#ensemble stars music x reader

[chill-pills-yandere-haven]

The Little Prince

An: Thank you to @187-mg for the picture and the inspiration for this one shot! All hail Nagisa! But anyway, this one is a bit dark and I got to play with the childhood friends tripe for the first time! And this drabble was a little inspired by the story of Cain and Abel if your willing to look up the details. Enjoy!

Tw: Yanderes, murder, (my search history looks like a really stupid murderer's lol, couldn't find any pictures of people being repeatedly bashed with a rock tho so may be a little inaccurate 😭), description of murder, not that explicit but not light either, Nagisa needs help, Nagisa improvs murder, don't worry, we're not killing any of the boys today, just a nameless chara

Once upon a time, there was a boy.

He was taken in and treated like a prince.

This little prince had everything he could've ever wanted, yet not a friend in the world.

One night, this little prince wanted to go outside his lonely castle. He wanted to meet other kids like him. After all, he had always been such a curious child.

On his trip to the outside world, he met someone.

Another child who, despite the little prince being a complete outsider, made the little prince feel like he truly belonged.

They had a wonderful time together. And the prince realized that that was the first time he had ever felt… human. 

He found that he loved the feeling. That he loved spending time with his new friend.

Alas, he knew he'd have to leave his new friend. He didn't want to risk getting them in trouble. So he left. But before he left, he left them with a promise.

"We'll meet again someday."

And he never saw his friend again.

Nagisa was on his usual trip to the library. Ibara had gotten him into reading and brought him books from time to time, but he still enjoyed picking a couple out for himself.

He was looking through the shelves of one of his favourite genres when he noticed someone else looking through the shelves.

They looked at the books carefully but didn't scrutinize them nearly as much as Nagisa had them.

Something about them felt… familiar.

Their hair, their pretty eyes, and their face were all reminiscent of something…

No, that would be impossible.

They'd have had to have gone somewhere else by now. Nagisa assumed they had gone out of the country.

And why would they be in the same library as him? At this single moment? Fate?

He looked at them more, trying to prove that it wasn't you. But he couldn't deny it.

It was you.

The one who set his heart ablaze, who let him know how it felt to live.

He had looked for you since forever. But he hadn't even gotten your name during the one night he finally felt alive.

"Excuse me? Are you alright?" 

That was your voice.

It was a lot more mature than when he last heard it, but that only contributed to its beauty.

Nagisa had spent his whole life trying to chase after you.

Now here you were.

And he had to admit, you blossomed into a true beauty.

"Oh, I'm perfectly fine. But… I think I recognize you. What's your name?" Nagisa asked, feigning curiosity and hiding his excitement.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same. I think I know you from somewhere," you replied and told Nagisa your name.

So that was your name?

It was quite beautiful to him. In his eyes, it perfectly suited you.

And even better, you still remembered him!

Yes, you were a bit forgetful, but he'd jog your memory. You were everything to him. The life you gave him was a feeling he had been trying to revive ever since that day he left you. He'd do anything for you.

He didn't want to come off as too zealous though. Technically, this was your first meeting with Nagisa since you forgot your first meeting with him. He made light conversation and gave his name as well.

Yet he almost couldn't help himself. You were his saviour. You showed him what to live for. You were his god. Ever so sweet and kind.

Actually, everything about you was god-like. The way you walked. The tone of voice you used. The way you smiled at certain books. Nagisa had never wanted to be a big stitched-up stack of paper so badly. Even the way you looked at things was beautiful to him. 

Juicy lips with just the right amount of plumpness to them. Nagisa could feel his face heat up as he took in the smallest of details about you. And wow, your eyes were pretty.

But then, those lips were on another's.

What?

What the hell just happened?

"Hey, you done now honey bun?" The piece of scum that had the nerve to kiss you said to you. You even held them close! 

How?

Why?

Nagisa's brain was going haywire at the implications of this.

Such scum merely existing in the presence of his god, his saviour, his love. It disgusted him.

He had to get rid of it.

Cleanse you of such filth.

Maybe then, he could bask in your light.

He waited just a bit. He could be patient, he waited for you for so many years before. 

He kept the filth in his sights and made sure no one could see them and Nagisa. Ibara could clean up any messes after. He had a bit of a hold on the police authority so he could force the case to go cold if he had to. After all, Ibara had done some immoral things himself. As he said though, it was all fair in the name of love.

Luckily, you left for the bathroom. 

Nagisa pulled the piece of scum aside. 

Nagisa made up a convincing story about him needing to talk with that waste of space because he was one of your exes and needed to tell them something. He used this opportunity to ask regular questions like what they were out doing. 

Apparently, the two of you were going around the city together all on foot and you were planning on going to a cafe next. A little casual and strange for Nagisa's tastes, but if you wanted to, he'd go on any kind of date with you.

He pulled them into the alleyway where the library's big garbage bin was. Nagisa could steal their phone after and tell you that they went ahead to the cafe. Then, dump everything in the garbage and tell Ibara to be ready for a cover-up. Nagisa could escape through the other side of the alleyway.

Ibara had promised him that he would if Nagisa ever had something like this happen to him.

The body may not even be found for days as well. You'd probably think they left or something.

"So, what do you need to tell me? Something like they cheated on you?" They asked. As though you, Nagisa's god, would ever do such a thing. But even if you did, you'd have a good reason.

He was starting to tire of hearing this scum waste air.

He grabbed a rock and bashed their skull in. 

One hit and they were on their knees. It was pathetic, they flailed and yelled.

"Fucking god, man, look, if you want them, you can have them! I don't give a shit about them!" They yelled.

They didn't give a shit about you?

Nagisa felt his blood boil. They had everything he ever wanted, yet he didn't give a shit about it?! 

Maybe they did need to be shut up.

Nagisa banged the rock into their throat, hoping he could completely crush it. It caved in awkwardly and he could see blood pooling.

Everything was so loud, he almost couldn't take it.

Again.

Again.

More.

He needed more.

More blood.

He needed to eradicate this piece of scum from the earth.

So they could never touch his god ever again.

And so, he kept on going. 

They were long dead, but something in Nagisa just had him beating them until they were a mess of guts and blood and bone and ick. Until they were completely unidentifiable.

They looked more like a chunky splatter of meat than a person now. How had he done this?

It was all too much. 

The musk of sweat and blood and death in the air that somehow carried a certain sweetness to it. Everything seemed silent now, as Nagisa stood, the rock still in hand. Even the feeling of his clothes on his skin disturbed him.

His heart raced.

He had just ended another human's life.

But he did it for you.

So it was all okay, wasn't it?

This was the culmination of his love. 

[glazeflower]

Ensemble Stars characters giving there S/O pet names (my favs edition)

Tatsumi Kazehaya

Dear

My angel

Beloved

He would be so old fashion type of lover

Or he would use your name

Depends on were you guys at

Shu Itsuki

100% he uses this pet name the most

Doll

No further explanation needed for that one

Other pet names are

Ma/mon cherie

Dearest

My muse

Tsukasa Suou

Dear

Beloved

My lady/lord

My queen/king/majesty

My liege

Idk were anymore but in someones post they said that "if they audition are princess then your the queen because he is Knights king" and I love that(⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

He's giving fairy tale prince vibes of pet names frfr

Eichi Tenshouin

Dearest

My love

Honey

Classic gentleman real(⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

Hajime Shino

Honey

Sweetie

Love

Just sweet little pet names form this sweet little guy

Arashi Narukami

Love

Dear

Cutie

Sweetie

She would definitely be that type of lover

She would also say it with the most sweetest tone ever to you like

Sweetie~

Skdndbcixnsndncb died

Note

This was just a silly idea to do hihi also little side note I would date Arashi like I'm not in to womens at all but like Arashi is an exception she is so ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡ anyway hope you like it!

[vividvivy]

Intro + Rules!

♡︎; INTRO

Hello, my name is Vivy! This multifandom blog is for my Character X Reader fanfiction, so please feel free to leave any requests. A thing about me is that English is not my first language, so if you see any errors that make my sentences ungrammatical, please call me out on them so I can fix them. I also take constructive criticism. 

♡︎ — RULES!

Fandoms I write for:

Mashle: Magic and Muscles

Blue Lock

Twisted Wonderland

Mobile Legends: Bang Bang

I also write for "Honkai Impact 3rd" and "Ensemble Stars!!" but since I haven't played both games in a very long time, my brain isn't refreshed and I'm not updated with the new storylines, so whether I take requests on them or not depends on my stock knowledge...

My Rules:

I DON'T write Character x Character.

I DON'T write smut but I'm ok with slightly suggestive stuff!

I will NOT write anything illegal and immoral.

My Writing Style:

SCENARIOS, HEADCANONS, series

I write PLATONIC, ROMANTIC, ANGST

Social Media: TikTok, Discord, Instagram

politely begging for friends..

[valeriele3]

I want to see a TWST and Enstars crossover..

Or at least a producer! Reader from Enstars

Like for example..

You were just wandering around the halls of NRC when you overheard the Light Music Club members talking about needing a producer to enter a grand competition specifically for talented students (Idk how these things work okk?? Just go along with it)

Hesitatingly knocking on the door and opening it fully, you let yourself in while excusing yourself

“Uhm..I don’t mean to intrude but I heard you guys talking about needing a producer?”

“Ah..Yup! We were planning on hiring a professional heheh..But turns out that they want the producer to go to the same school as the one participating..”

“Apparently it was because some participants might just hire a professional producer which puts other teams who can’t at a huge disadvantage”

“The other teams are basically fighting about this rule..The people with money are complaining about it while the average people have no problems with the rule sigh”

“Well..If you guys don’t mind I can be your producer!”

“E-Eh!? Really?!”

“Mhm! Oh— don’t worry I work as a producer back in my world so I have experience..!”

“Really..? That’s sooo cool Y/N! You’ll really help us?!!” (Kalim is basically radiating so much light with his smile that it’s blinding)

“Yeah, if you all want to of course! I’m not forcing you to accept my request..”

“I produce for a lot of different units so I’m sure it won’t be too hard..Plus, I kinda miss working..”

“Then, if it isn’t too much trouble..We shall accept. Thank you and we look forward to working with you Prefect”

“I— Thank you and I look forward to working with you too!”

Bonus:

“By the way..There are no take backs”

“So..Please bare with us smile”

“R-Right..!”

[flirtyletters]

when you love to eat

hiiro, aira, mayoi

gender neutral reader

hiiro amagi

"my dearest friend, i am happy to see you enjoying your food. i share your sentiment too so please allow me to recommend you the best items on the menu. hmm? how did you know that i was going to mention the omurice? ah, i see! because i eat it regularly! you are so clever! it does not matter if you have guessed it already because good food is good food so let us have some."

hiiro finds the best restaurants in the city where everyone knows him and likes him, especially old folks. his tales help pass time with considerable enjoyment, especially while making or eating food. his talk keeps good company to the sounds of your happy chewing. you don't have to feel pressurised about replying either. you can just concentrate on you food and he will shut up and do the same! eating properly is important.

aira shiratori

"[cute nickname], have you been to this cafe that just opened? some of my favourite idols visit this place all the time. sometimes they hire idols to act as servers too! they present their dishes very cutely. let us visit together, i love~," aira speaks in a breath and he sounds so happy that you can only nod along with enthusiasm.

"so what are we waiting for? let us go at once!"

"heh?" he begins a little startled but can't find the courage to refuse you, " yeah... right now would be fine."

he spends more time clicking pictures of the food and admiring the idols that he finds there. you always have to tell him to eat before he remembers about the food. then he eats just a little. he is too nervous and excited in the place to eat, not to mention the look of sheer ecstacy on your face that distracts him. he feels full just by seeing how much you are enjoying your food. it's too strange for words.

mayoi ayase

he loves to cook for you, especially when you mention that you love his food. it takes him by surprise, and he spends a good deal wondering if you're playing a prank on him. yes you eat his food with a huge smile on your face, and thank him every time. but really? do you really love his cooking. when he finally believes his ears, he almost floats to the kitchen in half a daze and half panic and returns with a dish you love. he doesn't dare tell you how he knows your taste, and you are too immersed in the food to wonder or question him. he instead sits down and tells you to dig in before it gets cold.

"you look so adorable while eating. your aura is so bright and beautiful that i want to keep you fed all the time. i am so glad my food can make you look so cheerful. e-eep! n-no, i didn't say anything. please continue eating. don't pay any mind to a burden like me!"

[shadow-operetta]

Imagine Rei singing Sustain Memories as you fall asleep. He would like to spend some more time with you, but he knows you're very tired after a long day. So he urges you to go to bed, tucks you in and starts singing. He holds your hand gently, rubbing soothing circles on your skin as your eyes close and your breaths even out.

"Let's make our love resonate everyday, so it doesn't fade away..."

Once you're asleep, he kisses your forehead and bids you goodnight. As for him, he'll stay up a little more. Old routines are hard to get rid of and he can't help but feel energized during the night.

You might scold him in the morning for staying up late, especially since he has work... but he doesn't mind. He hopes he can hear your voice in the mornings for a very long time.

[mywifealhaitham]

i gave up on writing fanfics so here u go :3

[y1ay2]

Songs that kinda remind me of Valkyrie x reader relationships

Note: Heyo :D I’m writing something else rn and I noticed that I haven’t posted in a while so I did this quick thing. I SWEAR SOMETHING PROPER IS COMING. Ive been a little busy w school so yea sorry D: Also I’m aware my music taste isn’t the best but give some of these songs a try :>

—————— Shu Itsuki

Numbers- TEMPOREX Best Friend - Rex Orange County (idk ab this one) Pyjama Pants- Cavetown ( THIS ONE ESPECIALLY!!) So This Is Love- Cinderella song Je te laisserai des mots- Patrick Watson (ik its French but I like it a lot soo 😔) Crush Culture - Conan Gray (not necessarily romantic but I feel like it just suits him well) — Mika Kagehira Be careful with my heart - Rocco Let you break my heart again - Laufey (THIS ONE ESPECIALLY HIS RELATIONSHIP W SHU AHHH) If You Only Knew- Yayyoung My Jinji- Sunset Rollercoaster Scrawny- Wallows Like or Like Like- Miniature Tigers Pretty Boy- The Neighbourhood Baby- Crisaunt ——————

Note 2: Ill be posting a drabble or more headcanons either tomorrow or the day after that latest sometime next week

-Y ay♬ 6/11/2022

[peppermint-angel]

i asked what animal do you associate me with and leo, shinobu, and riddle said butterfly 🦋 (leo and riddle both said pink butterfly) and epel said duck 🦆, i really can’t complain

[oyster-sauce-tart]

ENSEMBLE STARS MASTERLIST

Last update: 02.25.23

SINGLE WORKS

NO CONTENT YET

SERIES

Realizations (IbaHaji crack fic, AO3 link)

[mxdarling]

[Ensemble Stars!! Music]

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

ೃ⁀➷: Last updated: 07/27/2023

’, FINE Unit;꒱ ↷

↳-The heavenly orchestra-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, TRICKSTAR Unit;꒱ ↷

↳-The southern cross sparkling in the night sky!-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, RYUSEITAI Unit;꒱ ↷

↳-Heroes burning with passion ☆-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, ALKALOID;꒱ ↷

↳-Piercing through the suit of your heart! ☆-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, EDEN;꒱ ↷

↳-An eternal paradise that tempts the heart ☆-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, VALKYRIE;꒱ ↷

↳-A museum of art interwoven ☆-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, 2WINK;꒱ ↷

↳-Together as one happy melody ☆-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, CRAZY: B;꒱ ↷

↳-Bees flying free-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, UNDEAD;꒱ ↷

↳-A Wild Hunt in the Dead of Night-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, RA*BBITS;꒱ ↷

↳-A toy box packed with dreams-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, AKATSUKI;꒱ ↷

↳-Steady, Graceful Beauty Illuminated by Moonlight-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, KNIGHTS;꒱ ↷

↳-An order of knights devoting songs to you-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, SWITCH;꒱ ↷

↳-A magical party of everlasting happiness-༉‧₊˚✧

┆ ┆ ┆જ ✾

’, MaM;꒱ ↷

↳-Bringing heart-pounding thrills to you!-༉‧₊˚✧

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅• •❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

[chill-pills-yandere-haven]

To Soothe a Heartache

An: Kaoru apology piece! My search history for this thing too lol. Isolation works a lot faster than it's portrayed to in media. The average person can't go longer than a day in extreme isolation (extreme basically meaning adding in sensory deprivation from how the studies pose it)

Tw: yandere, implied isolation, implied kidnapping, man is abusive, mind break, Stockholm? Either of those two. (Little hint, read between the lines because Kaoru... Isn't the most reliable)

Today was perfect.

Nice and hot, blue skies with just a little bit of clouds in them, the smell of the beach, and having you by Kaoru's side. You held his hand as usual. You liked to hold on tight to Kaoru and hated to let go or have him leave you for even a second.

Completely perfect.

You sat in Kaoru's lap on a beach chair, loosely hugging him. The fact that you were willingly cuddling him again, the oceanic scene, and just everything about you made him happy beyond belief.

The perfect date for the both of you.

You were so obedient nowadays too!

No more fighting or trying to push Kaoru away, instead, you willingly embraced him, in both forms of the word.

 Yes, you may have been a little 'damaged', but it was necessary for your relationship to flourish.

After all, everything he did, he did out of pure and utter love for you.

He heard of you from rumours first. 

A seductive type who practically made your dreams come true.

Of course, being who Kaoru was, he was interested.

Then he met you for himself.

He knew you were pursuing him in the beginning. Kaoru thought he'd have enough experience and caution to not fall head over heels for you, But there was just something about you.

Something about you made him feel complete.

You filled the hole that was drilled into his heart with his mother's death and his ever painful relationship with his family.

He just had to have you.

So he took you for himself.

 

He even gave you a place, it was pleasant and roomy too. A nice big room in one of the houses his father gave him. It was quiet and secluded there too, in a sleepy rural area that was easy to get to from the city.

 

He was good to you. He cared for your every need and want. He took good care of you. Kaoru was a good boyfriend, a good lover.

Yet you always seemed to fight him.

You wouldn't even let Kaoru hug you. And it depressed him deeply. You even tried to leave him on multiple occasions, saying that Kaoru was holding you captive. You ignored him, pretended he wasn't even there.

He just wanted your touch, he wanted that unconditional love of yours to return. He wanted you to let him in, let him love you.

Weeks went by, same as always no matter what Kaoru did.

He was starting to tire of your defiant tendencies.

He had read studies on isolation before…

It only took a few hours to put most people into a highly volatile emotional state if they were in full isolation…

Though considering the situation, he could just play it safe and do it for the whole day…

It was the practically same strategy he usually used to make women fall for him. He just needed something stronger to get you emotional enough for him to work with. Invoke high emotions and ride the waves…

Maybe he could.

But that would be bad, wouldn't it?

But both of you had to be tired of all this…

He'd be doing your relationship a solid, just reminding you of how much you loved him…

It truly pained Kaoru to hear you scream for him. 

You begged to be let out after only an hour.

And all he had to do was blindfold you, put some good noise cancelling headphones on you, and tie you up in a cozy and safe room in the house.

Eventually, when he knew it was the right time, Kaoru let you out, taking all of the makeshift sensory deprivation equipment off you. 

Immediately, you ran into his arms and held Kaoru tight.

He could feel your love for him, your heart was racing and your breathing unsteady with just how much you loved him. You had even cried from how much you missed him.

 Perfect.

See? He knew you just needed a little push. You said that you'd be a good lover for him and tried to hold Kaoru as close as possible. You even asked to sleep in his bed for the night.

That was the first time you slept in the same bed as him.

And he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

From then on, everything was so bright and pleasant for Kaoru.

You were finally warming up to him, being friendly and truly being his lover.

You cuddled with him, said I love you, even initiated affection with him. 

Kaoru just knew that everything was going to be perfect from then on.

Now this? This was heavenly.

He could be as clingy and loving ad he wanted now as well. And of course, you held Kaoru's hand below the waters.

Kaoru had persuaded you into going in the ocean with him, a life jacket on just in case of course. After all, you did have a tendency to get all… distant at times. No matter, he'd love you no matter how you were. 

After all, you were the only thing that could soothe his heartache.

[hisui-dreamer]

Can I have orange blossoms with jade leech for eternal love and marriage please? Thankyou!

is it love or just really nice flowers?

Pairing: Jade Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: jade likes giving you flowers, it probably doesn't mean anything special though... right?

Tags: fluff, pining, slowish burn, eels are cowards, mentions of marriage, reader likes flowers

Word count: 1.2k+

Notes: thank you for requesting anon!! i had a lot of fun squealing when writing this one hehe

Masterlist

flower of choice: orange blossoms

orange blossoms symbolise eternal love and marriage, and they are often used in wedding ceremonies as symbols of purity and eternal love

You suppose it all started on your first Valentine’s Day in Twisted Wonderland.

As a member of the Mostro Lounge staff, you found yourself amidst the bustling atmosphere of the Mostro Lounge, where Azul's ambitious plans to capitalize on the love-filled holiday were in full swing. The lounge pulsated with the presence of couples occupying every available table.

Soft, dim lighting cast a warm glow over the space, enveloping everything in an air of intimacy and mystery. The gentle hum of conversation and laughter filled the air, mingling with the smooth melodies of jazz music drifting from hidden speakers.

Couples nestled into plush velvet booths, their faces illuminated by the soft light, lost in each other's eyes and whispers. Waiters moved gracefully between tables, delivering trays adorned with exotic beverages and plates of delectable meals, their steps silent against the plush carpeting.

But what caught your eye the most were the bouquets given to significant others, adorning the tables like precious jewels. Each one was a masterpiece in its own right, meticulously selected and arranged to convey the deepest sentiments of adoration.

"It must be nice receiving flowers…" you murmured to yourself, lost in thought.

“You would like to receive flowers?”

You snapped your head around at the sound of Jade's voice, finding him with a curious expression on his face. Surprise flickered in your eyes at his question, but a smile bloomed on your lips as you considered receiving flowers from someone.

“Yeah," you replied, a hint of longing in your voice, "who wouldn't? Receiving gifts makes you feel so appreciated. Plus, who wouldn't be happy looking at something pretty?"

Jade took a moment to mull over your words, his gaze thoughtful. Eventually, he nodded in agreement. "Hmm… I see. That does sound quite lovely," he acknowledged.

The conversation was quickly cut short when new orders and tasks arrived. In the whirlwind of never-ending tasks, the conversation had slipped from your mind almost entirely, until he appeared later that week, returning from a hiking trip with a delightful surprise in tow.

"Here, Prefect," he began, his voice gentle as he produced a bouquet of orange blossoms from behind his back. "These are for you," he offered with a soft smile.

The bouquet was a sight to behold, a delicate ensemble of ivory-hued blooms that exuded an ethereal beauty. Each flower boasted star-shaped petals, arranged in a symmetrical fashion around a central cluster of stamens. These stamens, adorned with tips of yellow to orange hues, stood out like tiny flames amidst the pristine white petals, adding a touch of vibrant colour to the otherwise pure palette. With their intricate details and subtle fragrance, the orange blossoms seemed to radiate a quiet elegance, captivating all who beheld their serene charm.

You couldn't help but notice the faintest flush of pink tinting his ears, and your own heart skipped a beat in response. You were well aware of the symbolism behind orange blossoms—eternal love and marriage. But surely, Jade couldn't mean that, could he?

"You brought these for me?" you asked, a mix of surprise and delight colouring your tone.

Jade nodded, a warmth spreading through him at your delight. "Yes, I thought you might like them," he admitted softly.

As you accepted the bouquet, a rush of emotions flooded over you. The delicate scent of the orange blossoms enveloped you, filling your senses with a sweet, intoxicating aroma. Mesmerized, you found yourself unable to look away from the vibrant blooms, each one a masterpiece of nature, without a single flaw in sight.

Jade's gaze remained fixed on yours, his expression tender and sincere. It was as though he was studying your reaction with unwavering attention, and a flutter of anticipation stirred in your chest at the vulnerability he revealed.

"Thank you, Jade," you said, your voice barely above a whisper but filled with sincerity. "These are beautiful."

A relieved smile spread across Jade's face, his eyes alight with a mixture of joy and relief. "I'm glad you like them," he murmured, his voice tinged with warmth.

Though you’re not sure why, Jade had made it a habit to always bring back a bouquet of orange blossoms for you from his hiking trips.

"It doesn't really bother me," he'd say with a closed-eye smile, "since it's on the way."

Each time he presented you with the blooms, your heart fluttered with joy. Yet, you hesitated to believe there were underlying intentions behind his gift. After all, Jade had always been kind to you, and you couldn't fathom the idea of him harbouring romantic feelings.

As the end of his third year at NRC approached, a bittersweet anticipation filled the air. The impending farewell weighed heavy on your heart, mingling with a sense of melancholy. Although Jade promised to visit during breaks and holidays, the thought of no longer seeing him every day stung with loneliness.

Summer break was nearing, and the campus was buzzing with students bidding farewells and exchanging hugs. Amidst the flurry of goodbyes, Jade sought you out, as he always did, with a bouquet of orange blossoms cradled in his arms. His smile was tinged with a hint of sadness as he approached you, and you felt a lump form in your throat at the sight of him.

"These are for you," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he handed the flowers to you.

You accepted the bouquet with trembling hands, the weight of the moment settling heavily upon you. The sweet fragrance of the orange blossoms enveloped you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to dispel the sorrow that threatened to consume you.

"Thank you, Jade," you managed to say, your voice choked with emotion.

“I... I don’t wish for this to be the last time I give you flowers,” he confessed softly, his eyes searching yours with earnest sincerity. “Will you really not consider marriage with me?"

A heavy silence hung between you, each moment feeling weighted with unspoken words and unexpressed feelings. Then, Jade reached out to cup your cheek, guiding your gaze to meet his.

Caught off guard by his heartfelt plea, your eyes widened in astonishment. "Jade, I... I never realized... You…"

"But you knew, didn't you? You must have..." Jade's voice trembled with vulnerability. "Every flower, every gesture—it was all for you."

Your mind raced, memories flashing before your eyes like a vivid tapestry woven from moments shared together. Each bouquet, each flower—he had poured his heart into every gesture, his feelings hidden in plain sight all along.

Tears shimmered in your eyes as understanding washed over you like a gentle wave crashing upon the shore. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and you realized the depth of his devotion, the sincerity of his love.

“Yes, Jade," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath but filled with certainty. "Yes, a thousand times, yes."

The next thing you know, his lips are pressed against yours in a tender, passionate embrace. In that fleeting moment, the world around you faded into insignificance, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the sweetness of his kiss, and the promise of a love that would endure through every trial and triumph.

Masterlist

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[xtra7s]

𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗧 (𝗪𝗟𝗪) ──── 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Renee and y/x broke up a few years ago, falling out of contact instantly. Y/n is a photographer, and went to an event for a job, unaware it was for her ex girlfriend, Renee Rapp.

Content: Renee Rapp x female reader, pure fluff. Enjoy lovies.

Word Count: 955

masterlist

The glow of city lights danced on the horizon as Renee Rapp stood on the rooftop of a chic restaurant, her silhouette framed by the ambient glow. She was in the midst of a lively gathering, a celebration of a successful movie premiere where her talent shone both on-screen and through her vocal prowess in the film's soundtrack.

It was a night of accomplishments, a night she couldn't help but savor.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Y/N found herself in attendance, drawn by the allure of the event. As a photographer and a presence in the pop culture, she couldn't miss the chance to witness the culmination of the star's talents. Little did she know that the evening held more surprises in store, especially the fact that the event was centered on her ex girlfriend.

The night air carried a sense of anticipation, and as Renee moved gracefully through the crowd, she caught sight of a familiar face – Y/N. The years apart had done nothing to diminish the spark of recognition in Renee's eyes. There, amid the glamorous backdrop of the city, memories resurfaced like echoes of a familiar melody.

Renee could almost see the last interaction they had when she closed her eyes, the spilled maroon staining her dress, the anger in your eyes.

A cautious smile played on Y/N's lips as Renee approached. "Long time no see," she greeted, her voice carrying a blend of nostalgia and warmth.

Renee's smile mirrored Y/N's, and she replied, "Indeed. It's been a while."

The two stood there, caught in a moment suspended between the past and the present. A world of unspoken words lingered in the air, memories of laughter and shared dreams that had once defined their relationship.

"You look amazing, Renee," Y/N complimented, her gaze appreciating the elegant ensemble that adorned the actress-singer.

"Thank you," Renee replied, her eyes not veering away from Y/N's. "You look stunning, as always."

As the night progressed, the two found themselves drawn into a conversation that flowed effortlessly, dancing around the edges of the past without delving too deeply. They spoke of their respective journeys over the past two years, the highs, the lows, and the lessons learned along the way.

The rooftop offered a breathtaking view of the cityscape, the twinkling lights below creating a romantic backdrop to their reunion. Amid the laughter and animated chatter of the celebration, a sense of ease settled between Renee and Y/N.

As they shared stories and caught up on lost time, a gentle melody began playing in the background. The strains of a familiar tune filled the air,

'American Wedding' by Frank Ocean returning them both to the nights they spent moving around her living room in sync.

Renee's eyes twinkled as the music played, and she extended her hand to Y/N. "Care for a dance?" she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before accepting, allowing herself to be led into a cultivated dance under the starlit sky. The world around them faded into the background as they moved together, a silent conversation unfolding in the dance.

"It's surreal, isn't it?" Renee remarked as the faded out when her gaze fixed on Y/N's eyes.

"What is?" Y/N inquired, her heart beating in tandem with the gentle rhythm of the music.

"Being here with you, under the stars, like we're back in that apartment all those years ago," Renee confessed, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Y/N couldn't help but smile in return. "Life has a way of surprising us."

The dance continued, a seamless blend of shared memories and unspoken promises. In that moment, surrounded by the city's lights and the gentle embrace of the night, it felt like time had folded in on itself, bringing them back to a familiar space where the world seemed to pause.

As the music reached its final notes, Renee and Y/N found themselves standing close, the distance between them bridged by shared glances and the unspoken understanding that had always lingered beneath the surface.

"I'm glad we ran into each other tonight," Y/N admitted, her voice soft.

"Me too," Renee replied, her hand finding its way to Y/N's, their fingers intertwining. "Life is unpredictable, but sometimes it brings you back to where you're meant to be."

Y/N nodded, a warmth spreading through her. "Maybe we needed this."

The night continued, the celebration unfolding around them. Renee and Y/N remained in each other's company, navigating the delicate balance between the echoes of the past and the possibilities of the future.

As the event came to a close, Renee turned to Y/N with a sincerity that mirrored the sparkle in her eyes. "Can we do this again? Grab a coffee, catch up without all of this?" Renee asks hopefully, gesturing to the party happening around you.

Y/N smiled, feeling a sense of comfort in the simplicity of the suggestion. "I'd like that."

And so, against the backdrop of a city that never slept, Renee and Y/N embraced the notion of a fresh start. As they walked away from the celebratory scene, the echoes of their shared laughter and the gentle melody of a serendipitous reunion lingered in the air, their voices fading from the scene behind them.

"There's an old song I wrote for you, 'forever will last', I think it went something like that. It would've played every wedding night."

[alwaysmicado]

save your tears

4.6k | 18+ MDNI | Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Warnings: dubcon (sex while high), alcohol & drugs, unprotected piv, rough sex, choking, loss of virginity, mention of blood, degradation/praise, hurt no comfort, mean!Dieter Summary: It’s your lucky night! Your favorite movie star, Dieter Bravo, picks you up at a club and takes you home. You don’t want to blow it by telling him you’re a virgin, do you? A/N: Never meet your heroes...and please don’t fuck Dieter Bravo raw without seeing a notarized STD test first. I’m super excited to share this fic with you and I really hope you’ll enjoy it!! Let me know your thoughts! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist

Another kiss with a stranger, another fiery shot of tequila, another night immersed in the opulence of a luxurious club in the heart of Beverly Hills.

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the venue, drowning out any coherent thought. A sea of bodies sways in a synchronized rhythm, lost in the intoxication of the music, the free-flowing drinks, and the swirling lights.

You and your friends are no exception, caught up in the vibrant chaos of the dance floor, laughing and moving to the infectious energy of the night.

The tight dress you’ve chosen for the night clings to your every curve, a sleek fabric that accentuates the enticing contours of your body. Its deep, midnight black hue embraces you like a second skin, tracing the delicate curve of your breasts, descending sensuously over your torso, and accentuating the gentle swell of your hips.

As you move, the straps, delicate and barely there, become ethereal threads, caressing your skin with each sway and twirl on the dance floor. The dress’s neckline is daring, a subtle plunge that hints at mystery and allure, inviting the eyes to linger for just a moment longer.

Your choice of footwear is equally as captivating. The heels, sleek and strappy, elevate your posture and add a tantalizing sway to your every step. The ensemble not only looks exquisite but feels like a second skin. In this carefully chosen outfit, you feel an undeniable sense of confidence and allure – you feel like a goddess.

As the night progresses, and a few shots later, you find yourself losing inhibitions with each beat. The alcohol warms your veins, and the euphoria of the moment takes over. The atmosphere inside the club is charged with excitement, the air thick with the scent of perfume, sweat, and anticipation.

And then you see him.

Amidst the crowd, your gaze collides with a pair of intense, dark eyes that seem to cut through the chaotic haze. Recognition strikes you like a bolt of lightning – Dieter Bravo, the famous Oscar winner, stands at the fringes of the dance floor, his gaze fixed on you.

The look in his eyes is predatory, stirring desire deep within you. He gestures with a subtle nod of his head towards the exit, a silent command that sends your heart racing.

You excuse yourself to your friends, your words lost in the overwhelming discord of music and laughter. They barely register your departure, the night unfolding in a blur of colors and sound. The crisp air outside is a welcome contrast, a momentary escape from the heated chaos within.

You take a deep breath.

Before you know what’s happening, a strong pair of hands seizes you, pushing you against the cold exterior wall of the club. It’s Dieter, his eyes burning with desire as he takes in the sight of you. His words come out in a low, husky whisper that sends shivers down your spine.

“You’re so beautiful, baby, I couldn’t take my eyes off you,” he confesses, his breath hot against your ear. You’re trembling slightly as he pulls back a little to look into your eyes, one hand planted on the wall next to your head, the other gently cupping your hot cheek. His touch sends a jolt through your entire being and your skin tingles beneath his fingertips.

“Why don’t we take this party to a more private setting, hm? My place is just around the corner,” he murmurs, his gaze searching yours for a sign of rejection.

His proposition hangs in the air, a surreal moment that seems too fantastical to be real. Dieter Bravo, a man renowned for having his pick of any woman he desires, wants you to come home with him?

You hesitate for a fleeting moment, the thrill and exhilaration of the unexpected encounter mingling with a feeling of unease. Is this a good idea?

Oh, fuck it. 

With a breathless nod, you give in to the magnetic pull of his desire. You’re never gonna get a chance like this again in your life.

Dieter’s eyes flicker with satisfaction at your willingness and a self-assured smirk plays on his lips. “Smart choice, beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive, intertwining with the rhythm of the music coming from inside.

With a confident yet gentle touch, he guides you to his waiting car, his warm palm resting on the small of your back.

His driver awaits, a stoic figure leaning against the passenger door with crossed arms, well-acquainted with the routine of escorting the renowned womanizer and his conquests. The man looks a few years older than Dieter, and as you approach, you can’t help but ponder the untold tales and silent observations this seasoned driver must harbor as living witness to the enigmatic world of his famous boss.

Dieter leans in to whisper something into the driver’s ear, a private exchange that ends with a wink and a grin directed at you. With a confident saunter, he rounds the car, slipping into the back seat from the other side.

“Good evening, Miss,” the driver greets you with a practiced courtesy, opening the back door and gesturing for you to step inside. In that fleeting moment, as he meets your gaze, you detect a subtle flicker of concern in his eyes, swiftly masked before you fully register its presence.

You swiftly dismiss the uneasy feeling that briefly fluttered within you and gracefully slide into the luxurious car, taking the seat beside Dieter. The plush interior envelops you, a cocoon of opulence that showcases the movie star’s wealth. As the door closes with a muted thud, the insulating quiet of the vehicle amplifies your anticipation.

The car ride is a blur of sensations.

Dieter pulls you onto his lap, his lips finding yours in a fervent kiss. His hands explore the contours of your body, a mix of escalating desire and urgency palpable in every touch. 

Glancing at the rearview mirror, the driver is a silent witness to a scene that unfolds with unsettling familiarity. Dieter’s reputation as a notorious womanizer is well-known, but the silent driver remains impassive, steering the car towards your destination.

“Fuck, baby,” Dieter whispers against your lips, his erection straining painfully against his pants. “You wanna sit on my cock right here or wait ‘til we’re home?”

You sensuously roll your hips, and he responds by squeezing your ass, a deep, guttural groan escaping his lips at the tantalizing friction.

“I want you to take me in your bed,” you purr, as the champagne and tequila flowing through your veins embolden you.

“Alright, beautiful,” he murmurs between sloppy kisses to your neck and jaw, his hand tracing the delicate skin of your shoulder before sliding down the strap of your dress with practiced ease. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Every word Dieter utters, every caress of his hands, the heady scent of his cologne—the fact that your idol, a man larger than life, is currently drunk off your beauty—adds fuel to the intoxicating fire that courses through your body, making you acutely aware of the pulsating ache and growing wetness between your thighs.

You’ve never wanted to fuck anyone this badly.

Dieter slides down the other strap of your dress, the fabric yielding to his touch as he pulls it down, leaving it to pool around your waist and revealing your naked chest.

“Goddamn, your tits are perfect,” he whispers in awe, his hands tracing a delicate path from your shoulders down to your breasts, cupping one in each hand. “I almost forgot how good real ones feel.”

Your smile widens in response to his comment, relishing the sensation of Dieter Bravo praising your tits.

He massages them, softly at first, his touch a gentle prelude that gradually escalates in intensity as you wrap your arms around his neck, deepening your kiss, moaning against his lips. Your body responds eagerly, writhing on his lap, your swollen clit rhythmically rubbing against his hard bulge, each movement eliciting a wave of pleasure that has your eyes fluttering shut and your back arching.

Dieter leans in, spurred on by the movement of your body and your little moans of pleasure, pressing your tits together with a hunger that mirrors his escalating passion. His kisses are sloppy, a mixture of lust and possessiveness as he licks and sucks on your nipples, twirling his tongue around them.

The sensations alternate between pleasure and a tingling pain as he bites down, eliciting a desperate whimper from you that he hungrily absorbs by pressing his lips against yours once more. 

“This your first time fucking a real movie star, baby?” he murmurs, trailing kisses and bites down your sensitive neck.

Your head is spinning, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he just asked you. Even if it weren’t true, you’d be smart enough to stroke his famously big ego and tell him what he wants to hear. But, in this case, it is true.

“Yeah,” you breathe, your fingers tangled in his now-disheveled curls.

God, his hair is soft. The thought crosses your mind that being a millionaire must afford you great hair care. Just one of the perks of being one of the chosen ones, you muse with a smile.

“I promise you’ll be thinking of me every time you fuck someone else after I’m done with you, darling,” he smirks at you, satisfied with the fact he’s the first man of his stature you’ve experienced.

If he wasn’t already rock-hard before, he would be now.

You giggle and bite your lip, your dilated pupils telling Dieter everything he needs to know – you want him as badly as he wants you.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you purr, leaning in to suck and nibble on his neck while rolling your hips again.

“Oh shit,” he whispers, letting his head fall against the headrest and gripping your hips with his hands. “I knew you were a bad girl the second I saw you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Good girls don’t rub their needy little pussy on some stranger’s cock minutes after they met.” His breathing is strained, and he needs to concentrate hard to not come in his pants. “Good girls also don’t let me do a line off their perfect tits.” 

You pull back a little to look into his eyes, and he raises an eyebrow.

Against your better judgment, you nod, and he reaches into the right pocket of his pants to retrieve the biggest coke baggie you’ve ever seen. Goddamn, how does this guy get any acting gigs done if he does massive amounts of coke like this? His manager must be nothing short of a god.

“Push them together, baby,” he says, watching hungrily as you take your tits and press them together to create enough surface for him to put his powder on. “Fuck, that’s it.”

He pours a generous amount onto your skin, creating a line with his finger.

“You’re so fucking hot, baby,” he murmurs, planting a kiss on your warm lips. His gaze drops to the line of coke on your tits before he lowers his head, presses a finger on his right nostril, and inhales the powder in one swift motion.

The lewd, forbidden feeling of letting him do drugs off your body has your pussy clench around nothing. You’re beyond turned on.

“Phew!” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “This is some primo shit, holy fuck. You wanna try?”

Dieter’s eyes find yours as he wipes his nose and tilts his head. “You’re never gonna find something this pure again.”

“Sure, why not,” you coo, succumbing to the excitement of the moment. One more bad decision’s not gonna kill you, right?

“Such a bad girl,” he murmurs with a smirk, then pours some coke on the back of his hand. He arranges it in a line for you and brings it closer to your face.

The fine white powder lies on his skin like a whisper of the night, and with a quick, controlled motion, you inhale. The sensation is immediate, a rush that starts from the point of contact and spirals into a heady euphoria. The sharp intensity sends a tingling sensation through your nostrils, a mix of heat and exhilaration.

In that fleeting moment, the world seems to shift.

The pulsating lights of the city take on a surreal glow, and the hum of the car’s engine becomes a rhythmic accompaniment to the rush coursing through your veins. The nightclub’s music, still echoing in your ears, melds with your newfound energy, creating a synesthetic experience that blurs the boundaries between the external world and your internal sensations.

You’ve never felt this much like yourself and not like yourself at the same time before—it’s surreal.

A tingling warmth radiates through your body, a sensation that is both invigorating and disorienting, like an electrifying surge that momentarily disconnects you from reality.

Dieter watches in real time as the coke takes effect and your pupils dilate further, your features signaling an intensified awareness of your surroundings.

“That’s it, baby,” you hear him purr before you feel his hand on the back of your neck, pulling you into a messy kiss.

You’re not entirely sure how you made it to Dieter’s bedroom.

– – –

His sheets are incredibly soft, some sort of luxurious fabric that feels heavenly against your naked skin. You’re clad only in your panties, lying on your back with Dieter on top of you, your legs spread to accommodate his hips. 

You hear music coming from a speaker somewhere in the room – he must’ve put it on when you got in. You moan as he kisses your neck, his warm tongue and lips tracing your skin, nibbling, biting, marking you. 

He props himself up with his forearms on the bed beside your head, the soft hair on his belly grazing against your skin with each rhythmic movement of his hips.

“Look at me, baby,” he tells you, breathless, eager to finally bury himself in your pussy. You open your bloodshot eyes, biting your lip at the delicious pressure he’s putting on your clit.

“Tell me you want me.”

He caresses your cheek, his fingertips leaving a tingling sensation on your hot skin. You nod in response and moan when his hard cock rubs against your sensitive clit once again.

“Hey,” he taps your cheek not so gently and bores his eyes into you. “Use your words.”

You’re startled, but a grin forms on your lips as your foggy brain registers what he’s asking.

“I want you, Dieter,” you coo, your nails digging into the meat of his ass. “I want you to fuck me.” His lips crash against yours in an instant, and you whisper, “Please,” against them as your mind drifts off into another realm again.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs as he straightens up to take off his boxer briefs. “I’m gonna give you exactly what you need.”

Your eyes follow the movement of Dieter’s hands, mesmerized, watching in slow motion as his cock springs free. Fuck. It’s a lot bigger than you’d imagined, and it’s so…beautiful. You wish he’d put it in your mouth for you to taste it, but since you can feel him pulling down your panties, you guess he’s gonna go straight to fucking your pussy.

You feel his hands on your thighs as he positions himself between your spread legs. Then, you watch as he spits on his hand and strokes his cock. You moan at the sight, wanting nothing more than for him to take you, to ravage you, to become one with you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, baby,” he murmurs more to himself than to you, haphazardly swiping his fingers through your dripping wet folds. You can’t hold back the moan that escapes your lips when he brushes your clit.

He scoots closer, and you can feel the hairs on his thighs against yours as he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance. It’s warm, slippery, feels kinda nice. You close your eyes and turn your head.

This is it. You’re gonna have sex for the first time. 

And with none other than Dieter fucking Bravo – Oscar winner, movie star, womanizer extraordinaire. If you weren’t so out of it, you’d laugh at the ludicrousness of the situation.

He pushes in with one slow, deliberate thrust, savoring the feeling of each inch gradually disappearing into your body.

You inhale sharply, your breath catching at the initial discomfort of his cock stretching you. Your brow furrows in response, and you instinctively grip the sheets with your hands, a mix of pleasure and mild pain coursing through your body.

“Holy shit, your pussy’s tight,” Dieter groans, his hips stuttering at the sensation of being completely sheathed in you. “Feels so fucking good.”

He withdraws again just as you begin to acclimate to the girth of his cock inside you, leaving you whimpering at the sudden loss. Your hypersensitive system is so overloaded with sensations that it compels you to moan, whine, and writhe under his touch, uncertain of how to process everything you’re feeling and experiencing.

Dieter chuckles at your desperate little noises, more than ready to give you as much of his cock as he can, and to show you pleasure you didn’t know you were capable of.

If there’s one thing he takes pride in, it’s leaving his sex partners thoroughly satisfied, mind empty, covered in cum, and wanting more.

He spreads you open again in one smooth movement, your pussy eagerly devouring every inch. Pleased with your moans and the tight grip of your walls, he grabs your thighs and shifts his weight, pressing them against the mattress to penetrate you even deeper.

“Fuck,” is all you can get out as he sets a brutal pace, pushing your body up the bed repeatedly. His cock relentlessly strikes a deep spot within you, each thrust accompanied by the rhythmic slap of his balls against your ass.

“That’s it, baby. Take my fucking cock. Fuck, you’re the best slut I’ve had in a while.”

Dieter wants you to scream his name and come all over his cock. Sure. But he’s greedy and craves more than your physical surrender. He wants to etch his name into the very fabric of your desires, your being, a memory that will linger in your thoughts for the rest of your life.

The initial discomfort you’ve experienced slowly gives way to raw, carnal pleasure, a drug-induced dance of sensations that leaves you breathless. Dieter’s movements are harsh, designed to bring you to your limits, and you find yourself meeting his thrusts with an eagerness that surprises you.

The vast expanse of Dieter’s bedroom is filled with the intoxicating sound of your moans and smacking flesh, creating a dizzying symphony that envelops you in the throes of ecstasy.

“Look at me,” you hear him growl somewhere over you, and when you don’t budge, you feel his bruising grip on your jaw. “Hey, I’m not telling you again.”

You open your eyes, your eyelids so heavy you need to summon all of your strength to pry them open. Dieter’s face hovers close to yours, his breaths ragged, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, tracing a path down his temples.

His eyes are dark, hungry, dangerous. He gazes at you like he wants to devour you, to consume you wholly. You sense the intensity of his desire, and you’re more than ready to surrender to it.

You feel his hands tighten around your neck, the diminishing flow of oxygen to your brain heightening your senses even more. As your vision blurs and your pulse quickens, you’re caught in a paradoxical dance of ecstasy and fear, an exhilarating moment that pushes you to the brink.

Dieter deliberately hits your G-spot over and over again, his cock throbbing and leaking precum at your increasingly loud moans and spasming walls. 

“Is this what you wanted, huh?” he pants, intensifying the grip on your neck and the force of his thrusts. Instinctively, you start clawing at his arms. “What a sick little thing you are, getting off on me hurting you.” 

Your eyes roll back and you feel yourself slipping away as Dieter’s pelvis puts enough pressure on your clit to bring you closer to climax with every roll of his hips.

“Oh fuck,” you faintly hear Dieter’s voice, “you’re choking the shit out of me, holy–”

You don’t hear the end of his sentence as an abrupt, violent orgasm takes over your body and mind in waves. Your walls spasm and contract uncontrollably around Dieter’s cock, every single muscle in your body tensing as you release a silent scream, caught in a tumultuous mix of ecstasy and distress.

Dieter lets go of your neck and bites down on your shoulder as he comes, emptying himself deep inside you with a guttural groan. His cock pulsates as your pussy eagerly milks and swallows up every last drop of his seed. 

He pulls out of you and collapses onto the mattress, his chest heaving, heart racing, utterly spent. His cum leaks out of you, pooling on the sheets between your thighs.

The room is heavy with the lingering scent of sex as Dieter finally catches his breath. Sweat glistens on his forehead and chest, and his erratic breaths permeate the air. You lie there, silent and still, your body sore, and your mind in turmoil.

The reality of the moment slowly dawns on you – every heartbeat sobering you up a bit more, tangled emotions leaving you disoriented.

Shit. What have you done?

“That was…holy shit,” Dieter chuckles beside you as he props his head up on his hand.

His face falls immediately as he glances at the bloodstains on the sheets. His eyes widen in shock, and a pang of guilt hits him deep. He wasn’t gentle, and you never spoke up. The room is silent for a moment before he breaks it, his voice sharp and accusatory.

“You’re bleeding.” His eyes meet yours, and the storm within them is unsettling. Your heart beats rapidly, fear coursing through you. “Tell me this isn’t what I fucking think it is.”

You look away, a lump forming in your sore throat. “I...I didn’t expect it to hurt so much,” you admit, your voice barely audible.

“Oh my fucking god.” Dieter’s tone is harsh, his face contorted with a mixture of confusion and anger. He swiftly rises from the bed, the mattress shuddering under his abrupt departure. His pacing is agitated, a restless back-and-forth that adds to the already palpable tension between you two.

You sit up against the headboard and pull up the covers to shield yourself from the chilling air that envelops you. You’re shivering. 

“Why the hell didn’t you say something? Are you trying to ruin me?”

Your heart drops. “Wha–”

His accusations hang in the air, and the room feels suffocating. Deep down, Dieter knows he should feel remorse for his actions, but instead, he redirects his hurt feelings towards you. The drugs and alcohol coursing through his system amplify his irrationality and paranoia.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice rises, echoing off the walls. “Is this some sick ploy to get your fifteen minutes of fame or some shit? To expose me?”

You’re left stunned, the whirlwind of pain, confusion, and the sting of betrayal clouding your mind. The vulnerability you shared just moments ago morphs into an uncomfortable reality, a hurtful reminder of what you were to him — a warm, nameless body he could fuck.

And now, you’re a nuisance at best, and a PR nightmare at worst. 

“Dieter, it’s nothing like that," you say, pleading, attempting to diffuse the escalating tension as the walls close in on the shattered remnants of a fun night. “I didn’t know how to tell you and…it’s not a big deal, I’m okay.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he shouts, shaking his head in frustration. “I wouldn’t have fucked you like that if I you’d told me you were–” he cuts himself off, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

The resentment in his gaze sends a shiver down your spine, making your blood run cold.

“Dieter–”

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Please, I’m sor–”

“Get the fuck out!” he roars, the anger in his eyes intensifying.

You immediately get up and scramble to get your clothes back on, your hands shaking. You grab your belongings, trying to maintain a shred of dignity as you hastily dress.

Dieter, seething with anger and regret, roughly hands you a wad of cash from his nightstand when you’re done. 

“Here, take this. Get a Plan B or whatever the hell you need, and keep your mouth shut.”

You stare at the money in your hand, then at the man who’s throwing you out in the middle of the night after taking your virginity. The bills are cold in your hand, and you crumple them up, throwing them back at him.

“I’m not your whore, Dieter. Go to hell!”

Heels in hand, you make your way past him and out the door. You don’t stop as he calls after you, his voice strained with genuine remorse.

“I’m sorry!”

He really is.

– – –

The cold night air hits you like a slap, tears blurring your vision as you stumble away from Dieter’s mansion, the weight of what just transpired inside heavy on your shoulders.

His hurtful words echo in your mind, the throbbing pain between your legs intensifying with every step you take. Your breath falters in the frigid air, and you clutch your arms tightly around you as you make your way toward the waiting car.

The driver, standing beside the sleek vehicle, regards you with a mixture of concern and pity. His eyes have seen this scene unfold countless times before – another half-naked girl leaving his boss’s home in disarray.

You hate the way he looks at you, as if he knows more about your vulnerability than you’re willing to admit.

He opens the car door for you, and you gratefully sink into the plush leather seat. The warmth inside the car is a stark contrast to the chill outside, but it does little to ease the ache spreading through your body.

The driver takes his place behind the wheel, stealing glances at you through the rearview mirror.

“Where can I take you to, Miss?” His voice is gentle, filled with a practiced sympathy that makes your stomach churn. You hesitate for a moment, wrestling with the words you don’t want to say.

“Home,” you finally mumble, offering your address with a numb detachment. It feels like a betrayal, a surrender of your secret world to this stranger who witnesses the aftermath of Dieter Bravo’s fleeting affections.

The car glides through the silent streets, and you find yourself staring out of the window, the city lights blurred into a kaleidoscope of colors.

Your head is spinning, and the pain in your body intensifies with each passing moment. Tears escape as you touch the bruises on your neck, tracing silent paths down your cheeks. You wipe them away with the back of your hand, hoping the darkness conceals your shame.

The driver glances at you in the mirror.

“Are you alright, Miss?” he asks, his tone a delicate inquiry into the depths of your distress.

“Just…drive me home, please,” you whisper, your voice cracking with the weight of unshed tears. You don’t want his pity, his judgment. You just want to escape the haunting echoes of what happened tonight.

But you know that will never happen. Dieter got his wish after all.

You will forever remember him.

– – –

♥︎ Thank you for reading!! ♥︎

Dieter Bravo masterlist ♡ main masterlist

[lucybronzey]

secrets - lucy bronze

author's note: here's a little oneshot from my bronze lovers/supporters! you are more than welcome to buy me a coffee right here - link here! (all the donations go towards my medication and graduation fees) feedback is also welcome! enjoy! pairing: lucy bronze x f!reader warnings: none?? kissing??

The bustling city of London held its secrets close, none more so than the clandestine romance between Lucy Bronze, the world-renowned footballer, and Y/N, the mysterious singer who captivated hearts with her enchanting voice and captivating and challenging lyrics. The pair moved through life like shadows, their love known only to those who dared to read between the lines of the whispers that surrounded them.

Lucy, with her commanding presence on the football field, was a force to be reckoned with. Y/N, on the other hand, was a mistress of melodies, enchanting audiences with her voice that seemed to hold the echoes of forgotten tales. It was at an exclusive event, a gathering where the glittering lights of fame blurred into one another, that their paths first crossed.

The air was charged with the electric energy of possibility when Lucy, the renowned football star, caught sight of Y/N across the crowded room. Drawn by an invisible thread, she made her way through the sea of faces until she stood before the captivating singer. Their introduction was simple yet profound, a shared smile that hinted at the secrets yet to unfold.

From that moment, their connection grew in the hushed corners of the world, away from the prying eyes of the public. Yet, the paparazzi, those relentless seekers of truth in the dark alleys of fame, managed to infiltrate their haven. Cameras clicked discreetly, capturing stolen moments that spoke of love too potent to be hidden. Hands clasped in private, stolen kisses under the moonlit veil of secrecy, and glances exchanged like promises — these became the breadcrumbs scattered by the world, breadcrumbs that led anyone curious enough into the labyrinth of their concealed love.

The world, however, had a way of sneaking into the shadows. Paparazzi lenses clicked discreetly, capturing stolen moments of the couple's intimacy — hands clasped, stolen kisses and glances that spoke volumes. Despite the evidence splashed across tabloids and social media, Lucy and Y/N maintained a façade, their lips sealed tighter than the locked doors of their private world.

In the weeks leading up to the London O2 Arena performance, Y/N's world tour became a journey of both artistic expression and strategic evasion. Each city and stage presented an opportunity to share her music with the world while also distancing herself from the ever-watchful eyes of the media. The complexities of fame demanded a delicate dance between visibility and seclusion, and Y/N waltzed through it with the grace of a seasoned performer.

The London O2 Arena, standing as an iconic testament to the grandeur of live performances, loomed on the horizon like a chapter waiting to be written. As the date approached, the anticipation hung in the air, both for the audience eager to be enraptured by Y/N's voice and for Lucy, who would be among the privileged few in the guest box, a clandestine witness to the unfolding spectacle.

The night arrived with a hushed expectancy, the air thick with the promise of revelations. Lucy, adorned in an elegant ensemble, took her seat in the guest box, surrounded by family and football comrades. The entourage shared knowing glances, a silent acknowledgment of the secrets they guarded as they settled in to witness Y/N's artistry.

The stage, bathed in a soft glow, became a canvas for Y/N's narrative. The crowd, an ocean of faces, awaited the magic that was about to unfold. As Y/N stepped into the spotlight, the world around her faded into obscurity, and the music began to weave a tale that transcended the bounds of melody.

Y/N stood centre stage, bathed in the soft glow of the spotlight that seemed to halo her like a celestial aura. The London's O2 Arena, with its towering expanse, hung in rapt anticipation. The crowd, a sea of faces stretching to the farthest corners of the venue, held its collective breath. It was a moment suspended in time, the world hushed in reverence for the unveiling of a secret sonnet.

The opening chords of the new song reverberated through the arena, each note a brushstroke on the canvas of the night. Y/N's voice, a mellifluous melody that seemed to defy gravity, carried the audience into a realm where love and mystery intertwined. The lyrics, seemingly innocent to those unfamiliar with the intricacies of Y/N and Lucy's clandestine affair, held the depth of a carefully veiled confession.

"In the shadows, where whispers bloom, A tale untold, a love immune. Behind closed doors, where dreams entwine, Our secret dance, forever mine."

The words danced on Y/N's lips, each syllable dripping with the honeyed sweetness of revelation. It was a clandestine love letter, penned in the language of metaphors and concealed truths. To the unsuspecting ear, it might have sounded like a beautiful serenade, a generic ode to love's mysteries. However, for Lucy, seated in the guest box, each line resonated with an intimate resonance only she could fully comprehend.

Y/N's eyes, pools of sincerity, were fixed on Lucy. It was more than a performance; it was a communion, a shared moment of vulnerability disguised as an extravagant display. With every glance, Y/N conveyed the unspoken, silent dialogue that reached beyond the stage, beyond the spotlights and into the depths of Lucy's soul.

The crowd, oblivious to the intimate exchange transpiring on stage, swayed to the rhythm, caught in the enchantment of Y/N's artistry. The song, a tapestry woven with the threads of secrecy, wrapped itself around the audience like a cloak of intrigue. The applause that erupted after the final notes wasn't merely a celebration of a stellar performance; it was a collective acknowledgment of having witnessed something extraordinary, something that transcended the ordinary bounds of musical expression.

In the dimly lit guest box, Luce found herself immersed in a realm where the throb of her heart echoed the melody that had just cascaded through the O2 Arena. The cadence of the music intertwined with the rhythmic beats of her pulse, creating a symphony within her chest that resonated with the lyrical magic unfolding on stage.

As Y/N poured her soul into the performance, Lucy's gaze remained fixed on the singer, her eyes drinking in the visual power ballad painted before her. Each note seemed to brush against the walls of her heart, unlocking chambers of emotions that lay dormant but ever-present. It was as if the music had become a conduit, allowing Lucy to traverse the labyrinth of her own sentiments.

The lyrics, like a siren's call, beckoned Lucy into a world where vulnerability and passion coexisted. The song served as a mirror, reflecting the clandestine depths of their connection. Lucy felt the weight of each carefully chosen word, a testament to the intricacy of their love—a love that defied the constraints of public scrutiny.

The arena, a cavernous space filled with adoring fans and pulsating energy, seemed to shrink in comparison to the emotional landscape Lucy traversed. The guest box, a private enclave within the spectacle, became a cocoon where Lucy grappled with the beauty and complexity of the revelations being unveiled.

With each verse, Lucy's emotions danced like flickering candle flames, casting shadows on the canvas of her thoughts. The lyrics, seemingly innocuous to the uninitiated, bore the fingerprints of shared laughter, stolen kisses, and the silent conversations that unfolded behind closed doors. It was a love story written not in ink but in the ethereal ink of whispered promises and unspoken dreams.

As Y/N's voice soared, Lucy's heart swelled with a mixture of pride, vulnerability, and a profound understanding that their secret love had found its voice in the language of the song. The shared glances, the private moments, and the clandestine gestures all converged into a crescendo of emotions that reverberated within Lucy's being.

As the final notes hung in the air, the crowd erupted into applause, unaware that they had just borne witness to a love story veiled in secrecy. Y/N, bathed in the afterglow of her performance, acknowledged the cheers with a grateful smile, concealing the true meaning of her lyrics behind an artful facade.

The audience's applause, a distant hum in the background, signified not just appreciation for Y/N's musical prowess but also a collective acknowledgement of a love that had dared to exist beyond the realm of public validation. Lucy's eyes remained locked on Y/N as the singer descended from the stage, an invisible thread connecting them across the expanse of the arena.

With a gracious nod, she acknowledged the cheers, a practised art of concealing the true meaning of her lyrics behind the artful facade of a performer who had just delivered a stellar show.

Down on the stage, Y/N seized the moment, feeling the electric energy of the crowd coursing through her veins. With a grateful smile, she took a few steps forward, her presence commanding the attention of the thousands gathered in the arena. The cheers intensified, the collective energy of the audience converging into a palpable force that seemed to lift the entire venue.

Y/N's voice, a delicate balance of sincerity and showmanship, cut through the noise.

"London, you guys are amazing! I am at home, thank you for letting me in again and again, from time to time!" she exclaimed, the words punctuated by the cheers of the crowd. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate each and every one of you being here tonight. Let's keep this energy going!"

With those words, Y/N seamlessly transitioned into the next part of her set, the music carrying the audience along on a journey of emotions. The concert unfolded like a tapestry of sound and light, each song a brushstroke on the canvas of the night. Y/N, in her element, weaved through the setlist with effortless grace, her voice echoing through the arena and leaving an indelible mark on the hearts of those who listened.

In the guest box, Lucy watched with a sense of awe, her admiration for Y/N's talent mingling with the pride of knowing the person behind the performer. The cheers continued to cascade down from the stands, a chorus of appreciation that echoed through the night.

As the concert unfolded, Lucy found herself caught in the rhythm of the music, the lyrics of the songs taking on new meaning in the context of their secret love story. The arena, once a haven for the unveiling of hidden truths, now became a sanctuary where Y/N's artistry reigned supreme. Lucy reveled in the joy of being both spectator and confidante, her heart dancing to the beat of a melody that had become the soundtrack to their shared journey.

Meanwhile, in the midst of the swirling emotions, Y/N continued to command the stage. Her connection with the audience deepened with each note, and each lyric, creating a symbiotic exchange of energy that fueled the atmosphere of the concert. The cheers, the applause and the collective voice of the crowd became the backdrop to a performance that transcended the boundaries of the ordinary.

And so, as Y/N carried the audience through the symphony of her concert, Lucy and the entourage in the guest box became enchanted witnesses to a night that blended the magic of music with the mysteries of a love story that lingered in the spaces between the notes. The secrets concealed in the lyrics remained hidden, known only to the performers of the clandestine symphony, as the concert continued to unfold beneath the shimmering lights of the London O2 Arena.

Meanwhile, after the concert, the internet erupted into a frenzy of speculation and excitement. Fans dissected every lyric, analyzing GIFs and videos, attempting to decode the enigma that was Lucy and Y/N's love. Tweets flooded in, with hashtags trending and theories circulating faster than wildfire.

Unbeknownst to the fans, Y/N, armed with her phone, found herself amidst the storm of social media chatter backstage. She shared a knowing look with Lucy, both amused by the chaos they had incited. Y/N scrolled through the Twitter feed, her laughter bubbling up as she read out loud some of the more creative interpretations.

Some tweets read out like this:

"someone please tell me if i'm going crazy but did she just make her relationship exclusive now????"

"i think i am going mental...y/n and lucy bronze are actually real? if yes, I AM THERE FOR IT!!"

"jesus fucking christ what i am seeing...this is some weird af mastermind shit y/n is doing but idk if this is real or not"

"decoding the new song by y/n should be my full-time job"

Y/N grinned, her eyes flickering mischievously as she showed Lucy the screen. "Looks like our little secret has the internet in a tizzy, huh?"

Lucy chuckled, her arms around Y/N creating a cocoon of warmth and intimacy amidst the whirlwind of speculation. The love between them served as a silent reassurance, a sanctuary where the outside world's conjectures held little sway.

"Let them speculate," Lucy said, her voice a playful whisper that danced with a subtle hint of defiance. "Our love is our own and no amount of internet chatter can change that."

They lingered in the backstage shadows, the remnants of the concert echoing through the corridors. Y/N's phone, a portal to the outside world, continued to buzz with notifications, each one a testament to the internet's insatiable hunger for the details of their hidden romance. Lucy, ever the pillar of strength, held Y/N close, shielding her from the storm of virtual opinions.

As they navigated through the backstage chaos, Lucy's eyes caught glimpses of familiar faces — members of the entourage, friends, and fellow football players who had come to support her. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of excitement and curiosity, the air thick with the unspoken acknowledgment that something extraordinary had unfolded on that stage.

Y/N, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, continued to scroll through the social media whirlwind.

"Listen to this one," she chuckled, reading aloud a particularly creative tweet that attempted to dissect the hidden meanings in her lyrics.

Lucy joined in the laughter, her genuine amusement blending with the shared joy of witnessing the aftermath of the concert.

"They're getting more creative each time, fucking masterminds," she remarked, her voice laced with affection. "Who knew our little secret would become the internet's favourite puzzle?"

The backstage corridor led them to a quieter, more secluded area. Y/N, now free from the performative facade, let out a contented sigh. "I love the energy of the crowd," she confessed, her eyes meeting Lucy's. "But this, right here, with you, is my favorite part."

Lucy's response was a tender smile, a silent agreement that spoke of the solace found in the quiet moments after the storm. The world outside might be ablaze with speculation, but in that intimate space, the only certainty was the love they shared, a love that defied categorisation and reveled in the authenticity of its existence.

With the backstage chaos gradually fading into the background, Lucy and Y/N continued to revel in the afterglow of the concert. The laughter, the shared glances and the unspoken understanding between them formed a narrative richer and more profound than any social media speculation could capture.

As they walked hand in hand, the backstage shadows embraced them, offering a respite from the world's gaze. The love story that unfolded on that stage remained their own, a symphony of secrets played out in the hushed moments after the applause had faded, leaving only the echoes of an unforgettable night at the O2 Arena.

With the backstage chaos gradually subsiding, Y/N felt an urge for a more intimate setting, away from the prying eyes and the incessant hum of speculation. She turned to her team, a group of dedicated individuals who had been by her side throughout the tour.

"Hey, guys," she began, her tone carrying a blend of appreciation and a hint of mischief. "I think I need a moment. How about we reconvene later? I just want some time to unwind privately."

Her team, seasoned professionals attuned to the unspoken nuances of the entertainment world, nodded in understanding. With knowing smiles, they dispersed, giving Y/N and Lucy the space they desired.

As they entered the quiet confines of Y/N's room, the atmosphere shifted from the bustling energy of backstage to a more personal realm. Y/N's eyes, still aglow with the remnants of the concert, met Lucy's with an unspoken invitation. The door closed behind them, shutting out the world and leaving them with the serenity they craved.

In the embrace of the room's dim lighting, Y/N turned to Lucy, a playful glint in her eyes.

"You know," she mused, "there's one thing the internet can't speculate on."

Lucy arched an eyebrow, a curious smile playing on her lips. "And what's that?"

Y/N closed the distance between them, her fingers tracing a gentle path along Lucy's arm.

"This," she whispered before pressing her lips against Lucy's, the kiss a culmination of the emotions that had simmered beneath the surface throughout the night.

Their kiss was an unspoken language, a dialogue of passion and longing that needed no words. Lucy's arms enveloped Y/N, drawing her closer in a shared dance of intimacy. The room became a sanctuary, a haven where their love unfolded in the silence of stolen moments.

As they broke the kiss, Y/N's eyes bore into Lucy's with an intensity that transcended the music-filled arena they had just left. "I needed this," Y/N confessed, her voice a soft murmur that hung in the air.

Lucy, with a tender smile, traced a delicate pattern on Y/N's cheek. "Me too."

The room became a cocoon of quietude, a space where time seemed to stretch and contract with the rhythm of their heartbeat. It was a moment unburdened by the expectations of the world outside, a moment where Lucy and Y/N, in the aftermath of the concert's crescendo, found solace in each other's arms.

The intimacy they shared echoed the clandestine nature of their love story — an intricate dance between two souls navigating fame and affection in the shadows. In the gentle ebb and flow of their connection, Y/N and Lucy reveled in the respite they had created for themselves, a haven where their love could flourish, unburdened by the scrutiny of the world.

As they lingered in the quietude of the room, the whispers of the outside world began to fade. Lucy and Y/N, entwined in a private dance, embraced the serenity they had sought, finding in each other the sanctuary that transcended the boundaries of fame and secrecy.