#volo x reader

Giovanni typically calls you into his office, where he proceeds to tear away your clothing and takes you at his desk. He barely even bothers to ask since you should know by now what he desires. Admittedly, he also views himself as a bit above asking for permission.

“Come to my office at once, dear,” Giovanni caught your shoulder before you could leave the hideout. A certain look in his eyes could only make you swallow in anticipation.

Archer just pulls you aside and takes you on whatever surface is nearest. You are his assistant, basically, so he sees little reason to ask permission either. Giovanni instilled some bad traits into him.

“You. With me. Now,” Archer had your wrist in a death grip before you could even stray too far from his side. His jaw was clenched in frustration. It was little secret what he wanted.

Maxie is red in the face while he asks you to come aside with him to his office. He then manages to get it out only when you two are alone. You will have to do a little inference and help a bit with him.

“Dear, c-come with me to my office!” Maxie stopped you before you could leave the hideout. His cheeks were the same colour as his hair, and you swore his glasses were somehow fogged up.

Archie tends to just ask it a little too plainly. He does not really hold shame. Just, “Wanna go to my office and fuck?” is said and if you agree, then you do just that. Anywhere is fine in his quarters – bed, couch, table, desk. Wherever you are fine with.

“Luvdisc, you bored, too? Wanna go to my office?” Archie spoke brazenly while throwing an arm around your shoulder. The grunts nearby barely gave it any mind.

Cyrus almost always refuses to initiate anything intimate. But, if he was… Well, it would be an unspoken thing, almost. His gaze would just grow intense as he took you aside to somewhere you both could have the utmost privacy.

“… Beloved,” Cyrus called for you. Turning to face him, there was something oddly brewing in his eyes as he observed you. A hand caught your own. Wordlessly, you were tugged along to his office.

Colress is pretty blunt. Of course, he would take you somewhere more private, but there is little wonder what he desires. A pleasant smile is only his lips, while a glare shines over his glasses' lens. He truthfully would do it about anywhere in his lab, quarters, or office.

“I think we should engage in a bonding exercise,” that smile on his lips did not at all match was he was offering. Especially when his gloved hand rested plainly on your ass. All in the name of research. Sure.

Lysandre is far more impassioned than the others here. Though, perhaps that is his nature as a Kalosian... Or his obsession with beauty. The Flare Boss often holds you to him and stares deeply into your eyes before asking you to join him somewhere more private.

“My love,” Lysandre's voice was husky and low in your ear. Arms wrapped around your waist and held you to his firm body. “Come with me… I wish to indulge you,” he whispered. A shiver went down your spine as he followed it with a kiss to the shell of your ear.

Guzma is far too blunt. Extremely too blunt. He lacks any tact whatsoever. But, well, he does not really understand the need for subtlety. You are his partner, yeah? Everyone knows that. He has had Plumeria bitch about how loud you two have been in his room in the past. Besides, why would he care?

“Hey,” Guzma caught you from behind and pressed you into his body. A cologne wafted from him. “Wanna go fuck?” The abrasive question nearly made you laugh from the absurdity.

Volo does not ask. Suddenly, hands will be all over you while you do your survey work. It is him, of course. Who else would it be mocking you for being so unaware? It is adorable to him, at least. The squeak you give as he encases your body and closes your wrists together. You barely have time to give a proper response.

Yandere! Corbeau

Type: Possessive.

Corbeau experienced a rough upbringing. With the support he received and his affiliations to other criminal organisations, and being akin to a mafia boss, there is a lot he would need to protect his darling from. For that reason, he meticulously plans everything in your schedule, and knows where you are all the time.

He spares no resources to have assign you a chaperone and body guard that accompany you everywhere and report all your activities to him so he knows everything about your day, everyone you talked to; in the instance it's a person he doesn't approve of or someone who flirts with you, and any conducts any other behaviours towards you that are solely his privilege, he'll dig up dirt on them, and have something 'mysteriously' terrible happen to them. Only he gets to flirt with you, love you - you are his. He has no whims to hurt or punish anyone who thinks otherwise, much less is gutsy enough to compete against him for your affections.

Yandere! Ivor

Type: Stalker and protective.

You often felt watched when all you were doing was exploring the Luminose city premises and its low-level wild zones seeking cute Pokemon to add to your team. The daggers you felt digging at the back of your head with calculated intensity, wasn't the same terror that an Alpha Pokemon's glare induced; this one created unease and sense of foreboding that you were being watched so you could be learned.

Your gut feeling was absolutely correct, and you wished you had acted on it earlier. From stalking watching you, Ivor determined that you were too weak to protect yourself - there was no way someone like you should be exploring wild zones alone. So, he assigned himself as your body guard and without giving you choice in the matter, accompanied yo everywhere.

In the rare occasions he couldn't, he would get Gwynn too. Through her, he could also make sure you stayed and explored within the boundaries he deemed appropriate for you. You were his to protect, and so your safety, was his top priority.

Yandere! Volo

Type: Obsessive and possessive.

There is an unique innocence and tenacity etched in your gaze that peaks Volo's interest in you. Despite the harshness of Hisui's wilderness and its challenges against Pokemon's brutality, you never hesitated in your kindness, and wearing your heart in your sleeve, you consistently still helped those who were unpleasant to you. It didn't make sense to him; you were a confusing, he was curious, and his inquisitiveness grew.

Initially, he started to watch you because he was curious and wanted to learn more about you; however, the more he watched and learned, the more he became obsessed over you and why you did everything the way you did. Soon, his obsession was accompanied by urges - the urge to have your kindness directed at him, only him, and for you to wear your heart for him.

Once he initiates the process to make you his, and claims you as his, he does whatever he can to be the only one in your life. You were meant for him, and he was never going to let you go.

Yandere! N Harmonia

Type: Obsessive and clingy.

The Pokémon spoke highly off you - whatever reason that was (kindness, bravery, protector), and that's N becomes intrigued by you. Guided and led by the Pokémon, he observes you in your area of expertise, and how much you help and support Pokémon who require your assistance. Your care and love for them is evident, and given that it was Pokémon who led you to him and chose you for him, he wastes no time to pursue you.

Kind words, understanding and deep meaningful conversations, cute picnics and some lovely hand-crafted gifts later, N has charmed you. Once he has you, he fixates on everything he loves and cherishes about you, and how perfect you are. It's suffocating, because the way he puts you on a pedestal creates expectations and pressure where you become too scared to do anything that will disappoint him.

It induces anxiety, and your chest feels tight, and since dating him, its harder to breath. Except, you aren't sure if that's from his oppressing presence and hyperfixation on you, or the way he always has his arms wrapped your waist tightly, clinging on you every possible second through physical touch, and never relenting, because he loves you so much.

Yandere! Arven

Type: Protective and clingy.

Arven adored you, his little buddy, especially after all of your help with the titans to help his best mate recover. Both of you went through life threatening experiences together, how could that not awaken any cardinal desire towards you?

Arven has unconditional gratitude for what you did for him: risking your life to battle together with him, because not just anyone would do that for a classmate. So, he becomes protective. He starts to worry more about what other dangers you get yourself into just to help someone else. Besides, it shouldn't be everyone you do those things for, he wanted to be the only exception! Otherwise, what would be the difference between him and your other friends? It was intolerable, he wanted to be the only one you did special favours for, and he wanted to be the only one who was special to you, the way you were special to him.

CW: fingering, masturbation, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, public(?) sex, you’re in the woods, exhibitionism, voyeurism

The setting sun casted a vibrant orange light across the sky, catching the clouds and fading to red along the horizon. In the evening light, Adaman sat propped up against a tree, listening intently as you rambled on about your day. Your back was being warmed by his chest, with his legs on either side of you; arms wrapped around your waist.

“Aaand you said it’s found in the Mirelands?” Adaman’s eyes lazily scanned the small makeshift camp the two of you had set up, before falling on you. He took a slow, deep breath, searching for your scent as subtly as possible. Adaman was infatuated with you, and quite sheepish about it. He had to keep an air of nonchalance, before you found out his adoration ran so deep.

“Yes! That’s what’s so bizarre! How did a Toxicroak get all the way up to Ginkgo Landing? They rarely even leave the bog.” You were thoroughly distracted by your ecological outlier, and Adaman smiled softly at your interest in the land and what it brings. His hands, which were intertwined around your waist, separated subtly; one slowly moving down the front of your kimono. You wore a fancy matching set, custom pieces Anthe had designed just for you. Your story paused when you realized Adaman wasn’t aiming for a tighter grip. His hand moved from your lower stomach to the top of your upper thigh, grazing inwards.

“Keep going. I’m listening.” Adaman’s tone is sweet, rubbing your thigh affectionately as you re-gathered your words.

“W-well…” You stutter, shifting to hold the arm that rests around your waist. “After I caught the Toxicroak—sweet little guy, really—I saw Iscan on the coast, waving me over.” Adaman’s hand continued its back and forth motion, moving ever so slightly towards your inner thigh with each swipe. He hums in understanding, waiting for you to continue. “Iscan told me there was a rampaging alpha Walrein farther down the coast. It’s a good thing he did, that thing was pissed.” You begin to lose yourself in your story again. Hisui is as gorgeous as it is dangerous; the sights are beyond worth the risks. Something very rapidly demanded your attention: one of Adaman’s fingers rubbed the center between your legs, just once, then his hand was back to rubbing your inner thigh. He hums again, pitch rising at the end as if asking you why you’d paused your retelling.

“Go on.” His words brush the shell of your ear, targeted and falsely innocent.

“So, uh- what I like to try first, for the really angry ones-“ Adaman’s hand brazenly brushes two fingers against your center again, slow and confident. His other arm tightens around you, and your heart races as you realize his game. The longer you’re silent, the slower his hand moves. You clear your throat. “I like to try stealth.” Adaman’s fingers move again, rubbing up and down the smooth fabric of your pants. “I know it’s not safe, and you’re gonna scold me once I tell you.” His fingers are gliding slowly, a half-chuckle leaving him at your joke. “I sneak up behind them, as close as I can… then nail them right in the ass with a Leaden Ball.” Adaman’s hand jerks away.

“Almighty—you what!?” You laugh at his reaction, head falling back against his shoulder. “That’s not funny!” You can hear the smile on his face as he starts to laugh with you, not missing the several times you said see, I told you. “That’s not funny.” He tries to sound more serious this time and fails, hand returning to its place between your legs. His head dips to kiss your neck, muffling his next words. “Give me the details that won’t have me worried when you’re not in my sight.”

“Well-“ You emphasize, teasing him. “I caught her. The Walrein. She’s in a much better mood having quelled that alpha might. It’s not like the frenzies, but they’re still so naturally agitated. I can’t help but wonder if it’s upsetting or uncomfortable for them.” Adaman’s hand slides up, fingertips fiddling with your waistband. “Then, I spent a few hours with her on the beach, finding out what her favorite berry is. The classic Oran berry, believe it or not.” His hand is sliding back down, inside your pants. The warmth of his fingertips soak through your underwear as he goes back to his previous up and down motion. “She uh- she ate most of what I had, but…” One finger, it must be his middle, is rubbing along your crease while two others toy with the outer seams of your underwear. “But those things literally grow on trees, so…” You trail off again, it’s growing harder to think of things to tell him. “Have I shown you my alpha Luxray?” Your voice begins to waver, his fingers pressing together to assist each other in the motion of pushing your underwear to the side. One slides between your folds, almost politely.

“I don’t believe you have.” Adaman’s voice is low and smooth, and you hold back a shudder as his finger presses deeper.

“Well, she’s- she’s definitely a leader, but she’s had amazing recall since day one.” Adaman’s finger is teasing your entrance with light circles. You let out a quick sigh, and his finger glides up between your folds, where he then traces similar small circles around your clit. He hums when you bite back a moan, your head pressing against his chest.

“Mhm? Tell me more.” He’s going to make this unbearable. For a man of haste, he sure knows how to take his time. You hum, low in your chest, and Adaman adds just a little pressure, focusing on the folds around your clit. “Tell me more.” His voice is lilting, teasing, almost whining.

“Fuck- I saw… I saw a Drifblim. That was cool.” You’re distracted and struggling—now pulling details from the night before—but Adaman accepts it, his finger gliding back down to your entrance. He chuckles a little, and you feel something firm beginning to press against your back.

“Excuse me. Please, continue.” The arm that’s around your waist leaves, worming in between you two so he can adjust himself. He’s not even trying to be shy about it, flipping his hard-on up, the clothed underside flush against your back. When you’re still silent by the time his arm is snaked around your waist, he speaks again. “More comfortable for us both.” He pauses for a moment. “Your Luxray?”

“Y-yeah. She’s strongheaded but… but surprisingly good with the others.” You’re not sure how long you can keep this up. Just then, Adaman’s middle finger pushes inside you, pulling a moan from your now open mouth. Your head turns, trying to get any of him in reach. When all you find is his arm, you crane your neck upwards to meet his gaze. His lovely brown eyes are warm, glazing over with desire. His finger pumps slowly, soft smile growing when you gasp. “Adaman…” You scold, wondering how long this had been on his mind.

“Yes?” His finger curls upwards, aiming for your sweet spot. He hasn’t found it yet, but he will. The sky has darkened around you, your campfire now the strongest source of light. The flickering yellow flames reflected in Adaman’s eyes, looking entirely too hot and proud of himself. His eyes are on yours intently, watching the way your lashes flutter when he slips in a second finger. “Tell me more. I love hearing about your adventures.” He’s slowly working you open, the light of the flames doing little to hide your reddening face.

“I- I fed some Aipoms.” You’re struggling to keep your tone even. His fingers don’t stop, but he’s asking you a silent question. “They- ah-“ You gasp as Adaman pushes his fingers all the way in before returning to his previous pace. “They won’t eat Dazzling Honey… at least they-“ You do your best to bite back a moan. “They wouldn’t take it from me.” Your voice is breathy, panting as his pace remains agonizingly slow. Adaman hums, focusing harder on what made you squirm. He curls his fingers just right, and you squeeze your knees together. Adaman’s response is the use of his free hand to pull your thighs outward over his own. He then spreads his legs, pulling your yours farther open, giving him delightful access to his current interest. He slouches against the tree, effectively grinding against you just once. Your pants are just loose enough for his large hand to move and rest comfortably.

“That’s very interesting.” His tone is contemplative, but it’s not the Aipom’s diet on his mind. “What did they take from you?” The answer is too far away in your mind, but he’s after something else. It’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s just that every question you answer is accompanied by beautiful gasps and wavers in your tone. He knows if he lets you go quiet, you’ll bite your lip to hold back the noises he loves so much. You don’t answer, but your mouth stays open. Adaman’s fingers pull out from inside you, moving upwards. He uses your natural lubricant to soften the sensation of his fingertips, gliding over your skin rather than pulling. Adaman’s toying with you, spreading your slick through your folds. His motions are light, teasing the sensitive area around your clit. You treat him to a moan, pushing your hips up into his hand. He hums, fingers moving back down and easily slipping inside you.

“I can’t believe you.” You’re breathless, meeting his motions with your hips, grinding against his palm for further stimulation. “Adaman.” You whine; his name sounds so beautiful coming from your mouth. His response is a low hum, somehow the proud look on his face is audible within it. Your moans are still soft but growing steady as you lose your bearings. The little camp the two of you had set up was far away from other settlements, theoretically out of earshot. There shouldn’t be anyone else out here, but trouble has a way of finding you.

The crackling of the campfire, accompanied by your own heavy breathing, fully masked the leaves crunching closer and closer to your camp. Suddenly, a voice rings out into your camp from the darkness of the trees. Whether or not Adaman noticed the approach, you’re unsure. Not once does he jump or flinch at the sound of the intruder. You, on the other hand, attempt to fly from his lap, but the one arm around your waist is all Adaman needs to keep you still.

“What are you little rascals doing out here? It’s a little late to be having sleepovers!” Volo’s features came into the campfire light, adorned with his usual offputting smile. Neither you nor Adaman respond. You’re too shocked to, and Adaman… well, Adaman never stopped fingering you. In fact, his pace is just as steady as it was before, leaving you squirming in his lap. When you looked back at the blond man, his eyebrows were raised, gradually seeming to understand the situation. His eyes dropped to between your legs, darting to the spot where Adaman’s arm had slipped into your pants. The outline of his hand is visible, including his knuckles and fingers, which were obviously pumping in and out of you. Adaman still has your thighs draped over his own, holding your legs open. The hand not pleasuring you is wrapped tightly around your waist. Volo’s eyes are on yours, taking in your red cheeks and your panicked, avoidant look. Volo meets Adaman’s gaze next, dangerously sharp brown eyes stare back, intense enough to almost make him feel hunted. “Ah! Looks like you’re up to something. I see you’re busy but, got time for a chat?” His chipper tone is infallible, but you’re refusing to look at him. Adaman sighs dramatically.

“I suppose. It’s getting late, though.” Adaman’s voice is annoyed, but otherwise concerningly nonchalant; never would you have expected that from him. Volo sits on a neighboring log with a dad-like noise of relief.

“What brings you out this far? We’re pretty far from any settlements.” Volo sounds genuinely curious, and your eyes land on him with a betrayed look.

“Oh, you know… just looking for some privacy.” Adaman’s response is smooth, accentuating his movements so they’re more visible through your pants. Gray eyes fall between your legs, greedily taking in the view. Volo has a great imagination, after all. Your arms drop, obscuring the area of interest with your hands.

“Hey, there’s no use in covering now! I already saw. Besides, I’d like to see again. You are a very pretty sight.” You curse outwardly, one hand flying to your face in an attempt to hide your blushing cheeks, the other staying in between your legs. Adaman’s knuckles bump your palm, which is far hotter than it should be. There’s a few moments of silence, and you pray to Arceus that Volo can’t hear the sounds of Adaman fingering you over the crackling of the fire. “You uh… you got room for another? I’ve been told I’m good with my hands.” How he kept up a chipper tone in these conditions was beyond you.

“No.” Adaman’s response is low and defensive. He’d answered with no hesitation, friendly demeanor slipping away with the breeze. After a couple more terribly uncomfortable—albeit normal—questions, Volo stands ceremoniously; jostling his pack once to set the weight right.

“Alright! You kids have a good night then! Don’t have too much fun.” Volo teases and wags his finger at you two, as if he was a chaperone on his way out. Adaman’s fingers are still pumping steadily as he listens for Volo’s footsteps to fade away completely.

“You are… the worst. Why- Adaman. Why?”

“What? He came into our camp, and it’s fairly obvious that we’re busy. I, personally, am happy that he left so easily. When it comes to you, he usually puts up a fight.”

“Let’s- can we move to the tent? That was awful. I didn’t think anyone would be out this far.”

“He has a way of finding you.” There’s a brief pause, then Adaman speaks again. “I don’t like it. I want you to myself, yknow?” His face tucks into your neck, moving his entire hand as he fingers you, using his palm to supply dull pleasure to your clit. “I’ve been thinking about how nice it would be to watch the stars with you.”

“With your hand down my pants?”

“Mhm.” His hum of affirmation sends sweet vibrations through the sensitive skin of your throat. “We can bless the tent, too.” Does he mean-?

“Adaman!”

“I know, I know. The roof is too low for you to ride me, but don’t worry. There’s enough space for me to watch your pretty face. I know you like to see me above you.”

“Adaman!”

“Hmm, say it louder. Or would you prefer I pull it from you myself?” Your head whips around on your shoulders, glaring at his very smug expression. It looks like you have a complaint to make, but the hungry expression in his eyes overrides your thoughts.

Adaman is breathing heavily above you, taking in every shift in your expression. The normally rolled up and secured fabric sheet had been released, covering the entrance to the tent. It’s fairly primitive, and the orange lights of the campfire peek through the edges, dancing across Adaman’s glistening skin. The thin sleeping material beneath you is similar to a cot…without the frame. It did little to protect your hips from the unforgiving ground, and you knew your entire back would be sore the next day. You brace your hands on his chest, moans stuttering with the harsh movement of his hips. The tent is hot and humid, emitting lewd, wet noises coming from where he was thrusting into you. It was made for shelter, after all, not privacy. Your desperate cries rang out into the trees. Adaman hears his name, just barely, broken and scattered within your moans. He wanted all of Hisui to know who you belonged to. His head dips, biting your neck hard, and the sudden pain makes your toes curl and stomach flutter. It feels like he’s marking you and taking you; claiming you. Adaman kisses the indents left from his teeth, switching to slow, thoughtful movements. It was something he enjoyed: fucking you hard and fast just to hear you cry out, then slowing and focusing entirely on making you moan. He loved the way your voice changed in pitch, the way your sounds grew longer; the way your legs tightened around his waist. Out in the thicket, far away from any other campsite, Adaman felt perfectly confident in his decision to get you as loud as possible.

“Please.” You beg breathlessly, gazing up at him. “Adaman, please. I-“ You throw your head back against the flimsy pillow, completely powerless to your imminent release. The man above you smiles, feeling a sense of pride as you completely fall apart beneath him. Your back arches, toes curling, and you repeatedly clench around his length inside you, another signature sign of your climax. His movements are consistent, loving the way he can pull moan after moan from you just by rolling his hips at the right time. There’s no mistaking the noises coming from you. Your cries were loud, pornographic, and intoxicatingly blissful. The pleasure barely has time to fade before Adaman’s picked up his pace. Your breaths became high whines, curling in towards him at the overstimulation. Adaman moans: a perfect, beautiful sound. It’s so lovely, he’s so lovely, and suddenly your brain is spitting out something unexpected. “Come inside me.” Adaman’s brows furrow as he looks down at you.

“Are you sure?” He’s double checking, but you felt him twitch inside you, hips stuttering at your command.

“Yes, please, Adaman. Give me your blessing.” Your voice is desperate but teasing, cries growing louder as he fucks you harder. He moans again, muffling it by biting his lip. Adaman’s getting close, and you strategically clench around him while he’s thrusting in. Another beautiful moan leaves his mouth, and his movements grow erratic. A few more thrusts and he’s bottoming out, a pulsing warmth spreading inside you. You take in his desperate, blissful expression, cupping his cheeks with your hands. He leans down, trapping your mouth in a long, passionate kiss. When he pulls back, a wide toothy grin has spread across his face. You flush under the adoration of his gaze, knowing damn well its pride, as he gathers your necessary clothing. Suddenly, a stick breaks, concerningly close to your tent. Adaman’s hand flies up, motioning for you to stay still and silent. He waits for several seconds, but no noise follows. Once he’s convinced you’re safe, Adaman takes the spot closer to the fabric entrance of the tent in a protective gesture. His arm moves out for you to tuck neatly into the crook of his chest.

“So you uh… wanna be a permanent member of the Diamond Clan?” He’s teasing, even though his eyes are sparkling and filled with love.

“Adaman, we’ve had sex before.”

“I know, but…” He still has that goofy smile on his face. “You’ve never accepted my blessing before.”

“Okay, okay. I know I called it that, but stop calling it that.” He’s laughing at you now, holding you tight against him. As his laughter fades, the night ambiance creeps in, bringing a comfortable chill with it. You sleep wonderfully next to Adaman, save the persistent and prominent, aching pain along your back.

Volo’s Perspective:

Damn him, that clan leader! I’ve been trying to get close to her for how long, and he shoves his hands down her pants just like that! Spoiled brat… always gets whatever he wants.

His mind began to swim with thoughts of your beautiful expression, the quiet half-noises leaving you; the outline of Adaman’s fingers pushing several inches into you. What he wouldn’t give to hear you just a little more.

Well… there’s no use in a wasted opportunity.

Volo turns, planning his route. He found himself backtracking to the hill just behind your campsite. He took a wide berth, setting down his heavy pack out of earshot. Then, step by step, he snuck towards your tent. It was pitch black out, but he was managing to dodge every stick. And then, finally, he heard something. Soft moans, just barely creeping through the trees. His feet brought him closer and closer, until he could hear you clearly. High, breathy; you were obviously enjoying yourself. Or… enjoying Adaman, rather. His gut twists at the thought of you there, in front of the fire, at the mercy of the clan leader’s fingers. Despite his anger, Volo was quickly growing hard at your sounds of pleasure; heart racing as they begged him to get closer, and closer, and closer.

And then, he could see the tent. This is too close, his brain screamed, but your song is an infallible lure. Volo was approaching the backside of your tent, gauging which tree would be best to stand behind. You sounded beautiful, so gorgeous that he was palming himself before even deciding his hiding spot. His cheeks flush, burning hot down his chest in shame. Volo pulls himself out from his pants, stroking hastily. There was an obvious pace change, your moans growing higher in pitch and frequency. Now, he could hear Adaman’s hips slapping against yours, forcing those delicious noises right out of you. Volo stifled his raging jealously by imagining you beneath him instead. You’d feel so good, if you weren’t his hand. You’d look so pretty above him, under him, on your knees for him… Volo latches on to every noise you make, committing it to memory.

Stroking himself faster, Volo notices another pace change, back to whatever drew long, loud moans from you. They’re perfect for his fantasies, until he hears you beg. For that damn clan leader. The nails of his free hand dig into the bark of the tree he’s leaning against, jaw clenching as he continues to chase his own high. Oh… but now you’re coming, and that makes it so much easier. He could feel his own release rapidly approaching, fueled by the sounds of your orgasm. Your moans turn into high whines, skin meeting skin. Then a different voice, it must be Adaman, moans, and it sends a pang of rage through his gut. It’s not enough to counteract your cries however, and soon Volo’s desecrating the ground in front of him. The two of you don’t stop, however, a stinging reminder that your sexual adventures didn’t involve him. As he ashamedly tucks himself back into his pants, he’s forced to hear Adaman again, just on the cusp of… blessing you. When the noises slow and then stop, and Volo realizes he’s running out of time to leave. He takes too quick of a step, and a dried-out stick—perhaps the loudest, snappiest, most obnoxious stick of his life—cracks beneath his shoe. He freezes, praying his pounding heart doesn’t cover any sounds of discovery. Volo steels his nerves, then continues his silent scamper back to his pack. He hoists it over his shoulders, and goes on his way. As ashamed as he was, he still left the woods feeling like a winner.

—————

yeah uh huh and what are u gonna do about it? read it again?

You missed your friends in Hisui. You missed Akarai and Rei and Laventon. You missed Adaman and Irida. You missed Cylene. You even missed Kamado. It had been about a year since you had returned from the past, tumbling out of the last space-time distortion. Dialga and Palkia had ensured you would make it safely home the moment you left. It was like you were never gone at all.

It had been nearly impossible to piece your life back together the first few months. Everyone around you was exactly the same as when you had left. And you? You felt like an entirely different person. And you were mourning. Everyone you had come to care about in Hisui had died nearly a century ago.

You tracked down a few of their descendants. It had taken a while, researching census data and stalking social media pages. Laventon’s family had returned to Galar, and one of his great great great grandkids was even studying to be a professor. Adaman and Irida’s family lines mixed sometime after you left, but you hadn’t been able to figure out if they had gotten together or if it was their kids. You followed their granddaughter’s social media. She took some really nice pictures. Kamado’s grandson was a professor in Sinnoh, it seemed.

Over the course of your research, you had also come across the very shocking revelation that either Cogita or Volo had descendants in Sinnoh, as well. What’s more, that descendant was the champion. Well, ex-champion, but still. The videos of her battles sent chills down your spine. She used nearly the same team as…him.

You reached out, hardly expecting a response, but she didn’t even question your ‘I fell through a space-time distortion and maybe met your great great great grandpa who was super evil’ story. She just answered any questions you had and asked a few of her own. (Apparently, someone else had summoned Giratina not too long ago, and it didn’t go well for them.) She also pointed you in the direction of the Lumiose Museum, which apparently had an entire exhibit dedicated to Hisui.

You took the next flight there, your suitcase stuffed haphazardly with a random assortment of clothes you had grabbed from the pile on your floor.

The flight to Kalos was long, but you couldn’t fall asleep. The train ride from the airport to Lumiose City felt like an eternity. But eventually, you made it. You ditched your bag at the first (affordable) hotel you found. There had been some ad for it online with maybe three views, but the place looked nice enough.

It took a while to find the Lumiose Museum, but you found it. The person behind the desk tried to greet you, but you bee-lined for the main exhibit without so much as a hello. You had practically memorized the museum map from their website, which you had looked at while you were on the train.

Your breath caught as soon as the exhibit came into view. It was all here. Kamado’s armor was sitting inside of a glass case. Professor Laventon’s sketches were hanging on the wall. A uniform, much like the one hanging in your closet back home, was displayed.

You walk slowly around the exhibit, taking it all in.

You stop to stare up at one mannequin in particular. White tunic. Green pants. You would recognize those weird clothes anywhere. You read the small plaque: ‘This outfit is said to have been worn by the ancient Sinnoh people during their rituals. This group worshiped the Pokémon Arceus as an almighty deity. It is thought that they showed their respect by mimicking Arceus's appearance—even reflected in the way they styled their hair.’

You stare at it for a long time, the world disappearing around you. You remember his smile as he introduced himself for the first time. You remember how he comforted you during your exile. You remember him screaming for your demise. Tears fall before you can stop them.

“Appreciating the exhibit?” the question jolts you out of your daydream, and you quickly wipe your eyes. You hadn’t even noticed the man standing next to you until he spoke. “Are you a historian? I can’t say I’ve seen anyone moved to tears by a few old rags before.”

“I guess you could say that,” you blush. You don’t feel like explaining your entire life’s story to a stranger. Especially not here. But something about him is familiar. It’s hard to see his face past the brim of his baseball cap and the hood of his sweatshirt, but the way he speaks, the way he holds himself, you swear you’ve met before. Was he a descendant of someone? Or had you seen him before your adventure in Hisui and forgotten him? That before seemed like forever ago.

“Ah! Always happy to meet someone interested in the past,” the stranger smiles. Something about the way he does it puts you on edge. “Have you read much on these relics? Such an interesting time.”

“Uh, not much,” you hadn’t bothered to read many history books recently. Especially considering how much they got wrong. “Are you a historian?”

“Me? Oh, no. I am a mere admirer of ruins,” he smiles, and it clicks. You take a step back, hand flying to one of the Pokeballs hanging from your belt. 

“V-Volo!?” you take another step back, ready for him to attack.

“Ah! So it is you! I was curious if you had made it back, or if the resemblance was merely imagined,” Volo says it in the same chipper voice he used during most of your adventure. Before he had revealed his true intentions. Before he had revealed he had been using you the whole time. He tips his hat back, and you can see his face. He looks exactly the same. He hasn’t aged a day.

“How? How are you here?” you try to keep your voice level, not wanting to draw too much attention, but you still grip the Pokeball tighter. Who knows what Volo had up his sleeve this time around? “Y-you should be dead by now.”

“Ah, alas, Arceus has decided I will not know death for a while. Divine punishment. Or perhaps it is simply an unfortunate side effect of the meddling I’ve done with great powers,” Volo’s smile tightens, and you detect the faintest hint of anger in his voice.

“So you’re, what? Immortal?” The thought of Volo of all people living forever is horrifying.

“I suppose,” he hums. “Quite the curse, eh?”

“Curse?” you ask. Why would he call living forever a curse? “I thought you vowed to conquer Arceus, no matter how many centuries it took. Destroy the world and all that jazz?”

“Yes, yes. I did say that,” he nods thoughtfully. “Perhaps that is why I am able to be here now. Arceus certainly has a sense of humor. But you needn’t worry. I abandoned that crusade.”

“Why would I ever believe anything you say ever again?” You spit the words out like venom.

“Yeah, that’s probably deserved,” he laughs. “But! Perhaps a bit of evidence would do you well, seeing as you can’t take me at my word?”

You shouldn’t trust him. You shouldn’t. What if he was planning this? What if he had prepared for your return in advance? Any evidence he had would be worthless. Still, you find yourself hesitantly nodding.

“See this?” he points to the outfit behind the glass. “I donated it to the museum, myself. I certainly don’t plan on using it again.”

“Maybe you just realized how stupid you looked wearing it and decided to wear something else next time you try to control a deity,” you frown. This didn’t prove anything. He didn’t get to waltz back into your life again. He didn’t get to lie to you again. He didn’t get to pretend to care about you again.

“Perhaps,” he winces. “Although, I must say I’m not the one who designed it.”

You don’t say anything, still stanced as if a battle would break out at any moment.

“In any case,” he continues, “I suppose I best be off. Wouldn’t want to spoil your reminiscing.” He turns to leave, and you reach forward.

“Oh no you don’t,” you grab his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He raises one eyebrow, glancing at your hand. “I’m not going to let you run off and almost destroy the whole world again.”

“I promise I won’t?” he shrugs. “Nearly two centuries is plenty of time for character development.”

“Yeah? How do I know you’ve changed? You tore holes in space and time, for crying out loud,” you think back to the frenzied nobles, the darkened sky, all of it. Now that you think about it, it was odd that wild Pokemon in Lumiose were apparently mega evolving on their own, with no trainer bond to speak of. Maybe that was Volo’s fault. If he was here, it couldn’t be good for Kalos.

“Would anything I do or say ever convince you?” The question is rhetorical. You both know the answer is a resounding no. Nothing would ever make up for what he had done. At least not fully. Even if he had changed and you became best of friends, there would always be the voice in the back of your head wondering if this, too, was a lie. Your grip loosens on his arm, and Volo releases himself from your hold. He rubs his wrist. How hard had you grabbed him?

“Sorry,” you mutter, glancing away from him. He sighs, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. It was a little weird seeing him in modern clothes, now that you thought about it.

“Your reaction is understandable. Warranted, even,” he looks away, and you follow his gaze to a few of Laventon’s sketches on the wall. He looks… sad? Nostalgic, maybe. “Perhaps we should chat somewhere where the past isn’t looming over us.”

“Probably a good idea,” you glance one last time at the outfit behind the glass. Your reflection stares back.

“There’s a nice coffee shop not too far away,” Volo suggests, his chipper voice and smile back in place. “Drinks on me.”

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly, following him as he begins walking out of the museum and down the street.

“Now, I had thought, given how prevalent phones are nowadays, that I was getting closer to around when you lived, but I didn’t expect you to remember me,” Volo chatters as you walk beside him. Whether he actually wanted to talk or just needed to avoid the deafening silence between you two you couldn’t say. “I can’t say I ever expected you to return from Hisui. You seemed like you had established yourself quite well.”

“I stayed long enough to help, but… we all knew I wouldn’t be able to stay,” you shrug. You don’t bother to tell him the details. You don’t want to give him more than the bare minimum. What if he used that information somehow? You decide to change the subject. “What about you? You’ve just been… living this whole time? You didn’t jump through a space-time distortion to get here?” You try not to sound too accusatory, but it’s clear you still doubt his story.

“No, no fancy distortion traveling for me, I’m afraid. After our little showdown I wandered around for quite a while. If Giratina would not assist me in overthrowing Arceus, I thought another with more power might,” Volo grimaced as he recounted it. Did he actually… regret his actions? Or was he still sore about losing? “I wandered the various regions for a while, searching for something that could subjugate great power.”

“Did you find one?” you ask.

“I found a great many treasures and tools,” he says. “Humankind has tried many times to harness the power of the gods. One even exists here, in Kalos.”

He laughs when he sees your look of terror.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t used it, though others have tried,” he turns into one of the shops along the street, and the two of you stand at the back of the line. The coffee shop is pretty busy, it seems. 

“So… what did you do with them? I can’t imagine a guy like you ever just… giving up,” you glance at the menu, but can’t seem to focus on any of the words. All your attention is on Volo, trying to see if the mask will slip. If you can see through the lies. If he even is lying.

“I was met with failure after failure. And I watched others meet with the same,” he explains. “Did you know someone else tried to summon Giratina recently?”

“Yeah, Cynthia told me about that,” you say it without thinking, and immediately regret it. Volo turns to look at you faster than you think you’ve seen anyone move before.

“Cynthia?” His smile is completely gone, replaced instead by utter confusion.

“Your great, great, great whatever granddaughter, I assume,” you can’t tell if he truly doesn’t know her or if he just didn’t expect you to know her. “She’s the one that told me about the exhibit. Booked the first flight to Kalos I could find.”

“I… didn’t realize you were in contact with my descendants,” he shifts uncomfortably. The line moves forward, and before either of you can ask another question, the woman behind the counter is asking for your order. You hadn’t had a chance to read the menu, and now you don’t have your order ready. Curses! You were going to be one of those annoying people who held up the line.

After embarrassedly fumbling through your order, you sit down at one of the many tables outside. The small coffee is hot enough to burn your hands through the mug.

“So…” you trail off, wondering what you even should say. ‘Thanks for the coffee, it totally makes up for you trying to destroy the whole world that one time’? What were you even doing here? You wanted to see Hisuian artifacts, not the guy that had nearly killed everyone in Hisui (and everywhere else, for that matter). You couldn’t leave him to his devices, but what exactly was the plan? Stalk him forever?

“I believe you were saying something about my descendant,” he sips his coffee, trying to appear nonchalant. He doesn’t succeed. “I must say, I haven't checked in on the family for quite a while. I’ve only been to Sinnoh once since I realized my… unfortunate condition.”

“You sound like a sucky father,” you sip your own coffee, burning your tongue in the process.

“What did you expect?” he shrugs, but there’s a hint of regret in his voice. “I had been too blind. Too… focused on delusions of gradure. Perhaps I should pay her a visit.”

“What changed? What could possibly make you give up on your dream to stand before Arceus and harness his power?” you blow on your coffee, then take another sip. It’s still really hot. Love, obviously, hadn’t been successful. Immortality, or at least a greatly extended life, hadn’t changed him. What was it?

“It was a long series of things, I suppose. You, of course, played a large part in my… let’s call it a change of heart,” he stares into his cup, one hundred years of memories flashing through his mind. You know that look. It’s the one you make when remembering Hisui. The far-off look, staring at something that isn’t there, that hasn’t been there for nearly a century. “I won’t bore you with the details, right now. Perhaps some other time I can regale you with tales of my travels.”

“Mmhmm,” you glare at him. 

“So what have you… been up to recently?” he seems awkward as he asks it, like he’s not used to doing it. You think back to all the times he popped up during your time in Hisui, asking about how you had been and where you had gone. It feels different this time. You’re not on a holy quest. He… doesn’t seem to be plotting anything. What was the motive? Did he actually care?

You didn’t want to talk to him of all people, but he was the first person who had even bothered to ask in… a pretty long time. You had to talk to someone about it. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you chatted about it a little.

“I, uh, came back almost a year ago. Pretty much no time had passed while I was gone,” you swirl your drink in your hands, staring at the spiral in the dark liquid. “I spent a while tracking down as many families as I could, trying to find ways to… I don’t know, say goodbye to people one last time?”

“Oh? That must’ve been an interesting project,” he smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess,” you take another sip of your coffee. “I couldn’t find everyone, but most people have at least a few grandkids scattered around the world. I’ve been thinking of taking a trip across Sinnoh, but I don’t know if I should. It’d be weird seeing everything, now.”

“Yes, seeing what you knew be reduced to nothing more than ruins can be quite… upsetting,” Volo nods. He understands. He’s maybe one of the only people around who does.

“Other than that, I haven’t really… done a lot,” you admit. “I couldn’t really go back to how things were before. Dropped out of school, quit my job. I started hand-making Pokeballs. Turns out some people will pay a lot of money for the novelty of them.”

“I’m… sorry,” he says slowly. Quietly. You blink.

“What?”

“I said I’m sorry,” he says again, a bit louder this time. “I am the reason you were transported to the past in the first place. If it weren’t for my meddling, you wouldn’t be so…”

“Depressed?” you snort, the last dregs of tension washing away. Volo of all people apologizing was the last nail in the coffin. If he was lying and hadn’t reformed, he was a good actor. You’ll trust him, for now. “Yeah, man, you were kind of, like, the worst?”

He doesn’t say anything.

You take a swig of your coffee before continuing.

“Well, if you have changed, I’m glad. Not sure about the immortal curse thing, but I wouldn’t mind you… how did you say it? Regaling me with tales of your travels.” You say the last part in a somewhat mocking accent. Volo laughs. “I’m staying at this really cheap hotel in the city. You should book a room.”

“Keeping me close so you can watch me for signs of turning to evil?” he teases.

“More like I’m just glad to have someone to talk to again,” you laugh. “But yeah! No evil summoning rituals on my watch!”

“I would never,” he smiles.

Bonus:

Volo, checking in to Hotel Z: 

AZ, recognizing him from a few decades back:

The next day was the same. There was an odd unease – an anxiety settling deep in your bones as soon as you left your job and started your walk home. You wanted to discount it, ignore it. You wanted to tell yourself you were being paranoid. 

But, these were instincts you had learned to trust. Sharpened by experiences left far behind in Hisui, from dangerous Alphas and, sometimes, even more dangerous people. Those instincts had kept you alive, but you weren’t in Hisui anymore.

You were turning a corner when you saw it. Him. Just a glimpse, just his back as he bobbed through a crowd, but him. Tall. Broad. A twist of blonde under a dark cap. Impossibly familiar. 

A ghost. A dopperganger, it had to be. It couldn’t be- 

Your legs were moving before you realized, following the fleeting glimpse of the tall figure as he turned a corner. A walk turned into a jog, and you very nearly crashed into someone as you rounded the building. The quickest apology left your lips as you looked around, scanning the street for the man that could not be there. 

And he wasn’t. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, but your heartbeat didn’t calm. You turned, eyes lingering down the street before finally, slowly, resuming your walk home. 

This was ridiculous. There was no way. 

Your steps slowed to a stop as a creeping, quiet horror washed over you. A man cussed at you when he almost ran into your back, and he brushed past you roughly, but you barely felt it as your mind reeled. There was a way: the exact way you had gotten home in the first place. 

It was unlikely, but it wasn’t impossible. 

That new reality settled in you as you finished your walk home. Your hands were slightly shaky as you tried to unlock your front door, missing the lock the first time. There was a lump in your throat you couldn’t seem to swallow down as you tossed your keys to the side, shucking off your coat as you felt uncomfortably warm. 

Your body was on pure auto-pilot as you went through your nightly routine.

Lying in bed that night, you remembered. Memories you hadn’t let yourself consider in quite some time. Memories of the many sides of Volo you had come to know before you left Hisui.  

The kindly merchant that had a penchant for showing up at just the right time.

The friend that stood by your side when you had been cast out of the village. 

The man that laid you underneath him for a single night of passion when you sought comfort. 

The monster that had tried, and failed, to strike you down on the top of Mount Coronet. 

Even after so much time, it was hard to reconcile all of those facets together. The man you thought knew, and the man that desired to destroy the world. 

You turned over, heart and head both aching from the memories. However, you couldn’t stop your thoughts from drifting with you as you drifted off to sleep. As you did, it wasn’t the monster Volo haunting your thoughts; it was the merchant, the friend, and the lover. 

A week passed, and the unease slowly settled, but barely. The paranoia was exhausting you, but you couldn’t quite shake it completely. It was another day of walking home, down the same familiar streets. Even stopping at the grocer to get ingredients for dinner, you were looking over your shoulder before paying. 

Your hands weren’t shaking this time when you unlocked your front door, but something still made you pause before you pushed the door open. It opened slowly with its quiet, usual creak. The door shut, and the apartment was quiet. Normal. Dark. You locked the door behind you, set your groceries down, and tossed the keys onto the side table near the door.

The keys hadn’t even hit the wood before an arm wrapped around you from behind, holding both of your own arms down. An involuntary scream tried to rip from your throat, but another hand suddenly covering your mouth muffled it. Your body tried to thrash as panic swelled in your throat and chest, but the grip on your upper arm was hard, holding you back against a tall, broad figure with no room to move. 

“Be quiet!” a horribly familiar voice hissed in your ear, tightening his grip on your face. Your eyes widened, whole body freezing and heart thudding in your chest as you listened to him. Memories flooded back once again, hitting you like a train as you struggled to accept the current situation. 

It really was him. Volo was there. In the present. In your home. Cold fear flushed through you as you remembered every detail of the last time you had seen him, but your heart fluttered traitorously with something else. 

“Are you going to scream again?” He whispered, and your body shuddered from both his voice and the brush of his lips against your ear. Your cheeks were hurting from his strong hold, his nails digging into your face, but he loosened it slightly when he felt you stop fighting. 

You thought about it, and shook your head. The world spun, and then your back was being shoved hard against the wall. It knocked the air out of your lungs, giving him the opportunity to gather your wrists, crossed in one large hand. As he pinned your hands above your head, his other hand returned to your face, gripping your jaw painfully tight again as he tilted your head up. 

Finally, your eyes reopened (you weren't sure when you had closed them), and there he was. He looked frighteningly close to the man in your memories. He hardly looked older at all, actually, and really just appeared more tired. And his eyes. Or eye, rather. The same dull gray, but with a pupil so wide in the low-light of the living room, it was almost black. 

“You.” His grip tightened on your face as he leaned forward, gaze burning into yours. There was an intensity on his face that made something heavy settle over you. You couldn’t tell if he was furious, or excited, but he certainly looked triumphant. “Finally. Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?” 

“You!” you spat right back without thinking, voice raw and shaky. His grip on your wrists didn’t budge as you tried to thrash, and an odd mixture of emotions was flooding through you. Relief that you weren’t going insane. Fear from the man holding you against your will. Something else you couldn’t hope to identify in your current state of mind, but you were warm. Uncomfortably warm. He was really there. “I knew it was you. I saw you on the street!” 

“A sloppy performance on my part,” he admitted casually, face quickly twisting in a sneer when you tried to break out of his grip again. “Stop squirming!” he hissed, before trying to school his expression into something more pleasant. He tried to smile and soften his eyes, but there was nothing soft about his hands on you. “I’m not here to hurt you, dear.”

“You’re… not?” You decided not to bring up the stinging from how hard he was gripping you. 

“Of course not. Why would I want to hurt an old friend?” He released your face just to stroke his knuckles over your cheek. His fingertips then took the place of his knuckles, and you winced when he pinched your cheek meanly, like he was cooing over a cute child. His voice was sickly sweet now, reminiscent of the very first version of him you knew. “If I wanted to, I already would have, you know.” 

A fresh wave of fear washed over you, but it was tempered by confusion when he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His hand moved to rest mostly on the side of your neck, thumb stroking gently over your cheek as his fingers flexed over your pulse. A stark contrast to his other hand gripping your wrists together, still stuck to the wall over your head. 

“You’re looking well,” he murmured, finally. He looked almost in awe, eye raking over your face like he was taking in every tiny detail, new and old. His thumb found the edge of your mouth, lingering there and tugging at your lower lip before moving back to your cheek. “Remarkably well. This future suits you.” 

“I belong here,” you said, trying to tilt your face away from his touch. He didn’t seem to like that and grabbed your chin again, keeping you facing forward. 

“You do,” he agreed, a bitter edge cutting through the sweetness of his voice. “Much more than I, I admit. I have been on quite the journey to find you, my dear.” 

The name made your brow furrow, but you pushed through the surprise. You swallowed hard as you tried to find the words you wanted, hyper aware of the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin. “W-Why are you here? How did you…?” 

“Those are two very different questions. How did I what? Are you asking how I got here? How do you think?” 

“A wormhole? Did you somehow tear open another space-time rift? Giratina was with the Galaxy team…” 

“You truly thought Giratina could be contained forever? Foolish. But, no, nothing so easy, or quick.” A frightening, wolfish grin came across his face, nose brushing against yours as he whispered, “I just lived.” 

Your eyes widened, and he laughed. Positively giddy over the shock on your face as he explained, “It took a long time to realize what was happening to me. Birthdays came and went. I kept looking for grays, and wrinkles, but I was the same. Unchanged. I tried my damndest to figure out how, for a while, but I gave up a long time ago. I can only assume Arceus thought it a suitable punishment for me.”

He was rambling comfortably now. “Well, I assumed it was a punishment at first. Then, I came to realize it was a gift. I could travel, and learn, and continue working towards my goal. I told you, I’d spend centuries if I needed to, remember that? And then eventually, I thought how I might, somehow, find my way to you again. Some decades, I lost hope. Yet, I endured, and now…” he trailed off, and looked mentally far away for a moment before he refocused. 

"The news reached me when you disappeared, you know. Hisui’s savor, gone in a blink. Sent back home by the same forces that brought you in the first place. It caused quite the stir and panic when you left... for everyone.”

“I thought I’d never see you again.” There was something unsteady in the way he was looking at you now. Something intense swirled in his gaze as he looked all over your face, a shaky breath leaving him as his eyes lingered on your lips.

He shook his head, seemingly to himself as he chuckled incredulously. “You took everything from me. My livelihood, my destiny, and then you.” 

Your eyes widened at the implication, and you instinctively tried to defend yourself. “Volo-” 

“You left me alone,” he continued, as though you hadn’t even spoken.

“Volo, I-”

“You ruined me.” His hand left your face to run down your side, following the shape of your waist, down to your hip. His gaze dropped with it, following the touch of his hand. The touch was soft, almost reverent if you could let yourself believe it. “And yet, despite everything you’ve done, I missed you,” he breathed, nose nudging yours as he moved impossibly closer.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to touch your sweet body again? How many nights alone, without you… Thinking about this.” His fingers dug into your hip then–harsh, possessive, and borderline painful from the intensity of his grip. “Finally seeing you again, after so long… Oh, I missed you. I missed you…” 

His words faded into a shaky breath as he finally closed the distance, claiming your mouth for himself. The sound that left him was nothing short of primal. Pure, absolute relief. 

It had only been a handful of years since you’d last felt his lips on yours. 

For him, it had been more than one lifetime. 

That realization settled in you heavily as he kissed you with an uncharacteristic slowness. Or, uncharacteristic to the Volo you knew so long ago. You weren’t sure if he was savoring it, or just getting used to the movement again, but you didn’t kiss back. Not yet. Not while your mind was still catching up to the gravity of the moment. 

This… didn’t feel like the monster from your last meeting. You tried to remind yourself that there was something unsteady in his gaze, a crazy look in his eye, that this man was dangerous, but it was hard to focus on anything but the feeling of his lips slowly moving against yours. Your eyes were open while his had fallen closed, and he looked… content, almost. 

It was a... nice expression on him. 

An insistent nip to your lower brought you back to the present. Slowly, and even though your mind was screaming at you to resist, your body relaxed. Just a hint, but he felt it. He felt the exact moment the wall chipped, and he didn’t hesitate to slide his tongue between your lips. He claimed everything you gave, and then pushed for more. 

It was overwhelming already. He was always intense, and this was no different as he took took took. Claiming every inch of your mouth, groaning into the kiss as he pressed you against the wall. It felt desperate, and it was all too easy for your body to respond. 

When he felt the first hesitant brush of your tongue against his, his grip loosened on your wrists. As though he was testing the waters, he slowly let them go, hand lingering to see how you’d react before he moved it fully. When you didn’t strike him, he moved that hand to your face, cradling it strangely gently while his other hand stroked circles over your hip. 

He broke the kiss first, both of you gasping for breath, but you watched with confusion as a grin grew across his face. A quiet, dark laugh rumbled from his chest, and a feeling of dread settled over you when he brought his other hand up to hold your face. 

“This is the ‘why’,” he said. At your confused look, he stood up straight to kiss your forehead, lingering there as he spoke against your skin. One hand slid down from your face to hold your hip again. He couldn’t seem to stop moving them where he wanted, and his grip flexed like he was resisting the urge to dig his nails in again. “You asked me why I’m here. This is why. I came to reclaim what was mine.”  

Your head snapped up to look at him, pressing back against the wall as though that could create distance. “What? Volo, you can’t just decide something like that!” 

You inhaled sharply when the hand on your face moved down to your neck. Not squeezing hard, but holding. You could feel your own pulse speed up right underneath his thumb as he tutted at you. “Oh, but I already have. It was decided ago, while I was waiting for you to reappear.” 

He bent down to speak right against your ear as his hand tightened around your throat, voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re not getting rid of me this time. I won’t let you leave me again, dearest.” 

When he kissed you again, you quickly realized that he had actually been holding back during the last one. This time, he really was unyielding, and all-consuming. His hands also weren’t hesitating, as the one in your hip slid to dip between your legs. He went straight for your waistband, seemingly out of patience as he shoved his hand into your underwear. 

He groaned against your lips when his fingers found the wetness between your legs. It surprised you too, and you shuddered and shifted your hips when the tip of his middle finger just barely penetrated you. Like he was testing, or reacquainting himself. “Your body remembers me well,” he murmured against your lips. “Good, good.” 

You were reeling from realizing how right he was about that.

“I remember you liking this. Do you still?” He pulled back to look at you fully, and it was definitely a rhetorical question as his middle finger started stroking firm, slow circles over your clit. Your legs almost buckled from the sensation, and his grip on your neck forced you to keep yourself upright. 

When a long finger slid inside of you properly, he paused, just for a moment. The digit pulled out, and a second immediately joined, finding little resistance as they rocked in and out of you. As they did, your body betrayed you, hips twitching forward to take him deeper.

He hummed, contemplative. "You liked when I choked you as well, that night... That I remember very well. How filthy."

A quiet whimper left you at his words. His reaction was immediate. A growled, “fuck!” tore from his throat, and he removed his hand so suddenly, you almost cried out. 

Your body was moving before you realized what was happening. He was the one moving you, walking you back towards your couch as you struggled to move with him. When you stumbled over your own feet, he caught you easily, steadying you with strong arms until your feet were moving again. 

Then, you were spun around, and a large hand between your shoulders was pushing your upper body forward. Another was gripping your thigh, hoisting your ass up as your head was pushed down. A pathetic noise escaped your lips as you were manhandled into the position he wanted, your hands barely catching yourself on the cushions. When you tried to lift yourself up on your forearms, his hand moved to the back of your head, pressing you down. 

“I've waited too long already. I will not wait any longer,” he growled above you, and you could hear him struggle to undo his belt with one hand. There was a shuffle of fabric, and then your pants were being tugged down as well, panties coming with them. His hand found your asscheek, tugging you open obscenely before his thumb stroked over your entrance, dipping in briefly before pulling the digit back out. 

You really felt him, then. His cock came to rest on your ass, heavy and thick as he rubbed back and forth, before slowly sliding down to nudge at your entrance. A shudder ran though you, at the sensation and the memories of the last time you’d taken him like this. 

“Volo, please-” Even you weren’t sure if you were begging or protesting, but your words broke into a cry as he suddenly, finally, penetrated you. Carefully at first, you noticed. Just the tip stretching you out felt unfairly good, and your body reacted before your mind did, pressing back against him. He pulled out, however, and you bit back a noise when he rubbed his cock over your clit, coating himself in all of the sweet wetness dripping off of you. 

When he sank back in, he was unyielding. His moan was loud and unrestrained as he slowly, painstakingly slid himself inside of you. Your hands dug into the couch, unable to stop yourself from whimpering as your body stretched to accommodate him. When his hips were flush against your ass, he sighed in relief. 

 “Do you feel that?” He cooed, the hand holding your head down now stroking your hair too sweetly as your walls fluttered around him. “You were made for me. Taking me perfectly, even after all this time…” 

He was remarkably gentle as he pulled out, leaving just the tip inside of you once again. The gentleness then disappeared when the hand on your head twisted into your hair, and his hips snapped forward roughly. 

The pace he set was brutal right from the start. Impatient, intense, and desperate. 

It wasn't fair how good it felt being used.

“You cannot deny what has already been decided,” he panted. Your legs started to give out and he let you fall, following and fucking you through it as he pressed you flat against the couch. The angle made you wail, and his chest kept you pinned while his thrusts hit that sweet spot on your front wall incessantly. 

You tried to muffle your noises into the cushion, and his hand curled around your throat again, lifting your head up so he could hear you. His lips pressed against your temple, his voice rough as his hips worked mercilessly. “You’re going to come for me, dearest. You’re going to fall apart on my cock, and then I’m going to fill you with my come…” 

“...and then I’m going to do it again, and again, and again.” He punctuated each again with a particularly mean thrust, leaving you trembling underneath him as you moaned.

“You’re insane,” you sobbed, gasping when his hand tightened around your throat. 

“Maybe so,” he laughed. His other hand slid around your middle, forcing his way under your body, and you lifted for him. Just enough for him to reach your clit, and his pace never slowed as he stroked you with firm, small circles. Your whole body jerked underneath his, but you couldn’t move under his strength. You could only take every bit of pleasure he gave you. 

"Come for me, my sweet," he whispered, his breath hot right against your ear, and you did. You fell apart, wailing as your body seized and your vision went white.

He fucked you through it, never slowing and working your body into overstimulation. You still couldn't move away, tears pricking at your eyes as you babbled out pleas for him to slow down, until his rhythm finally faltered. He pressed in hard once, twice, and then you felt unbearably hot as he released inside of you, filling you just as he promised.

He released your throat then, but didn't move his body. His hand slid up into your hair, holding you close as he pressed kiss after kiss your temple and hair. He turned your head to kiss the edge of your lips, and he smiled when you tried to kiss him back.

"Finally..." he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. He tilted his head, and the movement uncovered his other eye. Gray, but you could have sworn there was a hint of red in the right one. "No matter how many years it took me... it was worth it."

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It has now been over a year since you first arrived in Hisui. You did your very best to adjust to local customs in a bid to appease the villagers, which worked more or less, but you still got quite homesick once certain dates came and went.

Today, it was February 14th. You had talked to Professor Laventon before, trying to figure out which holidays were celebrated in Jubilife, and you learned that although Galar and Unova celebrated Valentine's day, they were currently the only regions that did.

You were originally hoping to use the holiday to impress your crush, but if they had no idea why you got them a gift, would they understand the meaning behind it?

You decided to just roll with it, purchasing a nice pack of sweets from the candy stand, asking Bonn to wrap them extra nice. Gift in hand, you set out to find the one person you couldn't take your mind off of all this time.

Approaching them, you gave a quick greeting, and quickly started to explain the reason for your visit. "It's a holiday where I'm from", you said, suddenly shy, your bravery fading once you actually stood in front of them. "It's tradition to gift sweets or flowers to someone you really like. The receiving person may reciprocate a month later, but you really don't have to! I just wanted you to know... I appreciate you."

You held out the bundle of sweets in front of you, hopeful that they understood your meaning, waiting for their answer.

Adaman

Adaman's mind is as sharp as his face is handsome. He understood immediately, honestly having a hunch as to what your visit was about when you greeted him all shy and cute

Of course he accepts your generous gift! The effort put into it was obvious, you hand-selected the flavours to be of berries he mentioned in passing he enjoyed, with the packaging being a beautiful combo of shades of blue

You scuttled of rather quickly, before he managed to invite you to stay for dinner

It annoyed him that he didn't have a gift in return; had he asked more about you in the past, he could have known about the customs from your homeland. It certainly would have impressed you

But, the past can't be changed, so he looks towards the future; one that involves you by his side, hopefully

This man is neither a cook nor a baker, so he asks the ladies in the settlement to help him out. Rumours about their leader crushing on the hero of Hisui were already swirling among the clan members, and the elder ladies were delighted to hear that their Adaman was finally making a move. He would always stay their baby, after all, no matter how old he was or which position he held

Everyone really came together. The whole affair escalated into a bake-off, in which the winner's pastry got to be the gift Adaman would present to you. He didn't complain much, finding the perfect gift for you would never be a waste of time. Plus, he got to taste-test everything

On the 14th of March, he made his way to the village, pastry wrapped in a nice, patterned cloth (also vetted by the Diamond clan's ladies), ready to return the favor

He intended to ask you for courtship today, but his usual bravado was nowhere to be seen when he handed you the sweet treat, completely enthralled by your smiling face. Well, maybe on his next visit

Akari

She already has her mouth full of candy before you can finish your explaination

She's very intrigued, curious as always, and runs straight to the professor after waving goodbye to you

Akari promptly bombards Laventon with all kinds of questions. What's Valentine's about? How did it come to be? Why do people give gifts? Does the White Day gift have to be white??

Poor Laventon, he has no idea about that either. He only knows to give his wife a nice bouqet and cook dinner, everything else is lost on him as well

"Bouqet and dinner... Sounds easy enough! Thanks prof!" Before he could stop her, Akari had already run off, on a mission to source ingredients and flowers

Thankfully, Choy managed to talk her down from buying everything right away, explaining that the ingredients would go bad in a month's time. Akari was just so excited, she wanted to give you something right away!

It was getting dark when she found you again, about to go into your room. She ran up to you, almost barreling into you, stopping just centimeters in front of your face

"Hey! So. I know you said "in a month", but that's, like, in a month! So I got you this so you know I like you too right away!" Akari beamed at you, revealing the freshly picked flowers from behind her back, thrusting them into your face

Apparently she pulled them out by their roots. They still had a bit of dirt on them. But you didn't mind. Her gusto and enthusiasm for everything she did was what made you fall for her in the first place, after all

Irida

This girl is flabberghasted that you managed to pull a fast one on her. She always imagined herself to be the one to confess, by sunset at the beach preferrably, starting a beautiful courtship immediately and getting married in the spring-

Irida has a type A personality, preferring to plan out everything in advance. But how could she plan something she had no idea existed!

Of course, she gratefully accepted your gift, trying desperately to appear as unbothered as possible. It was so very very sweet of you to get her something, and she wanted to make sure you knew how much she appreciated it

At the same time, she tried to sneakily press you for more information on Valentine's and White Day. She swore then that would get you the perfect gift in return

The next month was spent planning and preparing. As embarrassing as she found it, Irida asked for advice from Palina, since her bestie had more experience with romance than her

"Well, I always melt when Iscan cooks for me", she said, her hand flying to her cheek, reminiscing about their secret dates in the coastlands and all the little things that made her fall for her fiance

Irida can cook. She totally can. She hasn't burned anything in-

Okay maybe she shouldn't cook. But the dinner idea was still very nice, and she knew exactly how to make it work

On White Day, you woke up to a note at your door, inviting you to the Wallflower at sunset. You could barely focus on anything else all day, excited to see whothe mysterious note-writer turned out to be

Arriving at the restaurant, you were greeted by a beautifully arranged table. Flowers, placemats, the whole shebang, not to mention a very nervous Irida sitting before you

"I thought talking over dinner would be nice", she said, blush taking over her face, "I wanted to make an effort, after you gave me such a nice gift."

Rei

Poor guy is completely flustered. A love holiday? And you chose him to give a gift to?? Oh wow. Oh my. That's... He's speechless. Completely. Which leads to him not say another words before waving goodbye and retreating to his room to calm down

It took him a whole hour to calm down enough to be able to leave the room without blushing profusely. But, if anything, it made him determined to not make you regret choosing him. He would give you a proper gift in return, in a month's time, as your tradition dictates

... Only he had no idea what to get you. And who could he ask, honestly? Akari claimed to know all about romance, but her advice was usually questionable. Laventon seemed like a good choice, until he remembered the disaster how his wedding anniversary a few months ago. In general, he eliminated the men he knew from his list. Kamado and Beni were still on your shit-list after the exile thing, and Ingo was... Confused, at the best of times

Which left him with the one woman he trusted most. The only sensible choice, really. Stepping into her office, Rei explained his plight, asking for her advice

"I see. That is complicated, yes." Cyllene stroked her chin, deep in thought. "You may have heard about flowers and sweets, but someone like them desires something different altogether. Lucky for you, your skills will prove useful."

It was a simple plan Cyllene outlined for him, and he truly wondered how he didn't think of it himself. He got to work immediately, tinkering with the gift for many nights until it was perfect. Now all he had to do was wait for March

In the morning hours of March 14th, just after the sun rose, you awoke to a soft knock on your door, opening it to reveal a very nervous Rei holding a rather large box

"Uhm... For, uh... For White day..." He practically shoved the box into your hands, quickly making his escape to around the corner, where he hoped you wouldn't see him peeking

Perplexed, you chuckled at his antics, and opened the box to find... Hyperballs?

"You won't have to craft for weeks! Hopeyoulikeitbyeeeee" Rei shouted from around the corner, sprinting towards Galaxy Hall, not looking back

Volo

He knows about Valentine's Day, actually. He's deeply interested in cultures of all kinds, and holidays are a central component of them. Besides, the guild kept droning on about "Valentine's sales" in other regions, so it was impossible to not hear about it

He tactically didn't get you anything. He wanted to see wether you were still interested in him first, since the whole Giratina thing created a rather big rift in your relationship. If he got you a gift and you rejected him, his ego would never recover

Of course, he had the perfect gift locked and loaded for weeks. Volo is an overthinker, obsessing over details and potential outcomes, so he took care of that early on. Now, he only had to get you alone, which proved much trickier than anticipated

While you didn't outright tell anyone what happened on Mt. Coronet, it was clear to everyone that something happened between you two, and your friends were less than amused. Whatever it was, they were sure that you had a good reason to be as angry at Volo as you were, and they did everything in their power to keep him away from you

Which was fine, for a while. Until your anger faded and you were ready to forgive him. Your friends though, bless them, still ran interference, suspicious and unwilling to entrust him with you

His best bet might be to slip in your room at night, although he was sure the night guards would have something to say about that. Perhaps a scheduled meeting, then? Slipping you a note should be easy enough

Which is what he did the next time you stopped by the guild wagon. "Obsidian Fieldlands, Floaro Gardens, March 14, 7pm"

He tried to tell himself that this was no big deal. If you came, great. If you didn't, he'd just cry himself to sleep for the rest of his life. No biggie

That day, you left early in the morning, off to do your survey work. Volo didn't know to which region of Hisui you went; he could only hope you were on your way to the fieldlands

You once told him that this time of year saw new Cherubi sprouting, perhaps you were off to research them? Before everything, he would have never bothered to remember something as miniscule as this. You really managed to soften him up, he thought

Sunset rolled around and Volo made his way to the flower fields, nervous despite himself. He wouldn't fault you for hating him, for playing a prank with the gift you gave him, making him think there was a chance after all-

There you stood, among the Gracidea flowers, looking as nervous as he felt. Since you actually showed up, surely you would hear him out, right?

Once you exchanged greetings, Volo took off that ridiculously big backpack, rummaging through it to produce an envelope

"All the rage in Galar, or so I've heard", he said, handing it to you. Sceptically, you opened it to find... A card? "I understand we aren't exactly... Lovers, at this point, but I thought this might be a first step to smoothing things over."

Opening the card, you began to read what could only be described as the most rueful love letter you have ever seen

"My dearest, my regrets run deeper than the caves of the highlands, farther than the vastness of Hisui itself. To see your beautiful eyes shimmer with tears broke my heart anew, and I finally realized-"

Lips!

A classic, one could describe your boyfriend as a hopeless romantic if he prefers this type of kiss. Whether it be a chaste peck before rushing off to work or a deep and sensual one while you’re both tangled in each other’s embrace, your boyfriend absolutely turns into a pile of mush once your lips meet his. Just make sure to find a private space before the makeout session or else his poor pokémon will end up walking in on you both again.

GRISHAM, Sycamore, GRIMSLEY, Piers (please tell me you see the vision), Steven Stone

Neck!

You bagged a cheeky fellow it seems! One kiss from him never fails to leave you a flustered mess, and he knows that. The bastard loves to exploit that weakness of yours (in a good way, most of the time). The thing about his kisses is that you’ll never see them coming, you could be peacefully minding your own business one moment and in the next, he’ll sneak up and give your neck a playful nibble.

CORBEAU, Raihan, Wallace, VOLO, Grimsley

Tummy!

It doesn’t matter whether you’ve got any chub or not, your boyfriend here does not discriminate. You’re now officially his personal pillow. He’s tired? He’ll rest on your tummy. He lost a battle? He’ll rest on your tummy (and make you give him kisses). You’re feeling insecure about your body image? No problem, he’ll rest on your tummy and pepper it with tons of kisses because you deserve the whole world in his eyes.

GUZMA, Ingo, IVOR, Piers, Raihan

Hands!

Being the gentleman he is, it’s your boyfriend’s go-to option for when he wants to show you some affection. It is also proven to be very effective at chasing off anyone hitting on you (though you suspect it’s mainly because of how intimidating he is). Bonus points if he starts leaving behind a few fleeting kisses on your wrist before nuzzling his cheek into your palm for good measure. (He might also bite your fingers if he’s feeling a bit mean but it’s just to tease you.)

N, STEVEN STONE, Lysandre, Cyrus, PHILIPPE, Grisham

Credits: dividers by @/enchanthings, icons found on pinterest

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