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multific · 2 months ago

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A Still Life in Love

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: What better way to capture someone's likeness than a painting?

Geta, one of the twin rulers of the Roman Empire.

He sat in complete silence, his gaze focused on every petition brought before him.

To his senators and generals, he was a ruthless man.

He and his brother roughly enjoyed games, blood and wine.

Whispers of their coldness echoed through the palace halls, and yet none dared question their authority.

But you knew another side of Geta, a side he showed only to you and on occasion to his brother.

When the court adjourned for the day, he rushed back to his chambers, ready for some time alone with you, his wife.

You entered his chambers with a soft knock not long after him.

“Amor,” As his eyes met yours, he smiled. “I’ve been waiting to see you finally.”

You stepped into the room, Geta stood and closed the distance between you, his hand reaching for yours. “How was your day?” you asked.

He sighed, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Tired as ever. I am tired of the fools who believe they can outsmart me. But you brighten even my darkest hours.”

Moments like these were rare treasures.

The love he had for you was there in every smile, every touch, and every word spoken.

It was this love that inspired him to commission a portrait of you.

It was something that left you speechless. Just how serious he was when it came to you.

The painter was summoned weeks later, an acclaimed artist from Gaul.

His skill was unmatched, but he quickly learned that the challenge wouldn’t be capturing your beauty.

It would be dealing with the Emperor himself.

“You will make her radiant. No brushstroke will do her justice, but you will try. If you do not do as you are told...”

The artist nodded quickly, his hands trembling as he set down his materials.

You hid a smile, watching as Geta stood over him like a hawk.

The moment the painter raised his brush, Geta’s voice cut through the silence. Almost making the artist jump out of his skin.

“Do not forget the light in her eyes. It’s the first thing I noticed about her.”

“Geta,” you said gently, “Let him work, please.”

He exhaled sharply and took a step back.

But instead of leaving, he found a seat near the window, his gaze on you. “I will stay. This is important.”

And so began the sittings, each more revealing than the last.

The painter didn't dare complain about Geta’s interruptions, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed.

You actually found it quite adorable.

The Emperor of Rome, a man feared by millions, sat still, his focus on you.

One afternoon, as the painter adjusted his palette, you noticed Geta watching you with something in his eyes. It made you feel a bit shy.

“Why are you looking at me that way?” you asked, half-teasing.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “Because you’re mine. And because I want the world to see you as I do. Perfect, irreplaceable, and breathtaking.”

“Perfect, am I? Even when I argue with you?”

A low chuckle escaped him. “Especially then. Your fire reminds me that I’ve married a woman, not a shadow.”

The painter cleared his throat awkwardly, and you turned back to your pose, pushing down a laugh. Geta remained seated, his attention solely on you the artist continued.

Days turned into weeks, and the portrait was almost completed.

Geta’s pride in the work was noticeable. “Will you look?”

“Not until it’s finished,” you replied. You were actually interested in how he saw you.

And this portrait would be a perfect representation of his love for you.

He frowned slightly, but you kissed his cheek, hoping to ease his disappointment. “Patience, My Love.”

When the day finally came to unveil the portrait, Geta was practically jumping up and down with excitement.

You stood beside him as the velvet cloth was removed, revealing the masterpiece.

The artist had captured not just your likeness but the warmth and intelligence in your eyes.

In the painting, the traits Geta cherished most were the most permanent.

Your breath hitched. “It’s beautiful.”

“No, you’re beautiful. This is but a shadow of the truth.”

The artist, sensing his dismissal, quickly gathered his belongings and ran. Too afraid to become the next feast for Geta's beloved tigers.

As the door closed, Geta turned to you fully. “Do you see now why I insisted on this? I wanted the world to know the woman who owns my heart.”

“Geta, I’m just me.”

“You are everything,” he pulled you into his arms.

His lips brushed your forehead, then your cheek, before capturing your lips in a kiss that spoke louder than any word.

The portrait was placed in the grand hall.

Geta insisted that everyone who was walking the hall must see it.

But in Geta’s eyes, no painting could ever compare to the reality of having you by his side.

For the Emperor who ruled with his brother, you were his only beauty, his greatest treasure.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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heliosunny · 3 months ago

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ur yandere crown prince!phainon x reader fic was so delicious i hope you write more of it

I wrote a ton of drafts for these rq :)))) so here u r~

also does anyone know any artists that I can contact and ask for their art permission to feature the fics? Will def give full credits ✨✨ i tried to dm some but they r too busy

Yandere!Crown Prince Phainon x Reader - P2

Visit [part 1]

Your days of healing were slow, yet never lonely. Phainon remained at your side, his devotion unwavering. He ensured you were comfortable, personally overseeing your meals, your medicine, and the servants attending you.

“You needn’t stay with me all day.” you murmured weakly one evening, attempting to reassure him.

His eyes softened, but his voice was firm. “Where else would I be?”

Even on the darkest nights, when you stirred from fevered dreams, he was there—his hand brushing away the damp strands of hair from your forehead, his voice a quiet promise that you would never suffer alone.

Your interactions were not without company. Mydei, Anaxa, and Castorice visited frequently, each bringing a different kind of relief.

“I must admit, I never expected to see His Highness so domestic” Anaxa mused one afternoon, lounging in a chair across from your bed as Phainon carefully adjusted your pillows.

“Perhaps he intends to abandon the throne and become a caretaker” Castorice teased.

Phainon, unimpressed, shot them both a glare. “Mock me again, and I’ll have you both reassigned to the coldest region in the kingdom.”

Mydei merely sipped his tea. “A small price to pay to witness this sight.”

You laughed softly, the warmth in your chest easing the discomfort in your body. “You all act as though His Highness is incapable of kindness.”

Anaxa smirked. “Oh, he is plenty kind—to you.”

Phainon sighed and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “If you’re all finished with your nonsense, she needs rest.”

Despite his scolding, the presence of his closest allies eased the burdens of war and betrayal—if only for a moment.

Though bedridden, you refused to be idle. As soon as your strength allowed, you assisted Phainon with his paperwork, offering insights and solutions that even his advisors had overlooked.

“You do not need to exhaust yourself with this.” Phainon had told you, watching as you scribbled notes beside him.

“I may not hold a sword, but my mind is still sharp” you replied, meeting his gaze with quiet determination.

He stared at you for a long moment before a rare, fond smile graced his lips. “That, my love, is undeniable.”

Your counsel became invaluable. Even in his darkest days, when the weight of war and treachery threatened to consume him, you were there to steady him.

“You are not alone in this” you reminded him, reaching for his hand.

Phainon exhaled, his fingers lacing with yours. “Then stay by my side always.”

You did.

But that loyalty made you a target.

Many sought to harm Phainon, seeing you as his greatest weakness. Assassination attempts were frequent, but none succeeded. You remained wary, but one day, you overheard something chilling—a plot to poison your husband.

That night, you clasped his hand tightly. “Do not drink from your goblet at tomorrow’s council meeting.”

Phainon stilled. “What did you hear?”

You explained in hushed tones. He listened, silent and composed, but beneath the surface, a storm raged.

“They should trouble you no more” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

The next morning, the traitors never made it past the palace gates.

Phainon had acted swiftly, eliminating the conspirators before their poison could ever reach him.

But the attack had shifted something in him.

“I have been too lenient,” he told you one evening, standing by the window, eyes dark with thought. “If they continue to see you as my weakness, they will never stop.”

The next day, he left to secure the borders and reinforce the kingdom’s security.

Though he was gone, he ensured you were protected. Mydei, ever reliable, checked on you frequently.

“I don’t know whether to be honored or exhausted” Mydei sighed one evening, setting down a fresh report. “His Highness treats me as your personal shadow.”

“And yet, you do not complain” you noted with a smile.

He smirked. “How could I, when you provide better conversation than half the court?”

Despite Phainon’s instructions for you not to overthink, you couldn’t help yourself. Late into the nights, you drafted plans, strategies to strengthen his efforts and had Mydei deliver them.

“You should rest” Mydei warned. “His Highness would not be pleased if he knew you were losing sleep over his affairs.”

“Then do not tell him” you replied simply.

Though he shook his head, Mydei never failed to deliver your letters.

One day, you received an unexpected visitor. A delegation from a foreign kingdom had arrived, requesting an audience. Among them was their prince, a striking man with sharp eyes and a confident air.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” he greeted, offering a practiced smile. “I have heard much of your wisdom.”

Something about the way he looked at you—too keen, too interested—put you on edge.

The foreign prince sat across from you in the grand receiving hall, his presence commanding yet unfamiliar. His kingdom had sent an official delegation, but his interest in you felt far more personal.

“I have heard much of your wisdom, Your Highness.” he said smoothly, offering a charming yet calculating smile. “It is no wonder your husband values your counsel so highly.”

You kept your posture composed, your hands delicately folded in your lap. “You flatter me” you replied politely, though your instincts urged caution.

“It is not flattery, merely truth” he countered, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. “I find it fascinating that a woman of your intellect and grace holds such influence over the kingdom’s future.”

You stiffened slightly, recognizing the underlying implication. This was not just a diplomatic visit—he was testing boundaries.

Phainon rode back to the capital sooner than expected, his presence heralded by the sight of his royal banner unfurling against the evening sky.

He had been away for weeks, ensuring the kingdom’s borders were secure, eradicating threats before they could reach you. But the moment Mydei’s latest report reached him—detailing the foreign prince—he abandoned all else.

The throne, the court, the war—none of it mattered in that instant.

Only you.

The moment he stepped foot in the palace, he demanded answers.

“Where is she?” His voice was ice, sharp enough to cut through the air.

Mydei met his gaze steadily. “With the foreign delegation, Your Highness.”

The sound of Phainon’s gloves tightening around his sword hilt cut him off.

Without another word, he strode toward the receiving hall.

You felt the change in the air before you saw him.

A sudden tension rippled through the court as the heavy doors to the hall slammed open.

Phainon stood at the entrance, his blue eyes burning with cold fury. His cloak billowed behind him as he stepped forward, each movement deliberate, controlled—but the grip on his sword said otherwise.

The foreign prince looked up, clearly intrigued rather than intimidated. “Ah, Your Highness. We were just speaking of you.”

Phainon’s gaze never left yours. “Leave.”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Phainon turned his head slightly—just enough to fix the man with a chilling glare. “I said, leave. Before I stain this floor with your blood.”

The court fell silent.

You rose gracefully from your seat, placing a calming hand on Phainon’s arm. “My love, we must not—”

“Did he touch you?” Phainon asked lowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, startled by the lethal edge to his tone. “No, of course not.”

“Then he still breathes only because of that.”

The foreign prince chuckled, clearly entertained. “Your reputation precedes you, Crown Prince. I meant no offense—only admiration.”

Phainon’s expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his body was palpable.

“Admiration is not an excuse to covet what belongs to me.”

His words sent a chill through the room.

You sighed internally. If you didn’t intervene now, there would be bloodshed.

“Your Highness” you addressed the foreign prince with measured calm, “perhaps it is best we conclude this meeting. My husband has just returned, and I would prefer to greet him in peace.”

For a moment, the prince hesitated—then he smiled knowingly, as if he had learned something from this encounter.

“Of course, Crown Princess. Until we meet again.”

Phainon did not move until the foreign prince had fully exited the hall.

The moment the doors shut behind him, Phainon exhaled sharply, turning to you with eyes still dark with restrained fury.

“Why was he here?”

“Diplomatic matters” you answered honestly. “He arrived unexpectedly, and I could not refuse an audience.”

His jaw tightened. “You should have sent him away.”

“And insult his kingdom?” You shook your head. “You know as well as I do that—”

“I do not care for his kingdom.” His voice was low, dangerous. “I care for you.”

He reached forward, grasping your hands—gently, but with an urgency that sent warmth through your fingertips.

“You are my wife. My Queen-to-be. I will not tolerate another man looking at you the way I do.”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.

You had always known Phainon’s love was possessive. But in this moment, you realized—his devotion had deepened into something even more dangerous.

“You do not need to be jealous” you murmured, squeezing his hands.

“It is not jealousy,” he corrected softly. “It is certainty. Certainty that you are mine, and mine alone.”

You sighed, stepping closer. “Then let me ease your worries.”

Phainon searched your expression, as if looking for reassurance, before his hand came up to cradle your face.

“If he or anyone else dares look at you again, I will end them before they even breathe your name.”

The foreign prince’s departure did not bring peace. If anything, it only stirred the waters further.

Days after the tense encounter, rumors swept through the court—whispers that the foreign kingdom had taken offense to Phainon’s hostility. Some nobles feared war, while others murmured about the foreign prince’s persistence.

And then, one night, a letter arrived.

Delivered in secrecy, sealed with foreign wax.

Phainon found it first.

He recognized the handwriting immediately—too refined, too familiar.

“I was most intrigued by our meeting, Your Highness. I regret we did not have more time to speak in private. I will not give up so easily. Expect to see me again soon.”

The parchment crumpled in his grip.

The fool had dared to send you a personal letter.

Phainon’s hand twitched toward his sword, his first instinct to ride out and end this persistent nuisance before he could step foot in the kingdom again.

But then, he breathed.

Killing him now would make the foreign prince a martyr. A justified war.

No—Phainon would play this game his way.

And he would ensure this man never had a chance to see you again.

The foreign prince's entourage vanished at the border, their horses found wandering near the cliffs. The official reports claimed an unfortunate accident—bandits, perhaps, or a treacherous fall during the night.

But those who truly understood the workings of the kingdom knew better.

When you heard the news, you merely glanced at Phainon over dinner.

“Did you do this?”

He took a slow sip of his wine before replying. “Do you truly wish to know?”

You held his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. “No.”

A small, satisfied smile curled at his lips. “Then let us speak of other matters.”

The foreign prince was not the only one who coveted you.

Among the noble families, admiration turned to resentment. Many had once hoped to claim the position you now held, and among them was Lady Evanthe, the daughter of a powerful Duke.

She had been raised to believe she would one day stand beside Phainon as queen.

But you had stolen that future.

And she would not forgive you for it.

One evening, as you walked through the palace gardens, a voice called out to you.

“Your Highness.”

You turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Lady Evanthe. She was beautiful—icy and composed, draped in a flowing white gown that gave her an almost ghostly presence under the moonlight.

“Lady Evanthe” you acknowledged cautiously.

She curtsied, but there was no warmth in her movements. “Forgive me for the sudden approach, but I wished to speak with you alone. It is a matter of… concern.”

You did not trust her. But you were not a coward.

“Then speak.”

She tilted her head. “Do you truly believe you are suited to be queen?”

You raised a brow. “That is not for me to decide. It is Phainon’s will, and the will of the king.”

Her lips curved slightly. “Yes. But wills can change.”

A threat. Thinly veiled, but a threat nonetheless.

You did not flinch. “What are you suggesting?”

Evanthe stepped closer. “I am suggesting that your presence is unnatural. You have disrupted what should have been, stolen what was meant for another. You were not born for this role. You were not raised for it. You are a mere daughter of a noble house—nothing more.”

“And yet, I stand where you do not.”

Her smile faltered. “Do you think yourself untouchable?”

“No,” you said evenly. “But I am protected.”

And as if summoned by your words, a shadow loomed behind you. Phainon.

His arrival was silent, but his presence was suffocating. His blue eyes flickered to Evanthe, sharp as a blade.

“Lady Evanthe,” he greeted, voice deceptively calm. “You seem lost.”

She took a step back, stiffening. “Your Highness, I was merely—”

“Insulting my wife” he interrupted smoothly.

A beat of silence.

“That was not my intention—”

“Oh?” Phainon’s gaze darkened. “Then I must be mistaken. But I do so hate being mistaken.”

Evanthe paled. She knew what he was. She knew what he could do.

And yet, she had been foolish enough to believe she could challenge you.

“This will be the last time you speak to her” Phainon continued “If I so much as hear your name in her presence again, I will erase your house from history.”

Evanthe swallowed hard, her fingers trembling at her sides.

“Do you understand?”

She curtsied—low, deep, desperate. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Without another word, she turned and fled.

You sighed, glancing at Phainon. “You didn’t have to terrify her.”

He looked down at you, expression unreadable. “Do you want them to challenge you?”

You hesitated. “No, but—”

“Then let them fear.”

His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together.

“You are mine” he murmured. “And I will burn down this kingdom before I let anyone take you from me.”

Disguised in simple clothing, you had slipped past the palace gates under the cover of dusk, accompanied only by a single trusted handmaiden. You had always known that rulers must understand their people, but what you witnessed in the city left a heavy weight in your chest. Cracked roads, hungry children, merchants struggling under unfair taxation—troubles that never reached the palace halls. You knew Phainon was focused on war and politics, but this? This needed to be fixed.

By the time you returned to the palace, you were already drafting solutions in your mind to present to him first thing in the morning.

But Phainon had found out before then. And he was waiting.

The moment you stepped into your chambers, the air shifted.

"Close the door" came a voice from the shadows.

Your heart skipped. The handmaiden behind you flinched, bowing quickly before retreating. The doors shut.

You turned slowly.

Phainon sat in the chair near the window, bathed in moonlight. His eyes glowed in the dim room, sharp and unreadable.

"Did you think I wouldn’t know?" His voice was dangerously soft.

You swallowed, steadying yourself. "I had a reason—"

"You disobeyed me."

You exhaled sharply. "Phainon, I do not exist solely to obey you."

He stood, and in an instant, he was in front of you, close enough for his warmth to press against your skin, close enough for you to see the way his jaw tensed in barely contained fury.

"You left the palace alone," he seethed. "Without guards. Without me."

"I needed to see things for myself" you countered, refusing to step back. "There are people suffering under policies that have gone unnoticed—"

"And what would have happened if someone recognized you? If they had tried to take you from me?"

You hesitated, but only for a breath. "Then I would have dealt with it."

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Would you? Would you have fought them while injured? While still recovering from the last attempt on your life?"

Silence.

Then, he inhaled, slow and controlled.

"You don’t understand." he murmured, voice quieter now—but no less intense. "Every time you are out of my sight, I can feel the threats closing in. I can feel the daggers aimed at your back. You are my greatest treasure, and yet you walk straight into the lion’s den without hesitation."

Your heart ached.

"I’m not trying to make you worry" you whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly, his forehead pressing against yours.

"And yet you do."

For a moment, the world stilled.

Then, a sudden clank echoed through the chamber, followed by a low thud.

The two of you turned sharply.

The door.

Locked.

Phainon’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stepped forward, testing the handle. When it didn’t budge, his gaze darkened. "Someone will die for this."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "It’s the wind, Phainon. The lock on this door is old—it must have fallen into place when the door shut."

He didn’t look convinced.

"So we’re stuck?"

"Until morning, most likely."

A long silence.

Then, without warning, Phainon turned, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you effortlessly into his arms.

"What are you—?"

"If we are to be trapped, we might as well be comfortable." he stated, carrying you toward the bed.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "I can walk, you know."

"And yet you do not stop me."

You scowled, but didn’t protest.

Lying in the dim candlelight, neither of you spoke for a long while.

Then, softly- "I’m sorry" you said.

Phainon stilled beside you.

You turned to face him, eyes sincere. "I won’t apologize for wanting to help the people, but I will apologize for worrying you."

His eyes studied you, unreadable at first, then, slowly, something softened in them.

"I should not cage you" he admitted. "I know that. And yet, the thought of losing you—" He exhaled. "It would unmake me."

Your chest ached. Gently, you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Then let me promise you this," you whispered. "I will be careful. I will not put myself at risk needlessly. But in return, you must trust me to act when I see injustice."

He was silent.

Then, finally, he squeezed your hand.

"Very well."

You smiled, relieved.

But just as you began to relax, a shiver ran through you.

Cold.

Phainon noticed instantly.

"You’re trembling."

"I’m fine" you lied, though the way you curled into yourself said otherwise.

He tsked, pulling you into his warmth. "Foolish woman" he murmured against your hair. "You’ve caught a cold."

You groaned. "It’s not my fault."

"Oh, but it is" he teased, a smirk curling his lips. "Weak from your last injury, sneaking out into the cold air… truly, you should be grateful that I am strong. At least our future children will have excellent physical condition."

You swatted at him weakly. "Phainon!"

He chuckled, shifting to hold you closer, his arms an unyielding shield around you.

"Sleep" he murmured. "I will be here when you wake."

#yandere x reader #yandere #phainon honkai star rail #phainon hsr #phainon x reader #hsr phainon #phainon #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr

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glamourscat · 4 months ago

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୨ৎ Beautiful as...? BLLK edition

BACHIRA, CHIGIRI, BAROU, KAISER, RIN, ISAGI, REO, NAGI, SHIDOU

Bachira: beautiful as a fair carnival

His light and contagious smile can brighten a whole room. His presence, in a way, makes you feel like a child again. Running around and seeing the world through “naive” eyes. Staring off in space taken aback by the bright, colourful lights. High on way too much sugar. Seeing the beauty in life, aware that there are dangers and challenges out there, but for now, not knowing them is better than anything.

Chigiri: beautiful as spring

When the leaves come back, filled with life and green. Bright, vibrant flowers dot the grass. He is a splash of color that persists even on the darkest days, a lingering reminder that “everything will be okay.” The sun will shine again tomorrow.

Reo: beautiful as the ocean

The calm waves, the sea breeze and that distinctive seaside smell. The sand between your toes, the warm embrace of the sun and the cool water wrapping you in a blanket of shivers and warmth at the same time.

Shidou: beautiful as a museum

Different artists, different paintings, different forms of art. A carefully threaded puzzle filled with emotions, explosions of thoughts, liberty, and need. The need to scream, to ensure someone hears it. The need for a revolution. The hope that someone will remember you.

Kaiser: beautiful as a thunderstorm at night

Not everyone likes it, but many still enjoy it. The clouds fill the dark sky, illuminated by occasional flashes of lightning. It can give you chills just as it can give you comfort.

Isagi: beautiful as the moment after it stops raining

The smell lingers in the air, following you wherever you go. The sky starts to open up, grey clouds mixing with white and the sky is turning a lighter shade of blue. The faint sun rays start to poke through, a welcome touch against your cold skin. The few drops of water still present on the leaves of the trees might, or might not, fall on your head as you walk under them.

Nagi: beautiful as heavy snow

That serene feeling of no school, no work, no worries. The streets filled with mountains of snow, cold yet inviting to jump into. At first glance, soft yet hard and firm. Playful and forgiving when it wants to.

Rin: beautiful as a summer night

Nothing is forever. Summer, just as it came, will end too. It’s the feeling of looking out of your window, smelling the scent that’s unique to summer. Hearing the night insects’ serenade in the distance as you look at the stars with nothing particular on your mind. There’s a nostalgia hitting you, you’re not sure why. Your chest feels a bit heavier and emptier at the same time. You find yourself closing your eyes to soak in this feeling.

Barou: beautiful as fire

Destructive in some cases, yet warm and comforting in others. Wild and untamable. You think you have the upper hand but one piece of wood too much and everything is ablaze. Only the most skilled know how to control it. Not tame it, but understand it. Being able to turn the wild, bursting flame into something softer, something that feels like home.

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 1 month ago

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DRABBLE: Rockstar!BF!Dabi x Popstar!GF!Reader

Warnings: Smutty Smut: 18+; BF!Dabi x GF!Reader; No Quirk AU; Secret Relationship Trope; Industry Couple; Sneaky Sex; Public Sex; Spit Play; Tattoos & Piercings; Dabi Has A LONG Dick & A Dick Piercing; Spit Play; Facial & Creampie Mention

Writer's Note: The reader's pop-star aesthetic is heavily inspired by Ms. Sabrina Carpenter aka my wifey poo, my girlfriend & my absolutely obsession. She is just so super cute & I live for her aesthetic. Enjoy! -Jazz

*****************

You've been secretly dating Rockstar!Dabi for some time now.

Rockstar!Dabi who is as wild, brash, and bad as they come. Whose muscles are inked in tattoos and brandishes piercings in his ears, eyebrows, nipples, and his plump bottom lip.

Rockstar!Dabi who has been topping charts with his electric songs that mix together old 80s rock and modern alternative, brought together and wrapped in a bow by his raspy yet attractive and smooth voice.

Rockstar!Dabi who doesn't give a fuck. Who will flip off paparazzi, flirt whoever he wants, and will drink at award shows despite the cameras and public outrage the next day.

Rockstar!Dabi who has totally stolen your heart. Who is your top favorite male artist out at the moment. Who gave you butterflies and attracted you the very moment you heard him sing into your eardrums and strummed those guitar strings.

Rockstar!Dabi who has secretly been listening to you for quite some time: you, the biggest female pop star who hit the scene and doesn't seem to be leaving anytime soon.

Rockstar!Dabi who adores the way you embody cuteness and sexiness with your cutesy, girlypop aesthetic, mini dresses and skirts, and flirty choreography.

Rockstar!Dabi who never fails to be hooked from the way you sing your love songs and fun pop hits fit for the radio in your saccharine-sweet little voice.

Rockstar!Dabi who was more than ready for you when you very boldly (and drunkenly) shot your "shot" at him during a red carpet interview when you were asked if you had a boyfriend. "No," you giggled, turning to the camera. "But if Dabi is interested, I'm down for whatever!"

Rockstar!Dabi who slid into your DMs that very night on Twitter and asked you, "So are you down for a date with me? Hit me up if you are" and dropped his number only to wake up to you having texted him that morning.

Rockstar!Dabi who is as good of a secret boyfriend as he is an artist and is aware that your management is totally strict when it comes to your "image" because of the tween girls and stuck-up parents who feel the need to criticize any female artist that shows even a minuscule of sexuality.

Rockstar!Dabi who has no problem sneaking around to meet you at hotels, in the late hours at your condo, or sending a driver to scoop you up to come to his penthouse. Who sneaks out to see you at shows and lock lips in the darkest corners of a nightclub.

Rockstar!Dabi who can put it down like no other. Who has given you the hottest sex you've ever had. Who can kiss like he's done it for years and eats pussy like it's his profession.

Rockstar!Dabi who chokes you and spanks your ass hard enough to leave handprints as he drills your pussy into the bed, making it bounce and creak as your moans fill the bedroom and his rasped voice croons into your ear: "Yeah, cutie? Do it feel good? Is this rockstar dick so nice, hm?"

Rockstar!Dabi who has a long, curved, beautiful cock and a piercing dangling from his dickhead that you lick, suck, and nibble on as he fucks your pretty face, using your mouth to stroke his cock as he groans and grunts about how beautiful his "pretty princess" looks getting her throat fucked.

Rockstar!Dabi who can be an asshole at times and makes you beg to cum until you're sobbing, tears wetting your thick lashes.

Who has ruined your makeup many times before important TV appearances or concerts because he pushes it into the pillow or paints it with his spunk, forcing you to redo it yourself or lie to your makeup artists.

Who has ripped off your panties and has stolen one of your pink thongs, keeping it stowed away in his crib and sometimes stroking his cock to your scent when you're too busy to call, but then he bombardes your phone with photos of his hard dick.

Rockstar!Dabi who is such an amazing lover that he inspires you to write the freakiest, nastiest, naughtiest song you have ever written that only sounds cutesy because of the upbeat pop instrumental and your sweet voice singing the raunchy lyrics.

Rockstar!Dabi who laughs when you send him the demo track when you finish recording it and teases you about dropping it, but you swear up and down that it is "just for fun" and you have no intention of dropping it in fear of your manager blowing a gasket.

Rockstar!Dabi who damn near fights the internet and nearly does a drive-by on your manager when the song leaks one morning and you call him crying. Who races to your condo to find you in your Sanrio PJs and your pretty face soaked in tears. Who holds you in his lap and croons, "C'mon, babydoll, tell Daddy what he can do for you."

Rockstar!Dabi who fully supports you deciding to officially drop the song despite your manager's refusal to promote it and secretly attends the meeting you have with him, sitting outside the office. Who has to force himself to not barge in and wring the old man's neck for treating his girl like disposal industry trash.

Rockstar!Dabi who supports the fuck out of your new song titled "Play Me Like A Guitar" and cheekily leaves comments on your posts about it, saying how he'd like to do more to you to get more songs written about him and how you sound so sexy on the track that he wants to do you again.

Rockstar!Dabi who is elated at the chance to become "official" with you when you invite him as your date to an award show and you walk together, hand in hand in a matching crimson-red gown and suit, onto the red carpet.

Rockstar!Dabi who makes a show of squeezing your ass and proudly sports your lipstick kisses on his neck and cheek as the cameras flash. Who whispers "You're fuckin' beautiful" and promises to fuck you after the event as the cameras catch every tiny movement you make.

Rockstar!Dabi who fulfills his promise and indeed, fucks you dumb after the event in a limbo because he won an award and needs to show you that you're the prettiest trophy he has ever won.

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black writers #bnha smut #dabi x y/n #daddy dabi #dabi smut #dabi x reader #bnha drabble #smutty drabble #dabi x fem!reader

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luvsizedfrellie · 2 months ago

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Bruh pink ribbon, and some stupid feelings

You really thought you were being funny. The whole plan was flawless. Ellie's head was heavy in your lap, auburn hair framed messily around her face, strands curling in odd directions where sleep had taken control. Her breathing was even, steady, her lips parted just slightly as if she might mutter something in her sleep at any moment, completely unaware of the evil brewing above her. A pink ribbon—faded, fraying at the edges, but perfect had made its way into your possession earlier that day. It was just lying around, abandoned like fate wanted you to have it. And you wasn't one to ignore fate, especially when it handed you the perfect tool for mischief.

So, carefully, gently, you gathered Ellie's messy auburn hair, smoothing it out, fingers threading through the strands with an ease that had become second nature, surprising even yourself with how neat the knot turned out. It sat perched perfectly ridiculously atop Ellie's head. You tilted your head, inspecting your handiwork like an artist appraising a masterpiece, the contrast was sending you into silent, shaky fits of laughter. You had to bite your knuckle to stop yourself from waking Ellie up right then and ruining it all. "Oh my god. You look so.."

But as the seconds dragged, your amusement started to soften. At first, you figured it was just because the pink bow started looking more absurd the longer you stared. But it wasn't that.

Ellie was genuinely, cute as fuck.

You frowned, your full lips pressing together in a small, involuntary expression of displeasure.

You were supposed to be bullying Ellie, not melting into a pile of goo over how goddamn adorable she looked. This was not the plan, you scolded yourself in your mind, trying to push the warmth from your chest. You weren't supposed to find Ellie cute like this. Ellie was supposed to look like an awkward fucking mess with a stupid bow on her head, and you were supposed to laugh your ass off. But instead, you were staring down at Ellie like you had found the most precious thing in the world.

Your fingers, which had been twirling a loose auburn strand, stilled against Ellie's forehead. Without thinking, you smoothed it back, letting your touch linger for just a second longer than necessary. Ellie murmured something in her sleep, brows knitting briefly before settling again.

Your heart clenched, swallowing hard, forcing your eyes back up to the pink bow.

You pouted without even realizing it, your perfect plan turning on you. "What the hell. You're s'pposed to look silly, not cute, sugar." you muttered under your breath, keeping your words quiet so they wouldn't disturb your best friend. "Fucking… adorable. Stupid ribbon. Stupid… perfect… face."

Your hand hovering above the little pink bow, nudging it lightly with your fingertips but not undoing it. You should rip it off. Should yank the bow free and let Ellie wake up none the wiser. Pretend you weren't sitting here, blushing over your best friend. Pretend this wasn't making you feel all kinds of ways you weren't prepared to deal with.

But you didn't.

Instead, you let out a soft, defeated sigh and lightly brushed the side of Ellie's face where her freckles were the darkest, you cursed yourself silently, indulging in wasn't the right thing to do at the moment but it wasn't entirely your fault—it wasn't your fault if Ellie looked like this, helplessly sweet and like she belonged right here on your lap.

Ellie's nose scrunched slightly, her face twitching as though trying to bat away a fly in her sleep. You froze as Ellie gave a quiet, sleepy murmur before nuzzling back into your lap, completely unaware of your emotional crisis battling up above her. You swallowed thickly, shifting without disturbing her.

"God. You’re so fucking cute it hurts, Ellie." you grumbled under your breath.

#let's start a trend #ellie x pink bow = cuteeee #ellie x fem reader #ellie tlou #ellie x reader

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himasgod · 6 months ago

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masterlist! +

(Welcome to my masterlist where I include all my works to make them more accessible! I update it every day with new works, so remember to save it or review it frequently!)

REQUESTS are open and WELCOME, so don't be shy!

(Remember that I write about all the characters except the child model ones, so if there are any that aren't here, I'll eventually include them!)

Warning: THIS MASTERLIST IS OUT OF DATE!! If you want to see my latest works, please scroll down my profile and you'll find them!

WARNING 2: NONE OF THE IMAGES USED IN MY WRITINGS ARE MINE OR BELONG TO ME. If you want to know the artist of a specific post, please send me a DM and I will find the artist.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

MONDSTADT CHARACTERS

"Love is like the wind through the vineyards: free, light, and willing to change course if the heart so dictates."

LIYUE CHARACTERS

"Love, like stone, endures; but also like jade, needs patience to reveal its true splendor."

INAZUMA CHARACTERS

"In a storm of eternity, love becomes the lightning that illuminates even the darkest night."

SUMERU CHARACTERS

"Love is a knowledge as deep as the ocean and as mysterious as the silence of a forest under the stars."

FONTAINE CHARACTERS

"Love flows like water; its beauty lies in its constant movement and its ability to sculpt even the hardest stones."

NATLAN CHARACTERS

"Love burns like a flame in battle: intense, indomitable, and willing to consume everything for that which it deems worthy."

HERE, is a little presentation about me in case you want to know me a little more <3

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #masterlist #genshin masterlist #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #one shot #genshin impact fanfic #genshin angst #genshin fluff

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enii · 2 years ago

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Thank you 💕

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aventurineswife · 5 months ago

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Could I request Welt, Aventurine, Argenti, and Dan Heng learning that their lover made loads of beautiful artwork (paintings, sketches, etc.) of the boys?

“Draw me like one of your French girls”

Summary: Your partner discovers personalized artwork created by you that highlights their unique qualities and emotions. As they react to the paintings, feelings of admiration and affection are exchanged, revealing the beauty and complexity of their personalities.

Tags: Welt x Reader, Argenti x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Artist!Reader, Romance, Emotional Connection, Art as an expression, Self-discovery, Vulnerability.

Warnings: Possible Fluff, Emotional Themes.

A/N: OMFG ITS GRANDPA WELT!! 😍❤️

Welt Yang

Welt returned to his quarters aboard the Astral Express, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. As he entered, he caught a glimpse of something vibrant against the muted colors of the room. His heart skipped a beat. Scattered across the table were a series of paintings and sketches, each depicting him in various poses, some in deep contemplation and others caught in laughter.

You, sitting on the edge of the bed, smiled sheepishly. “I thought you might like to see how I see you.” you said, glancing at the artwork with a mixture of pride and nervousness.

Welt picked up a sketch of himself wielding his cane, a confident grin on his face, his eyes twinkling with humor. “You’ve captured me beautifully,” he remarked, his voice warm with admiration. “I had no idea I could look this… heroic.”

“Heroic?” you teased, nudging him gently. “You’re more than that. You’re wise, caring, and you always know how to lighten the mood.”

Welt chuckled, his heart swelling with affection. “Well, you certainly know how to brighten my day. This is remarkable.” He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you both admired the artwork together, the bond between you deepening with every stroke of the brush.

Argenti

Argenti stood in the center of the makeshift gallery you had created in the heart of your home. A series of paintings and sketches adorned the walls, each one capturing a different facet of him—his unwavering resolve, his moments of vulnerability, and even the times he lost himself in the music of his lute, his voice echoing like a gentle breeze.

He reached out to touch a painting that depicted him gazing into the distance, the golden light of dawn illuminating his features, a rose cradled lovingly in his hands. “You’ve seen so much of me,” he murmured, turning to you with wide, appreciative eyes. “This is truly breathtaking.”

You smiled, a warmth blooming in your chest. “I sought to reveal your nobility, to show the world how beautiful you are, both in spirit and heart. Your dedication to beauty inspires me, Argenti.”

A noble light shone in his emerald eyes, and a soft blush crept onto his cheeks. “I am honored by your words,” he said, his voice filled with sincerity. “Yet, it is you who helps me see the beauty that lies within myself.”

“Perhaps,” you replied, stepping closer to him, “but your heart shines brightest, even in the darkest of times. You are a beacon of hope and resilience.”

He smiled, his expression gentle yet filled with determination. “Then let us stand together, side by side, as champions of beauty and honor.” he declared, his voice resonating with conviction. You both admired the artwork, where every stroke and shade told a story of valor and grace—a shared journey of healing and hope, bound by an unbreakable bond that reflected the essence of true knighthood.

Aventurine

Aventurine entered the luxurious apartment he shared with you, his mind racing with the day’s strategies and negotiations. But as he stepped inside, a glimmer of color caught his eye. There, on the walls, were a series of paintings—each one more stunning than the last—depicting him in various poses, from suave and sophisticated to playful and carefree.

“Wow, you’ve been busy.” he said, his voice laced with surprise and delight. His eyes sparkled as he approached a painting of himself lounging with a deck of cards, a devilish grin plastered across his face.

You peeked from behind a canvas, blush creeping across your cheeks. “I wanted to capture every side of you,” you confessed, glancing at the artwork with a mixture of shyness and pride.

“Every side?” Aventurine smirked, leaning against the wall with a playful tilt of his head. “I hope you included my best side—the one where I’m winning at cards.”

You laughed, the sound brightening the room. “You mean the side where you’re charming everyone out of their money?”

“Precisely,” he said, stepping closer to you, the air thick with unspoken affection. “But honestly, this is incredible. You’ve turned my life into art. Thank you.”

As you stood together, the colorful canvases framed your world, a testament to the love you shared—where every brushstroke spoke of adventure, risk, and undeniable charm.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng sat quietly in his corner of the Astral Express, a book in his hands, when you burst in, barely able to contain your excitement. “I have something to show you!” you exclaimed, breathless.

Curiosity piqued, he set the book aside and followed you to a small alcove where a collection of drawings rested on an easel. Each piece showcased him—his focused gaze while on duty, the serene moments of solitude he cherished, and even a candid sketch of him smiling at a passing bird.

“Did you… make these?” he asked, his voice softer than usual, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone.

“I did,” you said, your eyes sparkling. “I wanted to capture the parts of you that you don’t often show. You’re so much more than the stoic guardian everyone sees.”

Dan Heng felt a rare flush of warmth on his cheeks. “You see me,” he said, the words heavy with unguarded emotion. “I don’t often share these parts of myself.

“Maybe it’s time you do,” you encouraged gently, reaching for his hand. “You deserve to be seen.”

In that moment, surrounded by the delicate art that illustrated the depth of his character, Dan Heng felt a sense of acceptance wash over him. With you by his side, he knew that perhaps he could learn to embrace the person he was—past and all—starting with the love reflected in your eyes.

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