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accidentalslayer · 8 months

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Word Count: 1,497 (ish)

Warnings: Implied death, violence.

Author's Notes: Health issues continued being a problem and caused this chapter to be late as hell but I finally have it done! While this part of DL feels a little boring, I hope you like it. The next chapter will give us our first peak at Reader so that'll be exciting! Also, health is doing much much better. Let's hope I write chapter five a bit faster than I did this one LOL!

Please feed me comments, hearts, and reblogs if you liked this 🌹You can find me on A03 as: accidentalslayer

Pairing: Yandere!Elijah & Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader (eventually)

Summary: You should never go to second location with William Webb.

Recommended Song: "People I Don't Like" by: UPSAHL

Chapter Four: The Prodigal Son (Part Two)

[October 2nd, 1991

Mystic Falls, Virginia]

"Isn't it just perfect?"

Carol wiggled her ring finger in front of Grace so that the diamonds on her wedding band glittered and shone underneath the dim lamplight. "I told Richard not to break the bank, but the silly man just couldn't help himself!"

"Well, I wasn't about to let my wife run around in a cheap knock-off," Rich chuckled, "What kind of husband would I be then?? My woman deserves only the best. Right, hunny?"

"Oh, Rich..."

Grace and William watched in barely suppressed disgust as the Lockwoods shared a kiss between each other. One that lasted a bit too long for it to be comfortable. At a certain point, Grace cleared her throat, hoping it would interrupt them.

"Ah, where are our manners?" Richard Lockwood asked with a coy smile, finally pulling away from his wife, "We were talking, weren't we?"

He didn't wait for either Grace or William to reply before continuing what was starting to seem like a one-way conversation.

"So, Will. What brings Mystic Falls' prodigal son back into town?? Ready to settle down and start a family with somebody special?"

Mr. Lockwood's gaze trailed (not so subtly) over onto Grace, who glowered back at him, and Will. There was cold fire burning deep within her eyes as she did. Something that was historically never a good sign when it came to Grace. William knew from experience. A shiver ran down his spine. He would need to choose his next words with care...

"Ah, no. I'm happy with being a bachelor," he said solemnly, "In all honesty, I'm too busy these days with work to pursue anything really serious."

Carol scoffed, "Oh, that's what they all say!"

"Is it, Carol?" Grace shot back, her tone brisk and lined with edges, "Is that what they all say?"

"It's how I got my Richard."

"Pretty sure you got "your" Richard another way."

"Ladies, ladies!"

"Uh..."

The tension mounting around the booth could be cut with a knife. William sensed that he'd have to alter the course of their conversation before both women murdered each other, so he began telling everyone about his new job. And the reason why he'd come back to Mystic Falls. It was 50% half truths, 50% outright lies, but either side hooked his audience and temporarily cooled down their anger. Unfortunately, it also inspired Richard to start talking about his (running) candidacy for mayor. A topic that William cared nothing about and knew was going to steal more valuable time away from him. Time he didn't have. He needed another distraction...

"DRINKS!!" William exclaimed, suddenly bolting upright in the booth and slamming his fist down on the table, "We need more drinks! To celebrate the, uh. The-"

"Candidacy!" Grace finished his sentence, giving Will a look that told him she was thinking on the same wavelength, "To celebrate Richard's future as the mayor of Mystic Falls!! In fact, I'm gonna help this dork here order. He doesn't know an IPA from a porter. Isn't that right, Will?"

William glared at her but was forced to agree for the sake of this charade.

"What a wonderful idea!" Carol brightened at the offer, "I'll have a glass of chardonnay. Tell them to use the Grand Cru."

"Just grab me a brandy. Plain. No ice."

Egos sated, the Lockwoods scooted over, giving William and Grace enough room to get out of the booth. Grace mouthed the word 'hurry' to Will as she grabbed her purse and literally speed walked towards the bar. William followed suit, but before he was able to extricate himself completely, Rich asked him an off-handed question...

"Was it really an animal in the woods that night?"

"..."

The only answer William gave Mr. Lockwood was an icy grimace.

"Steve! Code Crimson. I need you to make direct eye contact with me, nod your head a few times, and act like I've just ordered a few drinks," Grace announced to the man behind the counter when she arrived at the bar, "Dick is being a creep."

Steven, the most seasoned mixologist at the Grill, raised a single brow in response while he continued to work. It looked like he was making a Mystic Moon; one of the most popular cocktails on sale this month and a fairly easy drink to put together. Despite this, Steve was taking his time blending in the blueberry juice, grenadine syrup, and gin.

"Stevie, c'mon. Pretty please? For me??"

The bartender sighed, "Grace, I can 86 any other guy who hits on you here, but Mr. Lockwood is a loyal patron-"

"Oh my god, you're seriously taking bribes from Little Dick now?!" Grace hissed, "Traitor."

"I don't see you paying my rent."

"Watch it, now. I'll stop bringing you a plate every Sunday. I know how much you love my lasagna!"

"You drive a hard bargain, Grace, but I was a line cook once upon a time, remember?? You'll have'ta do better than that."

"I'll start playing Fantasy League Football with you."

"Now we're talking!"

"Ugh, I regret this already."

Steve chuckled, then went straight to pretending that she'd ordered something and left Grace with the sneaking suspicion that he'd gotten the best portion of their deal. William joined her at the bar a second afterward, similarly frustrated. The two friends sighed at the same time. Their night was not going the way they'd expected it would...

William ran a hand through his chocolate brown hair. "So, what now?" he asked Grace, "I still owe you an explanation. A real one."

"Knew that whole 'I'm here for work' story was a crock of shit," She replied while glancing back at both Lockwoods to make sure their eyes weren't upon them. Thankfully, however, Rich and Carol seemed to be distracted by another person now.

"It wasn't all untrue. It just...wasn't all true either."

Grace scowled, "Well, it's great to know I can still tell when you're lying. Let's get out of here."

Luck wasn't on their side tonight. For as soon as they exited the Grill, it began to rain. William tore off his jacket and held it over Grace's head like an umbrella while they ran through the downpour to the safety of his truck. But by the time they'd got inside the vehicle, they were both soaking wet. It was a good thing he'd fixed the heater before the trip here. William turned it on, dialing up the heat to high. Blessed warmth filled the air and fogged the windows like blurry curtains. Providing a sort of privacy that he needed to finally tell Grace the truth.

William took a deep, shaky breath in, then out.

"Grace," he started, "I know you don't remember it, but...you made me promise something on the night of the accident. We swore an oath that if I ever got in over my head with anything, I'd come to you for help. And you swore on your mother's lineage that no matter what, you'd help me. You gotta know, I never wanted this day to come. Not ever. Honest to god! But we made an oath."

A laugh came from Grace. She looked at William with snickering disbelief, "What?? Do you need a loan? You know, you can drop the whole act. It's just you and me now. You reeeeally don't have to make up a story to tell me what the fuck is going on. This isn't high school anymore."

"Yeah, I know. Things would be much simpler to explain if they were..."

William reached into the backseat for a package wrapped in deerskin. He placed it on his lap and gingerly peeled back the animal hide to reveal a pair of bracelets hidden inside. Made from pale, wooden beads that were inscribed with strange symbols, they gave off a supernatural vibe. He brushed his fingers over the twin items. That icy grimace revisited Will's face.

"I fucked up, Grace. I'm sorry," he said, turning to stare at the girl he'd once loved, remorse stuck in his eyes, "You seem really at peace with yourself, too. More at peace than I could ever dream of for you, but-"

"You're not making any sense. Just tell me-"

"-but, you're the only witch in the world who can get these shackles to work! The fate of mankind depends on it. I...depend on it."

Grace shook her head, confused as hell, "What're you even talking about? Witches? Have you been getting high again??"

"Ha. I wish," William replied sadly, then grabbed his ex-girlfriend by the throat, "Please, forgive me for what I'm about to do."

Nobody heard Grace Baker screaming that October morning in the parking lot. Nobody had seen her leave the Grill, either. When the Mystic Falls police investigated her disappearance, they'd find nothing conclusive. Not even video footage. Nothing besides two blurry testimonies from Rich and Carol Lockwood that they'd seen her with someone earlier that evening. Although, they couldn't remember (for the life of them) who it was...

Only the rain was a witness to Grace's fate. And it couldn't tell anyone.

#the originals #the originals fanfiction #tvd fanfiction #richard lockwood #carol lockwood #tw: implied death #tw: violence #the vampire diaries #the originals x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x reader #yandere!mikaelson x reader #yandere!mikaelsons #friends to enemies to lovers #and back to enemies #dawn misplaced #accidental writes #klaus x reader #elijah x reader

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buttercandy16 · 18 days

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Characters I'd write for: (Send in Requests)

Rebecca Ferguson

Lady Jessica

Rose the Hat

Jenny Lind

Gwendoline Christie

Larissa Weems

Lucifer Morningstar

Sarah Paulson

Cordelia Goode

Diane Sherman

Mildred Ratched

Wilhemina Venable

Sally McKenna

Lana Winters

Cate Blanchett

Lady Galadriel

Lou Miller

Carol Aird

Lydia Tar

Lana Parrilla

Regina Mills

Rita Castillo

Trina Decker

RE Women

Lady Alcine Dimitrescu

Mother Miranda

Donna Beneviento

Jessica Lange

Fiona Goode

Sister Jude

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yandere--stuck · 1 year

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#cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #yandere cookie run #carol cookie x Reader #carol cookie x you

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rosh-28 · 11 months

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My Aster🌠

yandere thor x captain marvel

(yandere themes,jealousy,possesive,Stockholm syndrome,obsessive,protective,dark themes)

Prologue:

King odin of asgard decided to search a bride for his crown heir in order for thor to take the throne and rule asgard. Only problem was that women all around the nine realms didn't want to marry him because of thor's darkness and arrogant behaviour he seemed to possess. Prince thor patience was running thin. He desperately was searching the right partner for him. One day after captain marvel had lost in a brutal war she fell down with injuries to asgard from space like a shooting star. Carol danvers shouldn't have fallen out of the sky because thor and his family had seen her and will never let her go again. It's like norns have blessed thor with a queen that was bound to him by his side forever.

Chapter 1 will come tomorrow! :)

#Yandere thor #Possesive thor #Captain marvel #Thor #Dark thor #Yandere thor x carol danvers #Carol danvers #Stockholm syndrome #More yanderes to come #Asgard #Yandere loki #Yandere bragi #yandere baldur

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draconic-desire · 2 months

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A Dance With the Dragon I — The Tides Beckon

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

[Part I — You are here] [Part II] [Part III]

The last thing you expected was to have caught the eye of Fontaine’s Chief Justice. You have no choice but to be swept into the dragon’s dance.

Warnings: Yandere tendencies, possessive behavior, forced imprisonment, unrequited relationship

It all started with your realization that Fontaine has some rather intriguing laws.

For as long as you could recall, you had aspired to become a marine biologist. Though you hailed from Mondstadt, you forged your curiosity in the tide pools and lakes around the edges of the region. You scoured over any novel you could find on marine ecology and animal behavior, spending endless hours lost in the Knights of Favonius library. On your thirteenth birthday, your parents bought you a Kamera, which launched your career in wildlife photography and research. You even went on to publish a book cataloguing pictures of your nation’s aquatic life. It came to no one’s surprise, then, when you were gifted with a hydro vision.

Although you loved your life in Mondstadt, the vast waters that surrounded the Land of Hydro beckoned you like the pull of a tide. So, on your twenty-fifth birthday, you parted with your family and homeland, traversing across Teyvat and experiencing its many wonders. You relished in the culture and cuisine in Liyue and marveled at the natural architecture of Sumeru’s forests. Yet nothing would ever be as breathtaking as your first glimpse at Fontaine, at the granite peaks rising above the crystalline waters teeming with life of all forms.

You had secured employment with a group researching the sudden uptick in seal strandings across the nation, taking you across Fontaine’s many beaches. Your main base was located near Romaritime Harbor, which prompted you to spend your lunch breaks exploring the Court of Fontaine.

You made quick friends with the Melusines, some of whom were still a bit nervous being around humans; however, you found their stories of the ocean fascinating and often invited them to join you for lunches or strolls through the city.

One in particular, Carole, had become your close friend after you encountered her being pelted with rocks by a mob of Fontainians. You didn’t hesitate to use your vision to immobilize the rocks and create a barrier around Carole, quickly ushering her to safety. You couldn’t comprehend the prejudices directed towards her and the other Melusines, but after that incident, you made sure to keep an eye out for all of your little friends.

One day, on one of your walks, you ran into said Melusine. She seemed despondent that only a handful of citizens were interested in her hand painted posters, so you decided to treat her to lunch and pastries to cheer her up. That’s when you first caught wind of the Hydro Dragon.

“Well, if you’re worried about the seals, you might call upon the Hydro Sovereign himself!” Carole chirped.

You tipped your head curiously, lowering the cup in your hands onto the cafe table. “Don’t you mean herself? Although I’ve never met the Hydro Archon, I’ve heard others refer to her as ‘Lady’ Furina.”

Carole shook her hands back and forth in front of her. “Oh, no, I mean the Hydro Dragon! He is responsible for keeping watch over Fontaine, which includes all of its resources and residents. I’ve heard that with every sea creature that passes, the heavens open and the dragon sheds his tears in mourning.” She took a bite of her croissant. “I have a feeling he’d be willing to help.”

You tapped your chin in thought. “You don’t say. Well, we are in a bit of a drought, which could be contributing to the beachings… Perhaps I’ll ask this Hydro Sovereign for his favor.”

On the days you were dispatched to Fontaine’s eastern beaches, you opted to sit by the Fountain of Lucine to wish for the Hydro Dragon’s help. It had become a tradition for you to do so ever since your conversation with Carole, for you swore that every time you prayed to his name, rain would grace the shores the next day.

During those research trips, your coworkers would invite you to attend trials at the Opera Epiclese, though you politely declined each time. You had no particular interest in the Opera and were much more inclined to spending your time outside and uninvolved with the court’s theatrics. Besides, you considered yourself to be a model citizen, so the proceedings of the court were beyond your worries.

Or so you thought.

~*~

The incident that led to your arrest was the violation of the order “no domestic pets shall be named after Furina”. Apparently the otter that paddled around the Harbor each morning was undignified of the title of “Focalotter”. You had thought the name quite clever and humorous—that is, until a horde of Gardes surrounded you during your shift one afternoon.

You were detained and led into the Opera immediately, which was where you currently found yourself. You frowned at the relatively large crowd—which, much to your dismay, included most of your coworkers—dispersed throughout the hall. Had they all come just to spectate your trial? Standing alone on the isolated balcony, you felt like an insect under a magnifying glass, an insignificant pest to be probed at for entertainment.

“And how do you plead?”

The deep, commanding voice above you wrenched you from your thoughts. Turning your eyes up, your (e/c) orbs were met with a penetrating gaze.

Pinning you with his lavender and silver eyes from atop his chair at the center of the court was none other than the Chief Justice of Fontaine, the Iudex himself, the face of the law in the Court. Monsieur Neuvillette.

This wasn’t your first interaction with the man.

Shortly your move to Fontaine, you had stumbled across his path. At first, it was just sightings from afar; he would be leaving the Opera, or purchasing a drink (Wait, is he paying for water?) from your favorite cafe. Your favorite flowers also began to appear at your doorstep, each time with a brief, cryptic note, usually something along the lines of To my little pearl —Sincerely, your guardian dragon. You didn’t think anything of it; if anything, it confirmed that your prayers to the Hydro Sovereign had been heard.

Then, however, Neuvillette began to periodically show up around your research stations, claiming to be investigating a court case. Even though the Iudex’s public appearances were supposedly rare, none of your coworkers, yourself included, thought to question his authority, answering his inquiries regarding the base’s activities to the best of your abilities.

You noticed that he tended to speak to you the most, even asking personal inquiries like your favorite drinks, foods, books, and hobbies, and about your marine photography especially. It must be part of the investigation, you rationalized. He was nothing but gentlemanly and always kept conversations curt and to the point, offering you a gentle smile as he departed.

If only you knew the true extent of his desires.

~*~

Naturally, he first caught wind of you from the Melusines. As his closest advisor, Carole regularly joined him for afternoon tea, and though he was not one for idle talk, the manner in which his friend spoke of you sparked his intrigue.

“And when those meanies were throwing rocks at me, (Y/n) was the only one who intervened! If it weren’t for her, I don’t know what would have happened…” Carole rubbed her head, as if remembering the sharp pain.

Neuvillette placed a hand over his heart. “I am eternally grateful for her presence. I cannot stand the thought of any harm befalling you.” The hydro dragon looked out the window of his study to the ocean, deep in thought. “Perhaps you could introduce me. It appears I have much to thank her for.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Carole raised a finger. “She mentioned lots of seal beachings recently, so I suggested that requesting rain from a certain dragon could assist her work!”

Neuvillette nodded, a slight smile pulling at his lips. “Ah, so that is why I’ve been hearing Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon echoing throughout my mind the past few weeks. You have quite the imagination, my friend.”

Carole shrugged playfully. “Hasn’t it been raining more often lately? Seems like her prayers worked!”

That they had, as Neuvillette could attest to.

The first time he heard your soft voice calling to him, he had sent rain the following morning—not for you, but for the seals. His position barred him from forming close relationships with humans, so the notion of attending to your inquiry face-to-face was eliminated immediately.

But when you returned again and again to implore for rain, he couldn’t deny his interest. The day after Carole informed him that his little supplicant and Carole’s hero were one in the same, he knew he had to meet you. He had actually left the Opera to see you for himself; whether he would actually converse with you was still uncertain, but your voice tickled an itch that he needed to scratched.

Neuvillette was an experienced and composed man, but setting his sights on you for the first time stole his breath. This, he thought, must be what it feels like to drown.

Your smile shone brighter than a Beryl conch, and your scent floated around him, sweeter than any marcotte. The light shimmering from the hydro vision on your hip reflected back in your eyes, giving them the appearance of twin pools of blue. You were sitting on a bench by the Fountain, a Kamera in hand as you gestured excitedly towards the screen. To your right was a Melusine he knew well, Kiara, who was clearly enraptured with the technology.

Though he knew of your kindness towards the Melusines—jumping in to save Carole alone was grounds for a medal of peace—seeing it before him sent the waters around his heart roiling. The Iudex was moved by the fact that, despite being a foreigner to Fontaine’s customs, you treated them with the utmost respect, going out of your way to befriend and include them in your daily life. Many citizens of Fontaine still harbored prejudice against the Melusines, but you… You even used she/her pronouns when referring to them, implementing the very law that he set forth.

“I use this for my research on seal behavior and conservation,” you explained to Kiara. “Having pictures of each individual helps us identify them in the future. We even give them silly names sometimes. See this one here? We call him Mr. Sealie, and this otter I like to call…”

When the pink Melusine started giggling over the nickname of your otter, a plan formed in his mind.

Whether attributable to his sense of justice or his draconic instincts, he knew one thing for certain. Like a shining pearl, you must be cherished and protected—and who better to serve than the Hydro Sovereign?

~*~

Those eyes will be my downfall.

Purple and silver locked with (e/c). Despite being newly appointed to the court, Neuvillette was the embodiment of both poise and intimidation. The very air around him seemed to shimmer with power and unyielding authority. His breathtaking eyes swirled with emotions—was that desire or disinterest?—you could not even begin to decipher in your current position.

Archons, help me.

You cleared your throat, hoping you didn’t appear too nervous in front of the judge. “Although I admit to using a version of the Hydro Archon’s name when referring to that otter, I was unaware of such a law against doing so. I’m not originally from Fontaine, so some of its, uh…lesser discussed laws are new to me.”

Neuvillette gazed around the courtroom as the crowd devoured the trial before them. It was baffling how naive humans could be sometimes; of course there was no rule against applying a silly nickname to a pet.

That is, until this morning when he had signed it into law.

Seeing you frightened and alone in the defendant’s box, however, was torture. It took all of his willpower to not to engulf you in his strong arms like waves around sand. But he had to maintain the facade of immovable judicator for a bit longer in order to mold you to his tide. Retaining his mask of composure, Neuvillette continued, “You do realize that previous defendants have been jailed for far less, correct?”

Frustration and fear flared within you. “But I—”

“Desecration of Lady Furina’s name is of the highest offense. Your behavior will not be excused, neither by myself nor the Oratrice.” Neuvillette raised the paper with your verdict, barely glancing over the words before he spoke. “The verdict stands: you, (Y/n) (L/n), are guilty.”

You clenched your fists heatedly. There was no arguing with the Iudex. Clearly, the polite and considerate version of Neuvillette that you had encountered earlier was an anomaly, for the figure looming above you was the complete opposite. Cold, calculating. Distant. A whirlpool cresting a bottomless sea.

Had this been his plan all along? Had you been the subject of his investigation? But why?

“However, because you are not from Fontaine, I will offer you a choice.”

You blinked up at the Justice, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. A choice? What choice did you truly have here? You pursed your lips warily but nodded for him to continue.

Neuvillete raised a gloved finger. “The first: you will serve a life sentence in the Fortress of Meropide.”

A wave of despair seared your insides like a brand. That was your fate? To be trapped beneath the region where you had always longed to live, never to feel the salty wind on your face or hear the calls of seals and gulls again? Surely, the second option was less cruel?

“Or, alternatively: you will dedicate your life to the court. You will abide by its laws without question and with unwavering commitment. You will relinquish your freedom; you will not be permitted to leave Fontaine and will be bound to this place for eternity.”

A choked sob escaped your lips. No matter what you chose, your life’s work and passion would be extinguished. You would be forced to either become an actress in the court’s performance or resign your soul to a watery grave.

Both option chained you to the Region of Hydro forever.

But one option at least granted you a semblance of freedom—a notion that you soon learned was as transitory as a bubble in water.

The crack of a cane against wood resounded through the Opera, quickly silencing the crowd’s mutterings over your sentence. “What is your decision?”

You could have heard a pin drop as the audience waited in rapt anticipation for your answer.

“I…I choose the latter,” you declared, tilting your chin up. You maintained direct eye contact with the Iudex all the while, holding onto your last bit of pride.

You could have sworn you saw Neuvillette release a breath of relief. “Very well. I hereby adjourn the court. Gardes, please escort the defendant to my office for further instruction.”

Two Gardes led you out of the Opera and onto an Aquabus to the city. They informed you that you would now be living in the Palais Mermonia and your duties would begin immediately. When you asked about retrieving your belongings and notifying your family, the Gardes exchanged glances.

“That won’t be necessary,” one said cryptically. “Monsieur Neuvillette will page your relatives and have your possessions seized.”

You frowned, wishing to object, but the Palais doors loomed before you like the entrance to a monster’s lair. You gulped but swallowed your fears, straightening your back pridefully as you were ushered inside and into the Chief Justice’s office. The bolting of the lock from the outside set alarm bells off immediately.

Neuvillette stood from his seat as you walked in. He coughed awkwardly, red dusting across his pale complexion. “Ah, Lady (Y/n). I do apologize for such a fast-paced series of events. You must be exhausted.” He motioned towards the sofa adjacent to his workspace. “Please, sit.”

You blinked at him in surprise. What happened to the unwavering judge from the court? Why was he suddenly treating you kindly? And why in the Archons’ names was he blushing of all things? Unsure how else to react, you obeyed and settled into your seat, with Neuvillette taking his own on the sofa across from you.

Neuvillette poured you a glass of what appeared to be plain water into an exquisitely ornamented cup. You took it wordlessly, noticing his eyes flare with a silver glow when your fingers brushed his own. Gripping his own cup, he raised the chalice towards you. “To a long and dedicated future together.”

You sketched a brow curiously but raised your glass in tandem to…whatever that was supposed to mean. “To not being in prison, I guess.”

“Indeed.” A breathy chuckle followed. “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering as to what this whole business regarding your sentence is.” Neuvillette took a long sip from his chalice. He frowned slightly when you simply placed yours on the coffee table separating the two of you. “Although you may have thought you’d be completing droll office work, your duties will be a tad unorthodox.”

At this, your brows furrowed. Wasn’t that what all those employees you had passed in the Palais foyer had been doing—pushing papers? You had cringed at the dark bags under many of their eyes, at how many were asleep at their desks, imagining how similar you’ll look once your sentence was completed. But based on Neuvillette’s words, it sounded like you would be doing something very different.

Oh, Archons. I’m fucked.

You braced yourself to speak, but Neuvillette beat you to it.

“You are to be my wife.”

You blinked once, twice, waiting for the punchline of the joke.

Neuvillette merely stared at you with his hands folded across his lap, waiting for your response.

After a pregnant pause, you couldn’t help the stunned scoff that escaped your lips. “You can’t be serious.”

“Quite, I’m afraid.”

You shook your head. “With all due respect, Monsieur—”

“Please, call me Neuvillette.”

Ignoring him, you continued, “I did not agree to be your wife.”

The Chief Justice leaned back against the posh blue cushions of the sofa. “Although that may be the case, you are in no position to refuse. In fact, your sentence mandates that you follow my orders.”

You stood abruptly, sending your goblet toppling over and spilling its contents across the table. “Marriage was not a part of that sentence.” Which was ridiculous to begin with, you added to yourself. I mean, a life sentence for a pet name? It’s almost like he wanted me arrested.

Neuvillette sighed and flicked his wrist, causing the chalice to right itself and the water to refill. “Marriage is the highest form of dedication, no? Is that not what you pledged to?”

“I dedicated my life to the court,” you clarified.

“My dear, I am the court.”

You emitted a low hiss, turning to the door. “I’m leaving.”

Before you could take more than a step, Neuvillette moved towards you faster than a crack of lightning across the sea. His large frame straddled yours, pinning you against the sofa. He grabbed your dominant wrist, a foreign bubbling under your skin erecting the hairs on your arms. Your mind reached out for your hydro powers to defend yourself, only to be crushed with the realization that your vision had been confiscated at the court.

Despite your struggles, you could only watch in terror as a glowing silver-blue mark in the shape of a dragon burned across the length of your arm. The leviathan’s scaly body twisted in ringlets up your forearm and bicep, ending in a slender head with twin horns that crested your shoulder.

As soon as Neuvillette loosed his grip, you shoved him away, panting heavily. The mark had already disappeared, but you could still feel the ghost of it under your skin.“What have you done?” you whispered breathlessly.

In total contrast to your own contorted expression, Neuvillette appeared completely calm. He smoothed out his robes and adjusted his jabot. “I have lived for centuries, and I have many centuries more. I’ve merely gifted some of them to you.”

Your body began to shake, from fear, sadness, or rage you did not know. “I don’t want them.”

“You do remember that you promised to serve the court for eternity, don’t you? How do you expect to persist by my side otherwise?”

Eyes locked on the exit, you tried for a different tactic. “Take me to the Fortress of Meropide.”

Neuvillette’s expression darkened, his patience clearly thinning. “I will not.”

Your eyes shifted back to his. Although Neuvillette intimidated you beyond belief, you’d be damned if you didn’t go down without fighting for your life’s hard work. “I want to change my sentence.”

He glanced down at your arm. “It’s a bit too late for that, my dear.” Taking your hand in his, he pulled you to his chest. His form towered over you, capable of resting his chin on the top of your head. “Please, understand. I mean to keep you from harm, even if it means being your jailor.”

“You’re insane,” you hissed, futility attempting to pull away. “Let go of me!”

Neuvillette’s grip was relentless. You stilled when you felt claws ghost up your back in a silent warning. “That is one thing I will never do.”

The fight in you slowly ebbed away—for now. Your resistance was clearly moot, like a gnat trying to down a dragon. You’d have to play the long game to learn how to get under his skin—and how to rid your own of this new mark. “I will find a way out of this,” was all you could promise, refusing to meet his eyes.

A deep sigh sounded above you. Neuvillette took a step back, looking at you with such longing you thought you’d combust on the spot. With one last stroke of your cheek, he strode towards the office’s exit and unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist. Looking over his shoulder, he fixed you with a forlorn gaze. “By the time you realize your place here, there will be nothing for you to escape to. Only I will remain.” He once more turned his back to you and stepped out of the room.

You suddenly paled, realizing the implication of his words. If his declaration was true and you were to live as long as him, then your family, your career, the world as you know it would be completely gone. Your only company, your only solace, the only one who would remember your name, would be him. “Wait, no, you can’t—!”

He closed the doors.

~*~

Neuvillette was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

True to his word, you remained locked almost exclusively in the Palais Mermonia. On the rare occasions he let you outside, the Iudex served as your only company, diligently making sure you were hidden. Your vision was permanently taken, supposedly to prevent danger to yourself. It didn’t go unnoticed when he would wear it on his hip at important or potentially volatile trials. When you finally asked—or growled at him, really—why he kept it on his person, he had merely frowned and replied, “I originally thought the idea of a fake vision preposterous, I admit. I have no need for one. Yet having it feels as if you are constantly by my side.”

The draconic tattoo he had branded onto your arm not only extended your lifespan but also gave you a minuscule drop of his abilities—though only when you were in his presence (and most definitely not against him—you had tried). That allowed the two of you to transport to and breath in the depths of Fontaine whenever you begged to go out. In his mind, it was perfect—not only was the sea his realm, but no one and nothing could touch you. You were his alone to hold, to see, to have.

Those trips were torture for you. Free, but trapped; floating, but tied down to the man who was supposed to be the symbol of justice.

You, on the other hand, had tried a variety of (fruitless) tactics to convince the judge to free you. Any attempt at conversation or advance in his part was met with either vitriol or indifference on your part. You had once tried to charm him into letting his guard down, hoping you could sneak away while he was preoccupied at the court. This plan epically backfired on you when he mistook your subtle touches as permission to devour you with kisses and love bites, covering you in bruises from his sharp teeth for the next week. You wouldn’t so much as let him tap your shoulder for the next month after—the spark of silver in his eyes while he kissed you foretold of a deep, overwhelming desire that far surpassed simple kisses. You feared what might occur if the composed Chief Justice were given the opportunity to release his more primal urges.

And so, each day was passed much in the same:

1) Wake up on the floor or couch of his suite in the Palais—like hell you’d be sharing a bed with him. Oh, how he had tried in the beginning to usher you into bed, into his arms. It was childish, yes, but at least your refusal have you some semblance of autonomy.

2) Ponder on how you would greet Neuvillette that day.

3) Choose between fury or pretending he didn’t exist, typically the latter.

4) Look for a way to escape after he left for the Opera. Fail.

5) Spend most of the day scouring court cases in his office for clues to overturn your cause. Fail again.

6) Look out the window pitifully at the water beyond the Court of Fontaine (were the levels rising?). You often thought of your family back in Mondstadt; what were they told of your imprisonment, if anything? How long had you been stuck with the Chief Justice? The days blurred like ink in water.

7) Immediately exit the office towards his attached suite the moment he returned—any other room was preferable to his suffocating presence.

Today, though, he had chosen to interrupt your musings out the window before you could make your exit.

“You know, I find the beauty of the bright sunlight is best appreciated from the indoors through a window.”

Turning your head from the glass pane, your attention was brought to the figure standing in the doorway. He was wearing nothing but a simple pair of dark blue slacks and a white tunic, his robes hooked over his arm. At the start of your captivity you had mused how strange it was to see him without his normal ornamentation; now his comparatively plain appearance was a daily sight for you.

You crossed your arms and leaned against the window, relishing the heat from the coastal sun against your back. It was nothing like the dark pits he practically dragged you to now that you could breathe underwater. “Personally, I prefer to enjoy it with the company of a cool breeze by the shoreline.”

The Chief Justice loosed a deep sigh as he approached you. He extended his palm, caressing your cheek gently. “If you desire it so, I will rearrange some meetings and escort you—”

Below the waves, where he clung to you like a Lumitoile to a rock? “No need. Present company would ruin the experience. I prefer to be above water.”

Neuvillette had the audacity to wince at your retort. “So you instead choose to wallow in your self-inflicted solitude?”

You wanted to laugh at the hurt edge to his voice. Self-inflicted your ass—every moment of your life now centered on him, depended on his permission. Solitude was a disguise for any reprieve you could get from his constant attempts to court you.

The ironic part was that, if he had approached you normally, you could have seen yourself falling for him. He brought and cooked your favorite foods and beverages, showered you with gifts and books on photography, and tried his utmost to make you comfortable.

But you knew it was as nothing but glitter in a gilded cage. Neuvillette had drowned your whole world. So no, you wouldn’t act like any of this is normal.

Resisting the urge to bite his bare hand, you glared at your captor. “You could simply, oh, I don’t know, let me go.”

Neuvillette’s jaw tightened. His patience might run deeper than the Trench of Elton, but it was not everlasting. “We’ve discussed this.”

At that, you shrugged his hand off. “Can I at least speak with my family? My friends?”

A pained look flickered across Neuvillette’s face. “That isn’t possible.”

Your lip curled in response to his expression. “Don’t act like you actually care.”

Pursing his lips, he settled onto the window seat next to you. Though you were twitching with the urge to escape, he placed a large hand on your thigh, a gentle warning. “(Y/n), there’s something we must discuss.”

You narrowed your eyes, though your heart rate spiked. By now, he recognized your silence as a sign to continue.

“Do you wish to walk around the Court of Fontaine with me?”

Blinking, your throat dried. You swore you heard him wrong. “I’m sorry?”

Neuvillette squeezed your leg in what he thought was a comforting manner. His eyes—fuck, you had to admit they were wickedly beautiful, silver and sharp as a sword—never left your own. “You have been justified in your anger with me. I have restricted you for far too long. I would like to extend an olive branch, if you will—an agreement that we will both retain civility. I will grant you freedoms, but you must adhere to your sentence. Any deviation will not be tolerated.”

Your head was spinning, so you didn’t even consider the implications of his words. He was letting you out. “Can we go now?”

Neuvillette smiled softly. “Of course.” Standing, he offered you a hand. You tentatively took it, more awestruck than anything as he unlocked the doors to the outside. You’d finally get to see your family, your colleagues, the sun—!

Fontaine was unrecognizable.

The last time you seen the square of the Statue of the Seven, the roads were cobblestone. Now, strange machines roamed the paved streets, clearly serving as sentinels. None of the shops or restaurants were familiar—your favorite coffee shop, where you had so many chats with Carole, was now boasting signs for upscale fashion. A Melusine hopped by, wearing a Garde’s uniform, something that you remembered as being rare due to the increased chances of them being targeted. Your heart rate spiked in worry when the Melusine approached a group of children and their parents, only for a stunned expression to hit you when the creature was hugged by a little girl, her parents cooing in delight.

“Where…what?” you stammered. Fontaine had seemingly changed overnight—at least in your experience of time. Dread pooled in your stomach.

You attempted to pull your arm away from him, but his grip on you was steadfast. That same pained look from before marred his handsome features. “I did not lie when I said you have nothing to return to.” The Chief Justice sounded melancholic—he wished it hadn’t come to this, but he had to eliminate any prompts for you to leave.

“No, no.” Your heart dropped. “What… What year is it?”

The silence that followed was all you needed to know.

“How many years has it been, Neuvillette?” you repeated, your voice cracking with a desperate tone.

For once, Neuvillette avoided eye contact with you. He simply gestured towards a bulletin board, where the latest issue of The Steambird (at least one thing was consistent) was posted. You tore it from its pin, choking back a sob as you read the date.

Hands shaking, the issue fell to the ground. It landed in a puddle, its edges slowing soaking and blurring the ink. A steady rain had started to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

It had been over four hundred years since Neuvillette had taken you.

If it weren’t for Neuvillete’s hand on your hip, you would have crumpled to your knees. “H-how?”

Neuvillete looked to the skies solemnly. “Time passes differently for us long-lived species.” You cringed at his use of us, and how he actually sounded remorseful. “But this is our opportunity for a fresh start.”

Silent tears streamed down your face. For what could you do? Everyone and everything you knew was gone. Lost to the sea of time forever. You had nothing.

He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a delicate kiss on the top of your head. “Cry not, my little pearl. No matter how many centuries pass, you will always have me.”

~*~

Neuvillette was many things.

And now, just as he dreamed since the moment he set his eyes on you, he was your everything.

And yet, you refused to drown.

As the years flowed like water through a stream, you began to learn the beat of Neuvillette’s dance. His emotions, his moods, his thoughts, all reflected themselves within the waltz of his life, and soon maneuvering around the steps became second nature to you. The balance of power laid within the count, and you were determined to be the one leading,

The dragon wanted to dance? So be it.

You’d give him the most challenging dance of his life.

#yandere #neuvillette #yandere neuvillette #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #fontaine #ao3 fanfic

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

im in LOVE w your yandere ddlg fics… can i request one w namjoon? 🫣🫣 i feel like he fits the ddlg concept so well ugh

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦:

pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship au ||

summary: if namjoon’s life were a book, he thinks the day his eyes set on you, it had been the start of a fairytale. where he is the prince, and you, his princess.

word count: 5.5k

tags/ warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff, buff bf namjoon, reader is definitely an ipad baby, she’s also very very spoiled, and very very shy, ddlg themes, non-sexual dom joon, descriptions of murder, a few references to literature, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), dom! namjoon, sub! reader, he’s girthy, size kink, cockwarming, belly bulge, dick riding, female masturbation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of praise, and she’s a bit of a pillow princess, aftercare

notes: i agree!! he fits this concept so well!! and thank you for reading my other works babes! and here i present my last post of 2022! if there are mistakes, no there aren’t you didn’t see anything

request rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You were Namjoon’s fairytale dream. A distressed princess locked in the wicked witch’s tower— that was this corrupt world that the two of you lived in.

Him, your knight in shining armour, sweeping you off your feet and dressing you in pretty dresses and jewels just like a true princess.

Truthfully Namjoon liked the classics better, words articulated like poetry and feelings forever carved into paper with ink. Little pieces of each author weaved into each book they’d ever written, secrets between pages and fantasies hidden behind flowery words. Hours upon hours of knowledge stacked up in Namjoon’s mind, useless little things that no one had ever cared to ask him about.

Perhaps romance novels were his guilty pleasure. That sickly feeling you get, reading about two people so in love that you have to sit back and realise that your own life is nothing more than a slow burn. Where truly, you’re the side character that is left and forgotten, watching the people around you— the main cast of the story, fall in love and find their god-awful happiness that you can only dream of.

You see, Namjoon had learnt how patience was a virtue. He’d waited year and years for that love story, for the perfect, pure, unadulterated adoration for another human, like in all those romance novels.

Countless flings and unexplainable anger from all the women who had shattered his heart over and over again had led him to you. Had steered him towards the right path. Perhaps like the yellow brick road, him being Dorothy and you, Emerald City. His final destination.

You’d always been awfully shy. Something Namjoon completely adored about you. Something he knew you were a little insecure about; among other things.

His remedy to your doubt, fucking you until all you knew was his and your names. Fucked so dumb you could only cry, clinging onto him like he weren’t the wolf and you weren’t little red, pure white dove chomped and chewed in his jaws like Carol Ann Duffey had described— you locked in his claws as he ripped away at tattered old clothing.

Past relationships had ended on bad terms for you, similar to himself, because it seemed no one had ever taken the time to read into you properly. Hadn’t taken the time to map out your story on paper and analyze you; the perfect specimen, the apple of his eye, a goddess among humans and his pretty little princess.

So soft and so pretty. Something a little sick, twisted, in his mind that he’d been able to lock you away in a cage like a bird, delicate little wings snapped in two where escape was impossible; thoughts of a life without him nothing more than a breathy whisper in the wind.

“Which one do you want today, sweetheart?” Namjoon’s arm laces around your shoulder, tugging you closer into his side. Your Mary Janes tapping gently against the tile floor.

You peer into the display case, fingers tightly clasped around the sleeve of his hoodie; an anchor for your fraying feelings, anxiety creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t rush you, simply raising an eyebrow at the worker behind the counter who gets angsty at your thoughtful pondering. Line of customers slowly building behind the two of you; and Namjoon can hear a few impatient mutters.

“Strawberry, please” you fall back into his side, weight solely dependent on Namjoon holding you up.

Your boyfriend turns his attention back towards the barista, fingers carding through your hair.

“One americano, a hot chocolate and one of the strawberry cakes, thank you” he turns his attention back to you; watching as you rock and forth on your heels.

“Why don’t you go and pick a table out for us, darling?”

You hum, fingers tugging at his sleeve mindlessly once more before you’re scampering towards a table by the window.

Namjoon feels his cock twitch in his pants as you bend over the table slightly, collecting the discarded straw wrappers that had been left on the table; and he watches your skirt raise a little up your thighs, supple skin taunting him.

He doesn’t bother with whatever the barista tells him, pushing his card across the counter as he watches you; legs bouncing anxiously as you grip the hem of your shirt, finally taking a seat.

He waves at you as he waits at the end of the counter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee thick in the air and Namjoon worries about the impeding headache you’re sure to have.

“Here you go, pretty” he places the tray in the middle of the table, tutting when you go to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You simply fall back into your chair, eyes trained on Namjoon’s hand as he places your drink before you.

“Thank you” you smile up at him as he pulls out the chair beside you.

“You’re welcome” he coos, dragging your chair closer to his own, his neck craning to kiss your temple.

Your smile is shy though your attention is quickly snatched by his fingers that dig around the pocket of his hoodie.

He pushes his phone to your side of the table, hand laying heavy on the back of your neck as you pick it up.

“I’m gonna get a new high score” you tell your boyfriend, turning to give him a determined smile as your tap tap tile game loads.

“Yeah?” he asks, eye smile so pretty you get lost looking at him for a moment. Only snapping out of your own little reverie when he blows on your hot chocolate. “Drink up” he reminds you.

You nod, delicate fingers picking your mug up by the handle, and you watch as Namjoon brings his own coffee to his lips for a taste.

“Good?”

You nod, “Good”

Namjoon’s thumb continues to brush over the back of your neck as you hunch over the table, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you load up one of the songs of your game.

Your mouth falls open when Namjoon’s fingers dig into the back of your hair, tugging your head back.

He watches as your lips close around the forkful of cake he feeds you, endeared smile on his face as a little bit of the cream clings to the corners of your lips. You don’t seem to take much notice as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

Your lips part after swallowing, tongue peeking out to lick at the pad of Namjoon’s thumb before he’s slipping it into your mouth.

“Yummy?” he asks, and you fall back into your chair— game suddenly long forgotten as Namjoon’s thumb lays heavy on your tongue.

You nod, fingers itching for the fork. Your boyfriend simply tuts, “Let me do that for you” his thumb slips out of your mouth, soon replaced with another large forkful of strawberries and cream.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon’s attention is quickly snatched from his laptop when he hears a gentle knock on the door of his home office.

You always seemed to count a few seconds before you opened the door, always mindful that he was often busy; even if he’d made it clear that he was never too busy for you.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he closes his laptop, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not in bed” you whisper, still lingering in the doorway. Frilly-socked feet shuffling anxiously against the carpet.

Namjoon thinks you look like a dream, eyes heavy with lingering sleep, thin strap of your silk nightdress slipping off your shoulder as you curl in on yourself. Always ever so shy, even after years together.

He’d taken his time pampering you that evening. An hour spent in the bath where’d he’d lathered your body in thick suds of soap, sweet smelling like roses that had sat in the summer sun all afternoon, skin warm like petals that had basked in the golden rays of light. Silent promises of a love that will last forever, until he takes his last breath, until the world ceases to exist and his love can longer be— traced under light fingertips that knew your body better than you ever would.

You squirmed as he’d rubbed lotion into every inch of skin your body had to offer— body his temple, your soul his goddess that he worshiped like you were his only purpose in life. Each breath he took, every step he’d continue to take, everything for you.

You’d laid spread across his lap as he’d worked any knots out of your back before dressing you up pretty for bed. Flimsy silk nightdress tickling your skin, brushing against bare thighs, where Namjoon’s hands had the freedom to roam your body until you’d been giggling at him to stop.

His favorite pastime, brushing your hair before bed; his hands those of Rumplestiltskin, each strand treated like intricately created golden thread, gentle as he tugs each knot until perfect.

He’d been there when you’d fallen asleep, bones jelly after he’d fingered you to an orgasm and mind nothing more than cotton candy softness as you’d tugged your precious little bunny to your chest. A gift he’d given you your first date together; and although you claimed you never had favorites , it was always his bunny that remained in your arms as you slept.

And truly he thought tonight he would finish up the last of the project he’d been given, the rest of the week yours; his time cupped in your hands to use however you pleased. The smile you were sure to give him each day after work, worth the pain of a single one nighter.

“I have some work to finish up, why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll be there in a little while” he tilts his head, gentle smile toying at the corners of his lips.

Your lips mould into a pout, “No” you shake your head, voice pulling out a little whiny “You have to come with me, Joonie. Right now”

“But I’m busy, darling” he coos, rolling his chair away from his desk. Legs falling open and he wonders how long it’ll take you to crawl into his lap.

He watches you thrown yourself to the floor, falling to your knees with a dull thump, and he worries they’ll bruise. You don’t seem to care, too pre-occupied with the start of your bubbling tantrum to care about any future injuries; you’ll be sure to milk all of your boyfriend’s sympathy when you he patches you up later. Crying until he’s kissing it all better, and maybe he’ll buy you a gift for being so brave.

He’d seen you scrolling through a few shops online earlier in the day before dinner, rosy-red blush painting your cheeks at a few items you’d hopefully saved.

You hiccup, stuffed bunny clung to your chest as you shake your head. “No, no” you sniffle, “You have to come now” your legs kick a little underneath you.

It was no secret that Namjoon liked to spoil you. Truthfully, he didn’t see the issue— what else was he supposed to do when housing a little princess? If you wanted something then who was he to say no?

Especially when you looked up at him through wet lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks like freshly fallen rain would the petal of a flower.

“Don’t cry” he frowns, heart clenching at the utter distraught on your face; cheeks glazed in saline tears and eyes watery, another miserable cry ready to slip past your lips. “Come here, my precious little baby”

The sob you let out is pitiful, bunny’s fluffy little paw held so tight in your hand as you push yourself to stand. Floppy ears soaking up your tears as you wipe your cheeks.

Namjoon’s hand’s curl under your thighs as you push yourself into his lap, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.

“oh dolly” he croons, “You’ve been fussy all day, haven’t you? What’s wrong?”

Your arms wrap around his neck, face tucked tightly into his shoulder as you choke on another sob. Bunny tucked between your chests.

His thumb is gentle as it brushes over the top of your thighs.

“Tell me what happened” he rests his cheek against the top of your head, mean little smile pulling at his cheeks as your sobs fizzle to little hiccups.

“Work” you whisper, fingers threading into his hair, tugging rhythmically as you mouth at his neck.

“What happened at work?”

You whine, pushing your body flush against Namjoon’s. His hands wander, grabbing your ass as you rock forwards; bare pussy brushing over his pyjama pants.

“There’s a— there’s a new guy” your hips falter and Namjoon holds in a groan as your weight settles right over his cock.

Namjoon hums, “What about him?”

“He—“ a breathy moan drips off your tongue as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.

“He what, darling? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he murmurs, fingers mean as he tugs your face away from his neck by the back of your hair.

Your mouth falls open, and Namjoon watches your eyes glaze over, though this time it’s not tears; and he wonders if you can see how ruined you look in the reflection of his glasses.

“Tell me” your thighs clenching at his tone.

You whimper, “He said a bad word, can’t say it”

Namjoon’s head tips backwards, “Go ahead and say it, baby. I won’t get mad”

“Promise?”

He smiles, endeared “Promise”

“He asked me on a date” your fingers grasp onto the neckline of his shirt, and your boyfriend hums, “I said no, because I have a boyfriend”

“And?”

He watches as your bottom lip quivers, breath hitching in your throat. “Said you didn’t need to know, could be a quick fuck in the back room”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks, “What’s his name?” his fingers skim over your jaw, your hips jutting forward. “Name, darling”

“Jimin” you breathe, “Told Nana, and she said she’d talk to him”

“Yeah?” Namjoon hums, “I’ll sort him out, okay?”

“Okay” you nod.

“Well done for telling me, darling” he smiles, an attempt to ease any lingering anxiety you had. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate work when you enjoyed it so much.

Your hips rut forwards, Namjoon pulling your nightdress up around your hips, watching as your bare cunt drags over his slowly hardening cock.

You lean forwards, lips brushing over Namjoon’s jaw as his hands guide your hips. You moan as the head of his cock brushes over your clit.

“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon’s breathing is heavy, one of his arms tucking under your thighs as he hoists you further up his chest, his free hand tugging his pants down.

Your hand travels between your bodies, tips of your fingers brushing over Namjoon’s slit, precum oozing out the tip as your hand runs down his length.

“Up you get” he helps you, head of his cock running through your slit as you roll your hips forwards.

You bite down on your bottom lip, watery whines bubbling up your throat with each nudge of your boyfriend’s cock running over your clit. Arousal seeps past your folds down Namjoon’s length.

You hold his cock against your cunt, Namjoon’s fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t seem to care all that much as your hips roll forward.

“Inside Joonie” you whine, tongue laving over the skin of his neck.

Namjoon takes a hold of the base of his cock, and you use his shoulders as leverage, chair wobbling under your joint weight as you line up his cockhead with your hole.

Your fingers run through your folds, wetness soaking your fingers as you circle your clit gently, Namjoon helping you as the tip of his cock brushes over your hole. And you let out an involuntary whine as the stimulation.

Your arms wrap around Namjoon’s neck, head of his cock splitting you open as you ease yourself down an inch before you’re pulling off slowly.

“Your pretty little pussy is so small” Namjoon groans. Flared cockhead pulling your pussy taught as you try and ease down lower.

You breath gets stuck in your throat, Namjoon’s fingers gently thumbing at your clit as you clench around his length. Slowly starting to stuff each agonizing inch into your cunt.

You whine as you reach the hilt, hips rutting forward messily. You moan at the lick of please that wracks through your body with each slow drag of Namjoon’s thick cock against your walls.

Namjoon pulls your face away from hiding by the back of your neck, tugging you until your lips mould into one, tongue pushed into your mouth, fresh minty toothpaste coating his tastebuds.

You start to bounce in his lap, childish impatience starting to take over as you chase after an orgasm. Always a little greedy when it came to your own pleasure, using Namjoon to get yourself off before you ever allow him to chase his own release.

“That’s it” he moans, unabashed in his arousal.

Namjoon uses his legs as an anchor, holding the two of you in place, ensuring the chair doesn’t tip over as the back of your thighs slap against the top of his own.

You moan as his thumb continues to brush over your clit, a ring of your arousal gathered at the base of his cock with each jittery raise of your hips.

“Doing so well for me” Namjoon groans, “Always such a good girl, yeah?”

“Mhmm” you nod, bunny tumbling to the floor. Long forgotten as you feel the precipice of your pleasure slowly boiling away in your stomach.

“Gonna cum for me?”

Your thighs shake at that, deep groan of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as you continue to ride Namjoon like it were the last time.

“Go on, cum for me”

Namjoon’s hands find themselves perched under your ass, aiding you as your legs start to grow tired. Muscles in his arms bulging as he drags you up and down his length.

“So small, could use you as my own little fleshlight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he groans, mirth swimming in his eyes.

Meanly, Namjoon pinches your clit and that’s all it takes for searing hot pleasure to wash over your body, thighs shaking at your release.

You hiccup another sob at the burning arousal as Namjoon continues to ram his cock back up inside you, thick rivulets of your slick coating his balls as he chases his own release.

“Too much” you cry, hands wrapping around his wrists as his fingers dig into your hips.

“I’m close, hold on for me” Namjoon’s head tips back.

Namjoon can feel your pussy as it pulsates around his length; you let out something akin to a squeak as you feel his cock twitch.

Mouth falling open in a silent moan as his warm cum paints your insides white.

You raise up on shaky legs, tip of his cock left nestled between your walls before you’re falling back down on his length; cum pushed deep inside of you.

“Oh my baby” he coos, fingers gentle as they brush through your hair, “Sleepy?”

You nod, words fizzling out on your tongue as you yawn.

Your cunt continues to clench around his cock, even as you fall asleep on his chest.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The bell above the door is obnoxious in announcing Namjoon’s arrival.

‘Pages of Love’ the little bookshop you worked at.

He would have gotten you to quit the shitty little job by now if it didn’t hold such significance in your relationship. He’d first met you here, had dates here, and it made you so happy that Namjoon couldn’t bare to see the sad pout that would be sure to form if he ever suggested you left this place behind.

“Namjoon” the old woman behind the counter smiles, waving him over. “I’m sure you’re aware but it’s y/n’s day off”

“Actually, Nana, I’m here for something else” he smiles, expression saddened and the old woman frowns.

“Anything” she nods.

“It’s about Jimin. He doesn’t happen to be working today, does he?”

“He’s on break right now.” She tuts, “Is this about what he said to y/n. I’ve already warned him about it”

“She came home upset” he shakes his head and Nana sighs.

“Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you, Namjoon”

“Thank you” his smile is genuine, though it drops the moment he steps out the door.

And he waits, waits weeks before he decided what he wants to do with the lowly piece of shit that dared suggest you cheat on him.

Waited weeks as he wrote down every sick little fantasy he had about the ways he’d maul his body. Shredding limbs, gutting him alive. Maybe he’d decapitate him and then send his head to his mother, or chop his filthy dick off and make him watch as he fed it to whatever animal is willing to chew on nearly nothing.

Written fantasies weren’t enough. Namjoon’s fingers always itching, always eager to finally wrap around the boy’s lithe throat and make him beg for mercy until his face is red and pride oozing out of his body with his fear.

“I’m gonna be home late tonight, little one” Namjoon tucks your hair behind your ear, gentle smile rivaling your frown.

“Why?” you ask, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“I have a small job I need to take care of”

“Can I help?”

“Nope” he leans down, soft feathery kiss pressed to you cheek before he’s pulling back, standing at full height.

You look up at him, “You can’t go”

“And why not?” he challenges.

“Because” your defense weak and truly Namjoon wishes he could stay.

“I charged your ipad this morning” and your eyes light up.

“Be quick, okay?” you push yourself up on your tippy toes, hands cupping his cheeks as you press a kiss to his lips.

“Promise” he smiles, “Now be a good girl, and don’t cause any trouble”

“I won’t” you wave him off.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see when he finally gets home, a quick detour to Seokjin’s house to wash off Jimin’s blood and a change of clothes taking longer than he’d anticipated when his friend had insisted on making them both tea.

He can’t help the groan that bubbles up his throat at the sight of you. Skirt flipped up with three fingers, knuckle deep inside your pretty little pussy as you play a colour by number game on your ipad.

“Fucking hell, darling” he kicks his shoes off, jacket long forgotten on the floor as he crouches down in front of you.

You pull your slick covered fingers out of your cunt, gently circling your clit as you blink down at him.

“Couldn’t wait until I got home?”

“I got bored” you whine, legs falling open wider and Namjoon takes that as his invitation to run his thumb through your slit.

His hands hold your thighs in place as he leans down to press a kiss over your clit, tongue slipping from between his lips to lick over the bundle of nerves.

You hips stutter as his tongue drags across your folds, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt at the unexpected nudge of his tongue against you hole.

Your fingers tangle into your boyfriend’s hair as he sucks over your clit, fingers teasing your entrance before he’s pushing two fingers inside of you.

“How pretty” he coos, accompanied by a wet squelch. “The prettiest little pussy, it’s a wonder how you fit anything inside of you”

You squirm, finger stuffed into your mouth as you try and hold back an embarrassed moan.

“Not little” you whine, hips chasing Namjoon’s fingers each time he pulls out.

“Oh, but you are” your thighs twitch as his warm breath brushes over your sensitive clit, hours of mindless toying with your cunt bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.

Namjoon kisses over your mound, kisses over your clit, and then kisses over his fingers as they curl up inside of you.

He can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the guttural moan you let out when he finds that particular spot inside of you.

“Cum for me, darling” his voice breathless, as he starts to scissor his fingers.

All it takes is one mean little nip to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge; legs shaking as they clamp around your boyfriend’s head.

His tongue continues to flick over your clit, fingers nestled deep within your walls as he helps you ride out your high.

“Enough” you whimper, tugging his head away from between your legs.

You squirm at the glossy sheen that covers Namjoon’s chin when he finally pulls away from your pussy.

“Well done” his hands run up and down your trembling thighs, “Think you can take a little more?”

Your eyes flicker down to his cock, heavy in his pants and you nod; tongue wetting your lips.

“My good girl”

Namjoon pulls you to lay across the length of the couch, fingers tugging your blouse over your head as you shuck off your skirt.

You tug messily at the back of your bra, and Namjoon smiles, bending down to help you.

He groans, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he palms himself through his slacks.

“God, you’re so pretty”

Your squeak when he bites the plush skin, trail of kisses searing as he reaches your neck.

Your hands fumble with his pants, waistband pulled taught as your try and slip your fingers into his underwear.

“Always so impatient, aren’t you?” he coos, “here let me help you”

You pout at the loss of warmth, the loss of his large body completely covering your own; hands grabbing for neck when he sits up on his knees.

Your hips rock upwards, silently begging for any sort of stimulation as you watch Namjoon’s cock spring free, slapping against his stomach.

Your pussy gushes another wave of slick at the sight of your boyfriend with his hand wrapped around his cock, his hands always had been big; swallowing the girth of his cock when your fingers barely wrapped around it.

You can feel the phantom ache in your jaw, countless times he’d shoved his dick into your mouth, splitting it open like he would your cunt with absolutely no mercy.

“You’re staring” though there’s no embarrassment in his tone, eyebrow lifted cocky and lazy smile tugging at your lips.

“Inside, please” you whine, legs falling open enough for him to slot in place.

“Of course, sweetheart”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut as he runs the head through the slit; slicking up his length before he’s pushing at your entrance.

“You sure you can fit me?” you can hear the laugh in his voice, retort on the tip of your tongue only he chooses that moment to nudge the tip of his cock over your clit.

“Joonie” you complain, “please, need you”

And Namjoon watches, lets you, grab onto his length, watching as you rut your hips down until he’s popping inside of you.

Your walls constrict around him, and he’s absolutely fascinated by how such a small pussy is even able to stretch around him.

“Good girl” and he can’t help the moan that follows.

He’s barely thrusting, gentle roll of his hips feeding each inch of his cock into your wet cunt.

You moan like he was ramming into you, always so sensitive, always so responsive to his touch.

“Feel good?” he asks when he finally bottoms out, thighs connected and heartbeats in sync. It’s moments like these Namjoon revels being alive, being one with you. Truly the closest you’ll ever be to one another; and he thinks he finally feels complete when lodged between your sodden walls.

“So deep” you whisper, fingers skimming over your stomach.

Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders, bending forwards until you’re almost folded in half.

Your moan is breathless when he gently pulls out, only to snap his hips back into you.

Your hands grasp onto the pillows of the couch as Namjoon picks up his pace, your tits bouncing, and cunt squelching with every brutal thrust into you.

“Fucking hell, you are tiny” Namjoon groans, and you whimper as his hand presses down on your lower stomach.

You dare take a look, hiccup of a moan ripped from your throat as you see it. An outline of his cock right bellow your belly button, head nudging the taught skin with each thrust into you, only for it to disappear as he pulls out.

Your fingers splay over it, cunt convulsing around his length as your feel him move under your skin.

You feel it rising, pussy swollen and worn from your previous orgasm. Namjoon seems to know, he always knows when you’re slowly climbing to the peak of high.

His fingers find clit, tight little circles sending jolts of pure, blissful pleasure through your body, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt to soak his cock.

“Gonna cum for me?” he moans between eat thrust, “Be a good girl and cum for me”

The cry you let out is near pornographic, knees knocking against the side of Namjoon’s head as he continues to flick at your clit. Pleasure numbing that when you finally reach your high, your mind blanks, a blanket of fluff consuming you as Namjoon continues to jackhammer into your used cunt.

“Doing so well for me. So close. I’m so close” he groans, fingers finally pulling off your clit as your thighs continue to shake.

When you come to, Namjoon’s thrusts are a sloppy, thrusts barely coordinated as he ruts into you.

And your breath hitches at the final twitch of his cock, he pushes as far into you as he can before he’s cumming.

Thick waves of cum filling you up. He groans as you clench around him, walls still spasming from your own release. And he gently rocks into you, an attempt to push his cum as deep into your soiled cunt as possible.

“You did so well, darling” he swallows thickly, back of his hand wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead.

You whine as he begins to pull out, mixture of both your releases dribbling out of your hole.

Your thighs twitch when Namjoon parts your lips, hole clenching around nothing as you push another wave of his cum out of your pussy. His fingers scoop it up, circling your entrance before he’s pushing them back between your walls.

“What do you think about a bath?” he hums, watching your eyes fall droopy.

You nod, hands blindly grabbing for your boyfriend to pick you up.

He smiles down at you, arms slipping beneath your body to pick you up as he wanders further into the house.

You wriggle around when he flips the light on, eyes stinging a little at the sudden burst of brightness.

“Alright missy” he sits you on the toilet, and you lean your head against his hip as pee, bones too floppy to even think of holding yourself up.

You remain sat on the toilet as he runs a bath, fussy when he picks you up again though it’s easily soothed with a gentle kiss to your lips.

He thinks you fall asleep as he washes your back, gentle as his soapy hands grope your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you squirm at that.

Namjoon is endeared when the two of you finally get out the bath, skin soft and sweet smelling, perfect for kisses. And he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat when you kick your pyjamas away, refusing to put them on yourself when his hands were fully capable.

“Oh my little princess” he kisses both your cheeks, “How about some cake for being such a good girl?”

You see, Namjoon had always been a little bit of a liar. Had told so many lies that truly he didn’t know the what was real and what was not anymore. And if he didn’t know then you never would either.

Every little lie he’d told you from the start, every white lie, every left out detail of his life suddenly seemed insignificant when you were tucked under his chin, sleeping so peacefully, a true sleeping beauty.

And maybe he didn’t really like the classics. Maybe his real love of novels were romances, because he’d always be the prince and you’d always be his princess. A perfect fairytale that would always have a happy ending.

Because if anyone dared scribble out the pages, change his plot, then he would simply erase their existence, and the readers of his life would never know the difference.

You belonged to him. You are his as much as he is yours.

Your life his only reason. Your happiness that little spark of good that still resides inside him. And as long as you come home every day with that same pretty little smile on your face, then Namjoon feels no guilt for the countless people that lay dead, long forgotten by the world as they rest six feet under for daring bring you sadness. Because he’d erased them, with no way to wiggle their way back into the story of his life.

Because what was a prince if he couldn’t take care of a villain that would disturb his perfect fairytale ending?

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #bts requests #namjoon x y/n #bts yandere #yandere namjoon

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abbyromanoff · 8 months

Text

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST:

ALL DARK FICS AHEAD!!!!

No requesting unless I ask please :)) all fics will be part of my own requests that are piling up and if I’m able to get more done I will but I promise all fics will be posted even if late

DAY 1: Dark!Natasha - Delicate

DAY 2: Yandere!Valkyrie - Gone, But Not For Long

DAY 3: Dark!Agatha - Manipulation Tactics

DAY 4: Dark!Wanda - Cruel Girl

DAY 5: Kate Bishop - Boyfriend

DAY 6: Step Mom!Natasha - What Are You Doing?

DAY 7: Serial Killer!Agatha - How To Get Away With Murder

DAY 8: Wanda Maximoff - Follow My Lead

DAY 9: Dark!Yelena - Change Of Plans

DAY 10: Dark!Carol - Foolish One

DAY 11: Emo!Wanda - Eyes Don’t Lie

DAY 12: Dark!Natasha - Love potion

DAY 13: Dark!Agatha - Stockholm Syndrome

DAY 14: Dark!Wanda Maximoff - You’ll Always Be Mine

DAY 15: Serial Killer!Natasha Romanoff - Explicit

DAY 16: Jane Banner - Hate Me? Or Love Me?

DAY 17: Ghostface!Nat - Target 1

DAY 18: Dark!Emily Prentiss - Chokehold

DAY 19: Kidnapper!Maria - Halloween Night

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accidentalslayer · 10 months

Text

Word Count: 1,952

Warnings: N/A for this chapter. Future chapters will explore darker elements, though

Author's Notes: New project, who dis?? Recently fandom-switched to Vampire Diaries/Originals & was inspired to write a little piece about two OCs interacting at the Mystic Grill.

From there on, the plot took hold of my soul, and now I'm writing a fic. Again. Lol.

Pairing: Yandere!Elijah & Klaus Mikaelson x Fem!Reader (eventually)

Summary: Vincent Webb returns to Mystic Falls, Virginia after many years of avoiding his hometown. He decides to catch up with an old flame at the Grill only to be interrupted by his high school arch-nemesis: Richard Lockwood. How awkward for Vince! 🤣

Recommended Song: "Half of my Hometown" by: Kelsea Ballerini

Chapter One: The Prodigal Son

[October 1st, 1991

Mystic Falls, Virginia]

It hadn't changed. Not one bit. More than 5 years had passed without Vincent Webb, yet Mystic Falls was the same shit hole as it'd been on the day he'd skipped town. 'Like a mosquito caught in amber', he mused to himself, a grimace on his face, 'Or something else that refuses to change despite the march of time'. God was not without his keen sense of irony when he made this place, it seemed, and Vincent was glad that he had left right after graduating from MFHS. Glad that he'd gotten out of Virginia to explore the world. Away from any monster that went bump in the night...

But now, fate had brought him back to Mystic Falls.

The first thing Vincent did when he'd crossed the town line was visit the cemetery where his father laid and took a piss on the old man's tombstone. The second thing he did (immediately afterward) was shoot off a text: 'Hey, you free tonight? Meet you at our usual spot, be there in 30 minutes,' to his ex-girlfriend, Grace. The only woman to have ever stolen his heart or gotten him to consider a future in driving a family minivan around. That's how he'd ended up here at the Grill, tucked away within its backmost lobby, nursing a scotch past twelve. Observing his high-school nemesis, Richard Lockwood, as he flirted shamelessly in front of Carol Lockwood with their young, pretty waitress two booths over. No, some things never changed in Mystic Falls.

Footsteps approached his table. A pair of heels judging from the sound of their clacking on the polished wood floor. His eyes flicked downward to spy an all-too-familiar toe ring that he'd once bought for the girl that he'd loved as a teenager. Grace had arrived. And with her arrival, the ache of nostalgia in his chest. Vincent took a gulp of his drink to steady his nerves as she slid into the seat opposite of him.

"You know," he said, tone casual, "I thought Rich was always gonna end up with that Forbes chick. Not Carol. Remember how annoying they were in sophomore year making out during gym? Blech!! But, I guess he still likes blondes. Carol, though? Awful."

Grace rolled her sapphire eyes, "It's been YEARS, Vince, and /this/ is what you wanna lead with??? Not: 'Gee golly, Grace! I'm sorry for disappearing on you when you needed me, let me clarify what happened the night I literally vanished without a trace so I can take the years of STRESS I caused you off your shoulders! Forgive me, I'm a stupid fucking piece of shit, Grace'-"

"Grace-"

His ex's voice rose above his own, "-Grace, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness or your understanding. I'm so, so, so, sooooo very lucky that you're even talking to me right now! Grace, I'm going to spend the rest of my life making it up to you, Grace-"

"Gracey-"

"-'Gracey', WHAT, Vincent?!"

Vincent looked pained when he answered her, regret etched in every wrinkle, and crease on his brow:

"You're right. I'm a piece of shit, Grace. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left you the way I did back then. It's just...some family stuff happened after the accident. And I couldn't talk about it to anyone at the time. I didn't mean to hurt you. Honest truth, that wasn't my intention."

Deep, oceanic blues narrowed upon him. Grace stared at Vincent for a few breathless moments (skeptically, silently) as if attempting to bore a hole through his soul by sheer force of will.

"UGH, I can't stay mad at you!" she relented in a sudden huff, "I'm just glad you're alive. You have no clue how worried I was about you! We were all worried about you! There was a rumor that you'd died, Vince. That some kind of animal had gotten you out in the woods!"

A shadow fell over Vincent's face. He mumbled another apology to his ex, "Grace, I mean it. I'm sorry. I really truly am..."

"That's alright, Vince. It's water under the bridge now," she replied, grabbing the Grill's menu that lay on the table between them and browsing the selections, "Besides, you're going to buy me ALL the expensive booze I want tonight, anyways."

"Wait, I'm gonna WHAT??"

Grace snickered mischievously, then imitated his casual tone from before, "Payback, ya know? It's a thirsty bitch, Vince."

When Vincent met Grace Baker, it was freshman year of high school, and he'd just gotten swirlied by Logan Fell. While he was drying his hair with a paper towel in the men's bathroom, Grace had wandered out of its corner stall, gripping a pint of (half-drunk) Jack Daniels. Wearing that same cheeky grin she was wearing now, Grace offered him some, mentioning that: 'nerds like them had to stick together'. Tonight, the two of them were completing an ancient circle. This time around, it was Vincent's turn to buy the drinks.

Grace made his wallet hurt. She chose every ale and IPA off the reserve menu, then moved onto taking shots. Vincent tried to enjoy the moment, knowing full well that he was going to regret it all tomorrow. One way or another.

Their table piled up quickly with empty glasses, cups, and pitchers. As it did, their conversation grew more nostalgic. Both of them blamed it on the quality of the liquor.

"They hired a better fucking bartender since I've been gone! Do you remember the shit that David used to make for us back in the day?"

"Oh yeah!! We called it, uhhhh, "Witch's Brew" or something like that, right? It tasted so nasty but man did it fuck us up! Jodie could NOT hold that stuff down, though. Remember when she puked all over Mrs. Bennett's rug after Prom Party at the Grill?? And then we had to clean it up before she got home?"

"How could I forget?! Hahaha! I'm still scrubbing burger chunks out of my memory to this day!"

"Gross."

Their conversation grew more sentimental. They blamed it on how long it had been since either of them talked...

"You know, you were the only one back then who I could ever really be myself around. You just got me somehow. It was like we were...connected or something. Oh my God, that sounds corny as all fuck now that I say it, hahaha!"

"No, no, no, noooo! Not corny. Not corny for even a minute. Grace, I felt the same way. I didn't have to pretend around you. I could just be myself..."

"Same! We had our own language."

"Pig Latin. We used to make Mr. Brown SO MAD when he couldn't read our notes to the class. He was such a nosey prick back then!"

"Haha, yeah!! Yeah, he fucking was!! Remember when you literally ate your detention slip in front of him and he nearly had an aneurysm?! The little vein in his forehead was popping out, hahaha!!"

"Is Mr. Brown still teaching?"

"Naaahhh. Fired for taking pictures of his female students."

"Ha! Called it. I knew that guy was a creep!"

Their conversation grew more dangerous. They'd both blame it on themselves (and on each other) in the morning. One of them would swear that it had never happened at all.

"Our first date: do you remember where you took me??"

"Oh man, putting me on the spot. Uuuuhh, it was Fell's Church. We went to Fell's Church because I thought I was being edgy and cool. But you. You, uhhh, you said-"

"-I said the place smelt like raw ass so we left. We went to Grove Hill afterward. To that antique Bed and Breakfast for coffee."

"Yeah! Oh jeeze, that wasn't my best moment. It was the first date I'd ever had. I didn't know what girls wanted..."

"Get out!! Really?!"

"Serious as daylight."

"Do you ever...regret it? Even just a tiny bit? Your first date being with me? I-I know how much you loved Mercy-"

"I would've married you. I would've married you right after graduation."

"Oh..."

"Things just got in the way. Please, understand I never wanted to-"

Grace flinched. The warmth and approachability she'd possessed only a moment ago evaporated, replaced by a mask of ice. A practiced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes curved across her red lips. She put down her drink (a little forcefully on the table), feigning indifference while she spoke. But it was obvious that she wasn't happy with his heart-felt confession one bit.

"Look, Vincent," Grace said, shrugging, "We're all grown up now. We've made our own choices. You don't have to justify yourself to me, okay? Really. You don't! It's been YEARS since high school. As much as I miss it, I've moved on from ruminating about what could've been. And this surprise visit has been great, but... I really just want to get this over with so we can go back to our own lives. I'm missing Movie Night with my kids."

It was Vincent's turn to flinch now. Suddenly, he felt old. Like somehow, life had passed him by in the span of a blink.

"K-kids? You have kids??" He croaked, "When did that happen? How many do you...?"

Grace laughed, "Very first year into college! How scandalous, right?? Aaaand I've got two; an older son and a daughter. Alexander and Dawn. Dawn just had her birthday a couple of days ago. It was Beauty and the Beast themed. She was dressed up as Belle. She's been in a "princess everything" phase ever since she watched Sleeping Beauty. My son, though? He just really likes playing Street Fighter."

"Who's the-"

Vincent's mouth seemed to have trouble forming the words despite his best efforts. He pressed on valiantly, though...

"-the, ya know? The uh, father? Is he...?"

Grace flattened instantly. She sighed, rubbing at her forehead as if she had a big headache, "Just tell me why you're here, Vince. Tell me why you'd come back to Mystic Falls after all these years?? You haven't said a word to me since graduation! No, since before the accident! And you decide to appear tonight? Out of the blue? Just...randomly for shits and giggles? No, no. What's really going on, Vin-"

Two voices sliced through Grace's question and stole the moment:

"It's Vincent Webb!!"

"My, my! It IS! And with Grace Baker too!"

Both Vincent and Grace cringed as soon as they heard the sound. Memories flooded back to their previous lives in high school. And the humiliation they'd suffered together at the hands of the ones who'd just interrupted them; Richard Lockwood and his (now) wife, Carol Lockwood. Grace stood up immediately to leave. Vincent tried his best to follow suit but was stopped when Rich sat down in the empty space next to him, blocking off his escape route and locking him into the booth until Rich decided otherwise. Carol did the same with Grace.

"Well, I'll be damned!" Rich exclaimed, flashing a toothy smile at Vincent, "Aren't you a blast from the past?! I haven't seen you around my town in YEARS! And Grace, lovely to see you as always. How are your little ones doing?? What about that rambunctious son of yours?"

Carol laughed and subtly displayed the wedding ring she wore as she did so, "Oh, it's just like high school again! Isn't it, Rich?"

"Indeed," Rich agreed all too readily, "except I'm not giving this ol' boy here a flushie, hahaha! No, I kid, though. This man took his licks like a man! Isn't that right, Vince?".

Grace and Vincent exchanged helpless, annoyed glances between each other...

It was going to be a long night.

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absolute-flaming-trash · 4 months

Text

Pairing: Yandere!Chrollo x Reader

SFW

Word Count: 721

Warnings: Kidnapped reader, Captive reader, Forced relationship

Out of all the holiday seasons that came and went during the year, this one was your favourite by far.

Not for the festivities or the brash, obnoxious yet oddly endearing holiday traditions that made their way over from the Western world. Those certainly had their place, yes, but you loved it for an entirely different reason.

The lights.

Colours of every shade, limited only by imagination, were strung up on buildings all across the city - wrapped around the rails of balconies and other anchor points like luminescent vines. Trees that lined the streets were specifically decorated with white and blue, mimicking the ice and snow around them and making the scene seem just that much brighter.

It made it all seem so ethereal. How enchanting such a simple thing could make a night otherwise illuminated only by lights belonging to office buildings and private homes. It was almost enough to make you forget why you had the view you did. Who you shared it with.

You didn’t want to go back inside the hotel room yet. Even with some protection from the balcony, the cold bit at your skin making gooseflesh pepper your skin. Your toes had gone numb ages ago, but you couldn’t yet tear yourself away.

In the distance, someone was playing carols over a loudspeaker. The sound made your lips quirk up ever so slightly and you closed your eyes to take it in for a moment. While classical music was all but ruined for you by this point, there was something about the orchestral version of songs that still managed to make you feel… home. Nostalgia stirring in your chest for something that would never be the same again. A place that never existed anymore.

Such a moment was interrupted by warmth wrapping itself around you from behind, hands encircling your waist and reminding you just how thin your nightgown really was.

Your silent wish that he wouldn’t speak and simply look at the view with you was quickly crushed when you felt his hot breath right next to your ear.

“Twas noontide of summer,” Chrollo began, “and mid-time of night; and stars, in their orbits, shone pale ‘ore the night.”

“Must you always do that?” You asked, cutting his recitation off before he could complete it fully. A beat of silence followed, one long enough that the temptation to reopen your eyes to look at him pulled at your subconscious, but you pushed it back.

You felt one of his hands leave your waist in favor of your arm, the goosebumps disappearing under the warmth of his palm. Part of you wondered if he delighted in the little ways your body betrayed you when it came to him. What he provided.

“Do what, my dear?”

“Make it worse.”

There was another beat of silence as Chrollo’s fingers tightened around your bicep in a light squeeze. You opened your eyes that time, the lights coming back into view, but this time it felt different.

Tainted.

He squeezed your arm again.

“You’re cold. Come back in, there are plenty of blankets for you.”

A frown threatened to tug at your lips, but you hid it well. At least you thought you did. If there was one bright side to being the object of Chrollo’s affection, it was learning the skill of hiding what you truly felt.

Not like it mattered much, anyway.

“Do I have to?”

Another squeeze on your arm. Firmer. Non-negotiable.

“You’ll catch cold.”

A surprising reason, you thought. With how much he lingered and leered, you figured he’d delight in any occasion that would result in you depending upon and relying on him more.

Attempting to think about any other reason as to why he wouldn’t want for something like that only served to give you a headache, so you nodded once - turning your body to face his.

“Excellent.” You could hear the pleasantry in his tone hidden underneath his otherwise deadpan expression. The hand on your arm slid off to reopen the balcony door while the other moved to the small of your back, guiding you back inside.

The warmth from the room that greeted you was ironic in a way. Most defined the winter night air as biting. Harsh, even.

Yet the supposed reprieve of the indoors had never felt less welcoming.

#riri writes #Chrollo #Chrollo x Reader #HxH #Hunter x Hunter #Chrollo Lucilfer #Chrollo Lucilfer x Reader #Yandere x Reader #tw yandere #tw kidnapping #tw captivity #tw forced relationship

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aphroditelovesu · 4 months

Text

The Lost Queen - Christmas Special

— summary: With Christmas time approaching, you have to make sure that peace reigns in your apartment. The only problem is that his companions from two thousand years ago are in it.

— lady l: I know, it's late, but you already know me lol. Hope you like it! There may be small spoilers for future chapters, but nothing very explicit. Merry belated Christmas and a great New Year! Forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️🎁

— warnings: light spoilers for future chapters of TLQ and fluff.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader.

— wordcount: 1,963.

— the lost queen series masterlist.

— taglist: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog , @wisdomcrys , @silmawensgarden .

It was Christmas Eve in the city, and twinkling lights decorated the streets, transforming the place into a spectacle of vibrant colors. The tall buildings sparkled with festive garlands and decorations, reflecting the Christmas spirit that enveloped everyone.

In the central squares, a special fair enchanted passers-by. Stalls sold everything from traditional gastronomic delights to unique crafts, while local musicians played Christmas carols, filling the air with comforting melodies.

Families strolled the streets, wrapped in warm coats and warm smiles. Children ran excitedly, eager for Santa Claus to arrive. The artificial snow fell gently, creating a magical setting for that special moment.

In a cozy apartment, a strange group were gathered to share stories and gifts or try to understand Christmas traditions. Laughter echoed in the corners, mixing with the aroma of hot chocolate and freshly baked cookies.

It was chaos. Your apartment was in chaos. A baby crying, men fighting about everything and asking you questions that irritated you deeply. But it was almost Christmas and you weren't going to let your bad mood or the fights those men were having ruin that day. You were almost certain that one of your neighbors would call the police if they continued like this.

''(Y/N), how does this even work?'' You turned to the person who asked you and smiled slightly when you noticed Hephaestion holding some rolled up blinkers in his hand. He looked at them as if they were the most perplexing and enigmatic thing in the world. Maybe, for him, it really was.

''You have to curl up against the tree and I'll do the rest.'' You explained, as you rocked Cyrus in your arms, trying to make him take a nap.

Hephaestion frowned and stared at the wires with suspicion shining in his eyes but headed towards the Christmas tree that stood in the middle of your living room.

''(Y/N)!'' You looked at Nearchus who appeared from your kitchen with an empty white ceramic cup, previously filled with hot chocolate, ''Do you have any more of that? It's delicious.''

A corner of your mouth curled up, ''On the stove.'' He stared at you confused, still not understanding the modern words properly, ''On top of the huge iron box.'' You explained gently. Nearchus winked at you and headed towards your kitchen, looking for more hot chocolate.

You ignored the others as you led Cyrus to his room, careful not to wake him. You smiled when you saw Alexander sitting in the armchair next to a crib, with Aella in his arms.

''Shh…'' He whispered to you, cradling the little princess in his arms carefully, ''She fell asleep just now.''

''This one,'' You nodded to the baby on her lap, ''also just fell asleep.''

Alexander smiled and carefully got up from the chair and placed Aella in the crib, stroking the baby's serene face in the process. You followed his lead, placing Cyrus next to his sister.

''How are the others?'' He asked you after pulling you into a hug, wrapping his arms around your waist. You smiled and placed your head on his shoulder.

''Well I think. Cleitus and Cassander were fighting over some ornaments and poor Hephaestion looked like his mind was going to break trying to untangle the blinkers.''

He laughed at your response and pulled away a little, kissing your forehead affectionately.

''It will take time for them to… Get used to all this. The gods know how long it took me.'' You suppressed a laugh as you remembered the first time he arrived in the modern world. Curiosity like that of a child or the time he wanted to attack a car because he thought it was a monster.

Gods, you had so much fun during that time. You would always fondly remember those memories.

''I can't believe it's been a year since all that.'' You mumbled. Alexander caressed your face with the palm of his hand, squeezing your cheek gently.

''Neither do I.'' He replied and kissed your lips quickly.

You smiled, your gaze sweet. Alexander blinked at you, all in love. Oh, you really loved that man. That time when you were scared and terrified was gone, now you were in love.

Hell, you were a woman in love, married with two children. There it is, something you never thought would happen so soon.

"Do you know about Perdiccas?" Alexander's body stiffened at the mention of his General and he slowly nodded yes, "Where is he then?"

Alexander shrugged, but you noticed the tension there, the anger, the barely contained jealousy, "On the balcony."

You nodded and kissed his lips passionately, "Try to be kinder to him. Perdiccas made mistakes in the past, but he doesn't deserve to be ignored or despised by you or anyone else. It was just a mistake and to make mistakes is human."

Alexander frowned, irritated, "I would hardly call that a mistake."

You bit your lower lip, remembering the fury, the hatred that Alexander had become when he found out about his General, his friend, plans. He had been so hurt and so furious, it had been a miracle that Perdiccas was not executed.

A miracle thanks to you, who convinced him otherwise. You shook your head quickly, as if you were trying to get rid of the bad thoughts that were plaguing you. From those dark and pain-filled days.

Everything was in the past now.

"It's Christmas time, time to forgive." You batted your eyelashes at him and Alexander smiled.

"I don't celebrate Christmas. But I can't deny that it's an interesting holiday." Alexander murmured and you stroked his stubble, "But I'll try my best for you."

"Thank you. That will be enough." You kissed him quickly and left the twins' bedroom, going to the apartment's balcony. You rolled your eyes in amusement as you passed by the room, hearing Cassander and Cleitus fighting over who should put the star on top of the tree. Hephaestion called them idiots and Ptolemy and Nearchus just laughed.

You opened the balcony door and immediately a wave of cold passed through your bones and you shivered a little, even more so when you saw Perdiccas sitting on a bench there and watching the decorated street, the cars and the people walking hurriedly.

"Everyone seems rushed." Perdiccas commented, without taking his eyes off the street. His face was pale and his lips were slightly chapped from the cold.

Your heart sank when you saw him like that. Despite everything you've been through, the mistakes you made, the pain… You would always care about him.

Sighing heavily, you sat down next to him, hissing when you felt your legs go cold.

Perdiccas finally turned to you and there was a deep sadness in those once warm and gentle eyes.

"It's Christmas…" You mumbled, not knowing what to say. It used to be so easy to talk to him, but now it was like there was a ball in your throat that prevented you from talking.

Perdiccas just stared at you, longing shining in his eyes.

"I-It's cold out here… You should go inside, you might catch a cold or something worse." You mumbled, curling your toes.

"I don't think the others would like that." Perdiccas shook his head, looking at his feet.

"Don't say that. Ptolemy asked about you just now." You murmured, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Perdiccas laughed softly, but it was a sad laugh, "There's no need to lie, (Y/N). I know how you all of you feel about me, after everything that's happened."

You shook your head, "No, you don't. The others have nothing to do with what happened, they don't know everything. Only you and I know the truth."

Perdiccas pursed his chapped lips, "It makes no difference to them. Alexander hates me and because of that, they hate me."

Your heart ached at how sad, how broken Perdiccas's voice had sounded.

"I don't hate you and neither will anyone ever hate you." You smiled at him and stood up, facing him, "Come with us. It's Christmas, a time of peace and reconciliation."

Perdiccas just stared at your hand as you held it out to him, "I… I'm not familiar with Christmas…"

You smiled widely, "Then I would be happy to give you a history lesson on Christmas and what it means."

For the first time, Perdiccas' eyes shone with something other than sadness. Hope. A spark of hope shone in those beautiful blue eyes.

When he held your hand and stood up, discreetly stroking your gloved fingers, it didn't seem so cold anymore.

The hours passed quickly and although Perdiccas was reluctant, he sat down with his former friends and to his surprise, everyone was kind. Even Cassander held his tongue.

They were sharing childhood stories while you and Alexander fixed the tree. It was a little late to put up your tree, considering it was December 24th, but you hadn't had time these last few days.

Aella and Cyrus had already woken up from their nap and were being held by Hephaestion and Cleitus, who were playing with the babies.

As the night continued, you drank, some wine and some hot chocolate. Since you were still breastfeeding, you only drank hot chocolate.

"So what's the story of Christmas?" Cleitus asked. Everyone turned to you. Even Perdiccas, who had already heard the story.

"It depends on the culture, but the general consensus is that it is the birth of Jesus Christ." You said, adjusting a little ball.

"Jesus Christ?" Ptolemy asked, confused.

"The Savior, son of God for the Christian Religion. They say he was born on December 25th and since then we celebrate Christmas." You explained, after finishing arranging the tree. You sat on the couch, next to Hephaestion and Alexander followed suit.

"Oh…" Cassander said, drinking some wine.

"But the historical origin says that Christmas has its roots in pagan Winter Solstice celebrations, later adapted by the Christian Church in the fourth century to celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. December 25th was chosen as the official date for this celebration ." You explained, remembering what you had read in a history book once.

They just nodded, not understanding everything you said. You laughed softly.

It was different, a different Christmas. You always spent it with your family or friends, but never with men from the past, literally. It was fun and iconic.

"Ah, it's almost midnight!" You exclaimed as you looked at the clock, it was just a few minutes until Christmas. You looked at your children and smiled.

While they waited for midnight, Ptolemy and Perdiccas talked about something. Cassander, Cleitus and Nearchus argued about an old childhood story and Hephaestion, Alexander and you just watched the twins with affection.

When it finally struck midnight, you got up from the couch and started hugging them and wishing them Merry Christmas. They looked confused but hugged you back and congratulated you the same.

They began to do the same to each other. You watched happily, until it was Perdiccas and Alexander's turn. You felt your hands start to sweat.

Alexander quickly looked at you and said, "Merry Christmas, my friend."

Gasps were heard, but you didn't listen, you just watched them. The way Perdiccas' face lit up and he hugged Alexander.

"Merry Christmas, my friend." Perdiccas said, hugging Alexander.

You smiled, feeling tears on his face. It seemed that peace would finally reign again. Christmas truly was a time of peace and reconciliation.

#yandere history #history #yandere historical characters #yandere alexander the great #yandere alexander the great x reader #alexander the great x reader #the lost queen #tlq #Christmas special #merry Christmas

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yandere-writer-momo · 4 months

Text

Baki 12 days of Christmas… an angsty yandere for @justamegafan. Merry Christmas!!

The mc is Hanayama’s arranged fiancée who he hates (at first). A trope I will never stop writing until I’m shot dead on the spot

Yandere Baki Shorts: A Christmas Carol

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Afab Reader

TW: Angst, mentioned character death (spoiler), Yandere, and mention of terminal illness

Hanayama often found his fiancée scuttling around his office like a little crab. She was such a skittish thing, with big, innocent eyes and a soft voice. She was weak, something Hanayama disliked most in a partner. And she always tried her best to get to know him… today was no exception

“Can we please spend Christmas together? Just this once?” Hanayama sighed when she stared up at him with her doe like eyes. Why couldn’t she get the hint that he wanted to be left alone?

“This is merely an arrangement by our families, I could care less about your feelings and the stupid holidays.” Hanayama ran a hand through his dark locks. “You’re bothering me so I suggest you leave.”

Hanayama ignored the soft sobs that escaped her lips and he didn’t even cast her a glance when she wished him a soft “Happy holidays.” The door quietly shut behind her and he went back to work. At least she could shut the door properly.

Hanayama shoved the Christmas cookies she made him into the trash beside his desk and continued to work on his paperwork. Hopefully this was the last time he’d ever have to deal with her… he couldn’t stand this arrangement but he kept with it because he wanted to honor his deceased mother’s wishes. Hanayama knew he could never grow to love the meek woman no matter how hard he tried, she’d break if he so much as touched her. She was far too fragile for him.

When it finally became night, Hanayama decided to retire for the night. The yakuza went to lay down in his bed but the screen door to his room suddenly opened and a cold, winter breeze blew in. What on earth?

“Hello.” Hanayama nearly jumped out of his skin when a ghostly apparition stood at the foot of his bed. The youthful face of his mother stared back at him which left his mouth gaping like a fish. “It’s been so long…”

“M-mom?” Hanayama reached out for the figure but she gently put his hands down. She was as cold as ice… “Why are you here?”

“We need to go for a walk… a nice, long walk.” His mother gave him a soft smile as she lead him around towards the door of his room. “A walk in the past.”

“The past… what do you mean?”

“Well, I’m the ghost of Christmas past.” His mother smiled as the walls of the compound began to change to the ones he was familiar with when he was a child. What kind of magic was this? How was this even possible? “You need to be reminded of your origins…”

Hanayama was shocked to see himself as a child crying as he sat beside his mother in the old family room. The ghost beside him pointed to the red welt on her human body’s face. “I used to beg your father to stay with me every once and awhile… to spend time with us as a family.”

Hanayama frowned as he watched the image play out of his mother. How could he forget that his mother had begged to spend time with his father when he was younger… perhaps he had blocked all those memories out since he had to become the leader of the yakuza at a young age? “This was the Christmas where I found out I had cancer… I really wanted to spend time with him since my time was running out…”

The ghost shook her head and lead Hanayama back to his room once she felt as if he understood her point.

The ghost held Hanayama’s hand. “You’ve grown so much… you look just like your father.”

Hanayama went to hold the ghost but she pushed him back, “and you’re just like your father.”

“Wait! Please don’t go-“ the figure of his mother was gone in a flash which left him clutching his chest in sorrow. Why did his mom leave so fast… wasn’t she proud that he’s taken over the family? Why did she show him such an image?

“It’s been awhile, Hanayama.” Hanayama froze when he noticed the ghostly figure of Retsu standing at his door. “It seems that it’s my turn with you as the ghost of Christmas Present.”

Hanayama was silent in thought. Retsu had just passed away recently yet… why would he be here? Retsu had nothing to do with his life…

Retsu waved Hanayama to follow him and Hanayama obliged. The two walked in silence until they stopped in front of a small room in the furthest corner of the compound. Retsu placed a hand on the screen door which made it into a mirror that they could see inside… (your name) sat in her room violently coughing.

“You know I was her best friend when I was alive.” Retsu whispered as he turned to look at Hanayama. “She’s dying, you know.”

Hanayama froze in shock. (Your name) was dying… she was dying. Why hadn’t she told him she was sick? Why- Hanayama was drawn out of his thoughts when Retsu held up a hand. The Chinese man frowned at Hanayama. “You don’t listen to her so she’s never told you… she needs new lungs.”

Hanayama placed a hand on the doorway when he saw her hold up a handkerchief full of blood. She was so fragile… just like his mother. And he had been so cruel to her. How could he-

“I was planning on confessing to her once I beat Musashi.” Retsu shared with Hanayama as he went into the room and sat beside (your name). She obviously couldn’t see Retsu as she softly cried. “I was in love with her.”

Hanayama clenched his fists as he watched Retsu drape a blanket around (your name)’s shoulders which made her look around the room in surprise. The man turned to Hanayama with a frown. “But my own pride ruined everything… I just want her to be happy.”

“… did you come here to gloat in my face?”

“No. She didn’t feel the same way.” Retsu smiled at Hanayama as he combed his fingers through (your name)’s hair. The ghost smiled sadly. “It’s so unfair… she deserves so much better than you.”

Hanayama was offended despite how correct Retsu was… he truly didn’t deserve (your name). She was always kind and sweet to him despite how many times he pushed her away over the years. She was undaunted by his rejection and still tried to get to know him… he should give it another chance. He should do something wonderful for her tomorrow…

Retsu rested his ghostly head on (your name)’s shoulder with a sad sigh. He pressed a parting kiss to her shoulder which made her glance around the room in confusion. The man then lead Hanayama back to his room. “I’m sorry… my feelings started to get in the way of what I was meant to show you. You’ll be visited by one last ghost, the ghost of Christmas future.”

Hanayama went to say something to Retsu but he was gone in a flash. The yakuza stood in the center of the room in confusion. One more ghost… who on earth could that be?

Hanayama then felt a sudden chill run down his spine as the room before him melted away into that of a grave yard. A ghastly figure in a black cloak that covered their body floated into the room. A skeletal hand was placed on his shoulder while the other pointed at a gravestone with (your name)‘s name on it. No… (your name) would die? She couldn’t die… she was so young.

Hanayama didn’t even have time to think before the ghost snapped their fingers and showed Hanayama a much older of himself who sat hunched over his desk. The older version sobbing as he held his head. What on earth had happened?

“You never found love again after she died.” The ghost whispered into his ear. “You actually went insane with guilt and it made your yakuza family fall apart.”

Hanayama watched this foreign version of him chug down an entire bottle of whiskey as he held a picture in his hand… it was a wedding picture of him and (your name)… they were meant to get married in a few months… so this must be a few years from now.

“I didn’t know… I didn’t know…” the other version of Hanayama whispered as he pressed his forehead against the picture. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry.”

Hanayama frowned at how his office was in disarray. This wasn’t like him at all… why on earth was his office so messy?

“She kept all your paperwork organized. She’d sneak into your office when you were asleep to try to help you out since you’re not every good with numbers.” The ghost chuckled bitterly. “She as such a stupid woman… falling in love with a man as selfish as you.”

Hanayama gasped when the ghost pulled up the hood over their head to reveal (your name). Except there was no warmness in her eyes nor was there her tender smile. Why did she look so cold… why did she look at him with such eyes full of resentment? She loved him…

“This is your future. My future.” The ghost told him with a sigh. “You have to change, Hanayama.”

Hanayama but his lip as he stared at the sobbing figure of his future self. He didn’t want to be so pathetic…

“What do I have to do?” Hanayama asked the ghost who frowned at him. She didn’t say a word as she walked away. Hanayama went to follow her but the hallways began to distort and show Hanayama a different ghost of (your name) who sat side by side with the ghost Retsu. They looked so happy… she wasn’t supposed to be with Retsu. She was his. “Wait! Where are you going?”

Many images of the way he’s treated his fiancée flashed by him as he hopelessly chased after the ghost. Her teary face and bloody handkerchief now haunted him… he didn’t want her to suffer anymore. Hanayama didn’t want her to die… she couldn’t die. And he certainly didn’t want his wife to be with another man. No. She was his… (your name) belonged to him.

“There’s nothing you can do.” The ghost told him as she gave him a soft smile that was eerily similar to the ones his (your name) gave him. “Now wake up.”

And that’s when Hanayama fell into a dark bottomless pit. The large man couldn’t even utter a sound before he woke up in his bed. His body was covered in sweat and his eyes were wide in horror. A nightmare…

Hanayama’s hands grabbed at his body in shock before he gave a laugh full of disbelief escaped him. He was alive… he was fine…

Hanayama shot out of bed and quickly made his way towards (your name)’s room. He had to make sure she was alive… he had to make sure she was okay.

Hanayama slammed the door open to (your name)’s room which scared the poor girl out of her wits. She was already dressed for the day and was shocked to see Hanayama in his pajamas.

“O-oh. I’m sorry. Did I do something wrong-“ (your name) was shocked when Hanayama pulled her into a hug. The giant man pressed kissed all over her cheeks with passionate fervor.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Hanayama chanted as he ran his thumbs over her soft cheeks. “Let’s spend Christmas together.”

(Your name) couldn’t utter a single word out before she was whisked out of her room and brought to the dining room she had always wanted to sit at with him. What was going on? Had Hanayama gone insane? She was going to leave him alone just like he had wanted… so why did he have this sudden change of heart.

Hanayama had his servants quickly prepare a gran breakfast for the two of them. His large hand held hers close to his chest. The yakuza boss pressed kisses all over her knuckles as he waited for their food.

“I won’t ever ignore you again. We’ll spend every meal together and you can move into my room…” Hanayama gave her a soft smile. “And I’ll pay for your medicine, okay? You can get that procedure-“

“I-I never told you I was sick.” (Your name) whispered as she tried to pull her hand away. “It’s okay. You don’t have to do anything for me-“

(Your name) gasped when Hanayama suddenly pulled her onto his lap and pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. His dark eyes never let hers. “Nonsense… I’m going to be a good fiancé from now on and an even better husband.”

Hanayama’s hands began to explore her curves as a different kind of hunger filled his eyes. “I’ll take care of your every need from now on… because you’re mine.”

Rather than change for the better, he had changed for the worse

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