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raitonsfw · 10 months ago

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Hi I’d like to request for Dazai x fem!gf reader and ab that Dazai couldn’t get the thoughts off of his mind since the night before reader allowed him to finish inside for the first time in their relationship and it’s just kinda got him weird ( not in a bad way ) but in a way he wants to do it again until he dies? Also breeding kink? Thank you,

𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚜 | 𝚍𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 𝚘𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞

synopsis: Dazai had pleaded day after day to let him cum inside you and you were always so worried about the consequences, a simple ‘no’ leaving your mouth every single time. But the one time you say yes after he begged for it, yearning for it from the very depths of his arousal, Dazai becomes absolutely obsessed with breeding you. And the next day is nothing but new territory for you as he pushes you to your limit, over and over again…and well, guess it’s time to start shopping for the nursery.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut (holy fuck y’all), fem!reader, needy-fucked out-desperate!dazai, breeding kink, cunnilingus, cum eating, creampies (a lot of them), squirting, overstimulation, dubcon, slight masturbation (dazai), dirty talk, yearning, begging, desperation, rough p in v, many positions (missionary, doggy style, mating press), dazai has insane stamina, talks of having children, four rounds (probs unrealistic but who cares?), aftercare, pet names (baby, princess, darling, my love)

a/n: i got really really really carried away, my bad. Fr my sex probably wrote this instead of my mind, im so ashamed of myself. anywho, enjoy my version of breedy dazai! wc: 1.5k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

“Please, Y/N, one more time.” You heard Dazai beg in your ear, his cock sliding into your already abused cunt and you let out a tiny bruised noise. “I promise it’ll be the last round.”

How did you get like this exactly? Underneath him for what felt like an eternity with cum and your squirt dripping down the backs of your thighs and pooling thick against the bedsheets? You knew it had something to do with last night, but your mind was so hazy you couldn’t quite puzzle the pieces together.

“Can I, baby? Please, just one time.” “Fuck, ‘M so close, need to cum so badly.” You remembered Dazai groaning last night, the memory finally faltering up in your mind. And of course, you weren’t thinking– you said ‘yes’, moaned, practically whined for his seed as his dick drilled into your sweet spot over and over and over– You should’ve thought it through but as you heard the telltale grunts from Dazai, burying his head into your chest with a heady moan, your senses became distorted and you begged for him to fill you up.

And he sure fucking did his job too, ropes of cum spurting against your cervix as he stilled inside you, pressing up against it harshly. You couldn’t feel anything else but his cum at the time, it was so wet and so warm inside you as your entire body went numb– and your mind too. You definitely thought once or twice about having his kids but that fortunately brought you back from your sublime wanting, reaching down for Dazai’s hand and squeezing it tightly as he shuddered against you.

You remembered his face when he pulled out, his cock damp with your arousal and the tip wet with remnants of the cum he fucked inside of you and you could see something whirling through his brain as he sat there for a second on his haunches, collecting himself. Dazai had watched his cum drip out of you and run down your folds like it was some sort of prize he had won– and was waiting for it to be given to him. Before you blink off the orgasm that had piled through you, his tongue had caught wind of your leaking cunt and you arched your back off the bed, clutching the brunette’s strands with a whimper.

“Dazai–!”

“Mm?” He had looked up at you, with those precious eyes of his still completely clouded with lust and you let out a sharp moan as he plunged his tongue into you, lapping at all the cum he had filled you with. It was possibly the hottest thing you ever witnessed in your life as his bandaged arms came to rub at the sides of your hips, his mouth moving skillfully against your folds and you felt his tongue curl to get every drop. Dazai tasted you through yet another orgasm, it wracking your body with immense pleasure and once you unclenched from his pointed tongue, he crawled onto you with a fervent kiss.

“What’s gotten into you, my love?” You had asked him once you managed to pull away, carefully rubbing down the extent of his chest, soothing the small scars that shrouded the frailness of his figure.

“Nothing, princess. I just really wanted to taste you.”

And maybe breed you. Dazai didn’t know what to do– ever since he had felt your pussy clench around him as he leaked into you– finally filled you up with his cum, his mind had been constantly begging for it again. The entire next day you were gone, he had been at a loss for words– his dick awfully hard in the confines of his trousers as he paced around the living room in distress. He tried to get himself off, slicking his hand up and down his cock with heavy intent on finishing… but he wanted to finish inside you– it drove him nearly mad as the precum bubbled at his tip but never truly let him release.

He waited for you all day, all fucking day and when you walked in; you were basically jumped. He hauled you over his shoulder with a kiss and a promise, something you were so deftly aware of and you got excited– you wanted to see what he had in store. Your boyfriend was quite theatrical, you could say; sometimes he’d end up with his hands tied in his own worn out bandages and other times, you’d end up with marks in places you didn’t even know he could reach. Very eccentric was your Dazai, the master of heeding your sex like it was dessert served on a silver platter.

And oh, that’s right– you’ve been in three different fucking positions now. The first time, you two didn’t even make it to the bed; he threw you against the plush pillows of the sofa and ripped open your blouse like it was a present, mouthing at the lacey bra you wore underneath. His fingers snaked into your panties like second nature, finding your clit and rubbing against it to warm her up. And a few minutes later, he sunk into you with a groan as you sucked him into your tight heat. And guess what he had started to beg as soon as started to thrust deep inside you?

“Baby, please can I cum inside again? Would mean the world ‘t me… I wanna–” And your response had been the same as the night before. A yearning yes, complete with a moan of his name to spur him on even more.

You could feel the cum seeping out of you as he laid you down onto the edge of the bed, the second round much more languid than the first. Dazai rolled his hips into you, peppering kisses down your chest and through the crevices of your neck and all you could do was push back against him in earnest as another orgasm crept up, threatening to burst in your nerves and it overtook you with a tremble. He came with a whimper of your name, seemingly more desperate than before, his eyes glancing down to your cramped pussy and watching the cum ooze out of you.

“Need you still, can we go another round?”

You were flipped onto your tummy, his hand pushing against it so you can get into the position he needed you in– on your hands and knees, with your back arched beautifully to show the swell of your ass. Before you could complain about feeling weak, he plunged into you. Your knees nearly collapsed in on themselves, but Dazai held you up with the hand on your tummy and plowed into you like it was his last day on Earth. And yet again, you chased your overwhelming orgasm as he bruised your cervix with every thrust.

This time was different as a wave of heat rushed over you– some type of pressure you’ve never felt before and you couldn’t even warn him as you squirted all over his cock with a shaky cry. You tightened around him, pulling his third orgasm from him inadvertently. “H-Holy shit, baby…”

And that’s how you got here, with Dazai pleading in your ear for one more fucking round.

You were in another position now; he moved you into a mating press and your legs shook with overstimulation as he held onto them. You honestly weren’t sure if you could cum a fourth time and it was the same with Dazai, but all he wanted you to do was milk him dry. He never expressed it to you, but you knew in the back of your mind that you made him into this monster, this goddamn fucker who wouldn’t stop til his cock leaked out nothing.

“Doing so good for me, darling. S-So fucking good. Wanna breed this pussy, till you're so full– till you have no choice but to have my children.” His eyes were rolling back as you stared up at him with dazed eyes, his words hitting you just right and your brain short-circuited with such a dangerous desire. His entire body had started to shake from overexertion and his praises were babbled on his tongue, stuttering along with his hips and you clenched around him as he thrusted into you and you felt like everything was falling apart around you. You saw stars as you came one last time, your vision blacking out as you arched into Dazai’s chest.

He followed shortly after and as he came, nearly nothing came out but he still tried to fuck it into you anyway. Dazai let your legs fall against the bed as he pulled out, kissing everywhere he could reach in the process. “Did so well, my love. Was so perfect for me, I love you so much.”

The praises didn’t stop for a while, even as he carried you to the bath and let you soak first before he even dared to try to fit in beside you. Dazai changed the sheets as you caressed the marks on your skin, bubbles soaping up the bruises and you whined out for him a few minutes later. He came running when you did so, making sure you were alright and you clinged onto his arm, unwrapping his bandages with a graceful twist. “Get in with me…”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

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pokechbi · 1 year ago

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🎀No Rest for the Wicked🎀

(Somnophiliac) König !!

im impatient and couldn't for the life of me wait for the poll to be over in a week, so here you go! Somnophiliac Konig FTW !!!

- 18+ NSFW, so MDNI! 🔞

- Fem anatomy used

- WC: 2.2K (not proofread bc again, my coochie wrote this)

I added a sound for this one, since this is the song i listened to while writing it! love me some lumi athena <3

This one's just plain filthy! Enjoy 💗

Whenever Konig sees you sleeping, his mind can't help but wander to what you're dreaming about. He can't help but stare at you for long periods of time, just thinking about you, letting his mind be utterly ravished by you. It always starts out innocently: He watches you breathe deeply, your chest rising and falling with every expansion of your lungs. He watches as your lips part, eyes moving around behind your eyelids as you dream about whatever it is that was on your subconscious mind.

He talks to you gently as you sleep, knowing you can't hear him. His nightly one-sided conversations often range from seemingly insignificant confessions, to admitting his filthy obsessions over you that he would surely be too ashamed to say out loud.

"Mein schatz...You drive me so crazy. Every second of the day, I just want to touch you...to love you. To be inside of you..." He'd say, feeling himself getting worked up just watching you take his words in, without knowing you are. He contemplates what else you can take in without knowing. He'd imagine you just lying there, your peaceful sleeping form blissfully unaware as your sweet plushy walls subconsciously clench around him, pulsating with every beat of your heart.

When you first started finding yourself falling asleep near him, he would never think of doing such a thing to you, even though it darkly plagued his mind every time you slept near him. It drove him crazy, just watching you. He didn't know why he was like this, and he would always stop before you woke up. A much different ending than how it happened nowadays. But before you became aware of what he was doing, waking with a confusion and a sopping wetness between your legs, feeling the pleasure and utter ecstasy running through your veins, part of him always had the impulsive need to run his hands over you while you were asleep, and more. It would start small, like gently running his large hands over your face, testing how much of a heavy sleeper you were, how much you could take before your pretty eyes fluttered open in confusion and lostness.

There were times when you stayed asleep through all of it. From when his heavy breaths caressed your sleeping face, practically drooling as he grinded himself against your ass, feeling himself harden and jerk with every touch of your skin against his. He'd move his hands to your breasts, fondling your nipples and watching as they hardened against his fingertips subconsciously. He watched as your breathing hitched in your sleep, your dreams probably taking a very nasty turn. He'd take the fat of your thigh in his hand, lifting it and gently turning you on your back, as to not wake you by being too rough (even though he wanted nothing more than to absolutely ruin you). He'd shuffle down, placing his head between your legs as he inhaled your scent. It fueled him, made the blood rush to his cock at the speed of sound. He'd start off gentle, ever so slightly flicking his tongue against your sleeping clit, testing your limits to see if you'd wake up. He'd go in for more once he saw that you were sleeping deeply, sucking at your little bundle of sensitive flesh, your thigh jerking subconsciously. It entertained him, and had it not been for the human body waking itself to external stimuli, he could entertain himself for hours. Just watching how your body loved him even while it was asleep.

He'd smile deviously, eating you out and helping your cunt become a sopping, weeping mess in preparation for his growing cock. Once you were absolutely dripping wet, he'd slowly rise to lie next to you, turning you on your side and spooning you. He'd lift your leg up, holding them wide open as he slid his cock back and forth between your pussy lips, groaning quietly as he coated the head in your wetness. Once he was hard enough, he'd enter you so painfully slow, his eyes rolling back into his head as he held himself from pounding his dick into your cervix. He'll be propped up on his elbow, watching your face carefully to make sure you're not waken up by his insatiable appetite for your sweet little hole. Not being able to grunt and groan caused him to practically drool, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead as he fucked you, nice and slow. And when he feels like he's had enough, he'll close your thighs over his cock, slipping it between the pooling wetness right under your pussy. And once he's found the perfect spot, feeling your clit graze the swollen, throbbing head of his dick while your thighs caress the rest of his shaft, he'll start going to town.

He'll pick up speed, pressing your thighs tighter around his shaft, feeling the familiar tightening in his core, signaling that he's about to spill his hot, sticky cum all over your thighs and cunt. His cock hardens as he breathes shakily, digging his fingers into your thighs, not caring about waking you at this point. The coil in his balls snap, and his dick pulsates as he spills his cum all over your pussy and thighs.

"Mein gott..." He whispers, his voice practically a grumble. "Look what you do to me, schatz."

You'd wake up in the morning feeling sticky between your legs, your eyes peeling open lazily as you reach a hand down to your cunt, collecting the sticky substance around your fingers. You bring it up to your nose, smelling the sour smell of sex and semen. You turn to look at a sleeping Konig, and you just knew. You knew that deep breathing, that smell of sweat and manly musk that he radiated when your pussy had just put him to sleep. You smiled triumphantly, feeling proud of yourself because of the fact that you had him so damn pussy whipped, even when you were sleeping. You in your most vulnerable moment, the moment where you felt the least sexy, had managed to turn this battering ram of a man into a horny, desperate filthy mess.

And then there were the times when you did wake up, mid thrust, confused and lost but the only thing you knew was you wanted it harder. You needed it harder, faster. He knew you'd woken up, now mercilessly pounding into you, replacing every waking thought that dared to generate with the feeling of pure, utter euphoria. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing as if his life depended on it. All you could think about was his dick, hard and throbbing as he laid behind you, holding your thigh up as your walls squelched and wept around him. He let out a string of German expletives, all of his sounds previously held back now releasing themselves ten-fold.

"Scheisse...my pretty liebe. Did I wake you? How does it feel when I fuck you awake, hm? When all you can think about is my hard cock, going so fucking deep that I touch your womb, hm?" He says breathlessly in your ear, his grunts and groans dominating your gentle, sleep-laced moans and whimpers as he fucks you harder. "Mm...Konig. Feels so good, baby. Please...faster?" You ask, your voice shaking and still grumbly with sleep. Your eyes had barely managed to peel open, keeping them squeezed shut as if the feeling of his fat cock inside of you would leak out if you dared to open them. "You want it faster, my schatz?" He asks, his voice hiding a bit of taunt to them. "Mhmm. 'm gonna cum, please...go faster" You ask, the need for him practically dripping from your lips.

"You will cum when I say you can, yes?" He taunts. Your mouth hung open in disbelief, whimpering and tears brimming your eyes. You were so close, so close to releasing yourself all over his cock. He loved to dangle orgasms in your face, loved to see how you crumbled to a sobbing, horny, squelching mess under him as he denied you the release you so badly needed. He loved when you cried for it, tears staining your cheeks and lips going puffy as you bit them hard, trying not to cum against his wishes. What happened when you broke that rule was a story for another time...

"Such a good little schatz, listening to me so well, yeah?" He whispered in your ear, letting go of your thigh and wrapping his hand around your hips, resting on your swollen, throbbing clit. You jerk as the pad of his thick finger circles your clit, and you start to feel a familiar warmth pool in your bladder instantly. He continues sliding in and out of you, bottoming out as you take every inch, right to the damn hilt. He fucks you harder and faster, your tits bouncing and jiggling as he watches them. He chuckles lowly, grunting in your ear as he plays with your clit. "Look at you. Such a hure for me." (whore) "Letting me use you while you sleep. You like it, don't you? You like when you wake up, my cum all over your pretty little thighs, right mein liebe?" He whispers, taunting you as you feel yourself start to stumble over the edge. Your head goes hot with impatience, shaking violently because you can't hold it any fucking longer.

"P-please, Konig. 'm gonna cum. 'lease let me cum." You beg, finally peeling your eyes open to look at him. He looks down at you and smiles, leaning down and kissing your forehead. "How can I say no when you beg so fucking good for me, dear" He replies, lowering his lips to yours. Your lips part and your jaw goes slack as he quickens his pace, the swollen head of his cock relentlessly pushing into your plushy little spot, conjuring what will be one of the strongest orgasms your body has ever managed to produce. "Cum for me, baby." He breathes. Your breathing hitches as you moan and yell into the kiss, your lips open and smashed together as you both groan and moan into each other's mouths. He presses his forehead to yours, beads of sweat colliding and slicking your skins as he rubs your clit harder, fucking you like the world will meet its demise if he doesn't fuck you so deep you feel his cock in your throat. You feel the warmth from your bladder spill into your clit as you squirt all over his fingers, your juices pooling under your thigh as you yell and moan, the only time you felt compelled enough to scream. He chuckles devilishly as you cum, your soft walls violently pulsating around his dick, his hand covered in your squirt. His hand moves back to your thigh, his death grip causing your flesh to mold around his fingers as he holds it up.

You feel his cock harden and his grip around your throat tighten again as he gets close to his edge, kissing you hungrily as you shake and spasm under him. The overstimulation makes your brain go absolutely stupid on his dick. The way he kisses you borders around dangerous, his insatiable appetite only growing as he gets closer to finishing. He groans against your lips, his hips faltering as you feel his dick pulsate inside of you, spilling his hot seed all over your walls.

"Oh, scheisse. Scheisse scheisse. Du fühlst dich so verdammt gut" (You feel so damn good). He moans, his voice shaking with pure euphoria. You breathe heavily, your thighs shaking as he pulls out from you, a sickening squelch ringing out as he does so. He lands on his back, lowering your thigh gently as he heaves. His hand releases your throat, peeling your wet hair from your face, slick with sweat. You lie there, completely dumbstruck, your mind racing miles a minute and trying to recover from the utter loss of brain cells it just endured. You hear him shift to look down at your leaking, sopping pussy, praying he'd let you recover from how he had just fucked you stupid.

He shakes his head, positioning himself beside you again. "Tsk tsk, you're leaking, dear. Can't have any of my seed escape you, hm? Let me just-" You whimper as he slides his still-hard cock into you gently, feeling his cum pool in your deepest parts as he fucks his seed back into you. "Need to keep you filled up, mein schatz, yeah?" He breathes, kissing you on your cheek, flushed a deep shade of red. You nod your head at him lazily, your eyes fluttering closed once more, your body completely spent. He chuckles lowly as he kisses your face gently, covering you with the cool comforter as the smell of pure, raw sex permeates your senses.

"Sleep now, mein liebe. I can't promise I won't bother you this time." He whispers, his voice laced with a smile. "There is no rest for the wicked, dear."

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brattyspence · 13 days ago

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wedding date (part i.)

summary: reader needs to find someone to bring as a date to her younger sister’s wedding, and Spencer talks her into letting him pretend to be her boyfriend for the night to appease her family. This part covers the initial agreement and reader and spencer getting ready to attend the wedding only a/n: good god this was supposed to be a little drabble during the actual wedding but i wanted to make a cute intro and it became long as fuck. this is also my first completed fic for like… an embarrassing amount of time, so it’s imperfect and i’m feeling a little worried that the chemistry i am picturing in my head is not translating onto the screen! be kind with me! i also don't know how this works (i was a wattpad kid in my prime) and i just wanted to upload something to get started. warnings: fem reader, reader worries about being the eldest sister/only unmarried and single daughter within her family, she’s really an overthinking mess (omg who wrote this) fake relationship, tinder, men with j-names (lmao), one curse word? i think. NO Y/N USE :) word count: 1.9k

You leaned back in your desk chair, holding your phone up at just the right angle for Penelope to see the screen from where she stood behind you. You were swiping away on Tinder, narrowing down options to choose as a date to your younger sister’s wedding.

“Oh, he’s cute,” she said. “Wait, scroll up. I wanna see his bio.”

You obliged, your thumb swiping up to read the body of text.

“James,” You read. Your face visibly screws up. “Ugh,’ J’ names.”

“You’re not marrying the guy, just using him. And besides,” Penelope leaned in to read his profile. “He plays pickleball, whatever that is… and he likes dogs!”

You swipe left.

“Ugh! Come on,” she huffs. “And this one has a fish in his picture. We’re getting nowhere.”

You laugh at her remark, swiping again.

Spencer had been half-listening from his desk across the bullpen. He was trying to finish up his paperwork. It was getting late, and most of the team had already left for the night. He didn’t want to hear about your tinder escapades, the mere concept made him more upset than he’d care to admit, but here he was, listening anyway.

“What are you guys doing?” He finally closes the manilla folder on his desk, looking up at you with a confused expression.

“Shit, Spencer. I didn’t think you were still here,” you huff, turning your phone off. You spin your chair to face him. “I’m trying to find a date for my sister’s wedding.”

“Online?”

“On… Tinder.” You felt a little ashamed to say it out loud, especially to him. It was no secret in the office that Spencer made you flustered, and often. You had recently gone undercover together. It had required both of you to look the part and dress in something expensive looking. You had found yourself in a country club with a big fat ring on your left ring finger, playing the part of a happily engaged couple. You were tasked with convincing the unsub and bystanders of your act, while also not exposing your true feelings about him to the team of profilers watching through CCTV and listening through the microphone strapped to your top. You hadn’t done such a good job with the latter, apparently, and had found yourself subject to teasing from many of them after the mission was complete.

“You’re going to meet some guy that you found online… and bring him to meet your family?”

“Spencer, not everyone lives in the dark ages like you,” Penelope says, getting up from her spot on your desk. She begins her path towards the door, assuming you’ve hit a dead end for the night.

“What if he’s… a freak or something?” He asks.

“Oh, please. I’ll run a background check on him,” she says, stopping in the doorway. “This isn’t my first rodeo, pretty boy. So unless you have a better idea…”

“I- yeah. I do have a better idea. Don’t do… that. I’ll take you.”

I’ll take you.

You hesitate, your eyes flickering between his face and Penelope’s suddenly very stunned expression. The doorway is behind him, which you’re thankful for as she wildly gestures in her excitement before waving at you, mouthing something like ‘hurry up and answer!’ before slipping away to her desk.

“You… you would do that?”

“Yeah, I would do that. Especially if it means you don’t go with James from Tinder.” He smiles. “Besides, I’m kind of upset that you didn’t think to ask me after…”

He had a point.

“Fine,” you say, offering him a smile. “Thank you, Spence.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” He looks pleased, pushing his chair away from his desk and grabbing his things. He shuts off the desk light. “Just send me the details.”

You nod, deciding it’s late enough to do the same and finally go home yourself. “I will. Goodnight, Spencer.”

–

You had been standing over the hotel bathroom sink for half an hour as you perfected your makeup. Time was ticking. You had a half hour to finish getting ready and get down to the lobby for the ceremony, which would have been more than enough time if you weren’t as nervous as you were.

You were putting your brush down on the sink and closing the bronzer compact in your hands when you heard a knock on the door. The compact fell from your fingers, hitting the sink and shattering. You cursed under your breath.

Great.

You turned away from the mess, brushing the loose powder off your hands before stepping out of the bathroom and into the short hallway of the hotel room. You undid the lock, opening it cautiously.

Of course he had to look good. Of course he had to show up with his perfectly undone hair, in that gorgeous suit Derek had helped him pick out, assuring you he would make sure it matched your dress. You dragged your eyes off of him, off of his undone tie, and up to his eyes.

“Hi.” He started. His eyes turned slightly with a hint of a smile. “Everything okay?”

You huffed. “Yeah. I just�� dropped my bronzer and it shattered. It's fine.” You shook your head. “I'm sorry. Come in…”

You stepped aside to let him in, shutting the door behind him.

“I know I’m early… You were just kind of anxious on the phone earlier. I thought you might want some company.” He set his suit jacket down on the edge of your bed. “Do you want me to help you clean that up..?”

“No, no. I don't want you to get dirty. I got it,” you said. You stepped into the bathroom, picking up the compact from the sink. You tossed out the case and rinsed the powder down the drain, watching it swirl away. He was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest, watching.

“How are you feeling about this?” He asked.

“About… this?”

“About your sister getting married,” he clarified. He looked a little concerned as you fumbled with your things, cleaning up the countertop. “I know you were worried about it. And clearly you're feeling some type of way…” he says, furrowing his eyebrows as he watches you drop another item in your haste to clean up.

There was so much to be anxious about. Being the eldest daughter, the only single daughter, being this close to him when he looked so good and smelled like some kind of cologne that was new to you and made you a little dizzy, the knowledge that he got up and got ready to take you to an event, and that he would return home at the end of the night and you’d still be here, alone, pining over a man who was oblivious to your adoration for him.

You swallowed, zipping your makeup bag and setting it at the back of the sink.

“Bittersweet. I don't know. I'll be fine.”

“You will be,” he said. He was watching your expression, clearly in thought. He was waiting for you to say something more, it seemed, but you didn't have anything to say. “You’ve dealt with harder things.”

A beat of silence passed between you.

“I just… feel a little left out, I guess.”

“Left out?” He cocks his head.

“Yeah. My two younger sisters are married and I'm… not. It feels stupid to say out loud.”

“It's not stupid if it's bothering you…”

You look up at him, meeting his gaze. He was genuinely concerned, and waiting for you to finish your thought.

“It's nothing. It's really ridiculous,” You shook your head as if to shoo away your thoughts. “I guess I should put this dress on.” You turned your head to gesture at the garment bag hanging off the shower rod.

He nods, deciding to leave the subject alone. He pushed off the doorframe and stepped back into the larger area of the hotel room. You closed the bathroom door softly and turned to put your hands on the edge of the sink, taking a deep breath to center yourself.

You quickly pulled your phone out of your pocket, sending an update to Penelope who had so politely requested for you to keep her in the loop.

You: im making such a fool out of myself. im SO NERVOUS.

She writes back immediately.

Penelope: i’m sure it will be fine! he's a gentleman!! don’t stress yourself and have fun :)

You slip off your pajamas, pretending he's not ten feet away from you as you fold them on top of the sink. You unzip the garment bag, pulling the dress off the hanger, then unzipping the dress itself. JJ had helped you pick it out, and she was right about it; it is stunning. It slips over your body like a glove, the silk material sliding right into place against your skin. You held up the front of the dress, arranging the straps over your shoulders. What you hadn’t thought about was the zipper. There was no way you could do it yourself, which only left one option.

You held the material covering your chest up, cracking the bathroom door open.

“Spence?”

He looks up from his phone. He had been sitting at the edge of your bed, seemingly reading something on the device. You see his eyes flicker over your form briefly and then back up at your eyes.

“Can you help me zip this?” You ask.

He nodded, visibly swallowing. He turned his phone off with a click, leaving it on top of the bed as he got up to make his way to you. You turned away from him, the bare skin of your back exposed to him.

You felt his fingers ghost across your skin, catching the loose strands of hair that obscured the zipper's path and tucking them over your shoulder. His fingertips found the base of the zipper, gently tugging it all the way up and doing the clasp at the top. The simple action felt like it took minutes, hours maybe. You found yourself wondering if you were crazy for thinking that the way in which he did this simple favor for you was incredibly intimate.

You tugged your mind back to the present moment, looking down at the dress and smoothing it out with your hands. You turned back to face him, admittedly overwhelmed by his proximity.

“For what it's worth, you look beautiful. And you have nothing to worry about.”

Oh.

You shook your head again, a futile attempt at deflecting the attention you were so desperately unprepared for.

“You don't have to do that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he says. There’s no sarcastic edge to his comment. There’s not even the typical arrogance that men offered with their compliments. He was entirely genuine, and looking at you with a distinct fondness that you were unsure you’d ever noticed from him before. Maybe you were imagining it.

You sighed, avoiding his gaze for a second before looking up at him.

“But we do need to get going.” He glances at his watch. The tension shatters.

“Shit,” you sigh. “Right.”

You force yourself away from him, and finish getting ready in a hurry. You strapped on your heels quickly before rummaging through your makeup bag again to find your perfume, which you very carefully sprayed over yourself. You slide your phone into your clutch, tucking it under your arm before looking up at him once more.

“Are you ready?” You ask. You step closer to him, straightening his tie carefully. “I didn’t think I’d be the one on edge today. You’re facing my entire family’s interrogations…”

He laughs. “I’ve been trained for this, you know.”

You smile. “I guess you have. So let's get going, then."

#I am shitting my pants I haven't uploaded anything in so long #my things!#criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #spencer reid fluff

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reixtsu · 5 months ago

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Lantern In The Shadows

Multi character x gn reader! Gender of reader is not specified.

Characters listed in the end!

Genre: Angst (comfort in the end)

Warnings: hints is self harm, mentions blood, darkness, self hate

He was the light within your darkness, a comforting lantern that stood upon your domain of blood. He was such a breath of fresh air, someone that you could tolerate in the cursed world you resided in.

However there was one thing that bothered you about him-out of all of the people he could have been with, why did he choose you?

In your opinion, you felt that there were plenty of better partners that he could have been with, and definitely have a healthier relationship with. You felt bad because it seemed like you were a burden to him, as you were always feeling down in the dumps.

Besides, you as the darkness did not want to dull the light that you loved so dearly.

The thought hurt so much, that 'he was making a sacrifice for the world by being with you'. You wanted him to be happy, to not deal with you since you were convinced you were a problem, something that should be wiped from this world. The aching in your chest only felt deeper day by day as you found yourself growing more and more distant from him.

Until one day, the medications were not seeming to work anymore. The emotions ran to its climax, and the feelings of negativity deep inside became shadows that blurred your vision.

The pain, it was too much to handle.

It was suffocating, as though you were drowning a cold sea of your own blood. You reached for the knife, hoping to dull out the agoney, only to be stopped.

"My love, what are you doing?" His voice was god-sent, a comforting tone that brought you back to your senses ever so slightly.

He looked at you with such softness, gently holding your wrist to prevent you from hurting yourself.

Hot tears trickled down your face slowly, leaving traces of saltiness behind as you stared at the ground, ashamed to even look at his radiant gaze. "Don't look at me. I'm...so terrible."

His heart crumbled at your words, a wave of concern and protection washed over him as he took a step closer to you. "Don't say that. You're not terrible."

"But I am!" You cried out, tears falling nonstop as your throat felt dry from distress. "I don't deserve you. I'm such a terrible person, I made so many mistakes, and I never seem to do better!"

You coughed out the words that have been stabbing at your core every single day, but all you could see is blood everywhere, and your demons laughing at you, saying how much of a failure you were.

"I'm... a failure."

Warm arms wrapped around you and shielded you from the blood, demons, and darkness, suddenly making your cold, numb limbs feel lifelike again. Your lover kissed your forehead, a reminder that you were a treasure to worship.

"You are not a failure, or a terrible person," He whispered into your ear as he rubbed soothing shapes along your back. "You are such a great person with many great talents, values, and potencial. You might not see it yet, but everyone around you appreciates you. Take me as an example, I am so lucky to be with someone like you, who cares and takes care of me like no one else does. If you ever harm yourself, I will be devastated."

One sniff, then two sniffles. You tried your best to understand his words as he stared at you with love. You didn't really believe his words, but you knew that you could trust that he was being honest. The blood sea of darkness slowly seemed to fade away as the gentle light gave you a warm embrace.

In that moment, you knew you were loved, and you were worth his love.

- KAVEH, kazuha, Tignari, Aether, lyney, THOMA, neuvillette, JING YUAN, Gepard, dan heng, SIGMA, Atsushi, Odasaku (BSD), your faves

Author’s note: This story is meant to be comforting, so I know that I may give some people triggers, it sure gave me a small trigger as I wrote this, but I want everyone to know that people are willing to help those in need, no matter the form.

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mashiraostail · 4 months ago

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pls pls can i request a jealous halsin x reader/tav scenario … he’s been pining over you, you’re oblivious, and then when he sees some innocent platonic affection between you and another companion, all that pining boils to the surface. mayhaps some nsfw too if you’ll indulge me. pls the way you write him is simply… *chef’s kiss*…. magnifique ✨

hoooraayyy Halsin HOORAY!! I heart making men talk like flowery little victorian women writing letters to their husband say some fruity shit big man! Idk what compels me to make these so long that's why they take forever.

I have another ask like this and maybe I'll write him doing sum primal fuck shit but this was an itch i just had to scratch

It wasn't Gale's fault, it wasn't your fault either, it was his fault. Halsin knows this, he's honestly ashamed, he shouldn't be so easy to sway...he never has been before.

He notices everything, he notices the flirtation, the questions about the life he left behind, the fleeting touches, the way you always go to him when they day is out, you propositioned him, he declined. That was his fault. It wasn't the time, he had business he had to sort before he could indulge himself, and you couldn't hold that against him. He made it clear when he turned you down, it wasn't you, and maybe one day soon things would be different.

Even so, you were always chatting with him, smiling at him, touching him, gods you always touched him. It drove him mad actually, your hand on his bicep, on his chest, on his stomach when he said something particularly funny, you sat so close to him your thighs pressed together, your shoulders and arms, all of it pushed him to the edge. And the way you said his name after you laughed at his joke, "Oh Halsin.." When you see him again after a long day, "Halsin! How'd it go?!" You'd even hugged him, thrown your arms around his neck and shoulders. He'd held the small of your back and laughed heartily with you, maybe a few ales too deep. He swore one day soon things would turn a corner for the two of you.

You doted on everyone though, and you enjoyed closeness with all your companions. Normally he'd be happy to see you sharing your joy with everyone but lately it frustrated him. He wondered what was different, even though deep down he knew. It was you, he didn't want you to himself necessarily, he wanted you to understand how he felt. The more he waited to explain himself the more upset he became, and the harder he found focusing around you to be. He felt like he was always brooding, always lingering behind the group, because the sight of you slinging your arm around Karlach or playfully mussing Astarion's hair made his stomach lurch with uncertainty. He wrote it off as a disdain for societal labels and relationships but he felt unfair even doing that, lying to himself.

He and Jaheria were the last ones to return to camp that day. He was grateful to travel with her alone, though he lamented not seeing you he did not lament the emotions seeing you caused to crop up. When he returned you were sitting on a log by the fire with Gale, chuckling and waving your hands. He'd already begun to feel wary.

Halsin inches closer, he snoops a bit sure, he's not proud of it but he's been alive long enough to accept he won’t always be proud of his actions.

"No!" You sound surprised through your laughter.

"Yes!" Gale's tone was argumentative but warm as you held onto his arms. Halsin bubbled a bit, out of everyone Gale was the most likely to get the wrong idea...or maybe the right one if the way you were squeezing him was any indiction of things.

"Did you really misbehave so terribly when you were younger?? I'll have to ask Tara next time we see her, I don't believe you!"

"Am I so untrustworthy?!" Gale sounds affronted.

"Based on your stories?? Yes! Gale! You are!" You're squeezing him and shaking him so much the pair of you topple over the back of the log you're perched on, Halsin watches Gale kick his legs for a while as you laugh.

"You'll kill me," Gale stands up and dusts himself off, "and the rest of them too!" He gestures to his orb, "I don't know how sensitive this thing is!" He hoists you up by your arm.

"I'm sorry Gale, that was just so funny, I can't picture you a young mischievous wizard at all..."

"Well it's a good thing I grew out of it." He's smirking at you though, impishly. It makes you laugh.

"Did you?" You cover your mouth as you chuckle before reaching out and dusting his hair off, tucking the rouge strands back into place. "I don't know if I believe that either. You've certainly kept your impish charm."

Halsin feels his face warm, he watched the two of you bat at each other like school children. He kissed his teeth, rubbed his calloused thumb over the smooth back of his hand, anything to distract himself from the annoyance rolling over in his stomach.

"Who's to say?" Gale holds his hands up, a faux surrender, shrugging just a bit.

"Go to sleep Gale." You shove him, snickering, "you're delirious."

"Perhaps I am." Gale smiles at you, "goodnight my friend." The words hardly do anything to put Halsin at ease he can practically feel his eye twitching. Whoever said patience was a druidic virtue?

"Sleep tight Gale." When you turn away from him you see Halsin, who to his credit had no real reason to be standing there.

"Halsin!" You chirp happily at him and he feels his chest bloom at it.

"Hello my dear, we're back late today, I apologize. Did you need us?" He tries to squash the growing disdain in his stomach in favor of appreciating you as you appear before him.

"Oh no! Nothing Shadowheart couldn't handle." You wave back at her tent, "How were your travels?"

"They were fine. Unfortunately the Harpers really can't be trusted.." He peers over your shoulder, notices your tent moved to be beside Gales, which had never been the case before.

"I figured as much." You sigh, he watches your eyebrows turn upwards. "That's upsetting. Are you going to clean up for the night?"

"Yes I think I will." He glances to the stream behind camp, no one else was there.

"Can I come? I hate to bother you but I can't sleep, and I think I kept Gale up so long he was hallucinating." Your fingertips brush his arm as you chuckle, he glances down at the point of contact. He feels the skin there heat up as you pull away.

"You're no bother, my dear." He shakes his head, "come with me."

You trot happily behind him, unaware of his stewing just in front of you.

"So, what went wrong with the Harpers?"

"You and Gale are close." Halsin elects to ignore your questions.

"Oh?" You perch on a nearby rock as Halsin crouches by the stream, "Gale? I suppose we are friendly. He's very funny."

"Is he?" Halsin fights to keep his tone even, though you seem oblivious to it.

"Did you hear us talking earlier? I swear the more sleepy he gets the funnier he is." You're giggling, like a school child. Halsin feels his eye twitch.

"I did not hear you, I only saw you fall."

"My fault completely, I was going mad with it, it was so funny, Gale told me that when he was a younger student, at that fancy magic school he snuck into the-"

"Do you..care for him?" Halsin turns to you, still crouched by the running water below him.

"I suppose I do...like him yes." You sound confused, lost, which Halsin supposes is a good sign as you'll only tell the truth.

"You like him?" Halsin is looking intently at you.

"I do, he's..nice.." You look like you're entirely unsure about what's going on.

"You like him so much because he's..nice, then?" Halsin doesn't sound like he's convinced.

"Yes I think so-"

"Do you share a bed with him?" Halsin stands, he walks towards you perched on your rock.

"I-" He almost feels bad for the way a warm flush rises to your face as you look up at him.

"N-no we don't, we haven't. We're only friendly-"

"Do you wish to? Would you wish to?"

"N-no I don't, I wouldn't he...I-" You flounder a bit, "why do you ask?"

"It seemed a certain way." Halsin kneels, face to face with you on your perch, "I worried."

"Why did you worry?"Your holding your hands by your chest, leaning away from him, shocked but not leering, nervous..you were nervous. "Why would it worry you to know I shared a bed with Gale, that I cared for him in that way?"

At the realization of your nervousness he feels guilty, he puts his hands on your thighs, "I should apologize."

"Why?" Your face was flushed, your eyes were wide as you watched him, tried to predict his next move with no avail.

"I was selfish with you. With your time, with your care." He shakes his head, "I beg you to forgive me. To not let this ruin your opinion of me..I acted so poorly...and it..it’s embarrassing and dreadful and I beg for your forgiveness...You gave me a chance to have a piece of you, I turned you away. I know you don't hold that against me. You stepped aside and I am grateful that you did. The curse was my burden to bear, and I couldn't be distracted from it, not by you, or by anybody. You understood that, and I am grateful. Had you pushed me I would have..become distracted with you, I would have followed you wherever you went, and forgotten my duty."

"I understand Halsin. I'm not offended-"

"I know you aren't, and that's why I'm so grateful for you." He looks earnest, "but I selfishly believed that you would hold onto your want for me. That you would wait indefinitely for me to come to you. I held you to an unfair expectation, to the hope that you would not share your heart, or your body, with another. When I saw you today with Gale, I worried that I had given you up, that I had made a terrible blunder and I had lost my chance to have you. Gale does not seem the kind of man to be willing to share you, and I cannot blame him, nor could I blame any other for keeping you to themselves once they've had you."

"Why does that worry you? You did not want me then-"

"I did want you." Halsin insists, "and I do want you now, I've wanted you since the beginning but I knew you would consume me, that I would lose sight of what I was meant to do..but I've burned with it, you have enamored me completely and... brought out the worst in me, I'm useless with it."

"I'm sorry Halsin.." You hold his gaze, and cover his hands with yours.

"And you still apologize as if you have done wrong." He squeezes your thighs where his hands cover, "you have not, I am the one who lost sight of things, lost sight of what I wanted, who I wanted. I was so enamored by the idea of having you I cursed any obstacle in my way, rather than telling you the truth. That was my error. It was my error to believe you would hold onto your desire even after I turned you away, to believe that you would still consider me after I put something else above you."

"I don't understand Halsin.." You blink at him as he lifts your hands, "do you want to go our separate ways? Is this too much- I apologize if I was too forward back then, but we need you-"

"No," His forehead falls onto your knees, "perhaps I am not speaking clearly." He squeezes you again, "I don't want to be parted from you, not now, not ever... I want the opposite," he sighs, "I want you now, if you'll have me, if you can put my behavior..my feelings behind us.I know it was so childish of me. I’m so sorry my songbird..please find it in yourself to forgive me.” He looks up at you, he kisses the back of your hand, “you’ll break my heart if you don’t.”

"You haven't done anything wrong....Halsin.." You shake your head, "if you need to be forgiven then I forgive you, I'll always forgive you, but...I do not think you've done anything that deserves asking for it. We misunderstood each other..."

"You are brighter, and kinder than most, perhaps you're naive... or perhaps you understand things better than any of us." He kisses up your inner arm to the crook of your elbow, "I laid some sort of...childish claim to you, I believed I deserved you, your time, your body, your heart, more than the others, that you would come to me because...I don't know..I'm sorry, forgive me for treating you like a prize to be won, a piece of land to fight over you are...your heart is so much more than that, to me and to everyone that you meet." He barely takes his lips off your skin when he looks up at you and you feel your lungs empty of air.

"Halsin..of course I forgive you..” You barely get it out, you feel so breathless.

His lips pass the bend of your elbow and make their way to your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, his other hand engulfs your waist as he moves you from your perch and pulls you to his chest,

“do you? Really?” He’s at your jaw, "I was too much of an oafish brute to put words to it, to tell you, even when I should have, I adore you, I think so highly of you. I'm so taken by you.."

"I feel the same way Halsin.." You're breathless when you're face to face, your hand holds the nape of his neck, "I thought you wanted to...focus on the more dire things at hand so I left you to them, and when things ended and you didn't come to me I thought perhaps the fascination had passed and I did not want to trouble you again-"

"You did not trouble me then, you do not trouble me now," He sighs gratefully as he kisses you, it’s warm, his other hand leaves your jaw to press the small of your back, arching you closer to him.

“I have to have you..I’m worried I’ll die if I don’t.” He’s breathing quickly into your mouth with anticipation, “I need to see you.. All of you and..and feel you I-”

“Oh.” You felt gooey at that, of all the things you expected to happen today this was not one of them.

“And It has to be now you see I- I can hardly put my head on right when I start to think about you like that and it’s all I've been thinking of lately... I doubt I’ll even be able to get anything done properly tomorrow if you don’t set me straight.”

You laugh at that, “okay..” You nod, leaning down to him again, just slightly taller than him perched on his lap.

“Yes?” He sounds so perfectly hopeful.

"Tell me you want me, tell me this is what you want..to be with me..and for me to have you..even after all the things we misunderstood..that you’ll let me bed you, that you want me to..” He looks up at you earnestly, his eyes flickering between yours and you nod.

"I want you, I want this, Halsin, I always have."

He let's out a warbled sigh into your lips at that, already lowering your bodies to the ground, kissing you, sliding his hands into your clothes.

He was quick to uncover you, to toss your clothes off somewhere, to sigh gratefully as you did the same to his, you wondered what had gotten into him, but had no complaints either way.

He was lowering himself between your legs easily, kissing down your chest, lavishing your stomach with attention, unperturbed by the flush creeping down your neck.

"Halsin you don't have to-"

"Please, don't deny me now.." You aren't sure why you thought he would consider this a chore.

He deluged you with loving attention, his hands slid from the sides of your thighs up to the small of you back, pulling you closer and closer to him with each stroke. He groaned when you called his name, when you carded hair through your hands or held his face. Languid stokes of his tongue, paired with the slow curling of his fingers inside you. It felt like he was indulging himself with you, occasionally he pulls away, pressing the tall bridge of his nose to your tender skin, nipping at it, taking in deep breaths of you.

He retraces his path to your lips, long kisses and wide strokes of his tongue over your stomach, open mouthed kisses to your chest and collar, then he's taking your face in his hands, "Please-"

"You don't have to beg-" Your eyebrows draw together, "Halsin, I'm in no mood to deny you."

He guides your legs around his waist and slowly guides the head of his cock into you, a hand caging you in on either side of your head. You hold the nape of his neck, and his chest, begging him closer.

"Is it too much?" He sounds almost nervous, "are you alright?" He watches your chest and stomach prattle with deep, shaky breaths.

"I'm alright," You can barely get it out, "Halsin-" You're keening as he bottoms out. He ducks into your neck smattering loose kisses and bites along your skin.

"You're singing for me again," He's sighing into your skin, pulling you closer to him, "you sound so beautiful like this..." He rests one of his hands on your chest, pressing his thumb gently to the divot between of your collar bones, feeling you suck in deep, needy breaths in time with the rolls of his hips into you. Your skin is red under his thumb, flushed with arousal, nervousness, every time he moans, or pulls you into him he feels his hand rise as you take in a deep breath.

He pulls one of your legs over his shoulder and noses at the soft skin of your inner knee, he can feel your heart beating under his hands, he can feel your eyes on him, sliding down his chest and abdomen, back to his neck and jaw then to his eyes again. His hand rises and falls rapidly with your chest as you chant his name, he free hand guides the small of your back upwards as you arch into him. Your hand holds his on your chest, wrapped loosely around his wrist, your other flutters between his arm and chest.

"I'm here," Halsin breathes it out as your leg coils tighter around him, "I hear you, singing for me." And you were, hopelessly chanting his name between long rolls of his hips and every time you felt his index finger slide down the divot of your spine, "you're doing so well my songbird.." He sighs dreamily at you, as if you weren't coming undone below him.

You wrap both of your legs around him as he guides you up into his lap with the hand on your back, your arms lock around his shoulders easily and he groans into the crook of your neck, "hold onto me, I need you close." You can feel his breath down your chest, warm thankful sighs sliding down the sliver of space between your bodies.

His hand feels worlds larger on your back than you had fantasized, he uses it to guide the roll of your hips into his, his other hand holds the back of your neck, pulling you desperately closer. He sang you praises, pulled you greedily into his chest and kissed you when you cried out particularly loud until you felt yourself tightening around him, coiling in your stomach. You felt your nails dig into the back of his shoulder, he didn't seem to mind.

When it becomes too much, when that feeling in your stomach snaps and breaks you crumple into him, you tuck your head beneath his chin, you practically cry for him. When he finishes, which is hardly a few seconds after you, he drags his hand up you back, over your waist, then presses between your shoulder blades, you hear the hoked off groan that he lets into your hair.

You kiss him again, holding his jaw in two careful hands.

"I'm sorry i've kept you up dreadfully late." Halsin's hands still slide needy over your back and waist, pulling you ever closer to him.

"It's okay it..was worth it I'd say." You laugh, "what's brought all that on? Now, after everything?"

"You didn't notice how I'd been brooding? I'd hardly been myself."

"I thought you disliked the city, I was worried you were going to ask to part from us. Astarion disagreed though he wouldn't tell me his theory."

Halsin laughs a bit at that, and after all the desperation and apologizing, it was a welcome sound, "That was for the best I think."

"Perhaps. Were you really jealous of Gale?" You leer back at the idea, "he's nice and all but he really doesn't hold anything over you."

"I was not jealous of Gale just because you found him to be..nice and funny...there are plenty of nice and funny people here." He lies and looks away from you, which is how you can tell he's lying.

"Ah. I see." Your hands rest on his chest, "sorry I misunderstood then." You're grinning anyway. You swipe his hair off his forehead, and in that moment he decides he was fair to be jealous of Gale, even fleeting touches left him feeling lavished with attention.

"Let's clean off." He turns into your palm.

"Can I spend the night with you, in your tent?" You look up at him as you stand.

"Of course." He's smiling at you, another welcome change, "you don't need to ask. I'm here whenever you need me, call for me and I'll come." He leans down to you, "I'm sorry I didn't come to you sooner." His thumb traces the shell of your ear as you kiss.

"Don't worry now, you're dramatic." You chuckle into him, "would you really have died?"

"There was no sense in risking it." He lifts you by the back of your thighs and makes his way to the water with you, "better to be safe.”

#bauldrs gate 3 #halsin x reader #bauldrs gate 3 x reader #halsin bg3 #Halsin

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sodamnradd · 3 months ago

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(Veela Draco)

It began as a one-night stand post Ministry mixer.

Malfoy surprised her with his smart banter, smouldering eye-contact and subtle touches. A hand on the small of her back as they left the bar. His chest flush against her spine in the sweaty crowd. When the strap of her dress slipped down her shoulder, he slid it back into place, fingers lingering on her skin a heartbeat too long.

He was attentive. Patient. Enthusiastic.

Later at his flat, when Hermione reached for his trousers, he raised her knuckles to his lips and offered her a glass of wine instead. And when they finally stumbled into bed, tipsy and starved, he clutched her hips, asking if she’d prefer to sit on his mouth or his lap to start.

It became a weekly ritual.

She told herself she’d move on in the spring.

But Malfoy only became more devoted. More familiar. Her window of self-care in an otherwise chaotic routine.

At times she wondered if he wanted more. Pulling her closer when they awoke. Muttering, “Stay,” in a sleepy voice, smiling as he added, “forever.” And she wondered if he really meant it.

So when Malfoy suddenly broke things off, Hermione felt blindsided.

‘I’m sorry I can’t see you anymore.’

That’s it. That’s all he wrote in his breakup note.

Refusing to end things with a one-liner, Hermione showed up at his flat equipped with a speech and a lengthy lecture to boot.

She encountered a monster instead, baring its fangs and growling at her.

She screamed.

Recognizing her, the beast snapped his jaws shut and retreated. His silver irises were like sickle moons, staring back at her in sheer horror. She watched, fascinated, as his pupils blew wide. “You shouldn’t be here.” His voice sounded unearthly.

“You have wings,” she remarked, stunned.

“It’s a new development.” His gaze dropped to his bare feet. Apart from a pair of linen trousers, Malfoy was naked.

Pale and muscular as if carved from stone, he moved with the timeless grace of a vampire. His hair was silky and luscious. His teeth sparkled, sharp and straight. His enormous angelic wings spanned half the length of the sitting room. Initial reactions aside, Hermione found herself unexpectedly dazzled.

“What do you mean ‘new development’?” She stepped forward. Malfoy took a step back. Rage swelled in her chest. “Did someone do this to you?”

“Granger, go,” he implored.

“Let me help.”

“There’s nothing you can do.”

“There must be a spell or a potion I can research—”

“LEAVE!”

She took cover behind her arms.

He made a broken noise and her heart ached for him. If it were Ron or Harry, she would never let them suffer alone. It dawned on her that Malfoy had become equally as important.

Lowering her arms, Hermione looked him in the eye, ashamed of her reaction. “I’m not leaving until we figure out how to turn you back.”

“There’s no turning me back,” he exclaimed. “I’m a Veela.”

“Since when?!”

“Always, I suppose. But I think it lay dormant until I found my mate.”

She swallowed. “Found your mate?”

“Maybe ‘found’ isn’t the right word,” he mumbled, looking away. “More like ‘chose’, but it wasn’t exactly intentional.”

“Who is it?” she whispered, dreading the answer.

When they locked eyes, Hermione understood.

Oddly, she felt relieved.

“I’m sorry,” he said, flushing. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Are you disappointed?” she asked in a small voice, worried he was embarrassed of her.

“I don’t want to be this way. All my senses are heightened. My teeth hurt. My bones ache. The wings are itchy. I haven’t learned how to use them yet so I’m stuck inside all day.” He held up his hands, appalled. “I have claws.”

Despite the shocking turn of events, she felt strangely endeared by his plight. And considerably more attracted to him than she ought to be. “What can I do to help?” She stepped closer and when he didn’t move away, she hugged him.

The room went dark.

Hermione sucked in a breath, frightened, before realising it was only Malfoy’s wings encircling her.

“Sorry,” he repeated in a low voice. “I’m learning to control them, but they’re very temperamental. And they seem to like you.”

She smiled against his chest.

“It’s not funny,” he grumbled.

She touched the soft tapered feathers spanning his wing, and he shivered.

“They’re sensitive,” he said. “It’s like you’re plucking a nerve.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No. It feels good.” His lips brushed her forehead, pulling her closer. “I haven’t felt this calm in days.”

“Can I stay?” she asked, thinking of all the times he’d asked her to and wondering if they had led to this moment.

“I always want you to stay. Even before all this happened,” he said, reading her like only he could. He was still her Draco.

Her lips grazed his left wing, and she thrilled at the sound of his breath hitching. “And to think we were supposed to be casual.”

Malfoy tensed. “If you stay,” his voice was half-creature again, “you’re mine for good.”

She caressed his feathers dotingly, enraptured by their beauty. “Then teach me how to touch you." Her fingers danced across his wing, and he moaned. "I’m a very good student.”

(878 words, prompt: you have wings (Veela Draco) from X)

#dramione #draco malfoy #hermione granger #draco x hermione #dhr #hermione x draco #dramione drabble #veela draco #sodamnrad #sodamnraddrabbles

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marwolaeth-76 · 1 year ago

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Hii!!

Can I request a one-shot with veneer and velvet from trolls 3 x fem reader, Where the reader is their childhood bestie and she bails both of them from jail and they’re both like hella whiny and complaining to the reader how bad jail was and the reader just teases them about it!

(It’s fine if you can’t do it!) 💗

Hi!! Thank you for your request! I enjoyed writing this, I hope it satisfies your request!🩷

Velvet & Veneer x fem!reader release from prison

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You are a childhood friend of the star twins. You grew up in the same suburb as them. In the next house, so you were neighbors. Going to the same school, and how to say, making up a small company of the 3 of you, you became very attached to these two blockheads. After Velvet expressed the idea that she wanted to become famous, you supported her, everything was going well, until the moment you found out that they want to build a career as singers! You, like no one else, knew very well that they sang disgustingly. But, Veneer convinced you that they will practice, and everything will work out. Seeing their breathtaking performances on stage and their performance, you did not believe them, and decided to break off your friendship with them, although it hurt you. You heard their songs from literally every teapot, you were pretty tired of it. And so, after a disastrous performance, after the terrible secret of their popularity became known to all Mount Rageons, the twins were taken into custody. Of course, the first couple of days in prison weren’t so bad, at least for Veneer... as a result, you received a call on your phone, it’s surprising that Velvet called you and not her parents. Damn it, it was you who paid the deposit for them too. “Ugh! prison is just disgusting! They literally fed us slop and gave us some rags, calling them clothes! They treated me like I was some kind of animal in a cage without freedom!“ Velvet's screams rang loudly as the girl actively gesticulated and recounted all the details of her imprisonment with disgust. Veneer, in turn, walked quietly, saying nothing, only sighing occasionally. “It’s all your fault!” - After these words, Velvet slapped Veneer in the face and continued “Who asked you to say anything at all?! I don't think I asked! Because of you, we lost everything! Fame, money, fans, our influence! Are you satisfied now? Mister Justice!?“ Her screams turn almost into hysterical screams, Veneer accepts the slap in the face, but then slowly frowns the more she thinks. "so what? all this was not ours, it was not our merits and we got what we deserved. everything was your plan from the beginning, I initially thought it was terrible." After these words, one would think that Velvet would attack and strangle her brother, but then you intervened in the conversation. “Well Vel, but now you know what it was like for Floyd when you kept him in the bank, absolutely the same as you in prison, maybe even worse... you didn’t have to constantly listen to two huge idiots)” You nodded approvingly to Veneer, trying to hide your little giggles, seeing how Veneer looks away in shame and Velvet blushes with anger, you realize that you really missed these two upstarts.

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

I'm ashamed that it didn't wrote out as much as I wanted😢

#velvet trolls #trolls 3 #velvet and veneer #trolls veneer #trolls 1 #trolls band together #headcanon #trolls 2 #veneer x reader #velvet x reader

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its-ares · 5 months ago

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— Love in full view

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐱 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐲.

The formula 1 Star gave a personal interview in his home in Monaco. He was interviewd by an old companion, Aart Classen, who wrote and accompanied Verstappen’s way since approximately over eight years. The Redbull driver didn‘t want to hide is relationship anymore, please follow along for a very raw insight to Max Verstappen.

By Aart Claasen

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

"Are you sure you want to do this Max? You know I don't care if people know we're together, I don't want to pressure you into anything you're not ready for," said Max's boyfriend of 3 years and looked not convinced. Max chuckled and kissed M/N to calm him down.

"Schat, I'm 100% sure. I don't want to hide any longer, this has been going on for too long. It's about time," Max calmed his partner and hugged him. The couple went into the living room, where Aart had already set everything up. Now or Never.

The interview went well and everyone was relaxed. Max told how he and M/N met and how they went from being friends to lovers. At some point the three of them started talking about Jos. "How did Jos react when you told him that you were gay and had a boyfriend?" asked Aart and Max stiffened for a moment. Aart noticed this. "We don't have to talk about him if you don't want to, Max. This is your story." Max shook his head and tried to collect himself. He took a deep breath and started to tell his story.

"I didn't tell him for a long time because I didn't know exactly how to tell him. I told my mother right at the beginning and she always supported me. I also think that she likes M/N more than me," said Max, making the others laugh. "She knew about my struggle to tell Jos. I avoided him for a while and then at some point he confronted me after the race and then it just burst out of me. The hide and seek game became more and more difficult for me and when he asked me more questions I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore," Max finished his monologue and glanced at you. Your smile calmed Max down.

"And what did Jos say then and how did he react?" Aart asked curiously and Max laughed humorlessly. "He was completely confused at first and thought I was joking. Let's just say he's slowly getting used to the idea," said Max and you decided to take a break. "I'm proud of you, baby," you whispered and Max kissed you softly.

After a short break, the interview continued. "Why did you decide to make your relationship public now?" asked Aart and you cautiously looked at Max. "That's actually the sad part of the story. M/N and I wanted to enjoy the break in peace and were in Hasselt. We were on the beach with my mother in the evening and just enjoyed the time. Unfortunately, there were also people there who don't like me and they took a photo when we kissed. We didn't even notice the people and a few weeks later I got a DM on Instagram with the pictures. One guy of the group wrote that he would publish the pictures. We talked about it for a long time and then I made the decision to make it public. We don't want to be blackmailed, I'm not ashamed of being gay, I just wanted some privacy," Max finished and felt a huge weight fall from his shoulders.

After several hours, the three of them ended the interview. "Thank you for your trust, Max. I'll type up the interview and send it to you in advance. I wish you all the best," Aart said, thanking him and saying goodbye.

"Come on, honey, it's been a long day. Let's order something to eat and relax before the spectacle starts," said M/N amusedly. Max laughed.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

liked by 284.063

maxverstappen1 I love you Schat 🧡 The article Love in full view is out now, go check it out. And a big thank you to aartclaasen

#max verstappen x male reader #f1 x male reader #formula 1 x male reader #ares fluffy works ☁️

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illdowhatiwantthanks · 6 months ago

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Hi, honey! Could you please write something about Emily Prentiss having a teenage daughter who sh’s and Em finds out? I know you wrote something similar and it’s perfectly okay if you feel like this is too repetitive <3 Ps; you’re so incredible and I aspire to be able to write like you do!! <3

Here you go, Anon! It's true, I've had a lot of SH-related requests recently, but I really don't mind the repetition. If it's something people want more of, and it helps them feel safe and heard and loved, I'm happy to write it. ❤️ (and thank you so much I'm so flattered! <3)

Tiny

Emily Prentiss x daughter!reader Warnings: self-harm, discussion of self-harm and self-harm tools, mental illness, internalized homophobia, explicit language (please let me know if I've missed anything!) Word count: 1.8k

Summary: After your best friend moves away, you start to struggle with depression, loneliness, and self-harm. You do a pretty good job of hiding it for a while but your mom is a profiler after all.

You’d been so good, so good, at hiding it. Long sleeves. Bracelets. You kept the tiny, sharp travel scissors in your locker at school, disguised in a bag with fabric and buttons and needles. A sewing project, you always said if anyone asked. But no one asked.

The truth of the matter was that you didn’t have many friends. And Sophia, your best friend since second grade, had moved to Denver last year for her dad’s job. You’d sworn to keep in touch, sworn that you’d stay best friends no matter what. And you’d tried, you’d really tried. But the daily texts had turned into weekly texts. The every-other-night FaceTime calls became every-other-month. And every time you talked to her, it seemed like her life was better than ever. She had new friends. A new soccer team. Even a boyfriend. It seemed like every time you called her, she was with him.

It hurt when you realized that Sophia liked spending time with her new boyfriend more than spending time with you. But it had hurt even more to examine your own jealousy, your own inexplicable rage at her moving on, making new friends, having new experiences. The reality–that you liked Sophia as more than a friend–hit you like a gut punch. And you didn’t know who to talk to about it. Normally, you’d talk to Sophia. But you couldn’t talk to her about this. Honestly, you weren’t even sure you were good enough friends to talk about boys or girls or whoever anymore. She’d drifted away and left you behind.

You thought about talking to your mom–she’d dated girls. But she was so busy with work, so stressed. She tried really hard not to let on when she was home, but you could see how tired she was, how she nodded blankly when you told her about your day, her mind elsewhere. No doubt with the hundreds of psychopaths and murderers she investigated every day.

You didn’t know who you were or what you were. You just knew that you were lonely and hurt and so deeply confused. There were other LGBTQ+ kids at school, but they’d all been out since middle school. They had that unbreakable comradery that queer kids who flock together often have. And you’d missed it.

All the confusion, all the hurt, all the feelings, roiled inside you until there was no place for it to go except out. The first time you’d drawn the scissors across your forearm, the blood had surprised you, as had the brief moment where there was blood but no pain. But when the pain did hit, it felt like a balloon had popped, like something that had been growing and growing and pressing in on you had shrunk back down to a manageable size.

Of course, the shame followed. Of course, you felt terrible, guilty, ashamed, sick to your stomach. Of course, you cried when you thought about what your mom would say if she saw it, what Sophia would say. But even worse, you knew they’d ask why. And you were terrified to talk about why. So you put on your long sleeves. You started wearing bracelets. And you hoped that no one would notice.

But that night, after a quick dinner of takeout pizza and Caesar salad, your mom had asked you to wash up and, without thinking, you’d rolled up your sleeves to do the dishes.

“Oh my god!” your mom exclaimed, rushing to your side. “What happened to your arm!?”

It was so stupid. You’d been so careful. You’d kept this a secret for months and now, with just one fuck-up, you’d ruined it.

“Nothing!” you cried, squirming out of her grip. “I just… I scratched myself, that’s all.”

But your mom wasn’t stupid. She spoke six languages. She headed an FBI unit. She was the smartest person you knew. She profiled people for a living. And she could tell when you were lying.

“Y/N!” she chastised, grabbing onto your arms hard. She'd also trained in hand-to-hand combat so you were really no match for her.

She turned your wrists around so she could see the inside of your arms, and the look on her face nearly broke you. It was sadness, it was guilt, it was shock and disbelief and worry, so much worry. You stared at the ceiling, willing yourself not to cry, mouth clamped shut.

“Y/N,” she said, quieter, running a gentle thumb along your forearms. “Tiny, look at me.” A tear dripped down your cheek. She didn’t call you Tiny much these days. And you always rolled your eyes when she did. It was what she’d called you when you were little. I love you, Tiny. You're so strong, Tiny! You can do it! Everything’s gonna be okay, Tiny.

You sniffed and lowered your head to look at her, more tears falling. You saw that your mom had tears in her eyes, too, and it made you feel awful.

“How long have you been hurting yourself?” she asked, her voice calm and gentle, full of emotion.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, sniffling. “Maybe like… six months?”

She let out a shaky sigh and nodded. “Okay,” she said, more to herself than to you. “Okay.” After a moment, she drew you into her, and you pressed your face into her chest, finally letting yourself cry.

“It’s okay, honey,” she cooed, smoothing your hair as she hugged you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

When your sobs had calmed to hiccups, you emerged, face red and blotchy. Your mom wiped your face with her hands and motioned to the kitchen table. “This might be hard for you,” she started, looking at you earnestly. “But we need to talk about it. Go ahead and sit down. I’m gonna make us some tea.”

You took deep, soothing breaths as your mom set a steeping cup of chamomile in front of you, holding her own close to her chest.

“Are you mad at me?” you whispered, scared of the conversation to come.

“No, baby,” she assured you, squeezing your hand. “I’m not mad. I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

You nodded.

“Now, first things first,” she began, and you winced, sure she was going to take something away from you or ground you or something. “Do you know how to properly clean and dress a cut like that?”

You blinked in surprise. “Uh…” You were floundering. This is not where you expected this conversation to go. “I mean, I put band-aids on them.”

“Yeah, no,” your mom said, taking out her phone and making a note. “We’re gonna get you some alcohol sterilizer. Let’s see… Neosporin, gauze bandages. Probably butterfly bandages too, just in case. And whatever it is that you’re using for… this… you need to be sanitizing it before you use it.”

Your jaw dropped and you stared at her. “You don’t… want me to stop?”

She clicked the phone shut and stared purposefully at you. “Oh, no. Hear me loud and clear. I absolutely want you to stop. But… from what I know about self-harm, it’s a process. It might take some time. You might have relapses. And I just want you to be as safe as you can in recovery.”

“Thanks, Mom,” you said quietly, surprised at her response. You hadn’t really thought about being safe while cutting. Since cutting itself wasn’t exactly safe. Trust your mom to always be looking for ways to take care of you.

Your mom pursed her lips for a moment, as if thinking about how to proceed. And, once again, you were terrified that she was going to make you feel worse somehow, even if she didn’t mean to.

“It’s okay,” she stuttered, breathing out heavily, “if you don’t want to talk to me about what’s making you want to do this, but you need to talk to somebody. So tomorrow I’m gonna make some phone calls and we’re gonna find a therapist. And if your therapist recommends it, we might need to find you a psychiatric facility for a little bit.”

Ice-cold panic flooded your veins. “No, Mom, please!”

“Hey, hey,” she said, grabbing your hands. “It is not a punishment. There is nothing wrong or shameful about your brain needing some help, okay? Even if it’s scary, we’re gonna do what we need to do to help you get better. Yes?”

You exhaled and nodded.

“Okay. So that’s what we’re gonna do.”

You were both silent for a moment, sipping your tea. You wished you could tell what your mom was thinking. You wished you could tell her what you were thinking. You so desperately wanted to tell someone. And you were scared. Scared that your mom would never look at you the same again. Scared that you’d never again be that same little girl, her Tiny. There was too much wrong with you.

You sniffled as your eyes filled with tears again. “Mom?” you squeaked.

“Yeah, honey?”

You asked what you were most afraid to ask. “Do you still love me?”

“Oh, baby,” she said, scooting her chair toward you and wrapping you in her arms. “Of course I do. I love you so much. I’ll always love you. You’re my little girl, you’re my Tiny.”

Your shoulders shook as you wept. “I just feel…” you cried. “I just feel like no one really loves me.”

“That’s just not true,” your mom said, rubbing your back. “I love you. All your aunts and uncles at the BAU love you. What about Sophia? She loves you.”

You cried even harder. “No, she doesn’t, Mom.”

Your mom brushed your hair away from her face. “What are you talking about? You talk all the time.”

And when you finally said it, it felt like a weight off your shoulders, like you’d been carrying a mountain for months and someone had finally lifted it away. You shook as you spoke. “She doesn’t love me like I love her.”

Understanding flooded your mom’s face. She nodded, and you could tell by the look on her face, by the empathy in her eyes, by the way she squeezed your hand and cupped your face and pursed her lips that she knew. She knew what it was like. She knew the confusion and the hurt and the self-hatred. She knew it all.

And it was almost better that she didn’t say anything. Anything at all. She just looked at you and understood. She just brushed your tears away with her thumb and let you finish crying. And when your sobs subsided, she held your hand. And she kept holding it. And after a while, she brushed your hair out of your face and said, “Everything’s gonna be okay, Tiny. I promise.”

And you knew–because she was your mom, because she was her, because she loved you and you loved her–that it would be.

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x daughter!reader #emily prentiss fanfic #hurt/comfort #emily prentiss imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic

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1425fivefive · 26 days ago

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After Me, the Flood

Lestappen | Rated: E | 4.7k words

Summary: Charles is a 500-year-old vampire. Max is a human. They meet in Amsterdam in 1662.

Tags: Vampires, violence, sex (all the good stuff)

Author's Note: I wrote this for @motorsport-halloween and am posting it here on Tumblr! This is vibes and smut.

Charles Leclerc first met Max Verstappen in Amsterdam in 1662.

Charles didn’t normally recall years with such specificity. After centuries of wars and famines and plagues, watching countless empires rise and fall, years became almost meaningless. He could barely remember the year of his own birth.

But 1662. Charles could never forget it.

Charles had no reason to be in Amsterdam in that year. But he never had any reason to be anywhere. His family had been dead for centuries and his ability to compel anyone to give him clothing, money, or a room for the night meant he had no need of a profession.

He was free to go wherever he pleased, to indulge his every whim.

But after half a millennia of drifting across the continent, untethered from anyone and anything, he couldn’t help but feel that freedom was more of a prison.

He couldn’t remember, precisely, but perhaps he’d gone to Holland because it was where everything seemed to be going in those years. Money, trade, artists, merchants. It was a vibrant city with a beating, bloody heart and Charles needed to feed.

There was never any shortage of people, then. It was all too easy to drain a victim and tip them into the nearest river, knowing that the body would be sucked down into the muck. If it happened to drift ashore, Charles knew no one would ever connect the bloodless corpse with puncture wounds to Charles of all people.

No, Charles was too beautiful, too doe-eyed, and innocent-looking to ever attract suspicion.

It helped, Charles knew, that he was a man. He’d lingered too long in a small village in Bavaria, one year in the 1500s, and the stack of corpses he’d left in his wake had sparked a witch trial that had gone on for a decade, eating through the women of the region.

Charles never meant to leave destruction in his wake, but it was unavoidable. He reasoned that he was no different than a wolf or a plague—it was in his nature to ruin, to kill. There was nothing good or bad about his actions. They simply happened.

But no matter how much Charles tried to tell himself that, he still felt a gnawing, awful emptiness inside of him as he drained another body in a dark alley, listening as their whimpers of pleasure-pain slowly faded to nothing.

Charles had fed only hours before meeting Max for the first time.

He was following his normal routine, after feedings—drinking alone at a pub, debating whether to take someone home, hoping a rough fuck would quiet the horrible feeling inside him.

The pub was quiet, unassuming. Only open to those who knew how to find it, and it was exclusively patronized by men. Young merchants, high off the day’s trades. Gray-haired politicians, ogling the boys who worked behind the bar.

Though Charles’s sexual proclivities skewed more—omnivorous than most of the pub’s patrons, he enjoyed the hard touch of a man after feeding. Women were often too gentle, too considerate. Too liable to have Charles sobbing in their arms, ashamed and horrified by himself.

Charles chatted with the barman for a bit, discussing some festival that would be happening that weekend. Charles wasn’t particularly interested in the topic, but he enjoyed the opportunity to use his Dutch.

Charles had learned dozens of languages over his long life—his native Ligurian, Latin, Provençal, Frisian, Dutch. Charles had even managed to pick up a bit of Yiddish during a brief sojourn to Lithuania. It was one of the few true pleasures in Charles’s existence, learning how to shape his mouth around the new sounds. Discovering new words for things Charles had long grown tired of almost made the world feel fresh again.

Almost.

By late evening, long having tired of small talk, Charles was preparing himself to go home with one of the boisterous merchants, endure the surely unsatisfying sex that would follow. Perhaps he’d drink from them, after, ensure that he wouldn’t need to feed

But just as Charles was finishing off the last of his drink, resigning himself to his fate, a man pushed his way through the door, dressed in dark wool, color high in his cheeks.

No one in the pub spared him a second glance. But Charles couldn’t keep his eyes off him. The contrast of his pale skin against the dark wool of his coat. His thick, plush lips and bright, watery blue eyes. The flush in his cheeks, the life beneath his skin.

He was beautiful. The most beautiful man Charles had ever seen in almost five hundred years.

The man sidled up to the bar beside Charles, resting his elbows casually against the mahogany and flagging down one of the bartenders. He ordered a beer, the foam dripping over the lip and running down the side.

“Proost,” Charles said, holding up his glass of mead to the man’s beer.

The man turned to him, offering a shy smile. “Proost.”

They tapped their glasses, each taking a sip of their drinks while holding eye contact.

The beer left a line of foam on the man’s upper lip. Charles wanted to lick it off him, drag his tongue across the sour liquid. But the man raised his sleeve and wiped it away before Charles could do anything irrevocably humiliating.

“You��re not from around here,” the man said.

Charles laughed softly. If only he knew. “No, I am not,” Charles answered vaguely.

“Where are you from?”

Charles gave the man a coy smile, one Charles hoped would make his evasive answers seem flirtatious rather than sinister. “Many places,” Charles said.

The man laughed, then, and it transformed his face into something gorgeous and alive, the skin of his eyes crinkling, his shoulders tipped forward.

“Are you always so difficult?” The man asked.

Charles shrugged, grinning. “Perhaps.”

The man cocked his head, studying Charles. “You like it,” the man said finally. “Having people think you’re mysterious.”

Charles couldn’t help a fond smile at the way the man so clearly thought he had the measure of Charles. “Did it work?” Charles asked.

“Not on me.”

Charles hummed. Better that the man believed it was all an act than suspect the truth.

“What’s your name?” The man asked.

Charles thought, briefly, about giving the man one of his many pseudonyms. But he had so little of himself to offer to the man. He wanted to give him at least one real thing, however small. “Charles.”

“Charles,” the man repeated. He said it the way all Dutch people said Charles’s name, with a tch sound at the beginning and the s at the end. Normally it irritated Charles but he found he liked the sound of his name in the man’s throaty voice.

“And yours?” Charles asked.

“Max.”

“Ah, a strong name,” Charles said, a teasing lilt in his voice. “The name of an emperor.”

“Yes, that’s why my father picked it.” The man—Max—winced as he said father and Charles knew there was something dark there. It wasn’t particularly surprising to have a poor relationship with one’s father, in a pub like this.

“What’s your business in Holland?” Max asked, clearly wanting to move on from the subject of his family.

“No business”—Charles flicked his eyes down to Max’s plush lips—“only pleasure.”

Charles watched as Max’s throat bobbed at Charles’s words, watched as the flush rose in his cheeks and spread down his neck, disappearing beneath the high collar of his jacket. Charles wanted to tear the jacket from Max’s broad shoulders, lick a stripe up Max’s neck, savor the pulse of Max’s carotid artery under his tongue.

Charles felt an aching pressure in his gums, his canines fighting to lengthen. He forced them to retreat, reminding himself of the merchant he’d drained only hours earlier.

“Would that interest you?” Charles asked, trying to tear his gaze away from Max’s neck.

Max stepped closer to Charles, Charles’s thigh sliding between Max’s legs. Charles wanted to tug Max down to his lips, but he knew even a pub like this had to ensure plausible deniability.

“Of course, Charles,” Max murmured. “Of course, I’m interested. You’re”—Max broke off, his pink tongue darting out to wet his lips—“you’re beautiful.”

Charles reached out, grazing the back of his fingers down Max’s stomach, startling a gasp out of Max. “You are quite beautiful, as well.”

Max scoffed. “Don’t lie.”

Charles frowned, confused. Max was beautiful, so beautiful Charles couldn’t understand how people hadn’t told him so constantly. Charles had lived for centuries and he’d never seen someone who looked like Max—the broad, strong features that, together, transformed into an almost searing vulnerability.

“I am not lying,” Charles said firmly. “You are gorgeous, Max.”

Max flushed, his whole face turning pink. “Stop.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Charles asked, running his fingers up and down the fabric stretched across Max’s stomach. “Because I think you would enjoy hearing how beautiful you are.” Charles paused, wondering whether to push further. But Max was staring at him with wide eyes, lips parted, and Charles added, “Perhaps you would like hearing how gorgeous your perfect lips look, wrapped around my cock.”

Max sucked in a gasp, before nodding, eager and honest. “Yes, Charles, yes, I’d—yes.”

“Good,” Charles said, smirking. “Now finish your drink.”

Max obeyed, tipping his head back and draining the last of his beer. It was a heady feeling, watching Max follow Charles’s orders. People followed Charles’s instructions all the time, but Charles couldn’t remember the last time someone had done it of their own free will, without Charles needing to compel them.

When Max slammed the empty glass back on the bar, Charles feared that he would never be able to let Max go.

—

Charles was staying in a lavish townhome, overlooking one of the canals.

He’d killed the only occupant, a man who must have been nearing ninety. His blood had tasted bitter and dry, leaving Charles full but with an unpleasant taste in his mouth that lingered for days.

“This is a very nice place,” Max said, peering at a painting on the wall. “Your family must be quite well-off.”

Charles hummed noncomittally. He knew the basic facts of his birth and childhood: he had been born in 1193, shortly after Monaco became part of Genoa. But he recalled few details of his family. Only fleeting impressions. The feeling of being held by someone, resting his head against their chest and listening to the rumble of their voice. The warm sound of a man’s laughter, presumably his father’s.

Max was still studying the painting. “Is this a Vermeer?”

“I wouldn’t have thought you to be a lover of the arts,” Charles said teasingly, trying to distract Max from inquiring too deeply about the objects of the house.

“I can appreciate beautiful things,” Max said, voice pitched low. He looked over at Charles, eyes raking over Charles’s form to make his double entendre clear.

If Charles were still human, he would have flushed. “Quite the line.”

“Did it work?” Max asked. He seemed almost vulnerable, desperate for Charles’s approval.

Charles simply smiled. “Do you do this often, Max?”

Max looked confused by Charles’s non-answer. “What? Go home with beautiful, mysterious men?”

Charles smirked. “Yes.”

Max laughed softly. “I can’t say that this particular situation has arisen before.”

Charles preened.

“But I have fucked men before, of course,” Max said bluntly, staring brazenly at Charles.

Charles smiled indulgently and said, “Of course,” even as he recoiled at Max’s tone, at his presumption of how this night would play out between them.

The Dutch were so—boring, sometimes. Every man seemed to believe fucking other men was only acceptable so long as they were the ones putting it in. Even Max, who, in Charles’s opinion, was in desperate need of a good fuck.

The most frustrating part of it was that Charles knew it didn’t have to be this way. That sex between men didn’t have to be shameful or secret.

He’d spent much of the 15th century in Florence, falling into the beds of aristocrats, sometimes making love for days even as their wives puttered about the house, preparing meals and baths. He’d kissed and fucked men in barely hidden corners of public gardens and flirted openly with them at feasts.

But the Church had torn through the city, rooting out “sodomites,” and there was nowhere like it, now.

Now, there was only this: shadowy pubs without signs, parlors with the curtains drawn, and men who believed there was any meaningful distinction between fucking and being fucked.

“I assume this is not your first time,” Max said, interrupting Charles’s thoughts.

Charles smiled softly. “No, Max.” He turned, strolling toward the parlor. “We should have a drink, yes?”

“Oh, um—yes, if you’d like,” Max said, hurrying after him.

The parlor was cluttered, stuffed full of art and heavy furniture. Charles found it all rather oppressive. The only redeeming quality was the beautiful harpsichord in the corner, the interior of the lid bearing an elaborate painting depicting the abduction of Persephone by Hades. For such a Christian people, Charles found them oddly obsessed with pagan myths.

He poured two glasses of jenever, the gin the Dutch so favored, and passed one to Max.

Max took a sip. “This is good.”

“I find it rather tasteless,” Charles said, even as he drained half his glass.

Max snorted. “What would you prefer, then?”

Charles hummed, thinking. “Brandy, perhaps. Or Aquavit.”

“Aquavit?”

“I take it you have never been to Denmark?”

“No, Charles,” Max said, laughing. He sobered a bit, frowning down at his drink. “I’ve never left Holland.”

“Why?” Charles exclaimed, stunned.

There was so much more to the world than Holland. The vast snowy expanses of Sweden, the cluttered market towns of Alsace, the rolling, foggy hills of Carpathia.

Max laughed softly at Charles’s outrage. “We are not all so well-traveled as you.”

Charles scoffed. “It is not so difficult. Surely you could find work on a merchant ship, sail to whatever new colony the Dutch have claimed.”

“No,” Max said shortly. “My father—” Max broke off, throwing back his drink.

“You are an adult, yes?” Charles asked, frowning.

Max nodded.

“Then how could your father stop you?”

“He is—quite stubborn,” Max sighed. “I think he would kill me, probably, if he knew what I was about to do with you.”

“Oh?” Charles asked, feigning ignorance. “What are we about to do?”

Max didn’t respond.

Instead, he walked slowly toward Charles. Charles thought Max might kiss him, but Max simply sank to his knees.

Charles gasped at the sight, his hand going automatically to Max’s hair, carding through the blonde strands. Max’s eyes slid shut at the feeling and he let out a soft moan.

Charles felt slightly delirious, watching Max submit to him so easily, even though he knew everything in Max was likely fighting to stand, to shove Charles over a table and yank his breeches down, fuck into him. To see Max on his knees—

“This is what you want?” Charles asked roughly.

Max nodded, color rising in his cheeks. He opened his eyes and gazed up at Charles as if in prayer, lips parted.

“Good boy,” Charles murmured, and Max made a choked, high sound in the back of his throat, eyebrows knitting together.

“You like that, yes?” Charles asked. “Hearing how good you are?”

Max nodded, a flush spreading down his neck. He was gorgeous like this— needy and responsive while almost shy, clearly self-conscious of his own desires.

Charles wanted to show him exactly how good it could be, if only Max let himself enjoy it fully. Without shame or fear.

“Take out my cock,” Charles ordered.

Max let out a pained whimper, even as his hands flew to Charles’s breeches, undoing the button, before tugging them down Charles’s thighs. Max made a desperate noise at the sight of Charles’s half-hard cock.

“You want to suck it, yes?” Charles breathed, looking down at Max through half-lidded eyes.

Max made another choked noise. “Yes.”

Charles used the grip on Max’s hair to tug him forward, pressing Max’s face against his cock. “Then suck me,” Charles ordered.

Max licked a slow, wet stripe up Charles’s hardening cock, eyes flicking up to watch Charles’s reaction.

Charles couldn’t hold in a moan at the sight, his grip tightening in Max’s hair. Max’s eyes fluttered at the feeling and Charles pulled even tighter, gratified by the high noise Max made in the back of his throat.

“So good, Max,” Charles breathed.

Max whined and sucked the head of Charles’s cock into his mouth, tongue laving over the slit.

Charles groaned, tipping his head back, fucking deeper into Max’s mouth. Max took it beautifully, moaning even as Charles hit the back of his throat.

Max was clearly experienced and Charles couldn’t stop the lash of jealousy that realization inspired. Who else had had Max like this, moaning and choking on their cock? Who else had seen the aroused flush on Max’s cheeks, his neck? Who else had Max fucked, who else had fucked Max—

Max let out a frantic whine around Charles’s cock and Charles looked down to find Max’s bright blue eyes filled with tears, Charles’s knuckles almost white where they were gripping Max’s hair tight, so tight it was certainly painful.

Charles loosened his grip immediately, smoothing a hand over Max’s hair. “I’m sorry,” Charles murmured, pulling back until only the tip of his cock rested on Max’s tongue.

But Max simply looked up at Charles, holding his mouth open obediently, as if asking Charles to use him.

And who was Charles to deny him?

Charles groaned and fucked forward roughly, staring down in awe at the way Max just took him. As if Max wanted to be possessed, controlled, dominated.

For centuries, Charles had felt it a curse, the way he only seemed capable of taking—wealth, blood, control.

But Max was on his knees, asking, begging Charles to take him. As if Charles taking was something good, something pleasurable. Erotic, even.

Charles whined at the realization, chasing his pleasure roughly in the wet heat of Max’s mouth. Max moaned around him and Charles’s eyes slid shut, surrendering himself to his rapidly-impending orgasm.

Despite the haze of arousal, Charles recalled his words to Max at the bar, his promise to tell Max exactly how beautiful he looked with Charles’s cock in his mouth.

Charles forced his eyes open. He barely held himself back from coming at the sight of Max on his knees, pink-faced, tear tracks on his cheeks.

“God, Max,” Charles moaned. “So gorgeous.”

Max let out a muffled whine, high-pitched, desperate, staring up at Charles with wide eyes.

Charles traced a thumb over the corner of Max’s plush lips where they were stretched around Charles’s cock. “Your lips, Max,” Charles murmured. “They look perfect like this. Like you were made to take my cock.”

Max made a punched-out noise at that, eyes fluttering. He reached a hand down to his crotch, grinding against the heel of his palm, clearly desperate for friction.

Charles moaned at the sight, at the thought of Max spilling messily in his breeches, so desperate from simply having Charles’s cock in his mouth that he couldn’t even take the time to undo the button and get a hand on himself.

“Good boy,” Charles breathed, barely hanging on as he watched Max rut against his hand. “Make yourself feel good while I come in your pretty mouth.”

Max made a pained sound at that, but he didn’t stop grinding frantically against his hand, sucking messily on Charles’s cock.

Charles wanted nothing more than to watch Max come like that—on his knees, in his clothes, with the taste of Charles on his tongue.

“Fuck,” Charles moaned, his control fraying as he approached his orgasm. “So good, Max. You’ll be good for me, yes? You’ll let me come in your mouth?”

Max whined, nodding frantically around Charles’s cock.

Charles threaded his fingers back through Max’s hair, controlling Max’s pace as Charles approached what Charles knew would be an earth-shattering orgasm.

“I’m close, Max,” Charles breathed, voice urgent. “You’ll come with me, yes?”

Max whimpered, pressing harder against his crotch.

“You need to come with me, Max,” Charles ordered. “You need to ruin those pretty clothes while I ruin your pretty mouth.”

Max moaned, high and thin, around Charles’s cock, and his eyes went squinty as his thrusts sped up.

“God, Max,” Charles groaned. “I’m going to come. You’ll take it all, yes? Be a good boy and take everything I give you?”

Max made a frantic noise, his hips stuttering against his hand, and Charles chased his own orgasm roughly, whining high in his throat at the sight of Max’s jaw working to take his cock, at the feeling of Max’s tongue licking over the head, at how Max just took it, everything Charles gave him.

That was it, Charles realized. With Max, Charles felt like he was giving.

Charles came with a choked-off moan, fighting to keep his eyes open as he watched Max swallow around him. Halfway through Charles’s orgasm, Max let out a high whine and Charles watched as his thighs clenched together, his hand pressing hard against his crotch.

“Fuck,” Charles moaned, barely able to speak as he felt Max swallow another pulse of his come, “you’re coming, yes?”

Max didn’t respond, simply gazing up at Charles with hazy eyes, his hips making tiny, abortive thrusts against his hand.

“Good boy,” Charles panted, his own orgasm finally petering out. “So good, Max.”

Max let out another high whine, his hips slowing against his hand.

They stayed like that, for a moment. Charles’s softening cock resting on Max’s tongue, Max gazing up at Charles like he’d witnessed something divine.

When the sensation became too much, Charles pulled out of Max’s mouth, smiling at the sight of Max chasing after him.

Charles tucked himself back in his breeches, fastening them and straightening his clothes.

Max stayed on his knees, panting roughly.

“You can get up,” Charles said, laughing softly. “Though I must say I am enjoying how much you seem to like being on your knees for me.”

Max flushed and pushed himself to his feet, wincing as his knees straightened.

Charles pulled Max in by the waist, pressing his lips softly to Max’s. Max didn’t react, for a moment, frozen against Charles’s mouth. But as Charles considered pulling away, Max let out a soft whimper, his hands flying up to Charles’s hair, tugging him closer.

Charles moaned into Max’s mouth, sliding his hands around Max’s waist, tugging Max tighter against him. Max’s lips parted and their tongues slid wetly against each other, Charles whining at the taste of himself in Max’s mouth.

Max pulled back after a moment, just a hair, keeping his forehead pressed against Charles’s. “Do I taste like you?” Max murmured, his breath hot on Charles’s lips.

“Yes,” Charles breathed. “But maybe I should have another taste, just to confirm.”

Max laughed, a short puff of air, and pulled Charles in for another heated kiss, swallowing Charles’s desperate noises.

Charles pulled Max tighter, grinding their crotches against each other, and Max grimaced against Charles’s mouth.

“Fuck, your clothes,” Charles murmured, remembering that Max was sitting uncomfortably in his own spend. “Let me—“ Charles didn’t finish the sentence, simply pushed Max back into an armchair, sinking to his knees before Max.

He wanted to make Max’s trip home more comfortable. But Charles would never forgive himself if he let Max leave without even getting a glimpse of Max’s cock.

As Charles brought his hands to the fastening of Max’s breeches, Max grabbed Charles’s wrist. “Charles,” Max said roughly, looking down at him with hooded eyes, “as much as I like the idea of your mouth on me, I won’t be able to get hard again.”

Charles smiled sweetly, tugging his wrist free of Max’s hold. “You won’t need to be hard for this.”

Max looked confused, but he let Charles tug his breeches open, revealing Max’s cock, soft and pink, glistening with come.

“Such a pretty cock, Max,” Charles breathed, before leaning forward and licking over Max, moaning at the salty taste of Max’s come.

“Fuck, Charles,” Max said, voice high and choked. But he stayed still, letting Charles lick him clean.

Charles lifted Max’s cock, leaning down to lap up the come coating the underside of Max’s cock. Max whined at the feeling, and when Charles glanced up Max was staring down at him in awe, teeth digging into his plush lower lip.

“Has anyone ever touched your cock like this, Max?” Charles asked. “Touched you but not tried to make you come?”

Max shook his head, eyes locked on Charles.

“Pity,” Charles breathed, even as he reveled in being the first to do this, to treat Max tenderly, gently. Worship him. “You have a very pretty cock, Max.”

Max whimpered, even as he quipped, “You’ve said.”

Charles chucked softly. “Yes, but you should hear it all the time. A cock this pretty deserves it.”

Max whined, twitching helplessly toward Charles’s mouth.

“You want me to keep licking you, yes?” Charles breathed.

Max nodded, lips parted.

“What would you like me to keep licking?”

“My cock,” Max breathed.

Charles smiled. “What kind of cock?”

Max tipped his head back, letting out a high whine. When he looked back at Charles his eyes were glassy, watery with unshed tears. “My pretty cock.”

Charles held Max’s gaze as he leaned forward and dragged his tongue over Max.

—

“I should go,” Max said. Though Charles didn’t want Max to leave, he couldn’t help but enjoy the rough sound of Max’s voice, throaty and fucked out.

“But you just arrived,” Charles protested. He reached out and snagged Max’s hand, tugging Max closer. “Stay,” Charles breathed, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to Max’s neck. Charles’s eyes slid closed at the heady scent of Max’s sweat and blood, the steady thrum of his pulse just beneath his skin.

It would be so easy to bite—

Max pulled his hand free of Charles’s and he stepped back, looking mournfully at Charles. “My father—he’ll be wondering why I’m not back.”

Charles scoffed. “What will he care? Men your age are always out late, chasing after every pretty thing that crosses their line of sight.”

Max frowned. “Are we not the same age?”

Charles thought back to what he had said. He realized he’d said men your age, as if Charles—

“I do not know your age, so how could I say if we are the same?” Charles asked.

A small smile appeared on Max’s lips. “So difficult.”

“One of my many charms,” Charles said, smirking, hoping to distract Max.

But Max persisted. “I’m twenty-six.”

“You were right, then,” Charles said easily. “I am also twenty-six.”

It was not a lie, as long as Charles counted only the years he spent before he was turned.

“You’re quite well-traveled, for someone our age,” Max mused. “How did you manage it?

“What would be the fun in sharing all my secrets?” Charles asked, keeping his tone light. “How else can I ensure you’ll come back for more?”

Charles knew it was unwise, proposing another meeting.

It wasn’t safe, only increased the chance that Max would see something Charles couldn’t explain—the lengthening of Charles’s fangs, the way his eyes went black when he hadn’t fed, Charles’s inability to tolerate the sun for more than a few moments.

Charles had witnessed the Inquisition firsthand, the witch hunts in Westphalia and Bavaria. He knew the risks of being perceived as different. Dangerous.

But Max laughed, open and happy, oblivious to Charles’s hesitations. “I’d like that. Seeing you again.”

Charles allowed himself a small smile. He wanted Max—deeply, urgently. Desperately enough to override his fear, the same desperation, Charles suspected, that had driven Max to his knees only a half-hour earlier.

“Good,” Charles said. “When are you free?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” Charles exclaimed, laughing. “Was my cock that good?”

Max stammered, flushing a bright red. Finally, he muttered out a self-conscious, “Charles.”

Charles laughed, the first real laugh Charles had had in months.

His laughs were normally a performance, a tool to convince someone to slip into a darkened doorway with him or take him home.

But his mask kept slipping with Max, and now he was laughing in that high-pitched, breathy way of his he’d always found slightly humiliating.

Max’s face, however, shifted into a broad grin. “I like your laugh.”

It was Charles’s turn to flush. “I sound stupid.”

“No,” Max said quickly, shaking his head. “You sound lovely.”

Charles looked fondly at Max. The thought of compelling Max to stay flitted briefly across Charles’s mind, but Charles dismissed it as soon as it appeared. He vowed to never compel Max. He wanted it to be Max’s choice, always.

“Thank you,” Charles breathed. “You can come tomorrow. After nightfall, yes?”

Max nodded eagerly. “Yes, Charles. Of course.”

#lestappen #vampire au #after me the flood #f1 rpf #f1 #formula 1 #fanfic #charles leclerc #max verstappen

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evans23 · 4 months ago

Text

The first and last one

Pairing : Lionel Shabandar x Reader OC

Summary : For the first time, Lionel wants to really settle in with a woman. Yet, you always shy away when he wants to make love with you. You eventually find the courage to admit to him you're a virgin and Lionel is quite aroused with the information.

Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Smut, loss of virginity, blood.

A/N : Hello dear 😁 I imagined this fic after having watched a show in which the main female character was a thirty years old virgin ashamed to admit it to her partner. I had three characters in mind for this story : Sinclair, David and Lionel. I wrote for the three of them but Lionel won my preference at the end. Hope you will enjoy it.

*** Thank you to @muiitoloko who has inspired I these lines.

Sinclair's version is here - David's version is here - Also read on AO3

Your meeting with Lionel has been fortunate but totally hazardous.

Indeed, six months ago, a colleague of yours had invited you to an exhibition. The crowd was overwhelming, and you had to find a secluded place to give your mind some respite. You were sitting down in front of a painting from an Italian painter, Titian, when you heard someone walking behind you.

You pretended to not have heard the intruder who came to perturb your need of privacy but the newcomer sat down next to you oblivious of your need to be alone.

“I’m glad you like this painting. It is my favorite,” he said with a baritone voice which had send shivers through your whole body.

You had turned to meet the most beautiful hazel eyes you had ever seen. Speechless in front of the alluring man, albeit older than you were, you just nodded coyly. Yet, the true was that little did you know you were talking to Lionel Shabandar. Of course you know the man by name, but you weren’t interested at all about his business. You didn’t even know he was the lender of most of the painting displayed at the exhibition. Lionel didn’t realise how oblivious you were of who he was, thinking that everybody present at the party knew it was organised, patronised and hosted by no one else than the incredibly generous Lionel Shabandar who will serve up in preview the new ideas to extend a little bit more his company and in the same way his power overall the Brits’ media.

“Of course, nothing is better to the eyes than the real beauty of a real woman.”

You had blushed hearing his compliment but not totally gullible about his motive, you kept some distance from the man. He transpired sex and he definitely wanted to shag you. However, you had to recognise he had for him some subtlety.

He talked a bit about arts with you and, even though you weren’t really knowledgeable in that field, your mind was sharp and bright enough to give a perceptive, interesting and lightening opinion about what you were looking at. Never ever would you admit to Lionel that at the time you weren’t interested at all about his arts. You fueled the conversation because his company was quite enjoyable even if he wanted something you wouldn’t let him get so easily, even less to an unknown man, but arts wasn’t your cup of tea. You grew to appreciate it thanks to Lionel's company and your desire to take an interest in his passion when you became more than acquaintances.

Little were you conscious that Lionel knew. You couldn’t fool a real passionate and your answers to his questions were sometimes to hesitant if not off the bean, but he never mocked you or did any mean remarks because he really appreciated the fact that he meant so much to you that you took up an interest into his. Besides, you were such a smart person to talk with that it didn’t matter if you were from a less background than his.

Indeed, you were just a mere saleswoman in a well-known bakery, even though since you were official, Lionel was insisting for you letting down your job. He was even ready to hire you in his company if the idea of just being his girlfriend was so infuriating for you.

What had captured the interest of Lionel was the fact that you had resisted him. That night, at the exhibition, not only were you utterly unaware of who he was but you refused his advances, two things which had aroused him more than anything else in his life.

He was definitely engrossed with you and he thought it would only be a matter of time before putting you in his bed, but he was so wrong. You revealed yourself as a stubborn, independent and thoughtful woman who wasn’t one to open her legs for everybody.

Therefore, he tries the good old method, which means he courted you and eventually fell into his own trap by falling truly, madly, deeply in love with you. In the beginning, he was awfully terrified of these new feelings.

Of course, he had already been in love, but he was so much younger. Another problem which wasn’t a problem at all as it didn’t bother any of you was the age gap. He was from 20 years your oldest but it made no difference for you as his mind and his body were much younger than some of your acquaintances. No, the worst part was to have fallen in love so easily, yet again you were such a clever and pretty girl and his relentless pursuits couldn’t have ended up in any other ways.

After one month being undettered by the desire to conquer you, he became your friend, your confident and after another month, your companion. The fifth months he asked, almost ordered, you to move in with him in his awfully huge mansion and you had accepted. Anyway, Lionel wouldn’t have it in any other way, he wanted you by his side.

He thought he would be the beginning of something else. Something more serious. To put in a nutshell, he thought you will let you make love to you as he had dreamed to since your first meeting. He had thought that your shyness from being more intimate came from the fact that your relationship wasn’t official enough. After all, he was quite aware of his reputation, but now, you were living under the same roof, sharing the same bed and he was in the desperate need of touching you. No, he could touch you actually, but past the forlorn, you inevitably back down, shutting yourself off.

The first week of your common life, you came with the excuse you had your period. He told you it didn’t bother him at all, but the disgusted look on your face had spoken louder than yourself about your stance on it. The second weeks you had a cold, which was true, and therefore you were too tired. Then, the two others weeks, you find any possible excuse to escape what should be a sheer pleasure between two lovers.

Lionel was seriously annoyed with your avoidance and his mind had him think you were maybe with him only for his money before shaking his head from left to right, not convince at all by this assertion. After all, you didn’t know who it was during your first meeting and even during the second. Indeed, during the exhibition, when he had understood you didn’t know who he was, he had introduced himself with his second name, William, and when, between the second course and the desert of your second meeting, he was sure you were utterly oblivious of his identity, he had revealed to you the true. A smile grew on his face at the memory of your shocked look. He would never forget how you had grabbed your phone to check on the internet if he was saying the truth and how much he had laughed when you had gawked at him, totally speechless.

If you asked him, he would tell you this moment was the moment he had understood you were different and that maybe you could be just something else than another woman in his bed. You were smart, shy but with a sharp mind and more than agreeable for the eyes, even though your appearance was more normal than some of the bimbos he had hung out with in the past. But more than anything else, you never talked about his money or even his company except if he was the one starting the conversation towards those topics. No, you were genuinely interested by the man. The real man. By him, Lionel. Yet again, he thought with a frown, why after so much time to spend together were you so distant at the idea to make love with him ?!

You were sleeping together every night since you had move in, he had already seen you naked in the shower and multiple times in your underwear as you weren’t the kind modest around him, you were really touchy, always brushing your fingers through his hair, landing your hand on his back or hugging him now and then, so why when you were obviously arouse with his attention in bed did you perpetually refuse him the pleasure to make you his ?

Tonight, he thought firmly, tonight you will have to explain yourself or it will put an end to your relationship. If the idea to receiving his cock was so repulsive for you, then your motives to be his girlfriend were standing somewhere else and he didn’t like that at all.

When he arrived home this night, a severe expression on his features, well decided to go through your shenanigans to the bottom of it and discover what you were up to.

Bracing himself to be subtle and not distressing you by calling you out for maybe no reason, he entered the living room where, as usual, you were waiting to have dinner with him. His expression soften immediately at the sight of your sleepy form and his heart swelled with affection. No ! He scolded himself, you have to stay firm, don’t less this pretty face of her prevent you from digging out the true.

He brushed the tips of his fingers along your cheek and smiled when you stirred without waking up. How a man like him could have fallen so hard for a woman when he had sworn to himself after his costly divorce that never would he be trapped in a serious relationship. And here he was, with you in his mansion, head over heels for you, but also frustrated as he had never been before with a woman. Why, when he thought to have finding the real happiness again, should it be so convoluted ?!

He was definitely infuriated, frustrated and in an immense need. He wanted to ruin you in all the way possible into his bed, in his office in the Shabandar Tower, on the counter in the kitchen and on his personal gallery floor. All of it the same day. If possible right know !

But sometimes you were like a little bird, shy and ready to fly away, so his cunning man had a plan to make you admit if you were really into him or if you had wronged him and you were just one of these insipid girl who only see the £ symbol in replacement of his pupils. If it was the case, and he hoped it was not, he would be far more than disappointed. He would be devastated. And even his first wife didn’t have the honour to say she had destroy the most powerful of the UK, so it will truly be a prowess you could gloat about with your relatives.

The mere idea you could not be the one he thought you were terrified him more than anything, because Lionel wasn’t easy to mislead. He was a thoughtful, educated, intuitive and clever businessman. No one, even his worst enemy in the cruel game of the stock exchange and the media business had ever succeeded in deceiving him.

He tried chasing away those thought. If tonight was your last night together, he wanted it to start in the less painful way possible. Therefore, he leant down to plant a kiss on your temple. You opened your eyes in a light startle, but when you recognised Lionel, your heart began to beat faster and your eyes became brighter.

“Oh, I felt asleep,” you said, rubbing slightly your eyes to eliminate the remains of weariness.

“Indeed,” answered Lionel with this voice of his which was like the roar of his beloved lion and never missed sending shiver all along your spinal column.

You got up, giving him a welcome kiss before asking him about his day.

“Too much meetings, follow-up meetings, then in the afternoon more meetings. Did I talk to you about my meetings ?” He said jokingly.

“I think so,” you said with a smile.

“And you bunny ? How was your day at the bakery ?”, he asked with a frown.

He couldn’t fathom why a woman as intelligent as you was losing her time selling cupcakes in a cliché little store, all in pink and unicorn. You had told him once that not everybody could pay the fees of an expensive university and because you were from a really modest class, you had no other choice than to forget your university dreams and find a job. But you were at peace with that now and you were rather happy with your job. People were regular customers, all pleasant and smiling and your boss wasn’t really demanding as long as you did correctly your job.

“Tiring,” you answered, kissing the top of his hooked nose.

He smiles at you and you immediately recognised the predatory look on his face. You swallowed down your saliva, inwardly conscious you must tell him the true. You have been refusing him for too long and you were now afraid he could think you weren’t really interested in him which was far from the truth. In fact, you weren’t interested in Lionel. No, you were in love and yet again it was a litote. You couldn’t quantify your love because it was so humongous that sometimes it was overwhelming.

Neither your parents nor your friends approved of your relationship with Lionel. Your parents thought he was too old for you and your friends, your so-called friend, were saying behind your back you were with him for his money. Therefore, you didn’t have any friends anymore and your parents being your parents loved you anyway… but not Lionel, who they thought was taking advantage of your gullibility for his own pleasure. Nothing could have been less true but you knew the worth of your love for him.

The problem was that you were afraid to take the plunge and losing your virginity. Actually, you weren’t afraid about the action itself, but about admitting to Lionel that you were still a virgin. An almost 35 years old virgin. How the hell could you still be cursed with it, seriously.

“Bunny, are you listening to me ?” asked Lionel with a grin.

You came back to your sense, forgetting your little problem, at least for the moment.

“I was asking you if you wanted to eat pasta tonight ?” he asked again, squeezing your ass.

“Yours ?”

“Of course dear. No one can match up my Carbonara Pasta.”

You nodded happily and Lionel leaded the both of you towards the kitchen, a pride look on his face. Any other day, you would have joked, telling him it was quite a stance for a man who could only cook pasta, but not tonight. Lionel could see you had something on your mind, but he didn’t say anything. He was imagining everything, the most likely being a breakup. He was so far from the reality. You were thinking about your damn virginity and how to explain that to him. Tonight, you thought. Tonight I tell him everything. Yes, you had made up your mind.

You helped him to cook the diner, the both of you chatting happily. You listened to him talking earnestly about his company and you couldn’t prevent yourself from feeling an urge of proudness at such a hard-worker and accomplished man.

While he was having a shower, you were pacing back and forth in your sharing room, trying to figure out how to tell him your little secret. You were afraid of his reaction. Would he laugh at you ? Would he be angry ? Would he have the desire to be your first one ? After all, Lionel was such an experienced man. What would he do with such a useless girl ?

No university degrees, no money and not even a man to fuck her. You felt the tears filling your tears. You tried to conceal them when Lionel came back in the room, but it was too late.

“Bunny, what’s the matter ?”’ he asked, genuinely concerned.

“No… nothing,” you stuttered, not missing the fact he was only wearing a towel around his hips, his skins still glowing with a rest of dampness from his shower.

“Then your’re crying for nothing ? And I am the king of England,” he said sarcastically.

Your soft laugh died in your throat while he cradled your face with his large hand.

“It’s just… my insecurities… you know…”

Lionel sighed heavily, a bit tired to have to constantly reassure you. Yet, if he needed to do so every day, he would.

“Bunny, no matter what is in this pretty head of yours, nothing is true. I am happy with you and I don’t care about anything else.”

So, right now, it wasn't totally true. He desperately wanted to fuck her, make her his by ruining her. And this little demoness has too many times refused him that pleasure which she would have been obsessed with as much as he was. Tonight, he thought again. If tonight she refused again to succumb to the pleasure of the flesh, it would be the end.

Unknowingly of Lionel thought, you too were deep into the recesses of your mind, thinking tonight.

"Let me show you," growled Lionel, caressing your arms with his hands.

He leaned on to kiss you, one of his hand finding its way to your ass, squeezing it while kissing your neck with hunger. He made you back into the bed, where he pushed you softly. You felt flat on your back, your heart bumping quicker and quicker. You knew what was coming. And this time you couldn't be a coward. Either you told him, either you remained silent and did the whole thing while keeping him in the dark. After all, how could he know ?

Lionel's hand yanked down your pyjama pants, kissing your legs in the process while you shivered under his attention. He was on his way to taking off your underwear when you stopped him in spite of yourself.

Lionel sighed heavily. It was enough.

"Bunny, I need to know," he began, pulling away from you to sit in the chair in front of the bed. "Are you with me for my money ?"

"What ? No ! Lionel ! No," you panicked.

"Then why are you refusing me the pleasure of having you in my arms ? And what I really mean is why can't I fuck my girl as it please me ?" he asked bluntly.

You blushed, looking down. It was the moment you were fearing. You understood immediately by the way his eyes looked at you that you had to tell him the true.

"I thought you were in love with me. But I'm not that sure anymore and it terrifies me," admitted Lionel.

You looked up at him, surprised to hear such a confession from the so confident Lionel Shabandar. For the first time, you sax a mixture of vulnerability, sadness and anger on his beautiful face.

"I love you," you whispered, crossing your arms in front of you in a vain attempt to protect yourself from all the strong feelings which were radiating off Lionel.

"Then what is your dirty little secret ? Was it a wager ? Luring an affluent man to prove to someone you could do it with your sinful charms ? Or are you such a good actress that you had always known who I am and all you wanted was deceiving me to get my money ?"

“No, Lionel !” you said with a sob.

“Then what are your motives, woman ?” he almost shouted.

You were now crying, your heart pounding heavily. You scolded yourself, telling you it was the decisive moment, either you told him the true or you will lost him and it would break your heart, losing the only man you had ever loved just because you were ashamed of your condition as a virgin.

You muttered the truth indistinctly, yet the redness on your cheeks was a good indicator for Lionel that you were trying to confess to him your little secret.

“Bunny, I need the truth. You know you can trust me,” he said in a softer tone.

He sat down next to you on the bed, taking both of your hands in his large one. You leaned up your head and your eyes dived into his hazel one. You could read his sincere devotion towards you, a far cry from his womanizer reputation.

“Bunny, you can’t let me imagine things about you,” he insisted, letting his vulnerability showing on the surface, “I can’t stand it anymore but I don’t want our relationship to bog down.”

It was the straw that breaks the camel's back as you started to cry harder.

“I’m a virgin,” you said, hiding your face with your hands.

The silence following your revelation was deafening. You finally found the courage to look at him and saw Lionel looking at you with a mix of curiosity, softness and hunger.

“Are you angry ?” you asked coyly.

“Angry ?” repeated Lionel, shaking his head, his fingers lingering on the top of your left tigh, “angry because you are such a pure marvel ? It’s that so ? You were afraid not to tell me the true and suffering for your first time or you were afraid of me discovering it while taking you with sheer passion ?”

“Both,” you admitted, blushing even more.

“Don’t be ashamed, bunny ! Do you… do you want me to be your first ?” he asked, gulping his saliva, his other hand grazing your arm.

“I want you to be my first and last one,” you whispered, rubbing your eyes reddened by your tears.

“Bunny, what a treasure you are offering me.”***

You surveyed his face, looking for mockeries, but all you could see was his sincerity and maybe more love than before. Also, a predatory glint that promised you a night nothing short of unforgettable.

“You’re not disgusted ?”

“Disgusted about what ? Tell me ? I just don’t understand how such a beauty like you is still a virgin. Don’t tell me never a man had tried anything. I wouldn’t believe you.”

You admitted having had some flirt but nothing serious enough to raise your sexual appetite while you could satisfy yourself with your own fingers. You explained to him it was nothing to do with religion or anything of that kind. You just wanted to do it for the right reason and not because someone, one day, had declared you should get rid of it before a certain age. You had seen your friends losing their virginity with random guys, sometimes at a very young age, just to feel more “woman” and you didn’t want your first time to be a better memory just to join the club of “now I’m an experienced girl”.

“Well, [Y/N], I’m honoured. I couldn’t fathom why you were always shying away from me when I wanted to lavish you with my skills, but now that I know… Don’t worry darling,” he said with a cheeky smile, “I’ve always enjoyed a challenge and tonight you will be my more beautiful masterpiece.”***

His hungry look send shivers down your spine while his hands ran around your thigh, pulling you towards him.

“You want it ?” he asked, genuinely concern at not forcing you to do something if you weren’t ready for it.

You nodded once, catching his lips with yours. You moshed when he pulled back, looking at him with uncertainty.

“I want to hear you say the word. I won’t do anything if I don’t have your full consent.

“Yes Lionel, I want to do it with you. I told you I want to be the first and last one and I want I know.”

His features soften, hearing how much you wanted him to be the only one to treasure you as you deserved.

“Oh believe me, after that night, you will wish to have known me sooner,” he said with a smug before adding, “and I will never let you go. From today on your'e mine and only mine to love and cherish.”

With those words said, he fell on you, kissing savagely your neck where he will definitely let his marks in the form of small bruises, but you didn’t care. You wanted to wear his love marks all over you.

“Be gentle,” you bashfully asked, “I’m a bit afraid.”

Lionel promised you he will be tender. He will definitely make this night memorable for both of you. Yet, he had to be careful. It’s been a long time since he had a virgin in his bed and you weren’t just any virgin, you were you and he was decided to keep you by his side for the long run.

He trailed kisses along both of your legs until he arrived at your entrance. Slipping his fingers inside your panties, he pulled it down in a deliberate slowness, not missing one inch of your reaction, looking for any sign of discomfort. Once he discarded your underwear, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and tucked it off too, throwing it down with the rest of your clothes. To your surprise, he got up, looking at you with a mixture of desire and joy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, more for himself.

Feeling too exposed, you tried to cover your breasts, but he stopped you with a growl, eyebrows frowned.

“Don’t hide from me ever. Enough of that now. You're mine and I want to admire what’s mine whenever I want.”

If your cheeks reddened more, you will soon look like a tomato, but it only makes Lionel chuckle with affection.

”Do you want to touch me ?” he asked, for the first time unsure of what he was doing.

Of course, you had already touched him. His torso, his legs… everything except the beast under his towel. Your hands wander from his cheek to the grey hair on his torso. You descended a bit more until your hand reached the towel around his hips. You looked at him uncertainly but he nodded to encourage you to tear it off and that’s what you did.

It wasn’t the first time you saw a penis, after all you had read really peculiar books through your life and you had traveled far enough to not be that innocent, yet you couldn’t prevent yourself to gasp when you saw the said beast.

Lionel was big. Not that you have a lot to compare with, but his member, already ready for you, was clearly above the average. Lionel observed you, attentive to your reaction, repressing a laugh when he saw you gawking at his cock.

“Don’t worry, bunny, I will take it easy on you. First, we need to prepare you, I want you to enjoy it as much as possible, but I can’t promise it won’t hurt because it will certainly.”

You nodded, shyer than before and also with a feeling of stupidity to have had so much apprehension about the reason for your distance when it came to sex. Indeed, Lionel’s reaction was far above your expectations and you felt guilty about having thought he could reject you for such a thing. A completely trivial thing as it appeared Lionel was everything, but disgusted by the revelation. Actually, he felt more aroused than ever knowing he would be your first and you could believe him, he won’t let you slip through his fingers after that.

“Did you ever touch yourself ?” he asked while caressing one of your breast, his other fingers playing with the earlobe.

“Obviously,” you answered before adding you were a virgin, not a nun, which makes him laugh genuinely.

“Oh, after this night you would not be either a virgin or a prude.” he gloated.

He began to bit your nipple, making you moaned softly.

“Don’t keep these pretty sounds, bunny. They are the proof of my talent,” he said, licking your breasts down to your navel.

“Lionel,” you moaned, eager for more.

“Patience my love, it’s your first time, I can fuck you without any foreplay. You can trust me, you’re going to have more than one orgasm tonight.”

You closed your eyes, feeling his hands moved down to your entrance. He grazed softly across the hairy area, his lips kissing your thigh. Then you felt his thumb rubbing your wet slit with a grin.

“You’re already so wet, bunny,” he said, more for himself.

You couldn’t say anything, your focus on his finger playing with your clit. Your hands reached out to grab his shoulders when he touched your sensitive clit with two others deftly fingers hidden beneath your folds.

“It’s here, isn’t it ?” he asked, continuing his slow rubbing against your flesh. Lionel continued until he felt her muscles contractions against his hand. He insisted a bit more until she moaned loudly.

“And here it’s the first,” he said proudly. “And I didn’t even put my finger inside you,” he added, intrigued to know how much pleasure he could give you just with his fingers before taking your purity forever with his cock.

He finally inserted one finger inside her, making her legs tensed to the feeling of his finger inside her fold.

"Lionel," you said with a moan.

"How does it feel ?" he asked, even though he could see just by looking at your expression how good it felt.

You were so overwhelmed by him, his love, his touch, everything that you couldn't find your words.

When Lionel put another finger, scissoring you slightly, you felt your legs tremble as well as your back while he continued his slow dance with his fingers within you while his tongue was playing wis your nipples, increasing your pleasure.

"You're so beautiful," said Lionel with his baritone voice that makes your body bristling.

"And you so handsome," you managed to say between two moans.

"Of course I am," he answered with a smirk.

He continued to pleasure you with his fingers stretching you, bringing you to the edge of your second orgasm. You eventually came when he pressed another finger against your clit, circling it at a slow pace. You threw a glance at his hard cock, not sure if you would be able to fit around it but you didn't have the time to think about it for too long as he made you come when he found your sensitive spot, making you squirmed under him while a scream of pleasure died in your throat.

You were still a bit hazy, in the midst of all the lavish pleasure Lionel was giving to you, when you felt his nose between your legs, then his tongue licking your wetness and playing with your clit. You weren't sure if you could bear another orgasm so close to the two others, but Lionel was sure you could and he certainly had his way with women. You were so wet and aroused, you couldn't prevent your hand from gently scratching the roots of Lionel's hair, who worked harder with his nose around your clit.

The sounds you were making were like a song to his ears, he knew he was pleasuring you and he took great pride in it. He knew he had a flair for make a woman cum but the feeling to make you his, make you wet and cum for him was almost overwhelming as his heart was swollen with love and joy to have find such a treasure like you.

Flicking your nipple with his callous hands, you involuntarily thrust your hips against his.

"Careful here, we don't want to rush anything, do we ?"

You let out a frustrating sound, which made Lionel laugh.

"You have been waiting until now," he said, looking up at you, "you can wait a bit longer before having me inside you no ?" he teased, pleased with himself.

He didn't wait for your answer, diving down his head between your legs, his tongue working around your entrance, kissing you there while his hooked nose was stroking your bundle of nerves aptly.

"Lionel," you said in one breath.

He smiled, licking your sex again and again, his own arousal becoming unbearable. He felt the need to be in you as his member became harder and harder. But not yet. Before, he wanted you to have another orgasm, to be as wet as possible to make you suffer the least possible.

You didn't last very long and Lionel stood up to cover you entirely with his body.

"You taste so good, bunny," he said with a smirk.

You blushed under his piercing eyes, yet he told you not to be embarrassed.

"Bunny, you're beautiful and there is no shame in doing what we are doing. You honored me by offering me your virginity and I want to lavish you as you deserve for trusting me in such a way that you abandon yourself in my favor."

You grabbed his shoulders to bring him closer. Understanding your intention, Lionel leaned towards you so that you could touch his back and his chest more easily while your lips captured his in a tender kiss.

"I love you," you said coyly.

It was not the first time you told him that, but it was the first time you said it orally. Ordinarily, you wrote it on a sheet of paper that you strewed on the kitchen counter or inside his briefcase to give him something to think of during his work.

"And I love you," answered back Lionel with a genuine expression.

He didn't say the word before and you were taken aback. You didn't think he will say it back, but you were more than happy to hear him confess his feelings for you, though you never doubt it.

"You still want to do it ?" he asked sincerely.

You nodded vigorously.

"I want to hear you say it, [Y/N]," he said firmly.

"Yes Lionel, I want you. I want you to make love with me, please," you almost begged.

With a satisfied smile, he placed his hard member in front of your entrance. You push a little bit your nails into the skin of his back, your eyes full of apprehension but also desire.

He pushed himself as slowly as he could, careful to be gentle, assessing the slightest sign of discomfort. He kissed your neck, your cheeks, your forehead and your lips while he continued to stretch your insides. When he filled you up entirely, he stopped, waiting to see your features relax. He felt a warm liquid enveloping his cock. He glimpsed down to see a small amount of blood tainted the Egyptian silk sheets and he felt a strange sort of vanity, knowing he was the one you had chosen to offer yourself to.

“Are you alright ?” he murmured in your ear.

“It’s hurt a little bit,” you admitted.

“It’s normal, bunny,” he said with a soft tone, “It will be better in a moment, I promise.”

Of course, you trusted him and he was doing his really best to be gentle when all he wanted to do was thrusting hard and fast your tight insides.

He kissed you again and again before asking you if you were ready. You weren’t able to verbally answer any of his question, but a mere glimpse at your eyes full of desire was enough to him starting to move inside you. The initial pain ebbed away while you felt a fire invading your whole body.

“You feel so good,” growled Lionel while sucking one of your nipple.

“Lionel, oh Lionel... oooh,” you moaned while your insides were throbbing with pleasure.

Soon he thrusted faster and you let out a strangled cry when he accidentally stroked your G-spot. You grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer to kiss his neck, totally lost in your building pleasure.

“Please Lionel, faster,” you pleaded, the stretch of your walls making you feel sensations your fingers had never let you experienced before.

“Bunny, you’re so tight... aaah... so tight and only mine,” he stuttered, licking your breasts.

You felt your muscles tensed and you knew you were close.

“Lionel... I… I will…” you couldn’t think clearly, even less talking while your back was arching to let your cunt receive more of Lionel’s cock.

He tried his best to hold back, wanting to let you come first.

"Don't close your eyes, bunny, I want to see you when you will come," he ordered.

You didn't last very long. He stroked your sensitive clit with his thumb, which had for effect to make you finish. You clung to him, letting out a cry which was a mixture of his name and other nonsense, as you were totally hazy with pleasure.

Lionel thrusted into you three more times before releasing himself with a loud groan inside your clenched cunt.

Out of breath, Lionel slipped out of you cautiously. You were panting and sweaty as well as was Lionel. He looked at you with adoration, his eyes twinkling with love.

"How do you feel ?" he asked while you cuddled up, your head on his chest, trying to find solace into his arms, still basking in the afterglow of your encounter.

"I'm happy," you whispered.

"Are you sore ?" he asked with trepidation.

"A bit," you answered honestly.

"Do you want me to run you a bath ?"

"No. I just want us to snuggle in bed."

"As you wish, my love."

He planted a lingering kiss on your forehead, a fond smile on his lips while you fell asleep. He felt a surge of love for you, one he never felt before for anyone and certainly not for his first wife.

You were certainly something else, a strange pretty little thing who had miraculously fallen into his life by the chance of your stars which were made to be crossed at some point in your life.

He took a glimpse at the blood in the bed and inwardly, he felt a wave of happiness at the mere thought of you who had been waiting for such a long time to be sure to give your virginity to the right man and knowing that he was the one for you made his heart swelled with pride.

"I will never let you leave, bunny. You're mine forever," he whispered in your ear.

You stirred a bit in your sleep but didn't get awake. Lionel let out a chuckle while his hand grabbed possessively your hips. Maybe you had waited for a major party of your life to find the right one, but so did he and now, with you in his arms, he felt the relief of the certainty. The certainty that he will have someone to share the rest of his life with.

#alan rickman x reader #lionel shabandar x reader #alan rickman #gambit 2012 #gambit #evans23

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vampyrixdarling · 7 months ago

Text

Shadow SH comfort

TW: heavily implied SH. That’s obvious.

Not gonna decorate this like my other works. I wrote this for me, and anyone else who needed it.

Word count: 900

Shadow sighed as he held up your arm, noticing how you winced in pain at the sudden contact. His sigh, however, was not one of anger. It was more so disappointment. Your arm was still sore, the stinging pain never once leaving as Shadow poured some disinfectant onto a rag, holding it above the wound.

He paused for a moment but began to speak. “This might hurt,” he said. “Are you ready?” You nodded, looking away and biting the inside of your cheek. He hummed, placing the rag onto the cuts as you hissed in pain. His eyes widened, taking into account how your breathing became more fast.

“Shh.. it’s okay.” Shadow spoke. His voice was deep and soothing as he attempted to comfort you. “I’m not mad. I promise. But you’re going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

You nodded, closing your eyes tight as you tried to think of something else— anything else than the substance cleaning your wounds. You felt ashamed. You felt horrible for scaring Shadow like that. You’d never forget the face he made when he saw you with the instrument above your soft skin. It wasn’t fair to him, having him waste all his time and emotions on you.

“…Why did you do this?”

You didn’t have an answer for him. You wanted to come up with one so badly, really you did, but you couldn’t. And the more you thought of it, the more your face heated up and you felt like sobbing all over again.

He looked at you again, removing the cloth as he grabbed bandages from the first aid kit beside you two. He wasn’t pleased with the lack of an answer, but he didn’t press further.

“Shadow.. I…” you began. You couldn’t finish your sentence no matter how hard you tried. It was like something was stuck in your throat, preventing you from saying anything you wanted to. “It’s okay,” he reassured you. “Don’t worry.”

You looked at him again, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. He looked like he wanted to say something. If you were to guess, he was probably trying to decide how to word it. As he wrapped part of the bandage around your arm, you winced in pain again.

“I’m sorry.”

That was all he said. He continued bandaging your arm, trying to be as gentle with you as possible. “…for what?” You asked. He didn’t answer for a moment. Instead he looked up at you, his red eyes making contact with yours. Was he mad at you? Fuck. He was totally mad. This was a mistake. It was a mistake coming to him. He probably thinks you’re a freak, he probably wants to break up with you. Why would he want to be with you when you—

“[Name].”

His voice brought you into reality once again as he repeated it. Your name rolled off his tongue perfectly. You blinked at him, and he took your silence as one of confusion. So he repeated himself.

“I’m sorry for not being here for you. I-.. I didn’t know. It must have been really bad, feeling as if I wasn’t here for you. But I am. Really, and I want to be. You’re amazing. Stunning. The most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on. I care about you a lot, you know. And.. I know I don’t fully understand this, but I want to. I want to understand how and why you’re hurting so I can help you. I love you.” He confessed.

…that was it. His eyes widened as you began to cry. He quickly finished wrapping your arm and looked back to you, putting a hand on your cheek. You couldn’t help but apologize through sobs. Again, and again, and again.

“[Name].. Don’t be sorry. Don’t apologize. There’s nothing you need to apologize for.” He said. You didn’t stop though. It wasn’t long before he extended his arms, silently offering you a hug. And you took it. You hugged him, pulling him close as you buried your face into his neck, still sobbing. He hugged back, rubbing circled along his back as he did his best to comfort you, whispering reassurances and comforting words.

“There are other alternatives.” He said. “Like a rubber band. Or drawing, whether that’s on your arm with a marker, or a pen.. you don’t need to hurt yourself. You’re good enough, [Name]. There’s other options than punishing your body with permanent scars.”

You nodded. It wasn’t long before he sighed. He wanted to help you in any way he could. So he’d try his best.

“…I’m scared of losing you.” He admitted. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. Every day I wake up and think to myself.. ‘how did I get so lucky?’.. you deserve so much more. So much more than what you have. Life isn’t fair, I know that. But.. but you’re not alone. Not when I’m here. And I won’t let you believe that you are. I love you. I love you so much..”

This was rare for Shadow. For him to truly get all emotional like this. But his words made you feel better. He hugged you tighter.

“…So when you’re ready… I’ll be ready. You can tell me what you’re going through. And we can talk about it. Together.”

You nodded, and it wasn’t long before you spoke.

#shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #tw self harm

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pedripics · 2 months ago

Text

Pedri: ‘I wrote to Dani Olmo to come to Barcelona, I wanted to play with him’.

(El Mundo - September 3, 2024)

A smile comes as easily as an assist when he is on the pitch. Even a touch of fine irony sweetened by the Canarian accent. Football has shown Pedri (Tegueste, 2002) its happy face, but also its bitter one in the form of injuries, doubts and malicious criticism. That, on occasions, has made him change his expression and hide the boy who enjoys playing on the beaches of Tenerife, always close to a sea that feeds him.

De la Fuente says you are insatiable, is the dressing room like that?

"Yes, we have talked about it in recent days. We have won the European Championship, but that is over and now we have to go and win the Nations League again."

From the World Cup until practically the Euro you were not with the national team, did you notice any changes?

"Football is usually the same, although it's true that each coach has his own rules. I noticed little change in the group. We still all go together and the rest is left out."

Now there is Nico or Lamine to brighten up the dressing room.

"With them we'll have fun for a while…" [Laughs]

Are they a lot of trouble?

"Some of them are. Ferri [Ferran Torres] gives me a lot, but I put up with it."

What should this team not lose?

"Above all, that fun, because when you have it off the field, it shows on it too."

Does the Canary gene provide tranquility?

[Laughs] "Yes, now there are three of us in the team [Ayoze and Pino] and it is clear that we are more relaxed than the rest."

They also bring a different touch, is that at risk of being lost?

"Maybe a little. Canarian football is about magic, about inventing things, about having fun on the pitch... And it's true that it's being lost because now everything is more robotic and physical."

Morata spoke about the lack of respect towards the players; Raphinha has confessed that he has cried a lot, has Pedri felt unfairly treated?

"Many times people have said things that are not true and that affects you. But, at the end of the day, when you are a professional footballer you know that you are in the spotlight and that people are going to talk about you."

Can you forget about that, do you work to manage it?

"In my case, I am a calm person, but there are people who have a very bad time and have to turn to professionals. You have to reinforce yourself in your family and in the things that make you happy in order to forget what people say."

When you were 19 years old, everything was praise and awards, did you understand when they became criticisms?

"My family warned me that it could happen at any moment. Nobody is prepared for criticism, but I dealt with it well because of my family's advice. It's true that there were things I didn't like because they were lies. They didn't tell the truth and that hurts. But you have to know how to be calm."

Years ago you said you were ashamed to become a star, have you lost that shame?

"When sometimes people recognise me in the street, I still feel a bit embarrassed and I don't know how to act. Day by day you get used to it and it goes away."

Is that what makes Pedri seem a bit distant at times?

"I'm not aloof, but sometimes I get embarrassed because I'm a little shy at first and it shows."

You confessed that you didn't want to be like other footballers, I don't know if that's advice you give to all your young team-mates who join Barça or the national team.

"I tell them to be themselves on the pitch, that they don't have to look up to anyone."

For years you were asked to get more into the box, and now Hansi Flick comes in and pushes you back….

"It's true that with Flick I'm playing further back, but it's a position I like. I'm in constant contact with the ball and, at the end of the day, what a player wants is to have the ball and the more the better. All the coaches ask me to go forward, but Flick also asks me to organise."

How did he explain this change of position to you?

"He wants me to stick to the '6' to get the ball out and, when we have it, to get up there and score goals and assist."

It is proving that it is compatible with Dani Olmo...

"At the Euros we laughed because we heard that we couldn't play together, that we were wondering who was going to start... We knew we could and, in addition, we get along very well and we understand each other on the field."

Do you think it was a somewhat forced controversy?

"If they tried to play us off against each other, they didn't succeed because we joked and teased each other about it, saying, 'No, we can't play together. Sorry.' We knew that maybe after the summer we would get together and it would be perfect."

Did you ask him to come to Barça?

"Yes, I wrote to him to come, that I wanted to play with him."

How has the atmosphere changed with Hansi Flick?

"With Xavi, everything was criticised, everything seemed to be going wrong, but now everything is going more smoothly. He is not criticised so much in the press and he has brought a sense of seriousness, although he is also a bit of a joker and is close to the players."

How close?

"A lot. Although he may seem like a robot and is very serious, he has a heart and knows how to lead a group. He is capable of giving a hug to anyone who needs it or having a chat with them."

And the debate about Barça's style, where does that leave us?

"It will always exist. We are still in control of the game, we have the players to do that, although with nuances, like going more into space."

There are some teammates who seem happier: Lewandowski, Raphinha...

"Those at the top like to play, have more chances and feel much more comfortable."

When you got injured at the Euros, did you ever think that someone had jinxed you?

"It's true that at that moment I thought about why everything had happened to me, what bad luck... But then I remembered a comment that they made to me to look at it on the bright side, because it was a fortuitous move and that I was physically strong. I took it like that, knowing that as soon as I recovered I would be back to 100%."

During all that time outside the pitch, where did Pedri take refuge?

"It's always been in my family. But I've tried a lot of things, pilates, cold water in the morning... I know my body better because I started very young and, whether you like it or not, it shows. Now I've found something that works really well for me..."

Tell me the secret...

"With Julio [Tous]'s specific work at Barça, strength training with bands, pulleys, etc., I feel very good. Then I continue doing pilates, although my teacher is now injured and can't teach now, and I continue with the hyperbaric chamber, cold water in the mornings, we control sleep... These are things that we have been adding to the routine."

What couldn't Pedri live without?

"Football. It's everything in my life. It's what I enjoy the most."

I thought you were going to tell me about the sea?

"That as well [smiles]. Having the sea nearby is something essential for me, as it is for all Canarians. It gives me peace. In Tenerife, I used to go to the beach a lot with my mates to play football and that helped me to relax and disconnect."

Can you still do that?

"It depends on which beach [laughs]. I have to choose it carefully. It's true that I do it less than before."

When are you happiest?

"With my family and now my little dog Nilo. My mother wanted to call him Thor, but I looked for other names and she let me choose. My parents live with me in Barcelona, although my father goes back and forth to Tenerife to take care of my grandmother."

And where does this habit of taking a penalty against your father when you win something come from? In Berlin you had to take it with your hand.

"It's a routine we have. I hope to win many titles so that I can stop. My father was a goalkeeper and he always told me that I had to get to the Third Division to beat him. Now we tease each other with that."

#‘I know my body better because I started very young and whether you like it or not it shows’#the mentality of this boy ❤️‍🩹#i love him a lot #pedri #pedri gonzalez #spain nt #*interview #*nations league

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akutasoda · 1 month ago

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please, can I request for angst no comfort (if you’re uncomfortable doing that it’s alright!) with Dan Heng? I think being on tumblr changed me? I crave so much angst now😞

or! If youre not in the mood, may I suggest fluff with Seth (ZZZ) or Heizou (GI) I BARELY see any Seth fics, only two on here, my bbg need more love than this! 🥺

thank you, I love your works!

-anon🧅

nightmares that bleed into reality

synopsis - his nightmares were frequent but now they seemed to hurt more than just him.

includes - dan heng

warnings - gn!reader, slight fluff, angst no comfort, arguments, wc - 575

a/n: as mentioned before, i wrote the seth one and posted it separately prior!!

it had been a more peaceful day on the express.

eventually, the tranquil day bled into the serenity of night that befell the train. everyone had resigned to their respective rooms which included you and dan heng. most days you would retire in your actual designated room, but occasionally you would join dan heng in his.

well, it was the data bank and so you only really started joining him when he fulfilled his promise of getting something a little more comfortable as a bed. you weren't asking much, just something more than pillows and blankets strewn across the hard floor, which was mainly solved by a roll mat or something similar.

simple conversations soon turned into hushed whispers as to avoid waking any other passengers - not that it was easy to. it wasn't too long until you both ended up lying side by side, legs entangled, and slowly drifting off into serene slumber. the express finally became cloaked in an entire veil of silence.

one that didn't last long. everyone was asleep. and yet, dan heng started tossing and turning. his mind was being tormented by violent visions. memories that didn't belong to him flashed through his mind, holding so much pain and suffering that it caused unease to settle in his mind.

you both knew it wasn't unusual for dan heng to have nightmares. they were the main reason that he didn't want to start sharing a room with you. dan heng feared that if he woke up, he'd wake you up and burden you with his problems - it was a common fact that dan heng didn't get much sleep because of them, he didn't want it rubbing off on you.

at first, it wasn't an issue. sure he did wake you up occasionally but it didn't take you long before you found says to help him calm down. dan heng actually found his nightmares more manageable with you around. whether that was because you helped him ground himself or simply because of your presence.

but tonight was worse.

he went through his usual tossing and turning before shooting up in a cold sweat. immediately you were woken up and it only took you a few seconds to realise he'd been shaken up by another nightmare.

you called out his name gently, sleep still heavily laced in your voice. unfortunately, dan heng was still caught up in what transpired in his nightmares. he couldn't recognise that you were beside him, that he was in the data bank. no. he thought he was in danger, and that you weren't who you were.

so he snapped. dan heng scrambled to push you away and pointed his spesr at you. you froze in pure terror.

it was only when his sleep muddled brain started clearing that he recognised you. the pure fear in your face that made his heart ache. dan heng was ashamed of himself. he shakily dropped his spesr and shakily moved away, what if he hurt you? what if he did something worse?

you couldn't even get a word out before he was asking, begging, you to leave.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

#🧅anon↩#x reader #x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr x you #hsr dan heng #dan heng x reader

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loveandmurders · 1 year ago

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If you’re taking requests, could you do a soulmate au with Bo and Vincent meeting their s/o for the first time? Thanks and have a good one!

Hello sweetie, thank you so much for this very cute request!

I wasn't too sure you wanted Bo and Vincent to share their s/o but it's what I did! I wrote two parts for this, but if people enjoy this AU, I might keep going.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

FINALLY FOUND YOU (Part I) - Bo Sinclair x female reader x Vincent Sinclair

Warnings: a little bit of angst, mentions of murders and malevolent intentions, mentions of sexual desires, mentions of Bo's chair, a few strong words

Vincent was at the kitchen table, sipping on his coffee as he was watching his wrist with a lot of attention. The little black spiral with two dots reminded him that he was supposed to have a soulmate, somewhere in this world, sharing this same mark with him. It reminded him that he most likely would never find them because of his way of life, and it was breaking his heart a little more than he would like to admit it. He even became a workaholic because it prevented him from thinking and being hurt by the thought that the choices he made to follow his mother’s work was actually destroying any happy future with his soulmate.

He looked up from his wrist when he saw Bo coming in, always a little bit ashamed to be caught staring at his mark. He should be stronger and better than dreaming of his soulmate. Because love really didn’t matter.

“Whatcha doin’?” Bo asked and Vincent shrugged. “Watchin’ the soulmate mark again?” he arched an eyebrow at his twin “Com’on Vinny, ‘m gonna believe ya’re a romantic.” Bo teased his brother who rolled his eye at him and left the room to get back into his basement. Vincent couldn’t stand talking about it, and Bo was only hiding his own hurt under teasing and jokes.

Bo sighed and rolled his sleeve to be able to have a look at his own mark. It was a circle with two dots on top of it. He sighed. Like his twin, he had no hope to ever find his soulmate, and sometimes, late at night, it was like a hole inside his chest, a missing piece that he would neve be able to find.

Sometimes he wondered if his brothers and himself didn’t make a mistake.

You were thinking the same thing as you were currently lost in the middle of nowhere with an unhappy car. Because of the Louisiana heat, your car engine was forcing you to have breaks from time to time or it was worryingly fuming a thick white smoke. You were currently out of your car, cursing yourself for not having borrowed a better one, but it would have been more expensive too. And you were cursing the universe for being where you were - a dusty road - with no connection. You couldn’t even call your parents to ask them to help you read a stupid old map that you had laid down on the hood. At the gas station you went by, they sold maps but you didn’t realise they were ten years old. You were supposed to go to Mexico for a little holiday by yourself. But instead you were there, not even certain anyone would come by to help you.

After a little while, you sat back inside the car. You leaned against the seat before looking down at your shoulder where your soulmate mark was. It was a spiral inside a circle with three dots around it. You often wondered where the person was. Your parents met so early in their youth, so you were getting a little bit desperate and impatient.

You also were very curious because of all the things you heard about soulmates, and especially about your own mark. Your grandmother used to say, when she was still alive, that your mark was a special and complex one. You had three dots which meant you might have two soulmates. You did notice that it was rare to see more than two dots, and you often wondered if she was right about it.

But what was the point of having two soulmates if none of them were currently in your life?

You sighed. This day would have been so much easier if you knew even just one of them. You could have called them at the gas station and they would have decided that it was too stupid of you to leave like that, and they would have found you and left for holidays with you. No actually, you would have left for holidays with them right away. And you wouldn’t be in this mess.

You could be so impulsive sometimes. You really needed someone to keep an eye on you. And if the universe thought you needed two people for this job, it might be right! But where were they then?

You shook your head, it wasn’t the right time to think about it right now. There was no one to help you and you needed to find the right path. You noticed that your car stopped fuming and you thought it might be a good moment to resume driving. You decided that it was like when you were lost in a forest, you needed to keep going straight in front of you to find a way out. It was what you did and it kind of worked because you arrived at the sign indicating the House of Wax Museum of Ambrose. You didn’t remember seeing anything about this city on the map but you thought it might be a good place to stop by. You hoped that someone could help you with the directions or your car or, even better, with both.

Those past few weeks you had felt like you were running out of luck. You couldn’t even count the number of glasses and plates you clumsily let fall on the ground and broke. You couldn’t count either the number of times you accidentally hit the corner of a table, entered into a wall or a door. Your mother had told you it might be good news but you didn’t see why. Then she explained that there was this old wife tale about running out of luck before meeting your soulmate. Apparently the more bad luck happening to you before finally finding your soulmate, the more intense your bond would be with them.

You couldn’t stop yourself from thinking that the universe had a twisted sense of humour if that was true.

You kept following the road, trying to see where you needed to turn to go into Ambrose. You were about to find the right intersection when your car decided it wasn’t going to go any further. At the instant, it stopped, you started to scream and you hit your wheel, hurting your hand in the process. You wanted to break something so you grabbed the map and destroyed it. You finally calmed down and leaned into your seat, closing your eyes. You looked down at the pieces of sheet absolutely everywhere and facepalmed. Alright, you needed to take a big breath and to walk to Ambrose. It was going to be alright.

You stepped out of the car, took the keys, just in case, and started to walk. The heat was getting quite unbearable and you couldn’t wait to ask someone for some water and to lie down under some shade. You weren’t feeling too well, a little bit nauseous too. You had no idea how much longer you would be able to keep going.

You finally reached the town… and you collapsed. You had walked for quite a long time under the sun and your body just couldn’t take any more of it.

Bo was leaving the church so he saw you falling. He thought that it was his lucky day.

It had been a couple of days no one came by, and you clearly didn’t look like someone who could resist them. Bo thought you were going to be such an easy job that he could even just hand you over to Vincent for him to put burning hot wax on you. It was a plan he would be happy to follow… Except if you were pretty enough to end on his special chair.

He walked to you and realised you were already starting to get back to reality. Your head was hurting quite a lot though and you instinctively brought a hand to it. He looked at your face and body with a lot of attention like a predator gauging its prey. Damn, he had to admit you were going to be such a snack. Actually, he didn’t remember having desired someone that much before. To the point, he wasn’t even certain he wanted to share anything with Vincent. He would be very glad to keep you all to himself in his garage. His heart twitched a little bit at the thought of him hurting you though… But he was a dangerous man, it was in his nature. He couldn’t help it, right?

You tried to ask for help as you were half aware of the shadow of a man looming over you, not realising that the man was eager to give you anything but help. You were too weak to understand, and your mouth too dry to beg. Bo was about to grab your arm when he saw your soulmate mark.

He wasn’t an expert but it looked familiar and new at the same time. He cursed under his breath and instead of pulling you down the road like a sack of potatoes, he gently lifted you up and carried you bridal style to his house. You fainted again as if your body calmed down in Bo’s presence. He wanted to ask Vincent what he thought about the mark.

As a family and conservative man, he grew up with the strong belief that two things couldn’t be messed with: God and soulmate marks. So he really didn’t want to do something stupid if you happened to be his soulmate… Or Vinny’s… Or both. Bo couldn’t really explain why he felt that way, but he recognised his circle and Vincent’s spiral on you. He thought he might be wrong though. If the man realised you weren’t their soulmate, boy, he would give you such an awful death for having given them false hopes like that.

Bo opened the house door with his back and put you down on the couch. He had a closer look at your soulmate mark. The three dots were putting him off a little because he only had two, like Vincent. The circle really seemed to be his, though. He thought that Vincent, with his artistic eye, would be better at telling if your soulmate mark was identical to theirs. Bo screamed Vincent’s name for his twin to come over. Bo wondered about something though; if you were both the men’s soulmate, how would they be able to share you? He shook his head, he was probably imagining things and you were just a random lost tourist who was soon going to be killed.

Vincent arrived soon after, a little bit surprised his brother was already back home and asking for him. He was even more surprised when he saw the most gorgeous darling on the couch. He sent a quizzical glance to Bo who gestured toward your shoulder. Vincent had a closer look and paused. He looked back at Bo.

“Ok, ‘s stupid, but… Looks like our soulmate marks” Bo explained before looking away. It was a sensitive subject when he couldn’t annoy his twin about it. Vincent looked back and his fingers gently traced your mark. It felt like electricity was running down his hand. It was a very obsessing and addicting feeling. He definitely wanted more, but Bo couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his twin’s wrist. He only realised what he did when Vincent turned back to him in curiosity.

“Shit, don’t know why I did that… Just don’t touch her, ok?” Bo grumbled and Vincent hummed.

Vincent went into the kitchen to grab a noteblock and a pen. He quickly reproduced his own mark on the paper. He silently asked Bo to show him his, which Bo did a little bit reluctantly. Vincent tried to overlap the two marks. He placed his spiral inside Bo’s circle and realised that one of the dots was placed in the same way for both of them, which did create three dots in total. He placed the paper next to your shoulder. Your mark and his little drawing were identical.

“Shit” Bo repeated and both the men sat down.

They stayed silent for a little while, watching you sleeping and thinking how gorgeous you were and how relieved they were to have finally found you.

But something was bothering the two of them: how were they supposed to share you?

PART II

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