#saint x novel | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

futurecorps3 · 11 months

Note

Hiii, could you write a nikokai fic where reader is like in love with kaz but he doesn't really pay attention to her. And then the crows meet sturmhond because of a heist and he takes interest in the reader form the first moment he sae her and makes her fall in love with him. And then whatever you want lol. Maybe kaz being jealous idk.

Sorry for any grammatical mistake, english it's not my first language.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞

Masterlist<3

Summary: After years of being in love with the one and only Kaz Brekker, breaking her own heart, Y/N meets someone else... Pairing: Sturmhond x fem!inferni!reader, Kaz Brekker x fem!reader

Warnings: The usual crow violence, DRINKING, jealous Kaz, mean Kaz, "unrequited" love for a little while, Matthias is alive and well like in the books duh but this is ofc before Nikolai becomes king, idc I just want my Fjerdan hunk happy in Ketterdam, curse words, kind of a messy timeline. HURT AND NO COMFORT. Lmk if I missed any.

Word Count: 2.9K!! Requested: Yes

A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! :( I've been looking forward to getting to this specific request because oh my god, also, I changed it up a little; making Kaz actually be in love with reader but never really trying anything. Tysm for requesting love! Hope you enjoy :)

˚ · • . °

Exhaustion. That's what she felt, and to be honest, it was even more frustrating when Y/N knew she was doing it to herself. Those persistent yet futile attempts at reading Kaz's silence or gaze as something else; a love message, a confession of his sins, any sign of vulnerability reserved for her. However, these attempts, though fervent, ultimately proved fruitless.

How could she confirm what she thought she saw if, after, say, he appeared distressed at her being in danger or fumed when some dick was being extra disgusting at the bar that night; he went back to being his usual cold self?

When she finally obtained concrete evidence that disproved her misconceptions ("Jesper, she prefers black coffee" or "Y/N, could you join me in my office for a moment?" simply to spend time together in quietude), he strategically distanced himself throughout the week, transforming those precious moments of tranquility and companionship into ordinary occurrences, leading her to, somehow, misunderstand them.

Another shot of vodka and the pain her thoughts evoked was replaced by the burning, bitter sensation in her tongue and throat. "A hangover won't make Kaz let you stay behind tomorrow, you know that?" Matthias smiled next to her.

Since he joined the crows, the Fjerdan had taken a special liking to his girlfriend's best friend; she was funny, kind hearted and could keep up his pace in drinking games. Nina couldn't be happier to see her loves get along so well, saying it's her dream come true. "Oh don't even start, Matthias" Y/N answered, feigning annoyance as she poured more of the burning liquid into her glass and pulled out another for her friend.

They silently toasted to nothing in particular and chatted about their books as they usually did. Matthias' romance novel had an interesting love triangle Y/N was eager to read when he was finished. From how he talked about it, the girl knew it was just her type of story. They were in the middle of a playful argument about a plot-hole Y/N thought she found when Kaz approached them.

His usual demeanor seemed a bit... shaken. If you asked the blonde, he'd say he only looked more agitated, but Y/N/N knew better; his hair was covering his forehead slightly, but he wasn't brushing it back. The limp was prominent still, yet he wasn't using his cane. Kaz was in a rush to get to her, maybe?.

"One of your fellow countrymen is starting a turmoil outside, doesn't speak Kerch. Will you please, for the tree's sake, go and talk some sense into his thick blonde skull?" Saints, why did she like him so much? Even like that, Y/N thought he looked rather divine. Matthias stood up from his seat and directed himself to the entrance.

"Since when do you care for what happens outside that door?" She asked with a grin, genuinely curious. "I wouldn't if he wasn't scaring off the pigeons. No wealthy tourist will endure the trouble that some drunk Fjerdan means just to get inside a place full of people that'll take his money" the boy explained, looking down at her.

Kaz's complexion, kissed by the soft glow of the candles, is pale yet flawless, as if untouched by the harshness of the world he inhabits. His sharp, well-defined features give him an air of enigmatic sophistication, further heightened by the way the light dances upon his cheekbones, emphasizing their elegant structure.

Y/N realizes she's staring. She looks away.

The bastard smirks. "Finding something intriguing, are we?" And oh, she wanted to stab him to see if that would wipe the stupid grin he carried. "Oh, please, Kaz. You give yourself too much credit. I was merely lost in thought, contemplating the mysteries of the world. Your face happened to be in the line of sight, that's all."

Quick, sarcastic answer, as if the seconds between her silence confirmed even further what he was saying. He scoffed, drinking the remains of alcohol on Matthias' glass and fixed his hair in the process. "Stop drinking, a hangover won't spare you from our meeting tomorrow".

˚ · • . °

She should've listened. The crashing waves outside only intensified the discomfort, while the salty breeze seemed to carry a tinge of regret. Even the beauty of the sea she was now too used to felt distant and inaccessible, overshadowed by the haze of her post-indulgence remorse.

Nina, taunting Matthias with a mature Ravkan song and Jesper shooting bottles in the warehouse, created an uneasy atmosphere for hungover Y/N. This unsettling environment made it difficult for her to focus on evaluating any potential deals they were to discuss with the privateer Kaz said they were meeting that day. Also, they had been waiting for over an fifteen minutes now! She was surprised Kaz was waiting still.

He checked his pocket watch subtly, sighing at the tardiness of their Ravkan guests. Then, he looked over at Y/N. Even with those deep baggy eyes and with her head on her hands in exasperation, she managed to awaken that odd feeling in his chest. He hated it. No, he despised it.

If he ever accepted that he was down hard for the girl, he could also get over the fact that she, too, liked him. Well, he wasn't dumb! There was no denying that Y/N's actions warmed his heart. He just knew loving was a dangerous thing to do, a weakness he couldn't afford after spending years building a reputation in Ketterdam.

Then came a loud bang on the heave wooden doors of the warehouse. "Fucking finally" Y/N sighed, going to open the door herself before anyone would, wanting nothing but to end this as soon as possible so she could go back home to sleep. She grabbed the handle and pulled, the bright light outside blinding her momentarily before seeing the privateer and his crew.

"Hello gorgeous! Here to see Mr. Brekker. I'm guessing you're one of his associates?" A sharp, slightly deep voice greeted. The girl shielded her eyes from the light and found captain smily offering his hand out. In Ketterdam, rumours ran as quick as blood on pavement; Sturmhond knew that. He needed no introduction. Every person involved in not so legal activities who didn't live under a rock had heard at least once about the dog of the sea.

She took it, shaking gently. "Y/N Y/L/N, but if you prefer nicknames, call me Haepha". Then she stepped aside, pretending not to notice the smirk on Sturmhond's face so his partners could come in. The rumors hadn't done justice to his captivating presence.

The charismatic privateer stood tall, his dark hair falling in unruly waves that added to his allure. His piercing blue eyes seemed to hold a world of secrets, and a mischievous smile played across his lips. Dressed in opulent garments that exuded confidence and flair, Sturmhond commanded attention with every step as his crew and he approached the rest of the crows.

"I'll stick to your name for now doll, too pretty not to use," And the bastard winked at Y/N, making a Shu girl who was walking behind him with the same confidence giggle. The worst thing about pretty men is they know they're pretty, and knew damn well how to get away with being cocky. She knew his type, so she brushed the wink off and walked towards her friends.

Kaz and Sturmhond shook hands. Everyone who was fast enough grabbed a seat in old boxes or even on the floor. Jesper offered Y/N his seat, knowing that the vodka she drank last night was no merciful rival, and stood behind her alongside his boyfriend. Inej lingered sitting in a window near them as Matthias and Nina remained standing, contrary to all the privateers' team.

Kaz started making introductions, all a mere formality, Y/N knew. "You've met Y/N, our inferni. Behind him are Jesper, sharp-shooter, and Wylan, our demo-man. The blonde wall-resembling man over there is Matthias, and Nina is a heartrender. Inej in the window, our Wraith" he pointed, everyone nodding or waving at the dark-haired man.

"A Wraith alright, didn't notice you were there sweetheart!" He pointed out and then introduced the twins; Tolya and Tamar. As well as Anya and Andrei, who were two members of his ship's company who wanted to come by and see who they were working with. When that was taken care of, plans were strategized by both leaders and positions were given to each member.

Y/N knew Kaz was characterized by having plans from A to Z for very elaborate heists, but even this one seemed out of his reach, almost too ambitious. But if Sturmhond's name lived up to the myth, nothing was quite impossible for him and Kaz's love for money could get him to plot even the tiniest detail.

Their objective this time was to steal some kind of jewel called "the moon's tears". It was a gem said to be worth four million kruge, to be bargained for even more; the crows' biggest heist yet. The vault it was in was widely known for its impenetrable security measures, including seemingly impenetrable barriers, intricate lock mechanisms, and a team of highly skilled guards.

Those two were absolutely insane! Even before one considered the noble who owned the vault and therefore the gem they were trying to steal, knew Kaz from the past. It was an extremely peculiar coincidence that a masquerade ball was taking place some distance away from the location of the vault, which represented the perfect opportunity for the work.

This would allow them to exploit the lack of security and sweep the gem away. Nina would ideally take care of the distraction, to keep the nobleman from returning home too quick, but her heartrending abilities would be helpful to make a quick work to make the few officers guarding the vault doze off.

So it became Y/N's job. A job she was to complete with Sturmhond.

After the meeting ended and Y/N's headache had worsened, a deep voice was heard from behind her. She turned to find the charming privateer flashing a smile at her. "Looking forward to working with you, darling" He commented, offering his hand out and all. She took it and shook half-heartedly, eager to just go home and sleep for the rest of the evening.

"Me too, handsome" Irony laced in her tone. "Doesn't seem like it, you alright? You look like a ghost. Lovely, yes, but still ghostly" The comment made her smile, tightening the grasp on his hand but not shaking anymore "Just hungover s'all" "Told you so!" Jesper proclaimed from their side as everyone directed themselves to the door.

The privateer smiled sweetly. "Got any plans this evening?" "Other than rotting in my room until my body stops hurting? Not really. Why?" Y/N looked down briefly, realizing she still hadn't let go of his hand and then released her grasp "Well, if my days at sea have thought me anything other than how to read the stars..." he started, tapping the necklace with a star charm the girl sported.

A "gift" from Kaz (some jewelry that wasn't redeemed from a heist he let her keep). "...is how to cure a hangover. Mind coming with me to a bar? You can decide which". Going to a bar with a complete stranger who had a reputation of being in trouble most of the time and who she were to work with? Sure thing.

"Promise youll make it go away?" "Promise".

˚ · • . °

And what a plot twist he was. Jesper had jokingly said to the girl that she shouldn't take a privateer's word but he did termiante her hangover with some strange, black-ish liquid she didn't dare to ask the composition of. Then they drank more.

As the drinks arrived, they raised their glasses, the clink of crystal breaking the spell of their silent connection. Sturmhond smiled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "To new adventures and unexpected encounters," he proposed, his voice smooth and velvety.

Y/N couldn't help but return the smile, feeling the warmth of excitement spread through her veins. "To embracing the unknown," she replied, raising her glass in agreement. They took a sip, the flavors dancing on their tongues. A comfortable silence settled between them, allowing the sounds of the bar to envelop them. After a moment, Sturmhond leaned in, his voice low and captivating.

"So, Y/N, what brings you to this lawless corner of the world?". He asked, genuine curiosity lacing his words. Y/N's eyes sparkled as she recounted her journey, the challenges she faced, and the dreams that fueled her determination. Sturmhond listened intently, his attention unwavering, as if she held the secrets of a hidden treasure.

As she spoke, Y/N couldn't help but notice the genuine interest in Sturmhond's eyes. He asked thoughtful questions and shared stories of his own adventures, effortlessly weaving tales of daring escapades that left Y/N hanging on his every word.

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a seamless exchange of ideas, dreams, and aspirations. Time seemed to melt away as they delved into deeper discussions, finding solace in the connection they were building. Laughter intertwined with their words, a symphony of shared amusement and understanding.

They became lost in each other's company, entranced by the way their thoughts aligned and their hearts danced to the same rhythm. And as the night wore on, their conversation continued, their new found connection growing stronger with every passing moment.

She couldn't help but think of Kaz, when exiting the bar, and on the way back to The Slat. When would he ever, in a million years, make her feel so seen? How could he? He seemed to be nothing but cold and a bad type of confusing to the girl.

Y/N was not blind, either. Sturmhond was known for his endless romantic encounters with women across the sea, and he was interested in her. Now, she could not deny the guy was a charming boy too pretty for this Earth, sharp as a knife and, as she found out that evening, shared a lot of ideals and interests with her.

Could he maybe work as a rebound? Maybe. Would she shamelessly use him as that? Could be. Having his eyes on her that whole meeting was no coincidence, and she liked his attention. Maybe what mends a broken heart was a handsome privateer.

They agreed to meet up the next day, his treat.

˚ · • . °

Back at the Slat, Kaz was fuming. No, not fuming; seething. A bar outing? She just met him! He could not believe his eyes when they were talking hand in hand like they had known each other from a previous lifetime.

In the little time that had passed since (most of) the crows had returned from the meeting, Kaz had already gotten four drunks kicked out, death-stared a group of dregs twice so they'd shorten their break time to get them to work and downed four vodka shots.

Why was he this mad? She wasn't even his and as far as she knew; he had no intentions of being hers either. The boy couldn't be mad at her, but he was, and Kaz knew very well he was being a big selfish shit. He could not blame Y/N either; the bastard she had been crushing on gives no signs of interest but a privateer handsome as the devil shows up with his attention completely focused on her? Of course she'd fall.

He just hated that feeling.

It's presence looms, heavy and suffocating, wrapping its tendrils around the heart, constricting with an iron grip. It whispers sweet poison into the mind, distorting reality and fueling irrational fears. Like a tempestuous storm, it rages within, lightning crackling with envy, thunder rumbling with resentment. It paints the world in hues of green, tarnishing every joyous moment with a bitter aftertaste.

And then his heart sunk into the depths of his dark soul when he saw them walk in hand in hand. That was the first time Y/N had walked into a room and not looked for him, he noticed. She was laughing at something Sturmhond had said as they walked up the stairs until they reached the door of Y/N's room. He kissed her hand and she kissed his cheek.

The privateer then walked down the stairs, noticing Kaz staring.

"She's one of a kind, that one... Might stay a bit more after the job's done. See you tomorrow, Brekker"

The feeling was now leaving an empty, bottomless void in his soul. He bottomed his shot glass then poured another one.

˚ · • . °

Time kept ticking and the void intensified, but Kaz learnt how to deal with it.

He learnt how to deal with it when he kissed her after the job was done.

He learnt how to deal with it when Y/N took a break from the crows to leave with him for six months.

He learnt how to deal with it when she returned from her trip, beautiful tan skin and a diamond on her finger.

He learnt how to deal with it when he saw her crying herself to sleep because she missed him.

He learnt how to deal with it when she left for good.

He learnt how to deal with it when she was named queen of Ravka.

Kaz just learnt how to live with the shame and regret of not recognizing that the one thing he needed was right in front of him, hoping she'd have a place next to him.

˚ · • . ° .

Hi! Thank you so much for reading, hope you enjoyed:) I'm actually sorry for this one...

Remember, the best way to support writer’s works on here is by REBLOGGING WITH TAGS. I’d very much appreciate it if you did!

Thanks again, stranger. Hope you have a nice day<3

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO REPOST AS THEIR OWN/TRANSLATE/OR COPY MY WORK IN ANY PLATFORM OR SPACE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT CONSENT.

897 notes · View notes

starrbright · 4 months

Text

Carnality in Adoration

“I want to swallow you, have you melt into me and flow through my veins." The Vegetarian, Han Kang

Everything he feels seeping in. Surfacing from the depths of the beginning. It's heavy. Deeper than he thought he could have carried in such a short time. It's terrifying. He welcomes it freely.

Miya Osamu x Reader

Illustrations: Stephan Sinding, Adoration Max Švabinský

I've yet to read 'the vegetarian', but I am aware that the novel is quite horrific as others have said. And using the passage would be out of context, but I couldn't help it, when I saw that words while having this piece in my drafts, I knew i just had to do it.

Nearing 6k words. characters are in their late twenties. established relationship. fluff. smut.

all my y/n are fat and of color.

september 24, 2023, I began this and had to shelf it. And now December 19, I'm finally fucking done😭 spent a little lot of time in a coffee shop today just so to finish this and here it fucking is😭 had three black coffees and am so worn out and shaking. I'm so tired, you guys TT. Been so busy nonstop and I just had to fucking suck it up and finish this one, I hope you like it. A little treat for the holidays. Enjoy and take care!! 💐💌

@iwaberry, @mood-romantica, & @shaisuki my lovelies💘

God. Gods. Angels. Saints. To Osamu, he's unsure if he believes in them. Maybe he does. Maybe.

He's not religious, you've found him to be. But these days, he's making you question so.

Few days of being truly together. Blissful kisses. Sex here and there. He cares for you truly, you know and feel this. He feels for you. You never doubted him the very first moment he made himself known in your life.

From the ardor in his eyes that you saw by how entranced he was looking at you the first time you felt he felt for you. From how firmly but tenderly he always hold your hand to fall his lips on your knuckles before anything else. From the way his eyes closes as he does so, or even more so how he hold his gaze to you when he does it.

From how tired he is at the end of his work, he still makes you a fresh batch of your favorites before you see each other at the end of the day or night. From how you can see the light in his gray eyes whenever you happily eat his food.

You never doubted him, not even when he has yet to say those three delcaring words. He has already uttered such loving words to reflect it. Always. You never doubted him.

And how could you ever ever doubt him--as he has his big hand on your neck, his fingers grasping up until on your plump cheek to take your lips for his own. Drinking the wetness of your mouth to your sounds as he moves his lips and tongue against your own in a way that always has your chest heaving while he doesn't seem to be affected at all as he only hums deeply as calmy--a stark contrast to your soft whimpers, despite the hardness of his erection on your behind.

His big and strong hand holds the round of your stomach against the fabric of your top, him having you from behind is always a delight to him; all the fat and softness of what you have melts onto him, a welcome to the edges he has. A home he's found that he always enclosed with open arms.

A deep breath you let out from your mouth when he finally pulls away, mouths dripping with drools. Osamu takes his breath back by burying his face on your neck, nose and wet lips pressed so against on you, his air so hot on your skin. Hearts thundering against one another.

Finding your voice, before it further unfolds to resulting taking too much time. "We should go now." You say, a little breathy. It fell nothing to his ears.

What didn't fall nothing to your ears is a deep hum that contracted in his throat as his hand squeezed some of your fat on your belly. "Samu." You breathe. Both of you knowing what that all means. But it's always nothing to him. Yet you always still try. A game between you two. Almost.

His mouth begins to move, lips dragging greedily on your skin, the sweetness of what you routinely used melts in his palate. It fuels his need to taste you more, the very taste of you, always.

A hand of his on your neck goes wrapping around your throat firmly, fingers pressing down that your breath hitched as his mouth slides down to your shoulder. Having worn an off-shoulder top gave him access to all what he's doing right now. And you know you wouldn't be wearing clothes that shows skin as whenever this happens, you're always marked. He can't help it. He doesn't want to. To see all what he leaves on you always pleases him. A reminder you're his.

Osamu bites down on the supple flesh all over, wanting to feel the warmth and goodness of your fat in his mouth, inhaling and swallowing each bite, grunts and groans leaving him. He squeezes your throat and breast at the same time, resulting a strained whimper from you, the tightness of his hold on your throat contracts in you, heavy pain of pleasure there to going down your cunt.

"Stay still." He murmurs deeply in between the ministrations of his mouth on you as he squeezed your throat and breast again. It isn't a question nor plea. A command.

It has your cunt fluttering the same of your heart.

Pants of breath, slowly, you calmed your slight squirming against behind him, your right hand that was on his nape never leaves there holding onto him as lifeline. His arm around you that still holds your breast tightly began to squeeze you to him. His cock that was hardened the moment his lips met yours, tight against his pants, pressing on your ass twitching. Your short and tight skirt riding up higher, showing your cheeks, prettily hugged in your white stockings and black panties. "What you do to me." His dripping mouth now on your ear, low and breathy resonates through you, your body shuddering with a whimper once more. "Every. damn. time." He groans each hard hump he made on your ass-friction against his clothed cock and your thinly covered ass, so hot and strained.

His hand stays restraining your throat as the other slowly comes down between your thighs, squeezing you there before slipping his hand in and cupped your mound. Your body flinching slightly with a soft gasp leaving you. His face heavy on your cheek, minty breath reaching your nose and mouth. "Open your legs." A moan escapes you as he speaks, his demands always has you uttering sounds, whether it's the futile denial or meek obedience. At times like this, it's always both.

Your skirt rides up even higher as you opened your legs more, muscles in your limbs beginning to twitch as his palm stays cupping you. Two of his fingers pressing hardly on your cunt against your stockings and panty as he rubs you, wiggling them to squish in your folds, your clit being found and assaulted then. Your wetness spreading and seeps through. "Samu." You moan, your head lazily leaning on him, eyes turning heavy, nails lightly digging on the skin of his nape.

"Need me?" He asks as his tongue slides to the corner of your mouth, dragging that damn muscle to your cheek until to your ear, his saliva painting your skin--already knowing your answer. His digits being drenched by your slick the more he rubs your cunt. He just can't get enough of you. He never could.

"We need to go." It just pleases him more whenever you deny him, well, at least you try to.

And it always fails. ''Wrong answer." But it's the right one for him to keep going. It always is. It just makes his endeavors more pleasurable than it already is.

Just how could you doubt him when he now kneels behind you, his face etched on the back of your thighs, fingers gripping them tightly between your inner thighs. Nuzzling on your fat flesh all over. His eyes drinking in the above him, ass cheeks tight on your black panties against your stockings. He'd tear your stockings if he could and he could, easily so by just his teeth but he doesn't want to piss you off (he does, as always) he just knows you love the outfit you're wearing and he can't have his beloved sad at him. So he makes do with trailing soft kisses on you, his drool leaving of its little marks. Inching up his face by nuzzling on you again. Up, up, up until it reached your ass, nuzzling his face once more.

You have no choice but to stand the there and let him. His lips you feel, his hot breath, the littlest drop of his drools seeping in the thin material. Your hand finding its way to his hair, lightly gripping it as his own two grips your cheeks, spreading them apart. A gasp left you, "Samu-" Your cunt was suddenly licked, hard, tongue wide flat and dragged it slow until to the slit of your ass. Your slick thick on his tongue and he swallows with a guttural grunt, savoring what he can have for now. "How do you expect me to stop when you're fucking dripping."

His damn head buried beneath your ass, panties and stockings just tightly hang low under his chin—as he devoured your cunt from behind, still standing in your heels, no less.

Not a single drop was wasted. Limbs trembling and all as he still held a tight grip on you while he eases your high. His hands so gentle then as he put back on your clothes below you.

Suffice to say, your man was satisfied enough to let both yourselves go out already. And he was more than satisfied. Smug as hell as you sit besides each other along with his parents for a dinner, with his twin, no less—that you have no doubt the said bastard had a feeling something happened between you two before going to their family home. Atsumu can see it in Osamu's eyes after all, something like this is not new.

The lingering taste of your cunt still there in his mouth.

He's a man of unquenchable thirst.

And of selfishness.

You never miss the glint of immediate displeasure in his eyes when someone takes notice of you long enough for him to catch them. And certainly not when his arm secures around you more, and how could anyone miss the moment of him holding your face up to land a firm and long kiss on your mouth.

He's a man.

What can he do when someone is staring at you like he isn't there? And he does it proudly if not even pissed off. He just can't help it, really, even to your friends or closest ones. Seeing them near you, when he's with you, before you could free yourself from his grasp to greet them, his fingers twitch, his hold suddenly tightening—knowing you always greet them with a hug or a kiss on the cheek. It's nothing, but he can't help it.

And he couldn't help but be filled with that selfishness when you told him such a thing; that you'll visit your friend to another country, by yourself, no less. Even if it's only for a day. It filled him with dread.

But still, he allowed you, reluctantly so. You know he didn't want you to go, so you didn't. You didn't want to ruin your short trip while thinking of your man with the state you're both in.

Arguments, it rarely happens. That one wouldn't even count as one. A lesser misunderstanding. Jealousy. That much you already know of Osamu anyway. There's times when you almost feel giddy at his blatant displays of jealousy, but suppose the opposite to it is normal as well--just like right now.

As you sit alone on the floor of your apartment, while you paint, the night young--your heart heavy. And it skipped when you heard the door opened, those familiar heavy footsteps coming close.

As much as you wanted comfort, you weren't ready to see your man again. However, he is. As surprised as he was you were in your home....you didn't go—only then he realized, he messed up.

Osamu sighs as he walks in the living room, seeing your form there, quiet and unmoving but just the strokes of your paint brush, his steps grew light with each of it he takes as his heart sinks more.

There, he sits behind you, his arms immediately but gently as ever wraps around your stomach, hearing the soft hitching of your breath as he enclosed himself behind you, falling his face on your neck.

Your hand stops moving along the canvas, the paint brush just softly dangling between your fingers as you blankly stare at the colorful frame. His weight heavy on you as he holds you tight, yet your heart begins to unburden itself. You breathe, easing yourself as you feel the blues let go from you by his comfort. Gently laying your left hand on his arm and he let out a deep breath, holding you even tighter but so at ease. His breathing hot on your skin, the beating of his heart calm but deep and strong against your back. Silence remains as the long seconds passes by.

Osamu can be a man of words, he's not afraid nor hesitant to say what he thinks or what he truly means, but in this moment, he knows there's nothing needed to be said more than—"I'm sorry." His voice in a deep murmur.

Your head tuts aside gently, the blankness of your gaze melting soft as your hand on his arm then begins to merely caress him there. "I know." Is what you only say.

Osamu breathes out a hum deeply as he nuzzles his face on your neck, inching himself up to your chin to the side of your face, inhaling you. It's only been a mere day and yet he misses you so much. His heart begins to race despite the calmness of the moment, it never failed to do so whenever he holds you, but maybe an exception tonight as knowing his mistake was gracefully forgiven. Nevertheless, it took him a few more push for him to say his remaining gnawing thoughts. Fingers pressing on your stomach, his mouth beginning to caress your cheek. "Thank you for not going. And I'm sorry because of it." He tells softly in between in the trailing of his lips on you.

Your lips could almost smile but it didn't as they remain as calm, nonetheless, your eyes melt more and more to its fondness for him. Again, "I know." Is what you only say. Gently, your head falls to his own as he then stops kissing you to lean and nuzzle his head onto your own. Your caressing hand on him never stops, eyes closed and hearts near to beating the same way as silence made itself known again.

All that burdens you both fades into something more to be easily carried despite its heaviness.

Osamu speaks then, as softly, "Can you turn around?"

You did so, and now you face each other close while still sitting on the floor. His hands finding your own as he never breaks gaze with you, drinking you in at last once again. How he missed you, the amount of time to him is nonexistent.

"Are you alright?" He asks.

How deep his eyes for you always threaten you to look away, but you never do; seeing what you think you are, the parts of you that gnaws you--afraid of you to see that in his very eyes. And he does. He has before. And always will. Before you could turn your eyes away from him, you see the adoration in them, just as the first time you saw them in him, for you.

"I am now." You answer, your voice just as soft.

"When will you go again?" He asks once more.

Your gazes remains held, you couldn't bear to look away. "Maybe soon." You answer simply and he nods. Before he let go of your one hand, trailing it up to your neck so as to pull you closer for him to press a kiss on your forehead.

"Ya better bring home lots of souvenirs," he remarks, his face still close to you. You only laugh so breathlessly against his cheek and he smiles, his cheek rising against your mouth, few tears falling from your eyes and rolls down on him. His smile doesn't falter nonetheless. Happy you were both. "I missed you."

"'ve missed ya, too." He spoke clearly, before he pulls away lightly to take a look at you again. You gaze at each other once more, letting go of your held hands so as for him to cradle your face in his hands. His thumbs gently wiping your tears away.

He'll make it up to you. He doesn't need to say it because he will.

Your eyes stays as glazed while his own as calm and of that lazy look. The roughness of his hands sculpts against your tears stained chubby cheeks.

He doesn't know who to thank for such a blessing. To have a beloved gaze upon you like the way you give your eyes to him. But there you are anyways. So he figures, it's only you to thank for.

"Beautiful." Osamu spoke. It took a lot from you to not tear off your face from his grasp, let alone his boring gaze.

"Don't." You try. Of course, yet again, he didn't listen.

"Lovely." As a thumb of his softly glides on your lips.

"Stop."

"Pretty."

He strips you off with only his eyes, washing your doubts you didn't even know that was there. "Osamu."

"Mine." He murmurs as his thumb slides in your mouth, dragging it down gently on your teeth up front open, reaching until it presses on your tongue. Your mouth agape by the finger, your gaze close to turning little, your breath hitching. "Pretty." He breathes, his head tilting as his eyes never parts from you—sliding his thumb even further, "Like this." The smallest of whimper escaping you and you saw how his jaw clenched at that, a rough breathing sound following from his throat.

The view before him is new. Good. Saliva begins to gather more in your mouth, he feels and sees. He'd want to see you like that more often, satisfying to his eyes, a good way to keep his fingers warm as well. He keeps his finger pressing there, only staring at you, staring at how your drool pools more in your cavern, little drops of it escaping from your lips, rolling down to your chin.

Yeah, he'll really want to see and have you more the way he is doing right now.

And you can't deny the goodness of the slow moment you both are having. How you let yourself be gazed upon in such a way.

While Osamu's heart begins to waver of that steady rhythm the longer he made you remain in the state you're in. Everything he feels seeping in. Surfacing from the depths of the beginning of you both. It's heavy. Deeper than he thought he could have carried in such a short time.

It's terrifying. He welcomes it freely.

Slowly, he retracts his thumb, a thin line of saliva following and a sheet of it covers his finger as he lays it on just your chin--before he kisses you.

Slow and gentle. His first kiss of the day he takes, the first kiss you share after you both made up, the first kiss you share with the revelation found in him--unbeknownst to you. Osamu kisses you as if it was his last to be. He gives and holds his kiss deeply, lasting. A way to be heard of his specifically unspoken words for now.

However, you remain to be blissfully unaware of it; seeing this of nothing new as it's normal for you for him to be like that--and he knows. So it wouldn't be too long for him change that.

As you pull away, a little breathless, blinking the fluster away in your eyes. "I should fix this up and prepare for dinner." You said. Reluctantly but he doesn't let you feel it, he lets you free yourself from his arms as you stand up. Osamu keeps his eyes on you gather the art materials you've used.

As much as he would always praise what you create, as much as he'd always think it to be beautiful of whatever you make--the art is already before his eyes, not on the frame.

He does what he does whenever he takes you in, how an admirer would be in art gallery. Quiet. Intent. Deep.

Flesh rippling with every little move you make. Your round upper body snuggled well by your little top, breasts hanging free against the fabric, as well as showing a little of the fat of your tummy. Your bloomers too short and tight on you. A wonder for him. Your ever wide thighs. Dent and marks painted on your skin. Along that, he sees what his mouth and fingers left on you from before a few days. Even more beautiful with what he marks on you. He'll always prefer you to be marked by him.

"If you're done staring at me." Your voice breaks him out of his trance.

"I won't ever be." He replies simply.

A little laugh you echo at that while you walk back to him, now standing in front of him as he remains sitting there with his legs crossed on the floor.

You above him is divine to be. Maybe he's religious as he wonders so. At least when he gazes up at you while you look down upon him. A goddess of his.

Both of your hands comes to one another on your bodies; yours on his hair and face, while his on your legs. You'd be lying to yourself if you say you didn't like it when he's beneath you. At times like this, is where you question where he lies on higher beliefs--because the way he offers his eyes to you.....could be described as when one worships their divine being.

Osamu sees the little rose of your chest with your mouth parting ever so slightly, the gentle wonder in your eyes. He can't get enough of it.

Finding your voice, "What do you wanna have for dinner?" You asked, gently petting his hair and caressed his cheek.

A deep but short breath he took as he welcomes your doting on him. His fingers firmly caressing on your legs, slowly working their way up. "You know the answer to that." You wonder why you still asked.

You didn't roll your eyes instead you narrowed them, "I'm serious." It was hard to be as his hands crept up higher, reaching to your thighs, tingling sensations coming through.

He almost smiled. "So am I."

"You're so annoying." You sighed, raking your fingers through his hair. Such happiness in the little moment you both have.

Such happiness.

Maybe it was time.

"Osamu—"

"I love you."

Your voices met one another, his just with more.......conviction. You faltered. He didn't. He doesn't. He remains steeled just of his resolve.

The soft disbelief on you. You didn't know if you ever hoped for him to say it sooner, there wasn't anything bad if he didn't say it for the mean time either, but--the joy that blooms in you couldn't be brighter. Such simple words, how heavy it tolls on you.

Your hands gently cupped his face, still as silent you were, the words you were about to say now lost. Osamu nestles his head on your palms, never breaking gaze. He feeds off the awe you uncontrollably portray. He'll do anything so as to have you keep doing that only for him. The way your nose takes a breath, going from your mouth with your chest following as it rise, your voice remaining unfound. It's addicting to see those little things. and it's freeing to say those words, so he says it again. "I love you."

Heavily dazed but ever awake, your eyes never dare to blink, tears starting to sting, the walls of your throat threatening to crumble.

Osamu feels every little twitch. Feels it all. He wants more. He stays nestling his head on your palms, keeping his smile at bay with his unfazed look. "I love you." His voice now bright.

An ask to be answered.

Your tears fell, blinking slowly as you broke from your trance with a broken smile and breathless laughter. You cradle his face so lovingly as he held you the same. His arms tightly hugging your legs, hands gripping your thighs. Loved. And there your answer for him. with little more breaths, carrying the weight of all what you feel--"I love you." Voice almost to nothing from how breathless it was, nevertheless it graces his ears, finally letting his smile move on his lips.

"Again." It's sweet. Too sweet how you ever so slowly lit up as he said that.

"I love you." He can't stop himself from smiling more as you repeat them, his cheeks growing in your palms. Too rare. A smile of his that makes your heart hurt every time. Lips etched up lazily, little of his teeth showing.

"Again."

"I love you."

At the same time again.

You didn't think that his smile couldn't get bigger but it did. It's brighter than you ever seen before from him.

While he stays high in your gaze.

"I love you."

He now kneels, never tearing off his hold on you nor of his eyes. Osamu finds that there is glory in kneeling. And if there's anything Osamu loves more than food, it's winning. So he reigns in victory as he kneels before you.

So you let him have what he wants—his dinner.

Letting go of his face, he gently dives down on your legs, falling his lips there all over. "I love you," he murmurs with each breath he takes on your skin. "I love you." His hands squeezes your thighs repeatedly while your keeps caressing his hair. "I love you." His eyes began to flutter heavily, never stopping of working his mouth on you, dizzying himself by you. "I love you." He groans, his voice dragging deeply as he drags his face all over your flesh.

You could only look down at him as he tranced himself, look at him so fondly as he indulges himself, seeing him deeply enjoying of what he does—you let yourself feel all what you've been feeling since the moment he held you. Heat brewing in your belly, melting down into your cunt, slicking through your folds, soaking a little sticky patch in your panties.

It wouldn't be too long for him to feast upon it.

And he knows. Osamu already knew your body was working even before he began, his meal prepared for him. "Fuck, I love you." In a loud groan, he breathes as he pressed his face on your thigh again, firmly rubbing his cheeks there. His hands holding onto the back of your thighs goes up ever slowly to your ass--a deep hitch of breath you inhale. He slides in through your shorts and panties, fingers strongly massaging your ass cheeks, while he keeps making a mess down on you.

"Fuckin' love yer thighs so much," he swore, his voice gone rougher from his never ending groans that he moans. Although that much has been known between you both he never gets used to it, nor do you. Not when he relishes his teeth on your fat with each bite. It's almost no different from a beast breaking its fangs through its prey to feed.

His sheer thirst he strongly satiate has your cunt aching so much, but still, you let him enjoy more a little longer. Keeping in your plea with your breathy sounds of elation. And despite how deep Osamu is in indulging himself, he knows your needs, though that's in the back of his mind for now--eyes dead set on the abundant offering for him. The last feast he'll have for later.

A mistake of thought you had.

For now, he continues to worship your thighs. Thick trails of his saliva from strings to drops dribbling down. No territory left unexplored as he takes the back of your limbs as well. Your hands in his hair keeps on shaking, your lower body twitching, trying not to flinch away from him.

Even then, he only continues to repeat what he's been doing. Nuzzling and rubbing his face all over so harshly, inhaling roughly while he licks his tongue with each move. His groping hands on your ass not stopping as well. He's too much all at once. Standing again, no less.

If not for Osamu's strength, you would have been long lying on the floor. Still, he continues for more, your wordless whines for him to stop unheard, muted by his own hungry sounds.

By now you're a leaking mess, not of just your pussy completely soaked, but your limbs covered with sheet of sweat along with his drool everywhere. Even his face you see and feel that it's wet, of course, he couldn't care less. The flesh of your ass sore, thighs and legs all marked up, muscles already hurting.

In the short time of you and him being together, he was never this....eager, much more eager, that is. And he's only beginning. No mistake this time, you could already tell that when he actually begin you'll lose your damn mind--and you're about to.

As when you managed to pry off his face away from your thighs, your palms on his cheek again, looking at him. His hair so disheveled, pupils blown yet his eyes more droopy than usual, while he breathes so deeply and rough from his mouth, all over his face drips of his drool, his sweat and your own.

"My darling." You utter so breathily, a thumb of yours gently gliding on his chin to his lips, smearing the wetness on him there even more. So much for calming him down. If anything, he's getting worse. He's a babbling mess and when he's like that, there's no fight against it.

"Can I eat ya, angel?" He says as he keeps licking your thumb. The man has you gulping and breathing in the same state of his hunger with your awe to his needs. His want. "Please, sweetheart--need to have yer pussy s'bad. Can I, angel?" His eyes darted from your own to your cunt so close to his face.

Your breath and spit caught in your throat--you nod once. "Yeah, baby?" Your damn poor heart so tired from its jumping because of him.

He's already back at it. Kissing your thighs again before slowly pulling down your shorts--leaving you only in your panties, showing how damp your center is. "Fuck." He breathes in a rough groan as he beholds your mess.

"Only for me--"

"Always." Your voice managed to murmur amidst.

His gaze shooting up to you, as deeply. "I love you." He declared once again before he finally goes to his feast.

Never having yourself prepared for it.

Osamu's face buried up against your cunt, inhaling you so deep from his nose to his mouth, little slicks of your arousal he begins to taste, his soaked mouth wetting you more, eyes rolling back to his head. With your fingers immediately grasping on his hair, tightly pulling on it with a loud gasp flying out of you. Ever sensitive you are, and Osamu already so familiar with your body. Feeling how your clit twitches so slightly like a bunny's tail as his lips confines your cunt, his tongue stroking you so slowly, gathering his spit and your juices—before he gulps it eagerly deep.

"You've no idea how good you are for me." He says once he pulls away from you. He's a fucking dog. Heaving for breaths, it'd be no different if his mouth was foaming.

You have no response from that but could only look at him, already overwhelmed from his little start and yet wanting so much more. It goes by unsaid.

Samu's one hand goes to your panty, grasping around in the center and pulled the cloth up tightly, the line slitting through your folds and shows your hair painted of your wetness there. His teeth finding his lip as he does so, your clit and hole fluttering from the small but impactful tease. "Samu..." You whined, almost.

Not minding it, not caring from how you're gripping his hair, "So fucking pretty." He murmurs as he toys with your damn cunt by pulling on your panty continously. You'd gape at him for how almost ridiculous what he was doing if not of you finding it so good to see, let alone feel.

Your calls of his name just slipping out of his ears, continuing what he does. "Look at you." Barely a whisper from him as he let go of your panty, now laying his thumb on your slit to your clit, rubbing it against the wet fabric. You hissed a breath, bearing his not so tease, knowing how he can be just so entranced with what he does. "Fuck." He curses again while he keeps the pad of his digit rubbing hard on your cunt, before eyeing at the string of your slick from your mound to his thumb as he slowly stops.

Finally, your body eases in his hold, already worn out. "Shit--shit." You whisper to yourself, from your weakened state and knowing what was to come next.

You liked him below you as he praises you, yes, but you couldn't deny that were was so much struggle with his found liking for the specific position; having to bear the tiredness off yourself along with so much pleasure to it. Especially by how he was far into it. Your little hole parted open by two of his fingers as his tongue glides in halfway through your walls, while his lips suckles on your folds sloppily.

Osamu finds himself swimming in the ocean without a care for time, nor of anything, not even of your sounds of ache to come to finally be done, let alone how much you've been trembling in his hold. There's just so much to revel in his love for you through his worship. Such a thing should never be rushed just for the sake of satisfaction. He intends to grasp and freeze this bliss, for you to always have him engraved in the very depths of your being.

With hooded eyes, he looks up at you and sees how much of a mess you are. Still, he only remains the same of his slow but hard pace, only making the knot of your release just boiling as he keeps his tight hold on you, not even letting you move against nor away from him. But, seeing your continously flowing tears and hearing your endless whines, is very much of a reward for him anew. So, "Grind on me."

And that was all that it fucking took for you to finally break. Lost in your tiredness and ache for relief; you do what he said--grind on his damn mouth. Letting yourself use him so desperately, the way he wants you to. Your fingers have never let go of his hair from the start, pulling on it so much repeatedly while you move your hips and have your cunt drag hard on him.

He flows against your rapid waves easily, at last meeting your desperation by his unwavering conviction. No uncharted waters could prevent him from taking up eternity with you.

With enough time, from all he's doing and yours, you finally found yourself dropping to the highest edge of pleasure.

In a sea of one could suffocate—Osamu has never breathed so freely.

No, you could never indeed doubt him.

234 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 11 months

Text

Waning Moon.

Yan Giorno x F Reader. Commissioned piece.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, religions symbolism and codependency (???). Word count: 3k.

You don’t remember it being this difficult to stay up late.

As a child, the concept was so novel that the excitement alone sustained you. Streetlamps illuminated a world that fell into stasis until the sun poked its head over in the east, all creation held its breath in anticipation. You’d settle into this valley between loneliness and the closest you’d ever get to peace.

There was only you and that was frightening.

There was only you and that was comforting.

As an adult, staying up late requires intentionality, willpower, and caffeine. Lots of caffeine.

The allure of courting a silent relationship with the moon might not be as mystifying, but the charm isn’t entirely lost with age. It has remained constant while you endured an upheaval you never expected. Constants become anchors in an otherwise restless sea. Come what may, you know this for certain — the moon will rise every night over a villa whose doors don’t unlock at your behest.

Sighing, you shut the book in your hands and rub your eyes. You haven’t been able to retain any of the words on the pages. It reminds you of those late nights spent hunched over at your desk, diligently studying for the esame di stato. Whenever you began to doze off, you’d chastise yourself; this pertained to your future, after all. Never could you have fathomed your life would unravel the way it did.

It’s this bitter sentiment that makes you question what exactly you’re trying to accomplish here.

Is it boredom that’s encouraged this desire to stick your nose in Giorno’s affairs? Spite? You cannot say for certain.

For a week now (you presume, at least, keeping track of the days has lost its luster), the individual who uprooted your life has been notably absent. No matter how tumultuous his affairs were, he made it a point to at least join you for breakfast or dinner, if not both. Such is his wish to lend an air of normalcy to this dubious union. Lately, you’ve only seen him in passing, as if he were a specter haunting the hall and not the man who holds the deed.

What remained consistent, however, is his return to your shared bedroom to sleep. Physiological needs are the great equalizer. You don’t know how, but he can slip into bed without waking you. Had it not been for the wrinkled bed sheets and the lingering aroma of cologne come morning, you never would’ve known he’d been there.

You thought if you stayed up long enough, you might entertain a conversation that lasted longer than a few minutes. Morbid curiosity is a surprisingly strong motivator.

Unfortunately, reality rarely aligns with your hopes. It’s currently three in the morning and there’s been no sign of Giorno. You refasten your silk robe upon standing, appraising the master suite for some means to preoccupy yourself. It’s when your weary eyes land on the canopy bed that your resolve is tested. Really, what is it you’re trying to do? Have a heart-to-heart with the man who controls the country from the shadows? Get in a few more sarcastic quips before calling it a day?

It’s this challenge to your original design that has you walking over to your side of the bed.

That is, until your name is spoken by the door.

You freeze where you stand, feeling akin to a child caught with one hand in the cookie jar. You never gave much thought to if you’re breaking some unspoken rule by dilly-dallying all night. At the very least, Giorno wouldn’t appreciate the damage to your health. He’s never harsh with his chastising — if you can even call it that — but you’re in uncharted territory. A week of sleeping three to four hours could make a sinner of the most steadfast saint.

He repeats your name, likely assuming you didn’t hear him the first time, and you swallow thickly.

“I, um…” you trail off, playing with the ends of your hair, “I just felt like… walking around…?”

It occurs to you then that he never asked what you were doing, he simply said your name. This unprompted confession paired with your conspicuous body language paints you in a guilty light.

Silence hangs in the room.

You count the seconds as they trudge by — seven, eight, nine — each addition feeling as if they’re intensifying gravity. Threatened by the prospect of being crushed beneath this force, you pivot, forcing yourself to face him and better gauge your situation. A mannequin that’d just been brought to life would move far more naturally than you.

Turquoise eyes stare back. They’re inquisitive, maybe, but not scrutinizing. You visibly relax.

“So I didn’t wake you?”

You shake your head.

“Was there something you needed, then?”

You’re about to shake your head again when the clouds outside part.

Silvery shades flood the room and envelop Giorno’s side profile. It illuminates his countenance, from the soft curls of his golden hair to his rosy lips and sharp jawline. You’ve become familiar with his features throughout the years. That’s why the slightest deviation catches your attention, as if you were an antiquarian charged with determining if a piece of art were fake or genuine. His complexion is duller and bags are forming beneath his eyes.

“You look exhausted,” you remark.

“Isn’t that considered a rude thing to say to someone?” is his reply.

You frown at his lighthearted tone. He’s still wearing a suit, which means whatever he came back from was business related. From this distance, you feel there are details you’re still missing, so you close the gap. It’s unusual to be near Giorno — especially of your own volition — yet this burning need to make sense of things spurs you on. Standing before him, you narrow your eyes. He finds your behavior far too perplexing to speak.

You’ve always felt Giorno possesses an otherworldly quality that sets him apart from the common rabble, yourself included. This quiet magnetism, steadfast determination, and insightfulness forged from a life of having the odds stacked against him. Consequently, the fact he’s made of flesh and blood often eludes you. So ingrained in your mind is this concept of him being on a pedestal, high and untouchable as Michelangelo’s David. The present predicament is at odds with this lofty image.

His skin is warm when you take his hand in yours. So he isn’t made of Carrara marble, then.

Giorno does nothing to challenge your uncharacteristic boldness when you lead him to your destination. By your prompting, he sits on the bed’s edge, utterly transfixed on the link that connects your bodies. It’s like the simple contact placed a spell over him. You take a seat by his side, retrieving your hand while you do so. He almost reaches to take it back before thinking better of it.

“There must be something pretty serious going on,” you point out. “What is it?”

“It’s… a heavy subject matter. I wouldn’t want to unnecessarily burden you.”

You hold up your left hand for him. In doing so, the diamond on your wedding ring catches the moonlight and gleams. “Is this just for show, then? Marriage is about sharing burdens.”

He chuckles softly, though there’s a certain melancholy to the sound. “I thought you didn’t like to consider me your husband.”

“The Catholic Church frowns on divorce. Now, enough with trying to change the subject,” you maintain unwavering eye contact. “There are a lot of people who rely on Passione, and you, by extension. You keep the worst of things in check. I might have my… reservations about the specifics, but even I can’t deny that.”

Taking a deep breath, you add, “So, if talking might help you, then… talk. There’s too much at stake to get caught up in petty feelings.”

For a moment, he closes his eyes, contemplating. He’s always been one to indulge you whenever he can, especially since you rarely ask for anything.

“Alright. I’ll tell you on one condition, although I must insist on not getting into the details.”

You squirm in your seat. “And said condition is…?”

There’s a mischievous tint to his eyes when he reopens them. “Have you been waiting for me all night? Answer truthfully.”

“I haven’t—!”

“Truthfully, [First].”

You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “... Yes.”

Instead of teasing you, as he enjoys doing, he gives you a gentle smile. The kind he reserves solely for you. He squeezes your hand but doesn’t allow his touch to overstay its welcome. He could take so much more from you and still, he exercises restraint. Is it because it’d shatter the illusion that he was doing all of this to ‘keep you safe’ if he acted on carnality? His commitment to the farce is almost enough to convince you.

“Thank you, regardless of whatever the reason for it may have been,” Giorno’s sincerity is undeniably stirring. This is the Don of Passione — a man who can win over the undying loyalty of others within a single conversation. Falling into his rhythm is as easy as breathing, he sets such an enticing tempo.

“You aren’t going back on your word, are you?” You challenge, wanting to distract yourself from this budding feeling in your chest. Whether it be resentment or apathy, he’s capable of chipping away at the walls you form before you realize what’s happening. It should be simple, in theory. Loathing the man who took your freedom and never plans to give it back. It should be very simple.

But when he looks at you as he does now, like he’d reach into his chest and tear out his heart if only you asked, you’re at a loss.

“Giorno? What is it?”

His pupils dilate when his name leaves your lips. This spacing out is unlike him, he’s the keenest person you’ve ever met. It’s the reason why you’ve never been able to get one over him. You’re about to snap your fingers in front of his face when he clears his throat.

“Ah, it’s nothing, just… well… every time I look at you, every time you speak,” he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “I learn what it’s like to fall in love all over again.”

Heat rises to your cheeks and stays there. Exhaustion must be lowering his inhibitions, you can’t fathom him saying this otherwise. The sentiment is always there, playing softly in the background, but now it’s at a volume you can’t drown out. You shiver all over. This is a man who’d make an enemy of the world if it meant winning your favor. Such intensity, such raw attachment, bewilders and leaves you unable to form words.

Seeing the goosebumps on your forearm, he shrugs his wool blazer off and drapes it over your shoulders. His body heat consumes you.

“And of course I won’t go back on my word — not with you. Some setbacks that we thought were coincidences are occurring too frequently to be written off. The natural conclusion is that there’s a mole somewhere in the upper ranks. This betrayal… or the beginnings of one… resurfaces some memories. I intend to see to it quickly.”

As he warned, you’re receiving a sanitized version of the events, but it’s enough to dispel your curiosity. You jump on the chance to move past his unexpected confession. The tender words threatened to give new life to emotions that are better off dead.

“Be as that may, you’ll be no good to anyone if you don’t get enough sleep.”

“I’ve been taking naps when the time allows.”

“That isn’t good enough,” you protest. “You might have youth on your side, but that doesn’t mean you can’t work yourself into an early grave. Properly caring for yourself is a part of the job.”

Giorno seems to find your insistence amusing. He covers a smile with his hand, laughing lightly to himself. It’s during these displays of boyish charm that his many daunting titles melt away. You’re forcefully drawn back into the rose-colored days of your fledgling love, when his true identity remained a secret, and you saw only what he wanted you to see. What you wouldn’t give to rewind time and relive it again. Long walks on the beach with the Tyrrhenian Sea’s mist kissing your cheeks, morning dates at your favorite caffé where you’d tease him for always ordering the same drink… it was paradise in more ways than one.

Alas, once you’ve been forcefully ejected from the Garden of Eden, the gate to return is shut for eternity.

When Giorno recomposes himself, he breaks the silence.

“I’m truly grateful that you haven’t changed.”

“Hm?”

You tilt your head. That wistful expression of his punctures your heart, no matter how hard you try to turn the organ to stone.

“I was prepared for anything. For you to curse me, hate me. I anticipated and accepted the possibility. What I feared most, though, was the thought of you losing what makes you… well, you. It’d be understandable, given the circumstances, but… the warmth you radiate is as strong as ever. I’m glad.”

Unable to withstand the weight of his gaze, you avert your attention to your lap, head hanging low.

“That’s a selfish thing to want, considering everything.”

If it hurts you to say it, you can only imagine how it makes him feel.

He inhales sharply. “I know. I’m plenty selfish when it comes to you.”

This admission takes you aback. Never has he been so forthcoming about his motivation, not without interweaving sugary sentiments to make the sour truth more palatable. There was always a convenient excuse. That your romantic relationship with him puts you in danger, how this arrangement is to ensure your safety, on and on the list of sickeningly sweet platitudes would go. The puzzle pieces he provided never fit properly.

The word ‘selfish’ completes the otherwise unfinished picture.

“You were right. Talking to you does help,” Giorno admits. By the way he says it, you’d think you had just magically solved every problem and tied it up in a bow.

“Honestly, I don’t think I did much of anything.”

He sighs at that. You could insult him at the top of your lungs and he wouldn’t flinch, but the moment you’re the least bit critical of yourself, he takes it as a personal offense.

“Not many people are willing to scold me for not taking care of myself. In fact… you might be the only one,” he muses.

Your heart sinks and you curl your hands into fists. The nails digging into your palm may hurt, but it’s nothing compared to the ache of your soul. For all he knows about you, Giorno Giovanna is almost an enigma, as far as you’re concerned. The most minuscule acts of kindness stuck out to him like glittering treasures. When you made him home-cooked meals, called him to ask about his day, picked up on the changes in his mood; there’d be this aura of reverence about him.

How must a person grow up to be in awe of what you’ve always considered to be the bare minimum?

“On the topic of being selfish, there is something else I want.”

Perhaps in your sentimentality, you’ve been spoiling him too much.

“What do you— eek!”

Strong arms secure themselves around your form and pull you in close. Your eyes widen, lips parting to release protests that never form. Giorno’s body may seem lithe, but he has no issues maneuvering your body as if you were a ragdoll. Still, he treats you with the utmost care, rubbing his hands over your back in a soothing motion. You’re certain if you made a fuss, he’d let you go. You can’t find the motivation to do so. The two of you are exhausted, for reasons that differ and overlap.

While you don’t reciprocate his embrace, you don’t try to wriggle out of it. This is reason enough for him to tighten his grip.

… Indeed, he is acting rather spoiled.

“Are you fed up with me?” He asks.

“I’m slowly getting there.”

You feel his chest rumble when he chuckles. “Bear with me just a while longer, then.”

His lips brush over your forehead in a daring kiss. Your muscles go taut and your heart hammers hard enough that you can hear it. He allows himself to linger there a while longer, though he makes no attempts to repeat the act. Instead, he soaks in your presence, each second worth its weight in gold.

“Giorno?”

He hums, showing you have his rapt attention.

“About what you said earlier,” there’s a tremble in your voice you can’t hide, owing to the tightness in your throat, “I haven’t ever hated you. I… I don’t think I can.”

His breath hitches.

“But… I do know I can’t love you the way I used to either.”

“Do you want to?”

“Sometimes.”

“And that scares you, doesn’t it?”

“... Yes.”

Giorno knows you from the inside out. Everything you consist of, from your best to your worst qualities, he’s seen it all. If you ever broke, he could rebuild you again from memory alone. That’s why despite everything, being vulnerable around him comes naturally. Caring about him too, no matter how you try to twist your reasoning to make yourself feel better. Once you’ve given someone your heart, taking it back in its entirety is impossible, some pieces will remain in their possession.

“It’s alright, no matter what conclusion you arrive at,” he decides. He buries his nose in the crown of your head. “So long as you’re alive and well, I can accept anything.”

Much to his surprise, you rest your head against his chest, the strength to hold yourself upright steadily draining. He readjusts his hold to ensure you’re as comfortable as you can be.

“It must be sad, thinking the way you do.”

From how little a reaction he gives, you almost think he didn’t hear you.

“A little,” he admits after a thoughtful pause. “Being without you, though… that’d be far, far worse.”

If reentry to the Garden is denied, then he’ll replicate its beauty to give the impression you never left.

#giorno x reader #yandere giorno x reader #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #yandere x reader #yandere jjba x reader #yandere #yandere giorno giovanna x reader #commissions #my stuff

438 notes · View notes

suiana · 10 months

Note

So I have seen most of your yanderes being males how about a female yandere just for the funni. Like I really just wanna suck some milky tits 🤤

(you can ignore it if you want to)

I love women, reader is kinda dumb but that's ok because reader is based of me when I see a hot woman

yandere! cosplayer x gn reader

"would you like me to do... this instead?"

you blush as she pushes her tits up against your chest. why wouldn't you? you were in an extremely sexual interaction with a super hot girl right now! and she's even dressed up as bayonetta! a character you absolutely love and adore! you'd have to be a saint to not combust on the spot.

plus this cosplayer was one of your favourites, her stunning cosplays whisking you off your feet with every picture she posts. today, you managed to meet her at a convention she's said that she's attending. you managed to find her amidst the crowds and luckily for you, she noticed your prescence.

though it was a little weird that she knew so much about you. I mean, she knew your name, when you'd be visiting, and practically everything about you! it's so weird! because your all of your profiles are on private and you've never talked to her, not even once! but who cares am I right? she's hot so it must just be a coincidence haha!

you had just wanted to get a picture with her, maybe a hug or two. but she had other plans apparently. pulling you aside, dismissing all of her other fans, it was like you were her lover. and weirdly enough, she even encouraged it when others called you her lover. like??? hello??? you two literally just met???

you couldn't understand it. not one bit. but to be honest you didn't mind. she probably has no bad intentions either way so it's alright to just go with what she wants.

though you didn't expect to be rizzed up like this. her gently carressing your face as she whispers about how much she loves you... wait is this a fanfic novel come to life?! your face was burning hot as you stared at the attractive cosplayer with wide eyes.

you couldn't move your body, too confused, horny and attracted to your favourite cosplayer confessing her love for you. wait, she knew you all this time and decided to start cosplaying to get your attention?! she hacked the algorithm to allow her posts to show up on your feed?! what?!

your mind was a mess, but so was the thing between your legs because god damn you did not expect for such a hot and sexy woman to be interested in someone like yourself. I mean, yeah you were hot but still!

meanwhile, the smitten cosplayer silently chuckled as she pinned you against the wall, her alluring eyes staring down at you. you were just so cute! so adorable~ she just couldn't help herself!

"everything I do is for you... I love you~"

she cooed, watching as your face continued to redden in embarrassment. god, she's thankful she found salvation in you. for if she didn't, she would never have experienced the love and joy of loving someone so adorable.

#tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere cosplayer #yandere cosplayer x reader #female yandere #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

396 notes · View notes

formulaorange · 7 months

Text

2023 Fall Anime

This is honestly a loaded season full of new shows based on relatively new manga. Lots to look forward to

Spy x Family - Season 2 One of the most fun SJ series that have come out in a while. Season 1 was killer, high hopes for season 2.

Goblin Slayer 2 I didn't realize they were even making a second season. This was such a killer series. I'm really hoping they don't fall into the many mid-tier fantasy tropes out there in anime right now. I thought the appeal of the show was really Goblin Slayer himself and less about the lackeys along the way. So we'll see how it goes.

Frieren: Beyond Journey's End This is definitely one of my highly anticipated series. It's about an elf who was part of the Hero's party and her life after he dies. (Since elves live longer) Definitely a darker take on fantasy but has some really solid fantasy and adventure vibes.

Rising of the Shield Hero - Season 3 Season 2 was pretty disappointing and slow. While this looks like it'll be more fast paced, it does look like a tournament arc of sorts. I know some aren't a fan of that kind of arc, but honestly I think it's exactly what this series needs to pick things up again. We'll see.

The Faraway Paladin - Season 2 This was legitimately one of my favourite fantasy series. I thought it was really well written and didn't rush things like other series. I'm looking forward to this season.

Sequels/Continuations: Eminence in Shadow - Season 2 killer series with an anti-hero main character. Definitely worth checking out. After-School Hanako-Kun Hanako-kun spin off Dr. Stone Season 3 - Part 2 One of the best novel concept series with nothing else in it's genre to compare to. Definitely didn't drop the ball on the recent seasons and still worth watching. Dead Mount Death Play - Part 2 One that I didn't particularly enjoy, but has a decent sized manga following. Tokyo Revengers - Tenjiku Arc The continuation of the series. Might be just me but it feels like the series fell off after the first season. The Saint's Magic Power is Omnipotent - Season 2 A more mature take on fantasy isekai that just started to get into romance at the end of last season. A solid combo of shoujo genres. The Ancient Magus' Bride - Season 2 Part 2 One that I haven't had a change to check out yet but have only heard good things about. Hypnosismic - Season 2 a weirdly addictive musical/rap series. Unique characters and honestly solid rap battles. One I'll be enjoying. -- Related - Paradox Live - Music battle with what looks to be the same style of animation and solid character design. Definitely worth looking at if you're a fan of Hypmic. The Seven Deadly Sins: Four Knights of the Apocalypse A sequel of SDS. Looks like it could be a fun watch for the fans of the series. New:

Shangri La Frontier A new manga fantasy series. This may be a horrible way to describe but it is what it is - a new age SAO- full dive fantasy game. A gamer who only plays shit games, gets into a new massively popular MMORPG and is op. One that I'm excited for because it ticks all the fantasy game boxes I like.

Undead Unluck A relatively new manga series that gained a lot of traction in the last year or two. A gory action comedy that's super chaotic and a lot of fun.

Shy Brand new hero manga series about a shy girl and her anxieties and struggles going into the hero world who grows and gains confidence as she becomes a better hero.

Ron Kamonohashi's Forbidden Deductions This is a manga series that I have kept forgetting the name of so never got a chance to read but all the covers for the manga look phenomenal. Likely the anime doesn't do him justice but it is what it is. Essentially sherlock in anime form. A PI with issues and the wholesome police detective work together to solve crime. Other New Series: Green - Fantasy Pink - Romance Red - Action Purple - Drama The Kingdoms of Ruins A world where witches were hunted down by humans as science surpassed magic. A kid who was raised by a witch swears revenge on mankind. This honestly looks solid. The animations are very cool looking and the mc seems to be an anti-hero. Will be looking at this one. Under Ninja A well known manga series about modern ninjas. Definitely a unique series for this season. The Apothecary Diaries A historical medical mystery show. I've heard the name before and I've also only heard good things. Will be worth a watch. A Girl & Her Guard Dog The granddaughter of a crime syndicate goes to highschool out of town and the current young boss lies his way into the same school. Would be cute romance if it weren't for the fact she's 15 and he's 26.. Butareba - The Story of a Man Turned into a Pig What the title says. A girl finds him and the story goes from there. I'm Giving the Disgraced Noble Lady I Rescued a Crash Course in Naughtiness The usual light novel title. Honestly, doesn't seem as yikes as I initially thought, might just be harmless breaking the rules kinda thing. Could be fun, also a Capybara that strikes fear into people's hearts. My Daughter Left the Nest and Returned an S-Rank Adventurer Looks like a wholesome series where an adventurer finds a baby, raises it and she becomes so strong she's busy working all the time. Just a cute father daughter relationship in a fantasy setting about her wanting to come take time to see him but being caught up in OP fantasy battles. Ragna Crimson Dragons vs Humanity - a human and a dragon team up to destroy all the dragons. Action fantasy series. Berserk of Gluttony I honestly added this because I thought it was hilarious. Looks like a combo of knock offs - the Gluttony skill from Tensura (reincarnated as a slime) and the mc being called Fate with the main girl who looks exactly like Sabre. I'll be skipping but its' here so you know.

306 notes · View notes

whoistartaglia · 9 months

Text

sweet talk

based on sweet talk by saint motel.

alhaitham x gn! reader

alhaitham is not one to pull his punches, not even with you.

presently, you lounge in alhaitham’s office, seated incorrectly, with your legs over the arms of the chair and back against the other side, in front of alhaitham’s desk. the scholar watches as you flip nonsensically through a scriba, your eyes barely skimming the page, before you toss it on the desk. it lands in the middle of a hurricane of documents and open books, and nearly topples over an inkwell.

“can i assume this book too has lost your interest?” alhaitham says, picking it up himself. he fights the urge to roll his eyes. a romance novel, of course. when you first came marching in his office, ignoring the plaque on his door of “leave me alone” (though in much more “professional” language), you claimed the novel was a dissertation, and that you needed a nice, quiet place to work. the library, you claimed, was too packed with students studying for finals and working on their own reseatch papers. alhaitham allowed you to begrudgingly take residence in his office. yet flipping through the novel know, alhaitham realizes he should have known better.

“naturally,” you reply, hopping off the chair. “i’m so bored and there’s nothing to do.”

“what about your research?”

you make a face like you bit into a lemon.

“i would rather read that entire book to you upside-down and backwards.”

now it’s alhaitham’s turn to make a face. his is bitter like he downed a black coffee, no sugar, no milk, except that you know better; alhaitham probably has those on the daily and enjoys them.

alhaitham pretends to think, then snaps his fingers when the idea comes to him.

“you could always leave,” he says, quite pleased with himself.

you roll your eyes. “ha-ha. very funny.”

“i wasn’t joking,” alhaitham replies, tossing your novel to the corner of his desk. “you are always welcome to go, [name]. right now especially. i’ll even walk you to the door.”

this has the opposite of alhaitham’s intended effect. what he wanted was your sour expression to deepen, lips puckering and brows furrowing, not the absolutely sweet and beaming smile that has replaced it.

“what a lovely idea!” you say, clasping your hands together. “unfortunately, i will have to decline your generous offer for a walk today. i feel i’m just too tired.” you make a point of sitting back down, on his desk this time, and dangling your feet off the edge. you look over you shoulder to grin at him, and it doesn’t even falter at alhaitham’s visible confusion.

this isn’t the first time his harsh words haven’t the slightest negative effect on you. the scribe, for all his intelligence and determination, can’t figure out why. if he said those same words to anyone else, they would have run out of his office with their tail between their legs. but not you.

short of telling you to piss off and go away, alhaitham does not know what could actually deter you—and even then, he feels him saying that would only further encourage you. between this and his research, alhaitham can’t tell which is the harder nut to crack, though he’s leaning towards the former.

“i’m going to take a break,” alhaitham announces, standing up and heading towards the door. the latter is at a standstill, and he’d rather return to it later than brute-forcing his way through it now.

“great idea,” you say, hopping off the desk. “where are we going? on a walk?”

“well, i am,” alhaitham says, “but didn’t you say your legs were hurting?”

“oh!” you pause and think very quickly. “they’re all better now—unless you want to carry me. then i have no objections.” this earns you an amused snort, but you figure that if alhaitham really doesn’t want you to come, he wouldn’t be opening the door in front of you like he is now.

“is there anything i can say to deter you?” he wonders aloud.

you think for a second, walking out of the office. alhaitham keeps pace next to you as you travel down the halls.

“i’m not sure. you could always send the matra after me. but even if you told me to drop dead, i wouldn’t care.”

“i didn’t realize i was such a sweet talker,” alhaitham mutters, more to himself than to you. you simply smile up at him, and when you ask him to repeat himself because you didn’t hear, alhaitham just smiles and shakes his head.

alhaitham isn’t one to pull his punches, and he likes to think it’s the same with you. but you smile so sweetly that the sourness and bitterness from earlier fades, and alhaitham finds himself wondering if there was ever a punch to be pulled in the first place.

296 notes · View notes

henneseyhoe · 9 months

Text

Next lifetime (request)

Franklin Saint x BLACK!FEM!reader

WARNINGS: no protection(wrap before you tap!), virginity mentions(it’s virgin sex guys lol), cheating(technically),smut smut smuttt

SUMMARY:reader has a shitty boyfriend she’s being forced to be with because her parents don’t like Franklin, Frank is a simp so he’s determined to have her either way! He sneaks in her bedroom and they have a lil breakdown before they virgin asses almost break the bed <3

Ps. This took so long to write cause I kept changing my mind about shit so I apologize to the person who requested it 😭 so if y’all see the pov randomly change pls ignore.

✮✮✮✮

Tap.

Her head picks up from out of the book she was reading, her attention moving towards her window.

Tap.

She heard again, but this time she saw something actually make contact with the glass. Something small, like a pebble or a piece of plastic.

‘Da hell?’ She thought, reaching over and turning her music down lower than it already was, ‘the girl is mine’ by Michael Jackson no longer being heard through the speakers.

Tap.

That time around the sound was a little more aggressive and impatient, slightly ticking the girl off. She sat her novel down on her nightstand and got down from her bed, slowly striding her way to the window to see who or what was so desperately trying to grasp her attention. Peeking out of the curtains, she squints, searching for the culprit.

“Open the damn window, girl!” She heard a muffled voice from down below. She looks down, spotting her bestfriend, Franklin. The girl couldn’t help but face palm. not cause he wasn’t supposed to be there, not because he was extremely loud and risking getting her in trouble, but because he was also ruining her flower garden that decorated the side of the house, his feet being planted into the wide flower pot so he could reach the window

He waves as she looks at him, almost falling, but the grip he had on the side of the house must’ve been enough to hold him up.

Opening up her window, she crosses her arms. “Nigga, I know you not down there ruining my bushes and tulips” she complains in a hushed tone, and he looks up at her with a ‘sorry’ smile, shrugging.

“And you just don’t care, do you?”

“Of course I care about your lil garden, it’s beautiful…like you”

she rolls her eyes, fighting a small smirk that was tugging at her plump lips.

“Corny” she mumbles. “Yeah, whatever. Whatchu doing here?” She asks, leaning on the windowsill with her arms, now kneeling. He shrugs again.

“I can’t visit my best friend?”

She shakes her head, knowing he was up to no good. There was no other reason for him to be there so late in the night other than hearing gossip. Gossip about her, which she couldn’t seem to hide from these days. There had been rumors about her relationship with her ex ‘Caine’ for about a week now, but the newest one was that they got back together. Not that it was her choice. He most likely knew that though.

“I didn’t say you couldn’t see me, it’s just…You know you’re not supposed to be here” she spoke lowly and he nods, sighing. “I wanted to see you”

She chuckles. “you always wanna see me”

“that’s a crime?” He asks, starting to jump for the windowsill to pull himself up. On one lucky jump, he was able to get a good grip on the window, attempting to pull himself inside. She watches him, sighing to herself.

“In this house? apparently”

he laughs and she crawls backwards so he could climb in fully. He did just that, readjusting his hand placement to the sides of the windowsill and pushing himself through, rolling onto the floor once he was in. She covers her mouth to keep from laughing, trying to keep her seriousness so she could scold him for all the noise.

Standing to her feet, she steps over him, softly kicking him in the side. “Shhhh” she shushed, looking out the window to make sure nobody saw before closing it.

“Damn, my bad” he straightens himself up, standing to his feet. A part of her wanted to push his ass right back out of that window, but the other part of her knew she’d just miss him again, and when she got in that mood, it was hard to get her out of it. You’d think because they’ve been best friends for so long that people around would understand, but it seemed like no one did.

Her parents hated him with every fiber in their bodies combined, his mother thought she was ‘too damn uppity’, and their friend groups couldn’t stand each other. Not to mention they were polar opposites. Y/N was on her way to college for a degree she was set on, and Franklin, on the other hand was being Franklin. Doing whatever the hell he wanted.

“You look pretty” he suddenly says, the girl looking down at her gown and squinting at him. “Oh shut up, no I don’t“ she argues, going back to sit on her bed. He follows, kicking his shoes off and sitting next to her. “You do though. I’m sure Caine will love that”

She glares at him. “Cut it out” she says, not wanting to talk about it. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks, playing with the bottom of her dress. He knew she would talk one way or another, and the silence was just enough space for her to spill.

“…it wasn’t my choice, Franklin…”

“I get it, Y/N. It’s whatever”

She frowns. it wasn’t whatever to her. It was actually everything, and she hated that. It was her life, her reality. It’s all she ever talked about these days, and she was tired. Tired of talking about it, tired of her parents, tired of everyone else making choices for her, not with her. She was indecisive, yes, but she always knew what she wanted in the end, and what she wanted wasn’t anything like how things were going in many of her relationships.

Fiddling with the necklace she wore, she tried to think of a way to explain to him how she felt without potentially upsetting both of them. The subject was sensitive, and so was she at the moment. “I don’t want it to seem like you’re a second thought for me…”

“I know I’m not” he says simply, his tone dry.

“No, you really don’t and I can feel it”

He lets go of her dress, smoothing his hands over his face. The topic stressed him out just as much as it did her, but he wasn’t so good with not letting it get the best of him. “I don’t know what you want me to do when you got security surrounding you every where you go…I mean, I just snuck in through your damn window, Y/N”

Her eyes dart over to him, her lids forming a squint at his tone. “So, you think it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t say that”

“Okay then, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying you a grown ass woman. Making a few people upset ain’t gonna end the world” he replies, his attitude getting more noticeable as they conversed. She allowed herself to calm before speaking, not wanting to raise her voice. “You don’t even know how hard it is, I have a standard to uphold!” She says a little above a whisper.

“And I’m not apart of that? I’m starting to think the shit your parents say about me is getting to you, cause the nigga they picked FOR YOU over me apparently treats you like shit, and that wasn’t enough to make you put your foot down? Hell of a woman you are”

Her jaw almost dropped for a split second, and she found herself about to stoop down extremely low because of the hurtful things he said, but it was true, and she couldn’t deny that. It may have stung a bit, but it was something she needed to hear.

What he said had concluded the argument, and he could almost feel the tension that built up between them for the past few weeks disappearing into thin air.

Feeling bad now, he huffs before speaking.“…I’m sorry. That was fucked up to throw it in your face like that, but-“

“Nah, you right” she interrupts, nodding. “You got it. definitely got it, Saint”

He sighs. He knew he could be a little too blunt at times, but how could you blame him? The topic was something he was passionate about. He was passionate about her and her well-being.

Grabbing her hand from her lap, he holds it. “You know I love you. I’d do anything for you, but it’s hard to come to terms with the love of your life being with someone else, in a situation they don’t even wanna be in. I feel like my fuckin’ heart is gonna burst when I think about it” Even in this moment his chest hurt a little, becoming tighter as he fought back the urge to keep going, just in case she rejected him.

She didn’t speak. he felt like the world stopped for a moment as she held his hand, her grip becoming a little tighter. Meanwhile in her head, she was jumping for joy, the man she actually loved confessing that he wanted to be with her.

She wanted to dance, but she was stuck in her feels, admiring how he became softer just in that small moment. If it was Caine, he’d just refuse to talk to her and leave.

They stayed in thick silence for a while, just staring at each other, waiting for one of them to make the next move to determine wether they’d have a real future together or not. She pondered for a moment on if she was doing the right thing, if she was being selfish and putting herself first. Then she realized that’s exactly what she should do.

suddenly, she kissed him. Hard. The bed had made squeaky noises as she made her way onto his lap, pushing him backwards. He gladly accepted the kiss with his hands almost immediately moving to her ass like he’d been waiting for the moment to touch, boldly gripping as his tongue explored her mouth. That alone had her nerves going crazy, her core thumping with a second heartbeat. She started to get wet at the feeling of her heat grinding against his lap, and he could feel it.

He pulls away, looking up at her. “Wait…” he stops, the girl giving him a puzzled look, wondering what she had done wrong in just that small window of time. He looks at her with a questioning look, her already knowing what he was asking.

She genuinely thought for a minute. She had talked to Caine about giving him her virginity before. In all honestly, it was almost all he talked about when they were alone now that she thought about it, but every time she thought she was ready to give it to him, her body always felt too uncomfortable to go on with anything other than head.

So she told him no. Every single time. But now? It felt right to her. She couldn’t explain what was different, but she felt it in her heart. It was a complete different vibe for her.

She nods to him and he smiles, pulling her back down. He eagerly pulls at her night gown, almost ripping the laced parts of it as he pushes the front of it below her breasts, letting them free. His lips disconnect from her and attach to her nipples instead, his tongue circling around her areola before he began to suck, his other hand making sure her right didn’t feel left out. She let out a soft moan, throwing her head back as her hand held the back of his.

She attempted to squeeze her thighs shut around him to subside the throbbing of her clit and give it the right amount of attention and pressure she craved, but his hips stopped her every single time. Catching onto her gestures, he swiftly flips her over to her back, beginning to kiss down her soft, brown body, then back up to her lips.

“So” kiss. “fuckin’” kiss. “beautiful” he mumbles, laying a peck on her lips for every word while his hand made it’s way down to her panties. his thumb made delicious circles on her clit, and he could feel it jumping just from contact. She couldn’t help but to let out another moan, her hand moving to close her mouth so no one down the hall would hear.

Almost immediately, his hand moves her’s from her mouth, the girl looking at him as if he was crazy. “Nah, I wanna hear you” she sighs. “I can’t be too loud”

“Don’t care”

He says simply and pushes her legs up, closing her thighs together. She braces herself for what was about to happen, attempting to prepare mentally for whatever she was about to let him do to her body. Has she given head before? Yes. Absolutely. It was almost a regular thing that she’d do to Caine to make him happy for suddenly saying she didn’t wanna have sex with him, but she never had him return the favor before. She didn’t even know it wasn’t a normal thing until she told her friends and they all stared at her like she was stupid.

It wasn’t like she wanted him down there anyway. she would have rather died. While staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought, she hadn’t even realized Franklin had already pulled her underwear off and spread her thighs back apart, the man gawking at how wet she had gotten that fast. He on the other hand, had never seen anything like it unless it was in a magazine or on a tv, and no one he was with before this had ever gotten this far. Long story short, he hadn’t been in pussy since the day he came out one.

His dick got straight as a board in his pants just thinking about how she’d feel wrapped around him, gripping tightly.

He wrapped his arms around her thighs and pulled her to the edge of the bed so he could have more access before he dove in, feasting on her like his last meal. Her head lifts up to watch him, her eyes being welcomed by his staring up at her as he licked and slurped her up, laying small kisses on her clit every now and then that had her stomach twisting in knots.

“Oh fuck- right there..“ a breath escapes her lips in substitute of the moan she refused to let out. He hummed in satisfaction, his tongue slipping in and out of her, going up and down from her clit to her entrance. He repeated those strokes and built up the speed, her legs beginning to shake already from the new feeling between her legs.

She didn’t know what was happening, but she was warm. She couldn’t explain the feeling if you asked, but she knew it felt good. Her hips automatically raised into his face in reaction to the sensitivity of her body, and he only took that as a sign to go harder, his lips closing around her clit before he began sucking.

A whole new wave of sensations took on her body, making her thrash in an attempt to get him off of her, but it was unsuccessful with his arms wrapped around her thighs in a death grip to hold her still.

“stop—stoppp-” she spoke, her hands moving to his head to once again attempt to push him and get him off, but he didn’t budge. She felt like she wanted to pee, and that made her adrenaline rush a bit. Anyone outside of the door would have thought she was having a panic attack with how hard she was breathing.

“Hmmm-mmmm” he hummed against her as he looked almost through her and into her soul, her brown irises looking back at him in awe. Suddenly she felt a gush of water, the tingly sensation she had just before being abandoned by her body as soon as she felt wetness under her. She gasped harshly, her lungs quickly filling with air, so much that her chest hurt.

She didn’t know what had even happened, but she thought apparently it was something normal since he was still going, ignoring the shaking of her poor legs. Either that or he had a weird kink she was just finding out about.

He had only pulled off of her to catch air, clear liquid dripping from his chip. The top of his shirt was soaked. “I- I’m sorry- I told you to stop!” She stammered, quickly gathering herself and sitting up on her knees, one of her hands going between her thighs to stop the pulsing of her clit. embarrassment washed over her as she gained back her full senses.

He smiles and stands to his feet, peeling his shirt off. Tilting her head up with his finger, he pecks her on her lips softly. She taste herself on his tongue. “If it wasn’t okay, I would have stopped, Y/N”

She paused for a moment before nodding with a smile, pulling him down by his throat for another kiss. She took that as an opportunity to pay him back, pulling him even closer by his pants and removing his belt, throwing it somewhere to the side. She began pushing his pants down slowly, his underwear easily coming along with them.

disconnecting the kiss while grabbing a hold of him in her hand, her eyes widen. it took everything in her not to gasp at the feeling or the sight. He was heavy, bigger than Caine in all categories. She could only wonder how all of that was gonna fit inside of her and leave with her still in tact at that.

Beginning to stroke him, he shudders and steps out of his clothes, praying that it felt as good as they made it seem in the pornos. Taking the practice she had from Caine, she prayed that it would suffice for him and still be pleasurable, considering he was so different.

She licks the tip of his dick, then kisses it, her hands starting to move up and down as she prepared myself. Collecting saliva in her mouth, she spits down onto him before slurping it back up and licking along the sides of his shaft, a vibrational moan accompanying her motions. She felt him twitch in her hand, his breathing speeding up the nastier she got. Moving her hand down to the base of him, she attempted to deepthroat, only being able to go half way before she gagged again, but that wasn’t gonna stop her.

She began bobbing her head, using her hands to stroke the rest of him as her mouth did the rest of the work. Her spit trailed down his shaft, and she used it to lube up the rest of him, making the stroke of her hand go smoother than before. She had only been five minutes in before he took a good grip on her hair, starting to thrust in her mouth without regards for her throat. moving her hand from the base of his dick, she tried taking every inch he gave her as he fucked her throat while also trying to fight off gags that had her shedding tears.

He hit the back of her throat with force, wet, squishy sounds filling the room as more spit gathered on his dick, dripping down his balls. Trying his best not to make any alarming noises, he was only a few thrusts away from saying fuck it and busting deep down her throat. But as ready as he was, he refused, pulling out of her mouth with a sigh.

“Fuck” he throws his head back, trying to think of something else other than her as his dick bobs in her face. She swallows the spit in her mouth and slurps up the rest that was dripping from his dick, going down to his balls and licking those up too. His stomach flexes and he pulls away again, his hands pushing at her shoulders to keep her at bay.

“What? Did I do something wrong?” She asks and he shakes his head, gripping the base of his dick. “Nah…I just don’t wanna cum yet” he explains, the girl tilting her head. She didn’t really understand as to why he didn’t, but she didn’t bother to pry any further. In his head, he was waiting for what his homies described as ‘one of the best feelings ever next to winning the lottery’. He wanted to believe that.

“I wanna ride. Can I?” She asks abruptly. She could see in his face that he was slightly shocked by her request. wondering if she could even do it correctly, he still wanted to say yes. Why not test it out on him even if she can’t? Is what he thought. Though she never did it before, she had confidence that she could, thinking she would be able to control her own pace.

✮✮✮✮

Kneeling felt too uncomfortable, straining her muscles a bit too much. She made a mental note to stretch a bit more, then switched to her tippy toes, taking a deep breath. He grabs his dick by the base, helping her position it in the right place before she began slowly lowering herself. Only the tip had made it in, and she had already winced. Not out of pain, but it was just a lot of pressure to say only an inch or two was in.

“Relax, baby” he spoke into the air, the sound of his voice making her walls clench. She moans.

“I’m trying. I don’t think it’ll fit”

“It’ll fit” he reassures, his arms going under her to support her bouncing. Her arms went to his shoulders and she lowered herself a bit more onto him. The entrance into her was slick, the wetness surrounding her tight pussy helping him slip inside much easier, making her feel every single vein and inch faster than she wanted to. Once she was fully sat, she took a deep breath to continue raising back up, but he had already started the task by lifting her up himself, his hands gripping her ass.

He helped her bounce, then let go once he felt her adjust to his size, her grip loosening up, but she was still tight enough to enjoy. He fought the urge to fuck back, but it was only a matter of time before he disregarded how she felt.

“Just like that, baby” he praises, one of his hands now on her neck, gripping slightly. She felt an unreal amount of pressure, her legs almost giving out when she felt his tip hit the ‘end’ of her pussy, giving her a stomach turning feeling that had her ready to do what she just had done when he was eating her out.

Her ass popped right back up and her legs wobbled as she tried her best not to tap out, a thin layer of sweat now covering her forehead . “Right there” her plump lips pouted, him leaning up a bit and kissing them.

They both were trying their best to keep it down, but the bed was starting to make squeaking noises the faster her bouncing got, but she knew he couldn’t have cared about any of that. He only confirmed her assumption by how he began raising his hips to meet her bouncing, his hips now suddenly snapping into hers as she tried to lift herself to prevent the sound of their thighs meeting each other.

“Oh shit!” She huffed, her voice breaking. He shushed her with an expression before it disappeared as pleasure took over, his eyes rolling back momentarily as his head met the headboard. She struggled to stay on her toes as one more orgasms rushed over her, her legs finally giving out and going back into a kneeling position.

He held the position and locked his arms around her waist, his hips still drilling into her without a care. She heard nothing but wet smacking noises, her walls being the culprit of the noise as the boy attempted to make his tip meet her cervix, or that’s what it felt like to her . Her jaw went slack and her legs lost its feeling. She was walking the line of passing out, but every stroke kept her eyes shot open and tearing up.

If this is what sex felt like the whole time then she was thinking she should have always been a bit promiscuous around Franklin.

Before she knew it, he flipped both of them over, her back now on the wet sheets and blankets. She shivered at the cold spots that hit her ass before her body tensed up, feeling the thick pole she had just been rammed with slide right back into her with no warning, starting out with a slow, controlled pace. She grips his shoulders so tight that her nails dug into his skin, making him wince with his bottom lip tucked into his mouth.

He was so pretty from this angle. She could watch him all day.

She was so wet by now that the only thing she could feel was when his tip made contact with her gspot, her back arching up so high that she could have sworn she heard it crack a little. “I can’t,” she shook her head, her toes curling as he hit that sweet spot once again, now speeding up his thrusts. Her walls only gripped and took him in further, and that was when all feeling came back.

She clenched her eyes closed so tight that she started seeing black spots when she opened them back up. “Fuck!” She moaned out accidentally.

“Fu—“ he slapped her mouth shut quickly as he fucked her like he hated her, finally taking a bit of account of how loud and reckless they were getting. She whined at the stinging on her cheeks and he gave her an apologetic look, but his speed didn’t cease to make it easier for her to be quiet. It actually got more vigorous, and him rubbing her sensitive clit at the same time didn’t help either.

“You so fuckin’ gorgeous” he says, his voice and breathing jagged, the compliment making her fluster more than she already was by this situation alone. He moved his hand from her mouth and held her head, leaning down. They were so close that she could hear his breathing even clearer, the sound alone with his low moans being music to her ears. It only made her wetter knowing he enjoyed this as much as she did.

The feeling she had earlier rushed back so easily, her stomach tying itself in knots again. “I gotta— I’m cumming” she says breathlessly, her voice a little above a whisper. She expected him to stop, but that was a negative. Her toes curled and her arms pushed at him, but she was too far gone and tired to get him off of her, so she tried to scoot up instead.

She never thought ‘running from dick’ was a real thing. She only heard about it in stories her homegirls told her about, but now she completely understood. She understood that feeling you get when it’s just too good that you can barely control your movements anymore, to the point where you wanna smack the shit out of his face just to slow him down a bit.

Every time she moved an inch, he followed and fucked harder, her moans now getting caught in her throat. He was determined to make us both pass out, he waited for this moment for a long time. Too long if you asked him.

Her head and shoulders hung off the bed with her body going limp. She couldn’t move up anymore or she’d risk falling off her bed and hitting her head, waking up anybody who could freely open the door any time they wanted. This was already a risky situation considering she had no lock on my door.

She couldn’t tell if it was her blood rushing to her head or if it was another orgasm that was hitting stronger than the other one, but she was losing her mind, her legs closing around his fast moving hips as she squirted once more, soaking the sheets. Her head popped forward towards him and she mustered up the strength to push him off of her finally, more of her juices squirting out as he pulled out of her with a grunt.

Pulling her back onto the bed fully by her thighs, he wraps his hand around his shaft, jerking himself off to finish. his stomach muscles tensed up and his breathing came to a stop as he gripping himself tightly. She stared in anticipation, her hands moving downwards to stroke the tip of his dick with her thumb, that small touch alone being enough to make him cum all over her stomach and chest with a loud groan.

“Shhh” She jump up to cover his mouth, lowkey getting her payback for that mouth cover he did to her earlier.

“Fuck” he says, his words muffled because of her hand. He grabs her wrist and pulls her hand away from him, collapsing back onto the bed while letting out a breath.

They sat there for a few seconds, trying to regulate their breathing.

“…Franklin?” She calls, looking at him and pulling her knees to her chest to cover herself up like he wasn’t just inside of her.

“Yeah?”

“Were you a virgin before this?”

“…yeah” they stare, Franklin scratching the back of his neck and looking away

“Then…”

“Porn” he answered simply, her ears immediately getting hot.

“Oh..”

✮✮✮✮

@mikazaki890763

#Franklin saint smut #franklin saint #snowfall #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #black!reader #masterlist #black actors #black reader #black!fem!reader #black!oc #smut masterlist #henneseyhoe #damson idris #damson idris smut #Spotify

310 notes · View notes

thebadgerclan · 9 months

Text

Safe and Sound

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Summary: He'll come home safe and sound...he has to...

A/N: Not requested, but I wanted to sprinkle in some fluff between all my smutty requests 😂

Also this is very loosely based on "Timeless" by Taylor Swift (oops I'm a Swiftie now)

It wasn’t easy being a Prince’s intended, that was something that had been made explicitly clear to you before accepting Nikolai’s suit. But you loved him beyond measure and were willing to do whatever it took to be with him. And it was hard at times, but you learned to handle the scrutiny, the rumors, the criticism. So long as you had Nikolai’s arms to seek solace in, you could handle anything.

But you weren’t prepared for your intended to be sent to war. Nikolai, unlike his brother, truly enlisted, which came with the chance to be deployed with the rest of his unit. And he had been. He wasn’t going terribly far–only to Tsibeya–but that was where some of the harshest conditions and toughest fighting was. He was a Prince, they wouldn’t let him too near to the danger….would they?

You stood watching as Nikolai packed his things, looking handsome in his standard issue First Army uniform. No sash to indicate his status, no medals he hadn’t truly earned, he was a normal soldier. He turned to face you, a soft smile on his face. “Come here, darling,” he said, opening his arms. “If you look at me like that much longer, then I’ll start crying.” He was teasing, but you ran into his arms, burying your face in his chest, arms around his middle.

Nikolai held you tight, swaying back and forth gently. “It’s alright, my love,” he said. “I’ll be just fine.” “You don’t know that,” you cried. “You don’t know that you’ll be fine!” He nodded, though you couldn’t see. “You’re right, I can’t. But I promise that I will do my best to keep myself and my soldiers safe, Y/N. I promise, I will come back to you.” You only cried harder and held him tighter, dreading the moment you’d have to let go.

***

You received letters from Nikolai almost weekly, though there were some weeks that you went without word from your intended. But he was alive…if the Prince was struck down in battle, you’d know. Even so, you worried for his safety, pacing your rooms in the Palace for hours on end. When you received a letter, it consumed you, and you poured over the words for hours, tracing his looping scrawl with a finger.

Such was the instance now. You had already bathed and been curled up in bed with your new novel when there was a knock at your door. “Begging your pardon, my Lady,” the servant said. “But this was just delivered for you.” You snatched the letter from him greedily, thanking him before shutting your door, crawling back into bed to read.

My dearest Y/N, I am well, first of all. The entire unit is unharmed, and by the grace of the Saints, we will keep it that way. I miss you terribly, my love, I can barely sleep without you by my side. And that has nothing to do with the fact that my bed is a bedroll on the frozen ground. There has been little progress here as of yet, the Fjerdans are too cowardly to show themselves. But when they do, my dearest, we will destroy them.

Saints, I miss you. I miss your sweet smile, your soft kisses, your arms around me. I miss seeing you in the morning, before your maids come in to dress you, I miss watching you from across a ballroom, laughing at whatever the Kerch ambassador said, I miss seeing your face scrunch up when you read in surprise at what the characters have done. I miss you, Y/N, I miss you so damn much.

Dream of me when you sleep tonight, my love, for I will certainly dream of you. I promise, I will continue to keep myself and my soldiers safe, and I am counting the days until I am back in your arms. You own my heart, sweet love, please do not return in. Forever yours, with all of my love, -Nikolai.

You held the paper to your chest once you’d read it, tears pricking at your eyes. He was alright, he was safe. Of course, there was a week-long delay in the post, but he was safe. You folded the letter up and added it to the collection in your bedside drawer, and over the next hour, you re-read every single one of Nikolai’s letters, imagining that he was at your side and speaking to you.

When you fell asleep, you dreamt of him; simple, mundane things. Waking up in his arms, sitting at his side, both of you reading, having dinner with him, dancing with him at a ball, falling asleep in his arms. But when you woke, your bed empty save for you, your heart broke all over again. Nikolai might be safe, but he wasn’t here. And he might not be for a long time.

***

This letter was different. It had been sent by a messenger from camp, who appeared to have ridden straight from Tsibeya. “My Lady,” she panted, exhausted from her journey. “A letter for you, from Prince Nikolai.” You took the letter and opened it, slightly concerned by its length. But then you read it, and you could have cried.

Y/N, I am coming home. The Fjerdans have been dealt with, and my unit is moving out tomorrow morning. I had Katya deliver this to you, my love, both so you would know that I am on my way back to you, and so she can get home to her ailing wife. Soon, Y/N, darling, I will be back in your arms. Saints, two months have never felt so long. I love you, dearest, more than life. -Your Kolya.

***

You’d been standing on the steps of the Palace for hours. Nikolai would arrive home today, and there was no chance you’d miss him. You barely felt the early winter chill as you paced. It was growing dark, and you knew that you’d soon have to retreat inside, but just then, you heard it. The sound of hoofbeats, the call of voices. And then you saw it: a battalion of soldiers approaching, with Nikolai at the head.

You let out a cry, and your husband kicked his horse into a gallop. “Y/N!” he called, and you cried his name back, hands covering your mouth. Once he was close enough, Nikolai leapt from his horse and ran to you, lifting you into his arms and spinning you around. “Oh, my love!” he said, peppering your face and neck with kisses once he’d set you down. “You are far more beautiful than I remember you being!”

“Kolya!” you giggled, pressing a deep, lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re here, you’re really here…” “I am, beautiful. And I’m not going anywhere for a good long while.” Nikolai kissed you again, nuzzling his nose against yours. He then reached into a pocket, unlooping his arms from around you. “Y/N, if the past two months have taught me anything, it’s that I cannot bear to be without you. And I can’t promise that I won’t be sent away like this again, but I need you like I need air, Y/N.”

He pulled back, taking your hands in his as he sank to one knee. “My love, I want to be yours for the rest of my life. I wanted to do this at a ball thrown in your honor, but life has other plans. Y/N, my dear, my darling, my love, will you do me the honor of marrying me?” You’d started crying, and when he pulled out a ring, sapphire surrounded by diamonds, you sobbed. “Yes!” you nearly screamed. “Nikolai, yes! Yes, yes, yes! Oh Saints, get up here!” He stood, and you launched yourself into his arms, crying and laughing with joy. “I love you!” you said. “I love you so much!” Nikolai held you tighter, tears of his own flowing freely. “I love you too, Y/N,” he said, completely unwilling to let you go. “I love you too.” The prayers you had said to the Saints had paid off, for your Nikolai was home, safe and sound.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #shadow and bone reader insert #nikolai lantsov x you #shadow and bone fanfiction

158 notes · View notes