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pucksandpower · 2 months

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Something Sweet

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the story of your relationship … as told through gelato (in honor of Charles opening an ice cream shop)

The warm spring sun beats down on your face as you stroll along the winding streets of Monaco, gelato in hand. You savor each sweet bite, the rich hazelnutty flavor melting across your tongue.

This is bliss.

You just moved here to attend university and every day feels like a dream come true exploring your new home principality.

The picturesque buildings with their sun-baked stucco walls and colorful tiled roofs line the narrow alleyways. Locals bustle about, chatting rapidly in French as scooters whiz by. The air carries a tang of salt from the glittering Mediterranean just beyond the palace ramparts.

You could get used to this.

Suddenly, a body careens around the corner, slamming right into you. You stumble backward as the gelato goes flying, splattering across the quaint cobblestones in a sticky mess.

“Oh mon dieu, I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” A frantic voice rings out as a pair of strong hands steady you before you can topple over completely.

You look up, slightly dazed, into a pair of warm green eyes filled with concern. The man is clad in athletic shorts and a snug t-shirt, damp with sweat from an obvious run. Tousled chestnut hair flops across his forehead in an effortlessly tousled way.

He’s … incredibly handsome.

Like, stupid levels of handsome.

“I’m fine, really,” you stammer out, feeling your cheeks flush as his hands linger almost ... protectively on your arms. “Just clumsy me dropping my gelato.”

He grimaces, following your gaze to the melting puddle. “I’m such an idiot, let me replace that for you.” His face is the picture of remorse as he gently releases his grip.

You wave him off with an awkward chuckle. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal ...”

But he’s already shaking his head adamantly. “No, no I insist. That looked delicious and it’s entirely my fault.” He shoots you a lopsided grin that makes your heart skip a beat. “I know this amazing little place that makes the best gelato in Monaco. My treat to make up for barreling into you like that.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his earnestness as you nod slowly in acceptance. “Well, when you put it like that ...”

“Perfect!” He beams at you, that bright smile crinkling the corners of his eyes in the most delightful way. “I’m Charles, by the way.”

You introduce yourself as well as Charles begins leading you deeper into the winding backstreets, clearly knowing exactly where he’s going. You can’t help stealing sidelong glances at him as you walk, admiring the strong muscles of his arms and shoulders visible through his fitted shirt.

Finally, he ducks into a tiny alleyway, stopping before an unassuming doorway you surely would have just passed right by. A faded sign hangs above reading Gelatomania in curling script.

“This place is my favorite,” Charles confides in a conspiratorial murmur as he holds the door for you. “Family-run for generations and miles better than any of the touristy places.”

You step inside and are immediately enveloped in a thick, sugary aroma that makes your mouth water. A few little metal tables with rickety chairs are squeezed into the compact space, but it’s the immaculate glass cases lining the walls that draw your eye.

Filled with every flavor imaginable, the gelato looks utterly divine — from naturally green pistachio to decadent chocolate hazelnut to tangy lemon. An older woman with a grandmotherly face greets Charles like an old friend in rapid Italian from behind the counter.

He responds easily in kind before turning back to you. “What’ll it be? I recommend the hazelnut again if you liked your first one.”

You nod and watch, utterly charmed, as Charles places your order for a fresh hazelnut gelato with a deferential “per favore” and that knee-weakening smile of his. He gets a simple vanilla for himself before paying and leading you over to a little iron table outside in a sliver of sunshine.

You take your first bite and … oh my god. This is gelato from the heavens themselves. You can’t contain the downright blissful moan that escapes your lips as the divinely creamy, rich concoction melts across your tongue.

“Good, right?” Charles looks incredibly pleased at your rapturous reaction as he digs into his own treat with gusto.

“This might be the single most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted,” you admit fervently between increasingly enthusiastic licks and bites. “How have I survived this long without knowing this place existed?”

Charles throws his head back with a full-bellied laugh at your passionate proclamation. God, even his laugh is unfairly attractive ...

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” he grins around a mouthful of velvety vanilla. “I’ve been coming here since before I could walk. Quickly became my favorite gelato spot.”

“You’ve lived here a while then?” You ask between savoring bites of the impossibly luscious confection. “I only just moved for university.”

Charles nods as he licks a stray drip from his thumb. “Yeah, born and raised a few streets over actually.”

There’s a slight lull as you both focus on thoroughly demolishing your gelato for a few contented minutes, exchanging occasional muffled hums of sheer delight. The warm sun filtering through the awning casts a soft golden glow over the little alleyway, lending everything a dreamlike haze of perfection.

“So beyond being from here, do you have any exciting hobbies or interests?” You ask eventually, dragging the conversation back into the open.

“Well ...” Charles’ expression morphs into one of almost sheepish amusement as he leans back in his rickety chair. “You could say my hobby is also kind of my job. I’m actually a Formula 1 driver, believe it or not.”

You damn near choke on your next bite as his words register. “You’re what? As in ... a race car driver? In Formula 1? Seriously?”

There’s no way this stunning man is being truthful. Sure, he looks like he could be some kind of athlete with that perfectly toned physique. But a literal professional race car driver? The thought is almost too crazy to be believed.

Charles just laughs again at your dumbfounded reaction, clearly used to this response as he nods. “Seriously! I compete for Ferrari if you follow the races at all?”

You think you might pass out from shock as everything clicks into place — the athletic build, the way people seemed to stare as he passed them on the street, the laid-back confidence and easy smile of someone incredibly comfortable in their own skin ...

“Oh my god, you’re ... you’re Charles freaking Leclerc, aren’t you?” You gape at him in abject disbelief. “As in, the guy literally plastered on the huge billboard across from my apartment? Leading the championship? Incredibly talented and famous?”

He lets out an almost bashful chuckle at your rapid-fire incredulous questioning, shrugging one broad shoulder. “Well, I don’t know about incredibly talented or famous. But yes, that’s me — just your average local race car driver currently making an absolute mess while eating gelato.”

Here you sit, having just shared an utterly divine dessert while shamelessly ogling one of the most popular and well-known athletes in the damn world … and he’s acting like it’s absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Like you’re just two regular people enjoying a sweet treat together on a sunny day.

“I can’t believe I’m having this conversation right now,” you murmur, shaking your head slowly. “Do you have any idea how many people would kill to literally just ... sit across from you like this while you eat mediocre gas station ice cream, much less the world’s best gelato? I’m … stunned you’re so nonchalant about this whole thing.”

Charles merely flashes you a self-deprecating grin as he pops the last bite of cone into his mouth. “Well, to me you’re not some screaming fangirl, but just a lovely new friend I enjoy gelato with. Though my ego certainly appreciates the compliments.”

He winks at you impishly and you feel an unwitting smile tugging at the corners of your own lips despite your lingering disbelief. You suppose being surrounded by such incredible wealth and luxury every day in Monaco, Charles likely doesn’t register it anymore. Not to mention the clearly down-to-earth personality he seems to possess given that genuine humility.

The hours just seem to slip effortlessly by then as the two of you continue to chat and laugh and bask in the perfect afternoon contentment of the moment. Charles regales you with ridiculous behind-the-scenes stories about increasingly crazy bets with his friends and crew during the season. You share equally hilarious tales of your own coming-of-age mishaps as an overeager teenager.

At some point, you both reach for your long-empty dishes simultaneously, fingers brushing in a spark of contact that sends your pulse stuttering. Charles doesn’t pull back, letting his hand linger outrageously close to yours as his warm gaze stays locked intensely on your face.

You try to swallow past a suddenly dry throat as the atmosphere shifts abruptly, suddenly heavy with the hot crackle of unmistakable chemistry and unspoken tension. But then, just like that, the moment passes as quickly as it came.

Your phone buzzes loudly in your pocket with a text, the notification startling you both back to reality. Charles sits back, clearing his throat slightly as you pull your hand away to quickly check the message.

It’s from your roommate asking when you’ll be home for dinner and if you need her to start cooking.

You glance up at Charles with an apologetic grimace. “I should probably head back. I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten.”

He blinks rapidly before seeming to visibly shake himself. “Right, of course! Time really got away from us, didn’t it?”

You stand as Charles rises smoothly to his feet as well, shoving both hands casually in his pockets. “So ... I had a really great time with you today,” he says carefully, something almost hesitant flickering across his face. “And I’d love a chance to take you out again sometime soon, if you’re interested? Maybe grab dinner when I’m back in town?”

Your breath catches in your throat at the unmistakable request for an actual date. With Charles freaking Leclerc no less ...

Tamping down your sudden nerves, you nod slowly as a shy smile blossoms on your lips. “I’d really like that,” you admit truthfully. “Let’s definitely do dinner whenever you’re free.”

His whole expression brightens immediately at your affirmation, lips stretching in a wide grin of pure delight. “Perfect! I’ll be back from my next race in just over a week then. How about exchanging numbers so I can let you know as soon as I’ve returned?”

You quickly rattle off your number as Charles punches it into his phone before doing the same for you. As if sealing some unspoken deal, he sticks out his hand to shake yours, that warm roughened grip lingering perhaps a moment longer than strictly necessary.

“I’ll text you soon then,” Charles murmurs intently, that spark of heat flickering in his eyes again. “Promise me you’ll say yes this time.”

You can only nod mutely, mouth gone bone-dry at the pointed words and heated look washing over you. Charles maintains that blistering eye contact and heart-stalling grip on your palm for another loaded handful of seconds, leaving you dizzy with giddy anticipation.

Then, just like that, he releases your hand with one final squeeze before taking a step back, seemingly satisfied by your stunned agreement. Charles shoots you one last lingering look and crooked grin before turning to stride easily back the way you came.

You remain rooted in place for a long moment, utterly dazed by the entire surreal scenario as you watch his broad shoulders and narrow waist disappear down the narrow alleyway.

Today started out as any other nothing-out-of-the-ordinary spring day in your new home. But now … now you have an actual date scheduled with an unbelievably charming and disarmingly down-to-earth racing superstar.

A giddy giggle bubbles up from deep in your chest as reality finally settles in. Who could have ever predicted that bumping into your new acquaintance — quite literally — would lead to not only discovering the most heavenly gelato on the planet, but lining up a date with an internationally famous athlete?

Suddenly, your bright future studying in Monaco just got about ten thousand times more interesting …

***

The week passes by in a blur of anticipation after your initial meeting with Charles. You can barely focus during lectures, your mind constantly wandering to that charming grin and those warm eyes crinkling at the corners whenever he laughed.

Finally, the evening you’ve been eagerly awaiting arrives. You’ve just finished getting ready — pulling on a flowy sundress and brushing out your hair one last time — when your phone buzzes with a new text.

I’m outside whenever you’re ready for our date night. Looking forward to seeing you again 😘

You can’t bite back your giddy smile as you quickly reply that you’re heading out before taking one last steadying breath.

It’s just Charles … the internationally famous and absurdly handsome Formula 1 driver you’ve somehow managed to snag a date with.

No big deal at all.

The evening air carries a pleasantly cool breeze as you exit your apartment building, scanning the idling line of vehicles for Charles’ car. You spot him immediately, leaning against the gleaming metallic side of what you now recognize as an eye-wateringly expensive Ferrari.

Charles looks … unfairly gorgeous. He’s shed his athletic wear in favor of a simple white linen shirt and tailored slacks that somehow make him appear even more effortlessly suave. His hair is artfully tousled and damn if those clothes don’t accentuate every hard plane and corded muscle of his built frame.

You must be staring because suddenly Charles is pushing off from the car and straightening to his full height, those intense eyes crinkling warmly as soon as they land on you.

“You look stunning,” he murmurs appreciatively once you’ve drawn closer, making a show of trailing his gaze slowly up and down your figure. You’re abruptly grateful for the dusky twilight hiding your furious blush at the blatant admiration in his tone.

“Thanks,” you manage to get out without your voice shaking too noticeably. “You don’t look half bad yourself, race car man.”

Charles throws back his head with one of those deep-bellied laughs you’re quickly becoming addicted to. “Why thank you, gelato girl.” He shoots you a wink before surprising you by gallantly offering his arm. “Shall we?”

You take it without hesitation, reveling in the solid warmth of his bicep pressed against your side as Charles leads you to the waiting glossy black sports car. He opens the door for you like an old-fashioned gentleman, closing it carefully once you’re tucked inside the buttery leather interior.

The engine roars to life with a powerful rumble and you can’t resist shooting Charles an impressed look as he deftly maneuvers out onto the street.

“You know, I’m starting to think this little hobby of yours might not be too bad of a gig,” you tease lightly, waving a hand at the sleek interior compartment.

“I can’t complain,” Charles volleys back with a crooked grin, seamlessly navigating the tight turns of the old city. “Sometimes they even let me drive in circles really fast just for fun.”

You roll your eyes at his retort, but can’t quite wipe the smile off your face as Charles guns the engine, the car surging forward in a burst of speed and power. Clearly the man knows how to leverage any opportunity to show off those expert driving skills … not that you mind one bit.

Eventually, Charles pulls up in front of an unassuming doorway you never would have noticed tucked down a quiet side street. The understated sign above simply reads Trattoria Giovanni.

“This place has been run by the same Italian family for over fifty years,” Charles explains as he holds the door for you. “Best authentic cuisine in the city, but you would never find it unless you knew where to look.”

The interior appears to have been plucked directly from a rustic Tuscan villa — burnished wooden beams criss-crossing the curved ceilings and terracotta tiles underfoot. You breathe in deeply, savoring the mouthwatering aromas of garlic, tomato sauce, and fresh bread wafting from the open kitchen.

An older man with a thick mustache and crisp white apron greets Charles immediately in fluent Italian, ushering you both back to a cozy alcove table secluded in the very rear. He pours you both generous glasses of deep red wine before disappearing again with a conspiratorial wink in your direction.

“So, how was your race?” You ask between sips once you and Charles are alone, genuinely curious about the difficult career he’s managed to carve out.

He shrugs one broad shoulder almost dismissively. “Decent enough, I suppose. Grabbed another podium finish, but didn’t quite have the pace for the win.” There’s no disappointment or frustration in his tone as he speaks, just a simple statement of fact.

“I’m endlessly in awe that you treat accomplishments like that so casually,” you admit with a shake of your head. “Finishing in the top three in Formula 1 seems like the kind of thing most people would be over the moon about.”

Charles lets out a low chuckle at that, leaning towards you over the small table with eyes twinkling mischievously. “Well maybe I need to find a new way to impress someone like you then.”

You open your mouth to respond with a playful retort of your own, but Charles’ gaze has already strayed to somewhere past your shoulder.

“Ah, perfect timing then. Here’s Giovanni himself with our orders.”

Sure enough, the older man you spotted earlier bustles up with a tray overflowing with piping hot plates of food. He doles out the dishes methodically while rattling off a stream of explanations about preparations and ingredients that have clearly been passed down for many generations.

Everything looks and smells utterly divine — from the heaping bowl of glistening spaghetti blanketed in a simmering tomato sauce to the golden-baked chicken drenched in rosemary and olive oil. The endlessly affable Giovanni even sets down a small ceramic dish full of creamy pale cheese, patting Charles on the shoulder.

“The burrata for you and your lady friend. Freshly made this morning by my wife,” he declares proudly before whisking himself away again.

For the next blissful hour or two, you and Charles completely lose yourselves in this veritable feast for the senses. You savor each and every decadent bite — moaning around the pillowy strands of spaghetti and tearing off chunks of the crusty, herb-brushed breads to soak up the savory juices.

Charles, for his part, dives into the meal with just as much enthusiasm, occasionally reaching over to snag a bite off of your plate until you resort to smacking his wandering fork away between fits of laughter.

Stuffed and utterly content, you both eventually push away your long-cleared dishes to nurse the final sips of your wine as the evening stretches languorously on. You fall into these simple moments like an old habit by now — trading comfortable silences and contented looks between impassioned recounts of childhood anecdotes or musings about life.

Finally, as the candles on the small wooden tables begin to gutter and wane, Charles summons over your waiter to settle the check with a few murmured words and one of those knee-weakening smiles. Rising smoothly, he extends his hand in a wordless invitation for you to join him back out into the balmy evening.

This time, instead of heading for the car, Charles tucks your hand into the crook of his elbow before choosing a new direction — down a maze of narrow streets until you finally emerge along the harbor’s edge. Strings of twinkling lights reflect off the lapping waves while the soft strains of background music filter out from somewhere nearby.

“Feel like grabbing a little dessert to walk off that incredible meal?” Charles asks in a low murmur, bumping your shoulder conspiratorially.

You shoot him an incredulous look even as you nod. “You mean in addition to the literal feast we both just had?”

Charles tugs you closer to his side until your hips graze together as you match strides. “There’s always room for gelato,” he counters with an arched brow. “Besides, when in Monaco ...”

Any further protests die on your lips as Charles guides you around another tight corner to reveal that familiar cheerful gelato shop from your initial meeting. The old woman behind the counter greets you both like regulars already, no doubt thanks to Charles’ frequent patronage.

You maneuver through the small line until it’s your turn to order. “I think I’ll go with the tiramisu flavor this time,” you decide, mouth already watering at the prospect of that rich coffee and creamy goodness. “What about you? Mixing it up or still sticking with the basics?”

Charles shakes his head resolutely as he hands over a few crisp bills to pay for your treats. “Trust me, a heaping helping of simple vanilla is just as gratifying as all those overly complicated flavor combinations.”

You balk at his slander, bumping his shoulder with your own without any real heat. “How dare you insult my incredible palette like that?” You glare at him in mock offense. “I’ll have you know I have some of the most refined gelato taste in all of Monaco now.”

“Oh yeah?” Charles tips his chin down with a challenging smirk twisting his full lips. “Well what if I told you that vanilla is scientifically proven to be the most popular and beloved flavor in existence?”

“By who? Basic boring people?” You volley back mercilessly, eagerly leaning into the playful banter now. “If anything, those findings just demonstrated how sadly uncreative society at large is.”

Charles barks out a booming laugh as he grabs your hand and tugs you back out of the shop, gelato in the other. “You heathen! We’re clearly going to need to educate you on the finer points of flavor appreciation.”

Your eyes narrow dangerously even as you let yourself be lead to a nearby bench overlooking the gently lapping waves. “Oh, you’re on, Leclerc. Let’s see if your vanilla snobbery holds up after a taste of tiramisu heaven.”

You scoop up an exaggeratedly generous spoonful of the divinely rich, creamy gelato and make a show of savoring it with overstated moans of delight. “Oh my god, this is so good. Here, you have to try this! It’s life-changing.”

Charles wrinkles his nose even as you wave the spoonful enticingly in front of him. “Nice try but I would never cheat on vanilla!”

The two of you devolve into helpless laughter at that point, dissolving into breathless giggles over the ridiculous debate getting more outrageous by the minute. Finally, you relent in the battle, settling back into the cool metal of the bench and turning your face up to the inky sea of stars glittering overhead.

“You’re right though — sometimes simple really is best,” you admit finally in a softer tone, slowly licking another sweet bite off your spoon.

Charles hums in agreement next to you, shuffling closer until your arms brush together with body heat and contact. “The classics never go out of style.”

The next comfortable silence stretches out between you as you take your time savoring your treats while simultaneously drinking in the breathtaking view laid out before you. The water laps almost hypnotically at the shoreline, twinkling reflection of docked yachts bobbing gently on the calm surface.

A breeze skates across your bare arms, raising a faint ripple of goosebumps along your skin. Charles notices immediately, shifting even nearer until he can shrug out of the lightweight jacket he had been wearing.

Without a word, he swings the soft fabric around your shoulders, tucking it securely around your front. You burrow instinctively into the material, the lingering body heat and remnants of his cologne wrapping you up in an cocoon of soothing warmth and intoxicating comfort.

With your free hand, you toy idly with the collar until Charles’ arm comes up to curl around your shoulders, effectively enveloping you into his solid frame. You let your cheek tip onto the firm muscle of his arm as Charles squeezes you closer with a contented exhale.

Time becomes meaningless suspended in that perfect sea-side bubble, waves flowing rhythmically while you enjoy every last savored bite of your melting treats. You let the quiet inevitability of dropping your head onto Charles’ shoulder wash over you, his familiar cologne invading your senses until your entire world narrows to just him.

When Charles polishes off the final bite of his cone and you go to shift away, another cool gust skitters across the harbor. He tightens the arm curved around you, making no move to let you up or leave the cozy haven you’ve made.

“I could get used to evenings like this, you know,” he murmurs eventually, lips brushing the top of your head. “Just taking it slow and savoring each other’s company without a single worry or care beyond where to find the best gelato.”

You hum in sleepy agreement, luxuriating in the casual intimacy of having Charles wrapped so protectively around you. Part of you can scarcely believe how instantaneous and natural this connection has blossomed between you already. But another part feels like you’ve finally found your soul’s missing piece slotting seamlessly into place after stumbling around lost and incomplete for so long without ever realizing it.

The two of you remain suspended in that perfect, tranquil bubble for what could be minutes or hours more. You’ve completely lost track of any sense of time beyond the lullaby of the gentle waves and occasional murmur of Charles’ breathing ruffling your hair.

Eventually though, his stirring signals a slow return to the real world as Charles regretfully extricates himself from your entwined position with clear reluctance.

“I should probably get you back before your roommate starts to worry,” he says remorsefully as he slides off the bench to offer you a steadying hand up.

You accept it without hesitation, but can’t resist clinging to his jacket still cocooned around your shoulders, unwilling to shrug off that lingering cocoon of comfort and safety just yet. Charles notices, allowing a tiny grin to quirk one side of his mouth upwards as he takes in your refusal to part with it.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs with unmistakable heat in those hypnotizing eyes. “I may have to let you hang on to that one for a while.”

Your mouth goes abruptly dry at the blatant implications in his tone, but you manage a coy smile in return as you turn to make your way back towards wherever Charles has his car crookedly parked.

The streets are all but abandoned by the time you arrive at the discreet entrance of your apartment building. Charles hesitates a split second before rounding the front of the gleaming Ferrari to face you properly on the quiet sidewalk.

“Thank you for an incredible evening,” you say honestly, gazing up at his silhouette in the dim glow of the streetlamps. “I don’t think I can even put into words how special you’ve managed to make me feel these past couple weeks.”

His expression softens instantly. One calloused palm comes up to tenderly cup your jaw, tilting your face up towards his with feather-light reverence.

“The pleasure has been all mine, I assure you,” Charles rumbles in a low tone that steals your breath away. “I don’t think you’ll ever realize just how remarkable you are, ma belle.”

Your eyes flutter shut without conscious thought as his nose brushes yours. Charles’ lips glide torturously against your cheek leaving a blazing trail to the very corner of your mouth.

The softest, most infinitely gentle press of satin flesh on flesh and then he’s pulling back — his ragged exhale warm and intoxicating against your tingling lips. You chase his retreat on instinct, but Charles is already withdrawing further with clear reluctance.

“I’m afraid I don’t trust myself to take things slow quite yet if I stay,” he murmurs in a strained rasp, pupils blown wide and dark. “But I do hope you’ll allow me to make this our new gelato tradition from now on ...”

It takes you several faltering attempts to find your voice again, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of that lightning bolt of affection. Finally, you manage a jerky nod, sliding one trembling hand over his where it still cups your cheek.

“I want that more than anything,” you confess in a hushed tone. “Just ... promise me we’ll see each other soon.”

He releases a shuddering breath of unbridled relief, dipping his forehead to rest against yours. “Soon,” Charles vows lowly. “I promise.”

You stare up into his earnest eyes. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Charles’ lips quirk in that lopsided grin you already adore so much. “I’m counting on it.”

With obvious reluctance, he finally steps away, snagging your hand to press one last searing kiss to your knuckles that has your heart stuttering all over again. Charles holds your gaze as you carefully back away towards the entrance, unwilling or unable to fully turn your back until the very last moment.

You chance a glance over your shoulder as you reach the front doors. Charles is still there, unmoving in a pool of streetlight beside his idling Ferrari, hands shoved in his pockets as he tracks your every step until you’ve slipped safely inside.

Exhaling a shuddering breath, you lean back against the cool stone wall, fingers coming up to ghost across your still-tingling lips almost disbelievingly.

When you finally muster the courage to peek through the glass once more, Charles has moved to lean against the side of his car, head tilted back as he stares into the lobby with an unmistakable softness etched across those chiseled features.

You can’t resist pressing your palm to the pane in a gesture you know he’ll recognize. Sure enough, Charles’ intense gaze instantly snaps to lock on you from across the quiet street, expression melting into pure adoration and wonder. His lips shape the same promise he uttered just moments ago — soon — as your own quirk in a delighted smile.

One last impulsive spark of inspiration has you playfully blowing him a single kiss through the barrier between you. Charles catches the invisible token easily, hand flying up to press over that broad chest as he throws back his head with a laugh that you can’t hear but imagine with vivid clarity.

You stand there transfixed, drinking in every last detail of him — the effortless elegance he carries himself with, the striking planes of his handsome face, and those beautiful eyes glittering with a thousand unspoken promises under the streetlamps.

Finally, with your own vow to reunite pulsing between you, Charles slides behind the wheel of his car. The powerful engine roars to life, twin beams from the headlights sweeping up to briefly wash through the windows of the lobby in a silent farewell before he’s peeling away into the night back towards the glittering city center.

You remain at the entrance for several long minutes basking in the memory of Charles’ phantom embrace still clinging to your skin. Only once his Ferrari has faded into the distance do you finally turn towards the elevator up to your apartment — every footstep lighter than air in the wake of an evening that lived up to even your wildest dreams of romantic splendor.

The simple joy and humble pleasure of a perfect scoop of creamy gelato will always hold untold meaning now as the spark marking the start of something beautiful blossoming between you and Charles.

And, as you finally drift off that night with a permanent smile etched across your face, you know without a shadow of a doubt that no flavor in the world could ever compare to the sweet indulgence of a life together just waiting to be savored and explored.

***

The warm spring breeze carries the sweet floral scents of the Brera Botanical Garden through the air as you stroll hand-in-hand with Charles. His fingers are laced through yours, his thumb gently stroking over your knuckles. You can’t help stealing glances at his handsome profile — the defined jawline, those soft kiss-curled lips, those kind green eyes that always seem to be smiling even when the rest of his face isn’t.

“What are you looking at?” Charles says with an amused grin, catching you staring again. You just shake your head and squeeze his hand tighter.

“Nothing. Just admiring the view,” you tease. Charles laughs that bright, infectious laugh of his that never fails to make your heart flutter.

You come to a stop beneath a blossoming cherry tree, pale pink petals floating down around you. Charles turns to face you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Y/N … there’s something I want to talk to you about,” he begins, suddenly uncharacteristically nervous. You tilt your head curiously. “You know how passionate I am about racing, about Formula 1. It’s been my dream since I was a little boy.”

“Of course,” you nod, unable to stop a small smile. Charles’ love for motorsports is one of the many things you have come to adore about him.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately,” Charles continues, taking both your hands in his. “And I’ve realized that I want to have something else in my life too. A … passion project, you could say. Something that’s away from all the spotlight and pressure.”

Your brow furrows slightly as you try to imagine what he could mean. Charles has spoken before about potentially getting more involved in charity work or environmentalism on top of his racing career. But the almost childlike excitement dancing in his eyes tells you this is something different.

“I’m going to open a gelato shop,” he blurts out finally. You blink dumbly.

“A … gelato shop?” You repeat slowly. Out of all the possibilities, that was definitely not what you were expecting.

“Yes!” Charles grins broadly, clearly delighted by your surprise. “Think about it,Y/N. What’s more perfect than gelato made right here in the heart of Milano? And I’ve already found the ideal location — a little shop just across the street from here. Can’t you just picture it?”

He starts gesturing animatedly, that bright smile never leaving his face as he outlines his grand vision. You can’t help getting caught up in his infectious enthusiasm, even if the idea still seems a bit random.

“I’m going to call it Lec,” Charles says with a proud smile. You let out an undignified snort of laughter.

“Lec? Like your last name?” You shake your head in amusement. He looks almost offended by your reaction.

“No, no, not just my last name,” he corrects you seriously. “Lec as in … our last name. Yours and mine.”

The words hang in the air as realization slowly starts to dawn on you. You open and close your mouth dumbly as Charles takes a deep breath, sliding off the path onto one knee on the ground before you. With shaking hands, he pulls out a small black box from his pocket and flips it open to reveal the most stunning diamond ring you’ve ever seen.

“Y/N Y/L/N … you are my world, my everything,” Charles’ voice is thick with emotion as he gazes up at you. “I cannot imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side. I want to wake up every morning and go to sleep every night with you beside me forever.”

Tears are already welling in your eyes, one hand pressed to your trembling lips as you listen to the beautiful words.

“Will you ...” Charles’ voice catches in his throat and he has to clear it before continuing. “Will you do me the greatest honor and become my wife? Will you marry me?”

The last few words come out in a rush of breath. You’re vaguely aware of several other people in the gardens who’ve stopped to watch, but all you can see is Charles’ face — hopeful and vulnerable and so full of pure adoration for you.

“Yes!” You finally manage to choke out through your joyful tears. “Oh my god, yes! Yes of course I’ll marry you!”

Pure relief and blissful ecstasy bursts across Charles’ face at your answer. With hands trembling just as badly as yours, he eases the glittering ring out of the box and onto your finger where it nestles perfectly, the diamond catching the dappled sunlight.

Before you can even look at it properly, Charles is on his feet again, pulling you into his embrace and spinning you around in a deliriously happy circle. You cling to him, laughing and crying at the same time as he peppers every inch of your face with kisses — your forehead, your cheeks, the tip of your nose.

Finally, inevitably, his mouth finds yours in a long, deep, loving kiss that has your knees feeling weak. You get lost in the warmth of his arms around you, the gentleness of his hands cradling your face, the tenderness of his soft lips moving reverently against yours.

When you finally part, you’re both smiling so much it almost hurts, foreheads pressed together as you share the same breath. Charles brushes away a few stray tears on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb.

“I love you so much, mon cœur,” he murmurs softly. You mouth the words back to him before stealing another lingering kiss.

Hand-in-hand once more, Charles leads you out of the botanical gardens and across the street. You come to a stop in front of a quaint yet sizable storefront, the windows covered in brown paper and a faded For Lease sign still hanging crookedly in the door.

“Here it is,” Charles says, gesturing up at the building with undisguised pride. “What do you think?”

You take it in slowly, trying to envision what the space might look like once renovated and filled with cozy seating and the alluring scents of freshly-made gelato.

You picture the two of you working side-by-side behind the counter when Charles doesn’t have a race, laughing and bantering as you serve up delicious treats for smiling customers.

It’s such an endearingly normal, domestic dream compared to the fast-paced frenzy of the Formula 1 lifestyle. But standing here with your new fiancé, it feels absolutely perfect.

“I think … I think it’s going to be incredible,” you lean into Charles’ side and wrap your arms around his trim waist. He responds by kissing your temple and pulling you closer.

“Just think,” he says happily, his warm breath ruffling your hair. “We’ll be the owners of the best little gelateria in all of Milano.

“Sounds like heaven,” you smile. “Just be sure to make plenty of hazelnut and tiramisu for me.”

“Done and done,” he promises solemnly. “Though you know vanilla will always be number one in my book.”

“Oh really?” You arch an eyebrow challengingly. “Is that so?”

Without warning, you loop your arms around Charles’ neck and pull him in for a long, lingering kiss. You can feel him melting into your embrace, his arms snaking securely around your waist.

When you finally manage to pull apart again, you’re both slightly flushed and out of breath. Charles’ usually perfectly tousled hair is charmingly mussed from running your fingers through it. He looks at you with such naked affection and desire that your heart flutters.

“You know what?” He murmurs huskily, resting his forehead against yours. “I take it back. You’re definitely my favorite flavor. And I can’t wait to start this next chapter with you, mon amour.”

And with that promise lingering sweetly between you, Charles takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply once more, pouring every ounce of his devotion into the embrace.

You can taste forever on his lips.

When you finally part, grinning giddily at each other, Charles takes your hand and leads you back towards your next adventure. Whatever lies ahead, you know you’ll take it on fearlessly and joyously, side-by-side with the man you love more than anything in this world.

***

The reception hall is a whirlwind of joy and celebration as you take in the scene, your heart overflowing with love and happiness. The elegant decorations, the twinkling lights, and the smiling faces of your loved ones surrounding you all blur together in a beautiful haze.

You can scarcely believe this day has finally arrived — the day you’ve dreamed of for so long.

You turn to Charles, his warm green eyes sparkling with so much love, and your breath catches in your throat. He looks devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored tuxedo, his million-watt smile making your knees go weak.

This incredible man is now your husband.

“Hey you,” he murmurs, taking your hand and brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Having fun, mon amour?”

A joyful laugh escapes your lips as you nod enthusiastically. “More than I ever thought possible. I’m just … I’m so happy, Charles. I can’t believe we’re actually married!”

He chuckles, that rich laugh that never fails to make you melt. “Believe it, Mrs. Leclerc. You’re stuck with me forever now.” His expression softens as he cups your cheek tenderly. “I love you so much. I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You lean into his touch, savoring the moment. “I love you too, Mr. Leclerc. More than anything.”

A throat clears behind you, and you whirl around to see Arthur, your new brother-in-law, grinning mischievously.

“If you two lovebirds are done making everyone else nauseous, it’s time to cut the cake!” He teases, jerking his head towards the lavish gelato cake that sits on the dessert table.

Charles throws his head back with a laugh. “You’re just jealous that you don’t have someone as amazing as my wife to make gooey eyes at.”

Arthur rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Get your butts over there before I eat the whole thing myself.”

With a wink at you, Charles takes your hand and leads you towards the dessert table, the crowd of guests parting like the Red Sea to let you through. Your heart does a little flip as the magnificent gelato cake comes into view — a towering masterpiece of creamy gelato in vanilla, hazelnut, and tiramisu, all artfully swirled together and decorated with fresh fruit and chocolate shavings.

“It’s perfect,” you whisper in awe, giving Charles’ hand a squeeze.

He pulls you into his side with a content smile. “Not as perfect as you.”

The crowd applauds as you approach the cake, and a chorus of cheers and wolf whistles rises up. Straightening your shoulders with a grin, you pick up the gleaming cake knife and lock eyes with Charles, suddenly feeling bold.

“Ready to do this, husband?” You ask with a teasing lilt.

His eyes blaze with undisguised desire. “More than ready, wife.”

Together, you slice into the towering gelato cake, the creamy filling oozing out and already making your mouth water. Once you have a generous slice on a plate, you scoop up a spoonful and lock eyes with Charles again, arching an eyebrow in challenge.

His pupils dilate as he catches your meaning, a low growl rumbling in his throat. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, mon cœur.”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” You take a step closer, holding the spoonful of gelato up temptingly.

Charles tips his head back with a groan. “You’re killing me here.”

“Good thing you have me to bring you back to life then,” you quip, pressing the spoon to his lips.

He opens obediently, letting you slide the gelato into his mouth with agonizing slowness. His eyelids flutter shut as the flavors explode over his tongue, and he actually moans — deep and guttural and utterly sinful.

A choked sound comes from somewhere in the crowd. “Oh please, get a room!” Joris, Charles’ best friend and best man, calls out with a mixture of amusement and mortification.

Charles doesn’t even open his eyes, simply raising one middle finger in Joris’ direction as he savors the last of the gelato. When his tongue finally darts out to catch a stray bit on his lips, you feel an unexpected flare of heat low in your belly.

Okay, two can play at this game.

Deliberately holding Charles’ heated gaze, you dip your finger into the gelato drippings on the plate and slowly, so slowly, bring it up to your lips. You let the very tip of your tongue dart out to catch the sticky sweetness, swirling it around luxuriously. His Adam’s apple bobs as he watches you, jaw tense.

That’s it.

You slip your finger into your mouth fully, hollowing out your cheeks as you suck the gelato off with an utterly obscene sound. Charles’ knees actually buckle, and he grips the table behind him for support, pupils blown wide.

“You are so dead,” he growls under his breath, low and dangerous.

Unable to stop yourself, you let out a breathy giggle, drunk with a dizzying cocktail of desire and sheer bliss. Charles takes a half step closer, his eyes burning into yours. You quickly scoop up another fingerful of gelato, desperate to keep pushing those buttons and draw out that delicious intensity.

But before you can bring it to your lips, quick as a flash, Charles is on you. He drags you flush against his solid form, his free hand cupping the back of your neck to angle your mouth up to his. The scorching kiss steals the breath from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to his lapels for purchase.

When he finally breaks away, his eyes are blazing with unconcealed want.

“You missed a spot,” he rasps.

Then he’s ducking his head, and with one torturously slow lick, he clears the stray bit of gelato from the tip of your nose. The heat of his tongue on your overly sensitive skin makes you whimper.

The catcalls and whistles from your guests fade into white noise as you melt against your husband, lost in the endless depths of his hungry gaze. Screw being appropriate — you’ll give them all a show to remember if you have to.

“Fuck, I love you,” Charles rumbles, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire.

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again — deep and thorough and all-consuming. You sigh into his mouth, bunching the fine material of his tuxedo jacket in your fists to pull him even closer. His hand slides from your neck into your hair, cradling your head reverently as he pours every ounce of his love and passion into the kiss.

An eternity later, he breaks away with a ragged breath, resting his forehead against yours. “I think it’s time to get out of here, don’t you?”

You can only nod breathlessly, already imagining the deliciously wicked things he has in store. As if in a trance, you allow him to take your hand and lead you towards the exit, shouting and wolf whistles following in your wake.

Just before you slip out of the hall, you hear Pierre Gasly’s teasing voice behind you.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you two!”

Charles pauses only long enough to call over his shoulder, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“But there’s nothing you wouldn’t do!”

Then he’s sweeping you into his arms with a playful growl, carrying you into your new life together as man and wife. Peals of laughter and cheers chase you down the hall, but you only have eyes for each other in this perfect moment.

You’re married to the love of your life. You have forever with this incredible man. And if the wedding is anything to go by, forever is going to be deliciously amazing.

Literally.

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chaedomi · 7 months

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AGRICHE TO PEDELIAN

SUMMARY . flowers don't attract butterflies alone. suddenly, others are gravitating to you, expanding your long list of obsessive admirers. pt. 1

CHARACTERS . THE BLUE PEDELIAN

WARNINGS . YANDERE, female child reader, platonic, ooc, kidnapping, mild injury, implied violence, unhealthy relationships (if i missed any, kindly alert me)

WORDCOUNT . 2.4k+ / MASTERLIST.

HOW DID it end up like this? It all happened in the span of one night while you were asleep. And when you reopened your eyes, you quickly discovered that you were no longer inside your bedroom. You had time to explore every place in your manor, so when you couldn’t identify which part of the manor you were in, you began to panic and overthink.

Your distress got worse when a silver-haired female burst into the room and grabbed you into a hug as if there wasn’t some problem with this. At this point, you began to cry, fully convinced that you were kidnapped, pushing the woman away from you, and startling her. It was in chaos for a while, your screams mixing with your words as you wailed for your freedom. The woman tried to reassure you with sweet words, inclusive of the maids present who stepped in to assist by dangling pretty jewelry in front of your face to distract you.

Unfortunately, their efforts to appease you only increased your wails. When a masculine figure barged into the room this time, it was only then you stopped crying, in favor of blinking at him while the stray tears fell from the corner of your eyes. Staring at the male, you knew he looked familiar, your panicked mind just couldn’t identify who.

When he approached you with a gentle smile, patted your head, and began this monologue of ‘protecting’ you, you finally put the pieces together; this male was no other than the heir of The Blue Pedelian, CASSIS. Oh, boy…

In truth, your kidnapping was all ROXANA's fault, and she had no choice but to admit that. God forbid if her family found out that she was the whole reason for your disappearance, it would even make her kind-hearted mother hold some form of grudge against her and result in her execution. Luckily, no one was able to trace the doings back to her… except her red-eyed freak of an older brother.

Satisfying her curiosity was not worth it. As they say, it killed the cat. Now, she was stuck reaping the consequences of her stupidity; distraught over your disappearance, and additional work that could have been avoided, in her plan.

…If her life didn't depend on his, you bet she would have already retaliated without mercy. How foolish, she gave him an inch and he took a mile.

But, who is to blame other than herself? To explain, it was a fleeting thought that crossed her mind one morning to which she initially paid no mind… till it stubbornly stuck inside her brain. From what she remembered, in The Abysmal Flower, Sylvia displayed extreme and obsessive feelings toward you, despite being the enemy, willing to risk her safety to keep you by her side. Due to her intervention, however, Sylvia remained out of the picture. Still, she began to wonder.

If Sylvia wasn’t immune to your adorable charms, could it possibly be the same for Cassis? And thus, it marked the beginning of her little experiment. It came as no surprise to her that Cassis was on guard when she first introduced you to him. After all, almost every Agriche child was a demon spawn.

Regardless of the precautions Cassis took, his guard quickly crumbled once he was exposed to your innocence and purity, much to Roxana’s amusement. His hostile attitude quickly evaporated, he even held you on his lap (with Roxana’s permission), reciting stories that would intrigue a child your age. …She wished he was that cooperative with her as well.

She continued this pattern for a few weeks… every day, she would spare some time to take you to Cassis and observe how it played out in the distance. And each time, it never failed to entertain her. A righteous and kept man like him becomes nothing more than a slave for a child, an enemy’s child. She was long satisfied with her discovery, it’s just that Cassis was always in a better mood and more willing to listen after he spent his time with you.

But the day Cassis got too comfortable and had the guts to refer to you as one of his SIBLINGS, she realized, she may have spoiled him too much. She never had a problem when Sylvia referred to you as her ‘little sister.’ However, that was BEFORE she was thrown into the novel world. Now that she had the opportunity to experience your kindness herself, anyone who tried to make their claim on you outside the family is nothing LESS aggravating. And that was the end of your little visits.

That’s when it went downhill. Of course, Cassis was quick to pick up on your sudden absence throughout the days. He tried to ask, but once Roxana's tone progressively got more aggressive the longer he persisted, he finally got the hint. He wasn't seeing you again.

Roxana was grateful that Cassis had shut his mouth after a while. But, she found it odd how compliant he remained without your presence. More so, she hated the way he stared at her, a hidden intent she couldn't figure out in his eyes. It intensified when she gave him a map of the manor, a faint sighting of a smirk ghosting his lips. …Out of all people, Roxana would have never expected Cassis to kidnap someone. Trust no one, as they say. What an arse… Repaying her good deeds with this.

And so, the manor of The Black Agriche was thrown into a frenzy, having lost something very precious. Unless Roxana wanted to stir more trouble with hasty actions, she must sit quietly for now. …At the very least she didn’t need to worry about your safety. Unlike The Black Agriche, The Blue Pedelian will never torture their captives, let alone a young child like you…

Meanwhile, you were having your own crisis. This was a very drastic change. Although the violent nature of your family often terrifies you, you have grown used to it… kind of. Now, with the serene environment of The Blue Pedelians, you've grown antsy, anticipating some form of chaos to arise.

Ignoring how he took you without your agreement (no matter how hard he tried to justify his actions in a good light), you felt more comfortable being around CASSIS than the rest of the family. You weren’t sure if the times spent together back in your manor contributed to your lack of fear around him or relieved over the fact that your situation could have been very worse, and you didn’t care all that much. Cassis's attitude toward you didn’t change from when he was held prisoner, instead, his doting habits only increased now that his actions were not limited and monitored. He spoils you a lot, more than he spoils his younger sister. He will try his hardest to provide whatever you want, as long as it stays within the 'reasonable' range.

And by 'reasonable' he means, stop asking him to return you home. Suddenly, he understood Roxana's frustration. Is this what she felt when he continuously persisted? He doesn't get why you would want to return home out of all places; your family is vile.

It's not like you wanted to return, you had to. Although you wished to run away and never return, the odds were still not in your favor for you to make your escape plan. Something also told you that residing in The Blue Pedelian Manor was its own kind of hell…

The possible feud that can brew if your whereabouts were revealed made your skin crawl with fear. Knowing your value between the two families as well, you would be caught in the crossfire, and who knows what would happen to you then… You were trying to make things better for you, not destroy all your chances.

Cassis still didn't listen to your concerns (he never does), shutting down your complaints with a stern glare. …You just hope whatever war was to break out, it would happen later rather than sooner…

Just what was wrong with you? He’s trying his hardest to get you accustomed to your new surroundings, spoiling you with gifts, spending time with you along with his sister, anything to put you at ease. Yet, you just didn’t care! All you did was flush his efforts down the drain. He thought he was making progress with you, so he would never expected it, hell, even imagined it. But, when he caught you creeping around the exit gates, your freaked-out expression said it all. Now, here you were, leg chained to the bedpost back inside your prison-like bedroom. Seeing you chained up reminded him of himself, and it was interesting to see the roles switch to some extent. Truthfully, your tears pained him, but, he didn’t see the point in you crying. He wasn’t doing anything bad and he wished that you’d stop acting as if he was.

"Why can’t you understand that this is for your benefit?"

Oh? SYLVIA adores you? Why, that's no secret and is obvious to anyone who witnesses the interaction between you and her. Why wouldn't she love you!? You're everything she ever wanted in a younger sister… well, minus the looks, but, she can get past that!

MORE doting than Cassis, it's overbearing, honestly. Ever since your first encounter, you don't remember a time when you were left alone; it's always some lousy excuse to be around you. She hugs, kisses, cuddles, squishes, and any affectionate gesture she can think of, she does it to you. It was like she was trying to merge herself with you.

Honestly, her compassion spooked you. Her behavior reminded you a lot of your second stepmother, Maria. So, you weren't surprised when she had some hostile reaction whenever a maid would unintentionally interrupt your 'bonding' time. The sweeter they are, the more aggressive. Well, at least there weren't any dead bodies scattered on the ground…

Have you ever been so upset that you began to cry? Sylvia is a perfect demonstration of that. Perhaps you were right to compare her to Maria, the rage evident on her face was akin to the deadly glare your stepmother wore when she was furious. Flashbacks clouded your mind of how Maria snapped when a servant accidentally spilled milk on your gown. This situation was much different; a maid somehow cut your hand with the teacup. The one time Sylvia thought it was a good idea to let you get some fresh air outside your room, the fun atmosphere was ruined by something silly as this. It’s no surprise if your family lashed out, but to see a sophisticated woman such as Sylvia spew out words of profanity and behave so hostile was unexpected. At the very least, you appreciated she held back for your sake. With the way her hands shook with rage the longer she chewed out the maid, you had the impression Sylvia wanted to do much more than a stern talking to.

“There you are! I looked for you everywhere. I was beginning to worry that you’ve run away, but, you won’t do that to me, right?”

Your fear of RISCHEL was reasonable. Given his position inside his household, you two never met that often. However, the rare times you do meet, his piercing gaze never fails to make you shrink back on yourself. If you think about it, his hateful attitude made sense. You were one of the many offsprings of his biggest enemy, Lante, and said enemy kidnapped his son and tormented him mercilessly. Some of his son’s many torturers included Lante’s children, so you could just imagine the many scenarios that went through his mind. You don’t blame him if he was tempted to torment you, solely for Lante having a taste of his own medicine.

While Rischel’s expression came across as wanting to bury you six feet under, in truth, he was very much intrigued by your existence. It was confusing to see his son return with an unconscious child after escaping. And for a moment he feared that his son went mad when the child held in his arms was an Agriche and pleaded for your protection.

He was hesitant (for good reason) but ultimately agreed in the end. If his son saw something valuable in you, then there must be some worth in keeping you around. However, it didn’t mean he automatically trusted you. Without your knowledge, he monitored you, planting eyes everywhere. Any suspicious activity he was informed of would be enough validation for him to throw you out with no hesitation.

…So how exactly did his wariness morph into overwhelming softness toward you? (like father like son) The feeling just dawned upon him and he noticed it all: your mannerisms, your innocence, it slowly rubbed on him in a positive light. This was strange. He wonders if you had used a spell on him, no one should fall under anyone’s whims so suddenly as if you possessed this charm that melts even the hearts of the cold-blooded. But, oh, did the feeling around you feel so nice. And soon, he simply gave in to the desire to love you and protect you.

You realized how much more tolerable he became of your presence, to your relief. Even so, the feelings you saw on the outside couldn’t begin to compare to the rapidly developing obsessive feelings he harbored for you. And by the time you began to pick up on the dangerous signals, the damage was already done.

You were beyond speechless when you looked into the reflection of the mirror, staring at someone else entirely. Her hair was a shade of pure silver, and her eyes resembled the golden rays of the sun. As you reached your hand out to touch the glass, your body froze as reality sunk in. This was not another person, but rather you, with a new appearance and identity you were forced to carry. Looking over your shoulder, you glanced at the faces of Rischel, Cassis, and Sylvia, hoping for all of this to be one big joke. But, the pleased glances they returned alerted you that this situation was far from a joke, and you had to accept your new fate.

“Sylvia was correct. This look suits you perfectly.”

You were stressed and rightfully so. How could all of this happen? And why did it have to be you? You were still young and didn’t deserve to deal with these problems. In such a short amount of time, along with new obsessors formed, you temporarily resigned to a new lifestyle, switching from agriche to pedelian.

©chaedomi. please do not modify, edit, copy or reproduce any of the works published.

#🥛━ 𝓒𝐇𝐀𝐄 #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #twtptflob #twtptflob x reader #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #child reader #female reader

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starlightdreaming · 2 months

Text

100 FOLLOWER SPECIALL :DD (the voices won.)

Lucifer x Slime! Bunny! Reader! NSFW!!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content Warning: (SUPER LONG ASS SMUT) Heat cycles, Body worship, Biting, Slime(Everywhere), PredatorNPrey kink(?), Breeding kink, Belly bulge, Dacryphillia, Oral (received) (THE MF EATS U OUT), Overstimulation, Lucifer’s Tail (erm-), BDSM (like all of them? I dunno…), Corruption Kink. (I don’t know what all the kinks are spare ya gal.) (Nothing is proofread either.)

READER BASED OFF MY PERSONA

SO ITS SELF INSERT??? Yeah. I’m down bad for this man, no shame.

Synopsis: You were a maid that worked at Lucifer’s mansion, you were his favorite too! so what happens when you are in one of your heat cycles? >:]

this stories delusions is brought to you by:

(optional but not really recommended)

You were humming softly as you made breakfast for your majesty. It was a daily routine for you to bring him breakfast to his bed, his usual being pancakes with a touch of cinnamon and apples.

At first when you were accepted to his abode to work, all you did was clean, he never batted an eye at you as you wandered the halls to sweep off dust on every corner of his walls, you didn’t mind it since you got to mind your business all you wanted, no pressure applied, even when you had traded your soul to the king to even have this job, it was all the much better when he didn’t ask of anything from you.

One day, his butler was sick, leaving you to cooking, anyone could have done it but if it wasn’t to the kings liking, they could have lost their jobs- at least what the maids would say. So they threw the task at you, the newbie.

It wasn’t that worrying of a task since you were always cooking for your siblings when you were alive, you always made exquisite dishes for your brothers and sisters to enjoy, oh how you missed those days of making hearty meals for them. So when you had the chance to make something for someone now? You were going all out.

You were thrown into the kitchen by the other maids, you were more excited than bothered by their force, you began making the pancake batter, adding a bit of cinnamon and apples into the mix, you saw your king always wore an apple on his hat so you assumed he liked apples. You made a stack of four fluffy pancakes, adding syrup on it before exploring the kitchen, trying to find fruits and such to add onto the meal to make it more pleasing to enjoy, to eat and to look at.

When you finished, you made him morning coffee, since you didn’t know what his coffee preferences were, you hoped your favorite blend would better suffice than taking a wild guess. You put the meal and drink onto the tray table, leaving the kitchen to walk to your masters room, careful as to not drop the meal you had put your heart and ‘soul’ into. You were so focused into what you were making

Before you entered his room, you knocked, awaiting his “come in.” to enter his room. You saw he sat at his work desk, uninterested to turn and look at you, you weren’t sure what to do next, you never really ever got to see the king this close, nor enter his rooms for that fact. You were just tasked to clean the halls, thats it.

You nervously walk up to his side, putting down the plate and coffee on to his work desk, “Your meal, your majesty.” You bowed, awaiting for him to dismiss you but when he heard your unfamiliar voice, he turned to you, seeing your uniform was covered in pancake mix that had already dried on your maid dress, you smiled at him nervously as he looked at your semi-transparent slime body, “Where is my butler?” he asked, “he’s the one that’s supposed to make me breakfast.” Your heart seemed to chip away, sensing that he might not like the breakfast you made him, he didn’t even look at it, “He is sick, your highness,” you explained, gripping the tray tightly in more nervousness, “I was tasked to make your meals today.” you say, putting up a facade to hide how much you were internally screaming.

“I see,” He says, looking back to his work, “dismissed.” he says as he waved you off, making your heart chip again, you were hoping to see his reaction to how much effort you had just made into the meal but seeing as you’re just a lowly maid in his home, it made sense he didn’t expect much from you.

You left the room without a second glance, not seeing how he had looked at you before looking at the pancakes.

Through the rest of your day, it was all normal. Nothing was reported to you and you weren’t tasked with the rest of the days cooking which made you confirm in your head that maybe he wasn’t satisfied with your cooking skills. It hurt to accept but all that mattered was you got to keep your job at least.

It wasn’t until the next day that whilst you were wiping down windows in the hall, Lucifers personal butler had walked up to you, tasking you again to make the same breakfast you had done the day before, You smiled as you got up and went to the kitchen again, leaving your main duties behind, all your doubts from yesterday vanished as you replicated the meal, going back to his room with a smile, “Your meal, your majesty.” You bowed to him, before putting the meal on his desk once again.

He looked at you this time, making your heart stop for a moment, “Where did you get your cooking skills?” he asked, his attention completely on you, your ears lie back in shyness, “Oh- well, I was self taught.” You say as you held onto the tray, resting it under your fingers, “How come your skills have gone unnoticed?” He says, pulling the plate toward him, grabbing his silverware to cut through the ‘cake to take a bite, you smiled gently as your heart fluttered from joy, “I applied to just clean, there wasn’t any spot open for cooking.” you explained as you swayed side to side in one spot, you couldn’t contain your excitement and joy as he ate your meal, “How about you become one now? Would you like that?” He offered before taking another bite, making you bring the tray to your chest, “really? you mean that?” You smiled, your ears perking as they held up close together as you leaned toward his desk slightly, “of course, why wouldn’t I? You can start anytime you want.” He smiled at you, you jumping in joy, “thank you so much, your majesty! I can make lunch later today! you won’t be disappointed!” You say as you slightly began to run out of his room, forgetting your formality, “oh, uh-“ you realized, before quickly bowing to him and leaving his room, slightly embarrassed.

Ever since that day, you had always made his meals.

Over time, you had slowly made a bond with him, becoming his favorite maid and his favorite chef, it wasn’t long ‘til he made you his personal butler, you waking him up for the day and being at his side almost 24/7 practically.

You didn’t even need to knock anymore as you busted his door open everyday with passion and enthusiasm, “Rise and shine, Lulu!” You would call him, waking him from his slumber, unbothered from how much energy you radiated, he’d sit up as you placed a tray his bed, making your usual for him, he smiled every time you sat on his bed further from him, talking about how your day went or rambled on about your past life on earth, he had found out you ended up killing your parents from how they neglected and abused you and your siblings, you had told your siblings that they left for good, nothing else. It was a surprise to him but it was understandable from your living conditions, he loved just listening to you, day in and day out though, whatever topic it may have been, he wasn’t listening to what you would tell him but more focused on your voice, after six years of this daily routine, it wasn’t long until he would ponder what you would sound underneath him, how you would writhe and whimper to his touch.

He had shook the thoughts at first but the more he saw you in his day to day life, those thoughts always bubbled and spilled out the more he tried to bottle them up, they only got worse when you would be gone for two weeks or so, knowing you as a bunny hybrid, whenever you were having a heat cycle coming or running, your slime would often secrete more off your body, dripping. One time it had gotten so bad, a blob of your slime just went splat on the floor in Lucifer’s room, right in front of him.

You had cleaned it with a bunch of spewed apologies, your face flustered and gaze full of lust, you left the room in a hurry. Leaving Lucifer dumbfounded. To him, that gaze you gave him with lust and tears in your eyes, riled something in him. When you were gone for two weeks after that, his mind was just thinking about that moment and you and only you, those thoughts he tried so hard to brush off were flooding his mind during your absence, he knows he could just go see you and help you and he wanted to do just that more than anything, but he refused to, he didn’t want to take advantage of you in any sort of way, he’d rather fall from the Heavens a million times than ever force his way onto you, you meant too much to him, his heart couldn’t bare how much he loved you.

When you came back from your cycles, you were back with your usual bright, loud and enthusiastic demeanor, your slime body reduced back to normal to being jelly like than melting-ish, and droopy. Whenever you came back, his mind would never settle down, his eyes would always trail at every curve of your body when you weren’t looking, you were so mesmerizing in his eyes, every flaw was a grace of beauty to him, he loved every moment with you, even when you sat and did your own thing while he focused on his work, you just being there was just enough comfort for him to settle down in place and do his job before finishing for the day and spending it with you.

At that point, he saw you as your own person, not just some maid that wandered his ‘castle’. Sometimes when you look at him with doe eyes, he couldn’t help but look away, you had him under such a trance, you didn’t even know how much he was wrapped around your finger. Whenever you wanted or requested something, you’d get it instantly, no questions asked, whenever you smile at something or him, his heart flutters, craving more of that smile, he loved when you praised him, comforted him or was there for whatever reason at all, his stomach always felt butterflies, it was always bad whenever you accidentally brushed touches without you noticing, he craved your touches so much, he always tried to find ways to have contact with you, even if it meant asking you to groom his wings. Worst and best decision of his life.

This man was such a mess for you, he’d even wake up from dirty dreams about you, flustered and flushed, panting heavily as if he sat up quickly in the late nights or early mornings, the tent in his pants were always visible during these dream incidents, it was happening way more then often that when he woke up this morning, he woke up gripping and clawing the bed sheets, his horns and tail displayed as he growls lowly, he was panting heavily as he just began to cry in frustration, it wasn’t long until you busted the door open, making him jump out of his thoughts, “rise and shine- oh! you’re already awake.” you say before realizing he was out in his demon form, he looked away from you, noticing that your body was secreting slime again, knowing what time it was for you, “are you okay? what happened?” You ask with concern closing his door, expecting him to have another rant about his ‘nightmares’ he claims to have, more and more.

You sat his meal in front of him, you sitting close as he kept his gaze away fron you, hoping you didn’t notice the dry tears he tried to wipe away, “Oh, Lulu, are you crying?” You ask, knowing he only avoids your gaze when he doesn’t want you to something. He ignored you when you asked, making you slightly upset he won’t talk to you, you cupped his face, making him turn to you, “look at me, Lulu,” You said softly to him, “was it another nightmare?” you asked, his eyes widened as he blushed lightly from how close you were to him, he nodded quietly, feeling flustered from his thoughts of you, “Oh, Lulu.” You swooned, bringing his face to your chest, holding him lovingly, he only blushed harder as your body produced more, slime was now on his face, your scent not going unnoticed as you smelled like a mixture of sweets.

When you pulled away, you hands still holding his face, you saw your slime was now on his face and you back your hands away from him in shock, “oh my goodness I’m so sorry-“ you said, trying to sit up, only to somehow drop his tray of food onto the ground making you more embarrassed, “Oh- oh my stars, I’ll get something to clean that! I’ll be right back!” You stuttered, leaving the room quickly as Lucifer frog blinked, processing what just happened in the span of ten seconds.

He licked his face clean, forgetting it was your slime and not his food that was all over his face, he honestly expected to gag in distastes but his thoughts immediately ran wild again when he realized how fucking sweet your secretions were, it was one lick after another before his face was clean and he was craving more. Although you were bringing him more breakfast for him to eat, he didn’t want to eat what you had to offer, no. He wanted you. With a snap of his fingers, the mess you left was gone, the lights were off and he was missing from his bed.

You entered the room, cursing yourself under your breath for forgetting what time it was for you, “Lulu, I’m-“ you tried to apologize again, only to see the room was dark and he was gone, “Lulu?” you called for him again, trying to turn on the lights, only for it to not turn on, you put the new tray of food on his nightstand before looking around his room for him, noticing the mess you made was now gone.

“Lulu? Where’d you go?” You asked worriedly, before you felt something drop on your head, it felt like a droplet of water, you looked up to see Lucifer hanging upside down as he stared at you with eyes full of desperation and lust, “L-Lulu?” you asked, a little worry now in your voice as your legs clanged together from the heat in your core, seeing how hot he was upside down, his full demon form out and his tail swaying down towards you left and right.

“Do you know how sweet you taste, my dear?” Lucifer asked, tilting his head, “Wh-what?” You asked a little confused. “Your slime,” he says, jumping down from the ceiling as his eyes glowed in the dark, his eyes glinting like a wolf stalking its prey, you stepped back as he began to walk closer to you, you didn’t even realize you were walking back towards the bed as both of your eyes stayed locked with one another, “The slime you secrete is so fucking delicious,” he growls as he claws the bed with both hands, you in-between him.

Your legs closed together more as you rubbed them together for friction, your maid dress sticking to your slimy skin, you whimpered softly from desperation as he leaned closer to your face, eyes never adverting, “christ, you have no idea what you do to me, dearest.” he whispers, growling under his breath as he tried his best to resist ravishing you then and there.

“What do you mean, Lulu?” You whispered as well, leaning toward his face, lips brushing from the desire and cravings of one another, “I love you, Y/n, so so much,” he confesses desperately, his eyes gazing to your lips before looking back at you, “Please, let me taste you again, please, please.” he begs, leaning more into your touch, when you cupped his face again, you falling back into his bed, an arm keeping you up, “Luci..” You say softly, “I never thought would ever love me.” You confess as well, “Why is that?” He asks, his heart chipping that you think that, “well, I’m a maid, I thought that was all I was going to be.” you say, looking away from him, sadness pooling your eyes as he leaned more into you, “don’t say that, love,” he whisper shouts as he brings a finger under your chin to make you look back at him, “I love you so much, darling, please let me show you that I do.” He begs, your eyes looked into his, his eyes sparkling from genuine, both your heads leaning into to touch as you closed your eyes, “okay..” you smile before you both leaned in to each other, kissing slowly but passionately, he leaned into the kiss more desperately, you leaning into him as well, making the kiss deeper.

You moaned in the kiss, the feelings you hid away for your king, blossoming out your chest. You pulled away panting, breathing for air as Lucifer looks at you dazed, you smile before grabbing his collar with both your hands, bringing him down with you onto the bed, locking lips again but more desperately than the last. You trailed your hands to his hair, wrapping one arm around his neck as you intertwined your fingers into his locks, brushing them. You pulled away again, opening your mouth a gap to let Lucifer have a taste of you, he didn’t hesitate as he stuck his tongue into your cavern, exploring all of your mouth as he tasted you, a growl rumbled from his chest as he desperately kissed you roughly.

You moaned through the make out session as you felt his body push down between your legs, your layers of clothes not giving you the friction you desperately wanted, making you buck your hips up to his body as well, “ffuck- don’t do that, love.” he warned, pulling his lips away from yours as he whined desperately, a trail of saliva connecting you both.

You cupped his face as you brought him back to your lips again, tongues colliding and fighting for dominance, he tucked his hand behind your waist, grabbing the ribbon that kept your dress tight, yanking it harshly, making its ties go undone, making you breathe easily. You moaned again as he tasted your flavors, it was always changing for whatever reason, grape.. raspberry.. strawberry.. It was making him wild that you had tasted so divine all this time without his knowing.

He was getting desperate as he began to grind against your clothed core, you whimpered in desperation as you tried to close your legs with him between them. He pulled away from the kiss, licking his lips as he looked down at your submissive state with lust and desire, “You are so beautiful darling.” He says as wipes his chin with his thumb, licking slime off his wrist as he watched your reaction, you blushed as you looked away, embarrassed.

“You’re so divine.~” He says as he lays on top of you, locking your hands with his, pinning you down as his arms were keeping him up as he kissed your lips, your cheek, down to your neck, nibbling slime secretions before licking them up, off your chest, his kisses were making you writhe under him, squirming in desperation. He couldn’t help but laugh lightly before sucking softly on your jelly skin, slurping up your secretions like jelly candy.

His teasing while in your cycle was sending your body haywire, you needed friction and he was refusing to give you any, “please, please, Luci.” You begged, not knowing what you were really begging for, “Please what, darling?” He asks, moving away from your chest and tilting his head like he wasn’t depriving you of what you desperately wanted, “Please, please fuck me or something- I can’t- can’t take this any longer.” You cried as your body shivered from his touch, a finger trailing down from you neck to your chest, Lucifer scooping up a bit of your discharged slime like icing from a cake, licking his finger as you whimpered under him.

“Alright, I’ll give you what you deserve, dove.” He coo’d, kissing the side of your chin, before trailing down off the bed, his tail swaying side to side desperately as he lifted up your dress, you looked away embarrassed as he did, he sat on the floor as be shoved his head desperately between your legs, you yelped in surprise before you realized he pulled away, you look back at him, seeing your white panties torn against his bare teeth, you blushed furiously as you stared at him. He spat away your panties, discarding them to the floor before he leaned in in-between your legs again, clawing your jelly legs as he lifted then up for him to have more access to your core, you lifted your dress up with one hand, wanting to see what he was doing.

He snaked out his long forked tongue, looking at you teasingly before pushing himself into your core, tasting all of you now, you moaned in sudden pleasure, your body exuding more secretions, “ohh starss Lulu..” You moaned out, making him rile more as he stuck his tongue more deeply in you, tasting you more and more, shameless slurping noises coming from him.

You gripped the bed sheets, bucking your hips more desperately, “more, more luci..” you begged, as he shoved his face as deeply as he could but it wasn’t enough for you. You tried to grip his hair, making him more deeply but you were still desperate, you were bucking your hips into his face, practically face fucking him at that point but it wasn’t until you felt yourself nearing your limit, you then noticed his horns, if grabbing his hair wasn’t enough for you, his horns were.

You gripped his horns making him shiver and moan in surprise before you stroked them and used them against him, grinding yourself against his face as he growled from the sudden grip of yours. “Oh fuck, yes, that’s it Luci…” you moaned louder, making his tongue reach the furthest parts of you, thrusting his tongue in and out if you, “oh, fuck master~ just like that.” You teased, feeling yourself come undone, he clawed your legs harder, his sharp nails sinking into your skin, you moaned more as you rode your high on his tongue, making him lick and taste all your juices.

You panted as you kept using his horns to help you fuck yourself onto his face, “more, more Luci, taste me more!~” you begged as he obeyed, closing his eyes as his chest grumbled out a growl, he loved how sweet you were, body and voice. He couldn’t get enough of your flavor as you begged, he was so thankful he didn’t have nose as you rode his face, letting him taste more of you, he was so dazed by your juices, he kept eating you out like it was his last meal.

He removed one of his hands from your squishy thighs, he didn’t know he punctured your jelly skin as you oozed out more juices from where his sharp nails were, his hand then went to claw you inner thigh, pushing your leg up as he tried to get more access of your addicting flavors. “fuckfuck…” you whined, trying to lift your other leg up but it was held down by his strong grip, “Lucifer~ gonna come again~” you whimpered, as he growled, going more rougher with his tongue, making you lean your head back at you bucked your hips again, coming onto his face again, “ohhh~” you moaned as your body shook from the waves of ecstasy.

“Lucifer, Luci, fuck me please, please, need you ‘nside me.” you whimpered desperately, letting go of his horns as he licked up your juices before pulling away, “fuck you taste so amazing, love.” he says as he got up, his tail wagging again. You desperately latch onto him, sloppily trying to unbutton his shirt, “Luci, need you so bad..” you begged as he smirks, pushing you gently to the bed again, “wait honey bun,” He says, kissing your nose, “let me get you undressed first, okay?” he asks, seeming as he had an idea in mind.

He leaned in to kiss you desperately as you unbuttoned his vest, you then felt his hands trail behind your back, his claws sharpening as he pushed you up to lean on his chest, you began to hear tears and ripping, realizing he was removing your maid dress by shredding it apart, he dug his claws into the dress, ripping it opposite directions before you were completely free from it, you shuddered from the cold that suddenly touched your body as you tried to close your legs again, your core desperate to be filled again.

Lucifer laughed lightly before kissing your nose again before looking at your fully nude body, your jelly colors of purple blue and pink, “You’re so cute, ma chèrie.” He says lustfully under his breath, leaning close to your lips, kissing you gently before you cupped his face, kissing him harder and deeply, passionately and desperately. You grind your hips against his groin making him moan through the kiss, “Y/n, Y/n, calm down my dear.” he says, pulling away. “Need. please Luci…” you begged, making him give in, “I just want to know if you’re sure,” he says as he strokes your cheek, “is this your first time?” he asks, wanting to know what pace he should or could start at, “yes..” you admit, knowing all your life, you focused on your family than ever finding love before you died, especially in Hell now.

“If I hurt you or want me to stop, our safe word is ‘apple’, okay?” he smiles caring and lovingly as you look into his mesmerizing eyes, “okay..” you say with a nod, allowing him to continue and undo his trousers, you looked curiously at his as you felt your body secrete more slime, your core also spilling its own hormonal juices when you saw his length, now understanding where all his height went.

His tail wagged again as he gently wrapped his hands around your waist, teasing your clit as he rubbed his member against it, using your secretions as lube, you whimpered again from the stimulation, “please just put it in Luci, please!” you whined loudly, tired of waiting, “sorry, dearest.” he smiles apologetically, angling himself before pushing himself into you slowly, your body felt waves of pleasure, your sensitivity heightening, “faster, faster, fuck me, fuck me master, please.” You begged, calling him by one of his titles, making him thrust harshly into you, your body was so slimy and gooey, you didn’t need any adjustment, you only just felt waves of pleasure, “oh, yes!~” you shouted, mouth a gap.

You immediately bucked your hips, wrapping your arms around his neck as he claws into your waist, making you shiver more, he thrusted harshly into you, in and out as your slimy juices helped his thrusts, you mewled and moaned loudly, gasping as he kept using your waist to bring you back into him after thrusting out, creating a rhythm of pleasure for both side. You were so noisy you tried to use a pillow to hide your moans but he grabbed it and threw it across the room, “moan my name, darling, scream who you belong to.” He orders, thrusting hard than before as you gripped the sheets, shuddering as you felt yourself getting close again, “Oh! Lucifer! I’m so close!” you screamed as you obeyed his orders, he smirked as leaned down to your neck, “that’s it, almost there.” he says as he kissed your neck, biting down into your neck as you buck your hips into him again, coming all over him as he continued to thrust into you, “good girl.” he praised, your eyes rolling back as you felt your release cover his member as he kept pounding into you.

He sucked on your neck, drinking in your juices after piercing your jelly skin with his fangs, licking and kissing caringly. He kissed you passionately again as you gripped his hair harshly, feeling overstimulated but just craving more at the same time, he growled when you tugged his hair, making him pull away, “i’m close, dearest.” he says, making you wrap your legs around him, locking him in, “inside! inside! want all of you in me! mmmph!~” you screamed and moaned, making Lucifer kiss you again before biting to your neck harshly, thrusting his hips one last time into you deeply, your waist forced down to him, his claws baring into your skin.

You felt himself pour deeply into you, ropes of cum filling you whole, your eyes rolled back with your mouth wide open, your body trembling before he thrusted into you quickly again, shoving more of his fluids into you.

He pulled away from your neck, licking and kissing it lovingly, your skin oozing out more slime, “Fuck, I love you so much.” He pants heavily, keeping himself still as he kissed your body lovingly, he looked at your fucked out state, he smiled rather proudly as he continued to kiss your body, slowly pulling out of you.

You came back from your high, tears forming as you whimpered, your body feeling sore but your core still craving more, “Luci~” you say as you turn your body, your ass in the air for him now, his cum was dripping out of you as he watched you wiggle your ass, “fuck, Y/n..” He says as he felt himself get hard again, “you’re gonna be the death of me.” He tells you, pushing you further into the bed, climbing up onto it as well. He scooped up some of his cum that was spilling out before thrusting back into you, thrusting harshly again as you moaned loudly, he pinned your wrists down as he kissed your back, your sensitive body was shaking terribly but it was the most heavenly feeling of your entire existence.

“Yes, breed me Luci,” You begged as tears stained your face, making him thrust down into you, “knock me up… carry your children..~” you slurred, mind fucked from overstimulation and pleasure, you lost count of how many times you came but Lucifer was still going at it, your stomach bulged slightly from each deep thrust he did, you laid there limply as he bottomed out into you for the second time.

He pulled out as he flopped and fell to your side, his hair disheveled and your slime was practically all over the bed, He turned to you, “are you okay, honey bun?” He asks, seeing you still lost in your high, he kissed you softly before getting the pillow from the floor he threw earlier and putting it back on his bed, using it to lay back on, he closed his eyes as he sighed, only to open then widely when you jumped on top of him, “Luci, we aren’t done yet.~” you giggle, completely lost in pleasure, craving more, “Oh? still want more?” He smirked at you, trying to reach for your hips again only for them to be pinned above his head by you, “I get to have you my way now.” you smile darkly and lustfully, rubbing against him before sliding him into you, you leaned forward, your animal instincts of desperation made you hips smash down onto his member at an inhuman speed, “oh- fuck- wait! hah- slow down darling please-“ He begged before you kissed him, ignoring his plea.

He tried to struggle out of your grasp as you thrusted harshly into him, only making you push onto his chest, “this is for all the teasing, Luci, take it like you deserve it.” You glared at him as an order, “Please, you’re going to fast, if you keep this up, i’m gonna go insane.” he warned, you rolled your eyes as you ignored him again, “you can take it, Lulu.” you comfort as you kiss his cheek before kissing him passionately, tasting each other once again.

“mmmhhh, fuck, Y/n..” Lucifer moaned under his breath as you forced yourself onto him, seeming as he hasn’t said the safe word: he was enjoying this. You focused your strength on thrusting yourself into him, feeling him slide into your gooey insides quickly, “Fuck, take it, take all my cum, darling!” he says as he bucks his hips into you once more, deeply as he releases into you once again as you moaned softly, your exhaustion now kicking in.

You laid limp on Lucifer as you wiped your tears from sheer pleasure, tired and satisfied, “I’m sorry, Y/n,” Lucifer says as you felt something wrap around your waist, “just one more, okay, one more please, wanna make sure you’re knocked up, okay baby?” He says as his tail moved you up and down on his still hardened member, you whined in exhaustion but still let him to use your body for his pleasure, how could you say no to a desperate face like that?

He kissed you again, making out with you softly as he used his tail to thrust your tired body against his, pleased by how you whimpered in overstimulation, his cum was leaking out of you like crazy but it was all the more for him to give you last of his load before calling it for the day, his tail was slicked with your slime, sometimes when it picked you up, you’d slip from its grasp and fall straight down into him, making you moan and tremble, he only kept repeating this process, enjoying every whimper he could writhe out of you.

He kissed your tears away as he continued to make you ride him, he smiled at you lovingly as you shivered at every touch, noticing your tummy was slightly round from how much he had filled you, “gonna come again, okay?” He says as she whines, “fffu- ffuhhh..” you tried to speak, blissed out completely. He thrusted harshly a few times before his tail kept you in place, taking in his last load, making you feel tremble in pleasure. He kissed your chest, neck and face lovingly, his tail helping you move off him and next to him on his bed, he took the covers and placed them on you, rubbing your back, softly, watching you drift to sleep, his demon form going away.

He was going to give you all the aftercare you needed when you wake up, for now he wanted you to rest, seeing as that looked more important to you currently.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Bonus:

“Hey, Y/n, did you know you taste like jolly ranchers?” Lucifer asked.

“I do?” You say, licking your arm for a taste test, “Oh shit, I do.”

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

the voices the fucking voices.

#lucifer morningstar #character x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #character x oc #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader smut #lucifer magne #the voices the fucking voices.#character x y/n #character x you #THERES MORE SMUT THAN PLOT HELL-

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khurooai · 11 months

Text

insatiable desires pt. 1

leon s. kennedy x f. reader

warning: EXTREMELY DARK SMUT. NONCON, DUBCON, CNC. possessive behavior. praise & degradation. master-pet/slave relationship, size kink, corruption kink, jealousy, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, tummy bulge, dacryphilia, slight bdsm, hair pulling, slapping, spanking, brat taming, dumbification, manipulation, overstimulation, marking, love bites, branding scare.

this part is purely smut and i guess a bit of introduction to their relationship (?), the plot and story begin in part 2.

(not proofread & lowercase intended)

note: the following content contains explicit and adult-oriented language and themes. this piece is fictional and solely intended for the reader's satisfaction and imagination. the author does NOT condone or endorse any real-life activities that may be depicted. reader discretion is advised. mdni.

please bear with me for a bit, as i haven't written for a while. however, i intend to improve my writing with every part of this series.

you've tried everything. exploring every possibility in your relentless pursuit of pleasure, yet it remains unfulfilled. you want—no, you need the real thing — a real cock. not a cold silicone dildo or a vibrator but a genuine connection with a man who can satiate your deepest desires. someone who not only comprehends the hidden desires that you are yet to find in the corners of your mind, but also your current fantasies. a man of experience, confidence, and the ability to surpass your expectations, while respecting your boundaries and limitations.

driven by this longing, you made a bold decision one fateful day. you set your sights on a formidable individual, a man whose reputation precedes him. with unwavering determination, you sought to approach leon kennedy, a figure who held the key to unlocking your satisfaction, as they say.

and so, he invited you to his penthouse, seated comfortably behind his wide desk, he reclined his swivel chair. his piercing blue eyes alternated between the document resting before him and the person who stood before him—you.

leon smirks, leaning back further in his chair, his fingers steepled together. his piercing blue eyes lock onto yours, his voice smooth and confident. "let's go over the agreed-upon rules one last time." he reaches forward, picking up the paper and clearing his throat before reading out loud.

rule number one: you will address me as "master " at all times, without exception. disobedience will result in punishment.

rule number two: your body is mine to do as i please. you will obey any and all orders given to you immediately and without question. failure to do so will result in punishment.

rule number three: you are to be completely submissive and obedient at all times. any displays of resistance or defiance will be met with consequences.

rule number four: trust and honesty are crucial. you will communicate your desires, limits, and boundaries clearly and openly.

rule number five: "red" will be our safe word, a word that will signify the need for an immediate halt to any activities. and for situations when you cannot speak, a double tap from you shall serve as your signal for me to cease.

rule number six: consent is given and assumed between us. we have entered into this agreement willingly and with a clear understanding of the dynamics at play.

rule number seven: any physical marks or bruises left on your body will be solely at my discretion. i may use them as a reminder of your submission and my ownership.

rule number seven: you will wear the collar i have provided you with at all times when we are together. it symbolizes your submissive status.

rule number eight: aftercare is of utmost importance. i will provide care and comfort after each session, tending to your physical and emotional needs.

rule number nine: limits and hard boundaries will be respected. any acts or requests beyond those limits will not be entertained.

rule number ten: discretion is crucial. our arrangement and any activities that occur between us will remain strictly between us.

rule number eleven: i shall provide for you as long as our contract is in effect.

rule number twelve: communication is key. if at any time you have concerns, questions, or suggestions, you are to bring them to my attention.

rule number thirteen: exclusivity is expected. you will be mine and mine alone. you will not engage in any form of sexual activity with others without my explicit permission.

rule number fourteen: this agreement is subject to periodic review and amendments as we see fit, but any changes must be agreed upon by both parties.

rule number fifteen: above all, remember that your role is to serve and please me. your submission and obedience will be rewarded, but disobedience will not go unpunished."

leon finishes reading the rules and proceeds to enlighten you now with the punishments in order for disobedience and failure to follow the contract. the severity of the punishments depends on the nature of the transgression.

"for minor offenses, i may choose to administer a spanking, using my hand or other implements of your choosing. a whip, a belt, or even a paddle. the sting and the marks they leave will surely remind you of your place.

for more grave offenses, i might decide to deny you pleasure, subjecting you to a period of denial and frustration. teasing you, torturing you with pleasure until the brink, only to leave you unsatisfied.

for severe transgressions, humiliation. i will expose your deepest, darkest secrets, making you feel vulnerable and exposed. in front of me, or perhaps even in front of others, if i deem it necessary. the shame you feel will be a harsh reminder of your place.

another form of punishment i enjoy is forced orgasm. i will push you to your limits, overstimulating your body with pleasure until you are begging for mercy. but i will continue, without pause, until you are broken, trembling, and completely at my mercy."

and, of course, there is always the option of physical pain. whether it be through flogging, caning, or even more extreme methods, like branding.

the act of marking you permanently, etching my ownership into your very flesh. it would serve as a stark reminder of your place and your commitment to our contract. for the location, i have chosen the upper back, just below the neck. it is a prominent yet easily concealable area, allowing you to exhibit your mark when desired or to hide it under clothing when necessary."

"as for the design, a simple symbol of my choosing will suffice. an intricate "L" intertwined with a fierce dragon, symbolizing power, dominance, and the unbreakable bond between master and slave." leon's voice lowers, his gaze intensifying as he locks eyes with you.

"and now, the method. we shall proceed with scarification, using a heated branding iron. the sensation of searing pain, the sizzle of flesh meeting metal, will etch the memory of my ownership permanently into your being."

setting the paper back down on the desk and swiftly sliding it across the table towards you. he studies your face carefully, waiting for your response.

after thoroughly reviewing the contract and deeming it satisfactory, a surge of confidence coursed through your veins. without hesitation, you grabbed the pen from his desk, eager to finalize the deal with a flourish of your signature.

"done."

without wasting another precious moment, leon reached for his desk, deftly pulling open a drawer to reveal a thick and vibrant pink collar. with a determined gaze, he rose to his feet.

his fingers idly toying with the collar's texture as he approached you. then he pressed his lips tenderly against your forehead, a gesture filled with affection and a hint of dominance. it sent shivers down your spine, amplifying the anticipation that already hung in the air.

circling behind you, his hand delicately brushed your hair over your shoulder. with a confident yet gentle touch, he wrapped the collar around your neck, securing it in place. the buckle clicked, its snugness striking the perfect balance between leaving a mark and allowing you to breathe freely.

"who owns you, pretty thing? tell me,"

"you do, master. all for you."

"mmm, such sweet devotion," leon purred, his voice dripping with satisfaction as his hands trailed down your body, his touch both possessive and tender. he gripped your waist firmly, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to elicit a gasp from your lips.

leaning in, his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, his voice a low, velvety whisper. "you belong to me now. your body, your pleasure, all for me." his words sent a jolt of desire coursing through your veins, your body growing more submissive under his commanding presence.

leon slowly guided you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body. he sat down on the edge, his gaze fixed on you with hunger in his eyes. "strip for me, pet. show me what's mine," he commanded, his voice laced with an intoxicating blend of authority and desire.

your hands shook slightly as you began to undress, the vulnerability and anticipation electrifying every movement. leon's eyes drank in the sight of you, his gaze washing over your exposed skin, appreciating every curve and contour. his lips curled into a wicked smile, his own arousal evident.

as you stood before him, bare and vulnerable, leon's hand snapped out, the sound of a sharp slap resounding through the room. a mixture of pain and pleasure ignited within you, your body responding to the delightful sting. "you've been such a good pet, haven't you?" he taunted, his voice laced with mock sympathy. "but we're just getting started."

without warning, his hand tangled in your hair, roughly pulling you towards him. his lips claimed yours in a fierce and possessive kiss, his tongue dominating yours as he explored the depths of your mouth. the taste of him consumed you, his taste lingering on your tongue as you gasped for breath.

breaking the kiss, he pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. "you're mine, and i'm going to make sure you never forget who you belong to," he growled, before pushing you back onto the bed, positioning himself above you.

leon's lips crashed into yours once again, the hunger and desire intensifying with each passing second. his hands roamed your body, exploring every inch with a possessive grip. as your tongues danced together, the room filled with the sound of your muffled moans, consumed by your shared lust.

his fingers trailed down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. with a firm yet gentle grip, he squeezed your ass, the sting of the slap still lingering on your skin. "you like it rough, don't you? tell me," he demanded, his voice filled with a mix of dominance and eagerness.

a shuddering breath escaped your lips as you mustered the words, your voice a mere whisper. "y-yes, master. want it as rough as you want," you admitted, your submission fueling the fire within him.

in response, he threw you onto the bed. leon gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head, holding them firmly in place. his kisses descended from your lips, trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of love bites and marks in his wake. the combination of pleasure and pain sent waves of electricity through your body, leaving you trembling with anticipation.

his hand slipped between your thighs, teasing your slick folds with his fingers. with a wicked smirk, he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "do you want me to claim you, pet? to make you mine in every way?" he murmured, his voice laced with a sadistic edge.

desire surged through your veins as you nodded eagerly, your voice barely above a whisper. "y-yes, make me yours completely," you pleaded, your words punctuated by a moan as his fingers slipped inside you, expertly exploring your depths.

leon's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he felt your wetness coating his fingers. he moved them in a slow and calculated manner, curling them to find that sweet spot that would elicit delicious moans from your lips. each movement of his hand was designed to bring you pleasure, to make you crave more.

keeping his eyes locked on yours, he pulled his fingers out, only to thrust them back in, setting a rhythm that matched the growing heat between you. each stroke was deliberate, leaving you on the precipice of pleasure, but never quite pushing you over.

his voice was a commanding whisper as he spoke, hot breath cascading over your ear. "so obedient and responsive," he growled, his voice dripping with authority. his fingers quickened their pace, plunging deep into your core, causing you to arch your back in pleasure.

leon's smoldering eyes bore into yours, relishing in the sight of your submission. he pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right to hit your most sensitive spot. your moans filled the room, echoing the pleasure that surged through your body like an electric current.

with a flick of his wrist, he removed his fingers from your dripping entrance, making you whimper in need. he brought them up to your lips, the scent of your arousal filling your nostrils as he traced your lips with his fingertips. "open," he commanded, his tone demanding your unquestioning obedience.

as your mouth opened, he slid his fingers inside, fully coating them with your taste. "suck them clean, pet," he ordered, his voice laced with the promise of retribution if you disobeyed. without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his fingers, your tongue swirling around them, cleaning off every drop of your essence.

satisfied with your obedience, leon withdrew his fingers from your mouth, a glimmer of sadistic pleasure dancing in his eyes. "perfectly made just for me," he declared, his voice filled with lust and dominance.

a cruel smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he unbuckled his belt, the sound of leather sliding through metal sending a shiver down your spine. holding the belt firmly in his hand, he let the leather coil against his palm before he loomed above you.

his strong hands gripped your hips, flipping you onto your stomach. "you're going to feel every strike of this belt," he warned, his voice filled with a mix of authority and sadistic pleasure. yet, he paused. "color."

"g-green."

without further delay, leon brought down the belt, the leather hitting the exposed skin of your backside with a resounding crack. the sting and burn left you breathless, each strike toeing the line between pleasure and pain. your moans filled the room as he continued his relentless assault, marking your skin with red welts that matched his voracious desire.

he leaned in closer, his voice husky and dominant. "such a good girl," he praised, his lips brushing against your ear. "you're already so wet for me, so eager and ready to get fucked rough."

he released his pulsing cock from his pants, his touch sending a jolt of anticipation coursing through him. his hand moved with a purpose, stroking his length firmly, the sight and sound of his hand gliding along his throbbing shaft filling the room.

leon's cock throbbed in his hand, the veins pulsating with anticipation. each stroke elicited a soft grunt of pleasure from his lips, his grip tightening around his shaft. it was a sight to behold, his arousal on full display.

with a teasing smirk, he pressed just the tip inside, relishing in the way you gasped and writhed beneath him. "you want it, don't you, pet? beg for it," he commanded, his voice a low growl of dominance.

an intense desire coursed through you, driving you to please him even further. "please, n-need you inside me, master," you pleaded, your voice dripping with desperation.

leon's dominance ignited within him. before you could prepare yourself, he shifted his body, his throbbing length pressing against your slick fold and without warning, he thrust himself inside you with a forceful intensity. pleasure mixed with pain as your body adjusted to his size, and a guttural growl escaped his throat. he set a rhythm, his movements powerful and relentless, his grip on your hips leaving bruises in his wake.

you gasped loudly, your hands gripping the bedsheets, nails digging into the fabric. "o-oh fuck, leon," you moaned breathlessly, your voice filled with a mix of pleasure and surprise.

suddenly, leon's hand came down hard on your ass, the sound of the impact echoing in the room. the sting of the slap sent a jolt of pain and pleasure coursing through your body, a reminder of your place and the rules you should follow.

"address me properly, pet," he growled, his voice filled with a potent mix of warning and desire.

tears glistened in your eyes as the pain radiated through your ass, your skin tingling from the impact. "i-i'm sorry, master," you whimpered, your voice laced with both regret and desire. "please, forgive me."

leon's hand ghosted gently over the now reddened flesh, his touch contrasting the previous harshness. "you know better," he chided softly, his tone a twisted blend of affection and dominance.

with a shift of his hips, he resumed his forceful thrusts, his cock pounding into you with a relentless pace. each stroke brought a mix of sensations driving you further into submission. as your body trembled against him, you vowed to never forget his title again.

leon smirked, relishing in the sight of your desperate and needy state. "hm... you liked that, didn't you?" he taunted, his voice filled with a mix of sadistic pleasure and satisfaction. "of course you do, fucking slut."

with each forceful thrust, he drove himself deeper inside you, hitting all the right spots. his hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he claimed you completely. his body moved with calculated precision, his hips meeting yours with an insatiable hunger for dominance.

the sound of skin slapping against skin resonated through the room, the bed creaking beneath you. your moans filled the air, mixing with his growls of satisfaction. his relentless pace pushed you to the edge, your body trembling with pleasure as you clung to the brink of release.

but leon wasn't done with you yet. with a sudden change in position, he flipped you onto your back. "now you're going to take it just how i want," he hissed, his voice laced with a sadistic edge.

his free hand moved to your throat, hand gripping the collar firmly but not enough to cut off your oxygen. "look at me," he commanded, his eyes locked with yours. "i want to see you. look at me in the eyes as i claim you as mine. fill you up with my seed, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"y-yes!" you exclaim in ecstasy, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, on the brink of spilling over.

as your eyes met, he could see the hunger, the desperation reflected in your gaze. his hand traveled up to your face, his thumb brushing gently against the corner of your eye, capturing a tear. he brought his thumb to his lips, his gaze never leaving yours as he licked it clean, savoring the taste of your submission.

"there it is... such a beautiful sight," he murmured darkly, his voice filled with a mix of lust and superiority. your tears only spurred him on, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more frenzied.

leon's thumb found your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive nub, sending pleasure coursing through your veins. the combination of his skilled fingers and the overwhelming pleasure he's forcing onto your body had you on the brink of release, your breaths coming in sharp gasps.

his hand released your throat and trailed down, his fingers tracing a path along your collarbone until they reached your pert breasts. with a firm grip, he kneaded them, squeezing and massaging the soft flesh, relishing in the way they filled his hands.

with a smirk, he leaned down and took one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, sucking on it with an irresistible intensity. his tongue swirled around your sensitive bud, creating delicious friction that made you arch your back in pleasure. he alternated between gentle and rough bites, leaving love bites in his wake. the mix of pain and pleasure sent shivers down your spine, igniting a primal need within you.

"m-more, master," unable to hold back any longer, you moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair, encouraging him to take more of you. the sensations were overwhelming, a perfect blend that brought you closer to the edge.

he couldn't resist the urge to give you a sharp bite, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of your breast which sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core, earning a yelp from your trembling lips. his hot breath ghosted over the bite mark as he murmured, "beautiful."

his mouth left a trail of wet kisses and love bites along your chest, marking you as his possession. he could sense your desire building once again, your body begging for release under his touch.

with a sinful smirk, he released your breasts from his mouth. his fingers circling your nipples, tugging on them lightly before sliding down your body to grip your thigh. hoisting your leg over his shoulder to grant him deeper access and allow him to pound into you harder.

with half-lidded eyes, you gaze at leon, intrigued by his furrowed brows and the intensity of his gaze fixed on your lower region rather than your face. leon's thumb grazed against the bulge in your lower abdomen, his touch sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. his teasing caress only heightened your desire, leaving you yearning for more of his delicious domination.

he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered huskily, "seeing my cock bulge reminds me that you exist to serve me. you are mine, my plaything. every thrust, every swell of my cock inside you... it's a constant reminder of how deeply you've submitted to me."

with a swift motion, he thrust his hips forward, driving his bulging cock deeper into you, aching against every inch of your inner walls. the sensation was both pleasurable and torturous, a sweet torment that left you craving more of his merciless control.

"do you like feeling that bulge, my pet?" he asked, his voice laced with satisfaction. "does it make you feel owned, completely at my mercy? my cock stretching you, filling you, pushing you to your limits."

leon smirked at your trembling form, relishing the power he held over you. he firmly guided your hand to press against the bulge on your stomach, ensuring you felt every pulsation and throb of his cock as it filled you completely.

"such a good girl," he praised, his voice laced with wicked satisfaction. "feel that? feel how deeply i'm inside you? the proof of our connection lies right here."

he tightened his grip on your hand, making sure you couldn't pull away, as he thrust his hips forward, causing his cock to press even harder against your hand. every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through both of you, reinforcing the intoxicating control he had over your body.

"you'll take everything i give you, won't you? every drop of my seed belongs inside you, isn't that right?" he commanded, his voice filled with sadistic delight. "but not just yet, pet. you don't get to cum until i give you permission."

with that, leon withdrew his slightly, a sadistic smile crept across leon's lips as he held himself still, teasing you with just the tip of his hardened length. he savored the sight of your desperation, relishing in your need for him to fill you completely once more.

your whine of frustration and need only fueled his sadistic delight. with a cruel twist of his hips, he pushed himself deep into you once again, his length plunging into your eager depths. the sudden fullness made you gasp, a mixture of pleasure and relief flooding your senses.

but just as quickly as he had given you what you craved, he pulled back, leaving only the head of his cock inside you. a whimper escaped your lips, the anticipation and desire consuming your thoughts.

he studied you, his gaze hungry and possessive, as he reached down to brush his thumb against your swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm and gasp.

he shifted his rhythm, alternating between deep, agonizing thrusts and shallow, teasing motions. the anticipation and frustration built within you, driving you to the brink of insanity. your body writhed beneath him, involuntarily seeking the release it so desperately needed.

leon began to thrust slowly, torturing you with every languid movement, pushing you to the edge of orgasm only to deny it. he wanted to see you quivering with need, desperate and helpless under his dominant control.

leon was merciless. he reveled in your torment, denying you the climax you longed for, pushing you to the edge and then pulling back. his eyes danced with sadistic delight as he watched the desperation and need etched on your face.

"master, please," you pleaded, your voice filled with desperation. "i'll do anything. please let me cum."

"no, pet," he sneered mockingly, his tone dripping with authority. "you do not get to cum until i allow it. and i must say, i'm quite enjoying watching you squirm and beg for it."

he continued his calculated torture, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with each torturous stroke. your body trembled, juices dripping down your thighs as you teetered on the precipice of release.

submissively, you spread your legs wider, silently offering more of yourself to him. you desperately hoped that your actions would be enough to convince him. finally, when he deemed you had suffered enough, leon's rhythm shifted once more. his movements became rough and forceful, pushing you over the edge.

each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body, your walls tightening around his thick cock. you could feel him deep inside you, his size filling you to the brim.

as your body quivered beneath him, on the precipice of release, he continued his ruthless assault. your moans grew louder, more desperate, as you tumbled over the edge into a mind-shattering orgasm. the waves of pleasure crashed over you, leaving you gasping and trembling beneath his dominating presence.

"l-leon!" you cried out his name, your pleasure mingling with his dominance, creating a symphony of ecstasy.

as your body shuddered and twitched beneath him, leon continued his relentless rhythm, prolonging the blissful torture. with a groan, leon reached his peak. he buried himself deep within you, emptying his hot essence deep into your waiting womb. you felt the pulsations of his release, his thick, potent seed filling you completely.

his eyes boring into yours as he slowly pulled out, relishing the way your body clenched around him leaving you feeling empty and yearning for more. the mixture of his cum and your juices dripped down your ass, a reminder of the intensity of your encounter.

leon's lips curled into a dark, satisfied smile as he scooped up the small amount of leaked cum and pushed it back inside you. his finger slid in smoothly, the wetness mixing with your own arousal. "don't waste a single drop of your master's cum, pet," he whispered throatily, his voice filled with a possessive hunger. feeling the tightness of your walls around his digits, he slowly withdrew his fingers.

leaning in close, he gently wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of his hand, his touch both comforting and possessive. "mmm, such a good pet," he purred, his voice laced with mocking affection. "i can see it in your eyes, how eager you are to please me. those tears only make it more enticing. you crave my approval, don't you?"

he caressed your cheek with a gentle touch. "and you'll do anything for my praise, won't you, my little slave? you'll endure pain, pleasure, and humiliation just to hear those words of approval spill from my lips."

a smug grin on his face as he watched your teary, half-lidded eyes and obedient nod. he studied you, his gaze hungry and possessive, as he reached down to brush his thumb against your swollen clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm and gasp.

"mine."

#leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #x reader #dark smut #smut #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader dark smut #master leon kennedy #master leon s kennedy

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studioghibelli · 4 months

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three’s a party- a joel x tess x reader story

summary: joel knows you, his pretty little girlfriend, has always harbored sexual feelings for tess. he can’t help but oblige you on your birthday.

warnings: joel watches you and tess fuck, he basically gets cucked by tess, porn with no plot, bisexual reader, smut (f on f action, f & m receiving oral, tribbing, unprotected sex, very brief sir kink, light mentions of choking, spiting, daddy kink, dirty talk, use of the word whore and slut, dom!tess, sub!reader, kind of sub!joel (?), threesome)

notes: this is pure filth. i love it. mdni, or else!!! (not spell checked or edited….. sorry besties)

The room was damp, and smelled mildly of mildew.

Outside, the rush of dusk had plastered the night sky in shades of navy and onyx, no light inside the little square room except the dangling bulb which swung from the ceiling, a flickering twinge of gold illuminating the four corners with every sway of the string.

The mattress was old and stale, the coils squeaking with every movement, and to the side, a tattered arm chair the color of the earth rested without movement. Sitting on the dirty cover was Joel Miller, the man who had been responsible for orchestrating this night. And now there he was, watching his girl moan and writhe with pleasure, her legs pushed back by the hands of his work partner, Tess.

You didn’t have to ask Joel or say anything outright for him to notice that desire which lingered in your eyes each time you saw Tess. The way you would suck your bottom lip between in your teeth when her chest brushed against yours, the way you would let out a quiet sigh every time her fingers pushed a strand of hair from your face.

Joel Miller wasn’t an idiot.

It was the end of the world, and he didn’t mind sharing you. Well, not with Tess, anyways. He trusted her and loved her like family, but if anyone else tried to get funny with you, he’d have their head served up on a silver platter just for you, à la John the Baptist style.

When your birthday rolled around the corner, he knew just what he had to do for his pretty babydoll: indulge you- In the one way he knew you’d like best.

It took some convincing with Tess.

“I don’t want you trying to kill me for touching your girl.” She had joked, arms crossed as she stared at him plainly. “Are you sure she wants this?”

“‘Course she does. You ain’t dumb. She ‘bout loses her mind every time you get close to her.” They shared a laugh, and Tess soon agreed.

But with you, well, it took no convincing at all. You about jumped out of your skin with excitement when he brought the idea up, happily complying to the plan he had in mind. You trusted him deeply, more than anyone else on the earth, and knew he would always take good care of you.

And now you were here, in this situation. On the two decades’ old mattress with Tess’ tongue swirling circles around your clit, lapping at your soaked cunt as though you were the last thing she would ever taste. From the corner of your eye you saw Joel, sitting and watching you with his lips pressed into a thin line, arms crossed and face void of any emotion. If he didn’t have a massive boner tenting the fabric of his jeans, you would have wondered if he was growing angry.

No. No anger there. Not an ounce of it.

Your hands clenched the fabric of the cotton sheets tightly within your fists, nails tearing at the seams as the woman you had craved for so long lapped up every drop of your wetness. You were in Heaven, her skilled tongue exploring every inch of you that cried out. She hadn’t missed a spot on your clit, flicking it and slurping incessantly, until you were putty in her hands, for her to play with freely.

Tess pulled away, middle finger sinking deep into your tight hole. She looked up, an arrogant smirk crossing her lips, and relished in the quiet mewl you let out for her.

“You’re loving this, aren’t you pretty girl?”

You whimpered in response, hips bucking up as she flicked her finger just right, tapping up against your g-spot. Your thighs quivered.

“Tess!” You cried out. “Please.”

“No, no, no.” She climbed on top of you, naked cunt straddling your thigh, ring and middle finger now sunk deep into your entrance. Tess leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, tongue licking a stripe against that sensitive patch of skin that always made you shiver. “You call me daddy.”

With wide eyes your neck snapped towards Joel, who was still watching you wordlessly, eyes dark, hands resting on the arms of the chair. He didn’t speak, didn’t flinch, didn’t make any sort of move. He only watched, like a statue stuck in place, eyes on you, and you only.

Tess began to grind herself against your thigh, a soft groan leaving her, before she grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up. “Not him. Me. Eyes on me.” The blunt edge of her nails sunk into your skin, and you felt her knee gently brush against your clit.

“Need you.” You begged breathlessly. “Need you.”

“Need me how? Tell daddy. What do you need from me, baby?” She cooed softly to you, her words dripping with a faux sense of worry. Behind her closed lips, you heard a faint snicker. Tess was getting off on this. She was getting off on seeing you beg, on seeing you come- quite literally- undone.

“Rub your pussy on mine, please….” A few beats passed before you spoke again. “Daddy.”

Tess grinned down at you, pushing your legs back before lowering herself, her pretty pink cunt pressed flush against yours.

Joel grunted. It was the first time he had made any noise. You glanced over at him, gently extending your hand. “Joel?” You called out softly, beckoning him forward. He wasted no time making his way to you, crouching down by the bed as he grasped your hand, plush lips pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m here, darlin’. Right here.”

“Stay right here. Stay.” You whispered.

You looked down at Tess’ pussy on yours. She kept her pubic hair short, yet it was still there, and it looked damn good on her. Her clit was bigger than yours, sticking out from her folds in a way that made your mouth water. Pink and pretty, dripping just from pleasing you. Your hips bucked up at the feeling, completely involuntarily.

Tess looked down at your connected cunts, and slowly dragged her clit up and down between your folds, her hands pressed flat against your thighs as she watched, lip stuck between her teeth.

“God, you’re fucking soaked. She get this wet for you, Texas?” Arrogance dripped from her words.

“Wetter.” He grunted, arrogance matching hers, with his eyes burning right into your face. You turned your head to look at Joel, and he gently pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“So good. So fucking good.” You whined. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, rough hand cupping your cheek.

“Such a good girl, you know that? Takin’ it like a fuckin’ champ. Yeah, that’s my good girl. Such a good slut for your daddies, ain’t ya?” His voice was low and deep in your ear, for you only.

You looked at Tess, feeling her own clit circling yours. You gasped out softly, her throbbing button slowly poking through your folds, barely penetrating you, but doing so just enough that you felt that familiar tingle of arousal shoot up your body. Tess lowered her hand, flicking your nipple, before her calloused fingers dragged down the softness of your belly, finding your clit and pinching it lightly.

“You really are a good girl, aren’t you?” She purred, thumb rolling circles into your bud. “You’re wet as a fucking waterfall. Such a cute pussy, too. You know that? So fucking tight and pink, I might just steal you from Joel, make you mine.”

A low growl of annoyance came from beside you. “Watch it Tess.” He warned.

She giggled a girlish giggle, her pussy dragging up and down against yours. “Just kidding. No need to get your cock in a knot, Miller.”

You whined as she grinded against you, her wetness seeping in to your own. “I think I’m gonna cum on this little pussy of yours.”

Joel tightened his grip on your hand, leaning forward and kissing your temple, right where your sweat was gathering. You were whining and squirming, your orgasm right there, yet still so far away. You looked at your boyfriend, and he kissed you deeply, hand slowly moving to your throat where he held you in place, his tongue slipping between your lips. You moaned at the taste of his spit, hips bucking in to Tess’, her throbbing clit pressing against your own.

“God fucking damn.” You heard her groan, feeling her arousal dripping down your own thighs. You reached towards her, free hand finding her chest, pinching and twisting her nipple. You guided her chest closer to yours, pulling away from Joel’s mouth to meet hers. Tess kissed you hungrily, with a passion you were sure only a woman could ever carry.

Her nipples pressed into yours, brushing against one another as she fucked you with her cunt, up and down, the wanton noises of your wet slick filling the air. Your pussy was desperate to clench around something, clit tingling at the feeling of her friction. She shoved her tongue down your throat, sweaty body melding to yours, as she grunted and groaned into your throat.

You felt Tess shake with her own orgasm, grunting out your name as she pulled away from your mouth and grabbed the headboard, slowly rolling her hips into your own, staring at your connected pussies, watching the strings of cum tie her folds to your own. Milly white and dripping, she watched her folds fall open as she dragged them down your throbbing clit, moaning out at the sight.

She looked at Joel. “You want to make her cum, or me?”

“Why not both?” The smirk was evident in his voice. You moaned out in annoyance when she got off of you, annoyed at the lack of contact on your clit.

“Don’t worry, angel.” Joel murmured, nibbling at your ear lobe. “She’s gonna make you cum real nice. Then your real daddy is gonna fuck you nice and dumb.”

“Oh.” You moaned out softly at his words, tangling your hand in his curls. “Yes sir.” You murmured softly, and Joel let out a throaty chuckle, his lips attaching to your neck.

As your eyes fluttered close at the feeling of Joel sucking on your skin, your felt your legs being pushed up, and you were soon met with the feeling of Tess’ lips wrapping around your sensitive bud. She dipped her fingers into your soaked pussy, tasting her own cum and your arousal heavy on her tongue.

“You’re a fucking bastard for keeping this pussy away from me for so long, Miller. She’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tried.” She continued licking at your clit, eyes slowly dragging to meet yours, now half open and heavy with arousal. “Ain’tcha, baby? So fucking sweet. Here, have a taste.” She dragged her fingers from your folds, reaching up towards your lips until you were sucking on them.

You moaned, her cum sweet and salty in your mouth. You continued sucking on them, slowly looking at Joel with a flicker of playfulness sparkling in your eyes. You treated her two digits like a cock, bobbing slowly, eyes never leaving your boyfriends. You finally pulled away with a pop, and Joel groaned out.

“Enough.” He growled, standing up and shoving his jeans down. His cock sprung out, and he pressed his tip against your lips. “Suck. Now.” He demanded.

You whined out as Tess removed her lips from your clit, instead opting to tease your folds, her tongue shoving deep inside of you. You leaned forward towards Joel’s dick, wrapping your lips around it as he grabbed your hand, his fingers interlocking with yours. His free hand reached down, gently rubbing the side of your head.

“That’s it. Suck this cock off, babydoll. Such a good fuckin’ girl for me.” His hips stuttered against you as you took him inch by inch, his tip reaching the back of your throat. You gagged softly, pulling ever so softly away, before beginning to bob up and down, your tongue swirling against the veined underside of his length.

Between your legs, Tess was slurping up your wetness, and when her lips attached to your clit again, you knew your orgasm was soon approaching. How you had lasted for so long was beyond you, you had no clue. You shivered against her pretty face, hips bucking as she returned to fingering you. That, mixed with the feeling of her lips on your clit, did your head in.

You cried out against Joel’s cock, which twitched in your mouth at the sound of your pleasure, your climax hitting you like a double decker bus. It felt so good, in fact, tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes.

You tried to focus on his cock, but you only got sloppier, tongue wild against his dick as you bucked your hips and clenched around her fingers, panting like a bitch in heat at the feeling of your orgasm.

“Get away from her, Joel.”

He grunted in annoyance, nonetheless obeying. Tess laid down on the bed, wiping her shining mouth off with the back of her hand, and patted her lap. “Sit.” She ordered you. Crawling over, you sat on her lap, your back pressed against her chest. “Joel, fuck her.”

A smirk spread across his face, and he positioned himself between your legs, pushing into you in one swift motion, right to the hilt. You moaned out. Tess’ hand crept to your neck, and as she grabbed it, she tilted your head back.

“Open your mouth, baby. Want you to taste yourself.” You leaned your head back against her shoulder, opening your mouth. Tess spit on to your tongue, the taste of your mixed cum and her spit sliding down your throat. You moaned at the flavor.

Joel filled you and stretched you good. He always had. It was like his cock was built specifically for your pussy.

“So fuckin’ good, angel.” He mumbled, his hands dragging up and down your sides. Joel’s thrusts were sloppy, and you knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

“We promised her two orgasms, Texas.” Tess purred. “So you better not cum fast.”

He panted out in annoyance, cheeks reddening as his arousal climbed and clawed up his body, his throat growing raw with desire. Joel’s palms dug into your hips, where he held you down in place against the mattress.

You could feel Tess’ wet cunt against your ass, and slowly her hands began to massage into your skin, until she reached your pussy once more.

“That pretty little clit is just begging for attention, isn’t it?” She whispered in your ear, biting down on your skin. “Should I oblige her?”

“Yes.” You begged.

Her hand came smacking down against your pussy, the sudden feeling causing you to jolt. “Yes what?” She asked lowly.

“Yes daddy.”

Joel groaned at the sound, the tip of his cock pressing against that spot each time he thrust. You weren’t sure how long you would last if he continued his thrusts, especially with Tess’ fingers exploring your pussy.

“That’s a good, good girl.” She began rubbing slow, deep circles against your clit, her hand still tight around your throat. “You really are such a sweet thing.”

You breathed out a jumble of syllables in response, feeling Joel’s fingers gently work at your nipples.

“My sweet thing.” He whispered, and your eyes fluttered open to look at him. Your eyes met, and a shared smile spread across your faces. Joel reached down, gently pressing his palm to your cheek. A shared moment of intimacy in an otherwise heinous, ungodly, sexually depraved scene. Your hand gently wrapped itself around the back of his, pressing him closer to your skin.

“So sweet.” Tess mumbled dryly, sarcastically, and you felt her mouth connect against your neck. You moaned out, and she grinned. “Just a dumb little fuck toy at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

You nodded, legs parting even further as your second orgasm loomed. Joel’s cock twitched inside you, and he leaned forward until he was pressed against you, his face resting in the crook of your neck.

“I-I’m gonna cum again.” You whined, Tess’ skillful fingers still working your clit.

“What about you, Texas?” Tess asked, her lips still working the skin of your neck.

“Please.” He growled through gritted teeth.

“Fine.” She finally gave permission, albeit rather dismissively.

Joel buried himself as deep as he could inside of you, spilling his seed with a loud growl, teeth clenching down on to your shoulder as you shared your orgasm. Waves of pleasure rolled over you, and you wrapped your arms around Joel, holding on to him as tightly as you could. Your belly clenched, clit growing sensitive as Tess carried you through your high, her fingers still rubbing up and down your sensitive nub.

Joel slowly pulled away, but Tess kept rubbing.

“Please.” You whimpered, more tears pooling in your eyes. “Too sensitive.” You tried to push her hand away, but Joel grabbed ahold of your wrist, planting a kiss to your forehead.

“Let her, babydoll. Let her use that pussy.” He whispered. As your over-sensitive clit was toyed with, Joel leaned forward, forehead resting on yours.

You whined breathlessly at that raw, burning feeling which cascaded through you, mixed with the coveted feeling of pleasure as Tess rubbed. Joel’s nose brushed into yours, his eyes boring in to your own.

“That’s my babydoll. Taking it so good. You’re such a good girl for me.” He whispered, gently pressing a series of mini-kisses into your mouth. “For us.” He corrected himself, which Tess moaned in agreement too.

“Thank you.” You moaned out earnestly, kissing him once more. You felt your belly tightening once more.

“Third one’s always the easiest.” Tess snickered, rubbing your clit between her index and thumb. “‘Specially when you’re just a pretty little fuck thing.”

Joel stared into your eyes, a grin gleaming over his lips, as your third and final orgasm washed over you. As you came, his name chanted from your mouth, and you collapsed into Tess’ chest, bodies sweaty and hot.

Joel pulled you in to his arms, cradling you to his chest as Tess threw on her shirt. She grinned at the both of you.

“Pretty cute together, y’know.” She admitted, running a hand through her hair. “Was this a good birthday?”

You let out a soft laugh, slowly coming to your senses as you nodded. “The best one I’ve ever had.”

Tess mirrored your own laugh, and you watched her fingers as she buckled her belt. “Let’s do it again sometime?”

As Joel kissed your neck, you smiled at her. “We can pretend my birthday is next week?”

The three of you shared a knowing look, and each of you knew what you had gotten yourself in to for the coming days, weeks, months- however long you possibly could. A pit of sexual desire and craving that would probably never be satiated, but none of you really cared.

All you knew is that the three of you had always made a great team, and you know what they say- three’s a party.

“Deal.”

325 notes · View notes

facioleeknow · 2 months

Text

Time for love ° Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin. the immortal Adonis, falls for a human.

WC: 2094 Genre: Greek mythology AU, angst, smut

TW: make up artist reader, model hyunjin, smut, masturbation, thigh riding, handjob, mention of cum, borderline asshole hyunjin, greek gods and goddesses, mention of blood, angry hyunjin and angry deities

AN: thank you from th ebottom of my heart to th elovely @leeknowsallyoursecrets , for giving me her opinion about this.

My Kofi if you want to support me <3.

Hyunjin was old. Hyunjin was really really old. Eternal youth they called it. When one thinks about youth, they imagine freshness and fun; a colorful, colorful phase when you get to try new things and explore the world. Hyunjin’s life was anything but; he had seen every corner of this earth and tried every experience that was humanly possible. His life was flat and gray, there was nothing more to do and he was bored.

He remembered his first life. His name was Adonis and he was considered the most beautiful man in the whole world; he was so beautiful that goddesses soon appeared on his doorstep and asked to share his bed. That’s how his story became myth, or what people thought it was.

He had lived many lives from then, he had taken many names and done many things, he lived a tranquil life and minded his business; had sometimes taken a couple of lovers but nothing that had stuck to him.

His life and pattern of change had come crumbling apart when one day the gods decided to come out in the open and introduce themselves to humans. With time everything was uncovered and the protagonists of every myth became their own kind of celebrities. He had never been more famous in his life, but he also had never been more lonely. He was beautiful and that was a fact, and with the fame came the modeling offers. He modeled for the most famous maisons of fashion of the world and people loved him. No they didn’t love him, they loved his body, they loved his face, they loved his fake smile and fake confidence.

His days were always the same, he would wake up at an insane hour, get on set, get ready, shoot, get unready, check social media and then go to bed, just to do it all the following day. Day after day the cycle had never been broken, for years on end. Until it had.

When he walked inside the photo studio, he could sense something had shifted in the air. He hated changes. A heavy hand smoothed back his unruly hair, his eyes closed almost on instinct after he sat down in his makeup chair. He had requested a special chair, made of one of the softest furs he had ever touched, where he could sleep and relax.

Something warm and small suddenly touched his shoulder, hesitantly. He hissed and his eyes shot open, his staff knew better than to interfere with his pattern.

His breath hitched in his throat when he opened his eyes. This wasn’t his usual make-up artist.

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hwang, I am Y/N L/N, your new makeup artist,” your voice was sweet, way too sweet to be human, but he knew all deities by heart. Perhaps some kind of creature.

“What happened to Ha-na?” his eyes bore holes into your skull, his gaze held a fiery passion you had never seen in your life. Is this how an immortal looks?, you thought.

“She’s on maternity leave, sir,” you had never felt that nervous in your life.

The conversation died off after that but his eyes were fixed on you. There was something about you that Hyunjin couldn't quite pinpoint, his inside felt like they were lit on fire. His head told him that if he looked away from you, something bad would've happened. He had to have you, one way or another, he didn't even care if you were human or not.

Since that day Hyunjin had always waited anxiously for your arrival every morning. You would always greet him with a tight lipped smile while you closed into fists your obvious shaky hands. He liked to think your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your chest because of him.

At night Hyunjin would lie awake and think about you, your hair, your lips, your hands, your eyes, but most of the time he would think about what laid under your clothes, how your curves would look and how they would feel in his big and soft hands.

He had to have you, he didn't care if you were human or not.

The second time Hyunjin spoke to you, it was weeks after your first encounter.

“What are you?” his eyes bored into yours like the first time you met.

“What do you mean sir?”

His presence felt almost overbearing, it looked like he was towering over you, it felt like he was everywhere, you couldn't run from him. But in reality he was still sitting in front of you.

“Don't play coy. What kind of creature are you?”

“Creature? I'm human, sir,” your eyes wide as saucers at his assumption. You? A supernatural creature?

“Are you lying to me?” His tone was stern and demanding.

“No, sir, I would never.”

He didn't reply.

He was scary. Immortals were scary and dangerous for humans more than anyone else. You should've been fearful of him but a familiar throb between your legs kept growing and growing and you couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Hyunjin could feel your arousal, he could read it on your face. After centuries he could read human emotions quite well.

“Everybody out!” His tone left no space for arguments. The staff and photographers scurried out of the room with their hearts in their throats.

“Come sit.” The immortal patted his spread legs, his big hand encased your wrist.

“Excuse me?”

“You don't want to?” he sounded cocky now, a new emotion he let you see.

“I didn't say that,” you stuttered.

“Then be a good girl and straddle my thigh.”

His hands never left your body, not even when you complied and positioned yourself how he asked. He was in control, he was the one guiding your movement.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt him ground you on his strong thigh.

“Please sir, touch me,” the shame fueled your pleasure like never before.

“No can do, get yourself off like this or don't at all.”

That was the best orgasm of your life.

After he touched you, Hyunjin couldn't get enough of you. He thought your voice was sweet at first, but your moans were even sweeter, your skin tasted like nectar and your pussy like ambrosia. He was addicted.

Sleep came easier to him now but not even in your dreams he could escape you. Your voice, your sweet whines, your skin, your scent, they all clouded his brain even in his slumber. He'd wake up hard as a rock every night and leaking. He would fuck his fist roughly, just how he liked it, he would use all of his toys and cum again and again until his seed had permanently stained his satin black sheets. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He had to feel you clench around him, he had to feel you rake your nails down his back, he had to push your legs to your chest and see fat tears roll down your cheeks.

So he would get up and drive to your house where he would fuck you until you both passed out. It became some sort of routine, one that he followed religiously. But the more he saw the bigger a foreign and strange feeling grew inside him. It started at the pit of his stomach and then spread through his chest like a warm blanket enveloping him in a tight hug. It was comforting and that unsettled him.

He was confused and ignorant, he hated that. But he knew that it didn't come from him, somebody was attacking him. That's how Hyunjin found himself in front of the goddess of love, Aphrodite, herself.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled. He knew yelling at a deity was not a smart move but the anger was consuming him, mixing with that strange feeling and making his blood hot.

“You cursed me, didn't you? You cursed me because I don't want to share a bed with you anymore, you selfish woman.” The moment those words came out of HYunjin’s mouth he regretted them. The room started shaking along with the anger of the goddess, everybody knew not to anger Aphrodite. he was foolish, he thought he could get away with it because he used to be her favorite lover. The goddess grew in stature, the light bulbs in the room exploded, leaving the only light her angry eyes.

“You foolish human, how dare you speak to me like this,” this was not Aphrodite the goddess of love, this was the goddess of fiery passion and victory, “ I did not curse you. You do not hold significance in my eyes anymore, you are a mere human. Humans all fall in love, it’s their destiny.”

The walls of the pristine white room they were in started to crack under the gravity of the goddess full immortal form. Hyunjin knew that the fact he was not dead meant that Aphrodite let him live as a sign of charity and because of the time they shared their bed. But she did not give second chances, she never had so he quickly kneeled and when he felt the presence of the immortal get gradually less overbearing he got up and walked backwards until back hit the door as a sign of respect and then left.

The drive home was pure madness, flashes of rage traveled through his body like lightning before leaving like nothing had happened. Hera was punishing him for angering her daughter, nothing was less expected from the goddess of family. When he stumbled into his house, with shaky hands he grabbed his ceremonial cup and offered his bloods to the gods to appease them and as a thanks for sparing his life.

The following day Hyunjin avoided looking at you in the eyes, he had never looked away from you, not even once. You were so used to having his fiery gaze on you that now your whole body felt cold as ice.

‘Maybe he’s tired,’ you thought while you worked. Tired or not, you felt him miles away from you even if you were touching his skin with your very own hands. Something had shifted between you.

The next day felt like a deja vù, Hyunjin still had his eyes closed and he still refused to talk to you. You felt wronged and cold. The following days followed the same pattern, it felt like a terrible nightmare. His nightly visits had also stopped and so did his texts.

Anger and frustration were eating away at you. Work had started to get tougher and Hyunjin’s attitude was making your mental health drop. The last straw was the pouring rain, you were stranded at work, with no umbrella, when all you wanted to do was go home, eat ice cream and sleep.

Fat teardrops started dropping down your cheeks, why was this all happening to you? Why couldn’t you live in peace? Why was Hwang Hyunjin doing this to you?

“Are you crying?” That voice. Hwang Hyunjin.

“That’s none of your business, Hyunjin,” you furiously wiped at your cheeks.

“It is,” his hand cupped your cheek and you had no strength to fight it, “ it is because you are the only woman i’ve ever loved in my long life.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Say that again.”

“You, “ he paused, “ are the only wo-”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, your lips attached to his and you richest deflated with relief. Kissing him felt familiar and natural. The recognizable desire that always lit within you when you were with him started spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands quickly traveled to his pants and unbuttoned his pants without thinking, you had done that countless times. His dick was already hard and leaking, waiting for you. Your soft hand wrapped around his velvety skin and tugged and moved just how you knew he liked, how you knew drove him mad. Your lips found his neck and nipped and sucked at his pulse point, his weak spot.

“Oh, baby, I’m not going to last, I think I’m cumming.”

A quick swipe of your thumb against his slip made him spill all over your hand, his head thrown back in ecstasy and his eyes tightly shut.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, lover, but first let me return the favor.”

A hand on his chest stopped him.

“Take me on a date first.”

“Whatever you want, lover.”

171 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 10 months

Text

Wood You Be Mine?

Pairing: Lumberjack!Joel Miller x reader

Word Count: 2,667

Summary: Your work and Grandmother bring you away from the city and into the mountains and you find more than just some peace and quiet.

Author's Note: I'm really enjoying these AU's with Joel! Been fun to explore and he wears enough flannels LOL Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: it's fun and flirty and reader is sassy and Joel is grumpy and it's fluffy and soft too!

Joel Miller Masterlist

After several miles of driving along a bumpy dirt road, the cabin appears. A puffing chimney tops a two-story log house, and red checkerboard curtains line the windows. You park your car in front of the porch. The only other vehicle you see on the property is an old blue pickup truck.

When you step out of the car, a rhythmic pounding echoes from the backyard, somehow in tune with the abundance of sounds from the surrounding woods.

You sneak around the side of the porch hoping to catch a glimpse of your newest client. He’d reluctantly agreed to have his cabin featured in your magazine but only because the story was about eco friendly homes built by their owners.

You round the corner of the house and stop dead in your tracks. You had no idea what the man looked like from the front, but from the back…well you liked what you saw.

His strong arms raise an axe high above his head, then crush it down on a log propped on another stump. The corded muscles of his forearms flex with every movement and his biceps are barely contained by the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel.

Faded and worn blue jeans hug his ass and thick thighs and a pair of scuffed up work boots complete the ensemble. A real-life lumberjack.

He stops momentarily, leaning over to grab a rag, and wipes the handle of the axe. He swings the axe again, splitting the log in front of him, and the two half pieces tumble to the ground.

Whatever noise of appreciation comes out of your mouth was not meant for his ears but suddenly, his head whips around and he levels you with an aggravated glare.

He drops the axe to the ground and stalks over to where you stand, his dark brown eyes narrowed and his soft lips tight with his gritted teeth.

“Can I help you with somethin’? Since you’re trespassin’?” he rumbles.

His eyes rake over you and he glances toward the sky.

“From the city?”

You bristle. “Yeah, and what’s it to ya?”

He snorts. “Those boots look real practical darlin.’ I’m sure they’ll come in handy for the next snow storm.”

You look down at your heeled feet. “We plow snow in the city. Super convenient. You know since people like to get a life. Do things. Instead of hiding away in the mountains.”

He raises a bushy eyebrow. “Uh huh. Well, good for you. Any reason why you’re interrupting me.”

“Just here to take the pictures for Mountain Living magazine.”

You rummage through your bag and pull out some papers, passing them his way. You can’t help but notice how his hands dwarf them.

“So you’re the photographer.”

“Yep,” you answer, popping the p and giving him your name.

“Joel Miller,” he grunts and stands to his full height, crossing his thick arms over his broad chest.

You smile brightly and bat your lashes.

He scowls.

“Let’s go inside so you can take your pictures. And then you can get back to your fancy city life.”

You follow him inside, careful to avoid the mud puddles. A loud, keening screech shatters the silence and you yelp in surprise. You slide in your boots and bump into Joel, grabbing his thick bicep for safety.

A huge bird swoops by and lands on a nearby tree branch, ruffling it’s feathers and eyeballing you. Your fingers flex on his muscle and you gasp.

“What is that? It looks like a dinosaur! Is it going to eat us?”

“It’s just a hawk darlin’,” he answers with a shake of his head. “Shit, don’t they have any birds in the city?”

“I mean sure,” you begin, “but they are small and hop around a lot.”

He stares at you, unmoving. “Well, you’re not in any danger. Unless it decides to take a shit on your head.”

He says it without cracking a smile.

“Aren’t you hilarious,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes.

“Why exactly are you up here in the wilderness?” he asks. “You don’t seem too excited about it.”

“Other than work…I’m visiting my grandmother. She lives up here and I’m staying with her for the next month. Getting some fresh air and all that.”

“Just as you step up onto the porch you hear a whining noise. A fluffy yellow lab ambles over and sits on your boot, wagging it’s tail and looking up at you with big brown eyes.

“Who’s this?” you ask as you lean down to pet the dog.

“That’s Winston.”

“He’s a lab right?”

“Yep.”

You cough to hide your laugh. “He’s very cute but I thought it was mandatory for all people living here to have some huge breed like a Pyrenees or Saint Bernard.”

“Does your grandmother have some giant dog?” he asks.

“Two Swiss Mountain dogs actually. Bert and Ernie.”

He surprises you with a huge smile. His whole face lit up, his eyes even crinkling at the corners.

“Nice names. I like your grandmother.”

“She’s the best. Even if she worries too much about me. She wants me to move out of the city and come up here for the cleaner air!”

He opens the front door and ushers you inside. “She has a point. It’s much healthier here.”

“And boring-er.”

The door bangs shut behind him.

“That’s not a word.”

“It should be. At least up here.”

He doesn’t look amused and instead walks over to small desk in the corner and shuffles some papers.

You take a look around and blink in surprise. It’s gorgeous. The granite fireplace is surrounded by hand-made wooden furniture and the high ceilings and large windows create a rustic and beautiful scene.

“You look shocked,” he chuckles from behind you.

“Oh,” you startle. “It’s just…it’s so beautiful. How did you do all this?”

He smiles again. “It took a lot of time and sawdust.”

You walk around, running your fingertips over the curves of the furniture and firing off the names of all the different woods it’s made of.

“How do you know so much about that?”

“I’ve taken enough pictures of furniture and asked enough questions to know most types of wood,” you explain.

“Well, now, isn’t that funny. City girls knows all about timber but is scared of the outdoors.”

“I never said that!” you grumble.

“I could see it all over your face when the hawk flew by! You look around like somethin’s gonna jump out and eat ya!”

You narrow your eyes and step closer to him. “That’s just not true. I’m not scared of the woods…I’m simply afraid of…of…certain large mammals that might enjoy life in the woods…you know rubbing up against trees, eating berries and honey and maybe an occasional human!”

“What in the world…?” Joel smirks.

“I’m afraid of bears!” you say as you sit on his couch and slump back.

He tries to stifle a laugh. “I’m guessin’ there’s a story hiding somewhere darlin’.”

“I’m guessing my grandmother is expecting me for dinner. I better get started on the pictures so I’m not late.”

You shuffle with your camera equipment until you’re satisfied then start snapping shots. You’re in the zone and hardly feel Joel’s eyes on you as you work. When you’re done you pack up and hold out your hand to him.

“It was nice to meet you Joel.”

Your hand is engulfed by warm, rough skin and so much strength. You peer up into his face and expect a snarky smile but instead you gasp softly at the winded look you find. He blinks slowly and he tightens his grip before tugging on your hand.

Your boots slide across the hard wood floor until your inches away from him and his gaze drops to your mouth.

Your knees buckle when Winston slams against your legs and wiggles his body between the two of you.

Joel sighs. “Damn dog.” But he leans down and affectionately rubs behind his ears.

Winston sits on your feet and presses his body weight against you, relishing the ear rubs.

“Winston,” you coo as you join in.

“Sorry about him. He’s a big fan of affection.”

You clear your throat. “Isn’t everyone?”

His eyes level with yours and you get caught in his gaze, a warmth spreading along your skin.

“I better get going. I’ll be sure to e-mail you the proofs of the pictures so you can be part of the selecting process.”

You fly out of the house and into the car, tearing down the dirt road then peeking in your rear-view mirror to see Joel standing out on his porch.

“I need a drink,” you mumble before turning toward the small town.

Joel runs a hand through his already disheveled hair after he pulls into the parking lot of the general store in town.

He knows a hot cup of coffee will help and one of those muffins that the owner’s wife bakes.

The general store has it all…coffee, muffins, dog biscuits, a new axe…and you.

There you are, smack dab in the middle of the aisle stocked with wine. You grab a bottle and round the corner toward the register.

The owner, Mark, chats you up as you check out.

“Celebrating something tonight miss?” Mark asks.

“Actually no, just visiting with my grandma but I needed a drink,” you explain to Mark.

“Not sure that’s somethin’ your grandma should be drinkin’.”

At the sound of that familiar deep voice you grit your teeth and turn to face him.

The look of indignation on your face almost makes Joel laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching with his suppression.

“Grandma loves her wine Mr. Miller. And she’s old enough to enjoy it!”

Joel can’t hold back any longer and lets out a bark of laughter.

“What’s so funny?”

He steps closer and gives you a once-over before taking a sip of his coffee and raising an eyebrow.

You want to stomp your feet. “I’m surprised you even have wine in this town!”

“It’s not the middle of nowhere. We have electricity, indoor plumbing and the internet! It’s all very modern.”

“Oh yeah sure it is,” you tease. “That explains the jars of penny candy then! And if that’s what you call coffee…well…”

You look to Mark standing at the cash register, “no offense Mark.”

“None taken,” the old man says kindly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Thank you Mark. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go enjoy this with my grandmother!”

You grab your bag of wine and march out the door, this time feeling the heat of Joel’s stare at your back.

“Is there anywhere else you want to go before we head back Grandma?”

She smiles and asks you to take her to the general store to visit Mark and get some coffee, telling you it’s been ages since she’s been in to see him.

“Sure Grandma. I’d get coffee too but I think I’ll pass…”

Your Grandma chuckles and pats your knee, still smiling.

As you walk around the store and listen to your Grandma talking with Mark you can’t help it as your thoughts wander back to Joel and the undeniable heat you feel whenever you’re near him. When you make it to the register your Grandma and Mark are talking in hushed voices, glancing your way and looking suspicious as you get closer.

“What’s going on?”

Your Grandma looks at you knowingly. “Mark here was just telling me that you took the pictures of Joel’s cabin for your magazine.”

Your eyebrows come together. “But how did he know that?”

“Joel told me,” Mark explains. “Said you took fantastic pictures. Really captured the heart and soul of his place.”

You smile at that and your Grandma’s face brightens.

“He’s a good man. A bit gruff, but good. Better than most actually.”

You look at your Grandma, letting her words sink in as you become more confused. “You know Joel?”

“Everyone knows everyone ‘round here baby,” your Grandma says. “And when I tell you Joel’s one of the good ones you best believe it.”

“Why should it matter to me?” you ask as realization dawns on you.

Your Grandma and Mark share an entertained expression.

“OH NO!” you say, far too loudly. “No way! There is no way in hell I’m getting involved with a big, cranky, grumpy, Lab-owning, house building, bearded lumberjack who lives in the middle of nowhere!”

Both your Grandma and Mark smirk and glance over your shoulder.

“Hi Joel,” Mark says. Good to see you again.”

You narrow your eyes at Mark. “Funny. You expect me to believe that he’s standing behind me?” Just how naïve do you think I am!”

A low rumble in your ear raises every hair on your body.

You turn until Joel’s face comes into view, his beard, complete with patches of gray, only inches from your lips.

“For the record, I’m only grumpy when people trespass on my property.”

He smiles and places some dog biscuits down on the counter before walking off down another aisle.

Your Grandma cackles. “Oh he definitely likes you.”

Mark nods enthusiastically in agreement before you look between them both and stomp off in a different direction.

Unfortunately that direction takes you smack into the hard chest of your grumpy lumberjack.

“Oof,” you mutter, closing your eyes when his strong hands close around your waist.

“You ok darlin’? You were comin’ round that corner so fast I didn’t have time to move. Sorry.”

“I’m fine,” you whisper, slowly opening your eyes until your vision is filled with the soft brown color of his.

“And by the way,” he continues. “I might be slightly grumpy, a lab-owner and a builder but I ain’t no lumberjack.”

“Really,” you muse, still standing close enough that you can feel his chest brush yours with his inhale. “Let’s see,” you point at his flannel shirt. “Plaid shirt. Check! Axe? Saw you use one of those! Check! Beard,” and you glance at his chin, your fingers slowly lifting until your brush them over his cheek.

“Check.” The last one comes out breathy and light.

Joel chuckles, dipping his head until his warm breath fans your cheek and his lips brush the shell of your ear.

“What do you say to lettin’ me take ya out for a bite to eat? There’s a local dive that makes decent food and I think they even have wine.”

You pause, trying to steady your shallow breathing.

“Well, I guess that might be okay. Considering there’s wine…and Grandma says the college boys are really cute here in town.”

Joel frowns. “College boys? I don’t think college boys would know how to satisfy a sophisticated city woman like you.”

He strokes his callused fingers over your soft jaw. “I think you might need a real man for the job.”

You still beneath his touch, then let out a slow breath.

“What makes you think I’m looking for a real man? Maybe I’ve sworn off all men for a while.”

“I don’t think you have any idea what a real man can do for you darlin’.”

Your eyes linger on his mouth and he clears his throat, but his voice still comes out gravelly and strained.

“Lumberjack men don’t fool around. What you see is what you get. And when we see what we want…”

He stares at your lips, pouting and inviting. “We take it.”

Your lips part on a breathy gasp before you recover and sass him with, “but you said it yourself, you’re no lumberjack.”

He just smiles and waits, softly tracing the outline of your jaw.

You run your tongue over your lips and stare at him.

“Okay. You can take me out.”

He grabs your hand and turns on his heel, pulling you right past the register and out the door.

(Don’t worry, Grandma got a ride home and is safe and sound- neither Joel nor our reader would never leave her hanging).

@pedritosdarling @lorilane33 @hiddles-rose @blackwidownat2814 @justkinsey @littleseasiren @laineyreads @beccablogsthings @kmc1989 @hallecarey1

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #lumberjack!joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #lumberjack!joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #lumberjack au #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal

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thel0v3hashira143 · 4 months

Text

❝𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐔𝐏!❞

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ eren armin jean reiner n levi ☆ various aot men as dads!!

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ fem!reader (referred to as mom or mommy), black aligned reader but as per usual anyone can read

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ notes: y'all thought i was playin when i said had 2 other pieces huh...well anyways heres my 2nd official revamp entry!! erm i hope u guys like it cause i lost like 3 hours of sleep over this. (its bhm you have to like it or else) stay hot!! 🎀🎀

eren yaeger 🌸

2 words. girl dad.

this man was born to have an army of girls surrounding him at all times (but he's not necessarily complaining in this case)

you two's daughter is a very passionate and outgoing child and eren totally embraces that

he's deeply involved in his child's life, sharing stories about the world and instilling a sense of curiosity (aka giving her bad ideas)

he was an outside and play in the mud kid so he is all for letting her have free range to express/play how she wants

and he's a sucker for your little girl so he usually gets roped into her shenanigans

when you come home and the house is quiet you know those two are up to something nefarious 😭😭

"eren, why the hell does my kitchen look a hot ass mess?"

"she wanted to make a cake, babe!"

i can see your daughter playing sports (soccer specifically) and he is 1000 the dad that yells at the ref.

"did you see that [name]!? that brat just pushed her over l, why didn't that bastard call it!?"

will get down and dirty for his girls. no matter what

emphasizes the importance of freedom, encouraging your to pursue her dreams no matter what.

actually the most supportive ever??

your daughter wants to play 10 different sports? he's buying all the equipment no matter the cost. she wants to be the next picasso? he'll buy her brand new art supplies and be her model.

just hes so just....*sigh*

armin arlert 🌸

my man, loml, my day 1, my soul mate my everything (he was my first anime crush i will be projecting on this one argue wit ur mama)

he is definitely a gentle parent to your little boy who's just a shy little dude

armin knows what it feels like to be that shy and quiet kid so he's very patient and understanding

him and your son are practically carbon copies of eachother minus his curly hair (which he got from you) but you think its adorable

speaking of hair HE TOTALLY LEARNS TO BRAID/DO TWIST

he knew taking care of your son's hair was going to require extra effort because of his texture but he doesnt care and learns anyway (sob sob)

him and your son are attached at the hip and wherever one goes you typically find the other.

they spend many quiet moments together and obviously armin reads him multiple stories before bed.

i can totally see y'alls son being an artist/artistically gifted

you can find him and armin sprawled out on the floor with paper and various art supplies as armin nods along to the nonsense coming out of your son's mouth

"mhmm, oh i see! i think that color looks great there too."

meanwhile you're in the corner just sobbing and dying of cuteness in your house

much like eren he teaches his son the values of curiosity and freedom, even if his son is a little more reserved

he wouldn't ever force him into doing anything he doesn't want to, but encourages him in the small things

i also fantasize about living by a beach with armin so ik he takes y'all to the beach at least 3 times a month.

every single time he goes he carries his son on his hip as the explore the beach in search of shells and other treasures to take home.

"you like this one buddy? why don't we give it to mommy as a nice present, yeah?"

i can't write too long or imma short circuit but i will be expanding on this because i love armin so much

he's so neat :]

jean kirstein 🌸

jean, as a dad, is like a mix of cornyness and seriousness

on the one hand i can totally see him making the stupidest dad jokes while you and your daughter are just like 🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️

like the irl personification of "im not a regular mom, i'm a cool mom"

but on the other hand he's just like my dad where he can turn anything into a life lesson and you have to sit while he scolds your daughter for at least 30 minutes

it's all out of love tho

he thrives in a lighthearted atmosphere at home and spending time together is a huge thing for him

he is a bbq/camping dad and no i will not take criticism on this

jean takes pride in teaching life skills, from fixing things around the house to imparting practical wisdom (even though it isn't always wanted 💀)

your daughter will likely be well-prepared for the challenges of the world. he likes to think he's the reason she has a good head on her shoulders.

speaking of which, your daughter is very much sassy...(jean swears she gets if from you but we know the truth)

shes the first one to have something smart to say and its gotten her in trouble quite a few times with jean...but theyre besties.

balances tough love with genuine affection, cause he definitely mellowed out as he got older but knows when to put his foot down (unlike eren. what who said that??)

your daughter knows she can always count on him. ♡

reiner braun 🌸

AURGGYGHH I LOVE THIS MAN

anyways as soon as your son was born he only knew one word.

panic.

specifically timeskip!reiner. i can only imagine him as a worrier and a helicopter parent up until your son is like 6-7.

"rei, if you don't let that boy go play with the other kids!" "[name], i read that a slide has 82 times more germs than a kitchen sink. i won't let him be exposed to that."

it's just like *sigh* but thanks to you he eventually mellows out.

y'alls son is a really kind boy. like stupidly nice. damn near a pushover. (but we love him)

while you're ready to fight the other parents (or kids) who hurt your baby, reiner is actually more gentle in his approach

he's clearly a big strong guy but he's very gentle in his approach when it comes to seeing his son cry or just in general

reiner, as a dad, is the protector. he's vigilant and caring, instilling a strong sense of security in your home

your son feels safe knowing reiner is there to shield him from any harm.

seeing talk all soft to y'alls son makes you go sksmwkwmwka he's so man...

"hey, me and mom love you very much. you got that bud?"

balances strength with gentleness. offering a listening ear and encouraging open communication.

he wants his son to know he'll always be there for him since he never really had a father growing up

safe to say your son grows up feeling understood and supported by both parents ♡

levi ackerman 🌸

for sure the strictest dad on this list.

from the moment your daughter was born he had her on a schedule that was planned meticulously.

like hour by hour he knows what's going on and you're just there like🧍🏽‍♀️

"i read a consistent schedule helps with her brain development." "...."

as she gets older he calms down a little. but like only the smallest little bit.

however! levi, although strict, is a fiercely devoted dad

this just came to me but he's the dad where if you our your daughter syas you like a snack one time he'll buy a lifetime supply until you tell him otherwise

despite his stoic exterior, Levi has a soft spot for his child's well-being and takes pride in their achievements, no matter how small

your daughter is a dancer. fight me.

even if you can't make it, you see him in the audience at every recital with a soft smile.

"you did great. yes, i recorded all of it for mom to see too."

ngl he is very rule oriented but 9/10 he bends begrudgingly for your daughter (she looks like you, so he can never say no.)

he values discipline and order but also knows the importance of showing love and appreciation.

like reiner he didn't grow up with the best father figure (if one at all) or anyone to really give him confidence growing up.

your daughter never doubts that daddy loves her and thinks she's the best ♡

he also is so skilled at doing hair?? probably better than armin.

ponytail, bun, twist, braids, you name it, he can do it. (has put you shame on multiple occasions)

teaches self-reliance and responsibility, ensuring his child is well-prepared for life's challenges.

expects excellence but also provides unwavering support

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 2nd piece done!! why was i fighting for my life during jean and reiner's....but i actually really wanna expand on dad!armin and dad!levi so maybe i'll give all the kids names sometime in the future. i tried to finish this is my ap chem class and my teacher almost took my phone 💀💀 but expect more soon cause i am on a roll! 🏃🏽‍♀️💨

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲 ♡

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𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚!

𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙡0𝙫3𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖143 2024

#Words of the Love Hashira 💗#aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #eren x reader #armin x reader #jean x reader #reiner x reader #levi x reader #black writers on tumblr #x black fem reader

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aziraphales-library · 13 days

Note

Hi there everyone! Thank you so much for everything that you do~

I was wondering if you could please recommend some fics that have absolutely beautiful prose? I couldn't find a tag for it but similar to A portrait in synesthesia or The Injury Of Finally Knowing You (unpack_my_heart_with_words).

Thank you and hope you're all having a lovely day❤

Here are some fics from my bookmarks that I have tagged "beautiful"...

Strawberry Wine by GaryOldman (NR)

Human AU Ineffable Husbands one shot. "You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you." - Richard Siken

Empty and Desolate, The Air by asparkofgoodness (M)

Ever a guardian, Aziraphale kept watch. Sliver-shafts of moonlight sliced ribbons across Crowley’s face. The emptiness of it unnerved the angel. Even in slumber, his expressive face had always told stories. Syllables shifted in the corners of his mouth; sentences found themselves punctuated with the movement of an eyebrow. Now, only still silence, even in sleep. Heavenly forces decide the best way to get their once-dutiful soldier back is to slaughter his only real reason for rebellion. Their attempt leaves Crowley wounded and voiceless. Aziraphale tries his best to heal him and accept the soundlessness of this new verse of their song.

You Said Go Slow (I Fall Behind) by BlackUnicorn (G)

Further up, still, half-hidden by the branches of the trees and the leaves of the hedges, stood a cottage. It looked like any other cottage, really, with a thatched roof and a fainted paintjob and a garden out back. However, anyone who took a closer look would agree that this particular cottage was, in fact, quite extraordinary – the roses ranking up the stone arch in the front bloomed more lustrous than any roses ever seen on earth, the car in the driveway was almost antique and yet looked like it had rolled out of the factory no longer than a few weeks ago, the shelves inside held more books than should be physically possible, and the Mona Lisa sketch in the hallway was said to have been signed by dear old Leo himself. And there, in the first-floor bedroom, covered by piles of duvets and blankets, lay the Demon Crowley, alone, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling from behind his sunglasses, waiting for dawn. *** Sometimes healing and moving on is the hardest part.

Exit Wounds by racketghost (T)

“At least they were together for a time,” Crowley says, staring at the lit end of his cigarette, “maybe that’s enough.” Part 1 of Strange Moons series (G-E)

l’esprit de l’escalier by seekwill (M)

l’esprit de l’escalier: that feeling you get when you leave a conversation and think of all the things you should have said With his books and his clothes and other curiosities he’d collected since beginning his time in London, Aziraphale considered himself a curator of beautiful things. He found beauty in people too, in the way they moved and spoke and laughed. This man, who was very nearly past him now, almost gone, shook him. He couldn’t understand why. There was an impulse to reach out, to wrap his blunt fingers around the man’s skinny wrist on his handlebars, say “Hello there, might you have a moment to explore why I’ve fallen in love with you just now?” An adaptation of Jean-Pierre Jeunet's 2001 film Amélie, as part of the GO Romantic Comedy Event

Not a Human AU by maniacalmole (G)

Aziraphale knows Crowley has a crush and doesn't know what to do about it. Aziraphale wasn’t sure if he considered himself ‘alive’ or not. What would he do if he had to live a life? We may not be people, Crowley thought. But I do—I do want.

And the two you mentioned...

The Injury Of Finally Knowing You by unpack_my_heart_with_words (T)

Once in heaven, the angels do what they always do— a kindness. The only blessing is that without his memories, Aziraphale has no idea what he has lost. It will end, as it began, in a garden.

A Portrait in Synesthesia by DiminishingReturns (M)

In the innocent time before the Fall complicated everything, one shy, studious chronicler and one curious, chaotic starmaker fell in love. They were left with no memory of each other, but the soul remembers what the mind forgets, and their experiences together left them with a unique kind of synesthesia— the emotional state, mannerisms, and voice of one having a paired physical response (smell, taste, or color) in the other. Follow Aziraphale and Crowley from the pre-Fall times to the Apocalypse as these heightened earthly senses continually pull them back together. At first, they meet tentatively under Halley’s Comet, the last thing Crowley created as a starmaker and an excuse to keep returning to one another’s orbit. But over the millennia, their relationship deepens and they find new reasons to seek each other’s company.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #prose #beautiful #mod d

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ejunkiet · 7 months

Text

can I come home to you?

i've had porter brain rot this week, and I wanted to explore Porter developing feelings for his new lover. >:3

redacted porter/treasure, rated teen.

cw: messy emotions, blood drinking, it's vampires okay.

“I like the glimpses I've seen of you, the real you. And I want to know more.” He holds their gaze for a long moment, an intensity there that steals their breath away, before he finally breaks the contact and looks away. “I’m not sure you’d like what you find.”

READ IN FULL ON AO3

can I come home to you?

“What do you see when you look at me?”

His voice is a low murmur, barely audible over the sound of the water, the glide of his hand along the skin of their naked back. They’ve been soaking together long enough in the deep seated bathtub that they run the risk of the water growing cold, but neither of them make any move to leave, lingering in the warmth of their shared body heat.

They can hear the slow, steady beat of his heartbeat through his chest, a familiar rhythm, reverberating against their cheek. It had surprised them to feel it that first night, the thrum of it beating beneath their palm through the silk blend of his shirt.

Expecting something else? His silver eyes had glinted as he asked the question, a sharp smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Don’t believe everything you read, my dear.

A lot of time has passed since then, and they know better. Vampires weren’t like the stories.

“Why do you ask?” They say instead of answering his question, twisting in his arms until they can meet his gaze. The water swirls around them, the cooler currents sending a chill across their skin, but they don’t mind it, watching him as they settle against the otherside of the tub.

“It’s just a question. Call it… curiousity.” He watches them back, a smile curling up the corners of his mouth. They can’t help the way their eyes are caught on the soft plush of his lower lip. “It’s been a while since I’ve had an arrangement like this. Indulge me.”

When he speaks, they can see the sharpness of his teeth.

It’s a symptom of the hunger. His eyes are darker than usual too, and they can see flecks of crimson in the halo of his iris, stark against the winter storm harboured there.

He hasn't fed from them yet. He’d hesitated when they’d opened the door to their apartment, the dark, sleek lines of his dinner jacket blending in with the shadows of the hall, his eyes sharp as he took them in, head to foot. They could feel every inch of their exhaustion as if it were a weight, dragging at their body. He could sense it too.

At their invitation, he’d crossed the threshold and taken them into his arms. You look exhausted. Let me take care of you.

And true to his word, he had.

“I see a beautiful man with striking eyes and a sharp smile. Intelligent. Charming. Devious.” He tips his head in acknowledgment, a smile curling his lips, pleased. “You know what you want, and aren’t afraid to ask for it. And I think that most of the time... you get it.”

His smile widens, an amused glint in the silver of his eye. “You wouldn’t be wrong.”

They return his grin, resting their arms against the side of the tub and tilting their head, considering him from under their lashes. “I… also think there is more to you than meets the eye. You hide behind your charm, but you’re not as slick as you think you are.”

Slowly, carefully, they shift in the water, drawing closer until they’re crouched between his legs, the subtle contact of skin on skin sending a thrill through them. His eyes don't leave theirs, dark pools so deep they could drown in them.

“I like the glimpses I've seen of you, the real you. And I want to know more.”

He holds their gaze for a long moment, an intensity there that steals their breath away, before he finally breaks the contact and looks away.

His voice is soft when he does speak again. “I’m not sure you’d like what you find.”

“I think I can be the judge of that.”

Reaching up, they cup their hand to his face, letting their thumb trace the soft curve of his cheek until he turns back to face them. He parts his lips, his eyes dark, the heavy weight of his pupils swallowing the iris, and he looks - hungry. On the edge of his control.

“You don’t scare me. And I want to help.” They offer him a soft smile, before they press the base of their thumb to the sharp point of his canine, applying pressure until it slices through.

A soft, broken sound escapes him as the blood reaches his tongue, before his mouth seals over the wound, sucking hard. His tongue laps at their skin, and they feel the edge of his teeth, before he reaches up to grip their wrist, his grip tight, but not tight enough to hurt.

Slowly, but firmly, he draws their hand back, the red of their blood staining his lips. Holding their gaze, he tilts his head to press a kiss against their thumb. Their skin tingles like pins and needles, before flooding with a rush of warmth. When he draws back, the cut is gone.

“You really are sweet,” he says as he lowers their hand, adjusting his grip until it’s clasped between them. His palms are soft, warm to the touch. “But you don’t need to do that.”

Their heartbeat skips inside their chest. “But you’re hungry.”

“I am.” When he meets their gaze again, his eyes are black as pitch, none of the iris remaining. His voice is soft, removed of inflection, and it’s hard to read his expression like this, caught in the dark well of his gaze. “But I didn’t come here for this.”

They’re not sure they believe him. It’s not as if they minded, either way. Their blood is a gift they offer to him freely. But… there’s a tension in him now, tightening the line of his jaw, and they realise that maybe they’d crossed a line, overstepped a boundary.

They take their hand back as that thought sits in their gut, the guilt a sudden, heavy thing pooling like lead in the pit of their stomach. “I’m sorry. I should have asked first-”

“None of that,” He cuts them off with a shake of his head, the dark strands of his hair curling around his face. “You did nothing wrong. Look at me, treasure.”

He waits until they do, his dark eyes steady on theirs, but not unkind.

“You’re kind, and generous. Perhaps… too generous.” He releases a soft breath, a smile curling up the corners of his mouth. “But that isn’t a bad thing.”

He holds out a hand, and after a moment, they take it, letting him draw them back towards him, lifting their hand until he can press a soft kiss against their palm. His eyes are silver when he meets their gaze again, the animal within contained, for now.

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m older than I look. I can control my hunger. And this…” he brushes his lips against their knuckles, “...will be enough for tonight.”

He lowers their hand gently into the water and lays back against the edge of the tub. With a twist of his wrist, the water heats again, the steam curling around them like a soft caress.

“Stay here with me a little while longer.”

–

They’re not sure how long they spend together like that, warm skin on skin, touching, talking. At some point, they must fall asleep, as they wake to find themself in his arms as he carries them to their room, dressed in fresh pyjamas and the nape of their neck still damp.

From the flash of the night outside that’s just starting to lighten, clouds stained a reddish pink, the prelude of a new day. The sight of it sends a flicker of panic ricocheting through their chest, and they twist in his arms, fingers clutching at the front of his shirt. “Porter… the sky…”

He hums as he glances down at them, before following their eyeline to the window, smiling at the first signs of the encroaching dawn. “It won’t take me long to reach my lodgings. The sun won't be able to touch me. Don’t you fear, love.”

Love. Their heart skips a beat inside their chest at the way he says it, soft, as if he didn’t even notice himself saying the word as he carries them through their apartment

He places them gently on the bed, tugging their blankets up around them, and not for the first time, they want to ask him to stay the night, take shelter with them through the day, let this be more.

They swallow down the urge and instead say, “I’m glad you came.”

He pauses beside the window, lowering his hands from where he’d been lowering the blinds, a smile flickering across his features in the dim light, softer than they think they’ve seen from him before. “I am too.”

He watches them for another long moment, before he steps back from the window and turns towards the door. “Sleep well, treasure.”

A flicker of movement, and then he’s gone.

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted porter #ej writes redacted #I wanted this out before the new audio skskks #this is not my ideal posting time #and I also had a Lot of Thoughts #which resulted in a lot of different ideas in this #so likely some edits later as well #but ENJOY #writing

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bingiessm · 2 months

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ANOTHER LONG POST for the Bridgerton over-analysis corner! SEASON 3 TRAILER & PROMO ANALYSIS

I JUST NOTICED SOMETHING!!

THAT IS VIOLET BRIDGERTON! IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FIRST "NON-INTRO" SHOT WITH FRANCESCA!

The first shot of any main character in the entire trailer is this one. Francesca is dancing with a suitor, the camera pushes forward and directs the eye right to Violet who is standing right in the middle, but with an unknown man in front of her.

Oh, I think there are going to be so many parallels between these two this season--especially in terms of romance. They have mostly been seen together or with "suitors" during all these promos and/or in direct comparison/association with one another.

MORE EVIDENCE:

SECOND SHOT of either of them: they are together--and are shown to be equals here, as compared to how Violet was when she presented Daphne or Eloise to the Queen:

Violet, with her other two daughters, was standing BEHIND them! (Also on their right side.) Now she's on the left, standing at Francesca's side--presenting them as equals.

Also, she isn't matching with Francesca like she was Eloise and Daphne--her outfit for this event changed slightly between the first two seasons (take note of the collar and crown), but has now changed dramatically. She at first presented herself as a fellow debutante (take note of the white dress and the gloves), but now is sporting a silver dress with long sleeves with clear grecian influence.

Violet has CHANGED, she isn't a background to or support for her daughter, she is her own person in front of the whole ton. She is also being "presented" in a way, but as this new self.

There is a new Viscountess, more of her children are married and leaving, and (as of Queen Charlotte we know that) she has had a lot of realizations about her marriage and sexuality. The world she knew as Viscountess and wife to Edmund is slowly changing, fading away to something new that she is beginning to embrace.

I think we will see her come more into her own, and not just as a mother or widow--this will be reflected in Francesca, who is going to struggle with finding a relationship that lives up to her mother & father's (and those of her siblings), especially watching her mother finally start to move on.

Right after this sequence is a sequence of Violet and her presumed new love interest, directly associating the two--they are also linked with the narration "what is the primary force that guides us along our paths?" A question I feel will be explored by the both of them.

It seems as if Violet is accepting this new love this season. Francesca, on the other hand, will struggle with romance this season. Every time we have seen her on her own, or with or having just spoken to suitors she seems unsure, worried.

Violet watches her sit at this ball (the Four Seasons one) and takes a breath and sighs in an interesting way--sort of knowingly but resigned(?).

It is also interesting to note within this dynamic that this is Francesca's first season, but not Violet's--as a mother or debutante.

TRAILER ANNOUNCEMENT:

Also, when looking at their appearances in the trailer announcement, it is interesting to see the difference in how they both were portrayed.

Violet is looking, then pulls back to look on in question, as if realizing something, but is curious for more. Francesca opens it and looks unsure again, twisting her mouth. I feel like this is reflective of how their seasons will be.

I just find the clear connection between their stories that the trailer in particular wants us to take note of to be very interesting. It is exciting to see how they will both grow/change. Especially being mother and daughter, which is a dynamic that has been explored to an extent in this show (thinking of Daphne and Violet in season 1, but even that didn't feel fleshed out), but not much. _______________

BUT ANYWAY to others who have read my other Bridgerton posts, omg thanks for chatting and indulging me in this.

I just finished a big film shoot for a project so this has been a nice reprieve from the stress of that.

Hope you are doing well!

#bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #violet bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #francesca bridgerton #I have rewatched this trailer so many times now its sort of a problem #bridgerton season 3 #bridgerton spoilers #bridgerton speculation #film analysis #bridgerton season 3 spoilers #bridgerton s3 spoilers #mother/daughter

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mayajadewrites · 3 months

Text

I Wish I Hated You (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

story summary: You don't do second chances. Especially after you gave your heart to Levi Ackerman, and he decided to throw it away so the next person has to repair the damage. Will Levi put his ego aside and finally admit his feelings for you are far deeper than you imagined? Or is a second chance out of the question?

ao3

C H A P T E R E I G H T : T O M O R R O W

WARNING: explicit scenes in this chapter!! let me know what you think :)

Levi lead you into his living room that you were all too familiar with. His expression was... blank. You couldn't tell if he was sad, mad, or anything in between.

You sit on the couch opposite to the chair he's sitting in. "Levi, I-"

"You should know this," Levi looks down. "I'm not the best at... well, talking. My mother is someone who was... so special to me."

"Levi." You press your hand on top of his. "I'm here to listen."

Levi sighs as he sits back in his chair. "My mother and I grew up poor. Like, dirt poor." Levi started talking. It feels like it's been forever since you and him had an actual conversation instead of just arguing. "We were couch surfing and squatting in abandoned houses. Then, she got sick. We don't know what it was since we couldn't afford to go to a doctor. We couldn't even afford food. I was starving every day. Dreaming of bread." Levi looks down. "One day, she wouldn't even attempt to get out of bed. Or even talk to me. I remember her telling me about her brother, my uncle, and I had his phone number written down. I begged the corner store to let me use their phone, and thankfully they let me."

Your heart sinks thinking of how lonely Levi felt. How he was lacking basic needs.

"I called Kenny and he came and stayed with my mother during her last moments. I stood on the other side of her with my hand in hers. I remember her saying, 'Kenny, please take care of my Levi.' The pressure I was feeling from her hand suddenly just... disappeared. My mother's body was still there, but her soul was gone."

Tears start to well up in your eyes. Levi's eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke, his deep voice cracking when he spoke of the final moments with his mother.

"Then I went and lived with Kenny. Which... wasn't the best either. He fed me, but he wanted me to learn to fend for myself. I would cause fights in school and Kenny had to beg them to let me stay." Levi cleared his throat. "He didn't know how to be a parent. I don't blame him. His sister died and left behind me. My father, who the hell knows who he is - Kenny felt he had no choice. But he did have a choice. He could've just-"

"Levi, he could not just leave you."

"He could've."

"But he didn't. You're his nephew, I'm sure he saw you and saw some of himself."

"Well, when I turned 18, he left. He told me I was an adult now and I had to figure life out. I was being... well, to put it lightly, a delinquent when I met Erwin. He's a tall, well kept man and I wanted to steal from him. He looked like he had money so he was the perfect target. For whatever reason, he wanted to be my friend. He's been in my life ever since." Levi finally looked at you. "He opened his home to me. He fed me. He taught me the ways of being a business man."

You didn't know how deep Erwin and Levi's friendship was. They're bonded brothers.

His mother left, Kenny left - no wonder he likes to leave. Must be an Ackerman thing.

You stared into Levi's eyes - watching the storm brew. Your heart sank as you explored his face, your feelings for him resurfacing.

"Now you know why I am the way I am." Levi put his hands on his knees. "I don't blame you if you want to leave."

"Levi." You walk over to his chair, slowly sitting on his lap. "Do you want me to leave?" You gently wrap your arms around him.

"I think you want to -"

"Answer my question." You grab his chin, pulling his face towards you. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." Levi shook his head. "I never want you to leave."

You felt like there was life brought back to you. The piece of your heart that broke off when you left Levi mended back to you.

"We have to start over then." You caress his face gently. You wanted to just hold him during this vulnerable moment. "Like, we're going on dates. Almost like we were never together."

"Hm?" Levi tilted his head. "But we did date... for 2 years."

"Levi. Do you want to make this work or no?"

"I do."

"Then we're starting over. I don't want us to jump back into this and make the same mistakes."

Levi nods, letting his hand rest on your thigh. "Are you sure you don't want to leave? I'm giving you an out."

"Levi Ackerman." Theres attitude in your voice. "If I wanted to leave, I would. I have before - remember?"

"I'm sorry I made you leave."

"Shhh." You pull Levi into your chest, letting him lean on you. You felt his eyelashes flutter on your skin as he closed his eyes. His breath is slow and you know he's listening to your heartbeat. He's always loved cuddling in your chest and feeling your beating heart. Levi starts to bury his face in your breasts, his hands traveling up to your waist.

"Hey," You giggle as Levi grabs your left breast with his large hand. "Levi, this isn't the right time to be-"

"Sh." Levi demanded. His fingers pulled your shirt over your head, revealing your plump breasts. They bounced as they were released from the captivity of your shirt and Levi is mesmerized. He brought his lips to your right tit, sucking on your skin roughly as he squeezed the other. You throw your head back at the contact. Levi has always loved your chest and he likes to take his time there when he can.

"This isn't a part of starting over." You breathe.

"We can start over tomorrow." Levi mumbled as he unclipped your bra without looking. His mouth attached to your nipple, sucking it gently. You feel the wetness in your pants already as Levi sucks, bites, and licks all over your tits.

Levi sits you on the chair, his large hands trailing down your upper body to the buttons of your jeans. He's on his knees now as he pulls your pants off, throwing them across the room. "My favorites." Levi hums at the sight of your black lace panties. "Too bad they're coming off." Levi almost rips the panties off of you, revealing your soaked pussy.

He marvels for a moment, watching your arousal leak from you. You throw your head back as your core starts to throb. "Levi-" He cuts you off by inserting his tongue inside you. You gasp as you feel his tongue exploring your pussy, finding your clit soon after. Levi wraps his hands around your thighs as he devours you, his lips squelching against your core.

Levi wraps his lips around your clit, sucking gently as he inserts two fingers into you. You bury your hands in his hair, pushing his face farther into you. You felt him smile as you pulled on his hair, something he's always loved. He pumped his fingers in and out of you quickly while his mouth was solely focused on your clit.

"I could eat this pussy all day." Levi hummed, the vibration from his words only adding to your pleasure. "This pretty little pussy."

"Levi." You moan, wrapping your legs around him as your toes begin to curl.

"I love when you moan my name." His fingers started to pump faster as your walls began to pulsate. "Can you come on my fingers, princess?"

You nod silently as you feel the high quickly approaching. Your chest feels tight as the world begins to fade away, leaving only you and Levi. His tongue lapped your dripping arousal as you reached your high. Levi doesn't stop though, he keeps sucking on your clit until he wants to be done. You came on his fingers, his mouth - practically his entire face.

"Levi, I need you inside of me." You whine.

"You want my cock inside of you, my princess?"

"God, yes." You nod. Levi's mouth leaves your pussy and he picks you up and lays you on the couch gently. His shirt is off quickly, along with his belt and pants.

You watch his cock spring out of his pants. Every time you see it, you're mesmerized.

"Are you sure?"

"We'll start over tomorrow." You nod a Levi's arms are on either side of you. You feel the tip of his cock at your slit, easily sliding in due to your arousal. Levi lets out a husky moan as he feels your gummy walls wrapping around his cock.

"You were made for me." Levi starts thrusting into you. "This pussy fits me so perfectly."

"Baby, it's all yours." You stare into Levi's eyes. He presses his lips to yours roughly, leaving sloppy kisses as he thrusts inside you faster. You wrap your arms around his neck as he watches his length disappear inside of you, stretching your walls. You'll never get used to his size, no matter how many times you fuck.

"Princess, I need you to come again. Before me." Levi grunted as he slammed into you. He attaches his lips to the side of your neck, biting and sucking until your skin is purple. He then brings his fingers to your clit, rubbing it gently.

You throw your head back, feeling your walls pulsate once again. Levi's thrusts start to become uneven as he feels you grip him, which means he's close.

"I'm not coming before you." Levi rubs circles on your clit. Your toes curl as Levi is almost overstimulating you - but that high comes back.

"Levi." You practically yell as the hardest high of your life hits you. You see stars as Levi slams into you again and again.

"Where should I come?" Levi whispered.

"Inside." You whisper in his ear, which causes him to lose all the control he had left. He coats your insides with him as he comes, gripping your hips tightly. Levi fills you up with his cum and somehow there is still more.

Levi pulled out slowly and you whine at the now void. He pulls his pants on and grabbing a towel from his hallway closet and helping you clean up.

"So... tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow." You press your lips to his gently, letting your worries melt away.

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfic #attack on titan #aot #levi ackerman attack on titan

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iliektehhaxs · 3 months

Text

Y’know what I think I’m gonna elaborate on body worship with soap, because me personally? I need to give that man a long, long session all about him. I think he should be pampered like a princess ❤️

It was your idea to pamper Johnny, a sentiment he tried to fight against until he stepped foot into the water and almost immediately felt himself relax.

Your thumbs press into his upper arms, rubbing into the slickened skin as he complains once more, wishes it was your hand on his dick rather than his arms. No matter how much Johnny whines about his cock being untouched, you refuse to budge.

“Shut up,” you mutter, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. Johnny does the opposite, never one to keep his thoughts to himself.

“Make me then.”

His tongue peeks out between his teeth, licking at his lips hungrily. His neck cranes back, an open invitation. “Know yer interested, go ahead and sit that perfect pussy on my face and shut me up.”

Pure sin laces each syllable, your fingers stopping for a moment before starting to move again. It’s enough for Johnny to grin in delight. He knows his effect on you, delights in your wandering eyes—knows that he can wear down your shaky conviction with a few well-placed words.

“Just think about it bonnie,” he groans, hips grinding against nothing. “Been gone so long I’ve forgotten what she looks like—what she tastes like.”

His eyes are trained between your thighs. “Don’t leave a poor man starving aye?”

He makes it really fucking hard to say no, especially when you can see how hard he is through the loose boxers. As much as you want to take him up on his offer though, you ignore his attempts at seduction because this isn’t about that.

It could be, you think to yourself, but it’s more than just pleasure. If you wanted you could peel off his strained boxers, sit on his face while he fucks your throat like a toy, but that would diminish the entire point of having Johnny this relaxed, this pliable. You want to show your appreciation, want to treat your boyfriend to a night of fun that doesn’t end up with you on your back, even if he’s desperate to ruin your plans.

“Quit being a fucking brat and let me take care of you,” you laugh, splashing him with some water.

“Y’would be takin’ care of me plenty,” he sighs. “Being between your legs is like being at the pearly gates.”

A deep inhale, you ignore how his words make your body warm. Your fingers continue their massage, letting them map out the curves of his body, every dip and divot explored by your gentle hands. He squirms a bit whenever you trace a scar, the faintest blush painting his cheeks. You can only imagine the stories they’d tell if they could speak.

“I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

The words leave your lips abruptly, still mesmerized by the faded lines of his chest. You feel the rumble of his voice beneath your fingers.

“Could stand to tell me more,” he muses, but there’s a vulnerability in his tone, one that you often don’t see.

His walls are crumbling, and you take it as a sign to continue. It’s now that your fingers reach up and hold the sides of his head, thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks. You can tell your words have an effect on him, his eyes lidded with both lust and adoration—a look you’re certain is mirrored on your own face.

“I love you Johnny.”

A beat, his breath comes out shaky. “Love you too, bon.”

#robo writes #call of duty #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #again another bit of writing practice because I am going through #✨writers block✨

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livingemkayde · 7 months

Text

warning signs

boston!joel miller x f!reader | 3.8k

↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, oral m! and f!receiving, fingering, joel is emotionally distant because the world has gone to shit, violence (reader gets hit once by a FEDRA soldier), mentions of blood and wounds, angst!!!, no use of y/n. let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a/n: WADDUP PARTY PEOPLE!!! were back again with another post outbreak!joel miller one shot, horrible canva graphic done by yours truly, and a quiet obsession with this idea while i had covid.

so....this is a little different from my regular scheduled programming. i wanted to explore a different kind of writing style and i am really happy with how this came out. it made writing fun. thank you for all of your comments, reblogs, asks, etc. they truly do mean the world. IM JUST A GIRL WRITING HER HEART OUT SO THANK YOU.

↳ this one is dedicated to my long lost lover and biggest supporter, @joelsversion i love you bestie.

↳ follow @livingemkaydenotifs if you would like to be notified about more fics like this. as always, i love you so, so much.

↳ if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist

He deserves it all. You know that for certain. And they were all right about him, dangerous. But maybe they only spewed a half truth. Because yes, dangerous. But only because he shouldn't feel so good, shouldn't be so gentle, shouldn't call you baby, and angel, and sweetheart, and darlin’. You’ve been morphed into a daredevil by kisses and soft touches and two fingers notched inside your wanting cunt while his tongue slides over your bundle of nerves. If Joel Miller is dangerous, you're willing to risk it all.

“He’s not a good man.”

“You don’t know that,” you said, shaking your head.

“I know what he’s done. He’s — dangerous.”

“But does that make him a bad man?”

“It certainly doesn’t make him a good one.”

___

“Good morning,” you say, zipping up the front of your jacket, doubling the extra layer of warmth. It’s freezing today, and you’ve managed to fit both of your long sleeves under your coat.

You smile at him, like always. Almost practiced, almost rehearsed. And he always gives you a gruff nod, and says—

“Mornin’.”

“Cold out,” you acknowledge, following in stride, a stair behind him. Your boots slap down onto the wood but it only creaks under the weight of his body. He slumps down the steps, one big, heavy foot in front of the other. You notice how he waits for you to go first when you both round the corner.

He just grunts in response. He’s not rude, or mean. It’s just how he is. It’s what you’ve gotten used to. But there’s something different in his tone this time. The etches marked in his face right between his eyebrows are stronger and his lip quivers on the right side, shaking with an uncertainty that changes his entire face into something you’re not quite sure you’ve ever seen before. A face like he’s worried about something.

You both get to the bottom of the stairs, nearing the entrance to the building. This is the part where he goes his way and you go yours. You follow the sun’s path, towards your daily jobs, he goes towards the ration line, towards other Areas. It’s just how it is.

Until it isn’t.

You know him.

Well, that’s not to say much—everyone knows him. But you’ve had the lucky chance of actually meeting him. Not really knowing him. But you know who he is and the deep, dark, drawl of his voice.

If someone were to say, ‘Hey, you know Joel Miller, right?’

You’d honestly probably say no.

But that’s just because truly knowing Joel Miller comes with its consequences.

But you do know he always wears his green flannel when it’s a little chilly out. You know his mug broke and that he needed to borrow one of yours a couple days ago. And you can hear every time he opens his door. Whether he’s inviting someone in, or seeing someone out is a different story. A story you don’t care to find out.

And maybe that’s enough to know him—or so you thought.

You see him.

Everyday.

Same time.

Same place.

Whoever previously stayed in your apartment left an open unit for you to settle into when you first arrived in Boston three months ago. They’re probably dead now. You try not to think of that fact too often. You kept to yourself mostly. Almost a ‘speak when spoken to’ situation. You felt like you were back in Sunday school.

But then, when you had settled into your new routine, you saw him. Same time, same place, everyday.

You know Joel Miller leaves his apartment at 8:02 am. You figured it’s because he tells himself to be out the door by 8:00 am but doesn’t actually start leaving until the hour hand hits—just like you. You know that he prefers to take the back stairs, just like you. And you also know that he heads straight for the ration lines when the fresh air finally hits.

You like to watch him as he walks away, stalking in another direction, almost into a different world.

He barely speaks to you. Maybe less than two words per sighting. You’re not really looking for a thought provoking conversation, but a conversation might be nice.

Though, you can’t really focus on much besides how handsome you think he is. You even saw him smile once. His face turned kind of boyish. You had said something about needing coffee, desperately, and he actually smiled.

It almost felt like something normal.

Maybe in some sick and backwards way you thought you two were friends. But, in retrospect, that might’ve been silly. Because in reality, you can’t stop thinking about him. You wake up, having replaced your need for coffee by the thought of seeing him.

What’s he going to wear today?

Is he gonna look at you?

What’s he going to say? Something practiced? Something new?

You always hope for the latter.

You like how he scares people. How he can cut the radio comm line and the most anyone would dare say is garbled into a low and nonthreatening, there’s a line here. How he seems to put on a front, but in those fleeting minutes when you both walk in tandem down the back stairs, he doesn’t put it on. Not for you—not in front of you. You tried not to let that get to your head. But Joel Miller mixed with polite small talk, and good mornings, and you can’t help but feel special. So that stupid naive part of you thought that you knew him. You heard stories of him, sure. But decidedly, you don’t really know him. Not like that.

Because just as you give him a small smile and turn to walk off in the opposite direction, he grabs your arm.

It’s not hard or threatening. He’s surprisingly soft, almost gentle. His hand is so starkly warm—a living furnace. He pulls you back to the stairwell, you get so flustered that you trip over yourself, but he holds you up. He looks down at you, and he’s still got that worried look on his face masked by something eerily calm.

The hand on your bicep doesn’t move—even when you relax your arm. You wouldn’t dare speak. His presence sewed your mouth shut, one look and you’re a ghost. He looks you up and down, his eyes catching at your chest, your lips, your heated cheeks. Almost like it’s the first time he’s really seen you.

You highly doubt that though.

Did he notice when a firefly left your apartment in the dead of night?

Did he care that you ventured into the world of pleasure over good judgment?

You think he does.

“You need to be careful,” he drawls, finite, stern.

You let your eyes go big, your mouth parts. It’s the most this man has ever said to you, let alone touch you. You’ve never been this close to him. The air is so cold your breath puffs out in clouds. Your heels dig into the molding of the wall.

“Around Area 3,” he clarifies when you remain silent.

You can feel his hand push into the layers covering your arm. It seeps something sickly down to your bones. Even through the thickness of it, his hand is warm, and his grip is inviting.

He has big eyes. It’s really the only thing you can think about. You can only see Joel Miller’s big puppy dog eyes staring down at you. They’re black, pitch-dark. Maybe in the light they might be brown. You wonder if you'll ever see them look at you in any other way. You silently hope you will.

His grip tightens a fraction of an inch, pushing you back into the wall a little. Almost like he’s saying — do you hear me?

“Why?” you manage to squeak out.

“Just—” he huffs, maybe sighs, “—don’t get too close. It’s dangerous.”

It almost seems like he’s waiting for you to respond. To confirm that you hear him and that you understand. Acknowledge that you’ll at least try to be safe. Though you both know safety around these parts are few and far between.

And maybe you should be careful, because the most dangerous thing right now is that Joel Miller’s got you pinned to the wall. Where no one can see either of you. Or hear the darkened drawl whispering off his scruff into a white cloud. But you’re not really scared, and you silently think you should be.

Dangerous—everyone had said to you when you first got here. He’s fucking dangerous. But how can dangerous be spelled out into something kind? How can dangerous look like he doesn’t ever want to let you go?

“Okay,” you say, breathless. He releases your arm, it leaves its mark burned into you. He backs away from you with his eyes studying yours. You don’t move, and he nods towards the exit.

____

Joel was right. About Area 3.

A day later, you’re walking to the ration lines and you can hear the trucks rolling through. You pick up your speed, put your head down, and try to walk a little faster.

“Miss?”

Shit.

You’re almost there. Just a couple more blocks.

“Miss, you can’t be out here,” it calls out again. You don’t recognize the voice—you keep walking.

“Hey!” he says, pulling at your arm. You fight away, but he hits you across the face and you fall, clutching your cheek with a cold palm. The sting is dulled, your vision wobbles a little and you begin to taste something metallically and familiar looming against the inside of your cheek.

“You fuckin’ deaf?” the soldier says, picking you up roughly by an arm. He’s not warm. Or soft. Or surprisingly gentle.

“Fuck off,” you bite back, standing, pushing out of his grip, and shaking your jacket of the dust. It flutters off you like soot while you stumble back onto the curb.

“I said—go—” the soldier grabs at his gun slung lazily over his shoulder, “—home.”

“I need to get to the lines,” you say, making a move towards your original direction. He grabs you again, and your head hits the brick wall behind you with a thunk.

“We’re under curfew,” he growls. The safety of his rifle notched under a gloved finger unlatches with a click. The front of the barrel comes up to kiss your forehead. “Last chance.”

You hear your name get called from down the street and freeze, silently cursing to yourself. A fast approaching voice accompanies your beating heart. It snakes around your lungs and gives you a good squeeze.

“I got her, Davis,” Joel says, pushing the soldier’s body away from you, wedging himself, etched with a stern look, between you and Davis. The gun now sits soundly against Joel’s chest. The part of your forehead that kissed the metal aches.

“Get outta here, Miller,” he warns, shaking his head, like Joel should know better, like Joel should be smarter, like Joel shouldn't be risking everything for you. But he doesn’t move. He pushes the soldier back with a stern palm on the front of his bullet proof vest. Davis stumbles a little, backing away, his feet falling off the curb and onto the dirty street.

“I got her.”

A tense couple beats. You pick at the skin of your pointer finger, running your nail over the ridge of your knuckles. You can hear more trucks barreling down the streets as you wait. Your lungs haven’t been reprieved of their tightness yet.

“Don’t fuck with me,” Davis shakes his head, pushing away from Joel’s hand. You watch silently over his shoulder.

“‘M not.”

“Go home,” Davis warns under his breath, looking around the street for any signs of life, “don’t— fucking come out until morning.”

“Yeah,” Joel breathes out, “alright.”

“I mean it,” he says, “and keep her locked in,” he points a warning finger over Joel's shoulder at you. “They see you, it's on sight.”

“We're good,” Joel says, shielding your body from Davis, like your own bullet proof vest. Armor. A personal chest plate and helmet and knee pads combined into one man. Maybe that’s what should feel dangerous—that you feel so safe between Joel Miller and a brick wall where all you can do is watch in earnest.

“And I want double — next time,” Davis adds, latching the safety of his gun back on and straightening out his vest.

“Just get outta here,” Joel says, backing away towards the apartment. You follow him. The soldier goes the opposite direction.

___

Your hands are shaking.

They’re shaking as you close the door, and forget to lock it. They’re fucking shaking when you slip out of your jacket and unsheath the knife from your waistband.

You can see your right hand, coming up as if an instinct to touch your cheek, the redness on your fingertips are the only indication you need. You try to rub the pads of your fingers together to erase the evidence of damage. But it doesn’t disappear. It never does.

“Shit,” you mumble. Your fucking cheek hurts.

He’s so quiet. He doesn’t even knock, just slips into your apartment. You only hear him shut the door with a click and you spin around, grabbing at the knife left strewn on the table. Your hands fumble on the handle.

“What’re you…”

Joel gestures to something in his hand, then towards the fast forming bruise on your cheekbone. You drop the knife on the table.

“Ice,” he says in that southern drawl that pulls on that place between your thighs.

You suddenly don’t care about the cut on your cheek, or the blood or the bruises. He takes in your apartment, noting each and every thing that makes you so starkly different from him. How you put up curtains, a table cloth you found in some antique shop before arriving in Boston, canned food that you’ve been saving.

“You didn’t have to—” you say, nodding towards the window, towards outside. Then towards your cheek, the black and blue littered there.

You didn’t have to do any of it.

“You okay?” is all he says in reply.

“Yeah. Thank you.”

“I —” he shakes his head, “—I’m sorry.”

“You warned me,” you huff out through a lazy kind of laugh. He doesn’t even smile. But you want him to. You want to see the way it transformed his face. The things you would do to see his lips pull and maybe, just maybe, you’d give anything to hear him laugh.

“Still,” he mumbles, finally looking at your eyes instead of your cheek.

He’s not a good man.

You think to yourself that he is.

“You’re dripping,” you say, nodding towards his hand clutching onto the ice leaving behind a small puddle seeping through his knuckles. The drops fall in tune with a second hand ticking away against the face of a clock.

He looks down, but doesn’t say anything, just stalks towards you, tentatively. Like you’re a scared, jumpy cat he’s trying to approach. You sit back against the table and dig your nails into the wood.

“I should’ve…” he whispers, nearing your legs outstretched towards him, “should’ve killed him,” his eyes flick to your cheek, “for what he did.”

You shake your head at his words. You silently think to yourself maybe that’s the only thing he knows for certain—the only thing he knows how to do. To get his hands dirty for someone he cares about, so that the blood won’t ever come off his soiled palms. Like your fingertips, like the bed of your nails.

He huffs a long sigh, you look into his eyes for anything but wind up empty handed.

The ice bites into your open palms. He rustles with it before placing the little pack into your fingers, his, all encompassing and brushing over yours and turning them ice cold and burning hot at the same time. He’s close, and he keeps staring at your lips when he’s not occupied with your cheek.

Dangerous smells like pine and musk and dangerous has got you wrapped around his finger.

“Joel,” you whimper.

He shakes his head, “Don’t.”

Don’t say his name, not like that. And don’t make those breathy sounds and certainly don’t look at him like that. Because it’s been way too long for him and you’re too good and he is too fucking bad.

So you don’t say anything. But you pull him closer against your body, wedged between something scary and something soft and sweet, tipping on the edge. One foot on either side of the thin line.

He just sighs, pushes out a heavy breath, trying to contain himself. Like he can’t believe this is really happening, despite everyone’s better judgment. Despite his own.

“I—” his voice quivers, he almost shakes his head, but it just pulls you two closer together.

“You don’t want to?” you whimper, entranced by the way his breath punches on top of your nose. You think if you dragged your lips down his chest you would be able to feel his steady heartbeat.

“‘S been a while,” he admits through ragged whispered breaths.

“But do you…?” you question, placing your hands on his forearms, pulling him impossibly close until he’s slotted between your open legs. The ice is abandoned on the table to melt with your discernment.

He nods and gives you a certain look—’course I do. His lip pulls a little, looking down suddenly towards your chest. Pleading with himself.

A losing battle.

Maybe he thinks he isn’t worthy.

You pull him forward, kiss him, throw your arms around his shoulders and he picks you up off the table at that, finding your bedroom through the mess.

You’re convinced that he is.

___

As it turns out, dangerous feels fucking amazing. It tastes like something oddly sweet. It definitely shouldn't feel as good as it does. It shouldn’t be sweet nothings, and grunting, pleading whispers wrapped around a heady background tune.

“Joel,” you moan. This time he doesn’t stop you, “—fuck,” you whimper, tangling your face into the sheets, dragging his hands over your body.

You kiss his neck, his pulse strums as strong as you thought it might be.

“Darlin’, I—” he grunts softly, “—are you sure—”

“Yes,” you puff out, “yes, I — yes.”

You want to give him things. You want to be the softness for him to come back to in those early mornings and those late nights. You want it all, you want it with him. You want him to be gentle like you know he can—relax in the way he never does because he pleads with himself that he shouldn't.

He deserves it all.

You know that for certain.

And they were all right about him, dangerous.

But maybe they only spewed a half truth. Because yes, dangerous. But only because he shouldn't feel so good, shouldn't be so gentle, shouldn't call you baby, and angel, and sweetheart, and darlin’.

You’ve been morphed into a daredevil by kisses and soft touches and two fingers notched inside your wanting cunt while his tongue slides over your bundle of nerves.

If Joel Miller is dangerous, you're willing to risk it all.

“Fuck—Oh my—god, Joel—” you whine and pull at the curls at the base of his neck.

“Taste so good, angel,” he whispers against your cunt, quickening his pace, a man starved.

You push out something sounding close to his name. He looks wrecked, you know you probably look worse. His fingers crook somewhere deep inside you, you garble out something coherent only to your mind. You’re sensitive, but he’s gentle. The firefly didn’t do this, you didn’t even ask him to.

Your name is something broken on his lips, burying his tongue deep into your cunt, tasting you, lapping up your wetness smeared across the inside of your thighs. The ceiling might be spinning, but you’re too fucked out to care. For an out of practice man, Joel Miller seems to be an expert—like riding a bike. His mouth is warm and soft and gentle and he keeps going until you have to push his head away.

He says those fucking words again, something desperate behind his pleading eyes.

“‘S been a while.”

You don’t acknowledge them, just push him back, until he's sitting at the edge of the bed, running your hands across his chest.

“Sweetheart…” he says, a feeble attempt to stop you.

“Relax,” you laugh a little, running your hands down to his belt, the tell tale sound of the metal clinking makes you slither your way down to kneel, until your face—your mouth, is perfectly, lazily hung over the bulge in his pants.

“You don’t—fuck—don’t have to,” he groans, tangling his fingers in your hair. You almost whimper, everything threatening to boil over when he cups your face, pushing his thumb tenderly into your uninjured cheek.

“I want to,” you whimper.

He almost looks pained.

Your hands find the button and the zipper, and pull it down as you reach forward to kiss him. He moans into your mouth, already hard just from your featherlight touches. When you pull him out of his boxers, the hand on your cheek reaches around to grasp your jaw, angling your head to look up at him.

He breaks the kiss, you wrap your hand around him experimentally.

“Fuck—” he groans, and his eyes flutter shut. You try to move your lips down towards his length, but he keeps you there, looking at him.

“‘M not gonna last,” he whispers.

You whimper at the prospect.

“It’s okay,” you whisper back.

It’s a shame. You realize. That it’s been a while for him. You want him to feel good. You want him to feel better. He doesn’t think he’s a good man. He doesn’t think he’s good enough for you.

You know that he is.

He removes his hand.

You take him into your mouth.

“F-fuck—” he groans, locking his hand back into your hair. You swirl your tongue over the head of his cock and he throws his head back, looking up at the ceiling for something to focus on.

“Baby—I—” he pants, his fingers bury into your roots and lock onto your bed sheets beneath him. His desperate breath shoots right to your core. You’re no doubt dripping with need when he accidentally grinds his hips into your mouth.

“Shit—” he sits forward a little, taking your head between his two big palms, “‘M sorry, darlin’—”

You cut him off, his words are swallowed with his own grit. You take him deeper, adding your hand to the parts you can’t quite reach.

“Good?” you say, lapping at the underside of his cock before taking him in your mouth again.

“Yeah,” he groans, “yeah, fuckin’—good.”

Your mouth fits tight around the base of his cock. He swallows back moans. His hands become desperate, like his panting breath and his fucked out expression.

He spills into your throat, pushing his hips up into your mouth until you choke on him. He tastes like desperate gasps, stolen glances, good mornings, goodnights, and be carefuls. His eyes look lighter, like you thought they’d be in the sunlight.

You pull yourself off of his cock, resting your head on his thigh, sitting back on your heels so you can look up at him. His fingers are still rooted in your hair. It’s silent for a few short moments. You can still taste him on your tongue. His hand runs across the top of your head, and down to your shoulders and settles to rest on the outside of your throat.

And you laugh.

And he smiles.

___

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