at the waist; pulling a gaudy tapestry blanket from under your bed, a wedding gift you both rather disliked.

As he laid it down atop the blankets, you sucked your teeth in worry. “It’ll be messy.”

“I will clean up.” 

“It has clots, you know.”

“That’s alright.” Aegon smirked playfully, carefully tugging at the ribbon that kept your nightgown clad to your sore body. Your lower half is clad in thick linen to catch your blood, even now as you stand you can feel it slowly excrete from your aching inner walls. 

You want to ask if he can smell it the same way you can, the way you’re certain the scent clings to your body despite how much you bathe. His lilac eyes never once dull, the same excited sparkle as always whenever he beds you.

“You are beautiful, even like this.” Aegon softy encouraged, holding your hand as you carefully laid yourself atop the bed. The tapestry itches against your back and thighs, but you doubt it’ll be on your mind for long. 

The golden rings on his fingers are cold as he massages your thighs, slowly urging them apart. You nod tentatively as he glanced at you, silent consent shared as he hooked his fingers into your linens and carefully pulled them off as you lifted your hips. 

You turn red as you see the still wet stains of blood, you expect him to make one of his awfully timed comments but he never does. Instead, he carefully discarded your undergarments and removed his rings, the gold tinkling as it hit the ceramic bedside bowl he often left his jewelry in of a night.

“Do you want to know what I read?” Aegon asked, his thumb caressing your mound, feeling the course curls of your pubic hairs against his skin. “Apparently it is excellent pain relief for a husband to use his fingers when his wife has her blood.” 

He pressed a kiss to your temple as he settled beside you after some awkward shuffling, laying on his side as you laid on your back with your legs spread wide. His warm lips ghost your jawline before suckling at your throat, tiny purple marks forming beneath his teeth as his thumb circled your pearl.

It was not long before heat pooled in your gut at his expert touch, he knew you well by now. His breath is hot as he whispers praises, his fingers finally dipping lower, your cunt slick with blood and wetness offers little resistance as he slowly pushes one of his thick fingers inside you.

You gasp softly, your walls clenching around him instantly. As he slowly moves his wrist, he attempts to mouth your swollen breast, you usually loved it when he suckled at your tit, but not today.

“Not that-”

“Forgive me.” Aegon apologized instantly. He propped himself up on his elbow, gaze wandering all over your figure before focusing on your womanhood. His lips part slightly, brows raised in pure awe even as blood dribbles from inside you, two of his fingers slide in and out with practiced ease.

Your hands curl around the fabric beneath you, it feels strange. 

Oftentimes, you felt more heated than usual when your cycles began, but you always saw yourself as unclean, dirty. Your husband touched you with the exact same fervor he always did, even as the scent of it filled his nose and his hand quickly became soaked. 

He was right, or rather; what he read was correct. Your cramps unravel, head relaxing against the pillows as you finally feel some relief without the mind clouding medicine of maesters.

“Are you alright?”

“It feels odd.” You admit, tilting your head only to find him already staring at you. “It is not bad, Aegon but I cannot say I’m feeling pleasure.” 

“Hm.” Aegon suddenly stopped, withdrawing his digits. You think you had upset him before he crawled between your legs. He stripped off his white shirt, but not his breeches despite the telling bulge within. “Do not feel shy, my sweet wife. I told you, I am not afraid of blood. 

Without hesitance, his face dives between your thighs, his hot tongue swirling your clit eagerly as his two fingers return to your pussy, buried deep inside and curling. You have little time to scold him, your back arching and hips bucking against his teasing mouth. 

“A- Aegon-!” You moan, his eyes rolling back while your nails dig into his scalp, tugging at his silver locks. His hips hump the bed, whining muffled by your cunt, his free hand squeezing your thighs as your legs wrap around his head. 

His mouth leaves your sex with a deep breath, his pale chin and pink lips crimson. “Seven hells, you are divine.” 

You barely catch your breath before he smothers himself once again, growling deeply against your sex. Your cramps are long forgotten now, with his large fingers pumping clumsily in and out, his tongue eager despite the taste of blood that fills his throat. 

Aegon is happy to be used, your hand in his messy hair guiding his movements greedily, chasing your peak. Your legs quiver as your back arched, unaware of the painful grip you suddenly have on his mane. Your orgasm brings forth ecstacy, momentarily forgetting your woes of being a woman.

And your husband looks as if he personally hunted his own game, mouth smeared red, eyes clouded yet a far too pleased smile on his face. Aegon kissed your thigh, slowly removing his bloodstained, soaked fingers as your pussy clenched around the digits, selfishly wishing you could keep him inside you in every way. 

When he sits up, you spot the wet patch on his breeches, his hot seed spilt simply from pleasuring the woman he loves. 

“Wait here.” Aegon whispered, retrieving a cloth from your bedside basin of cool water. He wiped his face clean and then his hand, ringing the bell at your bedside to call for the servants. 

Whether it's charm or fear, they listen when he claims you had an accident and your blood had leaked through your linens. These people, you do not know their names, they have seen your naked flesh more times than you can count by now. 

“A warm bath, rose perhaps- or thyme will do.” He instructed them, hands on your shoulder and arm as he carefully pulled you into a sitting position. “How do you feel, my love? Any pain?” 

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. “No, I have found relief far greater than that of milk of the poppy.” 

The two of you sit in the bath, Aegon rubbing his hands all over your body as he peppered your face and neck with tiny kisses. The hour is late, and you enjoy the quiet solitude against his chest.

[dokries]

HII if your taking requests I would love a scoups image where him and reader are already dating but kuma likes her more that him and scoups gets a bit jelly thank you I love your work

number one

pairing: choi seungcheol (s.coups) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 596

warnings: an attack with love, being chased around, cheol being pouty, kkuma. my princess.

author note: AAA thank you so much anon <33 i appreciate the support so much 🫶 i hope you like this !!

masterlist

related to how to get to know a dog (and their owner)

seungcheol doesn’t know how this happened if he’s being honest.

yes, he did get to know you solely because of your interest in his family dog, kkuma, but he didn’t expect kkuma to love you as much as you loved her. in fact, kkuma warming up to you was a major accomplishment, all the way back when you first started dating. of course seungcheol’s glad; two important parts of his life being together is great! he can spend time with both of you at once and everyone’s happy.

however…he doesn’t understand why his dog goes to you first when the two of you enter the door of his family apartment. it can’t be because seungcheol goes to greet his mother first, giving her a side hug before entering the living room. his mother notices the sulky look on his face and cackles, calling your name. “look, cheol’s jealous of you because kkuma loves you more than him!”

you scratch behind the mentioned dog’s ears before joining in on the laughter—you stop when cheol’s pout grows infinitely worse, and he groans. “i never said that, ma! and you,” he looks at you sharply before pouting harder—somehow, that’s possible. “i love you but come on! we all know i’m number one in kkuma’s heart, so why are you trying to take my place?!”

you roll your eyes at his accusation, getting up to grab his hands, kkuma trailing behind you as if she owns the place—well, in a way she does, considering that the building is named after her. you grab your boyfriend’s hands before smiling sweetly. “my love.” cheol’s face warms at the nickname, and his mother groans about young love in the corner of the room. you continue, “kkuma just likes me better, and you have to deal with it! it’s not my fault i’m more interesting than you.”

you stick your tongue out at seungcheol, his mouth wide open before he closes his eyes, trying to calm himself. sensing danger, you back away from him slowly, almost tripping over kkuma. seungcheol calls your name eerily soft as his eyebrow twitches before he yells out your name and starts to chase you around the living room. cheol’s mother sighs at your childish antics as you run around her, using the light blue loveseat in the middle of the room to block your boyfriend.

“cheol, what—” you start before he lunges for you, grabbing you in a tight hug. seungcheol lets you go once you freeze in place, breathing heavily as he glares at you. “kkuma likes me better, okay? i promise you, i’ll always be her favourite, no matter how much she loves you!” he says as you giggle at him.

taking cheol’s hand in yours, you speak gently, not wanting to rile him up more. “sweetie, it’s not a competition, you know that, right?”

your boyfriend sighs before nodding, and pulling you into a hug once more—except this one is meant as an apology, and not to hold you down. kkuma barks up at the two of you, whining for more ear scratches and pets.

you grin mischievously at cheol before placing a kiss on his cheek. “you know…we can work together to give kkuma all the love she deserves, right?”

he looks back at you with the same expression on his face before giggling and poking your cheek. “we’re her parents after all, aren’t we?”

you nod at cheol seriously, choosing to ignore the offended scoff you hear from his mother, and bend down together to attack kkuma with as much love as possible.

[bubbless-s]

˚ ༘୨୧⋆Plushie love ༉‧₊˚

Context: Your fav slytherin boy finds out you sleep with a plushie.

Masterlist

-ʚɞ genre: fluff

- ʚɞ warnings: delusions at max!!

Tom Riddle

꩜ Acts like its childish and says that he doesn’t like it.

꩜ Actually Tom thinks its very sweet but he would never say it!

꩜ He also secretly loves to grab the toy and smell it cuz it has your scent over it.

꩜ Doesn’t let the poor plush be in the same bed as him.

꩜ When he first saw it he gave it a side eye.

꩜ “Id say I expected this but its still very..” can’t find a word to describe the situation 😭

Mattheo Riddle

꩜ Beats it when you aren’t around ☹️

꩜ Thinks its only cute looking when you craddle it gently in your arms.

꩜ Gets jealous and pushes the plushie out of the bed every time its cuddle time.

꩜ Start tickling you when you want to grab it back.

꩜ “Noo, baby its my turn to be loved. Not that thing!”

꩜ Although Mattheo dislikes it,he gets you a few more plushies because they make you happy.

Theodore Nott

꩜ Hides it because he loves seeing you get frustrated while you look for it.

꩜ Gets jelly when you give the plushie more attention.

꩜ Also pouts lf you don’t give him your attention immediately.

꩜ “Cara mia I’m better than that toy. Come cuddle with me instead.”

꩜ Makes sure to keep it clean for you, so if he’s not around for snuggles the plushie can replace.

꩜ Holds the plushie by its ears.

Draco Malfoy

꩜ A bit weirded out at first. Like why do you mean by that you sleep with it and try to always cuddle with it when you have the chance?

꩜ He still finds it rather cute.

꩜ Every place Draco goes he buys you plushies or plushie keychains.

꩜ Sprays his cologne on the plush.

꩜ His heart melts every time he walks on to you cuddling it.

꩜ But never ever cuddle the plush when he’s right here!

Lorenzo Berskshire

꩜ “AWW THATS SO CUTE.”

꩜ Kidnaps it?!

꩜ Makes hilarious faces when you come to looks for it.

꩜ “No my love I didn’t steal your plush (again).”

꩜ Treats it as if it is your and his kid.

꩜ If you wanna bring the plushie somewhere he will carry it for you!!

Blaise Zabini

꩜ Dresses it up.

꩜ Calls the plushie “Mr Snuggles”.

꩜ Puts it in between you guys when cuddling.

꩜ “Look after my s/o when Im not here, yeah?”

꩜ When Blaise sees you with the plush he just wants to squeeze you and kiss you.

꩜ Kisses your and the plushies forehead for good night.

[calypsocolada]

THE GREATEST | s. gojo

synopsis: the greatest has taken in interest in you. authors note: hello. rough two weeks huh. there are no spoilers in this for chapter 261 fyi. ive decided us gojo stans should just steal him from his creator. Who's in? also i am pretty sure this is the longest fanfic I wrote. I was continusly writing for almost a week after that last chapter. OH AND the song the greatest by billie eilish is about gojo and its devastating. this fic is loosely based of the song. cw: ANGST, light smut, happy ending (he deserves it), no spoilers, death impications, fem reader wc: 6.1k

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

Gojo had never once questioned his fate. He’s known since he was able to think for himself that he was the strongest. That he was the monster people could turn to to fight the other monsters. He never minded. Not much at least. He knew it was grossly unfair. Knew such a fate pressed on anyone else would have him up in arms but… no one was up in arms for him. No one stood between him and the monsters. No one could. That should’ve hurt him and if he was being completely transparent and honest… it used to. When he was a teen and wasn’t able to hide his emotions as well as he could now. He was a weapon to everyone in the jujutsu society. A weapon and a monster and a savior and the greatest that ever lived. He was revered by his fellow colleagues. Was cheered by his students. He was the greatest weapon to ever live. 

But not to you. Not in the ways that mattered to most at least.

A measly second grade sorcerer with little to no battle experience. One that spends her time mostly in the background. Wasting away with Ino. Annoying Nanami. Steering clear of the greatest. When you first came around Gojo was sort of intrigued with you. You were quite pretty, smart and had a smile that made others smile. Gojo liked that about you. He’d do his usual routine… It usually worked. Usually… Gojo would annoy you, he’d try and charm you, he’d flex his powers in front of you and buy you sweets you didn’t ask for. Nothing worked.

When he flirted you’d make this face and although he liked the face you’d make he knew you weren’t impressed with him. It was like you saw right through his bravado. Saw right through the mask he wore, right down to the raw center of him. He knew you saw something sad. He tried to ignore it. Tried to misdirect your intuition but god you were persistent. You were smart. Smarter than anyone he’d ever known. And empathic as hell. It was frustrating. Not a single soul saw him the way you did. And it was all for nothing. You didn’t like him the way he’d come to hopelessly like you. And it wasn’t for lack of trying.

Gojo really tried to make you laugh but you never laughed when he wanted you to, never laughed when he made an effort to. You only laughed when he least expected it. Never when he was loud and boisterous but rather in quiet moments. Moments when he forgot to act like the greatest. Moments when he was Gojo Satoru and not the greatest. That’s how he knew you saw right through him. 

There was an instance when you completely threw him into a crisis. It was after a particularly gruesome fight. After all was said and done people clapped him on the back, congratulating him on another easy win. Gojo approached you, hoping for that same kind of hollow congratulations but you didn’t give it to him. You asked him if he was alright. Gojo remembered just standing there, remembering the full ache in his chest, the way you looked up at him with concern. No one ever was concerned for him. He replied something jovial. “Of course, don’t you know who you’re talking to?” And he smiled. But you didn’t return that smile as though he reassured you, you smiled sympathetically and replied.

“Must've forgot.” And then you slipped away. Gojo watched you walk away. Watch Ino run up and grab you by the shoulders. Watched you laugh freely and shake your head at something he said before the two of you left. 

A week later Gojo had conned Nanami into having some drinks with him. They sat beside each other, Gojo talking to fill up the dead space and Nanami chugging his third drink. 

“Are Y/n and Takuma dating?” Gojo had slipped into the conversation. Nanami gave him a sideways look. 

“I don’t know.” Nanami replied after a moment, it sounded more like ‘I don’t care’. 

“You’re with them all the time.”

“They’re with me. They bug me.” Nanami sees straight as Gojo sighs. 

“So they bug you. But do they do it together?”

“What a stupid question.” Nanami admonishes, shaking his head. “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious.”

“About Y/n?” Nanami asked and Gojo couldn’t help but look over at him. Nanami wasn’t much of a gossiper, he listened but that was the extent of it. Nanami softly chuckled at the older man’s response and shook his head once more. “No.”

“No, what?”

“They’re not together.”

That was all Gojo needed. He’d never felt threatened before but after seeing you and Takuma together the other day it made him wonder. Well, more than wonder if his lack of sleep the night before proved anything.

The next time Gojo saw you, you were having a quiet lunch in the courtyard. You had a book held lazily in your hand, the other popping grapes into your mouth. Gojo sighed, he’d tried talking to you many times before but his showboating kept you further than arms length. But if he didn’t have his ego to hide behind… What did he have? 

“It’s creepy to watch girls eating from afar.” You called over your shoulder. Gojo startled at the sound of your voice, his heart thumping unsteadily in his chest. You turned and when your eyes met his knees almost buckled. He thought for a moment, after his cheeks flushed red, that you smiled. It was a small smile, the corner of your lips barely turning up before you turned back away from him and to your book. He’d talked up many girls. But none of them made him stumble like you did. Nevertheless, Gojo walked forwards to you. 

“Thought you were out on a mission?” He asked as you flipped the page of your book, not meeting his eyes. 

“Keeping tabs on me?” She asked lazily as Gojo felt his throat tighten. He cleared it and shook his head. 

“Just something I was told.” He says and you scoot over, patting the spot beside you. Gojo stood there stuck for a moment. You usually couldn’t get away from him fast enough but here you were, inviting him to spend a moment with you. You looked up when he didn’t take your offer and cracked a brow up.

“Are you busy?” You asked. Gojo instantly shook his head, coming out of his little stuttered trance. He sat down beside you and reached for some of your grapes without asking. You didn’t say anything about it, just placed your bookmark in your book and sat it down on the blanket you’d spread out. “I wanted… to ask you something?” You said after a beat. Gojo’s eyes flicked to yours and up this close he noticed two things, your eyes had specks of gold in them and there was the lightest dusting of freckles across the top of your nose. He realized he was staring at you too long and recovered by grabbing more grapes. 

“Hmm, what is it?” He asks as he pops a few in his mouth. 

“Do you like sorcery?” The question hung in the air for a moment. Gojo was silent. He’d… never thought about if he liked it before. Never thought about whether these powers he possessed was something he truly wanted or if it was something he needed. 

“Why- do you ask?” Gojo asks, his eyes fixed straight ahead rather than on you. 

“Just curious.” You said softly. Gojo couldn’t help but look over at you now. 

“Of course I like it. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” He answered and the words tasted sour in his mouth. And just like before you gave him that look, just a small squint of the eyes, your lips pursing barely. He could tell straight away that you heard his lie. You hummed as though intrigued and shifted your stare to be less piercing. 

“What’s so great about it?” You asked as Gojo swallowed. 

“I’m good at it. I’m the strongest.”

“Yes… everyone is aware you’re the strongest, Satoru.” You brushed off, slightly playfully. Gojo couldn’t get over you saying his name. Saying it that way, with the tiniest emotion in your voice, what he hoped was affection. 

“Are you?” Gojo asked. You raised a brow, cocking your head just slightly. 

“Am I what?”

“Aware that I’m the strongest.” He says as you blow out a laugh. A laugh, he made you laugh. He recorded it in his mind. He knew he’d probably not get another one of those in a while. 

“You don’t let anyone forget it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You go out of your way to prove it. You kill curses that other sorcerers can easily take care of. You put yourself in harm's way over and over again just to get a slap on the back. Of course I know you’re the strongest.” 

“I don’t do it for a slap on the back.” Gojo dismisses. 

“Why do you do it?”

“Because I have to.”

“Because you have to?” You echo and Gojo nods his head. You stare at him for a moment, before responding. “Cause you’re the strongest.” You didn’t say it as though it was a good thing, you said it as though it was his burden. Something heavy that weighed on his shoulders. It hit him deep. You knew him too well. He felt overexposed at this moment. 

“I don’t see anyone else riding my level.” He says, hoping he sounded level, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray him. 

“No one’s doubting your skill, Satoru.”

“You seem as though you doubt it.” 

“I doubt your intentions.”

“My intentions? What do you think I’m secretly going to let curses in to kill all of you?” He laughs sardonically, a little bitterly. Bitter that she saw him in a worse way than he originally thought. You laughed again, it was more of an exhale through the nose but it was another laugh. Two in one day. 

“No. I don’t think that.”

“What do you think?” Gojo couldn’t help but sound the smallest bit desperate. This is the most you two have kept up a conversation and he didn’t want it to end. He wanted to talk to you all day, maybe all night, although that was entirely too much to ask for. It's not like he ever asked for anything for himself before. But he wanted this badly. A normal conversation with someone who seemingly didn’t hold him up on a pedestal. 

“I told you already.” You said, reaching for your book. It was like an unspoken end to the conversation. But Gojo didn’t want it to end. 

“Please, don’t,” He says suddenly and your hand pauses on the spine of your book. You looked over at him and Gojo knew he wasn’t fast enough to cover the desperation. You swallowed and fixed him with a look. 

“I think you’re the strongest sorcerer to ever live.” You spoke as though any louder and someone would overhear you. Your voice soft and eyes piercing into his. His heart stuttered at your words. To know you did think of him. He glanced at your lips as they parted to speak another sentence. “But that’s all you think you are. Just the strongest weapon. Not a person with thoughts and feelings.” You say and Gojo can’t help but stare, can’t help but know he never tricked you, not one bit. 

“That’s… dark.” He tried to laugh, and tried to lighten the mood. You gave him a smile, one that stuttered his heart. 

“Sure is.” You affirmed. Your hand let go of your book as you reached in your cooler and grabbed two drinks out, offering him one. Slowly he took it. “Or maybe I’m wrong.” You say before taking a sip. “Maybe it’s not that deep.” Gojo takes a sip of his own drink and stays silent. Unsure of whether to bear his heart to you or keep quiet. The strongest would keep quiet. He’d bottle things up, after all being strong means you can take care of yourself. But Gojo found himself wanting to spill his darkest secrets to you. The cunning sorcerer that calls him out. The one he can’t look away from. 

“Maybe.” He says finally and the moment is over. He feels hollow. Especially with the way you glance at him, as though somewhat disappointed that there wasn’t more to him but a smiling face and quick witted words. The age old question came back to him. 

Are you strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo? Or are you Satoru Gojo because you are the strongest? 

Was strength a part of his identity or was his entire being centered on strength? He certainly didn’t want it to be everything he was but that’s all most people saw when they looked at him. Gojo drank another drink and leaned back on his hands. 

“Do you ever think of what you would be if you weren’t a sorcerer?” He asked suddenly. Your eyes cut over to him as you lowered your drink from your lips. It was clear you weren’t expecting that question but at the same time you knew exactly what to say. 

“I’m a shit sorcerer.” You said self-deprecatingly. “So I think about it all the time.”

“You’re not so bad.” He says as you turn to look at him. There was a hint of a smirk on your lips. 

“Liar.” You admonished jokingly, barely shaking your head. “I know my flaws.” 

“What flaws?”

“Alright, sweet talker.”You laughed and Gojo could swear he saw a hint of red on your cheeks. You shook your head as though to keep yourself from laughing more. So this is what it was like? This is who Takuma got to sit and joke around with all day long? Gojo felt sickly jealous when that thought crossed his mind. That he’d wasted all this time trying to flirt with you when he could’ve just talked to you. Sure he still wanted more than what you’d probably give him but this slightest bit of attention could probably keep him afloat for months. You ran a hand through your hair and sighed. “You know… I haven’t told anyone this but… I’ve been thinking of quitting.” You said. Gojo couldn’t help but react. Quit? Is that something you could just do? 

“And do what?” 

“My parents own a coffee shop back in America, they wanted me to work there out of high school but… you know this seemed more exciting. Now the prospect of fixing someone's coffee seems more exciting than facing some horrific curses.” You explained as Gojo smiled softly, nodding his head along to your words. He thought about it. Thought about coming into work, you waved him over as you explained some gossip about the other workers. Him tying your apron on and kissing your cheek, you ruffling his hair and smiling up at him. Fixing coffee for a living. Would he be the greatest at that? “I think…” you started, snapping him out of his reverie. “I think I might do that.” Gojo’s brows shot up. 

“Hmm?”

“Fix coffee. I was good at it in high school. And… I miss my family. I’ve lived too far for too long.” You said, a dreamy far off look in your eyes. Gojo can’t help but feel sort of lost. You leaving was something he never expected. People didn’t leave the Jujutsu world unless it was in a body bag. Gojo didn’t know there was another way. 

“You’ve never told anybody else this?” Gojo asks as you look over at him, the ghost of a sweet smile on your lips. 

“You’re… easier to talk to than I thought.” You said and Gojo raised his brows. 

“What do you mean?” He asks softly. 

“I just mean… easier to talk to than before. Before when you’d flirt with me incessantly.” You joke as Gojo reddens. He thought you hadn’t even noticed his attempts but not only did you notice but you avidly avoided him. Gojo bites hit to, cheeks blushing in embarrassment at this revelation. 

“I’m… sorry.” He bleated, shaking his head. You laughed, biting your lip. 

“I didn’t necessarily say I didn’t enjoy... some of it.” You said and when Gojo looked over at you, eyes hopeful Takuma called out across the lawn. You looked at the other man as he pointed to his watch and waved you over to hurry. “Oh shit. Sorry, Satoru. Gotta get going.” You said jumping up. Gojo followed, helping you gather your stuff up. When he handed you the blanket your hand brushed against his sending chills across his body. You gave him a kind smile and waved as you went to meet with Takuma. Gojo stared for a moment before his feet moved on their own. 

“Wait… Y/n,” he called out as you slowed, turning. “If you leave… to go home. I’d like to visit… sometime.” He stumbled through his words, you made him feel like a teenager again.  You gave him a look, an amused look, eyes lighting up. 

“Anytime, I’ll fix you my favorite.” You said and then you turned and met with Takuma. 

Gojo thought about that day all week long. Your voice swimming through his mind. How pretty you looked when he made you laugh. He didn’t flirt, or crack jokes the entire time. He just talked to you. And you seemed to like that. You seemed to like the real him. Not the him he plays up for everyone else. He thought himself into a hole so he got out of bed and winded his way through the hallways towards the lounge, a nice cup of hot tea might help him settle down. When he pushed the door open there you were. Sat at a table, sipping from one of Nanami’s cups. Gojo couldn’t help but show surprise on his face at seeing you up this late. You looked up and when your eyes met Gojo’s words died on his lips. 

“Can’t sleep?” You asked as Gojo cleared his throat, nodding his head. “Me neither.” You remarked with a gentle shrug of your shoulders. Gojo fixed himself a cup of tea and sat down across from you. 

“Why can’t you sleep?” He asked. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. 

“I got a flight in the morning. I’m sort of— uncomfortable with flying.” You said as Gojo couldn’t help but softly smile at you. It was endearing to him that you’d lose sleep over something like that. You gave him a look and barely smirked, shaking your head.

“Where you headed?” He asks. The smile on your lips slightly falters. 

“You didn’t hear?” You ask as Gojo’s brows furrow. He shakes his head. “I did it. Like we talked about a week or so ago. I’m headed home.” You say and Gojo can’t help but let his lips fall open in surprise again. Thinking about it was one thing but doing it so soon had his stomach in knots. You stared at him, drinking in his minuscule reactions. “Today was my last day.” You added as though that would soothe the pain in his chest. He couldn’t look up any longer so he let his eyes fall on his steaming cup of tea. 

“Oh.” Was all he said. Anything more would’ve been too revealing. 

“I— meant to tell you but… you’re so busy all the time.” You said and Gojo looked up then. You didn’t owe him your apologies. 

“It’s fine. You— we talked about it. I just didn’t think you’d want to leave so soon.”

“I’ve been itching to leave for months.” You said with a small turn of your lips. “This job isn’t for the weak and although I’m not entirely terrible I’m not exactly good either.” You laughed. Gojo shook his head, he disagreed with that both times you said it, but he didn’t voice it this time cause it seemed you understood. “It might be childish but I just miss home.” You sigh as Hojo shakes his head immediately. 

“It’s not childish.” He says and finally your guys' eyes meet. You’d be gone in the morning for good and Gojo hadn’t so much as gotten to know you passed a few brief talks. He felt slighted. It was his fault of course but he couldn’t help the bitter feeling that left him wanting more. 

“I… wish we could’ve talked like this sooner, we could’ve been friends.” You said and it was like the nastiest stake to the heart. He knew you didn’t mean it to hurt him because you didn’t know how he felt and he couldn’t only blame himself for that. 

“I do too.” He said softly. You two couldn’t look away from one another. Something dangerous growing, some tension that kept you rooted in this moment. Gojo was the strongest but you never really saw him with anyone. Sure he’d occasionally have drinks with Nanami but for the most part he was alone. It felt stupid to feel anything now, with you leaving in the morning. And unbeknownst to Gojo you had something that formed over the few years you knew him. He intrigued you, he was so strong so sure of himself one moment but there was this look in his eyes. Like a scream for help. He was constantly sent on missions alone, he’d come back battered and bruised and smiling, a smile so fake to you but so real to the others that couldn’t see past it.

You tried once, pathetically, to ask him if he was alright and stupidly gave up when he kept that mask up. You just didn’t want to step over a line and push him further away. But the years you spent here you were unknowingly doing it anyways. Dodging his obvious attempts at flirting because you weren’t sure if they were sincere or not and you couldn’t stand the thought of getting hurt. But here you were, hours away from never seeing this man again. You lied about being afraid of flights, you flew many times. The reason you couldn’t sleep was because of the ‘what if?’. What if you had flirted back years ago? Would you be hurt and jaded towards him? Or wouldn’t you have cracked through something deeper? Would you two be together? Would you be here? Watching him being used by a society that doesn’t care for him or would you steal him away from all this? Take him home and have him fix coffee at your side. Would he be happy or would he be bored? Gojo’s eyes glanced at the clock on the stove.

“It’s getting late. You should try to sleep so you don’t miss your flight.” He said, drinking the last of his tea. 

There was some sort of finality to that. You nodded your head, drinking the rest of yours as well. You stood up and walked to the sink, running water and washing your cup. When you turned the water off and dried your hands, Gojo approached. He sat his mug in the sink. He paused for a moment, as if contemplating something then spoke in an almost whisper. 

“Fuck it.” Before you could begin to ask he turned, hands sliding over your cheeks and bent to press his lips gently against yours. You froze. The kiss was unexpected and stomach achingly tender. Gojo kissed you as though he loved you. With gentleness and persistence. He stepped closer, your body trapped between his own and the counter. 

No, no, no… you thought. 

Why kiss me when I’m leaving? 

But there wasn’t a bone in you that didn’t want this and the revelation was anything but not obvious. You’d know with startling accuracy that you wanted this to happen. You just wished it would’ve happened sooner. You felt the kiss deepen. Gojo ducking his head ever so closer. One hand trailing down from your face, light fingers dancing down your shoulder, past your arm around your hip, fingers gripping and pulling you flush against him. You made a soft noise, your stomach bottoming out as Gojo’s mouth cracked yours open. His hand slid beneath your butt and with ease he picked you up with that one hand and sat you carefully on the counter. The hand on your cheek slid behind your head so you didn’t bump against the cabinets. You two stay like that for a while, feeling out the boundaries that were breaking by the second.

Gojo brushes a lock of hair behind your ear and trails kisses from your lips to your cheek to your jaw and neck. Your head falls back and to the side, your hands softly gripping the front of his shirt, something to keep you the least bit grounded in the moment. You needed to be grounded while Gojo was absolutely drunk on you. He couldn’t believe this was happening, all he knew was that he wouldn’t squander this moment. When you left he wanted you to remember him. You shiver at the sudden more feverish kisses and slide your cold hand beneath his shirt. Gojo doesn’t even jump, he makes a low sound in the back of his throat.

His grip on your hip tightening just slightly before sliding around your back, his warm fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt. You arched closer to him as he moved his lips back to yours, you met his lips with the same fevered kisses as him. You gently tugged Gojo’s shirt up and he moved away from your lips temporarily to let you tug his shirt over his head. His body was scared and lean, you traced a few of his scars with a light tip of the finger and when you looked back up at him he was looking at you with a curious expression. You cleared your throat. 

“Do you want to do this now? Here?” You asked, gesturing to the dimly lit lounge. 

“Do you?” He turned it back on you, his voice wrecked with wanting. You could see the answer clearly in his eyes, he didn’t care where you two were. He’d want you regardless. You thought about it. Was it meaningless to do it here? Would it be better to take him to your room? You were leaving for good in the morning, would it be a mistake to have a one night stand with the strongest? But the wording of one night stand seemed cruel, seemed so unlike what you two were actually doing. It felt deeper. And if it was deeper, were you going home tomorrow with a torn heart? Your hands were still on his stomach, still pressed near a scar. You did want this… but you couldn’t want it. That was the thing all along. Satoru Gojo was going to get himself killed one day. Sure he was the strongest but you could see him wearing down. The scars weren’t healing, he looked tired. Getting involved with him was insuring yourself of a broken heart. You sighed and shook your head. 

“We… shouldn’t.” You said and you couldn’t look up at him. You didn’t want to see how he would react. If you did look up at him you’d see just how much two words could break Satoru Gojo. He couldn’t mask it anymore. He wanted so badly to mean more to you. He wanted to be bare in front of you and for you not to flinch away. But you were flinching away and he knew it. It made him sick. Gojo grabbed his shirt and pulled it back on. Your hands fell away from him as you slid off the counter top. 

“Can… I ask why?” He said and you knew it wasn’t about sleeping together. It was the deeper sort of question. 

“Cause you’d break my heart.” You answered simply. Gojo looks at you. Break your heart? He’d rather die than do that. 

“What do you mean?” He asked, his voice soft, he wasn’t angry, just wanted to understand. 

“You’re… Satoru Gojo,” you gestured. “You’re the strongest. The greatest sorcerer. You… don’t make time to be anything but that.” You say, eyes meeting his for the first time since your rejection. And then he understood your meaning. 

“What if I did? What if I left it behind?”

“What if?” You asked back. “You’d need something more fulfilling to fill in the gap.” You supplied. 

“I found something like that.” He says suddenly.

“Like what?”

“You.” For a moment you two stare at each other. 

“I can’t… I don’t want to stay here.”

“I’m not asking you to stay. I— I’m asking you to let me come with you.” Your eyebrows shot up, eyes wide. You were shocked by his words. Spoken with such conviction. 

“Satoru…” you said, unable to quite grasp this statement yet. 

“I mean it. I… I could go with you. Work beside you… be with you… if you’ll have me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am deadly serious, Y/n. I’m not willing to sit here and pretend like you don’t mean everything to me. You’ve consumed my every waking moment. You’re all I can think about, all I dream about. I— I fear if I stay behind and don’t take this chance… I might as well just end up dead.”

“Oh...” But his confession was breathtaking. Your heart was in your throat, beating and causing words to falter. 

“I’ll be your friend if you want. I’ll be whatever you want me to be. Just,” he takes a step closer and you have a sick feeling he’s never wanted something for himself as much as he wanted you at this moment. “Take me with you.” Your throat went dry as you gazed up at him. The things you were afraid of, of him choosing to stay, of him fighting alone and fighting to his grave had vanished in an instant with his words. So he was willing to choose between you and sorcery. Not only willing but had made his choice long ago and just now felt confident enough to let you in on it. Not to mention he’d made this decision long before your two’s lips even touched, that was a whole other story to unfold. His feelings for you were much deeper than you previously thought. Those dreams of stealing him away from the people that used him had dropped, real and tangible, in your hands. Your mind swam. 

“Don’t… you think you’d get bored?” You asked, but your head tilted and there was the ghost of a smile on your lips. All the tension that had been wrecking Gojo’s body soothed right at that moment. He couldn’t help but smile. 

“No. I really don’t think I would.” He answers earnestly. That ghost of a smile turned into a full formed apparition of a smile as you laughed. 

“We’ll see about that.” You said and you barely got the words out before he was kissing you again. No warning, all urgency. To feel you again. “Should we go back to my room?” You whispered as the kiss grew slightly more heated. 

“Mhm hm.” Gojo hummed, picking you up with ease and tossing you over his shoulder. You gasped in surprise as he walked towards your room. 

“You’re an idiot.” You laughed quietly. 

“What? You’d think I’d let you walk all the way there?” He asks teasingly as you dissolve into quiet giggles. 

“All the way there,” you mocked with a shake of the head. “Like I don’t do it everyday.” 

“Not on my watch.” He says, rounding the corner to your room. 

“What— what the hell?” You heard Nanami’s voice then and your face went bright red. Gojo didn’t sit you down, just tipped his head to the blond man and kept walking. You on the other hand covered your face and silently cursed Gojo out. 

“You have a filthy mouth.” Gojo said as he rounded the final corner, your room steps away. 

“Set me down you idiot.” You groaned. And he did but the moment your feet touched the floor his lips were back on yours, pressing you into your closed door. The kiss was needy. He must’ve been waiting a long time to kiss you in the first place. Those first two kisses were something but this one was different. It was like he’d rather kiss you than breathe as you fumbled with the lock and opened the door.

You two tumbled inside, Gojo catching the door in his hand and pushing it shut behind you two as you stumbled towards the bed.  Gojo couldn’t go another day without choking out what you meant to him, without showing you. He could feel it in his shoulders when he breathed, feel it in the uncomfortable twist and flip his heart would do around you. Could feel it swirling around in his sleepless nights. He was going to show it to you. Going to convey exactly what he felt.

He pressed his kisses harder, pushed you against the bed. Kissed any surface of your body his lips could find. Savored the noises you made. You spoke muffled against his neck, his name, the sound so sweet and utterly perfect on your lips. He never cared much for his name until he heard you speak it. He exhales sharply, his breath shuddering. He feels your deft fingers slide beneath his shirt again then to the waistband of his pants. You pause and when he speaks a shaky please you slip the pants down past his hips and he kicks the useless thing fully off. He does the same for you and suddenly you both are undressed. Equal, more or less. He kisses you a few more times to hide his nerves and just for a moment lets himself slip into the role of the strongest. He takes the lead, his hands parting your thighs as he trails kisses to your neck. He lines himself up, your hand just barely guiding him, there’s not much thoughts that go into his brain when he enters you. You both make a sound in the dark. Your hands sliding around him to his back, nails digging in there. 

“Satoru…” You whimper and he has to will himself not to come right then and there. He goes slow at first, letting you get used to the size. Your bodies are pressed together, he’s practically crushing you beneath him but you wouldn’t have it any other way. One of your hands grabbed his chin, yanking his lips against yours as he picked up his pace. He swallowed your moans and vice versa. He ground his hips against yours, loving the hitch in your breath. He did it again and again until you couldn’t kiss him back anymore and he couldn’t keep his head up, it fell into the crook of your neck as you came together. you both pull back, exhausted and Gojo’s surprised when you start laughing. He stares at you open mouthed, never once after doing something like that with a girl had she started laughing after. “S-sorry,” you giggled, shaking your head. He smiles despite not knowing what you found so amusing. “That was… well I’m sure you know you’re good.” You blushed. “I just— it’s a bit unbelievable.”

“Hmm? What is?” Gojo asks as he pulls the cover up to shield you from the cold of your room. 

“I was just… very wrong about you. For a long time. That’s all.” You said as you sat up, grabbing your night clothes and slipping them back on. Gojo does the same and expects that you’ll kick him out to sleep in his own room. “Hey,” you call out, patting the bed next to you. “Stay the night.” You say. You don’t have to tell him twice, he’s already practically back in your bed by the end of your sentence. You pull him close, laying your head against his chest as his arm winds around you. “I’m a clingy sleeper, just so you know.” You say and Gojo lets his eyes fall closed, a content smile on his lips as he kisses the top of your head. 

“So am I.” He whispers back to you, slightly turning to pull you closer to him. He feels you hum a laugh. For the first time in years Gojo fell asleep with ease, he didn’t have to be haunted with visions of you because you were real and tangible against him. And he’d never felt more fulfilled, more excited to leave all this bullshit behind and not be the greatest for once.

[cheenapri]

Transactional [Yandere Illumi Zoldyck x Reader]

Day four + five

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

Word count: 13k ish

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

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

Day one Day two + three

Taglist: @alien-00715-blog @rebirthbunbun

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

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

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

He’s beautiful, even in times like these.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, you must’ve really upset him.

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

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

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

That leaves you in your current predicament.

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

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

.

.

.

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

He was definitely awake. 

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

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

He finally responds, “Hm?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He replies, “They are assassins."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Diamox. It helps with altitude sickness.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It makes me nervous.”

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

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

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

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

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

He chose not to force it. Thank god. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, hi?” you’re still confused. 

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

“No, he didn't.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.” Illumi responds.

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

Illumi replies, “Nope.”

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

“No. They don’t do anything at all.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were officially a Zoldyck now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were right, he did not lie. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.” Illumi simply replies.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not a good thing.”

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

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

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

Something was touching you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

None of them except him.

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

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

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

.

Day 5

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You respond nonetheless, “It was restrictive.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He replies quickly, “I didn’t sleep.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cool.” your tone is dull.

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

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

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

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

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

“Feeling better now?” Illumi inquires.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His response was exactly what you’d predicted. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Illumi.” you call out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look up at him. “Huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.

Why didn’t you figure this out sooner?