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aliyahwritings · 23 days ago

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THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (01)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 4.2k

Aliyah's Notes: this is my first series on here so go easy on me (#adele) pls + some things are not going to be obx canon ... at least some of yall are warned. anyw im so excited for this cause lord knows the amount of time ive wanted to make a fake dating fic!!!!!!! anyw i hope you all will enjoy this i had so much writing the first chapter

The clatter of high heels against the marble floor echoed in perfect sync with the ticking of your watch. Every step was deliberate, poised—just like your life had to be. Perfection, it seemed, was not a choice but a requirement for survival.

You adjusted your sunglasses, your gaze skimming over the glamorous expanse of the fashion agency's lobby. People buzzed around you like bees in a hive, their worlds spinning, fueled by the weight of names, status, and flawless images. You smiled politely at the receptionist, offering a nod, though your mind was miles away.

To the outside world, your life was golden. The covers of magazines, the invitations to high-society events, the million-dollar deals with luxury brands—it was a fantasy that others could only dream of. It was your dream some time ago, too.

But today, your reality felt like walking on the edge of a tightrope, the safety net fraying below you.

Your phone vibrated in your purse, interrupting your thoughts. You fished it out, your pulse quickening when you saw the text from your lawyer. Three words that sent a chill through your carefully constructed façade.

"We need to talk."

Your heart sank. The issue of your visa had been hanging over your head like a storm cloud for months now, growing darker by the day. You’d known this was coming, but knowing and confronting it were two different beasts.

Fame didn’t shield you from the cold bureaucracy of citizenship laws, and your time was running out. One misstep, one delay, and your golden empire could crumble. In a matter of months, you could be deported, left behind by the very country that had built you up.

With a deep breath, you silenced your phone and slid it back into your purse. This wasn’t something you could dwell on right now, not in public. Your expression remained serene, even though your mind was anything but. You had a shoot in an hour, a charity gala that evening, and at some point, you had to meet with the lawyer to discuss "options"—a word that had started to feel more like a trap than a solution.

As you exited the building, the cool breeze caught your hair, the city unfolding before you like a glittering stage. New York City. You looked out at the streets, the people, the life you fought so hard to build. The car pulled up to the curb, and you climbed inside. On your way to your lawyer.

You stepped into the law office, the familiar scent of polished wood and stale coffee wrapping around you like a tight band.

"Ms. Y/L/N, good afternoon," Nicolas Ramirez, your lawyer, greeted you, standing behind his desk. His expression was composed, but you knew him well enough by now to spot the unease in his eyes.

"Hi," you softly smiled at him. Your heels clicked softly on the floor as you sat down, crossing your legs tightly, as if holding yourself together. "Let’s just get straight to it, okay? How bad is it?"

Nico sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Your visa expires in less than three months."

You felt your stomach twist, your worst fear inching closer to reality. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. "And what about the appeals? The extensions?"

"We’ve exhausted every possible option—work visas, artist visas, even humanitarian grounds. Immigration laws are tightening, and without a permanent solution like citizenship or residency, you’ll be forced to leave the country."

"Leave?" Your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the full weight of the nightmare you’d been living with.

Leave? Go back there?

The country you had fought so hard to escape. The country where your childhood had been marked by suffocating poverty, where your parents had already planned your marriage before you even turned 15. Where your dreams had been a distant, impossible hope until that one person changed your life forever.

You felt your throat tighten. You couldn’t go back.

Nico’s gaze softened slightly, his voice gentle but firm. "I know what this means for you. I know how difficult—"

"You don’t know," you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended. "You… You don’t know—I can’t go back there, Nico. I just… I can’t."

He nodded, giving you a moment of silence to compose yourself, but the pressure in your chest only grew. You took a deep breath, trying to keep the panic at bay.

"So what now?" you asked, fighting to keep your voice steady. "Is this it? Am I out of options?"

"Well… There’s one option we haven’t explored yet." his tone was cautious, like he knew what he was about to say would open a new can of worms.

You furrowed your brow. "What?"

"Marriage."

The word hung in the air, thick and heavy. You blinked, unable to comprehend at first. "Marriage?" you repeated, as if saying it aloud would make the absurdity of it clear.

"It’s one of the few legal paths left," he explained, leaning forward slightly. "Marriage to a U.S. citizen could secure your green card and, eventually, permanent residency. It’s a legitimate route—many people in similar situations have done it."

You sat back in your chair, the tension in your body coiling tighter. The thought of marriage, of attaching yourself to someone you barely knew for the sake of staying in the country, made your skin crawl. You had already sacrificed so much for your freedom, for your career. And now this?

"You’re telling me the only way to stay here is to marry someone I don’t even love? Just to avoid being sent back to a country I don’t belong in anymore?"

"Not necessarily," Nicolas said, his tone measured. "It wouldn’t have to be a traditional marriage. Think of it as a business arrangement. It’s a legal partnership—nothing more. And it could save your career, your life here."

You crossed your arms tightly, your mind racing. Marriage. It was a word that had haunted you ever since your parents had tried to force you into it as a teenager. Back then, it was their way of controlling you, of keeping you bound to a life you didn’t want. Now, it felt like the universe was throwing the same chains back at you, just in a different form.

"I’ve compiled a list of potential candidates," Arjun continued, sliding a piece of paper across the desk toward you. "People who might be open to an arrangement like this. Athletes, businesspeople—individuals who might benefit from a similar deal."

You glanced at the paper but didn’t pick it up. The names blurred in front of your eyes. This wasn’t how your life was supposed to go. You’d already lost your family, fought tooth and nail to get out of your country and build something for yourself in the U.S. And now you were at risk of losing everything—again.

"I don’t know if I can do this, Nico," you said quietly, shaking your head. "I’ve already sacrificed so much. My family… I gave up everything to be here. And now you’re telling me I have to give up even more?"

"I’m not telling you that you have to do anything," he replied, his voice calm but firm. "I’m saying this is an option. One that could keep you here, legally. But the decision is yours. I’m just laying out the possibilities."

You swallowed the familiar knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

"I can’t go back there," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. "I’ve worked too hard to get here. I can’t lose everything."

He nodded slowly. "Then maybe it’s time to consider unconventional options."

You finally picked up the paper, scanning the names but not really seeing them. Your heart was racing, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. Marriage. It felt like a trap, just like it had back then. But maybe—just maybe—it was the only way to keep your future intact.

"I’ll think about it," you said, standing up and smoothing the front of your dress. "But I’m not making any promises."

"Of course," he said, standing as well. "Just let me know. We’re running out of time, but I’ll support whatever decision you make."

You nodded curtly, turning toward the door. As you stepped out into the cool city air, your chest tightened with the weight of everything you stood to lose. The lights of New York City flickered ahead of you, just out of reach, as though the life you’d built here could vanish at any moment.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt truly afraid.

Your phone buzzed, dragging you out of your spiraling thoughts. You fished it out of your purse, heart skipping a beat when you saw the name: Nina. Your agent.

With a shaky exhale, you answered. “Nina, hi.”

“Hey, babe!” Nina’s voice was all cheer, a stark contrast to the storm inside you. “So, I have amazing news! Guess who just got major campaign offers coming in? You! Chanel, Loewe, and oh my God, don’t even get me started on Louis Vuitton. The year starts beautifully for you!”

You should’ve felt ecstatic, but instead, the words passed over you like an echo. All you could think of was the countdown Nico had set in motion: three months. Three months before everything you’d built here would be taken away from you.

“That’s… amazing, Nina,” you managed, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Really amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Are you okay? You don’t sound like your sunshine-self.” Nina’s voice softened, concern creeping in. “What’s going on?”

There was a pause. Nina had been there through all your ups and downs, from your rookie days as a model to your rise in the industry. But the immigration issues, the fear of being sent back to a life you couldn’t return to—that was something neither of you could control.

“Three months?” she repeated, her voice going higher. “Oh my God—what the fuck? I thought… I thought you had more time.”

“So did I.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Nina, I don’t know what to do. I’ve called Nico and he tried everything—extensions, appeals—but the laws are tightening, and he said there’s only one real option left.”

There was a brief silence before she asked, “What option?”

You bit your lip. “Marriage. Nico says I could marry someone for a green card.”

“Marriage?” Nina’s voice came out in a shocked squeak. “Like a fake marriage? Babe, are you serious?”

“I don’t know!” you burst out, frustration and fear colliding. “I don’t know what to do! I can’t go back there. I can’t. My parents… My parents already wrote me off as dead, and if I go back, I’m stuck in a place I spent my entire life trying to escape.”

Her voice softened. “I know, honey, I know… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound—God, I can’t imagine how scary this is for you.”

You took a shaky breath, grateful for her understanding. Nina wasn’t just your manager—she was one of the few people who you actually close to. She was a 34 years old American-Filipina woman. You trusted her with your life.

“Okay,” Nina said, her voice more focused now. “Okay, now listen. We’ll figure this out. I know Nicolas wouldn’t suggest something like this unless it was a real option. Do you trust him?”

You sighed. “Yeah. I do. But the idea of marrying someone just to stay… it feels like another version of what my parents wanted for me. Like I’m back in that same time of my life.”

“I get it. But this isn’t like that. You’re in control this time,” Nina said. “If this is what you need to stay here, it’s not about love or being owned by someone.”

You nodded to yourself, trying to absorb her words. “Well, um, Nico gave me a list of potential candidates—people who might be willing to make an arrangement. You’ll never guess who’s on it, though.”

“Who? Shawn Mendes? Harry Styles? Tom Holland—”

“Rafe Cameron,” you said, cutting her off. “The basketball play—”

“Yeah, I know who that man is, Y/N. His reputation is a total mess right now. It’s not surprising for him to be on that list.”

“Exactly,” you muttered. “It’s a perfect business arrangement for him, too. He needs a way to look respectable again, and I need to stay in the country.”

“So, you’re actually considering this?”

You leaned against a streetlamp, staring at the city around you. “I don’t know. Maybe? It just feels wrong. Like I’m giving up a part of myself.”

“As nicely as this can be said, you are being dramatic here, babe.” Nina sighed softly. “Look, I’m not going to push you either way, okay? But I do think you need to look at it from a different angle. You’re not giving up on yourself. You’re doing what you need to do to stay here, to keep fighting for your career and your future. And Rafe—or whoever you’ll end up marrying—is not your parents. He’s not going to control you or he’ll get slapped.”

You closed your eyes, trying to let her words sink in. She was right—you were in control now. This wasn’t the same as being forced into a marriage you didn’t want. This was about survival. About keeping your life in the U.S. intact.

"Yeah… I guess you’re right," you said softly, feeling some of the tension release from your shoulders. "I just need time to think."

TWO WEEKS LATER.

The soft glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, casting warm light across your living room. After two relentless weeks of back-to-back fashion shoots, campaign meetings, and gala appearances, you had finally found a moment of peace. You curled up on the plush sofa, sinking into its embrace as the hum of the city outside became a distant murmur. The oversized, loose pajamas you wore were a far cry from the designer gowns and couture you’d been draped in recently, but they were yours—soft, comforting, and familiar. Your hair was twisted into a lazy bun under a satin bonnet.

You exhaled a sigh of relief, finally feeling the weight of exhaustion slip from your shoulders as you closed your eyes.

Buzz. Buzz.

The sound of your phone vibrating on the coffee table pulled you from the calm. You groaned softly, reaching for it with one hand, expecting to see another notification about a meeting or event. Instead, it was a message from Nicolas.

“Any thoughts on who you're going to marry? We need to move quickly if we want to ensure everything goes through in time.”

The familiar weight of the situation you’d been trying to avoid crept back into your chest. Two weeks had passed since your lawyer had first laid out the reality of your visa situation. In those weeks, you'd thrown yourself into work, hoping the constant flurry of activity would drown out the anxiety. But now, in the quiet of your home, the decision loomed large again.

You typed back, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

"I haven’t decided yet."

A few seconds later, the reply came through.

"We need to discuss this in person. Can you come to my office today?"

You frowned, your eyes darting around the cozy room, not quite ready to leave your home.

"How about you come here instead?" you typed. "It’s been a long week, and I’d rather talk in private."

There was a pause before the three dots appeared, and then the message followed.

"Sure. I’ll be there in about an hour."

You put your phone down and leaned back against the cushions, staring at the ceiling. This wasn’t a conversation you wanted to have, but it was necessary. Time was running out, and you knew you had to face it—whether you wanted to or not.

An hour passed in a blur, and soon enough, you heard the knock at your door. You padded across the room in your socks, your oversized pajama pants swishing softly as you walked. Opening the door, you found Nicolas standing there, looking as composed as ever in his tailored suit.

“Come in,” you said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in.

Nicolas entered, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. "You look... relaxed."

You gave a soft chuckle, gesturing to your pajamas. “Don’t mock the pj’s until you’ve tried them.”

He smiled slightly, but there was a hint of emergency in his expression as he took a seat in the armchair across from you. “I know you’ve had a lot on your plate lately, but we really need to make a decision.”

You nodded, sitting back down on the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. “I know… I’ve just been avoiding it.”

“And I noticed,” he said, pulling out a folder from his briefcase. “But with the visa expiration approaching, we don’t have much time. We need to find someone—someone who understands the situation and won’t make things harder.”

You bit your lip, holding a smile, glancing at the folder in his hands. “You bought the list?”

He nodded, and handed it over, and you flipped through the names, recognizing some immediately. Athletes, businessmen, even a couple of actors/singers. And then there was Rafe Cameron, his name standing out like a bold headline.

“I’ve looked at these,” you said quietly. “I just… I don’t know who to choose. None of ‘em feel right.”

Nico leaned forward. “It's not about right or wrong. It’s about who can offer the least amount of personal complications and help you secure your residency. Rafe Cameron, for instance—he’s someone who could benefit from this arrangement as much as you. His reputation needs mending, and this could be a mutually beneficial situation.”

You stared at Rafe’s name, the memories of seeing his name in the news about how much of a womanizer he was… Could you really tie yourself to someone like him in a fake marriage?

“Alright, but I need you to help me decide,” you admitted, looking up at him.

He nodded, his expression understanding. “Of course, that’s why I’m here. Let’s break it down together and figure out who makes the most sense, not just legally but for your peace of mind.”

Nicolas opened his briefcase again, pulling out more detailed files on the potential candidates. He laid them out neatly on the coffee table, each name with a stack of information—financial records, personal histories, public perceptions. It was all very businesslike.

You leaned forward, looking at the pages in front of you. Each one represented a major decision, a shift in your life you weren’t entirely ready to accept, but you knew you didn’t have much of a choice.

“Let’s start with the most practical options,” he said, sliding the file on Rafe Cameron toward you. “I know his name has come up before. He’s wealthy, influential, and… well, let’s be honest, he could use a boost to his public image right now. It’s a good match on paper.”

You stared at Rafe’s name again, tapping the edge of the file with your finger. “Yeah, but he’s also a bit of a mess, isn’t he? I mean, the media paints him as this… whore, and his personal life is always talked about. What if that blows back on me?”

Nicolas raised a brow. “That’s something to consider, but you also have to think of the benefits. His public image might not be very clean, but he’s powerful. Marrying him would put you in a stable position, and if it’s a business arrangement, his private affairs don’t have to concern you.”

You exhaled slowly, still feeling uneasy. Rafe Cameron was trouble, and you knew it. But at the same time, trouble might be exactly what could make this work—for both of you.

“What about the others?” you asked, flipping through the files. “There has to be someone who’s… less complicated.”

“Well,” he said, tapping another file. “there’s Owen Turner. He’s a succesful tech entrepeneur, keeps a low profile. No scandals, no messy reputation. He’s reliable, but you’ll have to approach this differently. He’s more private, less likely to want his personal life on display.”

“And boring—plus, he seems like the type of white guy to want a traditional wife. Like he would expect me to cook for him every night… and he has an ugly name.”

“Owen won’t be expecting home-cooked meals, Y/N. He’s a tech guy; he probably lives on energy drinks and instant ramen,” Nico pointed out, trying to steer you back to the serious topic. “But if we position it as a legal arrangement, he could see the value in it.”

You sighed, leaning back on the chair. “Okay, maybe Owen is the safer options. But can you imagine our wedding announcement? ‘Succesful Tech Entrepeneur Married Famous Model: They Share a Love for Cats and Instant Noodle.’”

Nico shook his head, trying not to smile. “Focus, please. This is a serious matter.”

“Right, right, sorry…” you said, wavering your hand dismissively. “But, what do you think about Rafe?”

“Rafe Cameron is the most straightforward option,” he said, his tone now more measured. “He’s already in the public eye, which means there won’t be as much of a shock if you’re suddenly married. Plus, his need for good press aligns with your need for stability.”

“And personally?”

He smiled softly, a rare gesture from him. “Personally, I think you should go with the person you think you can manage.”

You nodded, appreciating his honesty. Staring at the stack of papers in front of you, Rafe Cameron’s name glaring up at you from the top of the list. Every name on the list had its pros and cons, but something about Rafe’s file felt different. Maybe it was the intensity of his media coverage, the scandals, or the way he dominated the headlines for all the wrong reasons. But as much as you hesitated, his name kept pulling you back.

“I know his reputation isn't spotless,” Nico said, sensing your hesitation, “but in this situation, a clean reputation isn’t the priority. You need someone powerful, someone with enough influence to make this arrangement stick without getting tangled up in emotional complications.”

You nodded, again.”But I don’t know if I can handle all the baggage that comes with Rafe Cameron. His public image is a trainwreck. Wouldn’t that only complicate things more?”

Nico leaned back in his chair, looking thoughtful. “Possibly. But think of it this way: his personal life is already so chaotic that a stable, respectable marriage might be exactly what he needs to repair his image. And that’s where you come in. You’d be helping each other.”

Your eyes dropped back down to his file. "Do you think he'd even agree to something like this?"

Nico chuckled softly. “If there’s one thing I know about men like Rafe Cameron, it’s that they understand deals. His reputation is hanging by a thread, and a marriage to someone like you—someone with a pristine public image—could be the ticket to restoring his credibility. It’s a win-win, really.”

You considered Nico’s words. He was right. Rafe had everything to gain from a marriage of convenience, just like you. And while his scandals were messy, they didn’t define him entirely. He was still an elite athlete, one of the best in the game, and with the right PR strategy, you could both come out looking better.

But the thought of marrying someone like him—a notorious playboy with a history of messy breakups—made your stomach churn.

“You know,” Nico continued, “if this were just about your visa, we’d be having a different conversation. But this is about your entire future. Your career, your freedom to stay here, everything you’ve built. I’m not saying it’s an easy choice, but it’s one worth considering.”

You sighed, the weight of the decision pressing down on you. "What happens if it falls apart? What if things with Rafe go wrong?"

"That’s why we’ll draft a contract," Nico reassured you. "This won’t be a traditional marriage, Y/N. You’ll both have clear boundaries, and legally, we’ll protect your interests. If things go south, you’ll be covered."

You stared at the file a little longer, then closed your eyes.Rafe Cameron. He was cocky, possessive, and reckless—everything you usually avoided. But maybe that was the key. You wouldn’t have to worry about him trying to control you or make this anything more than a business transaction.

It would be messy. It would be complicated. But it would also keep you here, in the country you’d fought so hard to call home. And maybe, just maybe, it would be the solution you both needed.

“Okay,” you said softly, your decision finally settling. “I’ll do it.”

Nico’s eyebrows shot up, a little surprised at how quickly you’d made up your mind. “You’re sure?”

“No,” you admitted with a weak smile. “But I think this is the best option. I’ll marry Rafe Cameron.”

Nico nodded, closing the folder with a satisfied smile. “Good. I’ll set up a meeting with him. We’ll get the ball rolling.”

Oh God, you were going to marry Rafe Cameron…

chapter two

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shotmrmiller · 3 months ago

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sugar daddy!simon would go so hard cuz he'd need no sugar but lets his hand linger on the small of your back when standing at the register with his wallet out or grab your foot to massage beneath the table at the upper scale restaurant yall are dining at.

he doesn't push (surprisingly but hey it works for you!) you give him whatever you want, be it just your hand to hold or a chaste kiss on the cheek in thanks after carrying all the stuff he bought to your room. he spoils you rotten regardless but then the issue comes when you actually want him to touch you.

simon doesn't touch. not when you model the little slips of clothing he so generously gifted you from that one overpriced shop at the mall. not when you wear his favorite skirt, the one that got him to talk to you in the first place on the sugar daddy website. not when you invite him in for a nightcap, letting your bare legs rest on top of his while watching a movie.

he. doesn't. touch.

simon doesn't touch you even when you want him to.

keeps his right hand curled around the glass he's nursing and the other laying on the backrest of the couch when you tell him if he wants to peel off the undergarments he'd just bought you today. (a shot you don't shoot is a shot missed anyway.)

"'s not necessary," he says. "got 'em for you to wear." he hasn't taken his eyes off the screen once.

that'd sting more if you hadn't caught him discreetly palming himself outside his trousers while you'd modeled these too.

"might not be necessary but it's what i want." that gets his attention, an arrogant curl on his lip making your heart flutter in your chest.

he gives your knee a squeeze. "i've always given you everythin' you've ever wanted but this is the one thing you're gonna 'ave to work for."

work for? simon doesn't wait for you to ask what he means.

"only way i'm touchin' ya is if ya beg," he rumbles.

should've known it was too good to be true. but you've got an ache between your legs that won't go away no matter how many times you've used the rose (also another gift.) guess you'll just have to "beg".

your definition of begging and his are not even in the same dimension. he had shot you down when you'd said please. when you'd batted your pretty eyes at him while saying please. when you'd gotten on your knees between his legs and said please with your hands flat on the carpet.-

simon had only tapped you on the nose and said, "'s good, but not good enough."

what had been good enough was you riding his thigh until sweat slicked your skin, until your lip trembled with need, until his trousers looked like he'd spilled his drink on it while you mewled out your please's.

only then had wiped the corner of your eyes with his thumb and whispered tiny words of praise into your ear, his breath warm against it.

"wasn't so hard, was it, pet?" you'd been beyond reason at that point, core burning almost painfully hot with desire, so you'd jerkily shaken your head. anything to finally get him to touch you like how you need.

his long fingers splayed out across the back of your head, palm almost engulfing your entire head. "now tell me where you want me to touch."

he touches with clever fingers, his warm tongue, even uses his crooked nose to rub at your pearl while his thumb, spit slick, presses into the girl of your arse. having him fuck you is a whole different beast you have to tackle. if you plead for something, anything, he'll rut his cock between your thighs and come over your sticky pussy :)

#he makes sex extra hard but your bank account has never had so many zeroes so is it really a loss?#now you're the one begging for it and all he'd wanted was some pretty doll to adorn his tree trunk like arm #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader

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globalrebrand · 1 month ago

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How long do you think it would take the reader to actually fall in love with Capitano because they're in an arranged marriage? And the other way around

Starting with Capitano!

Capitano will always uphold the values of marriage and will be a model husband. He is an a generous yet pragmatic provider. Capitano will not spoil you, but he will ensure what you have is more than adequate for your needs. However, above all, Capitano is honest and loyal, he will never lie or attempt to deceive you.

At first this ideal husband behavior is more so because he respects the institution of marriage very highly and not necessarily because of who you are, though Capitano makes an effort to get to know you. He questions you about your habits and hobbies and after a while will think about how to cater to them.

Capitano actually has rather high expectations of his spouse. I imagine Capitano was pushed to marry due to his status and position, so he will want a partner who is independent, intelligent and dutiful. He will expect the same level of respect in the union that he is giving to you. The irony is that while he picked these characteristics to get a lover who will not disturb him, Capitano is deeply attracted to diligent, mindful and clever individuals. So as the reader demonstrates these traits, Capitano begins to fall in love with them, but due to their independent nature they aren't be the most receptive to the ways in which Capitano shows love, namely by being over protective and insisting on doing everything together. He's home so seldom that what little free time he has he would prefer to spend with his spouse. This becomes especially apparent the longer you two are together.

As detailed above, Capitano possesses many admirable traits which on paper make him easy to fall for, however this ignores his blunt, keen and sometimes prideful nature which depending on who you are, could rub you the wrong way at first.

He is an acute observer even without you detailing the quotidian goings on of your daily life, Capitano will start to notice and comment. He isn't necessarily critiquing, just seeing and noting. He will casually tell you about yourself which can be incredibly jarring at first, especially if you're unused to being seen by the people in your life. However...when it comes to himself, he doesn't freely offer information which can be frustrating. He wants to expose all of your inner workings, but is very selective when divulging his own. He begins to share more freely when you earn his trust, which builds slower than his actual affections for you. Capitano will come to love you before he fully trusts you. It's just the nature of the fatui that make him so suspicious and not necessarily you. He wants to trust you but years in his position have made it difficult for him to lower his guard.

Basically, Capitano appreciates a partner who is brave, self-sufficent and above all loyal. Devote yourself to him and Capitano will find his feelings changing rather soon into your union. Ultimately it takes maybe 2-3 months for Capitano to fall for the reader.

The reader in A Lady's Secret is incredibly independent and self-sufficient young woman from a modest background who knows what she wants and doesn't require Capitano's support. She is principled, hardworking, and doesn't meddle in Capitano's affairs. In fact she develops a pretty well rounded life outside of their marriage. She has season tickets to the ballet, successfully convinces Capitano to let her have two dogs (large thick furred beasts who can easily takedown wolves) and walks them around the forest to visit their distant neighbors when the winds aren't too cold.

The reader does these activities alone because she assumes that Capitano wouldn't want to join her but when he quietly questions why she doesn't invite him she starts to incorporate him into these activities. Not all of them. Capitano has no interest in visiting the neighbors, but he can be convinced to attend a quiet night at the ballet and walk the dogs in the forest. And the reader while initially worried she'd find that his company dulled her experiences, is delighted to realize that she actually prefers his accompaniment.

They definitely butted heads in the beginning when Capitano demanded that she inform him every time she left the house. She wasn't too keen on her whereabouts being surveilled, as she was used to coming and going as she pleased. Initially he was more flexible about these things but as he began to get attached he assigned her a personal body guard which had her really annoyed with him. This led to an argument where she called "smothering" and he called her "stubborn."

The difficult part for the reader early on is that she's intensely attracted to Capitano so she starts the sexual part of their relationship right away, but her feelings for him are slower to crystalize and Capitano uses this to his advantage. When you're still arguing with him about a security detail, he'll be withholding until you agree to his terms.

For someone as independent as the reader she struggles with Capitano's desire for control over her. He's not possessive per se but he is very very over protective and unfortunately due to his position he has every right to be. She just resents that she doesn't quite feel like his equal when he frets over her like this.

However, as she comes to appreciate his company, she is more permissive of Capitano's particular brand of affection which is demonstrated through ensuring her safety. Once the reader learns to appreciate Capitano's brand of care she falls for him. He is a supportive partner and an excellent listener. He is stoic and gruff but she knows from his actions that he cares for her deeply. I would say it takes the reader about 5-7 months to reciprocate his feelings in earnest.

#capitano x reader #genshin capitano #capitano #il capitano #capitano genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

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phantom-howl · 3 months ago

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@a-scary-lack-of-common-sense made a Gravity Falls au (the HWINEBHABWNAJCAHOWEEATOWEUB au and yes that's the short form of the au title lol) that I really like the concept of. Hopefully I didn't break logic or anything but wrote it a small little oneshot. Enjoy ^^

Bill blinked, slightly disoriented. He always felt disoriented when someone summoned him. You would too if you ever experienced it. It's like being pulled through a vacuum, but with less wind and more spinny.

He looked around. He was in someone's shadow. No, not someone, something. The thing seemed to be the shadow of a large pine tree. While a plant's shadow wasn't the preferred option, he did rather like being a tall shadow.

Bill looked directly beside him. One of Ford's great grand kids was there. He hadn't known them long enough to be able to tell the difference. "Dipper and Mabel are their names" he'd been reminded by Ford several times.

This one had short hair, most of it tucked underneath a baseball cap. The child wasn't looking at Bill, but rather something in the distance. Bill could make out that it was some kind of beast with horns and a lot of hair. He looked back at the kid.

"Hey kid, what'd you need me for?" Bill asked, watching the kid's eyes snap from the beast to him.

"Help," the word was barely above a whisper. Fear grew in the kid's eyes as they darted between Bill and the beast.

"I dunno what you want me to do kid. Can't exactly do a lot as a shadow," Bill shrugged. The beast approached. He saw the kid produce a pen from the jacket he was wearing. It was one of those pens he'd seen Ford using while writing his journals. Ford must've given one to the kid.

Checking over their shoulder constantly the kid clicked the pen on and started carving directly into the tree Bill was borrowing the shadow of. Suddenly, he felt disoriented again. He gathered his barings to see the kid had carved an eye into the pine tree.

He could also feel everything the tree felt. The fact several branches were ready to snap, that one woodpecker nest, the beehive further upwards, the snapped root several miles underground. It was overwhelming but he got adjusted fairly quickly.

Bill looked back over at the beast, of which he got a better view of now. It looked like a minotaur. He'd seen his fair share on Earth, but he didn't know they lived this far west. No matter, it looked fairly stupid.

He felt the kid hide behind the tree. Probably for the best. After all, if he hurt Ford's kids he'd never hear the end of it.

The minotaur got closer and closer. Bill had a deviously gleeful look in his eye as the beast finally was within reach. With a satisfying snap, one of the branches of the tree fell off and hit the minotaur's head. It went down.

"Okay run kid," Bill said but the kid seemed frozen in place, staring at the tattooed minotaur.

"Are you waiting for an invitation?" the kid dug out a small notebook, quickly scribbling something down with the pen, before running off. Bill didn't bother to try and figure out what that meant. The kid was probably like Ford. He seemed to share the same chaotic scientist energy, even if the kid was more subdued.

Least now he had an experience with one of the kids kinda properly. The "Pine Tree Incident" as he decided to call it.

—

"Hey Pine Tree, other one," Bill waved to the kids through the small artist model Ford had summoned him to.

"Pine Tree?" the two asked, all three humans confused.

"I gotta have some kind of way to tell you two apart until I can remember who's who," Bill laughed. Pine Tree slapped his face with his palm and the other one laughed with Bill.

#neo is rambling again #gravity falls #neo writes #dipper pines #bill cipher #hwinebhabwnajcahoweeatoweub au #mabel pines

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smokesandsonatas · 3 months ago

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Broke mc and the rich night raven college bois! Would they spoil the mc or would they let mc struggle, delighted in doing so 👀

+++ After a long time, I'm finally starting to answer requests. I tend to combine similar asks, I hope people don't mind.

OnlyCams (Twst version of OnlyFans) Reader x All NRC students and Rollo. Reader is implied to be female. Mentions of cleavage, lingerie, and implied sugar daddy stuff. Slightly NSFW. +++

Update: Part II

Your current financial situation, compounded by the need to eat proper meals, pushed you to find a side job. Crowley had cut your budget by more than half, citing Grim's damages—an accusation your companion vehemently denies—as the reason you're struggling to eat properly. It has reached the point where you only eat once a day to quickly pay off Grim's fees to the school. Your pride is too great to ask for help, and besides, you don’t consider them ‘close friends’—acquaintances from another world might be a more accurate term. You’re not particularly close to any of the boys, or rather, your schoolmates. They are just that: schoolmates.

You tried applying at Mostro Lounge but left quickly after your gut told you to. In a foreign world where monsters, beasts, mermen, and magic are the norm, your instincts are your only trusted guide.

The rules of this world shouldn’t and wouldn’t apply to you the same way, right? Whatever society imposes on them is not applicable to you. In your world, this type of job is common, though frowned upon, but it pays well.

You refuse to eat cobwebs from the dusty ceiling of the ramshackle dorm.

In your mind, you plead for privacy as you smile at the ghosts, asking them not to bother you while you rest—just as Grim has been doing for the past two hours. Fortunately, the ghosts heed your request.

You let out a soft hum as you change into a flimsy outfit: a cute two-piece lingerie with bows in the middle, and bat earrings from one of your highest-tier subscribers. While you only show skin rather than specific body parts, your effort in producing high-quality content led to you being featured as one of the emerging models more than two weeks ago. Now, you are close to paying off Grim's full debt, and you have saved enough to afford full meals twice a day with snacks in between. As a result, Grim is much more obedient, promising to be careful as long as you continue to feed him, of course.

You have a keen eye for beauty, after all.

You count silently as you pose for the camera—an alluring sight, sensual in your pose, a work of art in every sense.

3...2...1

Snap!

+++++

He first heard the rumors from the members of the Heartslabyul dorm. As the dorm leader, Riddle is keen to know what currently preoccupies the thoughts of his card soldiers. That’s how Riddle found you—by threatening to cut off the head of one of the freshmen, who nearly pissed himself as Riddle stood seething. That incident occurred a week ago. Riddle is never one to indulge in such perverse photos, despite what his highest-tier subscription might suggest. No, he is a gentleman after all. His favorite photo is the one where you’re wearing a red silk robe that clings to your figure, with a book pressed between your two mounds. He may or may not have specifically requested that photo, and he paid you generously for your work.

Of course, he knows you have one! Cater is the self-proclaimed king of Magicam and social media, after all. The OnlyCams platform is an emerging phenomenon that has taken Magicam by storm. You just happened to get on it at the right time, and Cater couldn’t help but respect the hustle. You’re now an emerging content creator, and his favorite photos of you are saved on his phone—essentially everything. Oh, what’s that? He can’t do it because it’s prohibited? Of course, Cater can! He has been your faithful subscriber from day one.

Oh sevens, when Trey saw your sweet bakery-themed photos he will not deny that he relieved himself more than once. You keep on releasing new mouth-salivating content every other day but that still stands as his favourite. He especially loved the one where you put whipped cream to cover your nipples. What? Trey is a man and therefore susceptible to temptation.

He will never tell you that he knows, but he has been there since your first post. Ace had been a loyal supporter even from the start, he even took it upon himself to try a few gigs to support you, you know? That's what friends do right? Just don't blame Ace when he uses your pictures to masturbate as he takes his baths.

Deuce cannot believe it, but he cannot take his eyes off it either. Deuce also knows but respects you enough to not bring it up. Why didn't you told him you have perfect thighs? He is pouty but as he works his hands below his pants he cannot help but bite his lower lip. This is the third time he masturbated on your picture. His favorite? A picture of you laying down as you wink cheekily in a 'Japanese' uniform, the short skirt hiked over your thighs. The caption says it reminds you of your place back home, Deuce briefly wonders if you would let him visit to see that uniform personally on you.

....

Leona doesn't give a fuck, his thick cock out as he works his hands up and down his shaft lazily in his bedroom. You've been a very cheeky herbivore. Ha! Leona didn't realize how much of an ass beastman he is not until he raised an eyebrow as he smirked when he realized all his favorites are the ones where it focuses on your ass. He likes it when you squeeze them. Leona wonders if he should send you a message for a special offer, the price won't matter to him. What? Breeding season will come soon for the beastman, he will have no other partner than you.

He admires your skills to hustle, Ruggie could not help but sneakily have his account opened through Leona's bank, it's not like the rich prince will notice it billing him anyway. Once he opens your highest-tier content, Ruggie now understands why. You're a complete pro at this! He is not sure if this is your previous job in your world or if this is your first time doing it at all, but those thoughts have escaped him when he fucks himself into his hand in the picture of you spreading your ass cheeks.

Jack had heard about the site from the other track team members, out of curiosity, he opened an account and was surprised when he got your account in his recommendation. He will support you of course! That's what friends do! He will try to contain himself when he unlocks your content of you wearing skimpy track shorts but it's impossible as he felt himself tightening through his pajamas.

...

Azul had never heard of this website before, but dear sevens! The possibilities are endless. Pleasure work is not unheard of in the Coral Sea, but he now knows they do it differently on land. It's called porn, as far as he remembers when he picked up the word from one of the guidebooks in the Sage Island. When he realizes at first glance that you will be one of its top creators—the money will come pouring right in! Azul chuckles to himself, restraining his excitement as he bites his lower lip while staring at your latest update. The thought of being your manager crosses his mind as he gazes at your picture of spreading your legs open, the flimsy thong left so little to the imagination. Will you let him manage you? Will you allow him to experience what he sees? Perhaps you’ll seek out a partner for a collaboration, and Azul will be eager to present himself. Of course, he will refrain from showing his face—he still has a reputation to uphold—but he cannot deny that you are his guilty pleasure in this realm.

Floyd is addicted to your content! How dare Shrimpy make him so excited every day? For almost two weeks now, Floyd has been happily completing tasks assigned to him at the Mostro Lounge. Sure, he pockets some tips for himself, but fear not! Floyd thinks he deserves it. Besides, they ought to reward him for his extra hard work. Floyd giggles when he sees a notification that you've posted a new update. One of these days, he will come to see you personally—only if Jade isn’t holding him back. After all, if left unchecked, Floyd just might take you deep into the coral sea.

Jade, on the other hand, is constantly watching you—or so you thought. At lunch, in the hallway, even in the library when you’re trying to study with Grim. You can feel his eyes piercing through your soul, but for some reason, you can never quite meet his gaze. Or maybe, you’re trying to catch him staring at you just to justify your suspicions, but when you look, he’s not. Unbeknownst to you, Jade is just as giddy as his twin brother. Don’t blame him! He adores the picture where you’re actually wearing the seashell necklace he sent through your fanmail. Oh, but wait—one moment it dawns on him that others, who pay to see your pictures, will also see that picture. Hmm… that doesn’t sit right with the eel. Jade wonders if he can offer you something more. Of course, he can! The only problem is... will you accept Jade Leech's offer? Hmm…

...

Jamil heard from Kalim that you have a business they need to support, Jamil didn't even complain when all Kalim sent was a link. He was hooked since then. He is a silent supporter but will be one of the first to view and like your posts. You wore red lingerie once, and Jamil can't even stop himself from coming from that. A good stress reliever after a tiring day's work. The veins in his hands practically popping, as he grip his cock, imagining you in front of him instead.

Kalim will support you of course! Although he is quite confused why you won't accept the money he's sending you. It's just a half a million madol. It's not a dowry!... At least not close to the actual amount he will give you anyway. He will support you! He even told Jamil about you! Doesn't he get jealous? A little.. but the feeling of an overwhelming bragging right that other people thirst over you makes Kalim so proud. He chose a good future wife after all!

...

To Vil, your content is vile... but undeniably a work of art. Hmph, no wonder you're one of its top creators. You don't merely post for lust; you post for aesthetics as well. You have a keen eye for taking good photos, that much he will admit. His subscription to you he considers a form of appreciation for beauty. He notes the way you do your makeup, the arch of your back, the way your lipstick complements your complexion... Fine, Vil will hate to admit it, but your content is something he looks forward to seeing as he relaxes after a hectic day—just him alone in a fancy room with a spa-like scent filling the air. Hmmm, he wonders if he should invite you someday to a hotel soirée with him. Vil appreciates the attention to detail in your work, and he finds himself compelled to support you further. Occasionally, he sends additional tips usually a thousand madol—small tokens of his admiration for your craftsmanship. He justifies it as an investment in art, a reward for the way you meticulously craft each image and video. After all, beauty like yours deserves to be recognized, encouraged even.

He will always blush when he's near you! Epel can't help it. He may or may not have teenage fantasies about you with him carrying you bridal style as his muscles bulge from his shirt. Although Epel came from a... Traditional family perse, he does appreciate how... sexy you look! His favorite is when you're wearing silk nightwear that delves low on your cleavage.

Ah, Rook. Forever the hunter of beauty. When he heard of your content, he immediately subscribed to the highest tier! He is now only waiting for you to accept personal requests because Rook definitely has a lot of ideas in his mind. It involves you and him, in a forest, being one with yourselves and with nature! Oui! He chuckles as he palms his crotch through his pants. Rook knows that you will post something new in a few minutes, and he is right! Oh, mi amor, Rook swooned as he saw your bat earrings from the new update and the matching pink bows lingerie. The lingerie he ordered is yet to be sent to you! But they're on their way. Will you be mad at Rook if he sends an arrow with a declaration of admiration through your window right after he pleasures himself? Rook hopes you will know how much the hunter loves and appreciates your beauty!

....

Idia may or may not be one of the software developers behind OnlyCams. He was absolutely stunned when he saw that you joined the site! His hair burned a hot red with pink tips as he scrolled through your draft photos. It gives him a twisted sense of satisfaction to know about posts that others haven’t seen yet. Is it illegal to pry... or, erm, stalk the OnlyCams models? Of course, he knows that. But Idia has convinced himself that he should act as your moderator anyway—even without you knowing. Unfortunately, there are a lot of comments and private messages that are downright disgusting to read, so Idia takes it upon himself to remove them for you! The maid outfit and cat ears he sent through your fanmail should arrive in just a few days. Idia can’t wait to see you in them! He imagines how perfect you’ll look, and his mind races with ideas for what else he could send your way. Maybe a little something extra, just to make sure you know how much he’s been thinking about you.

...

At first, Malleus does not know what to feel. Initially, there is confusion—are you whoring yourself out? But Lilia explains that people can only look at you, not physically touch you. However, when it dawns on Malleus that others can see your intimate, seductive photos, flames flicker along his fangs. He carries the pride of a king, and it does not sit well with him that others can see what he considers his. Still, Malleus can't help but growl. Your pictures should have been for his eyes only. He frowns, deciding that even Lilia should not see them. You don’t know this, but you’re already his. In his mind, you belong to him. Annoyance courses through his veins—this is the second time he’s broken a phone today. As night falls, Malleus finds himself brooding in the solitude of his tower. The thought of you, your image laid bare for others, festers in his mind. He clenches his fist, struggling with a mix of possessiveness and anger. Lilia suggested he could unsubscribe from you, but Malleus ignores him. Instead, he contemplates offering you wealth and power—if you choose to be by his side, of course. As if you have a choice anyway.

Sebek is embarrassed, yet hypocritical, as he can't help but masturbate to your seductive content. Part of him hates it, but the other part loves it. How dare you, human! He huffs as he angrily shuts off his phone, only to turn it back on moments later, unable to resist the allure of your pictures. On one hand, he feels disgusted with himself for succumbing to such base desires—he is a proud servant of Malleus, and he should not be indulging in such... human weakness. It's an insult to his Fae heritage! But on the other hand, he is irresistibly drawn to you, his body betraying his thoughts every time he sees your updates. The internal battle rages on, but he knows deep down that he’s hooked.

Lilia hums to himself, elated as he chuckles upon seeing your new update. Lilia has had his fair share of intimacy throughout the hundreds of years he's been alive. The concept of seduction as a barter is nothing new to him. But! Lilia can’t help but admire the way the new generation goes about it nowadays! Back in his time, Lilia had to travel to a brothel for such experiences. Now, he can just use his phone from anywhere. Yet, a small part of him is disappointed that you’re not physically present. He grins, his fangs poking out as he sees you wearing the bat earrings he sent you. Ah, they suit you so well!

Silver is ever the gentleman, probably the only one in Diasomnia—the whole NRC, who can separate the ordinary You and the OnlyCam's You. You never told him but you appreciate his approach a lot. He is subscribed to your highest tier and he always gives you tips that he got from his allowance and payment as Malleus' guard. Silver’s support goes beyond mere admiration. He views your content with a sense of quiet respect, understanding that there’s more to it than just the seduction part you're selling. For him, it's about the effort, the confidence, and the creativity you put into your work. Despite the nature of your content, Silver’s feelings remain pure. He never asks for anything in return for his support, never expects special treatment. When he leaves a tip, it’s with the hope that it might make your day a little brighter, that it might help you feel appreciated in a world you're alienated to. He is a knight, well suited to protect you should you ask him to.

....

Rollo feels as though he's sinning every time he opens your OnlyCams account—blasphemous content! His heart pounds with guilt and shame as he scrolls through your seductive photos, each one a temptation pulling him deeper into the abyss. He knows this is wrong—so wrong—yet he cannot tear himself away. The purity and righteousness he prides himself on crumble under the weight of his desire for you. He mentally recites prayers, trying to cleanse himself of the impure thoughts that flood his mind, but it’s futile. The more he resists, the stronger the urge becomes. Despite the shame that burns his conscience, Rollo keeps coming back for more, drawn to the very thing he despises. Trapped in a cycle of sin and repentance, he battles with his inner demons, torn between his devotion to his beliefs and his growing obsession with you.

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luffyvace · 7 months ago

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Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons

These are sfw and gender neutral

for Sanji’s big day! (I’m super late ik hush :3)

pt2 here my sillies :3 : Dating ~ Sanji Vinsmoke ~ headcanons pt2

Dating Sanji includes royal treatment. We all know this. It’s so obvious. 😭 It’s in the manga, it’s canon, we all write it in our headcanons. We know this.

Royal treatment meaning sit back and relax dear, Sanji’s got this. Sea beast? He beat it up and is now cooking a delicious and nutritious sea beast stew for you, would you like that with a smoothie? Lemonade? Water? Ok water. Sparkling? Distilled? Iced?

oh your lost? Don’t worry he’s got bread and he’ll leave breadcrumbs where you’ve walked so you don’t go in circles :)

your clothes are wet? Take his. 💋

there’s mud up ahead and you just bought a snazzy new fit? He’ll carry you 🏋️‍♂️

somebody bothering you loveliest? He’s already kicked them to Australia (extra hard if it was Zoro)

Dating Sanji includes good communication.

If you feel anything but a positive emotion Sanji is on the case. And the first victim he’s pointing fingers at is Zoro 😼

”MOSS HEAD BASTARD!! YOU MADE THEM UPSET DIDNT YOU?!”

it’s not a person darling? Well what happened? What can he do to help? Did you loose something? He’ll turn into a mad man causing chaos around town looking for it! Did it drop into the ocean? He swims as deep as he needs to in order to find it.

Honestly he even babies you about little stuff :P you stubbed your toe? Want him to massage it for you? That’s it! He’s breaking out the foot spa! Take off your socks and shoes!

he did something that really upset you?! Tell him what it is right away! He’ll make sure he never steps outta line ever again! He *kiss* never *kiss* meant *kiss* to *kiss* upset *kiss* you *kiss*~

Never feel hesitation to tell him if something’s wrong with you physically “Chopper! Come check them out right now!! They say somethings’ wrong!”

Nor mentally! You’ve been going through some tough times these last few months?! Sit down and tell him everything!! Let’s get to the root of this! Together! Is it someone else?? Did it happen from something??

Even if you aren’t feeling negative emotions right now always feel free to rant to him about what’s making you happy! he’d love to hear it truly! He loves your voice even more~ 🥰 *nose bleed*

Dating Sanji includes 5 star meals.

another thing we all know. And in every headcanon- but seriously what’s all your favorite meals, snacks and desserts? Even if Luffy himself says to make one thing he might make another just because he knows you like it. That guy eats anything anyway so he might as well just make what you like! 🧑‍🍳

Dating Sanji includes overly cheesy confessions despite the fact that your already and only dating.

”My dearest..I would love if you would go out with me and make this evening the loveliest of my days! I’d wholeheartedly accept and put my all into cooking for our first date….My love and affection with herb and spice…the flavor of our intense compatibility will melt on your tongue every bite you take! Guaranteed!”

”Sanji….we’ve been dating for xyz months/years now..”

”ahhh~ Even to the blossoms of this beautiful spring day know we’re simply destined to be..! Getting married tomorrow..it’s been my dream since we’ve first met! I can see it already, smell it even..! The enchanting scene of you walking down the isle, putting your hands in mine…kiss! The happiest day of my life has officially been sealed! Everyone’s clapping! Cheering! Whoop woo’s arise in the air of our love!~ The 6 layer cake I spent every ounce of my time baking since I met you, on the side of us—predicting our perfect wedding kiss! An exact model of the scene~ It brings a tear to my eye! I hope I don’t keep you up tonight, my darling love! Because I certainly won’t be able to sleep when I’m much too busy imagining the scene over and over again until our big day tomorrow, the same one I’ve been replaying in my head since I first laid eyes on you~ 😚”

”what on EARTH Sanji. We’re only dating! Wha- What do I even say to this?!”

”you could say yes! My lovely future spouse!~ 😍😍”

”To what! You haven’t even properly proposed to me yet?! Let alone made it official⁉️“

”ohh my honey! I didn’t know you wanted to get married- the wind! The sea! The birds even know our fate! We-“

”ALRIGHT!”

”SHUT IT SEAWEED HEAD!! DON’T INTERUPT ME WHILE IM CONFESSING MY LOVE to the most wonderful soul to have ever lived~”

⚔️🗡🔥💥💥💥⚔️🗡🔥💥⚔️🗡💥💥🔥

(Sanji and zoro fighting :3)

Dating Sanji includes sure fire protection.

no one will ever lay a hand on you. For a man? Self explanatory. Blast that motha sucka to space.💥 For a woman?? Welll…he’ll take all the hits for you okay?! So run away and go get Nami or Robin!! Hurry darling!

Dating Sanji includes trust.

more than anything he trusts you with his deepest darkest secrets. There’s no front when it’s just you two around, purely him. Not telling you his lineage was because he wanted to put that behind him..it wasn’t supposed to come back up. And man is he the most sorry sucker on earth when he betrays the strawhats. Because that means he’s betraying you. Pleasepleasepleasetakehimbackplease.

Uh guys I ran out of characters I’m gonna do a part two I guess 😭… I didn’t want to thooo

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jojikawa · 3 months ago

Text

Beauty and the Beast

art by ilameys

-Part One-

⚠️: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT ♥ Manhandling, Slight body horror descriptions, descriptions of blood, himbo!doppelgänger!Francis Mosses, Yandere Behavior, Mentions of Stalking, sexualization of the female MC by Fake Francis, double SMUT(CNC and consensual separately =), and monster cock, Shibari

I write for free, but if you wanna further support me > Ko-Fi 🎀

Care for typos!

Francis decided he wanted to take things slow with you. He heard through the grapevine that your encounter with a doppelgänger was more than just a simple attack. He heard that it had violated you. Now you were being moderated by the D.D.D. It wasn’t his fault but he still felt bad and used those feelings of guilt to be good to you.

The man was kind enough to take you to the local dress store so that you could pick out something new as a gift from him. You were worried that your incident with the doppelgänger would make you less desirable to Francis. At some point, you’d have to tell him that the creature took the form of him.

“Here, let me.”

You felt the presence of a large man behind you. He tugged the back of your dress, straightening it so that he could zip up the new dress. You couldn’t help but blush at the contact. This is the closest the two of you had ever been. Years went by, and you could only meet him at your door or neighborhood events. Now, he was in your dressing room, touching your body.

Wait—touching your body…?

You felt his hand lingering on your back, slowly traveling lower and lower…

“Excuse me~!” You whipped around to face him. He was as red as a tomato with a surprised look. “You haven’t even gotten me a drink yet!” You joked cutely. It wasn’t common for a woman to be forward the way you were, but you often got away with a lot of things because of your pretty privilege.

“S-Sorry, I was just straightening the fabric.” His rather deep voice was quite adorable when he was flushed. Your grin widened. It felt best to help him move things along…just a bit.

You stepped closer to him, grabbing both of his arms and ushering him to place them on your waist. He obeyed, wrapping his large hands around your midsection and pulling you closer.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” You brought your bodies close enough to touch. Francis didn’t say a word. You could tell that he was rather shy, but he didn’t seem to be rejecting you.

You stood on your toes to place a kiss on his lips. His hands traveled from your waist to your ass, lifting you so that you wouldn’t need to try as hard to reach him. The contact made you gasp and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You moaned at how aggressive he was, your voice sending blood rushing to his cock. You immediately felt him grow and his hard dick brushed against your leg. Your thigh touched it, causing him to react even more to the situation.

Francis let go of you and broke away from the kiss. “Not here.” He said, quickly remembering that the two of you were in a public dressing room.

At first, you were confused but your face quickly lit up when you realized what was about to happen.

The milkman took you by your hand, leading you out of the clothing store and bringing you to his car. You didn’t acknowledge it earlier, but he had a newer model. Perhaps, being a milkman paid well.

Just a month ago, you had felt as if you had no chance with this man. You thought that despite being the ideal woman a man desired, you simply weren’t his type. It got to a point where you felt as though you were bland. Men were easy to you. Always. When they saw how pretty you were, they’d easily fold and become easy to read but because everything was so easy, reading a man like Francis was hard.

But here you were, straddling him in the driver's seat of his car. The man was pretty timid but he knew what he wanted and he wanted you.

You ground your pussy on his bulge. You bit your lip and hummed at the sensation. You wanted to look as attractive as possible and your panties quickly became wet. Although he was hungry, he was really gentle. He left wet kisses on your collarbone, going up to your neck and face. His hands tugged at the thin fabric of your dress, threatening to tear it if he were too rough.

Your nipples hardened and you squeezed your eyes shut. Words couldn’t describe how happy you were right now. All the pining paid off. But it was just more than sex. The marks and bruises left by Franz were still there and Francis didn’t think any less of you. He still loved you all the same. Such traits are rare among men these days.

You felt his hand slip under your dress. His fingers grazed themselves over your damp fabric.

Snap!

“F-Francis?” You ceased your movements and looked him in the eye. Your face was hot with pleasure and embarrassment. He looked somewhat surprised as well. “I-I’ll buy you new ones.”

He used his strength to tear the fabric of your bottoms under your dress. His forwardness took you aback but it turned you on even more. His being quite unsure of himself only added to his attractiveness. It made you want to guide him.

“Of course,” You licked your lips. “And I want a new pair of shoes as well.” You chirped, happily. Your hands were already resting on his chest. They traveled down and you made the mental note that you hadn’t seen him in anything else but his work clothes until today…but he still decided to wear a white T-shirt. White suited him well.

Your free hand tugged at his trousers. You were ready to finally have him. “Are you sure?” You heard him say with uncertainty but his actions communicated otherwise. He helped you free his cock from his pants. You didn’t know why but you thought of Franz and how big he was. You were grateful that Francis has a normal size—no, above average size.

His tip was shiny with precum, it was already smeared on the abdomen of your newly purchased dress.

“I am sure.” You reassured him. “If you want, I can lead.” You offered. You felt him squirm beneath you. How long has it been since he was with a woman?

He shook his head. “No, it’s fine.” He told you. “I just don’t want to mess this up.” His face was as red as a tomato and his eyes were filled with lust. Your face grew warmer. He could be so hot without trying. You eased yourself and allowed him to take control.

You felt Francis’ hand creep up behind your neck while the other subtly slipped up your dress. You didn’t even know until you felt his palm and fingers gripping your plump ass cheek. Upon taking you in his hand, he bit his lip, jiggling your ass meekly. His cock pulsated and leaked from the tip due to his actions. You blushed too, your panties getting wet from being touched in such a way.

“F-Francis—Mmm…” His large hand guided you down to his lips, silencing you in the prettiest way. His kisses were short and hurried, it seemed like he was more concerned at feeling you up from the back. In the midst of it all, he pulled and tugged at your bottoms until he was able to pull them to the side. You grabbed his dick and pushed it between your lips. You almost jumped when you felt his warm tip in your folds.

“Mm!” You tried to pull away but his grasp on the back of your neck wouldn’t let you move as freely as you desired. His tongue forced its way inside, exploring the warm, wet cavern that was your mouth. You have no idea how many times he’s imagined doing this to you. A part of Francis thought that this was a dream. One that he didn’t want to wake up from.

When Francis pulled away, you saw how his breath hitched. His skin flushed red while he huffed for air because of all the kissing.

His hand moved from the back of your neck to your hips. He liked the way you felt on top of him. Your sexes were so close that he could probably slip his dick inside without you even realizing it at first.

“(y/n), let me put it inside.” He muttered, lowly. It almost made you laugh. Was he still asking for consent this far in? What a gentleman. “Franci—“ You opened your mouth to speak but his muttering continued.

“Please, please please, let me put it in. I want to feel you.”

Your abdomen burned with delight. You never thought you’d be able to get Francis of all people to beg to fuck you. Having his attention made you feel sexy.

“Of course, my love.” You smiled attractively before having your pelvis brutally slammed down on his cock. The way he entered you was so perfect. He was just the right size for you.

You began to take part with him, moving your hips on his groin as best as you could. All he could do was moan your name, not caring that at any moment someone could hear him and know exactly what you were doing to him.

“Franc–ah!” You pleasured yourself on his cock and you could feel yourself heating up. Your juices mixed, causing the slick to drip from inside of you onto his pelvis. It was so close to getting on his clothes.

“Mmm.” You hummed in delight. “Just like that.”

At that moment, it felt like the two of you were perfect for each other. You couldn’t believe how reserved he always was with you and it was so much to the point where you didn’t even think he liked you. Now, here he was, fucking into you like a dog in heat, moaning your name like the two of you weren’t still in public. The riskiness made things so much better!

“Fuck, I’m gonna c-cum, sweetheart!” His voice was so delightful! The way he squirmed underneath you was so satisfying.

“Go on then~ Cum for me.” You leaned forward so that your torsos touched. Your nose brushed his and his warm breath hit your face. “Just make sure to pull—”

A rush of his liquid filled you up and painted your walls.

Out.

In one large motion, Francis slammed into you, forcing you to stay on his cock whether you wanted to or not. A warm feeling filled your hole so much that it leaked from your womb, down his shaft, and onto both of your clothes. It made you climax as well. You rode your high and tried to push yourself off of him to get him to pull out but your legs were too weak from the sexual activity.

The next few minutes that followed were awkward, to say the least.

You were sitting in the passenger seat of his car again, feeling the leftover cum pooling inside of your panties. You hadn’t spoken a word since the two of you finished but you could tell that Francis was getting a bit antsy.

You had occupied yourself by looking out the window as he drove. Through the reflection, you could see him glance at you from time to time as if he wanted to speak but was too nervous to.

The two of you were almost at your apartment when he finally gained the courage to address the elephant in the room.

“I-I’m sorry for, uh, finishing inside of you like that.” He muttered quickly. You raise your hands slightly. “Oh no! It was just a heat of the moment thing, I understand—“

“If you get p-pregnant, you know, I can provide for you…”

Your heart clenched. You’d hate for your motherhood to begin because of some split-second decision to have sex but you’ve been pining after Francis for the better part of a few years.

The car came to a slow and what awaited to the side of you was your apartment complex. You only blinked, a delayed response just on the tip of your tongue. How would you be able to tell him that you could already be pregnant…?

“…I’d like that very much.” A subtle blush warmed your cheeks. Your brain made you feel better by imagining what it would be like to start a family with him. He was a father of one already so he should be familiar with being a husband and parent.

Your expression caused him to blush as well. You felt like a teenager again, doing risky things like sex in a car with your long-time crush.

Francis informed you that he had planned to take his daughter and some of her friends from school to the carnival. You wished that you could’ve accompanied him but it might’ve been too awkward with the daughter of his ex-wife.

Upon exchanging a kiss goodbye, you exited his vehicle and went to check yourself in so that you could rest. The new attendant was a young man that you hadn’t seen before. He seems to enjoy his job regardless. You submitted your paperwork and you were quickly identified as the real deal.

It wasn’t the first time but you couldn’t help but get the looming feeling of being watched every time you had gotten to your door. When you reach for your doorknob, you can still feel the huge figure of Franz standing behind you. It was like you were still experiencing that horrible tragedy…

Even if it felt good.

You mentioned it to your therapist immediately and she just told you that the trauma would linger a while longer since it was so fresh.

You entered your home, quickly making your way to your room to change out of your clothing and freshen up in the bathroom. Post-sex self-care is extremely crucial for a high-value woman like yourself. There was nothing you could do if you were pregnant but cleaning up did make you feel better.

Now, all that was left was to cook yourself dinner and begin planning your next week with Francis.

Yet, those thoughts of happiness left your mind when you caught a glimpse of red in your peripheral vision. You hadn’t noticed it when you came in but now it was painfully obvious that something was terribly wrong.

As you began to approach the doorway that led to your kitchen, you ended up slipping on something wet. The force pulled your legs from under you, causing you to fall on your bottom but before you could actually hit the ground—you were caught.

When you registered what was going on, you saw that your savior had glowing eyes, pale skin, and brown hair. His white attire was covered in a very red substance that made you fall. The irony crimson coated your legs and bare feet. The figure before you was now smearing it on your clothes as well.

“F-Franz…!?”

Your eyes darted downward. His free hand was the one that was able to catch you, it was large and cradled your bottom. But in his other hand was one of your kitchen knives. It dripped with blood and it was fresh too.

Behind him, you caught a glimpse of what he was doing. Your refrigerator was wide open with a trail of blood leading from underneath you to whatever it was that he put inside.

Memories fill your mind of the past, sending you into panic mode. How did he get inside? How has he not been caught? Was he going to ravage you again?

“Wh-What are you doing? Why are you h-here?” You could already feel your eyes welling up with tears at the sight of him. He was already terrifying but in both encounters with him, he killed someone.

“I live here now.”

The knife dropped to the ground with a loud metallic tone and you felt his bloodied hand grip the back of your head. “Where have you been?”

The creature took a deep whiff of your hair. It enjoyed the natural scent of you, even catching a bit of your slick that you washed away. It was faint but still there. Your vaginal juice was so potent that it would know it anywhere.

“I…” Your voice cracked before you could get out another word. You weren’t ready.

“…I-I just went out—“

“Where?”

“It was a local dress shop…”

His strong body enveloped you, picking you up from the spot where you were hovering above the floor. In his arms, he held you as if you were a princess, cradling you by the back of your knees and lower back.

Franz took you away from the kitchen before you could see what he was up to.

“With who? And don’t lie.”

Your eyes went from left to right. “What reason would I have to lie?” You secured your arms around his neck, coyly playing along for the sake of your safety. He might act like he wants you but he is still an it, a Dopple.

“I know what you look like when you lie. I’ve studied you. I can become you...” The corner of his mouth raised into a smirk. “…but I like the taste of you better.”

Your cheeks warmed at his perverseness. You weren’t used to such a handsome man acting this way towards you. It was always the men with no self-care or dignity that would catcall you in the evenings but never someone so…attractive. Would it be wrong to say you felt that wanted?

Could you make Franz behave like a normal man…?

“I was…with a friend.” You answered somewhat nervously, your mind instantly going to your time with Francis. Your pupils shifted and your mouth instinctively curled into a smile. Franz didn’t seem to catch that you were lying. Perhaps, he was bluffing as well to get you to tell the truth. He was somewhat aware of the effect he had on you.

“Hm.” You felt his chest rumble with a hum. He took you to your bedroom where he placed you on your bed.

You gripped the sheets with anticipation. Meeting like this was so odd. He was covered in blood and it made you even more frightened that he refused to elaborate on what he was up to exactly. “Just a friend?” He repeated, leaving the room for only a moment. He didn’t go far as his steps didn’t fade at all. This was the first time you’ve ever felt unsafe in your own home like this.

Moments later, he returned, a thick rope in hand. On his face was a dark look that you recognized all too well, so much so that it triggered your memories of the day he ravaged you.

“Wh-What’s that for?” You questioned.

“You.” He replied.

You blinked. “Me? What—“

“I don’t believe you.”

The two of you stared at each other for a moment. Then he began to get closer. He was planning to tie you up in your room forever, wasn’t he?

“What do you mean?”

His half-smirk turned into a cold line and silent anger washed over his features. His lifeless eyes were fixated on your smaller form, clinging to the bedsheets like a scared little girl. “You see, I don’t believe you.” He answered. You bit your lip in anticipation and fell silent. You thought he’d be gone for good so you were completely unprepared for today. You let him continue as it looked like he had more to say.

“...there’s this thing you do when you lie. You don’t even know that you do it, but I know it.” He grew closer like a predator stalking its prey. The bed sank from the weight of him climbing onto it with you. “And, I can smell him all over you!” His large hand grabbed the back of your head with a fist full of your hair. You cried out as he jerked you around like a ragdoll into whichever position he pleased.

No matter how hard you fought against him, he never budged and you couldn’t stop him from tying the thick rope around your neck and limbs. You struggled, thinking that he was chaining you to your bed but that didn’t seem to be it. His hands bloodied various parts of you. The clothes you just had on before he tore them off of you, more of your hair along with your arms, hips, and ass cheeks.

Your arms were tied behind your back and your legs together so that you could no longer push him away or run. “F-Franz, come on—“

“Shut up!” Franz snarled, silencing you with a loud smack to your ass. It would’ve hurt if it didn’t feel so right. You felt your head being pushed into the mattress as a warm, thick, fleshy, hard object rubbed itself between your thighs. The contact made of his pulsating shaft was soon slick in your juices. Its potent smell of femininity made him feel like he wouldn’t be able to control himself any longer.

His mouth attached to your behind, right between your cheeks. The wet muscle of his tongue went between your folds before entering your pussy.

“Franz please!” But your cries only fueled his need for your fluids. His slimy monstrous explored your innards, consuming any juices you made just as they produced. The pleasure and roughness were too much. You tried to inch away but it was like his mouth was attached to your backside.

You could tell that he was really into it. He kneaded and fondled your ass to his liking, making sure you felt good to maximize the amount of vaginal fluid that could be made. Like an animal, his salvation dripped and wet the bed and his calloused fingers dug into the soft flesh of your cheeks.

The overstimulation caused you to reach your high so quickly. Before you could even warn him, you squirted all over his face and lips. His growling intensified like he couldn’t get enough, slurping all of your juices. When he was done, he didn’t bother to wipe his mouth. He grabbed the decorative rope that kept you restrained for a sloppy kiss.

“So good.” He muttered on your lips before using his strength to push you on your side. “P-Please, Franz, not so hard this time…” You sputtered out. Your legs were numb from pleasure so all of the movement from this point on was up to you. “Don’t tell me what to do.” His dick slid in between your closed thighs. He gave it a few thrusts before moving to your hole slick with his saliva.

Slowly but surely he pushed himself inside. He relished in the sound of your cries as you struggled to take his size and length, proud that he could say he was the biggest you’ll ever have. No human man could match him in any way, shape, or form. Every stroke sent butterflies to your stomach. The noise filled the hallway outside of your home and you were sure that your neighbors could hear. You felt so embarrassed that you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to endure until it felt like he finished.

But it felt like it went on forever. The inside of your pussy was sloshy and constantly leaking onto the bed but Franz didn’t want to let up. His beautiful body was glistening with sweat after he had removed his top half through his session. His cum shot into your womb and he slumped on top of you.

The sweat, juices, and remnants of blood made you feel icky. You were still tied up and couldn’t move.

“Franz.” You called.

“Franz.”

No answer.

You nudged him a bit. You needed to get cleaned up. Everything was leaking from your holes and your face was a mess from the crying and kissing. “I need to go to the bathroom.” You whined, wiggling beneath him. He was so big and heavy.

Without a word, he rose to free you from the Shibari rope. Once again, your whole body was sore despite being the bottom from how relentlessly he was. You were surprised that he seemed to be somewhat experienced with aftercare. Last time, he left so abruptly, that you felt like he would’ve left you there.

But today was different. He carried you to the bathroom when you needed to go. He helped you clean up and put on some fresh clothes. It saddened you that the new dress Francis got you was now soiled with…everything. But life goes on. Perhaps, you could salvage what was left of the dress. You could hand wash it and use your skill in sewing to repair anything else if needed. You just didn’t know how you’d break the news to Francis that the gift he got you on your date was ruined at the hands of another man sucking and fucking your holes.

Franz seemed to exert himself. He was sprawled out on your bed while you just stood there, wondering what was supposed to happen now. You decided to finally go look at what he had been doing in the kitchen all along.

The crimson smell hit your nose again as you approached the dark room. You hit the light to see that gore covered every inch of your kitchen. A trail of blood that started from your doorway led to the fridge where Franz had been standing when you walked in on him.

You investigated further to see that inside was a man you had never seen before, freshly murdered and stuffed into the back. “Oh my—!“ You covered your mouth in a desperate attempt to prevent yourself from vomiting at the sight.

In a fit of anger, you stormed to your bedroom where Franz was still sleeping to confront him about it.

“Excuse me!”

He didn’t budge.

“Franz!”

Your foot made contact with his side, knocking you off of your own feet and stumbling to keep balance. He was like a rock.

“I saw what you did in my kitchen. Who was that?! Why did you do that?!” Your soft voice firmed and wavered with emotion. You finally got him to respond but it was a mumble and the only things you could make out were “some guy.” And “hungry.”

“I can’t house you if you’re bringing bodies into my home.” You told him. “They’ve installed new cameras since last time when you first showed up. What am I supposed to say when the D.D.D. comes to investigate?”

“They won’t come.”

“They will.” You pressed on. “I’ve been getting watched ever since you—“

“The D.D.D. won’t come because that rat was already stowed away when I got here. I did you a favor.” He then turned over so that you could only see his back. “He wants to be me so bad.”

“Wh-what…?” You blinked. “Someone was in my house while I was away? Doing what?”

And then he dozed off to sleep. He no longer reacted to your calls and kicks to the side. He didn’t wake. He didn’t budge.

Taglist: @crybabies-hearts @z3r0art @chilifrylizard2 @luciledreamz

There were so many ppl who wanted to be tagged that I lost track so I really hope you guys find this! Thanks for being patient with me.

#that's not my neighbor #thats not my neighbor #francis mosses #Francis Mosses x reader #Milk Man #Milk man x reader #Yandere Milk Man x Reader #Yandere francis mosses #tnmn #doppleganger #dark romance

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galesdevoteewife · 10 months ago

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Gale may not be so typical squishy wizard/scholar?

-My Galeology study note-

Looking at his character sheet in the Deluxe pack gets me thinking, maybe our wizard is not exactly designed to be the typical squishy one...?

[Act2 spoiler warning]

2 things caught my eyes:

1) Great physical fitness, and good reflexes. (For your reference, Gale & Wyll are the two companions who have the highest Con: 15. I put everyone's sheets at the bottom of the post.)

His Con and Dex are... very high?? I mean, higher than Karlach and Lae'zel...????

Note 1: I suspect it could have something to do with his background as Mystra's chosen, as they are somewhat "transformed" when they agree to become the goddess's chosen. A topic for another day since I haven't quite figured it out yet, for anyone who is interested there's a chapter about it in The Seven Sisters. Also, I have little clues on how much chosen lore credit Larian was taking into account while designing him, or how Mystra's "taking back the given ability" works. Note 2: Again, Mystra's chosen are often sent on missions that involve a lot of traveling according to Elminster's series. Mystra also mentioned that Gale and she used to have adventures together, which leads to an assumption: despite his preference he might be traveling quite a lot until he was cast aside and quarantined himself in his tower. Might be the type of scholar who is very keen on field studies?

Note 3: Can someone undress Elminster to exam my theory please??xD Neh won't work I think all human might share same body model in game

Come to think of it, there was a party banter between Karlach & Gale that went like :

Karlach: Whoa! Almost slipped there. Gale: You wouldn't be the first, I'd wager. It's been some time since these walkways felt the carpenter's hammer. Karlach: You gonna catch me if I eat a brick? Gale: With my reflexes? I'd catch you before you so much as stubbed a toe.

At first I thought that was a sarcastic joke but, seems like it wasn't? Also this:

Karlach: Ready to enter the belly of the beast? Gale: It's the stairs I'm dreading. I shall close my eyes, and pretend I'm climbing my own, far superior tower in Waterdeep. Karlach: In that case, welcome home.

...So it seems when I pictured him as a homebody, I should reimagine the concept of home... His has...lots of stairs? Just walking around in the tower could be counted as a workout, sort of thing? Note: I don't think the place he shows in the Act 2 cutscene is his tower. Otherwise, aren't these neighbors pretty much doomed?

2) Not THAT smart. Well, I love him, so I will speak in his defence: [1] He has a warm(s) digging holes in his brain. [2] Poisonous magical bile running in his blood. Maybe he's just not at his best, makes sense, eh? Wyll mentioned he is nerfed after tadpole too. After all, this man obviously memorized a DICTIONARY:

Gale: You promised to stay in Waterdeep. 'Promise,' verb, meaning to swear something will or will not be done. Tara the Tressym: And I decided 'will not'. And a good thing, too. You look like you haven't had a good meal in days

Player: When I said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. What does that really mean? Gale: If I recall correctly, the Waterdhavian Dictionary of the Common Tongue of Faerûn defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. Gale: Sorry, sometimes I just can't help being quite insufferable. In seriousness, I'm glad you asked that question.

Along with a bunch of you-may-never-need information:

Everything about ceremorphosis? Myconid? Why in the world have him read about Cazador??? And how can he not know the distance between Waterdeep & Baldur's Gate, even Karlach ―who spent a decade, which is likely half of her life in hell― knows better geography than him. Gale either totally ignored the subject or portaled everywhere; distance meant nothing to him?? Uh, but you can't take party banters too seriously; it's buggy. How could a bug bit Karlach in the swamp? It should've been burned into ashes before it even reached her, no?

Anyway, just rambling some thoughts <3 I would have gone to Harvard if there was a major in Gale...

-DISCLAIMER- Brought to you by a brainrot wife, Galerian missionary. Be warned the article might has (strong) bias because the writer is braindead and she thinks Gale is the most awesome character in the world.

#baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 gale #ramblings #Galeology #bg3 datamine

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chgridlock · 6 months ago

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Fine. LN- pt 4.

Part. 3 here: https://www.tumblr.com/chgridlock/749755983679586304/fine-ln-pt-3?source=share

Y/n and Lando were childhood best friends, an inseparable duo who knew each other’s secrets like the back of their hand. But then came F1. Lando transformed into a playboy prince, his name synonymous with champagne showers and a different model on every arm. Models just like y/n, except for her. Disgusted, she distanced herself, the warmth of their friendship replaced by a biting cold. Y/n, chasing her own dreams, blossomed into a sough-after model, gracing the covers of magazines right under Lando’s nose, well, at least that’s what she assumed. In taught, Lando followed her religiously on social media, a secret admirer hidden behind a facade of arrogante.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, ex best friends, Lando being a dick sometimes.

The morning light, harsh and unwelcome, streamed through Lando’s blinds, pulling him from a restless sleep. He didn’t even wait for the insistent buzz of his alarm. Groaning, he reached for his phone, the glowing screen a beacon in the pre-dawn, a silver of hope flickering within him.

His heart dropped like a stone. No new notification. Disappointment washed over him, a bitter taste in his mouth. He stared at the blank screen, replaying last night's messages in his mind. The frustration, the simmering anger, the helpless concern- all tangled up in a knot that tightened with each passing second.

He wasn’t sure what to feel anymore. This whole situation had stirred a chaotic cocktail of emotions within him. Worry, of course that gnawed at his gut like a hungry beast. Anger, hot and sharp, at your stubbornness. Irritation, a dull ache at the back of his mind, at your disregard for your own health. Guilt, an unwelcome guest in his thoughts, for his earlier callous wish. An beneath it all, a sliver of something else, a concern that went beyond simple friendship.

He sighed heavily, throwing back the covers and forcing himself out of bed. Despite the emotional turmoil churning within, he had a day to dace. Anything to distract him from the constant thought of you tucked away in your apartment, feverish and alone.

This whole thing felt irrational. Why did he care so much? You were just being yourself, stubbornly refusing to admit vulnerability. “Just a simple case of stubbornness and annoying behavior,” he muttered himself, trying to convince his heart of a thrush his mind couldn’t quite accept.

He went through the motions of his morning routine, a practiced autopilot to keep his thoughts at bay. But it was futile. Every mundane task - brushing his teeth, making coffee- sent his mind wandering back to you. He reply’s your dismissive message, picturing the grimace on your face as you typed it. He remembered his own frustration, his simmering helplessness.

Then came the guilt. The way he’d lashed out about your lack of self-care. And finally, the undeniable worry. The worry that have culminated in a desperate need to check on you.

He sighed again, a defeated sound. Grabbing his phone once more, he typed out a message, culminating in a desperate need to check on you.

“Hi,” he wrote, the single word with unspoken concern. “Is everything okay now? Did your fever get worse or anything?”

A wave of relief washed over Lando as his phone buzzed, quickly replaced by a surge of worry as he read your message. “I literally feel like I’m dying gosh,” it read, a stark contrast to your usual behavior. He frowned, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“Still?” He typed, the question hanging heavy in the air.

He couldn’t believe it. A whole night had passed, and you were still feeling this awful? The image of you flashed in his mind. He paused for a moment, trying to to chose his words carefully, “Have you at least taken the meds for your fever…or seen a doctor?” He finally typed.

He waited, his heart pounding in his chest. Your response arrived all of quickly: “it’ll pass.”

He groaned- There you were again, brushing it off like a minor inconvenience. His frustration bubbled over, tinges with a touch of anger. You were being so irresponsible.

“Just take the damn meds,” he typed forcefully. “Or see a doctor…” He paused, tossing around a crazy idea.

“Or I’ll have to come over and take care of you myself…”

He knew it was a ridiculous threat, considering the distance between them. But the though of you lying there alone, miserable and neglected, was unbearable. He hit send, a mix of irritation and concern churning in his stomach.

Another message pinged on his screen. You needed to sleep, you said, the curse word a testament to just how bad you were feeling. Lando felt a surge of exasperation mixed with a strange pang of sympathy.

He sighed, defeated. He knew pushing you wouldn’t help. “Just… sleep then,” he typed with a resigned air. “And don’t forget to take the meds…” he trailed off, leaving the implied threat hanging in the air. “Or else..”

He couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Did he really want to storm over there and take care of you? I mean, in the past he craved for that. The thought now was absurd and yet… so tempting.

Lando’s heart plummeted as read your response. “I don’t have,” it read, hanging in the air like a confession of neglect. He raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t jus a simple annoyance anymore. This was full-blown worry, tinged with a hefty dose of self-reproach.

“You really don’t have any meds at all…” he typed, the words heavy with disappointment. He couldn’t believe you’d gone a whole night without even a basic painkiller to dull the ache. Had you eaten anything? Were you even bundled up in something warm?

He slammed his fist against the desk in frustration, the sound echoing in the silence of his apartment. How could he have let this get so bad?

“Did you take anything else? Are you taking enough care?” He bombarded you with questions, having against hope that you’d done something, anything, to soothe your discomfort.

But your following message stopped him cold. “Look Lando,” you wrote, the flippancy in your words a stark contrast to the seriousness of the situation, “Im dying but is fine, didn’t you want me to get sick?”

His eyes narrowed, his initial frustration morphing into something else entirely. Was that… sarcasm? A twisted joke? His mind raced. Was this a cry for help disguised, or were you genuinely bitter about his earlier callous words?

Lando’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, a knot of guilt tightening in his stomach. He wanted to express his remorse, but finding te right words felt impossible. Finally, he typed, “I didn’t wish for you to get sick to he point that you were dying…”

A beat later, your response arrived, laced with exasperation. “Jesus Christ, Lando” it read.

He winced, the sting of your words a well-deserved punishment. “Shut up,” he replied, shame burning in his fingers. “I shouldn’t have said that. It was a stupid thing to say in the heat of the moment, and i only meant for it to be a lousy cold, nothing serious.”

“Great!” You replied, the sarcasm dripping from your text.

Lando rolled his eyes, a small part of his frustration returning. “Don’t act like you weren’t infuriatingly stubborn yesterday!” He fired back, swift and fiery.

“You were the stubborn one!” Your responde came back “Good fucking bye.”

The sudden silence that followed hit him like a physical blow. He stared at the black screen, the last message hanging there, a stark reminder of his idiocy. You were right, you always were. He’d been the stubborn one, and now you were paying the price.

A surge of panic washed over him. “Wait,” he typed, a desperate plea hanging. “Don’t ignore me, damn it…”

But his message was met with silence. He spent the rest of the day glued to his phone, his heart sinking with each passing second. Every notification had him scrambling, only to be met with disappointment. The worry gnawed at him, a constant companion alongside the guilt that twisted his gut.

The world throbbed with a dull ache, mirroring the pain in your head. Each breath felt like a chore, your body heavy and sluggish. Lando’s messages swam in and out of focus on the screen, his words blurring together. You felt a flicker of anger, a spark amidst the fog of your illness.

“Good fucking bye”, you typed, your finger hitting the send button with a satisfying click. Who the fuck does he think he is, you muttered to yourself. He said he was coming over if I didn’t take care of myself? What was he thinking being now so caring and…and sweet… wait, no, no. He’s a dick, utterly and bitterly dickhead egoistic shithead… but it would be nice to have him here, like old times, feeling his arms around…NO. This must be the fever playing tricks with me. Oh how i hate being this vulnerable fuck.

The phone slipped from your grasp, clattering on the nightstand. You didn’t have the energy to puck it up, the effort too much. Closing you eyes, you drifted off into a feverish sleep.

The day stretches on, each tick of the clock an echo of his growing worry. Lando went trough the motions of his routine- work, dinner, a mindless TV show- but his focus remained fragmented. He stole glances at his phone constantly, hoping for a notification, a message, anything to break the silence.

Frustration warred with worry. Were you truly sick, or were you simply ignoring him after their heated exchange? Finally, after a full day of agonizing silence, he hesitantly picked up his phone and hoped a simple “Hey…” The single word hung up in to the air, a fragile bridge between them.

He pressed send, holding his breath. Seconds turn into minutes, silence stretching uncomfortable. He finally consider calling, a desperate need to hear your voice overriding his usual hesitance.

“Yes?” The voice that answered was barely a whisper, raspy and strained. The sound of your voice smelt a jolt of worry straight to his heart. The playful defiance of your usual voice was replaced by a vulnerability that tightened his throat.

“Are you alright…? How are you?” He blurted out.

The reply came back, raw and desperate, “Like fucking dying, my fever is not coming down.” Lando’s heart clenched. Parted of him wanted to yell, to remind you of your stubbornness, how you refused to take care of yourself. But the bigger part, the part that truly cared, drowned it out. He took a deep breath, forcing calm into his voice.

“How high is your fever now?” He asked, his tone firm but laced with concern.

“Hmm, like…40 degrees,” your voice whispered back.

A groan escaped Lando’s lips. 40 degrees? That was dangerously high. The worry that had been simmering all day erupted into a full-blown panic. He couldn't just sit here anymore.

“40 degrees…?” He repeated, his voice barely a whisper too.

“Yes…” the single word confirmed his worst fear right now. A surge of protectiveness shot through him. He couldn’t just wait and hope for the best. He needed to see you, to make sure you were alright, to take care of you the way you wouldn’t take care of yourself.

“Im coming to your flat now,” he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Don’t even try to stop me.”

Silence descended on the line. He held his breath, waiting for you inevitable protest.

“Lando, no,” your voice came back, weak but resolute.

“Y/n,” he countered, his voice firm but gentle, “your fever is 40 degrees. I’m coming over.”

“Lando, don’t-“

“Shut up,” he interrupted, surprising himself with his own urgency. “I’m coming over and that’s that.”

He wouldn’t allow room for debate. He knew you well enough to understand you might still try to downplay your condition. But this time, he woulnd’t let you. He cared about you, damn, deeply, too much, fuck. The thought of you being alone and potentially getting worse was a terrifying prospect.

He hung up the phone before you could argue further. “Fine, you’re making me doing this y/n.” His focus was singular - get you, take care of you, and make sure you were alright.

Author’s note: HELLO LOVES. Sorry for taking THIS long to post, but college is hard guys and I’ve been sick twice so yeah, not much time, I’m sorry. But summer is coming and that means more time to write. Not really happy with this chapter but God know that the next one is going to be good. Tysm for reading this. Love u all. ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

Tag list: @persiar9 @mia-rrrs @ssararuffoni @kapsylia @formulaal @sparklysharknerd-blog1 @f1fantasys @landosgirlxoxo @moonclaine @charlesgirl16 (for some reason I’m not able to mention all of the users, don’t know why its happening, trying to find a solution. Sorry loves for that.)

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #fanfic #lando #lando norris #lando norris angst #lando norris imagine #lando norris mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando x reader #mclaren

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