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darlingdekarios · 10 months ago

Text

abandon all hope.

RATING: explicit. 18+ only. — LENGTH: 9,131— Raphael x f![warlock]tav [reader]

CONTENT: being a patron is being a sugar daddy/mommy you can't change my mind, set during Act II canon, small amounts of alcohol consumption, toxic behavior/ expressions of possession/ownership, "fluff", SMUT [unprotected p in v], KINK(S) [praise kink, orgasm control, hair pulling, biting, scratching/clawing, blood, breath play, dacryphilia, just a little degredation, size], there's a lot of poetry in here I did my best, Haarlep cameo, the least Raphael could've done for killing an Orthon for him is fuck us ffs, have fun thinking Raphael is bad at sex I'm built different, this got out so out of hand

you had become his absolute favorite - his most precious client and prized treasure. it's become increasingly difficult not to admit that you're truly his forever...and he's ready to hear it.

"In a world of horrors where shadows loom, A tiny creature navigates through certain doom. A little mouse, determination in its eye, Hoping this will not be its last heard lullaby."

It would be a lie to say that very voice didn't send the most delightful of shivers down your spine each time it announced his presence to you - you hung on each syllable like he was speaking a new language you were desperate to understand. Though your back was turned to him as the corners of your lips twitched upward you could feel in your soul - the one that no longer belonged to you - that he knew.

Though you may have been doing your best to feign disinterest and even often annoyance at his dramatics, it was no secret that you found him amusing. Fortunately, he happened to feel rather the same, a creeping mirth building in his chest at this familiar performance you were putting on.

"Just when I was beginning to miss your theatrics."

It was only then he realized just how badly he'd yearned to hear your voice again in the time since it had last swam into his ears. Curiously - but perhaps not at all - he felt his mouth go temporarily dry as his next rehearsed verse fell from his mind momentarily. When his silence lingered you filled it gracefully as you knelt before a bucket of water, scrubbing your arms free of the blood that covered them as you worked off the most uncomfortable parts of your armor.

His stumble did not last forever - his practiced words would not go to waste.

"With the battle fought and her patron's foe slain, She has etched upon her weary soul so very much strain. With a gentleness most sincere, the Patron offers her rest. Her wearied body, soon at peace even in her mind, No longer bound by battles' fierce behest, Their worries, for a moment, left entirely behind.

For the strongest heroes, too, do need a moment's grace, To find their strength renewed in the tenderest embrace."

Though his continued lack of transparency was frustrating, particularly after the stretch of days you'd had at his bidding, you noticed the practice lilt in his words, the methodic delivery of his latest poem.

"Have you been practicing poetry for me again, my Lord?" your tone was filled to the brim with the very amusement you felt, amusement that was growing by the moment at the slight waver in his voice, the subtlest indication that now was one of few times his trademark control had faltered. "I must tell you, it really is quite sweet. I've never inspired such before."

Your pleasantries and a title you so rarely chose for him stirred a feeling oh-so rare and delicious in him, a tingle up his spine that spread a wicked grin across his face. Exhausted, and uncaring of the company at the moment you continued your work on seeking your own comfort, continuing to peel armor away from your figure and toss it to the side.

Maybe you knew the lack of attention would agonize him - maybe that was only just more amusement for you. Annoyingly, he was attempting to bury the desires as he always did around you, finding now that the feelings stirring were beginning to gnaw their way out from the inside.

"You flatter me with honorifics yet ignore my presence."

His words had the slightest bit of edge to them and yet the tone in which they were delivered could be described as little more than a purr. It was a tone you'd discovered was reserved to fall on your ears alone - he never spoke to you this way in company, though you didn't doubt others existed that were fortunate enough to hear it. It was delicious - made more-so by the sharpness to them, the gentle bite that warned his limits were being tested.

The fact you only heard it when you were alone meant you seldom travelled with companions for too long, discarding them when your interests were no longer the central focus. It was lonely, but few wanted to be at your side when they discovered the source of your power, and the moments like this reaffirmed your decision each and every time.

"In a land of shadows shrouded with a curse most horrific, Lies a weary hero, hoping her devil might be more specific. For if she doesn't soon rest, Her weary body will be for the shadows to ingest."

There was no denying the radiance and allure in his laughter - it rang out so beautifully it didn't fit in a place like this, it almost wasn't fair for such a joyous sound to ring out in such a cursed land. Now, you couldn't help yourself - you turned to face him with a light smile pulling at your lips, exhaustion written on your face accentuated by the blood of those you'd slain in his name.

It pulled at his heart, something that seldom occurred - you were truly always a sight like this, in his eyes at least.

"Your skills increase tenfold each time we meet," he complimented, the smile settling on his face matched by the pull of the wrinkles beside his eyes. "You were successful in your latest task."

It was a statement - not a question, the wordless affirmation of his continued faith in your abilities. Still, you could've given him a snarky response - the blood covering your body and armor wasn't enough of a clue for him? In truth, though, you'd began to enjoy the moments where he complimented you - even more the rare moment he actually thanked you.

"As always," your coy tone was the final act to try to hide the giddiness you felt now, as well as the fatigue that was slowly overtaking your body. When was the last time you had eaten? When he left would you simply remove the rest of your armor and do your best to build a fire and lay beside it, or would you simply make do with the cold ground beneath you now?

He could sense it; he knew exactly what was on your mind. In truth, your thoughts were mirrored in his - this was no place for someone of your caliber to rest, especially not when you'd been so very good for him already. He'd heard about your camp, of course, but seeing it for himself - well, it really was quite awful.

A snap of his fingers and once again you were in the House of Hope, the unmistakeable extravagant decor a much better sight than the lands you'd been traveling. Though it was a bathroom where you appeared it was already enough to almost bring tears to your eyes - it smelled delightful, a bath was already drawn with bubbles and filling the room with the warmest steam. Unsurprising was the small table beside it filled with fruits, meats, cheeses and wine that made a fresh rumble sound in your stomach.

"It is so very fortunate your generous patron is willing to reward a valiant effort, would you not agree?"

You huffed a breath through your nose as a smile spread further across your fae, heat rising in cheeks as you returned your gaze to his. "And who said devils are selfish?"

His beautiful laughter filled your ears again, the warmth radiating from the fireplace and the bath nothing compared to that which engulfed you just hearing the sound so entirely for you. His movements were smooth as he made his way to the small table, pouring a glass of wine with ease while his eyes stayed on you the entire time.

"You have undertaken quite the ordeal on my behalf, you deserve a proper display of my abundant appreciation," there was the unmistakable purr of sultriness beneath his tone, his strides predatory as he made his way back to you, eyes running up and down your entire frame again before settling on your eyes. "And a bath, though I do so worship the vision of my dark hero covered in the blood of my enemies."

"You show your appreciation by providing me my power."

"And yet," the pause lingered heavily - if you weren't so keen on enjoying everything he had to offer you there would probably be a quip about holding for drama, but now you only looked up at him with wide doe eyes - eager and expectant and deliciously obedient. "I find myself curiously wanting to provide you with more."

The look that was blooming in his eyes was a peculiar one - one of a fondness. He slipped behind you gracefully, one of his hands reaching to grasp your hip and turn you to face an ornate mirror before his arm fully encircled your waist, drawing you back toward his chest. His hand slipped up your body, avoiding any part that would have been too inappropriate to touch without express permission, to grasp your chin, holding your face gently but firmly as he angled it to look in the ornate mirror before you.

"The longer you have my power reflected in your eyes, the more beautiful you become. Wouldn't you agree? You are radiant."

Now it was impossible to pass off the heat that had risen in you as nothing more than the heat from the bath - with his hand just beneath your chin on your neck and his claws digging ever-so-slightly into your skin, the heat had begin to pool at your core. You were still trying to remain focused, to maintain the aura of strength you almost never allowed to falter…particularly around him. But with him pressed to your back and his eyes devouring you in the mirror like a feral animal with a long-awaited meal, there were certain signs from your body that gave you away.

The elevated heart rate. The blown pupils. The pull of your bottom lip between your teeth.

It didn't take any amount of perception to see the signs that were so plainly there, particularly not for a devil who was eager to look for them.

"As you've pointed out, I'm covered in blood."

"A testament to our combined strength, my pet," you were certain with the intensity with which he was staring into your eyes' reflection in the mirror that he had stopped blinking, finding an unchanging face each time your eyes closed briefly. "Do you mind?"

He was offering you the wine glass to free up his hand or to distract yours - it was impossible to tell, really. Regardless of the intent you reached for it, taking a drink and relishing the familiar fire this particular wine ignited in your throat and belly.

Meanwhile his free hand was lightly trailing over the bow to the back laces of your clothing, giving a subtle tug to seek permission as his eyes continued to burn into yours in the mirror. With a nod the laces fell free under the quick work of his fingers - it was somewhat endearing that you knew he could do this with the snap of his fingers, yet he was choosing to do it himself, to peel you apart with his own hands. What you'd been wearing pooled to the ground and revealed the aftermath of your battle in full, all of the bruises and scratches and burns that had no place there…unless they were given by him or on his word.

His hands found your shoulders first and with a familiar warmth your injuries became another part of your past, his eyes trailing up and down your body to ensure all that remained was evidence of injuries not belonging to you.

"Positively resplendent," his breath was hot on your neck as he angled his face closer to yours, his nose brushing behind your ear softly. "A painting of this image would be so suitable for a portrait of us, wouldn't you agree?"

Bravery - it was a characteristic of yours that he cherished nearly more than any other, one that provided endless entertainment (and often worry, though he was hardly eager to admit that). It was the very trait that sometimes pushed you to do or say the very last thing he expected, and yet you still managed to take him by surprise. Even now in his domain was one of those times, your face unwavering and intention resolute as you spoke.

"Not in this form."

All he'd offer in his momentary shock was a raised eyebrow before these features faded and he transformed to the figure he was meant for, wings stretching behind his back as he got more comfortable. This is how he was meant to look - how the two of you were supposed to appear together, the devil and his toy hero, you and the source of your growing power. It would take blindness not to see the radiance with which you two joined together, and even then it was palpable in the air.

Ignoring the many feelings and tensions that crackled between the two of you when you were together was difficult - and growing more impossible by the day.

"This is suitable for the foyer."

He continued to lean down behind you, swallowing you with his true height so he could press a singular kiss behind your ear before straightening his back, his hand that was still flat against your now fluttering stomach pulling you against him tighter. Your skin burned where his lips had graced it - tingling as though his the action was magic. Your body only continued to respond to him with all of the tell-tale signs: a rising temperature, parted lips, blown pupils, quicker breath.

He so adored that you were trying to maintain control - to maintain an unbothered façade.

"You prefer me this way."

It left his mouth as a statement, but you caught the subtle insecurity at the tail of the sentence, the way his words slightly trailed and his eyes flashed with a truth - and hope? - that was so rarely seen.

Was he afraid of your answer?

"You don't need to wear a mask around me," you were quick to silence his doubt and eager to put out a particular fire that threatened everything around it boiling beneath his surface. Your sincerity and sensitivity was hardly what had initially drawn him to you - he loved that you'd always been willing to tell him your mind without a care to whom you were speaking, even himself included at times. "You would know that I preferred you this way if you spoke to me yourself more often instead of sending your little spy."

Suddenly you understood the meaning of the phrase "devilish grin" in a new light.

"Do I detect jealousy, my dear?" he purred as he leaned down toward you again, his breath tickling the back of your ear and neck and his claws dug into your hip slightly. You tried to ignore the flare of heat within you, unwilling to admit it fully quite yet. "A flicker of envy, so very subtle but clear."

You huffed and rolled your eyes in response to his taunt, annoyed he could think of a rhyme so quickly and a charming one at that, and even more annoyed that it worked. Bards.

"Korilla does not enjoy the same…benefits you do," he continued when you offered nothing in response but the puff of air, a reticent hum vibrating in your chest as you raised the cool glass to your lips to take another drink. Your eyes met his in the mirror again as you realized how long they'd been focusing on his hands, allowing your gaze to stay connected as you continued to drink.

Of course, he was hardly one to leave a silence unfilled for long.

"And what of my own feelings?" he questioned, the twitch in his jaw accentuating the frustration behind his words that he was trying to tame. "So many people you meet these days and you haven't shared with a single one where you get your power…"

It was hard to focus on a conversation like this when his claws were now grazing lower down your thigh, red lines painting your skin the evidence the Cambion's claws had been there. In the mirror you could see how he lovingly soaked in the sight of each new mark - of each new claim of his territory. You'd have far more decorations from him by the time you returned to your own camp.

"What am I supposed to think other than you're ashamed of me?"

"No," the rejection of his insinuation came from your lips faster than any reply you'd given before by far, a fact that ticked his lips into a slight smile. Though the two of you teased anda taunted one another often, you were always well aware of the line before you stepped over it. "They wouldn't understand."

"They don't have to understand…they have to respect. Besides, it's not their soul to be bothered with, and you're hardly the only warlock in your little party."

"But they won't. With the Blade of Frontiers it is different…he had no choice, not really. I did - I could've chosen anything else…anyone else. And I chose you."

"Then you will make them."

You could hear the commanding tone he rarely needed to take with you begin to form in his words, a low grumble rumbling against your chest as he spoke. At this point you knew what little remained of his patience was so close to slipping away completely - but you still couldn't stop yourself from testing those tempestuous waters just a bit more.

After all, he needed you alive just as much as you needed him. Harm too serious coming your way was out of the question, and the proof you could take a bit of pain was in the stories that would be told about you and your adventures for years to come.

"It's just another contract to you. What difference does it make?"

The final impertinent word left your lips as his hand grabbed your chin, applying pressure and encouraging you to face him. He loomed over you in this form - a delicious fact - his skin noticeably hotter against yours as he leaned closer, trapping you between his body and the wall. Flames danced in his eyes, the raging inferno matching the temporary flare of anger he felt ignited in his chest. His grip on your face was resolute, thumb and forefinger grasping so hard your cheeks were squished together.

That would certainly keep you from further insult.

"I am so very fond of you, my impudent little mouse. Can you not see that is so?"

You'd been in many dangerous - increasingly so - situations recently, but the fact this one was one of the most was…invigorating. Invigorating in the same way as when he'd first approached you with a deal, in the way he'd complimented a job well done for the first time, in the way he was overjoyed when you returned from your kidnapping. In truth - because you were not foolish enough to deny what was a plainly writ fact - you were well aware you belonged to him in every aspect of the word. It was fun to test what boundaries a relationship like that presented.

Your heart was thudding against your chest harder and faster by the moment as he continued to regard you, fully aware you couldn't respond to his question through the hold he maintained on your face.

"I will not hear more of your ill-mannered mouth while I am being such a gracious host. You are far from 'just another' anything to me…"

There was a sincerity in his words that shattered any possibility of refute.

"…and I will not tolerate our attachment being hidden any longer."

A threat, or a promise? Both were equally exhilarating in their own way. With the expression on his face - furrowed brows, pinched nose, set jaw, and nostrils flaring with each breath - his feelings toward the situation were written plain on his face. He was done arguing - and you'd be foolish to push it.

"Perhaps I could have a collar fashioned for you that only I can remove."

His hand that still held your waist pulled you closer, a muscular tail winding around your lower legs to hold you against him. One of his legs slotted between your thighs as you pressed to him closer, hands clinging to his upper arms still. His face softened somewhat at the closeness, at the shaky breath that slipped past your lips as your eyes stayed oh-so focused on the way his curved into a wicked grin the more the thought blossomed in his mind.

"One that will burn you should you even try to remove it. Or perhaps better yet, a curse," as he spoke you found yourself drawn closer, entranced by the hardness in his pants that pressed to your waist now, chasing a kiss you weren't certain he'd give. "Or I could use hellfire to brand a symbol of my name beneath your eye - small enough not to ruin your beauty, large enough that everyone who sees you knows that you are mine."

He released his hold on your face only to drop his hand lower, lightly gripping your neck in a silent show of power. He regarded your expression carefully for any sign of distress and only grinned wider when he instead found observed your blown pupils and parted lips, his fingertips soaking in your accelerated pulse beneath them.

The fire in his tone sizzled for a moment, still lingering in each word but not quite as fearsome as even just a moment before. Sweet, almost - if you didn't know any better to see through the charm.

"Swear to me anew," he cooed, his thumb rubbing along the side of your neck as he spoke, eyes gazing at you with an expression that could only be described in adoration. The most temperamental volcano, fury subsided as fast as it'd come. When there was an offer to be presented, he could truly be oh-so-sweet. "An amendment to our existing contract. You are not to hide that we are joined together, or you will face consequences that will last forever."

Did it matter if you even truly had the option to refuse him when all you wanted to do was please him again? The proposition of more appreciation, the promise of his praise. That fact alone was enough to ensure your answer before you'd given it.

You nodded in understanding - specifics beyond what he'd stated weren't needed to convey the weight of his words.

"On one condition."

The bravery again - though your voice was more meek as you rightfully walked the fiery embers before you, navigating what you knew could still erupt again if you pressed too much harder again. To prove your point his eyebrow raised in annoyance, nose threatening to scrunch upward in frustration before you elaborated.

"We seal this contract with a kiss."

An expression that had almost been rage morphed into perplexity before a laugh burst from his chest, your mind lost in the sound and the view of his fangs, thoughts wandering somewhere fittingly sinful for your surroundings.

"And you talk about my theatrics."

Despite his taunting he brought you closer with his iron grip on your waist, the hand holding your neck still sliding up to your cheek as his thumb claw grazed along your bottom lip in passing. He looked at you like a child receiving a new toy, regarded you with an adoration often seen in temples.

And then, though there was still a subtle laugh shaking his chest, he held you reverently as he angled his head toward you. The rest of his expression as he approached would go unnoticed as your eyes slipped shut, holding your breath in anticipation…which he exploited for just a moment longer than was necessary before he finally gave you what you both wanted.

Your lips met like the strike of a match - the spark between flint and stone. It burned like frostbite and was over just as soon as it'd begun, taking your remaining breath with it.

It was a purr that rumbled in his chest as he ran his nose along your jaw that reminded you to breathe, his lips pressing a kiss over a pulse point on your neck pulling a gasp from your lungs as his hand slipped down the other side of your neck. Holding you like an artifact his fangs teased the skin on the spot for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened further, the tips of his claws threatening to break skin.

He withdrew before his composure melted, filling his chest with a deep breath to bring himself to full sense again.

"Come. I'm far from through with you, but you truly do need a bath."

It was…nice, which didn't quite seem wholly appropriate considering who he was and the fact the atmosphere had been threatening and tense only moments before. He sank into the tub first, motioning for you to join him by taking place between his legs. There was a voice in the back of your mind reminding you that all of this was because he wanted something - everything possible from you, and that he knew the best way to reach his goal was to manipulate.

The fact you were aware of it did little to stop you from enjoying it.

He made sure he ate and drank in a silence you didn't know he was capable of as his hands made work cleaning your body, a bath in the House of Hope proving to be a lavish experience as the water remained pristine and hot no matter how long it went on.

*(Though, it certainly could've just been the heat between your bodies sustaining the temperature).

It was the first time you'd truly relaxed since a tadpole had taken residence in your mind, the first moment of bliss in days. When his claws found your scalp and scratched against it lightly as he massaged soap into it he earned a thank you in the form of the sweetest moan that just couldn't be held back by your lips. You felt his cock twitch against your back at the sound, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest.

"My, my…who knew you could sound so melodic, my dear," his tone was best described as a condescending coo, treasuring the way you melted in his hold and couldn't help yourself from being his to play with. "I want to hear much more of you."

One of his hands slipped from your head down to rest on your stomach as the other went even lower to the top of your thigh, pausing still to wait for your reaction. When you leaned your head back against his shoulder and closed your eyes he took his sign, chasing more of a reaction from you by running a single claw softly up your thigh toward your core. The small gasp that fell from your lips wasn't enough, his disapproval noted with a click of his tongue against his teeth. It was impossible to keep silent when one of his fingers connected to your clit, rubbing a swift circle quickly.

The cry that burst from your chest returned the smile to his face, a low laugh filling your ears again as he leaned forward to kiss your neck. Two of his fingers parted your folds as they slipped downward to your entrance, moans falling freely from your mouth you'd forgotten how to close. Taking advantage of the fact he leaned closer to claim your lips, reaching his free hand to hold the back of your head and ensure you couldn't pull away from him.

A dark possessiveness within him considered slipping his fingers into you to feel how your tight walls would grip him, though he knew it meant you would face the consequences of his claws. He could heal you, after all - but you'd always remember the feeling. He'd refrain on that particular thought…

For now.

Instead, he returned his attention to your clit, fingers circling the sensitive nub as his fingers tangled into your hair. He continued to kiss you past what your lungs could take, your eyes opening to attempt to gain his attention. His own eyes remained closed and he only held your head in a firmer grip - no doubt he knew though he couldn't see - and he continued that way until your vision was just starting to blur and your hole was clenching around nothing. Only then did he release you - releasing you fully by pulling his fingers away too - allowing you to take the breath you needed.

So close to the edge of release only to be pulled back away from it. It was a cruelty that made the first sound that left your lips when your breath returned to be a whimper.

"Please," you could barely get the shaking word through your lips, it could hardly be considered speaking when each letter was filled with a whine. "More."

"Now now, you will learn to take what I give you," he cooed, releasing his hold on your head to run the back of his fingers down the side of your face and neck, lightly pushing your head to the side to press a kiss beneath your ear. "With no questions asked. Won't you? You'll have to show me you can be patient."

You couldn't help the whimper that slipped past your lips again, your body singularly focused on its need for more. Your eyes are wide and desperate as you gazed at him, hands reaching to grasp at his thighs and squeeze. "'s not fair…"

Your ears were filled with his boisterous laugh again before he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, allowing his lips to stay against your skin as he spoke.

"Perhaps not for you, but it's perfectly lovely for me," you realized as he spoke that he was having fun, a giddiness in every word that proved it. Unrehearsed, without anger, without practiced intentions. Him. "Finish up in here at your leisure, then join me in the boudoir."

With a snap of his fingers he was gone and the option to beg for more removed you were alone, left to wonder exactly what awaited you when you did join him. The kind of excitement that matched the feelings of fear and anxiety bubbled in your stomach, making your movements a little clumsy as you navigated your way through one last wash of your body.

The feelings remained as you removed yourself from the water, realizing immediately you'd been left with no towel or robe or clothes to utilize on your walk. Feeling a flare of preemptive embarrassment you found your way to the hall, doing your best to navigate quickly as you muttered to yourself.

You were distracted in your search that you didn't notice Haarlep had stalked up to you from the dark after you'd passed until their voice filled your ears. "My, my, aren't you just delicious," he purred, continuing to walk closer toward you when you froze in your tracks. They circled you like a predator circled prey, like a painter studying their subject - it was enough to make your face burn again. "I wouldn't mind slipping into your image for the occasional rendezvous."

"Haarlep."

Their name left your lips as a gasp and they stopped in front of you with a wicked smile, handsome and proud and no doubt every bit as convincing as their Master, if not more. "So you do know me. How flattering."

You were cornered against a wall with one of their forearms resting next to your head, the other grasping your hip in fingers much gentler than the ones they were mimicking. They leaned closer until your lips were brushing together feather light, the anticipation of a kiss lingering heavy in the air and sending your heart rate skyrocketing again.

"Oh, what fun we will have together…"

Their sinful tongue left their mouth to lick the seam of your lips until they fell open, the muscle slipping into your mouth to kiss you fully and hungrily. As you swallowed their spit you started to feel new levels need, the definition of the word insatiable finally grasped in your mind. One of their knees knocked apart your legs as their hand left your thigh, slipping to examine how wet you were and finding their digits slid through your folds with embarrassing ease.

"Mm…but that will be for another time," there was a sincerity in their words that made them so believable and you were certain they were correct about it. "Tonight, your job is to make him a bit more tolerable for the rest of us. Be a good pet and behave, won't you?"

As they sauntered away in a pace that existed to entice you to follow they threw one last wink over their shoulder, pointing you in the direction of where you were meant to go. In a haze you made your way to your destination, opening the doors to find your Patron sitting on the grand bed with glistening satin sheets, lounging back against the headboard with his arms outstretched, waiting for your arrival. He'd covered himself with an expensive robe, the one he'd deprived you of.

The red of its fine fabric matched his burning aura perfectly.

He observed your clumsy movements as you closed the doors with light amusement until the two of you were once again alone, his eyes appreciating your clean form as you walked to the foot of the bed. With a smile he raised a hand to motion you forward with one finger, his features fittingly illuminated by the hellfires that illuminated the room.

He was beautiful. Enticing. This very room could become an easy prison with no locked door if you allowed your resolve to slip.

"Come," he invited in a delicious tone, using one hand to untie his robe and allow it to fall open. He patted his thigh afterward to further elaborate on his instruction, one you were more than willing to follow. "Crawl to me…show me what an obedient, eager little pup you can be."

You did exactly as he told you to, enjoying the feeling of the soft sheets against your skin as you made your way to him. You climbed into his lap and straddled his waist between your thighs, core hovering over his hard and throbbing cock that you now wanted more than logic should reasonably allow. He felt how wet you were when your thighs made contact with his skin, breathing in deep to take in the scent of your arousal.

"My, my, how very eager you are," he spoke of you as if he was being presented with the meal of a lifetime. It made you feel desired in ways you weren't sure you'd be able to experience with anyone else for the remainder of your life. "I have to wonder, did my naughty toy find you along the way?"

You nodded, the only response you found yourself capable of, grinding down against his waist in a way that allowed his length to slip through your folds and spread your slick. His hands grasped your hips to follow your movements, chest vibrating against yours with a quiet purr as he appreciated your movements.

"Oh, of course they did…sometimes they just can't help it, the sinful thing…"

Both of his hands found their way to your thighs to grab them roughly, not making any effort to be mindful about his claws in places it wouldn't seriously hurt you - something that would become a pattern for the rest of your time together. Under his fingertips he could feel the welts that raised as a result of his scratching, smiling a charming smile as he took in your expression.

Finding you perfectly needy for him he reached one hand to grab your jaw and pull you closer, leaving his face hovering inches from yours. His skin was noticeably hotter against yours now, the undeniable evidence that he was just as effected by your closeness as you were his. His other hand gave your ass a swat to encourage you to raise up on your knees again, licking his lips when he could then reach toward your core and run his fingers through your folds again.

It was easier to feel the arousal he - and Haarlep, now - had earned when you weren't submerged in a tub. His fingers took the distance from your hole to your swollen clit painfully slow, matching the deep inhale he filled his lungs with along the way. Lost in how his hands felt against your body again you hardly noticed his tail wrap around one of your legs to hold you against him tighter, ensuring there was no chance of you climbing off before he'd had his fill.

It was hardly something he needed to do, but the implications of it made the experience all the better for him - and for you too.

"Don't forget to speak to me, my dear," he cooed, no annoyance present in his voice though he was hardly happy he had to remind you as he exercised a bit of patience at your current state. "I simply adore hearing the desperation in your words."

"Please, I need…"

Though he'd requested them your words were cut off as he pulled you against him rougher, pressing his throbbing length up into her core as he does. Your sentence quickly turned into a moan, your hands grabbing at his shoulders so you could cling to him in every sense of the word.

"Do go on."

You hated that his taunting tone sent a shiver down your spine and a hot wave of arousal straight to your core. Your desperation flooded every word that came from your mouth. "I need more," you were begging without having to be asked for it, something he would thank you for at a later time. "Something…a-anything you'll give me."

"Anything I'll give you?"

Was that particular choice of words a mistake? You found you couldn't come to a rational answer as you became lost in the embers of his eyes. You nodded, grinding against him to further your consent and ensure the point was driven home - you wanted him in whatever capacity he'd provide, in any way that would earn you more of his favor.

You hadn't realized your lip was quivering and your eyes were slightly watering out of the desperation but he had, soaking in the sight of you so wanton and lustful for him. It was his favorite look on you by far, and he couldn't resist the opportunity to see how truly indecent he could make you behave.

And all for him.

"Then prove to me you deserve it. Prove to me you're worth the effort from me and then I will prove to you that you are mine."

You only leaned closer to entice him the rest of the distance between you. You reached between your bodies with one hand to grasp his cock and rub it through your folds again, lining it up with your entrance and teasing down onto the tip slightly to test what he'd allow. He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to express a thought that disappeared as you began to sink onto him, maintaining the eye contact you knew he loved as you moaned out his name quietly. He forgave you when your eyes fluttered closed to focus on taking his length and girth, your forehead falling down against his shoulder as a heavy breath fell from your lips.

"That's it," he was quick to compliment your efforts to ensure you knew how much he appreciated it, hoping the praise would keep you from giving up. "You can take me. Do not get discouraged…"

Your head nodded as another steady breath left your chest, shifting your hips to find the right angle to take him in. Though his words were honied you knew he was hardly the patient type and to avoid a temper change you pushed yourself onto as much of his length as you could take, finally earning a groan from him that was worth the quick shot of pain that being stretched like this brought. One of his arms reached to wrap around your waist and his other hand found the back of your head, cradling you against his form. His wings soon joined, wrapping both of you in privacy and what felt like the ultimate safety.

Within his wings it would be impossible for anyone who entered to see how well you began to ride him after a long adjustment period, how after several minutes of grinding and shifting and allowing him to pump into you you began to take him perfectly. Though he maintained his hold on your head your lips were finding their way to any place they could reach on his neck, chest, and jaw, eagerly nibbling and licking and sucking - testing if you could mark him like he'd undoubtedly mark you.

He decided you were testing him when you bit into him hard, his surprise announced by a grunt and a squeeze from his hand holding your hip. He gave your hair a tug to pull you upward into a hungry kiss, your moans joining together in the room as your hands grabbed his horns to hold him against you.

This is how he wanted you for him forever.

As your tongues danced your movements slowed, his hands meeting on your upper back to press your chest closer to his. Allowing you a partial breath he pulled away from the kiss to watch your face twist in pleasure as his claws dragged slowly down your back, pressing harder the lower they reached as he experimented with what you'd allow. You were eager to prove exactly what he'd requested - you could take what he would give.

His own head dropped to claim one of your breasts in his mouth, his tongue circling your nipple and flicking the nub several times before he changed his efforts to suck hard enough to bruise, glad he could stay here without a real breath for longer than what you may have previously experienced. He only pulled away to bite a mark into the soft flesh that immediately spilled some blood - as you continued to ride him exactly how you liked you either didn't notice or you didn't mind, either of which were fine by him.

"Very good," he purred, remembering how well you normally responded to his praise. He was thanked by a quiet moan and your walls tightening, fluttering around his length as he struck just the right cord in you. "Should I allow you release before I have my way with you?"

You were nodding before his sentence was fully complete and begging incoherently as your face buried into his neck again, continuing to lavish the skin with kisses. Your thighs began to shake at the mere thought of release, at how it would feel to gush around his length and how he would moan feeling you constrict him.

Whatever words he chose to give you permission were not fully understood, only their intent mattered. Though he wanted to pump into you at his own pace he allowed you to find release in this position yourself, happy it didn't take much longer for your walls to clamp around him and your head to throw back in ecstasy, your screams undoubtedly filling every wall in the house despite the closed door.

He held you down on his length as you spasmed through the high, enjoying the feeling of your body against his and focusing on how you felt held in his arms. He was always going to take what he wanted from you after you'd found this release but the longer he soaked in how small you were against his frame the more his own carnal desire began to take over his thoughts, a feral need building that wouldn't be long ignored.

"You have hold of me like an addiction," he breathed out heavy, shifting his hips beneath you - earning a whimper - wondering how much you'd truly be able to take. "So…unh…tight…"

Before you had fully returned to your senses he was pushing you onto your back, staying inside you with little effort and pinning you down with one hand on your stomach. His other hand rested at the base of your throat with his forearm beside your head, and just as your mind began to fathom how dangerous the position you were in was he kissed you slowly, silencing reason once again.

You could feel how sensitive you were as he pumped his length into you a few times - slowly to test your reaction. He pulled away from the kiss to examine your face, finding it filled with pleasure and overstimulation - traces of pain were there but you gave no indication he needed to stop.

"Do you think you can take what I will give you?"

His lips moved against yours sensually as he spoke, and you opened your mouth to answer for only a sob to be released. Instead you just nodded, hoping it would be enough in the circumstances and looking into his eyes with a pleading expression. He pressed a kiss to your bottom lip and pushed every inch you could take into you roughly, earning another sob that was muffled as he bit into your bottom lip enough to cause it to swell. He pulled away from the action with a wicked grin and savored your expression for a moment longer before this position came to an end.

He pulled out of you slowly, moving to stand next to the bed. In your haze you listened to him give you instructions to get on your knees and elbows, instructions you followed hastily on shaky limbs as he stroked his length watching you obey. When you were finally presenting yourself to him exactly how he wanted he mounted behind you, still grasping his length in one hand as his other reached forward to circle your dripping hole with two fingers.

"Precious. I will try not to break you."

His fingers were gone and replaced with his cock swiftly, his restraint gone as he thrusted in as far as he could, still trying to press further when he reached the end and smiling when the most beautiful cry filled the room from you. He groaned out deep as his hand found your stomach, pressing against it to hold you upward, reaching his other hand to slip the fingers that were coated in your slick into your mouth.

"So small beneath me," he breathed out, leaning forward to press a kiss over one of the red welts he'd created on your back. He engulfed you in this position, you were at his complete mercy - all hope of being anything but his ever again gone. He would never give you up. "On your knees for me. Just where you should be."

He forgot to be somewhat gentle with you as he thrust into you at a feral pace - or perhaps he just didn't care how little you were able to move when he was through. He continued to kiss your neck, shoulders, and back in any place he could reach, his teeth marking your skin anywhere he could manage. His claws were just as helpful in regard to marking you, reaching to scratch at your thighs and back - until he focused his hand's attention on your ass, spanking and scratching and grabbing roughly as proved to give him additional leverage as he pounded into you.

He was already obsessed with the way you took him with moans and cries while ensuring you stayed in the position he'd molded you into, eyes transfixed on how your tight hole took his length. When this whole Absolute ordeal was taken care of at your hands, he'd happily take this sight every day.

"Look at you just taking me," his voice was shaking now, matching your legs once again. His hand left your stomach to squeeze your throat, accentuating the fact that you were truly just taking whatever he would give. "And you do it so well, you sweet thing."

Content with how marked you were for him his hands instead grasped your waist in the gentlest grasp he'd offered yet, not quite matching the ferocity at which he pounded into you. Through blurred vision you were half aware of the familiar figure that slipped into the room through the shadows, the incubus unable to keep away witnessing what was filling the House with the irresistible sounds of flesh smacking against flesh.

You didn't know if Raphael noticed - you didn't care. You doubted a complaint would be heard if you offered one, and they would leave after you'd reached your release and they'd heard your euphoria anyway.

(Though you did momentarily hope that sinful tongue they'd offered earlier could be put to a better use, though you knew your body would be spent by then).

"Give me another," he ordered, feeling how your body was tensing up again at the threat of release, eager to feel you snap again. "And I want to hear it…"

He reached to rub your clit again at a speed that matched his thrusts, eager to feel how tight you'd squeeze him when you came undone, already intoxicated by the way your velvet walls were fluttering around his length. He was taking what he wanted from your body at a roughness that would no doubt leave bruises for you to feel on the road to Baldur's Gate - he certainly wouldn't heal marks that were a gift from him covering your back and neck and causing you to walk with a limp that so clearly displayed you had coupled with him.

He let you fall to the bed fully, only finding he was able to pound into you harder as you laid flat on your stomach. Unwilling to have you pass out he grabbed your hair on the back of your head and pulled hard enough to force it back so you could continue to breathe, leaning his torso over yours until he could twist your head and claim your lips in a rough kiss. He was hungry - feral - fully lost in himself as he chased his own pleasure, releasing all inhibition as he found his release. The only warning it was coming was the sloppiness that overtook his thrusts as the end neared, a growl rumbling in his chest as he pulled away from your lips to instead bite into your shoulder.

His seed was molten as it filled you, overflowing past his length. As his release filled your womb his teeth broke your skin and he tasted your blood as he was lost in his pleasure. He'd crave its flavor that was entirely you just as often as he'd crave claiming your womb now, knowing the mark would show you were his.

He continued to pump into you slowly several more times, holding you still as you squirmed and whimpered from the overstimulation, hearing the shake in your breaths and sweet sounds that proved to him you were crying. When he decided to pull out completely his chest shook with a quiet, dark laugh, finding a comfortable position straddling over your ass. His hands were loving in the way a curator's were with art, running over your scratched and bitten back adoringly for several moments, fingertips tracing the marks that would last the longest. He leaned down to press a kiss to a particularly possessive bite mark before removing his weight from you, rolling you to your side to to check that you were still capable of coherency.

You blinked up at him with glassy eyes, tear-stained cheeks proving he had been right about your tears. He leaned to press a single gentle kiss to your forehead as he pulled the blanket over your weak body. Selfish of a creature as he was, he was still capable of some semblance of aftercare - though that was it, it was enough from someone like him to someone like you.

"Well done, my dear. A wonderful demonstration of your devotion to me."

This praise - this tone. The very reason you'd do anything he asked, become anything he needed you to become. Anything he asked of you in a moment like this you'd provide. Part of you wondered how long it would take for him to exploit that fact.

"Next time you've behaved for me I will have Haarlep join us. They can lick my seed clean from you as I watch how you look beneath me."

(You'd think more on that particular promise later, when your mind was capable of wrapping around anything other than Raphael's finger again).

His new tone was undeniable and impossible to ignore, the reverence steeping every syllable enough to drown in them. Appreciation, worship. It was difficult to decide if being beneath him or hearing this newfound depth of praise was more fulfilling. You nuzzled closer to him still just barely conscious, physically submitting to the exhaustion that overtook every inch of yourself.

You nodded your head lazily in agreement before burrowing your face in his neck, enjoying the familiar scent of cherries, musk and sulphur that had come to mean power and protection to you. If you were lucky those sinful notes would linger in your senses in the coming day.

Though he was far from one to cuddle, he wasn't one to complain when presented with any show of mutual adoration from you, and he allowed his tail to drape across your legs in a subtle concession to your own desires.

Beyond that, he was still, but he was content.

"Rest," you were intoxicated with this voice, one you couldn't help but wonder how few beings had heard it, one free of any performance - honest, soft. "You will need it before you continue your journey. When you wake you'll be in camp with your cohorts, and when you reach the city again you will return to me."

In your last moments of consciousness, you remained his eager little pup.

masterlist. baldur's gate III masterlist.

#raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep x tav #haarlep x reader #raphael smut #bg3 smut #raphael fanfic

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murdrdocs · 11 months ago

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MDNI sejanus & his big dick + his teasing

at first, sejanus is worried.

he gnaws at his bottom lip while you peel his trousers off of his hips, letting them fall to his ankles before you're back at the center of him with eager hands. you don't look up, too entranced and excited since this moment has finally come, but you can see the nervous way he's flexing his hands beside his thighs.

he clears his throat. he starts to speak. "listen, i don't want you to expect something." he's saying more, something about him not being the most gifted in the dick department. but you're not listening to him because you've pulled his briefs down enough to free his cock and it perfectly springs back up over the elastic, leaving sejanus' dick presented right in front of you.

he's impressive. girthy to the point where you already start to mourn the short lived comfort of your jaw. long enough to where you know he's going to hit the back of your throat without trying. he's uncut, and you wrap a hand around the center of him and pull back, revealing his slit where a bead of precum greets you.

it's involuntary when you voice your concerns, a small, "i don't think you're going to fit, sej," leaving your lips. and just that one admission is enough to squash any of sejanus' uneasiness.

it's not until a little while later that he becomes confident, though. truly confident, enough to comfortably tease you.

it's been a little while longer than favored since you and sejanus have been alone, and you've been subjected to getting yourself off with your fingers and nothing but memories in sejanus' absence. you're more sensitive when you do see him, mewling when sejanus just swipes two fingers through your slit.

you're overeager, too, taking matters into your own hands and attempting to sink down onto him without much prep. "i can take it," you told him, defiant and determined all at once.

there was no stopping you when you were like this, so sejanus sat back and held a steady hand on your hip, telling you to take it slow while he waited for the inevitable to happen.

and it did. your eyes scrunching shut as your jaw dropped. he could feel you tensing up, he could see the hesitance taking over your body.

he plans to help you out, he will help you out. but first he has to tease you just a bit.

"it's big, huh, honey?" you nod and sejanus tuts softly. "i told you to take it slow, didn’t i? d'you want my help?" another nod and sejanus trails his hand from your side to your gaping cunt.

"okay, baby. i'll help you."

#sejsworld!#sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus plinth x you #sejanus plinth smut #sejanus plinth #celeste writes thg

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fev3rish · 5 months ago

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THREE ISN’T A CROWD. ami wakita x reader x kenji sato (2.7k words)

In which Ami and Kenji find a piece of their hearts in you.

warnings. reader is a college graduate (23ish), emi appears only briefly in this and doesn’t interact with reader. i finished this in one day and barely proofread it. notes. no one: me, ( @victoirey ) after returning to tumblr after almost a year in hiatus, with a new alias and a new account: hey y'all...

but really i do hope y'all enjoy this little comeback!! I watched Ultraman completely sleep deprived, so i’m real sorry if there are any errors !! YOU HAVE ALL NEGLECTED AMI WAKITA TOO MUCH. I am taking my seat as the first person to ever post an x reader that included her 🙏 reblogs appreciated more than likes! let me know what you think!

it starts with Kenji & Ami. The tension between them is too strong to cover up as just friendly, and against his better judgment, Kenji can be a weak, weak man. Ami is as beautiful as she is elegant and kind. she’s also irresistible. So, Kenji asks her out on a date.

They go together well. Ami is a caring girlfriend, & Kenji, although a busybody—is a sweetheart to her. Their relationship is stable for the most part, and while Kenji does have trouble communicating, Ami is everlastingly patient.

five months into their relationship, Ami meets you.

You are just stepping into the real world, having graduated college a month ago and starting things off slowly. She remembers you, you interned at the company she worked for. You had done well—and they had requested to have you work full-time.

You were as competent as she expected; having been asked to take you under her wing until you were skilled enough to become a senior journalist like she was, she threw you into the career mercilessly. Maybe it was on purpose, maybe it wasn’t—but Ami had good intentions. She had expectations for you.

You exceeded them.

When Ami first took you under her wing, she expected you to have a hard time adjusting. You did, make no mistake, but not for long. It seems you just naturally coordinated well with her—it kind of pissed her off. You were so good at your job, and you were both such a good team. She can only imagine how much better you’d be once you finally became a senior journalist.

“Ms. Ami?” She jolted in her seat. Her eyes scanned around the room for who called, and her eyes landed on you. Ah, yes. That’s right, she’d asked you to fetch some of the papers she printed from the printing room a couple of minutes ago. She smiled kindly, welcoming you in.

“Your papers.” “Thank you.”

As you handed her papers over, Ami’s eyes landed on your hands. She didn’t know what came over her. She shook your hands the first time she met you, she’s given you high fives before, so why did it feel different now? Why was there a spark so suddenly?

—And as she indulged in her own selfish desires, letting her hand caress yours as you handed her the papers, why did she want it to last longer? You left the room, smiling at her one last time. Her eyes creased as she smiled back, but you never had the chance to see it. She wishes you did. Would you have reacted to it? Why did she care so much? Ami gulped nervously.

This was a problem. Ami’s growing feelings were a big, big problem. You had her wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know. Kenji was clueless. Ami wanted to keep it that way; she loved Kenji the same way she always did after all: infinitely.

Polyamory wasn’t new to her, but it also was. She’s known of it, she’s known how it worked, courtesy of a boring day, free will, and Google—she didn’t know she would actually be considering getting into it!

It gnawed at her, and she refused to get into it with anyone. Even her darling boyfriend, who noticed, and asked about it. Ami shut down any attempt to ask what was wrong with a newly discovered fire, saying that she wasn’t ready to talk about it. She wasn’t.

Besides, Kenji had a scheduled interview with you in two hours! He had better things to worry about.

Kenji was used to reporters trying to get his attention.

That’s how he met his love, Ami. She wormed her way into his heart and showed him what balance meant, and unknowingly, she also helped him with Emi. He owed Ami more than she knew, and he was planning on paying that debt in full—hopefully, she would accept payment in love.

Kenji is head over heels for his girl by the time you enter the picture, and he sits down with you for an interview.

It was an idea Ami put into your head, and you set to work—shyly asking the woman if she could schedule you for an interview with the athlete. You wanted to exceed your own expectations for yourself, and you thought that a face-to-face interview with a (truthfully, intimidating) athlete would get you there. Ami grinned once you opened up to her about it, and she agreed.

So now, here you were.

twiddling your thumbs and clicking your pen, you waited for the famous Kenji Sato to arrive at the table you had reserved. You didn’t know when you started spacing out, but when you snapped back in—he was already in front of you, awaiting your next move. The pen you clicked was gripped with such fervor as you tried to collect yourself, sheer shock filling your veins because how could you just space out like that—

“You’re going to interview me, yeah?” The star had asked, and you swallowed the blockage in your throat, flustered. “Yes, yes, Mr. Sato—“ You blurted out, obviously unprepared.

Kenji would never admit it, but he thought it was cute. It was really, really cute. You could say your own embarrassment charmed him, with how he spoke to you in response. His tone was calm, soft; friendly. “Hey, hey—loosen up, it’s all good. It’s nice to meet you.”

Your mouth went dry. He only smiled even more, and before you knew it—as if his inner peace was contagious, you breathed in and out. Then, you smiled back. “It’s nice to meet you too, Mr. Sato.” You had replied, “I take it Ms. Ami has filled you in on me, yes?” He nodded, and that’s where it all truly began.

You had cracked a joke, and he cracked up. You had asked such deep questions, ones that made it seem like you weren’t trying to garner answers from the Baseball Star Kenji Sato, but rather from just Kenji Sato himself. It was refreshing. His posture slouched as he joked around with you, and it was then he realized why Ami and you seemed to get along so well. You were…for lack of a better word, you were pleasant to be around.

Kenji only got closer to you. It seemed like you were everywhere he & Ami were, and wherever you were—you indulged in nice little conversations. Most of the time, he really only planned on saying hi—and most of the time, he and his girl just caved and started gossiping with you for a good thirty minutes.

Ami & Kenji had shared their personal numbers with you by the fifth time you three ran into each other, and eventually, you started hanging out outside of your own professions. Informal hangouts, at the most spontaneous of places. Kenji & Ami, who had recently revealed they were dating you—basically adopted you. Think of it like the “mama y papa” audio, but it’s you recording—and the other two are being mama and papa.

Of course, fate works in confusing ways. You ended up in a conflicting situation.

You noticed things you didn’t even notice about yourself, like how Kenji’s smile was a bit lopsided when he laughed but only around you two, or how Ami’s eyes sparkled most whenever you were hanging out in the local cinema and the light landed on her just right.

Your love for them did not hit you like a truck. It was like you knew. It was a pat on your shoulder, just to catch your attention. It did.

It gnawed at you like it did Ami.

Kenji, unlike the two of you, was positively clueless to the point that it was almost cute, as irritating as it was. He didn’t know he felt some type of way about you, he just thought the blush that formed in his cheeks was because of the fact Ami was near, not because you laughed so shamelessly and so prettily at a joke he came up with.

He loved Ami a lot, almost to the point it suffocated him, and he still did when he started feeling that same way about you. That’s when he realized. He realized that maybe, he liked you; but he was so confused. He had Ami, and he felt the same way about her, so why did he feel the same way about you?

It was then a thought went into his head. He likes Ami, and she has a suite reserved for her in his heart—but what if that suite was built for two?

Fortunately, when that thought comes into his head, Ami enters his bedroom and finally asks him to talk.

Unfortunately, it is one of the rare situations Ami doesn’t know how to begin, and Kenji is an amateur communicator.

“So.” Ami clicked her tongue. “So?” Kenji tilted his head, resting his chin on his closed fist as he sat on the edge of his bed— Ami right next to him, although the woman could not even look in his direction. Ami poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue, uncharacteristically unsure. She sighed and then started. “Them.”

Them.

You. Ami meant you. Kenji knew that from the get-go, it was always you, you, you. You were their soft spot, as much as they were each other’s soft spot. And you didn’t even know.

“What about them?” Kenji replied. Ami sucked in a breath and placed her hand over Kenji’s own. “I… I want—“ Ami stammered, scared; how would Kenji react? “I want to love them. I want them as much as I wanted to love, and still want to love, you.” Ami whispered. Kenji looked at his Ami, and he sighed, but it wasn’t in disbelief. No, instead, he was relieved. He looked at Ami and responded, “Me too.”

“Si- What? Since when?” The woman stammered. “Since they laughed at my joke that one time last month when we hung out at the festival.” He replied, not facing her but smiling nonetheless. “How about you?” He inquired.

“Since they delivered the papers I asked them to pick them up from the printing room,” Ami replied, still shocked. Kenji just laughed, sprawling himself out on the bed. Ami looked down on him, “Do you… Have you heard of polyamorous relationships? Of throuples?”

“Of course I have. It wasn’t really a common sight back in America, but it also wasn’t rare to just look at a group of people and go, ‘Oh, they definitely have group cuddles at night.’ “ Kenji laughed, and Ami scoffed.

“…Well, do you wanna try it out?” She bit her lip, trying to test the waters. “With them, I mean.” Kenji looked at Ami, then at the ceiling. Then, back at Ami—and back to the ceiling. “Well, fuck.” He groaned,but Ami could hear the crack of a smile. “It wouldn’t hurt, right?”

Ami shook her head. “I don’t think so. Not if it’s them.”

“You’re so corny.”

Ami & Kenji invited you out the following week, and three hours before the prior hangout, they were both freaking out over how to properly ask you about it. Mina had to intervene a bit. They were disturbing Chiho, after all.

With bated breath and flowers in both of their palms, they watched as you walked into the restaurant and greeted them. You slid into the empty booth, sitting across from them as you questioned why they had decided to meet you here so suddenly.

Ami wanted to slowly guide you into it, but Kenji wanted you to join as soon as possible. He interrupted his girlfriend, blurting out how they ‘wanted you to be their girlfriend because you’re really cool and would fit right in’

Ami looked at him like he had grown two heads. You fixed your collar as you processed his words in shock, and then—finally, you quietly accepted.

“I’d like that.” You whispered before Ami could tear through Ken. Their heads snapped in your direction, Ami’s eyes widened beyond belief and Kenji with the biggest grin you had ever seen him don. “Are you serious? Are— Are you certain?” Ami nagged. You shrugged and nodded. “I mean, I’ve... I’ve liked,” You really, truly, and utterly meant love—but that.. was scary. “I’ve liked you two for a while now—and if you’ll have me, I’d love to join your relationship.” You concluded. Kenji’s grin got impossibly wider, “So it was that easy?!” He exclaimed, and Ami smacked him upside the head. You laughed. Kenji did too, & Ami’s eyes creased the way you always loved, as a bright smile made its way to her face too. She looked at you, a bit unsure, but nonetheless determined.

“We’re all new to this. Let’s take it slow, okay?” You nodded. Kenji only raised his hand and went, “Waiter! Can we get some drinks in here? For a celebration!”

Looking at Kenji’s toothy smile, and Ami’s content expression, you perked up. You had waited for your turn at the rollercoaster of love, and now you were buckled in. It would be a hell of a ride.

Ami and Kenji will run you ragged (positive) adapting to their love languages. Kenji is very physical, he likes to give you two back hugs, and he does them way too often than he should. Ami, however, is more of a quiet lover, but you know she loves you. Your proof? The fact she orders for you and gets it right all the time, the way there’s always food made when Kenji and you sleep in—and the tender way your hair is combed when you first sleep in the same bed as them.

Her love language is acts of service if you couldn’t tell.

Ami & Kenji, in contrast to other throuples, usually schedule dates where all three of you can spend time with each other. They want to spend as much time with you as they can, both being as busy as they can be—with Kenji being a part of the Giants and also literally Ultraman, and Ami being a renowned journalist, there is not a day where they yearn for you three to reunite once more. Of course, while Kenji is busy—Ami and you always cuddle, and vice versa, but they truly prefer three-way dates. Triple the love, Kenji says.

When you met Chiho, she put her Ultraman mask on you first thing. You laughed and placed it back onto her head—stating that she fit it much better than you did. Kenji joined in, too. The two of you played with Chiho, not knowing that Ami, in her study, was watching over you three: love clouded her eyes as she watched Kenji lift Chiho up, her Ultraman mask on, as you, the ‘villain’, cowered in fear of the mighty superhero she was.

Chiho clung to the three of you like glue after that. All she knew was that Mr. Kenji and Mama loved you as much as they loved each other. That was enough for her to love you even more.

You and Ami aren’t that stupid. You both know who Ultraman truly is—you both know what Kenji’s hiding. even if you aren’t admitting it. You just both remember to shower him with a little more love when he takes a nastier beating.

It takes Kenji five months to finally confirm it, though. He says he’s Ultraman and he can’t even look you both in the eyes. His pretty skin is bruised, and his eye is beaten black. You and Ami look at each other, then at him.

The two of you treat him tenderly, an ice bath having been prepared. He swears he’s in heaven when he sees his two sweethearts lean over the bathtub to give him kisses—a kiss from you on the left, and a kiss from Ami on the right. He asks you both to join him and you shut him down. Boyfriend or not, an ice bath is an ice bath… and an ice bath is freakishly, freakishly cold.

That same night, you lure Kenji into bed, Ami already tucked into the blankets as she opens up Netflix and smiles at the two of you. Kenji takes his place in the middle, ready to be coddled because the Lord knows he needs it with how stressed he is.

You place a hand on his chest to give him a kiss on the forehead, and Ami rests her head on his shoulder. Kenji can’t even focus on the movie, he can only focus on the two of you. He wonders if the two of you feel the same way he does; he already has his answer: Yes.

He feels so loved.

#kenji sato x reader #kenji x reader #ken x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ami wakita #ami wakita x reader #ami x reader #ultraman rising x reader #ultraman #ultraman rising #ultraman 2024 #ultraman rising 2024 #ultraman x reader #ultraman kenji sato #ultraman ami wakita #ultraman emi #chiho wakita

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sommerregenjuniluft · 5 months ago

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@jegulus-microfic june 5th — more — 1108words — cw: reg has some pretty explicit dirty fantasies for a moment or two for @honeybcj and all the other james dad bod enjoyers out there<3

Regulus is sitting in his lifeguard chair, eyes trained on the long pool where people are swimming their laps. Nevermind he isn’t even on shift. Over the last few weeks Regulus has signed himself up for more shifts than ever, much to the surprise of their staff manager. Pandora too. They’ve stocked up on sunscreen and went shopping for new cute swimwear and then devoted their last college summer to spending every minute in the presence of piss covered ground, soggy fries and chlorine smelling air.

All for the sole purpose of making eyes at a beautiful couple and their toddler half the day. Or, not-couple, as Pandora has found out in passing, much to both their delight. The parents of little Harry are divorced, or not together anymore, but they still seem to get along well enough, regularly meeting up to come here and spend their days in the water. Lily, a gorgeous redhead with bright eyes and a sweet smile that occasionally makes Pandora squirm in her place and redden in the cheeks more fiercely than any sunburn.

And then there’s James. Tall, dark haired, in his mid to end twenties, always grinning, tanned, insanely sexy and funny James.

The sun is already low now and Lily and Harry have already gone home. On the days James doesn’t take the toddler home with him, he often stays a little longer to get some swimming in. Or just to take a nap on one of the chairs, molten popsicle dripping down and into the hairs on his stomach. His belly rising and falling in regular intervals, full lips parted, dark mob of hair a downright mess and the legs of his bathing shorts hiked so far up it should be forbidden.

The white fabric of it is drenched when James heaves himself out of the pool and shakes out his sopping hair.

Regulus’ eyes follow greedily as the older man picks up his towel and dries himself off. James rummages for his water bottle and then tips his head back and gulps. His throat is bobbing and he’s so overly enthusiastic with it that something dribbles out at the sides and along his neck. Regulus feels himself stir in his own swim shorts and he absently gnaws on his lower lip.

He has already perfectly well resigned himself to the fact that he will be an admirer from afar because how do you even walk up to a young dad and tell him you’d very much like to find out just how much of a daddy he is without overstepping multiple boundaries.

That is before Regulus gets pulled from his perverse thoughts of getting fucked deep into the mattress and stubble burn on his jaw and licking over a nipple circled by chest hair when suddenly said object of his fantasies is walking up to him, eyes squinting against the sun.

He comes to a stop in front of Regulus’ high stool and wraps his hand around the ladder railing next to Regulus’ leg, his shoulder muscle bunching deliciously.

Regulus’ brain is currently projecting an Error404.

“Hi, sorry for disturbing you,” James says with a warm smile. To Regulus. The hot dad is talking to Regulus. “You can totally say No I was just thinking I should reapply,” he waves the bottle of sunscreen in his big hand, “and I need someone to get my back.”

Regulus just gawks, unable to form a coherent thought. There’s a dark mole right over James’ thick left eyebrow and Regulus wants to kiss it. His nose is a little crooked and his stubble looks so obscene from up close Regulus can’t help but imagine what it would feel like against the inside of his thigh, the crease of his ass.

James’ eyebrows raise and he frowns mildly, “You don’t have to, of course. I can ask someone else, it’s no iss—”

“No,” Regulus blurts, probably too quickly. He licks his lips. “I’ll do it,” he offers, his voice cracking embarrassingly, before clambering down his chair. Heat crawls up into Regulus’ cheeks and down his collarbones and he clears his throat.

A gust of realization flits over James’ face and then he grins, shamelessly. Regulus swallows. “Oh, so you’re the cute College kid Lily told me was ogling me.”

Regulus makes a panicked noise in the back of his throat, sputtering slightly.

“You really are pretty,” James murmurs, ducking closer. “I wear glasses usually, ’m sorta blind without them, really. It’s lovely getting to see you up close finally.”

“Oh,” Regulus nods, dumbly.

“What’s your name, love?”

“Regulus.”

James hums, repeating his name, slowly letting it roll over his tongue and Regulus shivers.

“I’m James by the way.”

Regulus nods again but he knew that already.

“So,” James cocks his head, “I was promised a slathering of sunscreen?”

And Regulus does just that. He lets James squirt the cool, milky white fluid on his hands and then begins rubbing it into tan skin. James is warm and sturdy under his fingers and when Regulus gets to his neck, adorned by a thin, golden chain, James lets his head loll to the side with a groan. Regulus has to work hard not to let his cock react to it.

When James turns around he has his lower lip trapped between his teeth and is watching Regulus with lidded eyes. There’s still some residue on Regulus’ palms and when James sees that, he takes his wrists slowly and brings his hands down over his bicep as well.

Regulus is pretty sure he just sighed a little too loudly but he’s too transfixed to care.

James hums once Regulus is done. “Thank you,” he says, tucking one of Regulus’ curls back. “I’ll let you get back to your shift then,” James mumbles, voice low and playful, “Wouldn’t want to distract you from saving lifes.”

“I’m not on shift,” Regulus replies, stupidly, basically exposing himself. He needs to get a grip.

A happy smile spreads over James’ face, “Well, then why don’t you come join me so I can keep looking at you without my glasses from up close?”

Regulus hesitates for a moment, dumbfounded by the amount of active flirting and compliments.

“I’ll share my fruit and you can tell me all about your courses and that blonde friend of yours that seems to have a thing for Harry’s mum,” James winks.

A small laugh tumbles out of Regulus, “Yeah, she’s ridiculously down bad for Lily.”

“Oh, people who live in glass houses, love…” James smirks, starting for his spot next to the pool.

Regulus blushes a deep pink as he follows behind him.

#jegulus microfic #dad james potter #what if i wrote the smut in a second part.......#and then the pandalily smut in a third......*eyes emoji*#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #sunseeker #starchaser #jegulus fic #lune’s tiny fic

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knoepfl · 15 days ago

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Perfectly Imperfect Love

Here we are again this time with our lovely Dottore! I noticed there seem to be a lot of people who like him (including myself) so this was a must! If you enjoy this and/or want to see other characters check out the Masterlist or/and write a comment or request for a character and I will be happy to do them!^^ Again the inspiration and the picture was from @devotion-disorder so check them out!!! Have fun^^

Masterlist

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The sterile walls of the lab seemed colder than usual. At first, Il Dottore—the infamous Harbinger—was amused. His sharp gaze scanned the room filled with photos plastered from wall to wall. Dozens of them. Every picture contained your smiling face, radiating warmth and joy.

It wasn’t unusual for Dottore to obsess over things that intrigued him—and you were one of them. But then his expression stiffened. You weren’t alone in these photos. Another figure stood beside you in each one, arms draped over your shoulder, fingers intertwined with yours. They smiled down at you like they owned you.

The corners of Dottore’s mouth twitched as irritation boiled beneath his skin.

How interesting… What kind of experiment is this?

5 Minutes in:

He stood there, silent, his gaze dragging across each photo in unnerving detail. At first, he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his red, glinting eyes.

“Hm… Strange,” he muttered. “How perfectly inconvenient.”

Dottore chuckled, a sound both sharp and dangerous. “A foolish attempt to get under my skin, is that it? How quaint.” He tapped his gloved finger against his chin, observing the way your head leaned against the stranger’s shoulder in one image, your hand caught in theirs in another.

“Sloppy work… But I can’t deny, it’s convincing.” His voice dropped to a whisper, a smile still gracing his face. “I wonder if you’d let them touch you like this.”

The mask of indifference cracked for just a moment as something vile flickered in his gaze—something possessive.

1 Hour in:

He was still standing in the same spot, staring at the photos with an unsettling intensity. The small grin on his lips had twisted into a sneer.

“Did you think you could run from me?” His voice dripped with venom, though he directed it more toward the photos than you.

He crossed his arms, tapping his fingers impatiently against his bicep. “These are fake… They must be. You wouldn’t betray me. Not after everything.”

His heart pounded beneath the cold exterior, irritation morphing into something more dangerous—doubt. And he hated it.

Dottore pulled one of the photos off the wall, his hands tightening until the paper crumpled under his grasp. Why does it bother me? Why does this stranger in the photo seem more real with each passing second?

A low, bitter chuckle escaped him. “What a fascinating experiment,” he muttered to himself, though his eyes betrayed his growing frustration. “I wonder… how much longer until I break?”

3 Hours in:

Dottore’s breathing was uneven now, each exhale coming in short bursts.

The room seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in as his mind spiraled. His hands tugged at the mask over his face, as if trying to stop the intrusive thoughts that gnawed at him. He muttered your name under his breath—again and again—like a mantra to keep himself sane.

“It isn’t real,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “It can’t be. You would never leave me… You wouldn’t.”

He dragged his gloved hands down his face, nails biting into his skin through the material. His grin was wide, teeth bared like a wolf, but his eyes were wild—unfocused.

“And if it were real…” His voice dipped into a low, dangerous hum. “Then I’ll simply… correct it. Remove the imperfection. Yes… I could fix it.”

He laughed quietly, the sound brittle and laced with mania. He would find a way to erase whoever thought they could take you from him. He was the only one worthy of having you. Not them.

Never them.

6+ Hours in:

By now, the Dottore standing in that room was a different creature entirely.

He sat in the corner, legs sprawled out as he gazed at the photos on the walls, his mask lying discarded beside him. His grin stretched too wide, teeth gleaming beneath the dim light, and his red eyes shimmered with twisted delight.

“It’s not real…” he whispered, as if trying to convince himself. “Not real. Not real. Not real.”

But even if it was a lie, Dottore didn’t care anymore. His obsession had consumed him whole, leaving no room for rational thought. He pressed a hand to one of the photos, tracing your image with unsettling tenderness.

“Mine,” he murmured, his voice soft but unwavering. “You are mine. You’ve always been mine.” His words felt like a promise—and a threat.

He sat still for a moment longer, before his smile widened. “Ah… but I suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

He stood abruptly, brushing off his coat with a calmness that didn’t match the crazed look in his eyes. “We’ll have to fix this. You won’t need them when you have me.”

He tilted his head, as if imagining your face when you saw him next—saw the mess he would make to bring you back to his side. “I’ll erase this blemish… and you’ll love me. Like you always should have.”

The Aftermath:

When the door to the room finally creaked open, you barely had a second to react.

Dottore was on you instantly, his gloved hands grasping your arms with a firm but oddly gentle grip. His eyes shimmered with a mixture of glee and relief, the madness beneath them bubbling just below the surface.

“Ah, there you are,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “I knew you’d come back to me.” He pressed closer, ignoring the way your body stiffened under his touch.

Before you could say a word, his hands moved to cup your face, his smile a cruel mockery of affection. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Those photos… they don’t mean anything. They were a mistake—an… illusion.”

His laugh was soft, but it held an edge sharp enough to cut. “You won’t need anyone else. Not anymore.”

And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen into Dottore’s web.

There was no escape from him now—no way to free yourself from the twisted obsession that bound you to him. Because in his mind, you were his.

Forever.

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#fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #dottore x you #dottore #dottore x reader #dottore genshin #yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #Dottore yandere #yandere dottore #yandere boyfriend #Dottore #genshin fanfic #Genshin Impact dottore

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year ago

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You Understand Me Now

Pairing: Franklin Saint x Black!Bratty!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. Smut, PWP, cursing, PIV, fingering (female receiving), size kink, some dirty talk, all consensual. Daddy kink. Toxic smut. Mention of jail, drug use, and drinking. Angst if you squint. Established relationship.

Summary: While Franklin feels mounting pressure from setting up new business, he has to track you down and set you right.

Word Count: 3,673k

A/N: Hello brainrot, my old friend. Who needs sleep when there's smut to be had? I had TOO much fun writing this. It was written in a daze so all mistakes are mine. I just need some act right from Franklin!!! Enjoy if you do too! Thank you for so much love on my Franklin fics! I love yall. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @notapradagurl7 @miyuhpapayuh @henneseyhoe @mybonafidefeelings @blackerthings

You were shaking your ass like there was no tomorrow. The music was thumping through the floors like a live beast. You felt it in your chest. Alcohol was coursing through your system. It gave everything a hazy, bright glow. It was too loud to think and yet all roads lead to Franklin Saint.

You had been cooped up in an empty house by yourself. What use was all the shit Franklin brought in if he wasn’t there to enjoy it with you? He would leave early in the morning and not return until long after you’d gone to sleep. Your initial reaction was that he was cheating, but you knew that wasn’t the case.

You’d see Franklin dead before he cheated on you. And he’d see hell freeze over before the thought crossed his mind. You knew he loved you. He wasn’t the greatest at showing it and dammit, it hurt.

Did that mean that you had to suffer? No. No, it did not. You called up your girl and went to her place to get dressed. The hardest part about dating Franklin was all the secrets. All the lies. They sometimes got twisted in the careful web you weaved. Over time, it became easier to not leave the house at all.

Franklin was turning you into a hermit and you wanted to hate him for it. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a cell in your body that could hate that man. So you took your anger out on him in other ways. It was an insidious need gnawing in the back of your mind.

Sometimes he’d walk in with that tired grin. Too tired to give you a proper hug and a kiss. Like you weren’t worth the effort it took to check in and ask about your day. You knew that he was in the middle of important business dealings. But lately, you were feeling neglected.

Not today.

At your girl’s house, she told you she missed you and your wild days at wild parties, living it up, gone off of the weed, and having real fun. She reminded you that you were still young and you were one of the lucky ones. You didn’t have a baby to look after.

“You mu’fuckin’ right,” you said. You nodded your head, the idea taking shape the longer you sat with it. Thirty minutes later, you were both dressed like you didn’t have a man. You wore a very short skirt and off the shoulder top. Your coarse hair was pulled into a high ponytail. Your makeup was flawless.

It was practically gone now. Still you danced. Still you partied like there was no tomorrow. You left your pager at home. You didn’t care what Franklin had to say. So you shook and danced and waved off try-too-hard niggas with grabby hands.

You clasped your friend’s hand and pulled her away from yet another man in your business. Damn, couldn’t you just go out and dance? Let loose?

“I see you havin’ real fun,” you heard above you.

You gasped and straightened out. You hadn’t seen him. Felt him. Or heard as he approached. One minute, your eyes were closed dancing to Flashlight. The next minute, Franklin was staring down at you with his nose slightly flared.

“How’d you find me?” You asked.

You looked around him and noticed Leon standing by the door looking sullen. “I can get to you any time I want,” he said.

You folded your arms. The night’s festivities were catching up with you. Sweat pasted your shirt to your body. Little frizzes of hair escaped your ponytail. Your feet ached from spending hours on the makeshift dance floor. You were out of breath, staring at Franklin and wondering where his state of mind was at.

“I’m here trying to handle bidness and this is how you act?”

You sucked your teeth and rolled your eyes. “The hell was I supposed to do?” You had to yell to be heard over the funk music. “Sit at home and wait for yo Black ass to come around?”

Franklin rolled his neck. He was stressed out. You took a step forward. You longed to wrap your arms around him to hug and kiss him. To make it all better. But fuck that. Your anger was a familiar coat you threw on.

“Let’s go,” he said. He dismissed your comments altogether. He turned and you faced the wide expanse of his broad back. His black polo shirt highlighted the slope of his shoulders, his sexy walk. The length of his legs were their own turn on.

You didn’t follow him. He moved behind a dancing couple. He half turned and inclined his head. You turned around yourself. Two can play that game. You headed towards the back of the party.

You were gaining attention. Those who weren’t smoking weed, were looking at you over the tops of cups. Others were smokin’ that stupid ass crack pipe. Franklin grabbed your hand and stopped you in your tracks.

“Don’t fuckin’ embarass me. Let’s go,” he said, his whispered baritone fanning across your ear. You took a deep breath to steady yourself. Your body always reacted to him. Right now, your clit was throbbing thinking of what he was planning on doing to you. He hadn’t touched you in a week and it was driving you insane.

“You can’t tell me what to do, Franklin,” you said.

Franklin stopped looking around and fixed you with a glare so severe, it’d hurt less if he slapped you. “The fuck you just say to me?”

“You can’t tell me what to fuckin’ do, Franklin.” You emphasized his name, drawing out the syllables.

“Man, get yo ass in the car,” he said.

“Fuck you, nigga!” The rage that you cloaked yourself in was comforting in its heat. Spurned on by the alcohol, you poked at his chest. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” You slapped at his chest.

“I’m only going to say this one more time, get in the fuckin’ car,” he said. He leaned in close to you, that calm demeanor slipping back behind his eyes. He kissed you on the cheek. A quick, dispassionate kiss that only served to piss you off even more.

You opened your mouth to say something, but Franklin gripped your upper arm. He pushed you forward, around dancing people giving you the stink eye, past Leon with a little smirk on his face, and outside. The brutal LA night was cold and unforgiving against your damp skin.

“Get off me, nigga!” You yanked your arm out of his grip. He talked about you embarrassing him. But he was the one who dragged you out of the party like some baby.

Leon snickered. “Damn, you let her talk to you like that?”

Franklin took a deep breath, looking towards the sky. “For one fuckin’ day, can any of ya’ll act right? I’m sick of this shit.”

“I know you ain’t talkin’, Leon,” you said. Alcohol emboldened you. You felt invincible. Like you could hang onto a star and fly through the universe. You were ready with a scathing remark.

Franklin stood in front of you, blocking your view of Leon who had squared up, ready to pop off. Franklin’s nose flared, his mouth stuck in a grimace. “Car, now,” he said.

Oh shit. Maybe you went a little too far. “Sure thing, Franklin,” you said with a sweet smile.

You heard Franklin blow out a deep breath. “You got a way to get home?” You heard Franklin ask Leon as you walked away. You folded your arms and trudged the short distance to the curb.

You reached the car, sliding in and putting your head against the headrest. You glared at Franklin as he said goodbye to Leon. Leon was smirking. You bet they were laughing it up at your expense. At your feelings.

It paled in comparison to the lust you felt for Franklin. He walked towards the car. He was so different after he got out of jail. Tougher. Harder. There were moments where you would catch the Franklin you first fell in love with. The optimistic boy you would follow anywhere.

Franklin was a man after jail. He picked up an edginess. A shorter temper. You couldn’t tell him what to do and that made him sexier to you. He was never a weak man. But now, he was strength personified.

He climbed into the car in silence. He turned the car on and peeled out of the projects. “Not gon’ say shit?” You asked.

Franklin didn’t look at you. He kept his eyes on the road, obeying all of the traffic lights. There was no reason to give LAPD an excuse to pull you over. Not that they always needed one. Driving while Black was practically an invitation to the cops to fuck with you.

Franklin turned into his garage. You watched and listened as he closed the garage door behind you. He turned the car off and hopped out of the car. He came around to your side and opened the door.

You hated the silent treatment. It was like he had ice water in his veins. You got out of the car and stood in the open door. Arms folded. Staring across a chasm at Franklin that you couldn’t cross. Couldn’t access. You weren’t welcome.

“Sick of this shit,” you muttered.

“Get yo ass in the room and I’ll deal with you in a minute,” he said.

“No, fuck you,” you said.

That vindictive streak in you wanted to push him. To push him past the point of breaking him.

“I don’t need this fuckin’ shit! I got enough shit to deal with than hearin’ my girl shakin’ her ass for anyone to see!” His voice rose from a deadly calm to outright yelling.

“I was just dancin’,” you said with a shrug.

“Yo ass don’t listen too good, huh?” Franklin grinned cruelly and laughed. He grabbed you by the arm and tugged you inside the house. The house was lit up like a Christmas tree, as if he’d searched every room for you.

You didn’t have a chance to appreciate the sentiment as he tugged you through the house, towards your room. He pushed you onto the bed and watched you flop.

You pushed up onto your elbows but Franklin grabbed your hips and yanked your body down the bed to the edge. Your ass hung off of it. He used his leg to push yours further apart.

“Franklin?” You asked. Your voice wobbled but not with fear. You were so turned on, you didn’t trust your voice.

A sharp slap rung throughout the room. You cried out and clutched at the bed spread. Heat blossomed on your nearly exposed ass. One sharp jerk later, and it was over your hips, pushed up.

“This what you wanted right? Why yo ass was actin’ up?” He asked.

He rubbed the area that he slapped and you hissed. You were at an awkward angle. Half hanging off of the bed like you were, your heels were the only thing sort of keeping you upright. You stood on your tiptoes to brace yourself. Franklin standing in between your legs threw your balance off slightly.

Franklin ran his hands down the crack of your ass, down towards your pussy. He moved your skimpy panties aside and pressed his thumb into your entrance. You cooed and collapsed onto the bed.

“This pussy right there? Mine,” he said. He slapped your ass with his free hand and you gasped. The dichotomy of him slipping his fingers inside of you and the heat of the slap was too much already.

“Baby…”

“Naw, don’t baby me. It was Franklin earlier, wasn’t it?” He asked. He removed his thumb and quickly replaced it with his index finger. He grunted and pushed a second finger in.

“Oh, baby,” you moaned. He widened his fingers, preparing you for him.

“What happened to all that shit you was talkin’?” He asked. He leaned over over, driving his fingers in deeper. You moaned and clutched the bedspread past the point of your fingers cramping.

“I’m sorry,” you said. You moved your ass in a circle, in tune with how Franklin pumped his fingers in and out of you. As long as he kept doing that, you’d give him any answer he was looking for.

“I don’t believe you,” he whispered against your ear. He leaned back and added a third finger.

“Oh, fuck!” You moaned. Your body jerked and twitched as if you ate a live wire. Your orgasm ripped through you. Each wave hit you harder and faster, dragging you under its sweet release.

Franklin withdrew his fingers and you heard him licking each one. You huffed. This man was going to be the death of you.

Franklin massaged your ass, bringing attention back to the lingering pain. “I just missed you, baby,” you said.

“Mhmm,” he said. He took a few deep breaths. His hands grabbed a handful of your ass. He made quick work of his pants, shedding it in nearly one fell swoop. He rubbed his thick, hardening dick along your slick slit.

You bit your lip and moaned. “Pleasepleaseplease,” you said and wiggled your ass against him.

He grabbed your left wrist and pulled it behind your back. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable either. You twisted your wrist but Franklin didn’t give you much room. He learned forward, his polo shirt rustling against your shirt.

He brought his lips down to your ear. He licked the shell of it. Placed kisses behind your ear, into that sensitive spot. You shivered. Your desperate pussy clenched around nothing. He wrapped your hair around his fingers and pulled your head to the side for better access.

You ached. You were so empty, you could cry. Literally, tears gathered behind your closed eyelids. You needed to be filled up by him. Consumed by him. You wanted to end where he began and begin where he ended.

“The next time you need some dick, you come fuckin’ find me,” he said. He pushed into you slowly, stopping every so often so that you could get acclimated to him.

“Oh, yes, Daddy,” you whined as he fulfilled your silent request. “Pleaseplease,” you muttered over and over.

“Do you know my heart stopped comin’ here, callin’ for you like a mu’fuckin’ idiot? I called your pager. Shit was beepin’ by our bed. Anythin’ could’ve happened to you!”

He seemed to forget his plan because he started to increase his thrusts. Whatever he gave, you took. You bounced back on him, matching his rhythm. He fucked you into the bed, pushing down on your arm behind your back.

You were shoved ever more onto your tiptoes. Your right hand searched for purchase on the bed. Anything to brace you against his savage thrusts. It felt like he was pouring all of his frustration out into you. You gripped the bed spread and chewed on a piece of it.

There was a low, delicious burn inching up your legs. You shook violently, crying out as he hit that spot that only he could reach. Only he could touch. Only him.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you choked out. He pushed the very air from your lungs. Each thrust knocked a little more loose. You panted against him.

“Oh fuck, right there,” you whined. Your ass clapped against his hips and the wet slap surprised another orgasm out of you. You stuttered over his name as you came, your pussy contracting and flooding his dick.

“Look at you, can’t even hold on to that fucked up attitude,” he said. He licked your neck and nibbled at a sensitive bit. You shuddered and tried to curl in on yourself.

“Naw,” he breathed.

He slipped out of you and you cried in earnest. Tears slid down your cheeks. You groaned. Words weren’t working right for you.

Franklin manhandled you. He flipped you onto your back and pulled you by your arms. You sat up and flopped against his body. He gripped your chin and made you look at him.

“Talk a big game, no follow through, huh?” He asked. Bastard. But you got what you wanted.

“I’ll do better, Daddy,” you said. You gave him puppy dog eyes.

Franklin grinned and pecked your lips. “I know you will,” he whispered.

He tugged your shirt off, revealing your bra. Franklin sucked your nipple through the lacy material and you bucked off of the bed. “Shit!”

The sensation was both there and wasn’t there. You registered a barrier between his mouth and your nipple but you didn’t really feel it.

Franklin thrusted into you, hard. You gasped, your mouth hanging open. He climbed onto the bed, getting into a better position. He tore off his polo shirt and tossed it onto the floor.

He laid over you, crushing your body to the bed. He used one hand to spread you completely open for him. The other hand, grabbed your right hand and held it above you. Your fingers intertwined with his. He ground his hips into you, his dick disappearing inside of you.

His strokes were deep, brutal, and punishing. He wasn’t done being pissed at you. The thought should scare you. It should drive you right out of his bed. But no one else fucked you so completely. Made you feel so wanted and adored and like he needed to fuck you like a person needed air.

Every stroke hit that deep spot inside of you. Your knees closed around his hips. Your left hand scratched his back.

“That attitude shit stops,” he said as he made out with your titties. He pulled your cups down until they were under your breasts, pushing them up and into his eager mouth.

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned.

You felt the muscles in his back working as he pushed in and out of you. His dick stretched you right to the edge of pain. That fine line was delicate and he walked it well. Your hand traveled the length of his back, feeling all of the additional muscles and the dip of his back. The top of his ass that you couldn’t reach.

You closed your eyes as he rolled a nipple around his mouth.

“The last thing I need to fuckin’ worry about is you,” he said.

“Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath was failing you. Hell, you didn’t even know what he was saying at this point. You’d agree to just about anything at the moment. As long as he kept his strokes nice and deep like that.

You felt him in your chest. He pushed up and you couldn’t barely breathe. He was stuffing you full of him, feeding you his dick.

“You think this shit is cute and it ain’t! How the fuck it look that I can’t control my girl?”

You contracted against him. Another orgasm was building. His voice was so deep and raspy. And when he yelled, it was like unlocking a switch inside of you. You began to twitch again. Tears streamed down your face.

“I’m sorry! I hate being here without you,” you managed to croak out.

Fuck, you were so damn close. “Please Daddy, I’m so sorry. I’ll do better,” you said.

Franklin lifted his head from your titty. He stared into your eyes.

“Don’t you fuckin’ know how much I love you? Why do I have to prove it to you?” He asked, softly. So at odds with his pounding dick.

“You don’t!” You yelled. Your orgasm was just out of reach. So, so, sososososo close.

“Then why you like makin’ me mad?” He asked, his voice raised. Your jaw went slack as the orgasm finally tore through you like a tidal wave. You flopped and twitched, unable to hear or see anything as stars danced behind your eyelids.

Your convulsing pussy triggered Franklin’s orgasm. He pushed into you further, his cum splashing inside of you. You felt his dick twitch and pulse.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groaned. “You feel what you do to me?” He asked. He placed his head into the crook of your neck and panted.

“Yes, oh fuck yes,” you murmured.

“You do that to me,” he said. He kissed your jaw, your cheek. Your lips lazily found his and you kissed him with the last remaining breath in you. You felt light headed. You wanted to curl up like a cat at his feet. He rubbed your arms and kissed you as you floated back to your body.

As he softened, he pulled out of you. His thick cum eased out of you. Franklin rolled over onto his back with a contented sigh. He placed one hand behind his head. You rolled and tucked your body into his. He rubbed your back. You spread your right arm across his chest. A possessiveness taking over you.

He kissed your temple and looked at you. “Don’t you ever call me by my first name again,” he said. He turned to stare at the ceiling. His fingers never gave up their glide and and down your back.

You giggled sleepily. “Keep fuckin’ me like that and I won’t have to,” you said.

Franklin grabbed your right hand and brought it to his lips. “I gotta fuck you to keep you in line, is that it?” He asked.

“Somethin’ like that,” you said with a small giggle.

You were dragged kicking and screaming to sleep. You wanted to stay up and talk to him. Anything to keep hearing that sexy voice. Anything to keep him here with you longer. You were beyond worried that the moment you opened your eyes, he’d be gone again. Like a puff of smoke you couldn’t hold on to. He’d just slip through your fingers.

You were so blessedly fucked out, that your head emptied. You fell asleep to the thump of his heart. And you prayed. Prayed that he’d be there when you woke up.

Psst. There's more Franklin Fics! The Secret Franklin Saint Files

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Franklin Saint Files #Franklin Saint x Black!reader #Franklin Saint x Black reader #x Black reader #Franklin Saint x Fem!reader #Franklin Saint x Fem reader #Franklin Saint x Bratty!reader #Franklin Saint x Bratty reader #Franklin Saint x you #Franklin Saint x reader #Snowfall smut #Franklin Saint Smut #Snowfall fanfic #Snowfall fan fic #Snowfall fanfiction #Snowfall fan fiction

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rezwrites · 22 days ago

Note

hi! could u do a rio x f!reader enemies to lovers? maybe a detective au? and maybe smut if ur comfortable with it

Of course!

Warnings: 18+MDNI TW: very minor mention of murder/suicide cases, cursing, office sex, risky sex, mutual fingering

Eyes flickering between the case file and your computer you typed fervently shrill rings of the office phones outside your door and the clacking of your keyboard filled the silence of your mind as you worked away. This case was pretty simple this time around, thankfully.

“Knock knock,” her silvery voice invaded your senses. Immediate irritation painted your face as you looked up to see Rio leaning against your doorframe, a small box in her hands.

You’ve dealt with years of her atrocious arrogance. You wanted to knock her down a few pegs whenever she oversaw your cases and barked orders at you, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. Most interactions the two of you always ended in an argument. It has simmered down recently, but she still gets under your skin.

“Oh no.“ you stood up, rounding your desk, “This case isn’t anywhere near FBI jurisdiction what are you doing here?”

“Your chief asked me personally to work this case with you. Something about you do better when I’m around.” Rio’s lips ticked up.

Clenching your jaw you narrowed your eyes at her, “The case is over. I just finished the crime scene report and sent it over to the lawyer for the trial.”

“I’m only kidding.” She pushed herself off of the doorframe, “I just came by to see you and to give you these.” She held out the box of cookies, subconsciously fiddling with the side of the ribbon wrapped around the box.

This was the fourth time this month she came by with food. You turned her away every time, despite how good the desserts looked. You had to acknowledge her dedication, the tiredness in her features showing you that she did indeed put effort into these treats. Guilt started to gnaw at you now that you think about it but you steeled yourself before she saw you waver.

You glanced down at the cookies then at her, “definitely poisoned.” Taking the box and tossing it on your desk, you crossed your arms turning back to Rio, leaning back on your desk.

“They aren’t. I stayed up late to make them.” She frowned, picking up the box shoving it into your arms, “Just eat one.”

“Why do you want me to eat your food so insistently?” You gripped the side of the box slightly denting it.

“Because I want to know what you like.” Rio stared intensely into your eyes, it was a little unnerving. It was like her sepia orbs were searching for something. You could see the dark circles under her eyes from the lack of sleep.

Reigning yourself in, you straightened yourself out , “I like… telling you to get the fuck out my office.”

There’s small twinge of pain in your chest when she sighs defeatedly, shoulders slumped as she walked out your office without so much as a witty comeback. Some part of you hoped she’d come back, guilt building the longer she didn’t. The rest of the day passed unusually quiet, the cookies left on the edge of your desk taunting you.

Stepping into your home quite late you were greeted by, Jupiter, weaving himself through your legs, meowing shrilly as he leads you to his bowl to fill. Putting his food up after filling his bowl, exhaustion hit you like a truck. Deciding to skip dinner you grabbed the box of cookies you had haphazardly tossed on the kitchen table, making your way to your bedroom.

The shower made your body heavy with tiredness, finally ready to stop fighting it you slipped into bed. Jupiter jumped up snuggling his small, orange body into your side. Flipping open the box lid, you hesitate picking up a cookie. Eventually, you took a bite savoring the way it was soft and chewy as it melted in your mouth.

After a few cookies your fingers slid over a slip of paper at the bottom of the box. Picking up and flipping over the bright pink note, the words in large black ink.

Delicious, right? ;)

Your face heated up, crumping the note in your fist tossing it back in the box. Shoving the box to the edge of the bed, you turned everything off and went to sleep.

Looking at the evidence board you're wracking your brain. It seems to be a simple murder-suicide but something in your gut says otherwise and the evidence to support your hunch isn’t there.

“Ugh, great. Feds are here. Again.” Your coworker grunted out. It seems you weren’t the only one aggravated when FBI got involved. Looking over your shoulder you see your chief escorting Rio into the meeting room. Chief explaining that the case now falls to the FBI due to the victims being part of an international theft ring.

That same coworker started going on a rant, shocking everyone including Rio. Fussing about getting cases taken away. He even had the nerve to insinuate that Rio had connections to higher-ups since she was always being the one to take cases.

For all your issues with Rio you could never deny that she knows what she’s doing and that she handles herself well on the field. You have to admit that you have learned a few skills from her throughout the years. All her decorations and medals are deserved. You’d be damned if someone that doesn’t know her at all slander her hard work.

You sat there seething until you couldn’t take it anymore. Slamming your palms on the table, everyone turning their heads to you as you stared this worm of a man down, “Enough! I completely understand the frustrations but we don’t have the resources nor manpower like they do. They are way more equipped to deal with criminals like these than we are. In the end we should be thankful the FBI is here. The only reason she gets these cases is because she’s great at doing her job. If you think your tough shit then go out there and try to do it yourself rather than sitting on your ass and complaining!”

The chiefs booming voice silences the whole room before anyone else could start mouthing off. He commanded everyone to go blow off steam, specifically instructing you to hand Rio all the files, evidence and reports.

Relief washed over you once you entered your quiet office, the soft click of the door closing behind Rio. Taking a deep sigh, you began to calm down compiling everything case-related into a Manila folder.

“You just defended me?” Rio stood there stunned, breaking the silence.

“I’m the only one who gets to be an ass to you.” You retorted quickly, a bite still evident in your tone.

“Aww, when did kitty get rid of her claws?” She teased, stepping towards you. Glancing over her shoulders you checked to make sure the blinds to your office windows were closed.

“Ugh, five minutes. Shut up for five minutes.” You exasperated.

A smirk grew in on her face, “I think I can find a way to occupy myself. Besides he did say to let off steam.” You watched as her eyes darted between your lips and eyes. Rio hovered in front of you, her warm breath fanning over your face. You leaned up initiating a gentle kiss. She cupped your face deepening the kiss, passionately. Breaths heaving as your fists twisted in her blazer, pulling her closer. Her hands fell to your side thumbs tracing patterns, sliding her thigh between your legs.

“I hate you,” you rasped out in between kisses, “I want to hate you.”

“I don’t want you to hate me. I never did.” she pulled back.

Can I?” Her fingertips stopped at the edge of the waistband of your slacks, her other hand on the small of your back keeping you upright. Eyes glossing over your face for any reaction.

“Yes.” You breathed out , “may I return the favor?”

“‘F course.”

Her hand slipped into your pants fingers ghosting over your sensitive bud, hips jerking for more pressure. Undoing her belt you’re sure she felt the same as her breaths stuttered when your fingers grazed her clit, drawing light circles.

“Already so wet from kissing?” Rio lightly mocked, running her fingers over your slick slit. As her fingers eased into you a low groan escaped you.

“Hush. You have no room to tease.” Your palm pushed against her as a digit slowly sunk into her own wetness making it easy. She could bury her face in the crook of your neck all she wants but you still feel the vibrations as she moaned when you added another finger.

Wrapping your legs around the back of her knees, you tried to keep your noises at a minimum as her fingers pumped in and out of your fluttering walls. Your movements faltered minimally before returning with fervor, both of your palms rubbing each others clits.

“I got you.” Whispering in her ear when you felt her knees quiver, curling your free arm around her. Her soft lips return to yours, nipping at your lower lip.

Curling your fingers into her warm depths, hitting the spongy spot her body started to shake. Holding onto her tighter you worked her through her orgasm, as she kissed you harder muffling herself, you swallowed her moans eagerly.

Releasing herself from your lips to breathe you bit her shoulder to fight your screams, as white hot pleasure crashed through you. Rio curled her fingers, an extra shock coursing through your body. Both of your shaky bodies stilled, coming down from your highs. Removing yourselves from each other you grabbed some tissues to clean up, your facing heating up when you turned back around to see her sucking your wetness off of her fingers.

“You ate the cookies, right?” Lifting your head to see her proudly smiling, “I may have added a love potion.”

“Stop,” you laughed, lightly pushing her shoulder, tucking her shirt back into she pants. Rio chuckled pecking your lips, smoothing your shirt.

“Let me take you on a lunch date.” Rio suggested starting to move over to grab the file. You grabbed her arm not wanting to leave your proximity yet, “Rio I-”

She looked at you quizzically as your words died out. You wanted to tell her how you felt, no doubt she felt the same after what just transpired but you still somewhat felt it wasn’t the right time.

“I love you too.” your eyes widened, a smile growing on both your faces,” Now let’s go get lunch.”

#rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal x female reader #Rio Vidal x fem!reader #rio vidal x you #rio vidal x y/n #rezwrites #tw: murder #tw: suicide

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rispwr · 1 month ago

Text

expect the unexpected - myg - os

pairings : idol! myg x bartender! reader

sypnosis: meeting an idol at a bar as a bartender? Especially the fact that it was your favourite idol, was definitely was not in your expectations, knowing well the media is all around you both.

word count: 5k+

contents/warnings: smut, ykyk, idol x fan, s2l, fast burn or whatever u call it, unprotected sxx, public media hate?, full of suprises, pwp, oral(fem recieving), slight tit play,

Not proofread

The pounding bass of the club reverberated through my chest as I worked my way behind the bar, pouring drinks with precision and a smile, despite how tired I was feeling. The club was packed tonight, bodies swaying under neon lights, laughter and chatter mixing with the pulsing music. It was another typical Friday night, one where I’d usually lose myself in the rhythm of the job, letting the hustle and bustle distract me from anything going on in my personal life.

But tonight, something felt different. There was an odd tension in the air, or maybe it was just my own nerves after hearing earlier in the day that there was going to be a high-profile guest at the club. I didn’t know who it would be, but the manager had warned us to be on our best behavior. I usually was, but the anticipation had been gnawing at me all evening, especially as the hours ticked closer to closing time.

I wiped down the counter for the hundredth time that night, glancing at the crowd every now and then, hoping to spot the mystery guest. Maybe it would be someone cool, like an actor or a famous DJ. Little did I know, my whole world was about to shift in the next few minutes.

The door opened, and I noticed someone walk in, but it wasn’t just anyone. It was him.

Min Yoongi.

My heart skipped a beat, then pounded furiously in my chest. Oh my god, it’s really him. Min Yoongi, the man I’d admired for years, the genius behind so many of my favorite songs. His music had been my escape, my motivation, my comfort on so many days. And now, here he was, stepping into the very club where I worked. My hands were shaking just thinking about it.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry, as I watched him casually approach the bar. His presence commanded the space, even though he moved with such a laid-back aura, his black leather jacket clinging to him effortlessly. He glanced around briefly before his eyes landed on me, and I froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Stay calm, Y/N. You’re a professional. You can’t freak out right now.

"Good evening, sir. What can I get you?" I somehow managed to ask, though my voice came out shaky. My palms were sweating, and I was sure my face was flushed.

Yoongi’s gaze softened as a small smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Does the drink come with the bartender making it?" he joked, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I chuckled nervously, trying to play it off like I wasn’t completely losing it on the inside. "You’re very funny, sir," I replied, forcing a smile. Act normal, Y/N, act normal.

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart racing again. "What can you recommend?" he asked, leaning slightly on the counter, his eyes still locked on mine.

I was momentarily speechless, my brain scrambling to function. What was a good drink?

I bit my lip, trying to focus despite the intensity of his gaze. "Aperol Spritz," I blurted out, my voice still shaky. It was a safe choice, something light but classy. I was hoping he’d go for it.

"That sounds good," he said, giving me a warm, gummy smile that nearly melted me on the spot. His smile—it was even more beautiful in person than I’d ever imagined.

I quickly turned to grab the ingredients, my hands trembling slightly as I started mixing the drink. I could feel his eyes on me, and it was driving me insane. The way he leaned against the bar, so casual, so effortlessly cool—it was like a scene out of a movie, one I never thought I’d be part of.

As I focused on mixing the drink, I heard him speak again, his voice low and curious. "What time’s your shift end?"

My hand faltered for a moment, nearly spilling the Aperol. "Uh, 10 p.m.," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was thudding in my chest. Why was he asking about my shift?

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself, focusing on the drink to avoid looking directly at him.

"May I take you out?" His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I almost dropped the glass.

I choked on my own breath, coughing slightly in surprise. Did I just hear that right? My idol, the man whose music had shaped so much of my life, was asking to take me out? It felt surreal, like a dream I didn’t dare believe was happening.

"Sir—" I started to protest, my mind racing with confusion, excitement, and nerves all at once.

He cut me off, that same playful smirk still on his lips. "Just get my number then."

Before I could even react, he reached over and gently grabbed my wrist, pulling out a pen from his jacket. My breath hitched as I felt the warmth of his fingers on my skin. With a few quick strokes, he scribbled his number on my wrist.

"Call me. Please," he said, his voice softer now, more sincere. His eyes met mine again, and for a moment, everything else in the club disappeared. It was just me and him, locked in this surreal moment that I knew I would remember for the rest of my life.

I blinked, still trying to process everything as I finished making his drink and handed it to him. He took it with that same easy confidence, his fingers brushing against mine briefly before he lifted the glass to his lips.

The way he drank the Aperol Spritz—quickly, effortlessly, like it was water—was somehow the hottest thing I had ever seen. My eyes were glued to him, watching as he downed the drink with a casual grace that left me even more flustered than before.

When he set the glass down, he gave me one last smile before standing up from the bar. I watched, completely starstruck, as he slowly made his way out of the club, disappearing into the night like some kind of ethereal being.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, still clutching the bar counter, my mind reeling from what had just happened. My idol—Min Yoongi—had not only spoken to me, but he had given me his number.

Holy cow.

It felt too good to be true. I glanced down at my wrist, at the messy numbers scrawled there, and my heart skipped another beat. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

I was still buzzing with excitement and disbelief as I continued working, but my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi, to the way he had looked at me, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand on mine. The rest of my shift flew by in a blur, and when 10 p.m. finally rolled around, I couldn’t get out of the club fast enough.

As soon as I was out the door, I pulled out my phone, staring at the numbers on my wrist. My fingers hovered over the keypad, nerves bubbling up inside of me. Should I really call him? What if this was all a joke, or worse, what if he didn’t even remember me?

But then I thought about the way he had smiled at me, the way his eyes had lingered just a little too long. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a dream.

Taking a deep breath, I finally dialed the number. The phone rang once, twice, three times, before a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

My heart leaped into my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t find my voice. "Uh, hi... it’s Y/N. From the club."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then I heard his soft chuckle. "Ah, the bartender. I’m glad you called."

I bit my lip, trying to hide my giddiness. "Yeah, well, you kind of gave me no choice," I teased lightly.

"Fair enough," he replied, amusement in his voice. "So, what do you say? Still up for going out?"

I glanced around, my nerves suddenly replaced with excitement. "Yeah, I think I am."

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains as I sat at my vanity, carefully applying the finishing touches to my makeup. I was feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness; today wasn’t just any day—it was my first real date with Min Yoongi after i literally spent the whole night talking to him. The Yoongi. My heart raced at the thought of spending time with him outside of the club, just the two of us, with no distractions.

I had barely finished putting on my lipstick when my phone rang, causing me to jump slightly. I grabbed it quickly, seeing his name flash on the screen.

"Hey," his deep voice flowed through the line, smooth and warm. "I'll pick you up. Send me your address, pretty."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. Pretty. He called me that so casually, yet it made my heart skip a beat every time. I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice betrayed me with a soft chuckle. "Oh, okay," I replied, fumbling as I typed out my address and sent it to him.

He responded with a simple "Got it. See you soon," and I hung up, staring at my reflection for a moment longer. Okay, Y/N. You’ve got this. Just be yourself.

I opted for something casual but cute—an airy summer dress that I felt confident in, paired with my favorite sandals. I didn’t want to overdo it, but at the same time, I wanted to look good. After all, this wasn’t just any date. This was a date with Yoongi.

As I finished getting ready, I heard a knock on the door. My heart leaped, and I quickly checked my reflection one last time before rushing over to open it. The moment I pulled the door open, there he was.

Yoongi stood there, dressed in a simple yet effortlessly stylish outfit—a white button-down shirt, slightly rolled up at the sleeves, paired with black slacks. His black hair fell softly over his forehead, and his eyes twinkled with amusement as he took in my appearance.

For a brief moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. My face flushed under his gaze, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

"You look..." He paused, his lips curving into a small smile as he ran a hand through his hair. "So damn pretty."

His words made my heart flutter, and I laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thanks," I murmured, trying to play it cool, though inside I was melting.

He extended his hand toward me. "Shall we?"

I took his hand, his fingers warm against mine as he led me out of my apartment. As we walked to his car, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, still in awe of the fact that this was really happening. Yoongi—the man whose music I had adored for years—was holding my hand, and we were about to go on a date. It felt like a dream, one that I never wanted to wake up from.

Once we reached his car, Yoongi opened the passenger door for me, his actions gentlemanly and smooth. I slid in, my nerves settling slightly as I buckled my seatbelt and watched him move to the driver’s side. He got in and started the car, and soon enough, we were on our way.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, curious.

He glanced at me briefly, his smile returning. "It’s a surprise," he said cryptically, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise, huh?"

"You’ll like it, I promise," he added, giving me a reassuring look. I trusted him, though I couldn’t deny that the mystery only added to the excitement bubbling in my chest.

As we drove, the conversation flowed easily between us. Yoongi was surprisingly easy to talk to, despite his usually quiet and reserved demeanor. He asked me about my work, my hobbies, and what I liked to do for fun, and I found myself opening up to him in a way that felt natural and comfortable.

In return, he shared little snippets of his life, telling me funny stories about his friends and how much he loved producing music. He talked about his love for quiet places, the serenity of sitting by a river with a notebook, just writing. It was moments like these that made me realize just how thoughtful and introspective he was—a side of him that wasn’t always visible in public.

After about thirty minutes of driving, we pulled up to a secluded park just on the outskirts of the city. It was beautiful—quiet, with large trees providing shade and a lake glistening in the sunlight.

"Wow," I breathed as I stepped out of the car. The peacefulness of the place immediately put me at ease, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness behind Yoongi’s choice.

He came around the car, taking my hand once again as we walked toward the lake. "I figured we could have a picnic," he said, nodding toward a small basket he had in the backseat.

My heart swelled at the idea. "A picnic? Aren't you scared we might caught by the media?" I grinned, looking up at him.

His ears turned a slight shade of pink, and he shrugged. "i don't really care about what the media says. i'm a human aswell"

I squeezed his hand gently, touched by the gesture. "well then, i love it"

We found a perfect spot under a large tree, the shade providing a cool relief from the warm sun. Yoongi laid out a blanket, and soon we were sitting together, the gentle breeze carrying the soft sounds of nature around us.

He opened the picnic basket, revealing an array of snacks—fruit, sandwiches, even a small bottle of wine. It was simple but thoughtful, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be here with him.

As we ate, we continued talking, sharing more stories and laughing over silly things. At one point, Yoongi picked up a strawberry and held it out to me. "Here," he said, his eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle.

I giggled, leaning forward to take a bite, but at the last second, he pulled the strawberry away, smirking. "Too slow."

I playfully glared at him, crossing my arms. "Not fair," I pouted.

He chuckled, and after a moment, he held the strawberry out again, this time letting me take a bite. The sweet taste of the fruit was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through me from his teasing smile.

Time seemed to pass effortlessly as we lounged together, enjoying the serenity of the park. At one point, Yoongi leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes as he soaked in the peaceful atmosphere. I took the opportunity to study him, admiring the way the sunlight filtered through the branches above, casting a soft glow on his face.

He looked so at peace, so content. And it made me feel the same.

After a while, he opened his eyes, catching me staring. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

"You’re beautiful, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt my cheeks flush, my heart doing a little flip at his words. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to hide my embarrassment with a playful smile.

He chuckled softly, but the way his eyes lingered on mine told me that he meant what he said.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the park, Yoongi stood up, offering me his hand. "Come on," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. We walked along the edge of the lake, the water reflecting the fading sunlight in a way that made everything feel almost magical. The world around us seemed to quiet down, the only sounds being the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the occasional chirp of a bird in the distance.

At one point, Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face me. His expression had softened, a look of quiet contemplation on his face.

"I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me today," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I looked up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. "I’m glad you asked me," I replied, my voice just as soft.

For a moment, we just stood there, the world around us fading into the background. It was just me and him, standing by the water, sharing a moment that felt almost too perfect to be real.

And then, without saying a word, Yoongi gently pulled me closer, his hand cupping my cheek as he leaned in. My heart raced, my breath hitching as his lips brushed against mine in the softest, sweetest kiss.

It was slow, tender, and filled with a warmth that spread through my entire body, leaving me breathless.

When we finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing softly in the quiet evening air.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but I could hear the emotion behind it.

I smiled, my heart swelling with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. "For what?"

"For being here. For giving me a chance," he replied, his eyes soft and sincere.

I reached up, gently brushing my fingers through his hair. "You’re worth it," I whispered back.

It had been a whirlwind of a week since Yoongi and I started going on dates regularly. We’d been keeping things low-key, not caring too much about what the media might say. It was blissful—no pressure, no complications, just us. Every date felt like a slice of heaven, whether we were sneaking out for late-night drives or staying in to watch movies on the couch. Yoongi had a way of making everything feel easy, and for a while, I let myself believe that this little bubble we created could last forever.

But nothing ever stays hidden for long, especially when you're dating one of the most famous people in the world.

I was lying on my bed, doing my skincare routine with a sheet mask on, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone. I wasn’t expecting to find anything upsetting. In fact, I was enjoying the downtime, a rare moment to myself. That was until I stumbled upon an article that instantly made my heart sink.

"Min Yoongi of BTS, spotted at a bar months ago, writing his number on a bartender's wrist."

I froze. My fingers hovered over the screen as I read the article in shock. The photo attached was blurry, but it was definitely me. I recognized the scene instantly—the night Yoongi had come to the club where I worked and had asked for my number. I remember being so shocked and flustered, and now the world had access to that private moment.

My heart pounded in my chest as I scrolled down, reading article after article, each one with more intrusive headlines. My stomach twisted in knots as I clicked on the comments section of one post.

"I found her IG!" "Is this the bartender?" "She’s dating Yoongi? How dare she!" "She’s not even that pretty."

Each comment was worse than the last. The hate spilled across the screen, words laced with venom from people who didn’t even know me, yet somehow felt entitled to tear me apart. My hands started shaking, and my eyes stung as I continued to read.

Suddenly, the door to my bedroom opened, and Yoongi walked in. He looked relaxed, his usual calm self, but that all changed the moment he saw me. I was still lying on the bed, mask on, my phone gripped tightly in my hand. He crossed the room in a few strides, his expression instantly softening with concern as he approached.

"Y/N, you okay?" he asked, his deep voice low and soothing.

I didn’t answer him right away. Instead, I kept scrolling, my heart sinking further with each hateful comment. I felt the bed dip as Yoongi sat down beside me. He leaned over, glancing at my phone. The moment he saw what I was looking at, his expression darkened.

“Baby, don’t listen to them,” he said softly, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away, still glued to the screen. I felt numb, my mind racing with thoughts about how much this could affect Yoongi’s life. The last thing I wanted was for my presence in his life to cause problems for him. I’d seen what rabid fans could do, how cruel the internet could be.

"She’s using him for clout." "Yoongi deserves better than her." "She’s just a nobody. How did she get his attention?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look anymore. My body trembled, and I let out a shaky breath.

"Y/N," Yoongi's voice was firmer now, but still gentle. He reached out again, taking the phone from my hands this time. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. He set it aside, his body shifting as he leaned over me, his arms wrapping around me tightly, pulling me into his embrace. His warmth was familiar and comforting, but I was too upset to melt into him like I usually would.

"Yoongi, I…" I struggled to find the words. "I don’t want to ruin your reputation."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, his arms still holding me close. “Baby, listen to me. This doesn’t change anything. I don’t care about what those people say.”

I opened my eyes, tears welling up as I looked up at him. "But what if they don’t stop, Yoongi? They’re already finding my social media, my pictures… It’s only going to get worse."

Yoongi gently brushed the hair away from my face, his eyes locking with mine. “I don’t care about them, Y/N. I care about you. They don’t know us, they don’t know you. And honestly, if they can’t accept that I’m dating someone, that’s on them. Not you.”

He leaned down, smashing his lips against mine, the kiss filled with urgency and a need to comfort me. My body responded instantly, my heart aching as I kissed him back, my hands gripping onto his shirt. His lips were soft, but the kiss was passionate, filled with emotion. He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine.

"Y/N, I love you. I love you, not what the media says, not what the fans think. You’re the one I want, the one I’ve chosen," he muttered between small kisses, his lips grazing mine as he spoke.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart racing, but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “Yoongi… I love you too. But I’m scared. I don’t want this to ruin everything you’ve worked for. I don’t want to be the reason you lose your fans.”

His eyes softened, and he brushed away the tears that had escaped down my cheeks. "You’re not ruining anything, okay? If people can’t handle the fact that I’m happy with you, then that’s their problem, not yours." He kissed me again, slower this time, his hands cupping my face gently. "Please don’t leave because of this. I need you."

His words sent a wave of warmth through me, but the doubt still lingered. I pulled away slightly, biting my lip. “But what if it gets worse? What if the media digs into my past, or my family? What if it becomes too much for you?”

Yoongi let out a small sigh, his fingers trailing softly along my jawline. “I’ve been dealing with the media for years, Y/N. They always find something to talk about, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll protect you from all of that, I promise.” He paused, searching my eyes for a moment before continuing. “we need a fandom cleanse anyway.”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his gaze. This wasn’t just about protecting his reputation—he truly cared about me, about us. And in that moment, I realized that no matter how much hate or negativity came our way, Yoongi and I had something real, something that wasn’t going to be torn apart by strangers on the internet.

“I trust you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I really do.”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since I saw that article, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Yoongi wasn’t just saying empty words—he meant it. And I knew that no matter how tough things got, we’d find a way to navigate through it together.

We lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, the world outside fading away as I found comfort in his arms. He held me close, his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside me. Eventually, the anxiety that had been gnawing at me began to fade, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Yoongi kissed my forehead, his voice soft as he spoke. “Let’s just focus on us, okay? Don’t let those people get into your head. I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

I nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of warm, electrifying kisses as he pressed closer, his body hovering over mine. I could feel his breath against my skin, each kiss making me shiver with anticipation. His hands roamed over my body, soft but firm, as if he was memorizing every curve. I let out a soft whimper, my head tilting back to give him more access, and he took the invitation eagerly, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear.

"Yoongi…" I whined, my voice barely a whisper, breathless from the way his mouth moved against my skin. His name slipped past my lips, a plea hidden in the sound, and I felt him smirk against my neck.

“Hm?” he hummed, his voice vibrating against me, sending a jolt through my body. He moved to my ear, nibbling lightly on the lobe before pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. “What do you need, baby?” His voice was low, teasing, but I could see the dark hunger in his gaze.

I bit my lip, feeling the heat build up inside me, my heart pounding in my chest. "Need you…" I moaned lowly, my body arching beneath his as I tugged on his shirt, wanting nothing more than to feel him closer.

He groaned softly, his lips grazing mine before he kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping past my lips in a slow, deliberate dance. The intensity made my head spin, and I could feel my body reacting to him, craving him.

Reaching for my phone, I unlocked it with shaky fingers and quickly scrolled through my playlist until I found the perfect song to match the mood—“Pretty When You Cry” by Lana Del Rey. As soon as the haunting melody filled the room, I dropped the phone to the side, letting the music set the atmosphere.

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the phone, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the song played. “Good choice,” he whispered, his voice a mix of admiration and desire. He kissed me again, this time rougher, more intense, like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

The music filled the room, the sensual beats of Lana’s voice blending with the sounds of our breathless kisses and the soft moans escaping my lips.

"i love you so much y/n. from the moment i saw you i already loved you" he says in between the kisses. "may i?" he asks me and without hesitation i nod. nothing will be ever hotter than a man asking for consent. making sure i'm comfortable and alright with what he's doing.

he slowly goes down to my lower part. sliding down my shorts, revealing my damped panty with a wet patch on it "so wet. all for me? hm?" he coos, rubbing circles on my clothed clit, my back arching just from his touch. "already? i'm not even doing anythig yet baby" he says chuckling. his teeth then bites on the hem of my panty, sliding it down to get full access of my cunt. "are you ready? we can stop if you want" he assures me "fuck no..keep going yoongs" i reply to him, shaky voice.

his tounge then starts to circle my clit, making my eyes roll back. him, smiling at the lewd noises i make, enjoying this. my hands makes it's way to his hair, tugging it. his tounge then starts to do it's magic. "fuck yoongs! they were right! your tounge technology is insane" i whimper, broken words, unable to speak fully with all the pleasure he's been giving me. "i-im coming!" i mewl, tightening my grip on his hair "yes baby, cum on my face yeah?" he says in between. i then couldn't take it anymore.

i felt my orgasm nearing, releasing white liquids on his face. he then faces to me, fuck he is so hot. especially with my liquids on his face. i then take off my shirt revealing my naked breast, i then cup his face, smashing my lips onto him, mixed with lust and love. "yoongs need you..fuck me please" i whimpered onto him, making him give me a smirk. he then starts to unbuckle his belt, sliding down his pants, revealing his erected cock, leaking with pre cum. "i'm clean, on birth control" i said "great" he replies, diving back onto the kiss.

his hands makes it's way to my breast, playing with my nipples as i feel his tip enter me "fuck, you're so tight" he grunts in between the kiss "you're mine, alright?" he says, deep voice, making me absolutely crazy. "fuck...yes i am" i reply, whimpering. "good girl" he chuckles, as our body releases wet noises and the bed creaking rhythmically in every thrust he makes. "yoongs..i'm close" i breathly said, not even a whisper nor a whimper anymore. "come with me baby yeah? cum for me" he says, biting his lips, looking at me.

"open your eyes. i want you to see who's making you cum" i then try my best in keeping my eyes open. i then felt my orgasm nearing, releasing my liquids once again. "baby wait for me, i'm almost there" he howls, "fuck, want me to cum inside you? hm? you'd like that don't you??" he says, while leaving a chuckle. "min yoongi!" i scream as i felt his release inside me, filling me to the brim, our liquids mixing with each other.

assurance sex is fucking great.

he then falls on top of me giving me a peck on my cheek "i love you, will you be my girlfriend?" he says revealing his gummy smile "yes i will" i give him a smile back, happily knowing i have him as mine, and me as his.

#rispwr #bts x reader #bts smut #yoongi #mintyoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #bts suga #suga bts #idol x reader #fic : expect the unexpected

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ladydigianna · 19 days ago

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shattered promises || lh44 x reader

|| pairings: lewis hamilton x reader, platonic f1 grid x reader

|| angst

|| from the author: read angst hcs of f1 so i had to write one please remember this is just fictional, a work of my imagination

-fic under the cut-

The family home buzzed with chatter and laughter, the scent of home-cooked meals filling the air as everyone gathered for yet another event—one of many you’d grown used to over the years. Normally, these events made you feel content, like you belonged to something stable, a network of love that kept you grounded. You found comfort in them, and in Lewis, who stood beside you. His hand rested at the small of your back as you mingled with relatives, the familiar warmth of his touch steadying you.

But tonight was different. There was an undercurrent of tension you couldn’t quite place, a gnawing discomfort that tugged at your chest the longer the evening stretched on. Every so often, you caught your sister casting glances at Lewis—glances that felt too intimate, too knowing. At first, you brushed it off. You trusted them both implicitly; after all, your sister was family, and Lewis was the love of your life. The man who whispered sweet promises of forever in your ear on quiet nights, the man who made you feel like you were his world.

But something was wrong. You could feel it in the way Lewis’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes whenever he looked at you, or in the way your sister seemed nervous, her laughter too forced when they interacted. The uneasy feeling festered as the night wore on, growing harder to ignore.

It all came to a head when you excused yourself from a conversation with some cousins, needing a moment to breathe and collect your racing thoughts. As you walked down the hallway, seeking a quiet corner of the house, you heard it. Muffled voices. The soft murmur of your sister’s voice, mixed with Lewis’s low, frantic tones.

You froze, heart hammering in your chest as you stood just outside the door. You knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but something kept you rooted to the spot. You couldn’t stop yourself.

“Lewis, we can’t do this,” your sister’s voice whispered urgently, panic clear in her tone. “It was a mistake.”

“I know, I know,” Lewis replied, his voice strained. “It was a one-time thing. We were drunk, we weren’t thinking… but we can’t let her find out.”

Her. You.

The words hit you like a sledgehammer, and the air seemed to vanish from your lungs. Your mind raced, a sickening realization dawning on you as the blood rushed in your ears. You felt your knees wobble, the floor beneath you seeming to fall away as the betrayal washed over you in suffocating waves.

You pushed the door open, your hands trembling. Their heads snapped toward you, faces drained of color as they registered your presence. Your sister’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Lewis stepped forward, panic and guilt written all over his face.

“Y/N…,” he began, his voice shaking. “Please, let me explain.”

Your throat burned as you tried to speak, but the words got stuck. Tears welled up in your eyes, hot and unstoppable, as you took in the sight of them together. Your sister—the person you had grown up with, confided in, trusted more than anyone else in the world. And Lewis, the man who had sworn he would never hurt you.

“How could you?” you finally choked out, voice breaking. “Both of you? My own sister, and you… Lewis, how could you do this to me?”

Your sister’s face crumpled as she stepped forward, reaching out, her voice trembling. “Y/N, it was a mistake, I swear. We were drunk, it didn’t mean anything. Please—”

“Stop,” you spat, taking a step back, your chest heaving with sobs you could no longer hold back. “Don’t say another word. Don’t try to justify it. You both knew what you were doing. Drunk or not, you knew.” You turned to Lewis, the hurt in your eyes piercing through the fog of shock that clouded your mind. “You promised me,” you whispered, voice hoarse. “You said I was your forever. Was that a lie too?”

Tears filled Lewis’s eyes as he reached out for you, desperation clawing at his every word. “No, it wasn’t. Please, Y/N, it was one mistake. One night. I was drunk—I wasn’t thinking. But I love you. I love you more than anything in this world.”

But his words fell on deaf ears. Your heart was shattered, and all you could think of was getting away. You couldn’t stand to be in the same room with them, couldn’t bear to hear any more lies. Without another word, you turned and bolted out of the house, ignoring their frantic calls as you fled into the night, tears blinding your vision.

The cool night air hit you like a slap to the face, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside you. You didn’t know where you were going; all you knew was that you needed to run, to escape the crushing weight of their betrayal. Your legs carried you down the street, feet pounding against the pavement as sobs wracked your body.

“Y/N!” Lewis’s voice rang out behind you, growing closer as he chased after you, his footsteps echoing against the empty street. “Please, don’t leave! Let me explain! I can’t live without you. I love you, please… don’t go.”

But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. His words only fueled your pain, making it harder to breathe. “Stay away from me!” you screamed, your voice breaking as your tears blurred everything around you. You were so lost in your grief that you didn’t see the car speeding down the road, didn’t hear the blaring horn until it was too late.

The impact came with a sickening thud, and the world went dark.

Lewis watched in horror as your body crumpled to the ground, his mind struggling to process what had just happened. Time seemed to freeze as he stood there, paralyzed with shock.

“No… no, no, no,” he whispered, rushing to your side. His hands trembled as he gathered your limp body into his arms, blood seeping into the pavement beneath you. “Please, no. Please don’t do this. Y/N, wake up. Wake up, please,” he begged, tears streaming down his face as he cradled you. “I wasn’t able to make it right. Let me tell her I love her one last time. I know I never deserved her, but why take her away? Why now?”

His words echoed into the night, but there was no answer. Only the silence of the empty street and the cold, lifeless body of the woman he loved more than anything.

The day of your funeral was dreary, the sky gray and overcast, as if the world itself mourned your loss. The church was packed with family, friends, and the entire F1 grid, but the air was thick with anger and blame. Lewis stood at the back, his face pale and gaunt, hollowed out by grief. His eyes, red and swollen from sleepless nights and endless tears, scanned the crowd, but no one would meet his gaze.

As the service ended, the drivers gathered around your grave, their faces hard with fury. Fernando Alonso was the first to approach him, his hand clenched into a fist.

“This is your fault,” Fernando hissed, his voice low and venomous before his fist connected with Lewis’s jaw, sending him stumbling backward. “You killed her.”

Lewis didn’t even fight back. The pain of the punch was nothing compared to the weight of his guilt. He barely reacted as the other drivers closed in, their faces a mix of rage and disgust. Max Verstappen, Sergio Pérez, Lando Norris, Charles Leclerc—they all looked at him as though he were the lowest form of life.

“Stay away from her grave,” Oscar Piastri snarled, shoving Lewis back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Lewis stood there, unable to move, unable to defend himself as the drivers took turns spitting their anger at him. He didn’t blame them. He deserved every word, every blow. He had failed you in the worst possible way.

Your friends, Lily Muni He, Alexandra Saint Mleux, Kika Gomes, Flavy Barla, and Kelly Piquet, stood off to the side, their eyes filled with contempt as they hurled insults at him and your sister.

“You’re disgusting,” Kika spat, her eyes blazing with hatred. “How could you do this to her? She loved you.”

“And you,” Lily said, glaring at your sister, her voice trembling with fury. “How could you betray her like that? You’re her sister!”

Your family wasn’t any more forgiving. Your mother, her face streaked with tears, approached Lewis as they lowered your coffin into the ground. She slapped him across the face, her sobs tearing through the quiet.

“Why are you here?” she screamed, her voice hoarse with grief. “Go away! You have no right to be here!”

Your father turned on your sister, his face twisted with rage. “How dare you show your face here?” he growled. “You are no child of mine.”

The weight of their anger and blame was suffocating, but Lewis couldn’t leave. He couldn’t tear himself away from your grave, from the last place he would ever see you. He had lost everything—his love, his future, his world.

In the end, he stood alone, surrounded by the wreckage of his choices. You were gone, and no amount of apologies or tears could bring you back. He had destroyed the one good thing in his life, and now he would have to live with that guilt for the rest of his days.

#xreader #fanfiction #ladydigianna #y/n #formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh44 #lewis hamilton x reader #lh44 x reader #platonic f1 x reader

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 2 months ago

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Toto Wolff with wife reader. Worrying about Kimi's debut at FP1..Everything went well for them until his crash. She was beside Toto with Jack when he crashed and instantly sought his comfort. Thanks!! :))

Hii guys, I hope you enjoy this request :)

The morning at Monza had dawned with an intensity that felt different from any other race weekend. You stood in the Mercedes motorhome, looking out at the bustling paddock, and felt an unfamiliar tension knotting in your stomach. You knew the whole team could sense it—Toto’s gaze lingered on you a little longer than usual, his face a mix of concern and quiet determination, and Jack, always so confident, kept glancing your way with a reassuring smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Today was Kimi’s debut in FP1. The weight of the moment wasn’t lost on anyone, especially you. Kimi was like a son to you, and watching him prepare to step into a Formula 1 car was both exhilarating and terrifying. The pressure he was under was immense, and though you had every confidence in his abilities, you couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at your heart.

Suddenly, your mind drifted to a memory from the day before.

It was late in the evening, and the two of you were alone in the motorhome. Kimi had been uncharacteristically quiet all day, and you could see the anxiety in his eyes. As he fiddled with a wrench, his usually steady hands trembled ever so slightly.

"Kimi," you said softly, moving to sit beside him, "can I tell you something?"

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on the tool in his hands.

You reached out, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Everything is going to be alright. I know this is a lot, and I know how much you want to do well, but no matter what happens out there, I want you to know how proud we all are of you. I’m proud of you. We believe in you, Kimi. You’ve worked so hard for this, and you’ve earned your place here. Just go out there and do your best, and that will always be enough for us."

Kimi finally looked up, his eyes wide and glistening with emotion. For a moment, he looked so much younger than his years, like the boy you’d seen grow up over the years.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I just… I don’t want to let anyone down."

"You won’t," you assured him, your voice firm but gentle. "Whatever happens, we’ve got your back. Always."

Without another word, Kimi leaned in and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the nervous tension in his body slowly start to ease.

Back in the present, the memory brought a bittersweet smile to your face. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nerves. The team was gathered around, watching the screens as Kimi’s car roared out onto the track for his first practice session. You could feel Toto’s presence beside you, a quiet pillar of strength, his hand resting lightly on your back, offering silent support.

Jack stood on your other side, arms crossed, eyes glued to the monitors, his jaw set in concentration. You knew he was as invested in Kimi’s success as you were, and his unwavering confidence helped steady your own nerves.

As Kimi completed his first few laps, there was a palpable shift in the energy of the room. The data coming in looked promising, and a ripple of hopeful excitement spread through the team. For a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, your heartbeat slowing as you watched Kimi’s smooth driving, his lines precise and controlled.

But then, in an instant, everything changed.

On the screen, Kimi’s car suddenly veered off course, slamming into the barrier with a sickening crunch. The sound of the impact seemed to echo in the motorhome, a collective gasp rising from the team.

Your heart dropped into your stomach, and you felt all the air leave your lungs. “Oh my God, Kimi…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the commotion.

Toto was immediately at your side, his arm wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and calm, though you could see the worry etched on his face. “Let’s wait for the comms. They’re checking on him now.”

Jack quickly moved in front of you, his hands on your arms, his eyes searching yours with a reassuring intensity. “He’s tough, you know that. He’s going to be fine.”

The seconds felt like hours as you waited for any update. The team radio crackled to life, and you held your breath, your eyes locked on the screen.

“Kimi, are you okay?” came the concerned voice of Toto.

There was a brief pause, then a slightly shaky but determined reply: “Yeah, I’m okay. I… I’m sorry, I lost it there.”

You could hear the relief in Toto’s voice as he responded, “No need to apologize, Kimi. The important thing is that you’re alright. Let’s get you back to the garage.”

As the tension in the room began to ease, you felt your legs almost give way, but Toto and Jack were right there, steadying you.

Moments later, Kimi walked into the motorhome, a sheepish smile on his face. His suit was a bit scuffed, and there was a hint of a limp in his step, but he was otherwise unscathed.

Without a word, you rushed to him, pulling him into a tight hug, not caring about the grease or the dust. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Kimi hugged you back just as tightly, his own relief evident. “I’m sorry,” he murmured again, but you shook your head, pulling back to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, Kimi. You did great. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

Toto stepped forward, placing a supportive hand on Kimi’s shoulder. “You showed a lot of courage out there today. You’ll learn from this, and you’ll come back stronger. We all believe in you.”

Jack nodded, grinning at Kimi. “Besides, it wouldn’t be racing without a few bumps and scrapes, right?”

Kimi chuckled, the tension in his shoulders finally easing as he looked around at the faces of his team, his family. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The moment was full of warmth and camaraderie, a perfect reminder of why you all loved this sport so much. It wasn’t just about the cars or the races; it was about the people, the family you’d built together, and the unwavering support you had for one another, no matter what happened on the track.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 #toto wolff #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff x y/n #kimi antonelli #italian gp 2024

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thegnomelord · 10 months ago

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another thought about ghost courting - he bumbles his way through and it somehow actually works, you start finding his attempts cute until eventually you’re lying in bed thinking about him and you have a moment of realisation of “god dammit i like him”

Okay, okay okay, now i'm invested in this lol SFW but slightly suggestive.

You should be asleep. You've been trying to fall asleep for god knows how long, the blinking green numbers of your alarm clock mocking you with every change— minute after minute, hour after hour, tick tick ticking by until you're ready to tear the sheets with your claws.

Something buzzes at the back of your skull like a swarm of wasps, yet you're unable to understand what it is as you glare uselessly at the ceiling as if it'll reveal all the answers. Then your eyes flicker to the nightstand, the small bone charm sitting on it. It's a piece of bleached white bone carved into rough shape by unskilled hands, the edges sharp, and you're not quite able to tell what it's supposed to be but Simon made it for you.

He made it for you.

And you could the flush beneath his mask when he'd handed it to you, trying to remain stoic despite the nervousness gnawing on his nerves. God he'd looked so adorable, staring at you with confusion and surprise when you'd purred at the sight of his gift, his eyes analyzing every little movement you made as the whisps of shadow coming off his arms fizzled like pop rocks.

God you'd just wanted to devour him there and then, to coax that mask off him so you could see his face; you didn't doubt a second he'd turn red like a lobster, eyes blown wide and the most needy sound escaping his bitten lips as he writhed underneath you as you two—

Shit.

You liked him.

That ancient element in your bones woke up with a start when your brain registered you had a potential mate, all exhaustion leaving your body as you got up and out of your room, head held in the air and mouth open to track his scent like a bloodhound, able to taste him on your tongue as you found your way to the roof.

He turned when he heard the door open, mask lifted up to his nose so he could smoke in peace. His eyes widened when he saw your glowing eyes peering back at him, like small lights that lured prey into anglerfish jaws.

"Somethin' the matter?" He asked, brows furrowed as you sniffed the air.

Your nose wrinkled as nicotine muddled the sharpness of his scent, and before you knew it you were stomping right up to him, your clawed hands wrapping around his waist as you burrowed your face into his neck.

"What the fock are you doing?" Simon growled, a shiver racing down his spine when you nuzzled his skin, the light scrape of your fangs causing a lick of adrenaline to spark in his system. But he didn't push you away, you were one of the few people he ever let touch him longer than a second.

"Simon," You voice warbled, the silence behind your letters filled with inhuman sounds. You breathed in deep, purring at his scent, of gunpowder and blackwood and something distinctly Simon filled your nose. "Mate." You purred louder, feeling it vibrate against his chest.

Ghost nearly choked at your words, the cigarette dropping to the floor as his mind stuttered like an old computer. "Wha- . . .what?"

"Mate." You repeated, and Christ did that word sound good on your tongue, your tongue coming out to lick a stripe up his neck, grinning when he wrapped his own arms around you like you were a raft in the storm. "My mate."

Simon could feel his heart beat faster, thumping in his ears like a nervous rabbit as you nuzzled further into his neck, spreading your scent on him. "Yeah?" He asked carefully, "Yours am I?"

You grumbled and lifted your head to nuzzle your cheek against his — the best you could do as a kiss when you had a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Yes," You grunted, holding the back of his neck, feeling him progressively go slack against you. "And I'm more than happy to prove it."

The hungry look in your eyes made him shiver with anticipation.

#gnome's tea break #gnome correspondence #x reader #trinkets from the hoard #male reader #top male reader #top gn reader #dom gn reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #cod modern warfare

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pandoa · 5 months ago

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eyes of your beholder

rook reassures you that you are still the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, no matter what your insecurities are

rook hunt x gender neutral! reader

requested by @yvonne67~✰

“Rook… honest opinion…” your voice rang through the decently sized dorm room of a certain Pomefiore vice housewarden. With a hint of hesitation to your tone, you leaned your back against the young man’s pillows and bed as you turned to look at him from his spot seated in front of his desk.

“Do you think I’m… too loud whenever we’re together?”

Rook, upon hearing the hesitance in your voice, immediately set down the pen and paper in his hands, giving you his full attention, “Hm? Whatever do you mean, mon amour?”

“You know… I am more on the rambunctious side when it comes to personality, and it doesn’t help that my image doesn’t really correlate much with the standards Pomefiore builds as a dorm. People talk, you know. I’m not oblivious to their stares and whispers… I’m also more average when it comes to my looks so…” your sentence trailed off as you avoided the way Rook had been looking at you at that moment. Almost as if he were studying you with each sentence you said.

“You’re beautiful through and through, (Y/n),” he answered back with a sure expression, “But… Why do you ask?”

“It’s nothing—”

“It is never nothing, (Y/n).” Rook took a small step towards you, gently grasping your hands as the emerald of his eyes bore into you as if he were gazing through a crystal window to your thoughts. He held your hands delicately, voice now soft and whispering, “Mon ange, please tell me what is going through that radiant mind of yours.”

At that, his words were enough to make you feel as if you were about to crumble. Crumble into a pathetic pile of dust, dirt, and envy which gnawed at your conscience as your true intentions shone past the defenses you placed moments before. Your defenses collapsed all at once with a single utterance from the man in front of you, and he could see you clearer than ever by now. The imperfections and clouded insecurities. The damaged self-confidence and unease.

He knew what made your mind spiral and twist and turn. What caused that heavy pit in your stomach whenever you would catch yourself glancing at another student at Pomefiore, gaze lingering a little longer than what was socially acceptable as a mere accident. He knew… yet he still hoped that you would be the one who told him directly.

This man… is too observant for his own good, you thought to yourself as you noticed Rook beginning to gently rub his thumb over your hands in a comforting motion, sending a warm flutter through your senses at the reassuring action.

“I just… I was just wondering if there was something that—” you paused for a split second as you pieced together your thoughts prudently, “—That I could perhaps fix about myself. To meet the kind of standards you all set for both yourself and the people around you. Just to, you know, maybe fit the part as your significant other a little better. That’s all.”

“Fit the part?” Rook repeated in disbelief, “Mon ange, you have nothing you need to be proving to others in order for—”

You glanced back up at him with a firm disposition, your stance unwavering and disbelieving in his words, “But there is, Rook. There is.”

“I can assure you there is not,” Rook smiled with a gentle curve to his lips as he took your hands he’d already been holding and guided you off of the sinking mattress of his dorm room, leading you somewhere away from his bed. “Come with me.”

“Where?” you asked as you reluctantly sat up and practically let him pull you to your feet. You had no idea what the huntsman had planned for you this time, yet you still gave into his wishes as he supported your form once you stood up. Albeit, with at least half as much enthusiasm compared to him—but still.

“Just trust me,” Rook’s smile slowly formed into a grin as you both began walking across his dorm room. Passing by the wooden furniture of his desk beside his bed, treading through the soft texture of his white, polka-dotted rug, and past the neatly hung bows and arrows in his room, you and Rook made your way on your short journey and into the familiar doors of—

… The bathroom?

“Now, mon trésor, what do you see?” Rook asked as he guided your shoulders and had you face both of your reflections into the dorm’s gold-accented looking glass with Rook standing slightly behind you.

“The mirror,” you answered back dryly.

“Be serious.”

A sigh escaped your mouth at his insistence for an answer, “Myself…”

“C’est exact! It’s you,” the hunter grinned as he gave you a small applause, glancing at you through the mirror, “And what else do you see in the mirror?”

“I see you.”

“Correct again. I see you, and you see me. A beautiful exchange, don’t you think?” “Rook, what’s the point in all of this—” You tried turning around to face the young man, only for him to promptly grasp your shoulders again and turn your frame to face the looking glass once more.

“And like this beautiful exchange, because you, mon ange, are my beloved partner and lover, we get to see, discover, and adore the things that make us the individuals we are today. To love someone is to see them…” Rook tenderly took hold of your hand again, reaching from his place behind you to grasp it as his voice was laced with an ardent urgency to tell you these words. His eyes bore into your heart as his ability to see things beyond the surface spoke to you in gentle touches and confessions of adoration.

Then, after Rook had ensured that you were listening to every word, every syllable, and every consonant he uttered, he continued.

“...And I see you each and every second of the day, (Y/n). The world can say what it wants, your mind can continue feeding whatever worries which flood your mind so often, yet absolutely nothing will go so far as to blind me and prevent me from seeing the enchanting parts of you which I so adore.

There is nothing you need to do or change in order to be deserving of the love which I give to you freely. No superficial standard, no judgemental comment, no part you have to play… Nothing.”

“I only want you. Nothing else.”

Rook finishes his passion-filled explanation, allowing more time for you to take in all that he said and let it imprint itself into both your mind and heart. You watched as Rook’s reflection in the mirror had diverted his gaze from the looking glass and onto you, seeing through you again and again in ways you could not even comprehend. It was almost unfair how he was able to reach you in the deepest depths of your mind. Never giving up on you whenever these waves and storms of emotions struck you. It was almost unfair how he pulled you out of these storms each time, piecing you back together like a beautifully broken piece of artwork.

“Now, if that fact alone still does not satisfy you,” the huntsman then continued as his voice held a much more lighthearted tone to it, “then I will gladly go through every detail about you which I oh so adore, as I have previously mentioned. And once I name each and everything, I will then give an even more detailed reasoning for why I love those parts of you, starting with your eyes, lips, face, nose, cheeks—”

You shook your head hastily, not wanting for him to over do his affirmations, “No, Rook, that isn’t very necess—”

“—eyebrows, eyelashes, waist, legs, voice—”

“Rook, wait—”

“—the little beauty marks and stray marks which decorate your skin, your scars, your hair no matter where it is—” He powered on despite your objections.

“It’s okay, really—”

“—the way your lips shift into a certain expression when you’re thinking, the way your arms never fail to bend at a one hundred thirty-seven degree angle every single time you pull me into one of your spell-binging embraces, the way you—”

Oh, Sevens. You have the dear hunter going off on a tangent now.

a/n: i really pulled out a protractor to try and measure the exact angle my arm would bend hugging a hypothetical rook hunt

#disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst wonderland #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #rook x reader #gender neutral reader #♢the scribe♢#twstnexus #twst rook #rook twst

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thoughtfullyrainynightmare · 1 year ago

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Hello, I'd like to request for fuegoleon, William, nozel, zora and Nacht where they hurt their s/O's feelings and make her cry? And just how guilty they feel, how they make it up, comfort their s/o and apologize. You can choose whatever they couldve said or done to make her cry I love anything you write they're all so good

If 5 characters is too much then just fuego, nozel and nacht would be fine please and thankyou❤️

Hello! Some hurt comfort is on the menu it seems, and I'm happy to oblige ^^ This ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope it's worth the wait ^^

Pairings: Fuegoleon x f!reader, William x f!reader, Nozel x f!reader, Zora x f!reader, Nacht x f!reader

Fanfic type: Headcanons

Genre: Hurt-comfort

Length: about 0.75k each, 3.9k total

Warnings: Generally hurt-comfort, the guys snap at reader, all for reasons of their own, in Nozel's scenario the reader doesn't really know what kind of a person Nozel's dad is, Zora addresses reader as "babydoll", Zora calls himself as a "jerk ass", reader cries and the guys try to comfort in their own ways

Fuegoleon

He had had very taxing couple of months. The adverse the country was facing seemed to have no end in sight, and it felt that in terms of politics and finances the country was being pushed further and further into a corner, which took an immense toll on him emotionally.

And though a part of him wished that he could simply take a vacation and not worry about any of it, he knew it to be senseless. Quite simply because the same issues would wait him as he returned, and they would have further piled up, so taking a vacation would be counterproductive. But still he felt that his nerves were hanging by a thin thread, even if he considered himself as a patient man.

As he sat by his desk, you came through the door with a paper in hand.

“I made us a reservation to a restaurant,” you told him. “I thought we could take a nice evening off, have a date and just enjoy life,” you smiled, while presenting the reservation information to him.

“No thank you,” he said without looking up from the documents in front of him.

“But you need to have some time off as well,” you insisted while placing your hand onto his arm and tugging him slightly. “So I planned us a day where we can just do something w-“

“I can’t take a day off!” He snapped. “Surely a moment of peace and quiet would be pleasant, but there is too much to take care of for me to quite simply ‘take a day off’,” he continued.

And you… lifted your hand off of his arm, and took a step back.

You had intended to do something nice for him, because you had seen how strained he was and now he… wasn’t… feeling the sentiment. A part of you wanted to blame yourself because you had failed to read him and what he’d wish correctly, because wasn’t a spouse supposed to be able to do that?

There were a lot of emotions swirling around in you, but none of them were pleasant. And with it, tears begun climbing to your eyes with a burning sensation, only to roll down your cheeks.

Fuegoleon looked at you, and there was a gnawing, pricking ocean of guilt in his chest, because he knew that you had meant well. You had wanted to do something nice for him and make the situation at least a little bit more bearable.

“My love I’m…” he reached forward for you. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you, but … I…” his gaze fell to the side as he spoke, feeling the weight of his words, spoken carelessly.

You didn’t shy away from him as he tried to get close to you again, because it wasn’t… that you didn’t understand him, and you could see the sincere apology and regret in his eyes.

“I’ll… I’ll try to take the day off…” he promised with something that sounded almost like a sigh, but really it was because he knew what it’d mean.

And you knew what it’d mean too. It’d mean sleepless nights, having less time during the next week or two for you two to spend together regularly, in place of that one day. It was a sacrifice he was willing to make, but it wouldn’t be worth it. You’d rather see him a little each day than not at all.

“No,” you shook your head with a faint tone while mirroring his movements and reaching for him. “We can… just have a moment, a short moment, in the evening to ourselves,” you said through your drying tears.

His eyes gathered that gentle undertone that was too beautiful for this world, as he placed his hand onto your cheek and brushed away your tears. “If that is what you wish,” he said with gratitude in his voice before he pressed a kiss onto your forehead.

You nodded as a reply, even if only faintly.

“I am sorry, my beloved,” he still repeated. “You’re the most important person in my life, and I don’t wish to impose any-“

“No, no,” you shook your head. “I get it. There’s a lot on your plate and I should have talked about your schedule with you before making reservations…”

“But your heart was in the right place,” he told you while placing his hand under your chin. “And that’s one of the reasons why I love you,” he admitted while lifting your chin, and placing another kiss onto your lips, warm, gentle and caressing, which washed away any shadow of doubt of his sentiments that might have been there.

William

The days had grown long, because of everything that was going on in the kingdom. And with the disappearance of Julius, it had gotten him thinking about what had happened after the whole ordeal with the elves. Which had made… something about the whole state of the kingdom hit too close to home with him.

Perhaps he was questioning being pardoned altogether, since it seemed that the one to pardon him, had taken a run for it. Or perhaps something more dire.

But if the only person to be willing to pardon him was someone like him, willing to look the other way when the kingdom was falling to its knees then…

It filled him with various emotions, all swirling and twisting and turning until he felt all of them trying to bubble to the surface, but he didn’t know which to let out first. How to let them out. Instead it felt like they were all stuck in his throat, just building, building, building up pressure so much that he might-

“Hey honey!” You greeted while entering through the door of his office, only to see him hunching over his own desk. “Oh did you eat something bad, or-“ you placed your hand onto his shoulder.

But he pushed it away. “Don’t touch me!” He ordered without as much as looking at you. And from his tone, you heard nothing but pain, hurt, and… you could have sworn… disgust… underlying it all… You could have sworn there to be contempt… in there…

You took a step back, pulling your hand to you and holding it with the other. As you couldn’t… imagine why… why would he have… Your sweet William…

His chest was heaving, and as his eyes lifted from the desk to you, the most prominent feelings you could se were fear and pain. The way they flickered, his purple eyes that were so gentle, flickered around as tears lined the corners of his eyes.

“Forgive me…” he whispered as his eyes turned to the side. “I didn’t… I just… Why did he pardon me? Some… solidarity from a villain to another?” His head swayed from side to side, as if trying to comprehend, but failed to do so.

“You’re… not a villain, Will…” you tried, because his reaction had… made sense. It wasn’t you he was trying to shoo away, it was his own emotions, but you sounded anything but convinced. Tears climbed to your own eyes.

You buried your face into your hands, and wept, from the shock of what had happened, his words, but also because you had understood where it came from. Because he was pained from the guilt of his past actions, and you felt his pain too.

He turned to look at you again, as he heard your sobs, and got up from the chair to make his way to you from the other side of the desk.

“I’m sorry… so, so sorry my little song bird…” he wrapped his arms around you, and pressed his head against yours, as his tears rolled down his cheeks, and onto you. “I’ll… make it up to you…” he pleaded. “Just don’t… please don’t… hate me, I… didn’t… wasn’t… I didn’t mean to….” His voice was faint, broken and defeated, and he swayed in place with you in his arms.

It sounded like he was repenting. Praying for forgiveness.

“I don’t hate you… Will,” you told him while wrapping your own arms around him. He was a broken man, and he had acted out of distress. Without intent to hurt you. Without intent to push you away.

He pressed a kiss onto your head as his embrace grew tighter. “I’m sorry,” he still whispered.

You nudged his head with yours, and whispered against his skin “we’ll make it through.”

Because you would. The two of you would. He wasn’t a bad man. He wasn’t a villain. It was simply that the guilt he felt got overbearing sometimes, which had caused him to call out in fear of what he thought about himself.

But he loved you, and you loved him. So, you could heal, together. You were certain about it, as you stood there, holding onto each other.

Nozel

Nozel had learned to deal with his family situation from a young age. Though ‘dealing with it’ had turned into something that seemed more like survival. Not that you could see it from the surface. Because, while looking from afar, without seeing into his eyes, his emotions, he was a calm sea. Vast and serene. Though something, someone to be revered and respected, because there was also harshness in the oceans.

But if you had the opportunity to peek under the surface, you’d see a twisting, turning vortex of guilt, pain, sorrow… fear… A lot of emotions one might deem ugly.

‘Unsightly’ he would describe them in himself. Because he couldn’t be any of those things. The Captain of the Silver Eagles, the First Born Son of the Royal House of Silva, couldn’t be any of those things. And thus… to him, in him, they were unsightly.

He didn’t talk about his childhood either. He didn’t talk about his parents, aside of his mother. Which, given the circumstances of her parting, made sense. He would talk about her more because of the fate she had faced.

You had been thinking about starting a family with him. You had talked about it in passing. And as you sat in the living room, him staring out of the window, deep in thought. You talked about how lovely it’d be. “I’m sure you’d be a great father,” you thought out loud, meaning just it, and nothing else. “Just like yours.”

His head begun to turn to you with a slow motion, as if mechanic, and his eyes were wide open. It wasn’t even a glare, but a mad stare.

“I will never be like that bastard!” He shouted, making you press against your seat out of the sheer force in which the words were pushed, spat out of his mouth.

His body started to shake, and the stare turned into a look of horror as his eyes fell down to the floor. Because…. Because… though his father had been horrid, spewed poisonous words in a whole different way than shouting… maybe you had been right and… he was on his way becoming just like his father. Which was among the last things he’d want.

But you… you didn’t quite understand where it had come from. Sure, he hadn’t talked about his father, but you hadn’t thought that there’d be this level of hatred and contempt for him from Nozel. Though you had gathered that Older Lord Silva wasn’t a well liked man, but… surely he… would have been… kinder to his… own children, right?

Right…?

There were a lot of emotions turning within you. Partly from the force of Nozel’s words, and partly from guilt of having failed to see through his silence. Through the things he didn’t want to talk about, and… as you leaned forward, your elbows on your knees and buried your face into your hands, you cried. You cried and you cried and you… didn’t know what to do. What to say?

You felt a weight right next to you on the couch, as a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Nozel I…” you tried while pushing against his chest with a faint motion.

“Don’t…” he started as his hold of you grew more firm. “Look at me…” he continued as his voice broke, and something… as if a droplet, landed onto your shoulder.

The words sounded like a plea. Plea filled with shame and the broken pieces of his soul that he wasn’t eager to show you.

But you did as he wished, and settled into his embrace.

“I’m… sorry, my dear,” he whispered with that same broken tone while placing his hand to the back of your head. “I’ll… be better, than him. I will…” you couldn’t tell if he was trying to tell that to you or to himself.

But whatever his father must’ve been like in reality, you could already tell that Nozel was far better of a man than his father had ever been. He was. Because the man who held you in the soft, gentle, secure embrace felt so very deeply about you and the ones close to him.

He really was like an ocean of secrets.

“I love you,” he professed through another whisper, but while the tone was silent, the proclamation was loud as ever. “I love you…” he repeated, just to make sure that you heard him.

And as you buried your face into his shoulder, and the scent of his haircare products flowed to you, it was as if your tears had disappeared into thin air.

Nozel might not have been the best with words, but he was there, when you needed him the most.

Zora

Zora had had to raise himself for a good portion of his childhood. Though Zara had given him good tools to life, and a lot of wonderful memories, it didn’t mean that Zora wouldn’t have had to toughen up.

His accomplishments, his skills and tenacity were all a result of him having a keen eye for details, while also having had to, quite bluntly, tell himself to do better. Pay attention to his own shortcomings and fix the issue.

But… it had also resulted in him being blunt with others. Though it was all for the sake of betterment, for growth and development of skills, the way he delivered the words were harsh more often than not. Which was something he was trying to fix, when it came to some people, at least.

You knew that he was like that. And you knew that he wasn’t the type of a guy to just sit around and expect you to do all the housework, but it didn’t mean that you didn’t like cooking from time to time. Actually, maybe it was the idea that you didn’t need to cook, because he’d be more than alright with cooking if you asked him to, but rather that you could.

But today the dish wasn’t… cutting it. You had tried to taste it many times and there was something in the seasoning that wasn’t just… doing it for you. But you couldn’t really place your finger on what was wrong with it. Or not… wrong wrong per se, but it certainly could be better.

You leaned against the stove, and sighed to yourself, as the gears in your head tried to turn. But came up empty.

A drawer was opened, and closed. There was a sound of metal clicking against metal and steps coming closer, accompanied by a hum from a certain, masked, someone.

Zora dipped his spoon into the food and took a bite to test the taste. And after he had, he sighed, sounding disappointed before making his way to the spice cabinet and laying thme out onto the table.

“The balance is all wrong,” he said. “It’s mainly salty while you want there to be some sweetness to it for the contrast as well. A bit of acid would do wonders, but the real issue is that the spices aren’t complimenting each other,” he explained while taking the spoon and adding one spice after another along with other ingredients.

And you… took a step back and let him do it. Because if it was ‘all wrong’, why should you have interjected?

In all honesty, it made you feel unappreciated. Like you couldn’t even cook right. If I can’t even cook right, then why is he with me….? You found yourself thinking.

Before you knew it, your eyes had turned to the floor and you were grinding your molars together as tears started climbing to your eyes. And eventually, they ran down your cheeks as you were still immersed into your own thoughts, in how you didn’t think that you could do a simple task correct. Because surely Zora wanted someone by his side who could contribute as much as he did. Surely. So why was he-

“Hey babydoll?”

You looked up, and saw him standing there, having placed his hand onto your shoulder.

His eyes were deep, calm blue. Clear and yet deep blue. And there was worry in them. That was when you realized that you were crying and looked away while wrapping your arms around yourself.

He sighed, and rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry about the tone,” he said. “Didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, and… I’m happy to eat whatever you make,” he tried but the consolation fell short, given how he had started cooking in your place.

You curled around yourself a bit more, without really meaning to, but you did. In any case.

“Come here,” he said while pulling you into an embrace.

Seconds ticked away for a while as he just held you, and the dinner was slowly cooking on the stove.

“If you want me to stay out of it, you need to just tell me, y’know? I know that I can be too harsh, and… And… I try to not be.”

He was trying to help you get better. But he could be a wee bit of a jerk about it at times.

“We both know I can be a real ass jerk,” he said with a hint of amusement, trying to make you laugh.

And it worked. “But you’re my jerk,” you replied with a hint of a giggle in your tone.

“That I am,” he replied. “And I hope you never need to get sick of me,” he continued while pulling away just enough to wipe your tears away.

You gave him a small smile as a reply to his careful one, and went back to cooking, together.

Nacht

Nacht had been a loner for most of his life. Someone who travelled down his own path without caring what everyone else thought. And it had made him someone who spoke directly about anything and everything he deemed to be topical to say.

Though he could also be harsh. Granted that he was the harshest to himself, but still. His directness could be harsh, and you both knew it.

He tried not to be, to you. He tried to treat you with the kindness that you deserved. He tried to treat you with the respect that you ought to be treated with. But sometimes, he failed.

Though watching him scold the Bulls for their shenanigans yet again, you didn’t think that he was trying all that hard to be constructive. Maybe he just wanted them to be efficient during missions, because that would drive the squad forward the best. ‘Not to be wasteful of energy’, or something like that.

“You could try going easier on them,” you told him later on when it was just the two of you. “Be kinder.”

“Kindness is a weakness,” he scoffed. “And Yami has let them slack off enough already which will get them killed. Only a fool would go easy on them.”

You stopped, thinking about what he had just said. Because you were going easy with the rest of the Bulls. You were kind to them. And Nacht. So… so.

You couldn’t help but think that Nacht had, there and then, revealed what he really thought of you. Though it wasn’t directed at you, he had been, still, indirectly talking about you too. Basically he had called you weak and stupid.

Basically.

Which made your eyes turn to the ground as you bit down your molars and tried to will away the tears that were climbing to your eyes. Because you shouldn’t have taken such an off-hand comment that wasn’t even said to you, to the heart in such a way but… But. It had struck a nerve in you.

“Hm? What is it?” He asked, having stopped and turned around to look at you, as if he hadn’t realized what he had said.

“So you think that I’m dumb and weak?” You asked with bitterness lacing your tone as the tears finally glazed over your eyes, but didn’t roll down quite yet.

“That isn’t what I said,” he argued, now facing you fully and taking a few steps closer to you.

“But I am letting them off easier and I am being kind to them. So. If being kind and letting them have a breather is-“

“You’re not responsible for them.”

“Neither are you!” Now tears ran, but you didn’t look at him.

You didn’t look, and he said nothing.

Surely, he could have argued that as a vice captain he was more or less responsible, but not to the same extent as Yami. And at the end of the day, all the Bulls were responsible for themselves. So, he didn’t need to care about what they did with their time. Really.

“You are not weak and stupid,” he said while taking you by the hand. “Quite the contrary,” he admitted. “And I shouldn’t have spoken so carelessly.”

He sounded like he was speaking out a ready made dialogue of a noble man that he used to be. But you supposed that he hadn’t needed to comfort anyone lately either. If ever. If he had ever needed to comfort anyone. Even himself, since he had denied such a thing from himself.

But he could see how the ready made dialogue wasn’t doing it. The words might have been there, but the sentiment wasn’t.

“Darling?” He whispered, while moving again a little bit closer to you. “I’m sorry,” he said while summoning his shadows and tugging you, as if to ask to come along with him. To which you nodded, and he transported you both to your bedroom.

As you stood there, in the sanctity of the room with the door closed, he finally wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “You are not weak. Or stupid,” he repeated. This time the tone was one that sounded genuine, caring, insisting. “I’m sorry for insinuating it.”

You nodded and returned the embrace.

“It’s simply that… not being prepared can get people killed…” there was a reason, in there, why he would remind you of such a thing.

“But people need to live too.” And there was no arguing over it. Because life was meant to be lived.

Not even he could deny it. “They do…” he admitted while holding you closer in his arms.

And it was in that embrace that you could feel his heartbeat, his remorse and regret. But most importantly, you could feel how he did love you. Because he did. With his entire heart and soul.

#black clover fanfiction #black clover headcanons #black clover x reader #fuegoleon x reader #fuegoleon vermillion x reader #william x reader #william vangeance x reader #nozel x reader #nozel silva x reader #zora x reader #zora ideale x reader #nacht faust x reader #nacht x reader #fuegoleon vermillion #william vangeance #nozel silva #zora ideale #nacht faust

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