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forbidden-sunlight · 3 months

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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], obsessive behavior, implied violence, implied emotional and physical abuse, implied brainwashing, knowledge based on spoilers from the first two episodes of the 2024 series.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own Internet consumption!

Hey guys, welcome back to another Hazbin Hotel fic, starring Hell's one and only Radio Demon, Alastor! This is a collaborative piece written with @isuckatwritingsobenice, whom I share a mutual adoration for Violet Evergarden, the anime and titular character who is in my humble opinion, one of the best written female protagonists I have seen in anime.

As always, bullying is not tolerated here. If you have nothing nice to say, please do not say it. Furthermore, if you believe the warnings listed above will make you uncomfortable, please leave now.

For those who have decided to stay, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going for tonight's broadcast :)

Alastor is someone who thrives on entertainment and chaos. Seeing the scourge of Hell striving to redeem themselves in Charlie’s hotel, only to fail as soon as they gave into the vices they’ve been trying to cure themselves of? That’s the only reason he agreed to help the princess with her passion project. He needed some inspiration after lacking it for so many decades!

When you had arrived at the hotel with nothing except the clothes on your back and a suitcase that protected your precious Remington typewriter, the Radio Demon would not deny that he was amused to see a sinner who actually saw his advertisement on the television. After all, no one was taking Charlie seriously, and who would? Apparently you did, but for a different reason: you were looking for a job, a purpose. You said so in the interview, and you were willing to learn. When Vagatha asked what would be considered a flaw in your work ethic, you took off your leather gloves and showed her and Charlie the alloy prosthetics that acted as your new limbs after losing them in the war.

Why you still had them and why your appearance was wholly human, you did not know. Would this be considered a flaw? You were not sure either. You are still learning about modern technology, especially the handheld devices called cell phones.

Although the staff was in dire need of someone who could advertise the Hazbin Hotel on the Internet, the princess found something you could do and might be adequate at: gardening. More specifically, being the hotel’s groundskeeper. Someone who can maintain the hotel’s outward appearance and make sure the hell-grass or weeds don’t get too out of control. You stood up from your seat, feet planted together and saluted Charlie, promising that you will do your best in a monotone voice.

The poor dear did get a little flustered from your actions, but Vagatha did not seem to mind, asking you to follow her upstairs so that she could show you your new room and give you the key. Your first day will be tomorrow.

Oh, this will be fun~! Alastor thought with a wide grin. Someone new to antagonize and watch fall into the fiery pits of failure! Husk was starting to bore him anyway.

And he was not disappointed.

He saw you struggle with holding a garden spade, laying down carpets of fresh grass neatly without trying to crush it between your prosthetic limbs, carrying fertilizer and what flowers to plant! These entertaining events happened within the first week of being here. Is he sorry that his shadows purposely swapped the fertilizer bags and replaced the seed bags to plant roses with rat bait? Absolutely not!

The more chaos that he created, the more entertained he will be. The anticipation to see you crumble from the pressure and expectations of dear Vagatha and Charlie is almost palpable, he couldn’t wait!

However, you were not someone who gave up as easily as he hoped you would.

You kept showing up every day at the exact time, and worked in the garden until Niffty had to drag you inside to have lunch. Then you stayed outside for a bit longer, making sure everything was ready for the following day. You even tried to help out in the kitchen, though you were still struggling to properly hold a knife and chop up vegetables for his jambalaya or cracking eggs in a bowl to help Niffty bake a cake at nine o’clock in the evening because she was bored and wanted something sweet.

You carried heavy crates of liquor for Husk and even massaged his temples when he complained of a headache. When you discreetly switched out the liquor in his booze for water one time he held a grudge against you for pulling that stunt for almost a week. He eventually forgave you by preparing a Shirley Temple on the house after you politely rejected a whiskey on the rocks because you did not drink alcohol.

Sir Pentious, the wannabe overlord, was utterly fascinated with your prosthetic limbs and had asked you to let him examine them. That comment earned him a low, menacing growl from Vagatha, spear in hand. The Egg Bois seemed to like you well enough that they tried to help you out in the garden when all they really did was make your job a bit harder. You still thanked them anyway.

Angel Dust tried to take you shopping for a new wardrobe since you always wore the same outfit every day, but his definition of fashion bordered on risque and flaunting his assets. You were not here to flaunt your appearance, you were here to work, but you thanked him anyway. When he came back to the hotel, staggering inside on wobbly legs and his face covered in black-blue bruises, you were the one who caught him and helped him settle on a table as Husk pulled out a first aid kit. You allowed Angel to put all four of his arms around you and cry on your shoulders, carefully placing your skeletal prosthetics around his back.

How is it that a single sinner could empathize with everyone here except him?

This singular thought, this curious idea, is what motivated Alastor to find out more about you. And there is no else in Hell who can spill the tea on someone as accurately as his dear friend Rosie.

A trip to Cannibal Colony was in order~! So he did go there, proclaiming he’ll be back before dinner and ignoring Vagatha’s cursing as well as the princess trying to calm down her short-tempered lover.

As it turned out, he had heard about you, it’s just that the topic in question did not interest him at the time. Rosie conjured up some old newspaper clippings, pointing at the image of you fighting against an exorcist in hand-to-hand combat during the Extermination. This article had been written five years ago, and the one before that? Three years ago. It seemed like you were simply at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you fought back because that is what your life had been before; surrounded by violence, vanquishing enemy forces when they crossed your path. Yet when you did make an appearance, everyone in Hell clamored for any scraps of information. Anything to find out who is the mysterious sinner who looked like a human and could rip off an exorcist’s head bare-handed.

Now, you were staying at the hotel trying to put whatever remained of your afterlife together. That is your true purpose and now the Radio Demon knew.

Alastor thanked Rosie for the information and the company, leaving Cannibal Colony in a merry mood. Everything was in place. Everything made perfect sense now.

If you were looking for a way to be useful in his newest project, he can make that happen. All he needs to do is nudge you in the right direction without Charlie and Vagatha around.

They are adorable when they are taking turns being a guard dog around you, you sweet little darling~.

Taglist

@chroniccorvus

@imperfectbloodmoon

@doc-tooth

@nixie-writes

@riddle-simp

@tired-of-life-86

@blackmageoffandoms

If you would like to be tagged in future yandere hazbin x reader fics, please comment on this post here. If you do not comment, then you will not be added on the taglist.

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saraswritingtipps · 6 months

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Crafting Compelling Villains

1. The "Evil for the Sake of Being Evil" Villain:

This type of villain lacks depth and clear motivations. They simply exist to be wicked and cause chaos without any believable reason or backstory.

2. The One-Dimensional Bully:

This villain is characterized solely by their physical strength or intimidating presence. They lack complexity, depth, and fail to challenge the protagonist on an intellectual or emotional level.

3. The Overpowered and Unbeatable Villain:

This villain is excessively powerful with no apparent weaknesses or vulnerabilities. They pose no real threat to the protagonist, as their defeat seems implausible or impossible.

4. The Expository Villain:

This villain constantly explains their evil plans and motivations without any subtlety or nuance. Their dialogues become monotonous and predictable, diminishing the impact of their character.

5. T The Forgettable Villain:

This villain lacks distinct traits, memorable characteristics, or a unique presence. They fail to leave a lasting impression on readers and are easily overshadowed by other elements of the story

6. The Plot Device Villain:

This villain exists solely to advance the plot without any independent goals or desires. They lack agency and depth, merely serving as a convenient obstacle for the protagonist to overcome.

7. The Unrelatable Monster:

This villain is completely devoid of humanity or relatable qualities. They are monstrous in every sense, lacking any redeeming or understandable characteristics that could engage the audience emotionally.

8. The Placeholder Villain:

This villain is introduced briefly and abruptly, without any significant development or impact on the story. They serve as a mere distraction or temporary obstacle, leaving readers feeling unsatisfied.

9. The Inconsistent Motivations:

This villain's motivations and actions are erratic and inconsistent, making it difficult for readers to understand their choices. Their lack of clear direction undermines the credibility and coherence of their character.

#writing #writer on tumblr #writerscommunity #writing tips #character development #writer tumblr #writblr #writing advice #oc character #writing help #writing villains #write villain

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ohdeerfully · 26 days

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Spoilers ahead for the final episode!

Imagine reader being a healer for others but is cursed to not being able to heal themselves.

Like during the final battle, their skills are heavily relied on while they also fight along side them. Afterwards they rush to find their lover Alastor to heal the wound on his abdomen. Poor thing was so worried about healing him that they forgot about patching up themselves.

hello everybody im alive........... hello hold your applause /j

i got two very similar requests so i combined them into one! hope thats alright with the two anons! hugs and kisses

Stitches

alastor x reader (fluff) TW: nothing serious, just some briefly graphic(ish) descriptions of violence/gore, reader referred to as female but doesnt influence plot

join my discord!

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It was supposed to be “no big deal” for him; that’s what he had promised you. You worried, of course, but knew better than to pester and beg for him to change his mind. Plus… of all demons to hold back Adam, Alastor seemed like the most capable. You had to trust him. He promised.

You were in the midst of slaying an Exterminator of your own, cutting it down with a sword lined in angelic steel, but you couldn’t help that your train of thought kept returning to the Radio Demon, who was currently on the roof of the Hotel maintaining a forcefield that prevented more angels from joining the battle.

You allowed your eyes to glimpse up towards said roof even though you knew it’d be impossible to see him from your position on the ground. You had looked just in time, however, to see the shield that surrounded the battleground begin to dissolve, an opening blooming around the figure of Adam.

A sickly cold feeling of dread churned down your spine and into your stomach, but you forced yourself to stay focused. Alastor would be fine, surely. It’s not like he said it was an invincible shield. You had other things to worry about, anyway, when you realized a wasp-like swarm of Exterminators had made their way in from the dissolving forcefield, their glittering white wings and shining angelic weapons molding together in a blur.

You fought along a small group of demons from Cannibal Town, providing aid and healing when possible. It seemed to go on for hours; stab an angel, tear one away from a companion, heal, stab, save, heal… it somehow began to feel monotonous and repetitive. Your whole body stung, littered with wounds ranging in extremity, but you couldn’t stop. Not if you were going to win this thing.

That monotony was broken when the chaos halted for a brief moment—not even a second. You had seen Charlie looking up in… fear? Shock? So, you looked, and your breath hitched. It took you a moment to process.

Why was Adam flying above, looming, grinning, analyzing… Why, when Alastor was supposed to be keeping him occupied? The immediate answer that came to mind brought back that sickening feeling from earlier, but increased a hundredfold. It seemed that Charlie also had a similar idea.

You couldn’t ignore the feeling this time and, against your better judgment, took off towards the crumbling Hotel, abandoning your position as healer. They could wait, honestly. The pounding in your ears and anxiety in your body clouded the sensation of angelic spears grazing past you, filling your already burdened body with more gashes.

You were halted by a powerful beat of wings, wind pushing you backwards onto your back. You scrambled into a sitting position, leaning on your arms. All of the aching, stinging pain from the night seemed to rush in all at once because of the interruption, and you could barely keep your eyes steady on the man in front of you.

The first man, at that—standing all too high-and-mighty above you, a twisted grin curling up his mask.

“Hey, bitch,” He said almost casually, grabbing you by the hair and lifting you up to be eye level with him. You stifled a pained cry at the sensation, though your eyes filled with tears, betraying both your fear and pain. You hated yourself for looking so weak in front of Adam, but you were almost too exhausted to mask it.

“The fuck did you do to Alastor?” You talked through a mouthful of blood. You spat some out in his face, to which the grip on your head tightened but he seemed otherwise unbothered. You did see a glint of madness in his eyes, though.

“So you’re that fine babe of his?” Adam mocked, looking up and down tastelessly. You didn’t expect much more from the ‘dickmaster’ but you couldn’t help but feel disgusted. “Satan’s daughter told me all about you when she was trying to tell me you gross fucks could be redeemed.”

He started rambling out a multitude of insults and curses. It seemed fitting, you thought, that the stuck-up first man would be too full of himself to keep his guard up and just start going off on a tangent about how cool and awesome he is versus how gross and weak your kind is.

“I mean, the fuck? You all sucked ass at being alive, so why the shit would we let you up into heaven? And, quite frankly, too fucking ugly to live up th—” He choked on the last few words he had, his eyes widening in shock and pain. He dropped you to the ground.

During his rant you had managed to use your heel to kick up a stray spear from beneath you. His tirade had given you enough time to balance the weapon between your feet, aim, and jam it forward into his stomach. The robe he wore darkened, glistening gold seeping into the fabric and from the hole you punctured into him.

“You–” He spat, hovering his shaking hands around the impaled spear. He gingerly pressed a hand against the wound, lifting his bloody palm to his face to look at the mess. He looked up, down, up again, and took a quivering step towards you. There were a million expressions in his eyes all at once; rage, fear, pain, disgust…

“You fucking bitch,” He took another step, reached a hand out towards you. “You can’t kill me! Nobody can kill Adam! You’re just a worthless, sick, good-for-nothing sinner that couldn’t—fuck!” He stumbled and fell forward, and you jerked away as his fist nearly closed around the hem of your shirt. As much as you hated the guy and wanted him dead, you still cringed at the sight of him falling onto the spear and impaling it completely through his body.

You heard a distant cry of his name, but you didn’t hesitate to see who it was. You took off into the hotel, albeit slowed by a painful limp, and made your way up the stairs towards the radio tower.

There was an ominous feeling in the air as you ascended the ladder into the nearly demolished tower, slowly opening the hatch into the room. An intense, static-y feeling smothered your senses, hair raising and skin prickling at the sensation. You ignored the uncomfortable feeling and peered around the dark room.

Claw marks and a trail of blood caught your attention, leading your eyes towards a corner where the demon you wanted to see most sat against. He had been wordlessly watching you with glowing red eyes since you entered.

“Al,” You said almost breathlessly as you rushed forward, ignoring the way your leg shot pain throughout your body in protest. You fell gracelessly to your knees in front of him.

“I don’t want you here,” He said rather plainly, a hiss in his voice as he spoke through his teeth and a grimace of a smile. You ignored the comment, eyes traveling over his body before settling on his palm, which was pressed against his abdomen. There was a still-growing patch of dark blood seeping through his shirt and between his fingers.

You reached your hand out towards him, flinched to a halt for a moment when his claws tightened around the fabric of his shirt, but continued. He made no move otherwise to stop you, but you could feel the tension in the air growing as the static ambience got louder.

“I can take care of myself,” He said, his other hand suddenly snatching your wrist. His grin widened, but his eyes narrowed. You frowned at him.

“Yeah, but it’d be a lot easier for me to just fix you now,” You retorted, trying to jerk your hand away from his grip. He didn’t yield. “If you stop being so damn stubborn.”

“I’ve dealt with much worse, my dear,” He continued to convince you to leave him alone, his voice smooth with that manipulatively suave voice he put on sometimes. Unluckily for him, though, you were just as stubborn as him.

“But I’m here this time to help you,” You finally managed to free your wrist from him, your sharp expression unwavering from his own, which seemed equally aggravated. Maybe he was too weak to actually stop you, or maybe he actually did want your help and just wouldn’t admit it, but he didn’t stop you from lifting his bloodied hand from his wound.

You pursed your lips at the grizzly sight, but said nothing. You ignored the stinging smell of blood that flooded your nose. You hovered your hands over the wound, channeling the energy in your body that granted you the ability to rapidly heal others. A faint light flowed from your palm and into the gash across Alastor’s torso, forming glowing stitches that weaved throughout the damaged skin.

Periodically glancing up at his face as you worked, you watched for any sign that told you to stop, but it never came. He stayed silent the whole time, which was… rare, from him. You would never admit this out loud, but Alastor seemed almost… pitiful, in this silent, weakened state. The Radio Demon himself, reduced to a bloodied, passive husk of himself.

After healing so many demons during the battle outside, you had spent so much energy. You were already so weak and exhausted, but you pushed yourself to force just a bit more—

“There,” With a weak sigh, you sat back, admiring your own handiwork. Even though it was magic, it did take some mental ability to know how to use your power. “Was that so hard?” You chided him jokingly.

He gingerly drug a clawed finger down the stitches, analyzing it for himself.

“I have to admit,” He began, looking up at you. “It would have been nice to have you in my early years as— dear?”

You barely heard what he was saying as all of your senses seemed to get foggy all at once. Your vision blurred and speckled, you ears felt muffled, and you swayed with lightheadedness. You pressed a hand to your face, trying to steady your breath.

“I’m good,” Your voice came out in a quiver. “I think I just—”

You don’t necessarily even remember fainting, but reason that you must have as you stared at the ceiling above you. You woke up ten minutes ago, and spent the time piecing together everything that happened. How much time has passed since then? A couple hours? Days? It was hard to say. Though, you thought as you looked around. The hotel looks… damn good all things considered.

The door creaked open and your ears perked at the sound of a familiar voice humming some tune that you couldn’t recognize. Considering the atmosphere wasn’t tense, you actually welcomed the prickling, static-like sensation that Alastor’s presence brought.

“Ah, the sleeping beauty awakes!” He announced pleasantly, setting a plate rattling with two neat little glasses of warm liquid on the bedside table. You eyed them and quirked your eyebrow.

“Seems you were ready for it,” You said, commenting on the fact that he brought two cups.

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I wasn’t au fait to my darling’s status?” He explained, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning over you. He would never admit that he brought up two cups every time he checked on you just in case.

His overall demeanor seemed appropriately confident and indifferent, but his eyes held an uncharacteristic look of tenderness and worry as he looked over you, analyzing your condition. He sat at the edge of the bed, picking that plate up again and offering you a cup.

You sat up against the headboard and took it with a light smile, warming your hands on the smooth surface. You enjoyed the aroma of the tea, and you realized it was your favorite. How sweet.

The room was silent, save for the quiet sound of a radio that seemed to just… radiate from him… but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Now that you were sitting up, you took the chance to look down and over yourself. Bandages were wrapped tightly over your arms, chest, stomach, legs… basically everywhere. You were suddenly all too aware of the dull ache that afflicted your entire body.

When you looked up, you noticed Alastor had been looking at you rather intensely. His expression was weird and unreadable. You tightened your lips awkwardly at the strangely passionate look in his eyes, looking into random directions to try to ignore it. You tried to concentrate on taking another sip from the cup in your hand, bu, to your dismay, it was already empty. You sat it down on the plate.

“How’s my stitchwork holding up?” In an attempt to dissipate your own awkwardness, you reached towards his abdomen. He caught your hand gently, directing it away from himself. But he didn’t let go.

“No doctor in all of Hell could have done better,” He complimented. He still had a hint of that weird expression. “If only you could fix yourself up the same. Fortunately I have some experience from my time alive…” He trailed off.

You couldn’t contain yourself anymore, jumping forward and tightening your arms around his neck. The static in the air sharpened for a brief second, matching the tenseness in his body, but slowly returned to a normal frequency. After a few more seconds, you felt him slide his own arms around your waist, pressing you against himself.

“You scared the fuckin’ shit out of me,” You said, voice muffled by his coat. “I thought Adam killed you. I thought I was going to find your body buried under the rubble.”

“So you avenged me by killing Adam yourself? I appreciate it,” He remarked lightly, a slight chuckle rumbling from his chest. His voice was low, breath tickling your ear as he held you with a feather-light but somehow still firm grip.

Alastor was quiet for another moment, and you realized the static in the air had completely dissipated. You also realized the pressure of his arms wrapped around you was getting increasingly tighter.

“You worried me as well,” He said finally. “You were out like a hibernating bear for days. You worried everyone.” You pulled your head out from the crook of his neck and met his gaze.

“Can’t a gal get her beauty rest?” You joked softly, bumping your shoulder against him playfully. He swayed for a moment at the contact, but the eye contact never broke. Wait, was he getting closer?

Instinctually your eyes closed, and the briefest kiss was placed on your lips, then your nose, then your forehead. Before you could open your eyes, Alastor placed his hand on your head and pressed you back against his chest. He then began rubbing his hand gently on your back in a soothing motion.

Despite being in bed for apparently days, you still felt tired. You sank into him as his claws drug gentle shapes against your skin, careful to avoid bandaged spots. He hummed a quiet tune, and you noticed his microphone of a cane, which was laying against the bedside table, emitted an accompanying song.

“Maybe redemption isn’t all that,” You commented with a sigh, lazily picking at the hem of Alastor’s collar.

“Hmm?” He prompted you to continue.

“Is Hell really so bad if you’re with your favorite soul?” It felt corny to say, but you couldn't really find a better way to phrase it. Plus, you couldn't take this rare moment of tenderness for granted.

His hand paused for a moment, and he gently squeezed your arm in response. You felt him press another light kiss to the top of your head.

“I know, now,” He finally replied. “Just the feeling.”

#ohdeerfully #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #alastor x you #oh my god yall #writers block... my number 1 enemy of all time #hazbin hotel spoilers #sort of

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jiniret-writings · 8 months

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Warm Blankets Pt. 2

Genre: angst, fluff

Pairing: Platonic!ot8 x 9th member!reader

Warnings: self-doubt, feelings of worthlessness

The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.

Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3

After buying snacks (and your favorite drink because crying really does numbers on your hydration), you headed back to your dorm and the minute you opened the door, you were met with quite the scene. The entire place looked like a scene from Alice in Wonderland: chaos in the kitchen, chaos in the living room, and something sounded like it crashed in the bathroom, but over it all, the dorm smelled delicious.

When you two walked deeper into the dorm, Minho was the first to look up from what looked like beating eggs. "Hungry?" he asked, pouring the egg mixture onto the pan. Truth was, you were starving. You'd skipped breakfast that day because of an early vocal lesson. Your stomach rumbled low enough for Hyunjin to hear who laughed lightly.

"I think we both are," he said, nudging you in more. Then, like a switch flipped, Hyunjin whined, "Hyuuuuuung! When will it be readyyyyy?" He flopped onto the island seat and laid his head on the counter, watching Minho cook. Minho glared at his younger member, picking up the spatula.

"When you're done cooking in the air fryer," he said in a monotone voice, flashing a Cheshire smile before dropping it and going back to the eggs. You laughed at them, sitting next to Hyunjin and across from Felix. Chan's words still circled your head.

It felt heavy, your head and your heart burdened with the hit of his words and the weight of your thoughts. It had been five years since Stray Kids debuted, yet the whispers never stopped. Comments circled online every month or so about whether you really fit into the group:

I don't know, it's just that the group might thrive more if it weren't for them.

Have you seen the new talker? See how they're off to the side most of the time? They're definitely going to leave the group soon.

I trust Chan and all but I don't know if he was right about them.

It was normal to get hate as an idol but maybe, just maybe, they were right? Hyunjin had reassured you that you were wanted and he was just saying whatever came to mind in his stressed state but, but maybe there were some truth to his words.

As thoughts raced through your head, you stared blankly at the counter. The boys around you looked at you worriedly, giving Hyunjin a look with one question: what happened? He hadn't told them why you had a bad day or what was wrong, but they still rallied to give you warmth and comfort. But you were worrying them. They just wanted the best for you and to do whatever it took to cheer you up.

Wanting to pull you from your thoughts as soon as possible, Hyunjin texted them the short version:

Chan-hyung said he shouldn't have fought for them to be in the group. 2RACHA are on placating duty.

With that sent, Hyunjin put his arm around you to not scare you, but the second you snapped out of your personal trance, Felix ran at you and tackled you to the ground. The little attack came as a surprise to everyone around, leaving them all frozen. The only sound being Felix's "lixie" sounds.

You were shocked as well, arms coming around the slightly older boy on instinct, but eyes still wide. "Felix?!? What was that?!?"

"I love you," he said, digging his face into your neck, causing you to hold in slight laughter because of how much it tickled.

"I love you too but what's this?" you asked, gesturing to the fact that the two of you were still on the floor. At that, he looked down at you, small pout forming.

"My love, y/n/n. Accept it," he said, leaving no room to argue. And in a flash, he stood up, pulling you up with him, and pointed to the pan he was working on with a big smile. "Look! I made brownies, cookies, and a cheesecake! Help me decorate?"

You wanted to refuse, to slip away to your bedroom to lie down and think--no matter how much of a bad idea that was--but the way he was looking at you like you were the sun, how could you not agree? Nodding your head, you walked behind the counter to where Felix was just starting to put on a final layer of frosting on the chilled cake. At that moment, Jeongin and Seungmin strolled. Seungmin sat in the seat you left and Jeongin came up next to you, putting an arm on your shoulder.

"I wanna help too! How do you want to decorate it?" he asked, pointing the question at you. You thought about it and your mind drifted to a movie you had watched recently.

"Lets do it Alice in Wonderland themed?" you asked, unsure if it was a bad idea. The voices around you did well ot drown out your thoughts but they'd pop up every now and again with a new sort of vigor. But with no hesitation, Jeongin just smiled and nodded. Felix brought out red and black food coloring, and started mixing it into different bowls of frosting. At that moment, Minho walked to you with a pair of chopsticks holding a piece of meat. He just brought it to your face and you opened your mouth without a second thought. It was like second nature: if one of your members was feeding you then it must be good.

Your members

The thought brought a feeling of warmth in your chest. Suddenly, tears filled your eyes. You looked away, trying to get them back under control. You shook away the ones that came up, but the warm tightness in your chest refused to let go. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and once inside, sat on the edge of the bath tub, letting the tears flow.

My members, you thought, letting the tears flow freely.

Back at the kitchen, everyone looked at each other, more worried than before.

"How bad?" Seungmin asked, turning fully to face Hyunjin. He just shook his head, remembering the fight he walked in on.

"Really bad. He was yelling and they were yelling and he suddenly just yelled it out. I grabbed them and took them out right after," he said, looking at all the boys. They shook their head, knowing what it was like when they poked the too-still bear.

"How is he?" Jeongin asked, knowing how this went. Chan cared about all of you, more than he could put into words. Jeongin knew it would only be a matter of time until the eldest realized what he said and started spiraling himself.

"I don't know. The others haven't texted but they're probably just keeping him occupied with work like he wants to be."

Seungmin looked towards the bathroom door, then to the pile of blankets laid out on the living room floor. The table in front of the TV had a cute pink table cloth over it so they could bring all the food out there to eat and watch your favorite show and movies. "Is the food almost done?" he asked, looking at Minho. He nodded and took the lid off of a nearby pot, giving it a final stir.

"Its all done. Just need to plate it and bring it to the table," he said. Jeongin took out the plates from the cabinet behind him and spread them out to make plating easier. Minho thanked the youngest by ruffling his hair and got to plating. Felix and Hyunjin in the meantime were trying to finish up the cake. Felix had just finished doing a slightly lopsided, but still made with love, checkerboard pattern and now Hyunjin was...it was hard to tell if that was Alice or the Cheshire cat, but either way, it was very "Wonderland".

When you walked out of the bathroom, having checked your eyes one last time to make sure they weren't red, you walked straight into Seungmin's back. When he turned around, he just smiled and put an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to the mess of blankets.

"What movie should we watch first?" he asked, sitting you down front and center. The boys were each bringing out plates of delicious food and your stomach growled again, much louder this time. You blushed slightly, looking down. Seungmin just laughed and handed you the remote.

"What type of movie?" you asked Seungmin.

"Whatever you want. We're happy with anything," he shrugged, leaning back against one of the pillow piles. With the food finally set, Minho sat behind you, patting your head lightly. You leaned into his hands, which then started massaging your head. The other boys came around too, Felix sitting on your other side and Jeongin and Hyunjin sitting on either side of Minho on the couch.

Felix grabbed one of the blankets from behind you and draped it across your back so it was hugging you. He then started passing around the plates of food to everyone as you finalized a movie.

With everyone snuggled in, you watched the movie and ate happily, laughing with your members as they recreated scenes, repeated funny lines, and made comments throughout the entire movie. Finishing your food, you put the plate back on the table, passing Minho’s and Jeongin’s plates onto the table as well, before putting your head on Felix’s shoulder and snuggling close.

Felix smiled down at you, grabbing a duck plushie and putting him gently into your arms. You looked from the stuffed duck to Felix and back to the duck. You smiled at it and gave it a squeeze.

You suddenly felt a small pressure on your hand and turned to see Seungmin had scooted closer to you and put his hand on top of yours. He gave your hand a squeeze and gave you a small smile before turning back to the TV.

Now feeling someone pat your head, you looked up and saw Minho patting it softly. Next to him, Jeongin was looking through a bag of clips you hadn't seen before and was picking out all the clips in your favorite color. You looked forward again and the tears were building up again. You held them back as much as you could when suddenly, Hyunjin huffed from above.

Before you could ask what happened, the tall boy made his way in font of you, Seungmin, and Felix and just flopped on all three of you. You all groaned at the sudden weight, moving every way to avoid getting his by his arms and legs as he found a position that wasn't extremely uncomfortable. Once settled, he looked at you with a cheeky smile, that then turned into a soft one. He brought his hands to your face and wiped the few tears that had escaped. He didn't say anything further, just patting your cheek and turning back.

Everything was calm now, the second movie now playing. You felt warm, both outside and inside. You always believed actions spoke louder than words, and the way the members all cared for you and spent time with you, how could you not feel welcomed? This was your family. Now, this was part of your family. You still had three members that you know care for you too.

Chan's words still hurt and you weren't just going to blindly forgive him, but he was still part of this big and crazy family you found when you found them years ago.

"We're never letting you go, I hope you know that," Seungmin muttered next to you, now holding your arm. Felix and Jeongin nodded, Felix placing a small kiss on your wet cheek.

"Never. It doesn't matter what people online say or what's said in the heat of an argument. We're never letting go," Jeongin said, squeezing your shoulder for good measure.

"The big bad wolf was extra grouchy today, which means everything out of his mouth was a big bad lie," Minho said, kissing the top of your head.

"If he's the big bad wolf, who is little red riding hood?" Hyunjin asked, turning his entire body--eliciting a groan from you, Felix, and Seungmin--and looking at Minho.

Without missing a beat, he looked at Hyunjin and said, "You are, you're going to get eaten soon."

"Do I taste good?"

"Go into the kitchen and find out," Minho said, standing up and going to grab Hyunjin, but he was quick. He got off of you three and ran to the kitchen, and he and Minho had a mini chase around the kitchen island. You laughed at their chase, moved by the kind words and the usual shenanigans of the members.

Jeongin came down in front of you and laid his head on your lap, looking up. "You're a important part of our group, y/n/n. We all love you here." You smiled at the youngest and wiped the last tears before they could escape. The lull of the TV, the comforting sounds of chaos from the kitchen, and the warmth from the members around you made you feel safe, and stopping yourself from fighting it off, you fell into a comfortable sleep, the negative thoughts nowhere to be found.

Here's the second part! I am genuinely so thankful for everyone who has read and liked part 1. I didn't even think it would get as much attention as it did! I finished part 2 early so I figured I would upload it a bit early!

I'm in the process of writing part 3, but I hope to get it done soon! Part 3 will have a happy ending, so I hope you enjoy that when it comes out as well! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!

-Jini

Divider made by: @cafekitsune

Taglist: @neyangi

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obsessivelullabies · 3 months

Text

yandere call of duty men — would they kill for you?

— characters included : kyle 'gaz' garrick, john price, simon 'ghost' riley, johnny 'soap' mactavish, phillip graves.

— warnings : murder, yandere behavior, manipulation, toxic relationships, mention of sex (soap's). gender neutral reader, isolating reader.

kyle 'gaz' garrick.

short answer; no. kyle is a rational man. he wouldn't want to terrify you. he wouldn't want to make you hate him by taking someone away from you. he doesn't want you to see him as a monster. he wants to keep his angel happy.

manipulation is his tactic. he'll drop subtle hints saying stuff such as 'i don't like how ___ does this' or 'i hate how they treat you'. he'd slowly distance you from people he didn't trust. he'll let you have a few people, your family and friends are fine, but he makes sure he's the most important person in your life.

kyle just wants to take care of you! can you blame him? he knows that he's the best person for you. just trust him.

john price.

john would only kill someone for you if they were harming you in some way. he knows the mess and the chaos that comes with such an act, yet if he believes his love would be better with said person gone, he'll do it. just for you.

he would make sure you never found out. he knows that's for the better. similar to kyle, he doesn't want you to think less of him. for john, it's more about the hassle of how you'd react.

honestly, he just wants a calm life where he can take care of you. you're his sweet pet. john won't let anyone ruin you.

simon 'ghost' riley.

simon is overly protective. insanely overprotective. he constantly worries about you. to protect you, he vows he'd do anything. if that vow involves such a drastic action, he'll do it. no regrets, no second thoughts.

simon isn't exactly trying to hide it from you. if it comes up in conversation, he'd probably have the most monotone reaction, "oh. i killed him." to the point you think he's joking.

he's terrified to lose you. terrified someone would hurt you. he'd rather set the world on fire than know something terrible happened to you. you were his life.

johhny 'soap' mactavish.

johhny devoted his entire life to you. his motive is jealousy. if he feels like someone is becoming your new favorite person, he'd have to rightfully take that spot back.

johnny would proudly show off what he did. he would fuck you over their dead body if you let him, just to show his ownership over you. how he was all you needed. he was the only man who could please you.

he's not insecure about someone else taking you, johnny is arrogant. he knows he's the best thing to ever happen to you. he's scared someone will manipulate you into leaving him.

phillip graves.

graves wouldn't go that far. in his perspective, you're like a dumb little bunny. he isolates you. he treats you as his sweetheart, making sure you know he's the perfect one to care for you.

all he has to do in his mind is to be firm. firmly tell you that he needs you by his side. he'll lower your self-esteem. make you lonely. make you dependent him.

graves in possessive and slightly insecure. he wants to own you. he wants your mind on him 100% of the time. you're his precious bunny.

masterlist. | requests are open! |

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chao-studios · 3 days

Text

"Listen to those beats!"

#sonic #sonic adventure 2 battle #chao #chao garden #SEGA #chao band #chao instruments #chao piano #GIF #hero chao #hero garden #ghira #vapor #peach #monotone chao #shiny two tone chao #Roaxes

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sebscore · 1 year

Note

part 2 to the Ollie x leclerc!reader where she’s at an f3 race watching her brother and Ollie

HER BAKU BEAU

pairings: charles leclerc x sister!reader / ollie bearman x leclerc!reader / arthur leclerc x sister!reader / lorenzo leclerc x sister!reader

warnings: swearing. francesco is made up lol.

author’s note: lol yall know I had to write about this weekend, cause charles + ollie absolutely carried!! its not a f3 race, but im sure this is good as well :)

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''I can't believe mum let me go.'' Y/N told Ollie over the phone, sitting almost alone in the airport lounge as she waited for her plane to start boarding.

She could hear her boyfriend chuckle on the other side. ''I'm grateful for her, though. You're gonna see me race tomorrow.'' His excited tone put a smile on her face, touched that he was so happy to see her.

''I just can't miss any of it; you got pole, charles got pole- I just have to be there!''

It had been a task convincing her mother to let her go to the Grand Prix, usually only going when it was during school breaks or if it was in Monaco, Italy or France. However, Charles' pole position and the fact that she didn't have school on Monday had helped her case immensely, and Pascale agreed to let her attend the GP.

The youngest Leclerc was instructed by her mother to listen to her brothers no matter what- something Arthur was definitely going to abuse- but aside from that, she had trust in her daughter and knew she wouldn't do anything reckless or dangerous.

''It was the craziest lap, I swear!'' Ollie exclaimed, recalling the chaos that was his final lap after damaging his car. ''It could have gone so wrong.''

''Yeah, but it didn't! It was perfect, you were perfect.'' Y/N smiled.

''Thank you, darling.''

The term of endearment had blood rushing to her cheeks, she glanced around the lounge and hoped no one noticed her flustered state. ''You're welcome.''

''I can hear you blushing.'' Ollie laughed.

Little Leclerc scoffed. ''I am not! I'm not blushing.'' She lied, pressing her palm to her cheek as a way to cool herself down.

''You are! It's okay, I'm your boyfriend. I'm supposed to make you blush.'' The Brit said, matter-of-factly.

'Your boyfriend'

They had been together for about 6 months yet she still wasn't used to Ollie referring to himself as her boyfriend. Not in a bad way, in a 'this feels like a dream and I'm going to wake up any minute'-way.

''This is the pre-boarding call for flight 91B to Baku. We are now inviting any passengers requiring special assistance to begin boarding at this time. Please have your identification and boarding pass ready.'' The monotone female voice announced over the speakers.

''Hey, Ollie. I have to go board now.'' Y/N was still underage so she fell under the 'special assistance' category. ''I'll see you tomorrow, alright?'' She bid him goodbye.

''Yeah, let me know when you've landed.'' It wasn't late in Azerbaijan, but she could recognize the fatigue in Ollie's voice.

''You'll be sleeping, though.'' She chuckled, knowing she would arrive quite late in the evening and that the Prema driver would be getting the much needed sleep for his sprint race tomorrow.

He shrugged his shoulders. ''So? I know it will like unconsciously make me feel assured that you landed safely.'' He reasoned, his explanation warming her heart.

''You really are a charmer, huh?'' Y/N got up from her seat and grabbed her suitcase, moving to the right gate.

She could hear a small laugh on the other side. ''If you say so.''

''I'm going to board now- I'll see you tomorrow, bye bye!''

''Can't wait! Bye, love!'' And with that the couple ended their call.

Before pulling her boarding pass and ID out of her bag, she sent a quick text to their sibling group chat. Since she was travelling on her own, Lorenzo wanted her to give as many updates as she could.

| Little Leclerc: boarding now, will text when we take off x

| Thur Thur: don't die 🙂

| Enzo TL: Have a safe flight! See you soon, chérie! X

| Enzo TL: Arthur, be nice!

| Charlito: safe flight, bébé :) ❤️

| Charlito: tell the staff if you need anything!!

| Thur Thur: she's 17, not 7 😒

| Enzo TL: you are the only one acting like a 7 year-old! 😙

''He's on pole again!'' The atmosphere in the Ferrari garage was out of this world as Charles took the pole position in the sprint shootout. Everyone clapped and was thrilled the Monégasque was able to retain the top position.

Andrea urged Y/N to follow him to Parc Fermé with some of the other Scuderia crew to celebrate another pole position for her brother behind the fence.

''Charlie!'' The voice of his sister grabs his attention and he made his way over to the youngest Leclerc and his trainer. Charles pulled her into a hug, kissing the side of her head. ''Two pole positions!'' She said, holding up two fingers.

''I didn't think we would be able to pull that off.'' Charles sighed, putting his bracelets on that Andrea handed to him.

They nodded at him, understanding his doubt. ''But you did it! Now we have to get ready for the sprint and push as much as we can.'' His trainer encouraged him, wanting Charles to be as positive as possible.

''Cha, I think you have to go do your interview.'' Y/N pointed behind him, seeing the F1TV staff waiting for the Ferrari driver.

Charles let out a deep breath, not in the mood and just wanting to prepare himself for the sprint race. ''I'll be right back.'' He begrudgingly turned around and walked over to the interviewer and cameraman, still politely greeting them.

Y/N tried focusing on Charles as he spoke to the woman, but Andrea lightly pushed her shoulder with his. She glanced at him in confusion. ''What?''

''For F2- which garage are you going to?''

She scoffed at the question, a shy smile forming on her lips. ''You're really asking me that?''

The Italian shrugged his shoulders. ''I'm curious.'' The teasing smirk on his face was evidence that it was more than simple curiosity.

''I'm going to Thur's garage.'' She answered, looking down at her shoes.

She'd had this exact conversation with Lorenzo the night before in the car. Although, it was a bit more serious than the one she was having with Andrea at the moment.

Her and Ollie had agreed to keep their relationship private for as long as circumstances allowed it. They were both aware certain fans could get a little crazy and Y/N already received hate comments for simply being Charles' sister, something she couldn't exactly control.

So, showing up at the Prema Racing garage wouldn't exactly be ''low key'' as Enzo had explained it to her.

''He won't say it, but Thur really wants you in his garage.'' Her older brother told her while driving back to their hotel. ''He really likes Ollie, but you're his sister, you know? I think if you would stand with the Prema's, he would think that you're not rooting for him.''

Y/N understood what he meant, and deep down she knew it was more important to stand on Arthur's side. Her brother might tease and annoy her, but he deeply loves her and her support means everything to him.

The sudden reappearance from Charles brought her back to the present.

''Here,'' he put the cap he had been given on her head, ''you can have it.'' It was obvious he wasn't a fan of the beglittered cap that functioned as a prize for winning the sprint shootout.

''Thanks, I guess.'' Y/N chuckled.

Charles patted her head. ''Maybe you should start heading to the F2 paddock, you don't want to be late.''

''Francesco is taking me later.'' His sister answered. Francesco was part of the Scuderia Ferrari crew, but also worked with the FDA drivers. He had offered to take Y/N with him to the DAMS garage since he had to check up on both Arthur and Ollie.

Her brother nodded. ''Good, don't want you to get lost again.'' He teased, jokingly rolling his eyes at the reminder of Silverstone last year.

''Hey! That was Arthur's fault, he shouldn't have left me alone.'' She defended herself, not liking the implication that she had gotten lost by herself while it was Arthur that had decided to leave her all by herself in the Prema hospitality.

Charles smirked at her. ''You got a boyfriend out of it, didn't you? You should be a little more grateful to Arthur.''

Y/N slapped her brother's arm, much to the amusement of the Ferrari crew and nearby lurking reporters, their cameras capturing the moment between the siblings.

Charles glimpsed at something behind her, pointing his finger. ''Francesco's there, I'll see you later, okay?'' He pulled his sister in a quick hug again, bidding her goodbye.

''Bye, Cha!''

The walk to the F2 paddock and garages wasn't too long and the good weather made it more enjoyable as well. She knew Francesco from when Charles joined the academy so they were well acquainted with one another.

While making their way to the DAMS garage, Y/N and Francesco pass the Prema one. The youngest Leclerc slowed down, confusing the older man next to her as he had no idea about the relationship between her and Ollie.

The feeling of disappointment sneaked up on her when Ollie wasn't in sight. She'd hoped she would be able to get a glimpse of him before the sprint race started, not having seen him for a few weeks now.

However, his dad and trainer noticed her. David and Jamie nodded their heads, subtly greeting her. Y/N reciprocated the action, happy she at least got to see part of his team.

Once she arrived at the French team's camp, she was met by Lorenzo warming Arthur up for his race. ''Took you long enough.'' Arthur joked, almost missing the ball that his older brother dropped out of his hand.

''I wish I had one of those electric steps, they'd really help me out.'' She said, sitting down on one of the empty chairs.

Francesco shook hands with both brothers. ''I'll take over, Enzo.'' The Monégasque nodded in appreciation and handed over the tennis balls to the older man, and sat down next to his sister.

''Nice hat.'' He snickered, resulting in Y/N rolling his eyes at him. ''So, uh, you've seen Ollie yet?'' Lorenzo asked, whispering the last part of his question.

The youngest Leclerc sibling shook her head. ''No, we passed by Prema, but I only saw his dad and Jamie.'' She explained to him.

Lorenzo nodded along to her words. ''He did really good yesterday, getting pole with a damaged car and a steering wheel that's not hanging right- absolutely crazy!''

Y/N beamed at her brother's small summary of Ollie's amazing qualifying from the day before, delighted he had nothing but nice words for her boyfriend. ''I know! I watched it during recess, I was like, trying not to start yelling.''

''I can imagine,'' her older brother smiled, ''but you're here for your brother now, okay? So don't start screaming for Prema when you're in the DAMS garage.'' His tone turned more serious, almost sounding like he was scolding the young girl.

''Of course. I'm happy to be here, Enzo.'' She shrugged his words off, understanding what he was trying to tell her.

He simply nodded and focused himself back on the other youngster. ''I think it's time to get in the car, Tutur.'' Lorenzo told Arthur who sighed, but gave himself an encouraging nod.

Before walking over towards his engineer, the youngest brother stopped next to his sister. ''I know I'm starting behind your boyfriend, but root for me, okay?'' Arthur pointed at himself, as if solidifying that she's there for him.

Y/N gave him a side hug. ''You really think I would come all the way here to not support you?'' Her brother's words surprised her, Arthur wasn't usually the one to explicitly ask for her support.

''Merci, bébé,'' a soft smile found its way to the Monégasques' face, ''okay, bye now.'' Arthur pinched her side, causing his sister to pull away from him in annoyance.

''I was worried you two actually got along for a second.'' Lorenzo commented, holding both of his siblings' shoulders and moving them to the garage.

''LECLERC LOST IT AS WELL!'' The commentary of Alex Brundle sounds as Arthur retired from the race, almost crashing into the wall. Y/N let out a deep breath as he stepped out of his car, relieved her brother seemed visibly not in pain.

She took a glance at the leaderboard and saw Ollie overtaking Frederic before the safety car was called. A soft smile planted itself on her face, before it was wiped away by the sight of the disappointed mechanics as their two drivers didn't finish the race.

While they waited for Arthur to get back, Y/N and Lorenzo followed the remainder of the sprint race which finished under the safety car, and Ollie took his first win of the season.

The young girl was over the moon for her boyfriend, knowing how much the first three races had let him down. However, the way Arthur stormed passed her and Lorenzo didn't give her enough time to enjoy the moment.

''Arthuro, calm down!'' Lorenzo told his younger brother, not a fan of the defeated Arthur that sat in front of him.

His hands went through his hair, his behaviour screaming frustration. ''I fucked up! Why did I fucking stay behind Théo?'' He muttered to himself.

''There was a lot going on, you just got distracted.'' Y/N tried comforting him. The restart had been absolute chaos, a total of 6 cars retiring from the race.

Arthur's head shot up at her words. ''That's the thing! I shouldn't have gotten distracted!''

''Hey! Pipe down, okay? No need to be yelling at your sister.'' Lorenzo argued, not a fan of his agitated tone and loud voice.

The driver loudly sighed, but mumbled a quiet ''sorry''. He took a few more moments to calm himself down, before glimpsing at his sister. ''Shouldn't you go celebrate your boyfriend?''

The usual teasing Arthur momentarily came back, a small smirk hanging on his lips. ''I want to be here with you, Thur.''

His gaze softened at his sister's sweetness. Arthur didn't say anything further, simply reaching his arms out for her and pulling her into a hug. ''I hate it when you're nice to me.''

''Don't lie, you bimbo.'' Y/N chuckled, not letting the hug last long due to his sweating. ''Please, take a shower- you smell.'' She pushed her brother away.

''Alright, alright.''

| ollie 🧸: fred and his team are gone :)

| ollie 🧸: just me, dad and jamie

| y/n ❤: 5 minutes x

She wanted to slap the teasing smiles off of her brothers’ faces as she bid them goodbye. ''If you're not at the exit on time, I'm personally knocking that door down and dragging you back home.'' Lorenzo semi-threatened her, a lame attempt at making a stern face.

''Yeah, yeah. I'll be there.'' Y/N promised her brother, quickly making her way out of the door and to her boyfriend's driver room.

All of the F2 team rooms were on the same floor so it didn't take her long to arrive at the Prema room. She knocked three times and opened the door.

The three men inside glanced up from their phone, the youngest one immediately standing up and taking a few big steps towards her. ''Hey!'' Ollie engulfed her in a hug, his head resting on her shoulder.

''Congratulations, race winner!'' Y/N giggled, rubbing his back.

''It was fucking crazy-''

''Language, Oliver.'' David interrupted him, reminding his son that he needed to drop the swearing.

Ollie rolled his eyes. ''Sorry, dad,'' he apologised, his cheeks colouring red, ''it was really really crazy- like suddenly a bunch of cars were out and I was in P2. I knew the safety car was coming out so I quickly overtook Fred and-''

''Ollie, breathe.'' His girlfriend interrupted his rambling, watching him getting out of breath as his chest went up and down at a fast pace.

The Prema driver looked taken aback, but nodded his head and took a deep breath. ''Yeah, anyway- it was amazing. I hope Arthur's okay, though.'' He had seen how his former teammate didn't finish, but wasn't aware of the circumstances.

''Yeah, he just got distracted by the entire mess and couldn't get out of it.'' Y/N explained to them, pouting at the reminder of her brother's DNF.

The three of them nodded. ''That happens sometimes, it was indeed a mess.'' Jamie sympathised.

''Here,'' Ollie grabbed her shoulder and pointed at the chair he was previously sitting on, ''sit down, sit down.'' He gently guided her forward to sit down.

Y/N swiftly shook her head. ''No, no. You just did a race, I'll stand- it's not a problem.''

The gears in the young man's head seemed to stop working as he simply stared at her, not expecting her to refuse the seat and offer it to him. ''Uh, no, I- uh…'' Ollie stuttered.

''You know what, kids? We have to go do something so behave in here, alright?'' David interrupted his son once again, sensing an awkward moment coming up and wanting to save him from that.

His dad and Jamie got up from their seats and moved out of the driver's room, his trainer sending him a wink before closing the door.

The couple slowly found each other's eyes, bursting out in laughter once they were sure the two men were gone. ''He's so embarrassing, I swear.'' Ollie sighs, taking his dad's original seat.

''At least they left us alone- Enzo would rather die than leave the two of us alone.'' Y/N retorted, sitting down on Ollie's chair.

The Brit laughed at her words, despite knowing it was 100% the truth. ''Yeah, I guess- anyway, I'm happy you're here.'' A soft smile formed on his face and he grabbed her hand that laid on the armrest.

The Monégasque mirrored his expression. ''Me too. I really missed you.'' She squeezed his hand, sending a wink his way.

''I missed you too. These last weeks have been hectic and as much as I love our Facetimes- it's been really hard not seeing you in person.'' He confessed.

Ollie didn't want to make her feel bad about all the time they've spent apart the last weeks. Their schedules simply never seemed to align. When he had days off, she was busy with school and when she wasn't studying, he had to train or compete.

Y/N pouted at his words. ''It's been hard for me too. My brothers see you more than I do,'' she teased, ''but I'm here now.'' The young girl smiled at her boyfriend.

''Yeah, I'm really happy about that.'' Ollie intertwined their hands, less shy about showing affection now that they were alone.

''So you're planning on doing a clean sweep or what?'' Y/N chuckled, remembering he had been first in every session during the ongoing weekend.

The Prema driver shook his head, chuckling as well. ''The team has been doing so great this weekend- it would be nice to take the win tomorrow and it would be even better if you could come watch me on the podium…'' He trailed off, a sneaky look on his face.

''You know people will talk about it if I show up there and Thur isn't on the podium.'' She told him, carrying a doubtful expression.

Ollie nodded, understanding her concerns. ''Yeah and for all I know, I might not even end up on the podium so maybe we're worrying over nothing.'' He mumbled the last bit under his breath, the possibility of something going wrong clouding his mind.

Y/N noticed and shuffled her chair closer to him. ''Hey,'' her hand cupped his cheek, ''you're gonna win tomorrow, like- don't tell Arthur this- but you're owning everyone right now.''

Her boyfriend chuckled at her words, his loving gaze settling on her. ''This weekend has just been so perfect… I don't know, you've seen my luck so far this season. I'm just scared that something is gonna go wrong.'' Ollie confided in her, voicing the thoughts in his head.

''Nothing will go wrong tomorrow! You put a damaged car on pole, Ollie!'' She laughed, gently pushing his shoulder. ''You're gonna do amazing and you're gonna make history.''

''You seem to have a lot of fate in me.'' Ollie smirked, his girlfriend's words making him feel better about himself and his race tomorrow.

Y/N teasingly rolled her eyes. ''If you don't like it, I can go and support someone else- what's his name again, Zane?'' She pretended to want to support his rival instead of him, knowing it would annoy him.

''Hey! Not fair!'' Ollie exclaimed, lightly giving her arm a tap. ''Me and Arthur are the only people you should support. Not the Barbados boy.'' He whined to her, trapping her in a hug.

The girl laughed into his neck, happy to get such a response out of her boyfriend. The couple stayed like that for a little while, enjoying each other's company and appreciating the time they were spending together.

''Bear, what time is it?'' Y/N asked him, suddenly remembering her promise to Lorenzo.

Ollie pulled out his phone from his pocket. ''Uh, 17:08.'' He answered, putting it back.

''Shit! I have to go.'' Her loud reactions to his words made him flinch as she jumped up from his arms. ''I promised Enzo I would be at the exit in like 2 minutes or he would bust down the door.'' She explained hastily upon seeing Ollie's puzzled face.

''He's not gonna break the door.'' The Brit snickered before glancing at his girlfriend's serious expression. ''Alright, he might break down the door. I'll see you later.'' He pecked her cheek, swallowing down his disappointment she had to go already.

''Don't forget we're getting ice cream later!'' She reminded him of their little date later in the evening.

''No, no! I'll be there!''

''You better, Bearman!''

''OLIVER BEARMAN WHO WON THE SPRINT RACE YESTERDAY AND NOW HE LOOKS UP AND SEES THE CHEQUERED FLAG AS THE WINNER OF THE FEATURE! OLIVER BEARMAN DOES THE DOUBLE IN BAKU! WHAT A WEEKEND FOR THE BRITISH DRIVER!''

Y/N had a hard time to not freak out and start screaming as she watched her boyfriend do something no one F2 driver had done before, not even her own brother had been able to do it 6 years before.

Lorenzo took a glance at his sister next to him, noticing the obvious joy on her face.

He nudged her shoulder. ''He did great, didn't he?'' Her oldest brother whispered, an unfeigned smile present.

She shyly looked at him, glancing down at her shoes. ''Yeah… I'm very proud of him.'' Her words came out quite slowly as she didn't want the people around them to hear who she was talking about.

A conflicting thought rushed through Lorenzo's mind, something that might have repercussions that wouldn't be able to be reversed later.

''How about you go to Charles already? I'm sure he'd love to spent some time with you before his race.'' Her brother didn't look at her while talking, focusing himself on Arthur's car that was making its way back into the DAMS garage.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, confused as to why she would leave without them. ''But what about you and Thur?'' She asked him, turning towards him.

''He still has to debrief with the team and we don't want you to be bored with that,'' he explained, still not sparing her a glance, ''you should go now, honey. The podium ceremony is gonna start and you don't want to be stuck in the crowd, do you?''

Her face brightened once she understood what he was actually saying. He wants her to be there for Ollie when he takes the top step of the podium.

''Yeah, I'll get going then,'' she took off her headset and gave it to her brother, ''tell Thur I'm proud of him.'' She swiftly added, feeling slightly bad about leaving before saying anything to Arthur.

''I will, now go.'' Lorenzo gave her a little push.

Y/N scattered out of the DAMS garage, trying hard not to look like a fool as she tried to walk as fast as she could to Parc Fermé. She hoped she would be on time and not miss it, cause otherwise it wasn't worth it speeding past all these people and almost running into them.

Ollie, Enzo and Théo already stood on the podium when she finally made it there, relief going through knowing that she wasn't too late for his special moment. The youngest Leclerc slowed down her steps, wanting to stay for as long as she could without being photographed or appearing on the large screen.

The British national anthem started playing, Ollie visibly scanning the crowd in hopes he would spot a certain person.

Luckily for him, he found her.

It was like fate had schemed the moment; Y/N looked up at Ollie right as he looked down at her- their eyes finding one another.

A rush of confidence went through Ollie's body, aware of the incredible feat he just achieved that won't be repeated any time soon. They held eye contact, and the young girl nearly stopped in her tracks as she shared a special moment with the boy she had grown very fond of over the last 9 months.

Ollie surprised by sending a wink her way, clearly not having done it a lot as he closed both of his eyes while doing it. Her cheeks flushed, flustered by the unexpected action that put a small smile on the Brit's face.

Despite her unhurried steps, she had reached the end of Parc Fermé. In a moment of bravery, she gave her boyfriend a quick wave before making her way to the Ferrari hospitality.

Y/N pulled out her phone and opened her Whatsapp, typing a message she knew would make the Prema driver laugh.

| y/n ❤: very proud of u, oliver winkman x

Liked by olliebearman, arthur_leclerc and 112.628 others

ynleclerc a nice weekend in baku 🇦🇿 I’m very proud of my brother and the entire ferrari team 🏎️🧸🚦🥉

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| lorenzotl family time 😍

— ynleclerc ❤️

| charles_leclerc merci, bébé!❤️

— ynleclerc ❤️

| piarlesfanforlife NOT THE CAT PIC 😭 Y/N YOURE TOO FUNNY

| ferratifosi1655 the leclerc siblings >>>>

| scuderia_ferrari Grazie, Y/N! ❤️ Cut The Cat will miss you!

— ynleclerc I will miss him too! 🐈‍⬛😢

| gino_rosato FAMILY ❤️

| sharl1lechair6 the hug between Y/N and charles at the podium was the highlight of the race

| softforbearman8 the teddy bear emoji… and ollie liked the post… 👀

— sainzleclercfan pls don’t 😒 that is such a stretch

— softforbearman8 it’s just an observation!

— centraleclercs wasn’t Y/N dating paul aron? I swear that was a thing 🤔

— formulaofaron it was a rumour a while ago, but nothing was ever confirmed

— sainzleclercfan Charles made a Instagram story weeks ago asking for privacy! Haven’t you learned by now to just leave their family alone? 😤

taglist :: @missskid @maxiel-jpg @glitterquadricorn @stillbreathin @obsessed-fan-alert @booknerd2004-blog @kageyamama-hinatatata @reblog-princess-blog @maezenin12 @gly-exe @lighttsoutlewis @topguncultleader @jaydensluv @nora_moon @erinisrightheree @7leb-kakaw @theamazingsimp @lovelyxlily @princessmiaelicia @mehrmonga @champomiel @rowansshit @mbappebby @maemaesthoughts @g4ns3y @im_mi @gracesferrari @67-angelofthelordme-67 @harrysdimple05 @ijustwantavacation @livinglifebeingme @Judgemental-Raven

if you want to be added to the taglist, please fill in the form !

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x sister!reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #f1 x you #f2 x reader #f1 imagines #arthur leclerc x sister!reader #arthur leclerc x reader

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cillivnz · 1 year

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MISS A SPOT, HIT THE SPOT [lord dimitrescu]

pairing. LORD DIMITRESCU x MAID!READER (dub!con turned consensual)

initial, DIMITRESCU SONS x READER (very dubious consent)

word count. 3072

warnings. AFAB!reader, cursing, misogynistic themes, animal cruelty (using gator-skin on furniture; don’t call PETA on me, i’m sorry), groping, a little bit of exhibitionism, dub!con, fingering, reader is pinned against the wall, reader’s family has been serving the Dimitrescus, large age-gap, oral sex (both receiving), throat-fucking, tongue-fucking, clit play, pyromania, dacryphilia, extreme degradation, belittling, spitting, penetrative sex (p! in v!), squirting, multiple & forced orgasms, extreme breast/nipple play, reader’s just being used by the family, reader is called maid as well as a pet name in Romanian, unprotected sex, creampie.

listening to. ‘Enslaved’ by Diva Destruction

notes. Y/L — Your Last Name, Y/F/N — Your Father’s Name, căprița mea mică — my little doe

A regular day in an abysmal castle.

Your ancestry were sworn servants of the Dimitrescu royals, and ensuing your father’s demise after leading a devoted life to the Lord, it was your turn.

You managed to avoid his acknowledge, as well as his sons’; something you thanked your stars for. You were still at a tender age; early twenties yet unexposed to the worldly works, courtesy of your conservative father. You loved the old man, despite him giving you constant reminders that your birth doomed him— how you should’ve been a son to continue his legacy, not a fragile, worthless woman. But those words only came out of his mouth like venom when he was made to overwork or worse— punished.

And like any other day you were dusting the halls. Except it wasn’t every other day you felt your skirt lift up fervently by two strong hands who also pinned you against the wall. An heir. Another, holding you down, while one tugged at your blouse. Alas, the Dimitrescu boys had found you.

“Well, well, the silhouette comes to life.” The one pining you spoke. He had a raspy voice with some baritone to it. “Sire, please leave me be—” you beseeched, but before you could even beg, you choked on your own words as your thong was pushed to the side. “She wants to leave, yet you roam about our land dressed like a whore.” This erupted demonic laughter from all three. “You thought we ought not to catch on?” The one below spoke, his face so close to your cunt, you felt heat radiate off of him with every syllable he dragged. “Your scent lingers— hauntingly— how we’ve chased after your ghost.” “But you were always too fast, little doe.”

“Always teasing us — where were you hiding this beauty? Hm?” One teased, his stone cold lips grazing your bare shoulder. “Moreover where had you been hiding this ass of yours?”

You jolted when a harsh slap landed on your ass, your not-so-subtle moan eliciting evil laughter from the men harassing you.

The one gripping your ass began to spread it, you writhed like a worm in their vice-like embrace, begging and praying for the abuse to be over; in a way it was.

The minute you felt something stroke your folds, prodding at your entrance, a demonic thunder struck. “What do you have here, boys?” They froze, as did you. This is the most cooperation you four have shown, as if unsaid, yet understood that if you hold your breath and close your eyes, the Lord can’t hurt you.

But slowly, as if puppies caught creating chaos by their master, did the boys move away from you. Bright yellow eyes ablaze in the monotonous dark of his castle. His eyes darted from your glassy eyes staring at him, the fear in them, to your rosy cheeks, blood-red lips, and straight to your skirt; your ass was out since a Dimitrescu brother hiked it up, the same heir, on realising what his father’s hungry eyes were doting upon, made a feeble attempt to fix your skirt, but before his fingers, barely tainted with your slick wetness, could touch the fabric of your skirt, let alone fix it, his father ordered. “Don’t you dare lay hands on her, more than you have already.” The Lord spoke with utmost calmness, and that’s what terrified the four of you, you especially, the most.

Reluctantly but obediently they stepped away from you. You were still clinging to the wall, frozen in place. “Come on over,” You saw his gloved hand motion towards him, “My chambers need cleaning.” An ominously mischievous tone and provocative smirk tugged at his lips.

The walk to the Lord’s chambers was awkward and fearful. He had insisted you walked in front of him, and you could feel eyes ripping through your flesh, your predator ready to pounce on you at any given moment.

You were making feeble steps towards his chambers, almost there, when he interrupted you, “Halt,” he said, causing you to stop dead in your tracks, but you dare not look back at him. “Clean my study firstly.” He ordered, and waited by the door for you to turn around.

Once you turned, you were met by calculating amber eyes that peered down at you from a head held high. He stood by the doorframe, and on seeing you make weak, yet progressive steps towards him, his thunderous strides entered the chamber. He was seated on a leather chair by the time you entered, as if he’d been there the entire time. ‘Gator skin,’ you heard a rumour the one time you cleaned the Lord’s study before. ‘He tore it apart with his bare hands, and had it skinned into a chair as a trophy.’ You hadn’t believed the chamberlain until you’d seen it yourself.

On the left of it was an ablaze fireplace, and in front, was a library; not colossal, yet extreme in number. Books of alchemy, instructional journals of God summonings, documentations on every supernatural creature that roamed the planet and how to kill them; even the Satanic Bible was on display.

“Do you fancy reading?” You almost jumped when his ravenous voice broke the eerie silence you were just growing accustomed to. “Yes, my Lord.” You seemed to pique his interest when he hummed after a short pause, surprised within yourself at the sudden confidence. It was clear, you preferred the father’s company to his sons’. Perhaps, you felt safe knowing he is the leash on his sons— the fear of your fears.

“Well, if your cleaning is satisfactory, perhaps… I’ll let you take some.” the Lord proposed, but somehow you knew this reward wasn’t for cleaning but something else he wanted to deem satisfactory.

You dare not utter another word and got to cleaning.

Dusting away, between books, underneath books; wiping away at the large mirror by the shelves. “What do they call you?” He asked with authority.

“Y/N Y/L, my Lord,” you hesitantly revealed. “Y/L!” He exclaimed, “You’re Y/F/N Y/L’s daughter,” he concluded in a wicked tone. With each wipe, he grew closer and closer and the horrid smile on his face grew wider and more sinister, forcing you to look back at him at a neck-snapping speed, only to catch him, still seated, gazing at you innocently.

“Mop the floors,” he requested, before adding “Maid.” As if asking your revelation of your identity fell on deaf ears that never demanded it. Without muttering, you dampen the mop and began cleaning.

This was just cruel.

You thought your saviour actually required your services, yet the man had you in the same position as his sons, except voluntarily, for you had to bend on all fours and stretch not to miss a spot, after all you were cleaning your master’s land, at his request. ‘The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,’ you sighed, only daring to think of it.

You heard fervent movement behind you, and the next thing you feel is your thong being pulled down till your ankles. It happened all too fast, you barely registered anything until his large hands spread you open to him. “They were right about you,” He spoke, intrigued, “Such exemplary beauty, căprița mea mică. Utterly pristine.”

Noticing your haltered movements, he quirked a brow. “Did I permit you to stop?” You choked a gasp, feeling his left hand trace your curves, making its way to squeeze your throat, while his right hand fiddled with your glistening folds. “No sir,” you breathed a sigh at the pleasure he was making you feel. “Fucking continue then.” He ordered and you did.

Maybe not a regular day in an abysmal castle. Your 9’6 Lord and Master, the fearsome and notorious, the head of the dreaded Dimitrescu family, Lord Dimitrescu himself, kneeling behind you while you wipe his floors, fingers stroking your lips, not yet penetrating, just— “Oh!” You moaned when a long, thick, wet something slithered about your pussy. Prodding at the places his very fingers grazed, now wiggling inside you.

You began panting, about to look back and begin your pleads when a strong hand grabbed your skull and forced it in place.

You were terrified; just a bit more coaxing and he could crack open your skull. You were less than half his size and half his age. What was more frightening to you was that it was just the tip of his tongue inside you. Your eyes rolled back and damn-near saw your brain as he began pushing more of it in.

Still, obediently, you wiped.

This pleased the Lord as he wrapped an arm over your waist to your legs and brought his thumb to your clit. The circular motions of figure-eights on your clit were frantic, causing an excruciating jolt of pleasure to run down your lower half, his anomaly of a tongue amplifying the feel.

You bit you lip, nearly drawing blood as the knot in your core grew unbearable. Feeling you clench around his tongue, Lord Dimitrescu replaced the oral attack with two of his fingers, stretching you so bittersweetly. The assault on your cunt was aching. He’d graze your g-spot oh-so-softly, slowly driving you to the edge yet deliberately prolonging the high tide. “You are making a mess, căprița mea mică,” he sighed, eyeing the slick dripping down your thighs, drenching you in all, and the wooden floor beneath you. “Allow me to help.” It was more imperative than offering, so it was but natural you grimaced in pain when he pulled out his fingers, moments before you were coming undone, only to spread your aching hole and spit into it.

You moaned; shamelessly, you let out a filthy, degraded moan, and the sound travelled straight to the Lord’s cock. “There, there,” he rubbed his spit on your folds, your swollen clit bathed in it, “All better — nice and clean.” He chuckled, causing goosebumps to arise on your spine and your breath to get caught in your throat when he shoved not two but three fingers smoothly into your weeping cunt.

You clenched at the sudden attack, bewildered at how easily you were being made to cum for your master yet again. He rose from his position to whisper in your ear, “Hits the spot, doesn’t it?” At that moment, he had you unravelling with a curl on his fingers inside you.

You screaming a string of curses, the Lord greatly amused by your sailor’s tongue.

He stood up, without a word or move. “Clean the mess you made.” He gestured down at your juices that he flowed out of your cunt. “And while you’re down there…” He unzipped his pants, pulling out his cock that sprang free, a demonic thing, it was; certainly, not pleasurable to accommodate inside, unless…

“Don’t be afraid, maid.” His baritone voice gave you absurd comfort, the tone, reassuring.

“It can’t hurt you, unless I want it to.” His pearly whites were like the fangs of a serpent, peering out, bloodthirsty for you. You wavered off the uneasiness, still eager to please your master. Grabbing his colossal cock, you began to work out the large vein on the underside of it. He hissed when you applied pressure, using both your hands in an attempt to hold it; in vain it went. You licked the tip, before slowly taking it in your mouth.

“That’s it. Show me you’re an all-rounder, maid; not just for wiping floors, show me that’s not all you can do bent over.” He chuckled, something so sinister about how his own vulgarity was so amusing to him. However, you weren’t opposed to it. After all, orders were orders; that’s one thing your father did teach you, if ordered directly, orders are orders, even if they’re fatal.

You gagged on less-than half the length, but your quick save by jacking off the inches unabsorbed by your mouth was much appreciated by the man above you. His large palm resting atop your head, slowly caressing your messed up hair into place. The gesture nearly knocked the air out of you, for when your perplexed eyes met his expectedly ravenous ones, you were shocked to see them replaced by fondness.

“You take it like it was made for you.” He cooed. You couldn’t help but put your guard down, making it unknowingly advantageous to the Lord who grabbed the same head he was caressing, as support to fuck your throat. He only chuckled at the stream of years flowing through your glassy eyes. Your flushed face tainted with tears was now red with lack of oxygen. His cock was slamming past your uvula; the bell tolls, as if he were morally obligated to.

“So young, yet you suck cock like you’ve been a whore all your life.” He chuckled to himself, before thrusting in deeply, and cumming inside your mouth. You swallowed his ichor without being told, when you stuck out your tongue to show him, he groaned, face contorted in some form of arousal, as he lifted your frame to his, kissing you with neediness. His lips were surprisingly tender, beard teasing your face while his tongue, one that swept your insides clean, forced entry into your mouth, which you hesitantly permitted.

“Dust by the fireplace, better get to it.” He said, pulling away from you. You grabbed the supplies and moved towards the said place. You hadn’t noticed when the flames became blazing, a conflagration, either way, you dipped the mop in the bucket beside you, and began wiping.

You couldn’t get much done, however, for from underneath your skirt, you felt something big prod your entrance. Rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, Lord Dimitrescu positioned himself behind you, before shoving the whole of it in. You screamed, damage was made to your vocal chords as well as your walls when the penetration quickly turned into pummelling, giving you zero time to adjust to the mammoth size of it.

Dumbfounded, cock-drunk, utterly paralysed in place, you had no choice but try to get accustomed to the relentless attack your pussy had to endure. “My…-my Lord!” You moaned, trying to form an actual sentence, “This is highly inap…-inappropriate!” You managed to muster. “Really now?” He questioned, you don’t know if it was a scoff or a laugh following his amused tone. “Who,” he paused, pushing you forward. You were now a stone’s throw away from the fire, every thrust into you pulled you back, which, despite the burn of the stretch, made you grateful for you were pulled back from the fireplace. “Do you think,” he continued, thrusting into you harder each time; the heat of the fire threatening to melt you whole, grazing your face, delicately. “You are.” He finished, slamming into you so hard, you began to cum, but before you could unravel before him, he pulled out, causing your pussy to spasm around the eerie nothingness of the room.

You were reduced to a whining mess, no words coming out of your abused mouth. “What’s the matter, maid? You want to cum?” he questioned, gripping your curvy hips. “Even when you’ve missed a spot?” One of his arms snaked on your waist, the other roamed about your spine, laying you down, before pulling your head up by your hair.

“You’re doing it all wrong,” he groaned, cock pressing against your slit, it’s new home, yet not in. He grabbed the bucket of freshwater besides you, pouring it all on the floor. “Let’s get that spot, shall we?” He said, before doing something so degrading, you felt disgusted in your own skin for enjoying.

Your hot body was used to wipe the floors of Lord Dimitrescu’s study. Ripping your blouse into shreds, he groped your breasts that had sprang free, before positioning your chest on the wet floor, and swaying you left to right.

This man, your ancestry’s master, was balls deep inside your abused pussy, fucking away the life in you, while using your tits as a mop. You moaned as your burning skin made contact with the icy puddle. “That’s how you wipe, căprița mea mică, so much better.” He grunted, the pace, the size, the girth, the sheer brutality of his sex was like a punch to the gut, nonetheless your poor cunt made feeble attempts to get accustomed to the ongoing torture. Your cunt clenched around his cock while your breasts swayed from side to side, the carpet had soupçons of water, courtesy of the fervency with which you “wiped”, which it soaked up instantly.

“My Lord, I’m going to- oh!” You yelped when he pulled out, shoving his fingers inside you and curling them. You hadn’t anticipated this, body reacting on sheer adrenaline junk that’s been coaxed out of you since the incident with this man’s sons in the halls of his castle.

Then, as fate would have it, mocking your misery, you squirted all over the floor. The juices gushing out your cunt, drowning the man that coaxed them out. He giggled, like a fucking teenager, while you fought for consciousness. Sure, you’d had sex before, he was a chef in this very place who mysteriously disappeared, but a man Lord Dimitrescu’s size? You had never held your head high around the family, avoiding their gaze like a thief, and now he’s fucking you like a stinging reminder of why you should’ve stayed in the shadows— remained a silhouette.

You were sore from the previous two orgasms, yet the man made it look easy to coax your third. The hostility your cunt displaying, clenching around the wanted, yet unmanageable penetration, was enough to unravel Lord Dimitrescu, you following with pornographic screams.

His grip on your hip and scalp was tormenting, but it soon loosened when he pumped into you one last time, pussy milked dry, filled with his overflowing load. He exhaled sharply, pulling up your panties, tapping your ass lightly. “You have been amazing — definitely considering promoting you.” He seemed very proud of his joke. Leaning down to catch your ear where you’d nearly passed out on the ground, he whispered in your ear. “Now, clean up.”

He left a moment after, stopping at the doorway to catch a glimpse of your sexy, worn out body. “My room’s next.” He said, leaving you alone with a shit load of mess to clean.

Your mess.

main masterlist. more from “resident evil: village”.

#lord dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu genderbent #lady dimitrescu #genderbent #lord dimitrescu smut #lord dimitrescu x reader #lord dimitrescu x reader smut #size difference #resident evil #resident evil village #dimitrescu #monster smut #vampire smut #lord dimitrescu sons #dimitrescu family #resident evil dimitrescu #maid dress #slutty maid

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thelampisaflashlight · 6 months

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For the longest time, Rain was really quiet/seemed pretty serious, and then one day he chose violence and pinched Dew's ass and went, "Honk." in a monotone voice, and it's been chaos ever since.

#lamp rambles #shitghosting #nameless ghouls #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc

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seoltzuki · 4 days

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Polite

mina x afab reader

a scrapped work of mine

suggestive, not proofread

"you can’t touch before you say please"

The corporate dinner stretched before you like an endless expanse of dread, filled with the looming presence of obnoxious rich men who chewed with their mouths open and sweated profusely under the dim lighting. You sat at your designated table, feeling suffocated by the stifling atmosphere and longing for escape.

Across the room, Mina sat at her own table, her eyes occasionally flicking in your direction amidst the sea of gaudy displays of wealth and power. You could see the resignation mirrored in her expression, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity of it all.

As the evening wore on, the cacophony of clinking glasses and boisterous laughter grated on your nerves, each moment dragging on like an eternity in the suffocating confines of corporate formality.

And to top it off, you dreaded the impending cocktail party scheduled immediately after this ordeal.

But despite the distractions, your attention kept gravitating towards Mina. Her gaze lingered on yours whenever your eyes met, a silent exchange of understanding amidst this shit show.

Observing her, every gesture and movement piqued your curiosity and admiration until your attention was suddenly diverted by the sight of her drowning her steak in ketchup. The absurdity of the act caught you off guard, but you couldn't help but chuckle inwardly at her unconventional choice.

But before you could dwell on it further, another unwelcome interruption barged in - a man intruded, his clammy hand squeezing your shoulder in a gesture that oozed familiarity and arrogance. His filthy remark elicited a forced laugh from you, masking your true feelings with a discreet eye roll as you struggled to maintain composure amidst the facade of civility.

As the dinner dragged on, the clatter of a scrapped fork against a plate echoed through the hall, punctuating the monotonous rhythm of polite conversation. A toast was raised, and people began to beg for release from their seats, eager to escape the suffocating formality of the evening and make their way to the building across the street—the Myoui firm.

Your feet dragged reluctantly toward the exit of the dinner hall, the promise of freedom beckoning as you retrieved your coat from the coat check. Amidst the bustling crowd, voices clamored with “may I”s, and you felt men pushing you around, each trying to approach a certain person—Mina, or perhaps, you.

They tried so desperately to be courteous, offering you an umbrella, but you declined all their offers; it was just a short walk, after all. As you reached the door, the sound of pouring rain greeted you, a dreary backdrop to the evening’s events.

Then, amidst the chaos, you heard the urgent clacking of heels on the ground, and before you could react, an arm looped around yours.

“May I?” Mina whispers, her breath warm against your ear as she moves a stray lock of hair from her face, opening her umbrella to shield you both from the downpour.

“Should you?” you respond, locking eyes with her as the weight of the situation settles upon you.

The prospect of stepping out into the rain together, arm in arm, would undoubtedly fuel the rumors swirling around the two of you, rumors you weren’t sure you were ready to confront just yet.

Mina’s disapproving click of her tongue and the pursing of her lips signal her impatience with your hesitation.

“You’ll be soaked,” she remarks, her tone firm as she steps ahead, her arm tightening around yours, urging you to follow her and cross the street.

She leads you towards her building and you can’t help but let out a sigh of frustration. The sight of the press and paparazzi waiting eagerly outside only adds to your irritation. Their barrage of questions about the rumored merger between your firms and the future of the rival companies feels like an invasion of privacy.

Mina, ever the picture of grace under pressure, gives her best smile and navigates her way through the crowd, the rest of the dinner attendees following closely behind. But you can’t muster the same enthusiasm. Your annoyance is palpable as you trudge through the throng, barely managing to summon even a hint of a smile.

The attendees follow Mina’s lead as they enter the building, chatter filling the air with excitement and anticipation for the cocktail event. She gracefully addresses the associates and workers, informing them of the location of the soirée on the highest floor and assuring them she’ll join the night soon after sorting out contract matters. You let out a hum of acknowledgment, preparing to join the others, but before you can make your escape, Mina’s hand darts out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip.

"Follow me," she says, her voice soft but stern, halting you in your tracks.

"Mina, please, I just wanna get this over so I can go home. I really don’t wanna negotiate right now," you huff, your tone pleading as she guides you through the halls of the building. The chatter from the others fades away as she unlocks a door with a keycard.

She scoffs, "trust me, you're not the only one who feels this way, y/n." With another swipe of the keycard, you step into a private elevator, the only floor listed as "CEO Myoui Mina."

The ride up is surprisingly quick, and you can't help but marvel at the lavishness of Mina's building compared to yours. It even takes you aback when the elevator doors slide open, revealing the 50th floor—her office, which could easily pass for a penthouse, offering a breathtaking view of the city.

She tosses the umbrella into a basket, then removes her fur coat. Extending her hand, she gestures for you to hand over your coat, before placing both garments on a hook.

You look at her, arms crossed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle in. You just want to go home. She walks over to the bar, pouring two glasses of wine before returning and offering you one. You decline with a shake of your head.

“What did you bring me up here for?”

She takes a sip of her wine, contemplating for a moment before addressing the rumors head-on. "What do you want to do about them?" she asks, her gaze steady as she waits for your response.

Rolling your eyes, you walk up to the large window, gazing down at the drenched cityscape below, raindrops streaking the glass.

“To be honest,” you begin, “I just want to do my work in peace. I don’t want the press after me.”

Mina joins you at the window, her expression softening. “I understand,” she replies, her voice gentle. “But we can’t ignore this. We need to address the rumors before they spiral out of control.”

"We could ignore it. Let it die down-"

“Can I be honest?” Mina cuts in, her fingers gently brushing against yours as she takes a step backward, settling onto the edge of her desk. “I wouldn’t be opposed to merging with your firm. I think we could be very powerful together.”

“I appreciate your candor, Miss Myoui,” you say sarcastically, a scoff escaping your lips. “I don’t know what you heard about me, but I’m not someone who’s easy like your other associates.”

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be like my other associates,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry, her eyes shamelessly tracing along your figure.

You draw nearer until you’re barely inches apart, a scowl tainting your features. In the charged silence that envelops you, a silent protest forms: Just because Mina is attractive, intelligent, and charming doesn’t mean she can toy with you like this.

“Mina-”

“You know we could accomplish a lot together,” she smiles, her charm radiating like a magnet drawing you closer. Her fingers tap lightly against her wine glass, a teasing rhythm that matches the quickening pace of your heart. As she speaks, her other hand ghosts over your thigh, sending a thrill coursing through your body.

You watch, transfixed, as she spreads her legs slightly, the slit in her navy blue silk dress riding up just enough to reveal a hint of skin. It’s an invitation you can’t resist, and you step between her legs, the heat of her proximity sending a surge of desire coursing through you.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” you say, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips as you take the glass from her hands and set it aside. “But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?” You tilt your head slightly, your gaze locked with hers.

Mina nods, her hands now at the back of your thighs, her nails digging in slightly, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “For now,” she says, her voice low and tantalizing, “let’s focus on the present moment, yeah?”

Her touch sends a shiver down your spine as her hands trail up to your waist, squeezing gently. You reciprocate, trailing your fingers up her arm to her jaw, then to the back of her neck, where you play with the baby hairs there.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, your eyes locked with hers, searching for any hint of what’s going on in her mind.

“You,” she whispers, as she bites her lip, a hint of desire flickering in her eyes. “I can’t deny it, you’re always on my mind.”

A surge of heat courses through you at her words, and you lean in closer, your breath mingling with hers. “And you,” you reply huskily, your voice low and filled with longing, “have been occupying my thoughts more than usual lately.”

With a smile playing on her lips, you lean in, pressing a tender kiss to Mina’s cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. Your hand trails behind, gently cradling her jaw, holding her close.

She responds with a soft sigh of pleasure, turning her head to meet your gaze. With a tender affection that melts your heart, she pecks your palm gently, her lips lingering against your skin.

Your hand firmly grasps her hip, pulling Mina closer as your lips collide in a hungry, wet kiss. Urgent and fervent, tongues glide and teeth tug at lips, eliciting soft moans that slip out between desperate breaths.

With a low growl of desire, you feel Mina’s fingers boldly grip your ass, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

“Mina,” you gasp, your breath catching in your throat as she shifts her attention to your neck. You whimper softly, unable to contain the pleasure that courses through you as she leaves open-mouthed kisses on your skin, her lips trailing a path of fire along your neck.

A sharp bite causes you to moan loudly in response. Mina pauses and you catch your breath. Another quick kiss to your swollen lips leaves you yearning for more, and before you know it, she’s pushing you back onto her office chair.

You watch, transfixed, as she scoots back slightly on her desk, her movements deliberate and enticing. With a seductive glance, she widens her legs, rising up her dress to reveal her hips, the fabric riding up tantalizingly. The sight leaves you breathless, your heart racing with desire as you eagerly await her next move.

The sight of the wet patch on her baby blue lingerie sends a surge of arousal coursing through you, making you hold back a moan as you huff with desire. You roll towards her eagerly, intent on feasting on her wetness, but before you can reach her, a sharp heel digs into your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat as you look up at Mina with wide eyes, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless.

With a sultry smirk, she leans forward, the heel pressing into your shoulder as she whispers, “You can’t touch before you say please, baby.”

Her words make you clench around nothing as you realize the game she’s playing. You swallow hard, your voice thick with desire as you utter the words she’s been waiting to hear.

“Please, Mina,” you whisper, your body trembling with need. “Let me touch you.”

Mina chuckles softly, “you gotta start being polite,” she teases, her voice dripping with mischief as she toys with you, relishing in the power she holds over you.

“Please.”

“Good. You can have a taste, y/n.”

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