nylauninterrupted

[nylauninterrupted]

CL16 x Reader [the Golden Boy]

before reading: This one is a bit long, since I wanted to do a lot of teasing and slight tension. The intention behind this one is to make it feel sort of like a trashy romcom but in a good way, if you know what I mean? I hope I managed to do that, let me know your thoughts. As always, requests are open and ready for y'all. Happy reading!

summary: You were an anonymous journalist, trying to bring down one of Monaco's biggest illegal organisations. But once its head figured out that you were the one behind the mocking articles, he felt something other than hate.

content warnings: morality is out of question here, a lot of money talk, weird comparisons I guess?, eating out, sex, dom!Charles, no protection implied (wrap it before you tap it obvi), nonproofread

word count: 3943

"The golden boy of the House of Leclerc amazes the public once more with his ignorance and disregard towards the middle class," you observed in satisfaction as the paper's redactor read the article's title out loud.

You took pride in your work, as it was completely unrelated to making money. If anything, you put money into it, reassuring the small local paper's office that you would be more than happy to provide for them if things went sideways due to your articles.

Although you were certainly a part of the upper class, you made no move to get even richer, instead choosing to use your resources in the scheme you had planned out in the last year.

The plan was to bring down the House of Leclerc, possibly the most prosperous criminal organisation in Monaco, covered up as a fashion brand. You knew all about them from your old man, an eccentric millionaire who had information on pretty much anyone in Monaco and beyond.

You felt completely safe in this line of work; you wrote provocative articles that left the public fuming, slowly bringing down the golden boy—Charles Leclerc. Your articles were published anonymously and were the reason for the recent growth of the small paper.

The money they made off selling it went to them alone, as you did not need it. It helped with the anonymity, as you couldn't be traced by the money transfers.

And during your father's parties and dinners, you could watch the golden boy's face as his advisor walked up to him and reported that another article about his sketchy business had just come up.It was a thing you enjoyed immensely, seeing his polite, slightly amused expression shift into a subtle frown. 

It's a good thing you avoided ever speaking with him directly and kept your distance; he might have noticed your little smirk otherwise.

"At this point I am surprised he did not pull some strings to get our office to shut down," the editor sighed, setting the manuscript on the table. "It's a good thing you have the money to fight it."

Yes, you fought money with money in a sense. Writing these articles certainly would have been more noble if you were a part of the middle class, but you knew very well how that would go; you would have been silenced before people even started reading your work properly.

"Even if he were to do it, it would not escape the public's attention." You smiled, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingertips. "And if he were to stop me from writing the articles, he wouldn't just force the office to shut down. He'd focus on finding me alone."

"Well, I admire your courage." The editor sighed. "Though sometimes it is getting dangerously close to bordering on stupidity."

You rolled your eyes and smiled again before getting up and dusting your jeans off.

"The transfer came through in the morning, from a dummy account, like always. I will see you next week, yeah?"

And with that you left for your apartment to get ready for another one of your old man's dinners. It did not take too long; there have been heat waves in Monaco recently, making your clothing options quite limited. You settled for a sparkly golden dress, paired with gorgeous makeup. 

You winked at yourself in the mirror before checking the time and heading out.It did not take you too long to get to the gathering, where most were already present. You were immediately pulled into hugs and showered with kisses on the cheek from the females present, who were very happy to see you.They all loved you; you were the apple in their eye. If only they knew who was behind the biting articles about them...

Your eyes wandered around the room, searching for your main target—Charles. You were surprised not to see him; the man was almost never late.With a shrug of your shoulders, you entered your father's villa, walking up the staircase and reaching your old bedroom to adjust your makeup a bit.

It was as beautiful and comfortable as you remembered, with little lights hanging down from the ceiling and the art you painted on your walls when you were a teenager. While searching for your highlighter in your bag, you sat down on the chair in front of your old vanity table, not noticing the quiet sound of a person entering the room.

You gazed in the mirror, applying some of the highlighter as an eyetopper, when a voice sounded from somewhere behind you.

"Hello, little writer." Charles spoke in a calm tone, taking a step closer to the light. "I liked your newest article."

You stopped in your tracks for a second, your hand freezing mid-air. You quickly gathered yourself and calmly continued applying your makeup.

"I am no writer," you responded, dabbing the glowy product into your face. "Unfortunately, I never possessed the ability to write proper pieces. You can ask my father, Mr..." 

You paused, pretending to be clueless and not know his name, as you looked at him questioningly.

"Charles," he answered softly, looking at you with amusement, "If your father thinks you have no ability to write, then he is quite ignorant, miss (l/n)."

"Well then, I will entertain your theory, Charles." You spoke, turning around and getting up from the chair to face him. Charles checked you out conspicuously, not even trying to hide the way his eyes traced your every curve.

"How did you come up with the idea that I write articles?" you asked, controlling your body language to perfection. In order to appear less confident and intelligent than in reality, you put your hands behind your back instead of folding your arms on your chest.

He seemed to see right through your trick, seeing you for the way you were: smart and cunning.

"Well, there is someone who writes rather... bold articles in some small local newspaper, bringing a lot of attention to themselves," he spoke huskily, taking a step closer to you, "and I decided to investigate, tracing money transfers from a dummy account, observing the newspaper's office..."

Charles leaned towards you, bending down to whisper into your ear, as his warm breath brushed over your neck faintly.

"You should have picked a busier time to visit the office, little miss... Maybe it would have been easier to miss your pretty face on the camera footage."

You shivered slightly and pulled away to the side, giving him a cold look with your eyes narrowed.

"The next time you try to come into a room I'm in alone, without permission, I will be waiting. With a gun." You spoke coldly.

"Don't tempt me." Charles grinned, his eyes glued to yours. "There is one thing I am curious about."

"Why would a rich girl like you care about what I do, enough to risk her reputation and money, writing articles that mock me? You won't benefit financially... You don't have a business that could expand because of it... Oh, wait." He paused, leaning close to your ear again."Is it to get my attention?" He whispered, smirking at you.

"Did you think that way you would be different from all the other women who throw themselves at me?"

"It might be a shock to you, Leclerc, but not every woman out there dreams of seducing you." You rolled your eyes, folding your arms. While he was still a complete jerk, you appreciated that he did not try to put his hands on you during your first encounter, like entitled men who attended your father's gatherings would often do.

Before Charles had the chance to respond, you turned away and left the room. You did not really care what he would do once you left him on his own in your childhood bedroom. He would not dare to do anything in your father's house.

You quickly got back to the gathering and were immediately welcomed back by the group of women from before. You tried to forget about your encounter with the golden boy and the way his hot breath made your whole body shiver, even though he did not lay a single finger on you.

A girl that has been eyeing you all night had offered you a dance, which you gratefully accepted. You twirled around and had fun, the shiny pieces of your dress making you look ethereal in the warm light, as you continued to be watched by Charles, who got back to the party as well.

Just as you finished dancing with the girl and thanked her, a bit out of breath, another one came up to you giggling, telling you that Charles was talking to your father, asking whether he could dance with you.

Your eyes narrowed, and you looked in your old man's way to see him chatting with Leclerc while gesturing in a lively way. As Charles noticed you gazing at them, he gave you a small smirk and a wave before excusing himself and walking towards you.

"I am not dancing with you," you spoke bluntly, looking at him with disdain. Your words just made him smile and roll his eyes in response.

"Oh, but we wouldn't want to disappoint your papa, would we?" Charles spoke teasingly, "It would be very rude to deny a dance with me, don't you think?"

You bit your lip, knowing he was right. To make matters worse, a cheery Italian love song started playing. Your old man liked romcoms and love songs a bit too much for your liking; you had to talk to him about his Mamma Mia obsession at some point.

Charles raised his eyebrow and held out his hand towards you, just as the chorus of Sarà perché ti amo started playing. You gave him a subtle glare once more before placing your fingers on his warm hand. He smiled and pulled you closer to the centre of the room, leading the dance and twirling you around.

"You look gorgeous tonight, little miss," he whispered teasingly, as the crowd watched you dance. "Are you this beautiful even when mocking me in your writing, or did you simply dress up tonight?"

"Considering how you were busy watching me through the street cameras, I think you are well aware of how I look while working," you bit back through gritted teeth as you smiled at him charmingly to keep up appearances. He gave you an equally tender smile, faking it almost effortlessly, before spinning you around again.

"Oh, street cameras aren't the only thing I can use to watch you. I have eyes too, ma déesse," he whispered into your ear, just as the track ended, and he had to let you go. As you walked away from him, you glanced at your father and groaned at his beaming smile. You silently prayed that he wouldn't try to plan anything as a follow-up to your dance with one of his business partners.

Your prayers were not answered. The next evening you got a text from your father, happily informing you that Charles was absolutely enthralled by you and has asked for your number. (You would not be surprised if your father just came up to him after you two danced and forced him to write down your number in his phone.)

You were still seething as you made dinner in the quiet of your apartment when the doorbell rang. You did not expect any guests, so you raised your eyebrows in surprise and washed your hands before opening the door to see Charles standing behind them. A thought of simply shutting the door in his face ran through your head, but you doubted he would actually let you have your peace.

"Why are you here?" You asked, folding your arms while you looked at him questioningly. 

"Maybe I wanted to see your pretty face again?" he suggested, a grin appearing on his face. You made a mental note to add "womaniser" to the long list of epithets you used in your articles.

"Bullshit," you said calmly, completely unfazed.

"I want answers, little miss." Charles finally replied, looking at you closely, "I want to know why the little rich girl who attends her daddy's parties every other week decided to mock me and make me her enemy when she would benefit so much more if I were her ally."

"It's fun," you replied. "I like it. Watching all the other rich people in town squirm once word about their little illegal businesses spreads. I liked seeing your expression, the perplexity in your eyes."

He kept observing you for a couple more seconds before he smirked again and started taking slow steps towards you. You instinctively started to retreat to your apartment, but it didn't make him stop. As he entered it, he closed the door behind him, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Are you going to grab a gun now?" Charles teased, referring to the threat you made the evening before. You stopped and overcame your unease. He was on your turf. And you weren't going to take his shit.

"My turn to ask the questions. Why didn't you try to shut me up earlier?"

"It's pretty simple." He responded, tilting his head slightly. "When you first started writing, I wanted nothing more than to find you and rip your head off. But with each little piece of yours, your gender became clear. It baffled me, since I have not crossed any women recently. It interested me, irked me."

Charles took another step towards you, slowly extending his hand, giving you time to retreat. But you did not, surprisingly letting him place his hand on your chin.

"I found out who you were a while ago. But I decided to watch and tried to see what your motive was. At first, I thought it was your father's idea, but I quickly came to the conclusion that he is a harmless old man. No, you came up with it all by yourself."

You remained silent, listening to his words, as his warm fingers traced your jawline and brushed against your neck, stroking your soft skin softly.

"I was completely sure you were a man pretending to be a woman before I discovered your identity." Charles chuckled. 

"I did not understand why else you would watch me so closely, describing my every... evil move."His hand went slightly up once more, and he brushed the tip of his thumb against your peach-tinted lips.

"Otherwise... Why would someone want to bring me down? Without any gain from it..." his voice trailed off. "You are fascinating, little miss."

You let out a small, barely audible sigh at his faint touches, making his eyes glint with interest once more.

"Are you sure you still don't want a bit of my attention?" He murmured, bending down slightly, his head inching closer to your face as he spoke.

Of course you knew what kind of man he was. Filthy rich, attractive, and thought the world belonged to him. But could anyone fault you for finding him just a bit appealing?You tilted your head up to look at him properly. Thoughts were running in circles in your mind as you bit your lip, feeling conflicted. Charles could see your struggle, and he waited patiently for your response, not making any move to touch you more. He wanted your consent, for you to give in willingly.

"Maybe just a bit," you whispered, knowing damn well that there was no way that this would be a one-time thing. He smiled at your response, reaching his hand out again, brushing strands of your hair behind your ear, and leaning in to place a small peck on the side of your neck to test the waters. Seeing that you did not resist his affections, he moved closer, his body meeting yours. Charles took you in with his eyes, massaging your body through your clothes, taking his time with you.

"You really do look incredible regardless of the situation," he muttered, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent. "You are so interesting, little miss..."

His hands slipped under your shirt and kept massaging your body slowly, warming it up. You didn't really speak, still unsure how to respond to the situation. The man whose life you tried to ruin was in your apartment, being intimate with you, and you were... Well, you were a willing participant.

Charles roamed your body with his fingers, keeping it pretty civil for now, and you tilted your head up again, brushing your nose against his slightly, making him smile at you.

"I have to say, you were more fierce yesterday. This is not an unpleasant change," he whispered tenderly. "I suppose you can be quite nice if you want to."

You grabbed his wrists and slowly guided his hands to your breasts, placing them around the round tissue.

"Oh, generous even," he added, but he did not tease you further and kept massaging instead.

"Should I get this off?" Charles asked after a while, referring to the large shirt you were wearing. You nodded without hesitating much, making him take the shirt off your body with ease. His hands were immediately back on your skin, this time enveloping your hips with their warmth.You reached for his shirt, taking it off as well. He gently guided you to the couch, carefully pushing you on the soft cushions.

"You're a bit like a wild cat, ma déesse," he whispered with a hint of satisfaction. "It is very difficult to tame you, and even if one succeeds, you still remain wonderfully independent and fierce."

You rolled your eyes a bit at the compliment but did not stop him from undressing you further, giggling a bit as he struggled with taking his trousers off. Charles gave you a warning look, though he couldn't help but smirk as well.

"Watch out, little miss, or I might lose my temper," he whispered.

"Do you ever?" you asked, looking up at him, as he crawled on top of you. "Were those frowns every time you heard about a new article all feigned?"

"Oh, I was not frowning about the articles." Charles chuckled, pressing soft kisses on your neck. "I just think some of the... labels you gave me were a bit harsh. I don't think I'm a 'filthy lecher who feasts on the weak,' to be quite honest."

"Fine, maybe I am a bit... passionate at times." You admitted with a sigh, as he continued leaving gentle pecks on her body, trailing them down towards her chest, "...You're still a jerk."

"Sure I am." He beamed, his shiny eyes glancing up into yours, before he focused on cherishing you again. He was careful, almost as if he worried about damaging you. You took him for someone who liked it rough, yet right now it seemed like he was prioritising your pleasure over his.

You sighed again as his mouth started inching closer to your abdomen before passing in and hovering above her temple.

"Are you ready, little miss?" he asked, and without really waiting for a response, he leaned down, pressing his mouth directly to your clit. He wasn't hesitant; he dove right in, beginning to suck on your labia, eliciting soft moans from your mouth.

Charles took his time, licking and sucking on the outside, before slowly pushing his mouth further, penetrating your cunt with his tongue. The man had skill; he turned into a panting, whimpering mess in a matter of minutes.

Before he brought you to a climax, he pulled away carefully, glancing at you with a grin.

"It's okay, you can come over my face later," he whispered, massaging your hip, as you glanced down at him, your face flushed. 

"Do you want to feel me inside, ma déesse?" 

You nodded, almost squirming from the tension he built up in your body. He kept watching your expression as he positioned his hard shaft at your entrance, teasing it a little bit, before slowly but surely pushing it in.

You slowly got used to the sensation, letting out small moans and whimpers at the sensation. You closed your eyes, savouring the experience, before pulling him into your arms, making his dick go deeper and causing him to groan in pleasure.

He was so careful with you, as if afraid to break you, to damage you. You would never take him for someone gentle; you assumed he liked it rough. But right now, he seemed to be containing himself for you.

"You don't have to be gentle with me. I'm not made out of glass." you whispered, after letting out another moan. "I want to feel you everywhere."

At your words, his restraint seemed to weaken; his gentle strokes grew into desperate thrusts, the pace quickening significantly. You were now moaning at every move, your body responding to his affections perfectly.

You could not help but admire the way he looked, his brown hair illuminated by the warm light seeping from a lamp placed on the coffee table, his green eyes that usually resembled spring leaves, now looking more like a shadowy forest. Small beads formed on his forehead as he kept a quick pace, sliding his cock in and out of you.

Soon, he reached his high, painting your inner walls white, before sliding out of you, his dick now limp. He tried not to collapse on you, but you simply pulled him in, making him lie on top of your body. You both breathed heavily, spent after the intense sex.

Your mind was analysing the situation now. In the past hours, your opinion on Charles changed significantly. He was still a dick and a bad man, but you couldn't deny the want you felt for him. It might have transcended sexual desire alone.

Charles clearly felt something for you as well; he knew better than to hope that sleeping with you would make you stop writing about him. He was tender, affectionate... It was unclear what he wanted for you. But after a couple more moments of thinking, you decided to let it go for now, choosing to enjoy the presence of the man you seemed to hate just yesterday.

Suddenly, you giggled, making him look up at you questioningly.

"Did you really memorise every insult I have written about you?" you asked, looking at him tenderly. He smiled as well, nuzzling his face into your chest. It wasn't in a sexual way; it seemed that he was simply yearning to be close to you, to stay in this moment, in this apartment, for as long as possible.

"Maybe not every single one, but I remember most of them." Charles murmured, with his face buried in your chest. 

You smiled again, deciding that talking about what this evening meant for you two could happen some other time. For now, you wanted to keep him in your arms for as long as possible.

...And maybe a few kisses, you thought, as you gently grabbed his chin and leaned in, kissing him on the lips. He reciprocated immediately, taking the lead and pouring his affection for you into the gesture, leaving you breathless.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" You asked, making his eyes light up like a little child's.

"I would love to." Charles smiled genuinely. Yes, he was a bad man. But his presence was something you grew fond of. In a matter of a day, you found yourself infatuated with the golden boy that you mocked.

"Maybe I should have suggested breakfast as well," you spoke, pulling him in for another kiss.

[nylauninterrupted]

Welcome to my page!

» Hey, I'm Nyla. I write oneshots for formula one and sometimes base them off requests. My pronouns are she/her and you can call me Nyla, La, baby, love, whatever you feel like calling me.

» I am just getting started with formating my page and posts, so they can be a bit messy. I hope you still enjoy the vibe though!

» My works are either dark or sweet, depends on my mood really.

» I'll try to manage stuff like creating a masterlist soon, but for now this page will be a bit chaotic.

» The work I post belongs to me and I do not wish for people to post it and claim it as their own. Reposts that contain due credit are well appreciated though!

» My requests used to be a buffet, where you could pick your prompts. This is changing, since I want you to be able to have more free reign in your asks. Ask for anything, whether it is asking for very specific scenarios, or more basic ones.

» I have never done anything seasonal, like kinktober or festive specials, but I am planning to change that and prepare lots of pieces for you in the future, to keep you warm during the colder months, lol.

future masterlists:

[nylauninterrupted]

CL16 x Reader [The Vampire who Enjoyed Brownies]

before reading: I'm getting back into writing, so this might lack depth, please be patient with me<3 As for requests, you can still send them in, I'm just slow at working through them! Love, Nyla

summary: A handsome man moved in next door. After he introduced himself you two clicked, to the point where you'd often hang out after work. One evening you brought him brownies and came across a teacup with bloody residue in his sink...

content warnings: vampire!Charles, biting, descriptions of anatomy, mentions of blood, blowjob, smut smut smut, unprotected sex, dom!Charles, non proofread

word count: 3672

We've all heard of vampires. Vile, stealthy creatures, lurking in the shadows, craving, yearning for the blood of innocent humans. Their claws are sharp and twisted, making them perfect to ravage the human body. Their teeth are rotten and yellow, their fangs make them unable to close their mouth fully.

They (very conveniently) only come out at night, providing the best solution to children's curiosity, causing them to be scared to come out from under the covers, until dawn. At least in my day it worked, making the girls from the countryside frightened of even taking a step out the door after midnight.

Well, actual vampires are slightly different, from the tales we have been told before bed for centuries. They certainly do come out during the day. Their nails aren't exactly claw-like, most of them actually take care of them very well. Their teeth is like any other, the fangs appearing only when they feel the need to feed.

Vampires are more subtle than stories say, ravaging people's bodies by sinking their hands in their guts is a bit too messy for them. Not every vampire's goal is to kill the victim. Some are actually quite tame, choosing to find a lover that will understand their nature and feeding on them occasionally.

Animal blood is the trend right now, as morality and awareness of human emotion increased over the years.

It's a common misconception that vampires feed on blood only. In reality, they need different kinds of nutrition just like we do, just accompanied by a bit of hemoglobin. My boyfriend for example is a fan of brownies.

When a guy moved into the apartment next to yours, the one that had been empty for at least a couple of months, you didn't think much about it. Why would you, really?

You just got off work when he knocked on your door and introduced himself. His stance was a bit awkward and looked uncomfortable. It took a few minutes of chatting before his shoulders relaxed.

His name was Charles, and he was a bit older. He looked about twenty-seven, dressed in an elegant way, almost old-fashioned; you've only seen him wearing a hoodie once. Otherwise, his casual was most men's elegant. Which you appreciated, really; the turtlenecks, coats, and occasional necklaces complemented his beauty well.

You exchanged numbers, and all was well. The texts you sent to him were always sweet and polite. His responses were always punctuated, yet still quite charming.

Everything worked out fine between the two of you; you were a bit surprised to have a neighbour who took time to get to know you and wanted to spend time with you. You didn't mind really, especially considering your way to destress—whenever you felt on edge, you'd whip up some baked goods or some kind of dish.

It became your routine to send a quick text to Charles, proposing to have a bite. Although now, thinking about it, your choice of words was quite ironic.

So there you were, on a quiet and rainy Tuesday evening, knocking on your now favourite neighbour's door.

"I'll be right there!" His soft voice sounded from behind the door. You smiled to yourself, biting the inside of your lip a little. You found him very charming and felt comfortable around him, to the point where you looked forward to spending some time with him after work.

He opened the door, standing in front of you in some simple jeans paired with a white shirt and a long-sleeve beige polo over it. It looked simple, yet he wore it so well.

"Hi," he spoke, his smile audible in his voice. He enjoyed the evenings spent with you as well. More than you knew.

"Hi," you replied in the same manner, a smile forming on your face. "I made brownies."

His face lit up visibly as he looked at the plate of freshly baked brownies that you were holding. He smiled and looked back at your face, admiring it for a second or two.

"Would you like to come in?" he asked, taking the opportunity to spend more time with you and get to know you better. He grew quite fond of you over these past few weeks.

"I'd really like that." You smiled and walked in. He closed the door behind her while you went to the kitchen and set the brownies down on the counter.

He clearly didn't expect a visit tonight; his apartment was a bit more messy than usual. You didn't mind, though; you smiled a bit at some unfinished work sitting on the table next to his laptop.

Just as Charles walked into the kitchen, you turned towards the sink. Seeing your movement, his eyes widened. He sped up, trying to take your attention away from it.

"No, wait..." he started, his voice filled with sudden desperation, just as you looked down into it. You saw a pretty teacup with some dark residue at the very bottom of it.

"Don't worry, your kitchen is not that messy," you replied reassuringly, thinking that he is just worried that you might judge him for the mess.

Just as he worried, you leaned a bit towards the sink, intending to wash the cup and help him out a little, when a metallic scent hit you. It was weirdly familiar, and something in your mind clicked as your fingertips locked on the teacup's rim.

You looked back at Charles and saw something close to fright in his expression. There was sheer anxiety present in his green eyes, making them seem darker than usual. He didn't try to stop you anymore; it was too late; you both knew that.

You brought the teacup closer to your nose, taking a whiff, to make sure that was the source of the smell. It was easy to identify the remnants of the liquid in it as blood. You couldn't mistake it for anything else.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm down. He half expected you to run by the time he opened them again. He didn't dare to hope for anything besides fear from you. But once he did open them, he found you still there, standing in his kitchen, with a teacup in your hand.

"It's animal blood," he spoke quietly, with a soft pleading to it. "I promise you. I can explain."

You turned around and started washing the teacup for him, without saying anything just yet. You didn't know what to say after all. It was hard to believe that your neighbour would drink blood. He wasn't a psycho, you knew that, which is why there was only one possible explanation for it.

"I'm... I need blood to survive." Charles admitted, watching you as you moved in his kitchen, "I am a vampire. I'm sorry."

You paused and turned back to look at him. You still didn't understand the situation; maybe you just couldn't comprehend it. But despite a reasonable weariness you felt, you also trusted your own instinct. And your instinct was that Charles isn't a bad person.

"Why are you sorry?" You asked, "It's not like it's your fault, no? I mean, I didn't find you sucking someone dry or anything; it's... It's just a teacup. With animal blood."

Charles looked at you with surprise, disbelief almost. He never would have expected this level of understanding from anyone. Anyone. Even though he considered you a friend and a good neighbour, he couldn't even imagine that you would be okay with what he was.

"You're... I didn't expect you to be... Okay with it. Not just like that." He spoke, looking at you with a newfound kind of fondness. Sure, you were cute before and your personality was great, but this... This sort of behaviour just made him like you more.

"So... do you only like blood and accept the brownies out of politeness, or are they actually enjoyable?" you asked, in an attempt to put him at ease

He read your intentions correctly and smirked a little, letting out a breathy, amused laugh, with slight relief in it as well.

"They are absolutely spectacular. I promise." Charles smiled, tilting his head at you, taking in the view. He couldn't get enough of you. Your smiles, words, all of it. To him, you were as beautiful and as important as the sun was to the moon.

"I expected you to run," he admitted, his eyes softening a bit as he kept looking in your eyes, while his shoulders began to relax slowly, the anxiety finally leaving his body.

"I like spending time with you too much to pass up on it just because of vampirism." You made a joke without much thinking, not realising how... intimate your words might have sounded.

"Oh, really?" Charles asked, a smirk appearing on his face once more. "You like me that much?" 

You hesitated, looking away for a moment. You just found out that Charles, your handsome, sweet neighbour who you grew so fond of, also happened to be a vampire. And strangely enough, you didn't mind it.

'To hell with' it'—you thought.

"More than you know," you answered, your voice growing more serious and genuine, as you gazed back into his eyes again. Charles's expression changed in a similar way as yours; he understood what you were getting at.

"Do you have something to tell me?" He asked in a low, soft voice, taking a couple of slow, careful steps towards you, as if testing the waters for now.

"I don't know," you replied, taking a small step towards him as well. "How would you react if I did?"

Charles's eyes never left yours, not even for a second. It was as if you were the only thing that ever existed. Everything else just didn't matter in that moment.

"I'd be thrilled," he responded shamelessly, getting closer, their bodies very close to one another. He was now looking down at you, the height difference being more obvious, as you were in close proximity.

"Would you like to have a proper date with me?" you asked, deciding not to beat around the bush. You wanted him. You wanted him badly. "With the possibility of a relationship in mind."

Charles's face lit up as well as he took one last step closer to you, completely erasing the gap between you. He placed his hands on your arms, looking deep into your eyes.

"I would love that," he answered, smiling at you, "And can I kiss you?"

"Just kiss me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, as you used a hair clip to put your hair up. You gave him a knowing smile, making him a bit surprised. He didn't expect you to be that confident.

"While I would love to have you, I don't have any condoms at hand. I didn't exactly prepare for this." He murmured, walking closer and nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck.

"I was asking in case you would like to bite me," you laughed quietly, "but I guess sleeping together wouldn't be so bad either. I'm on the pill."

Charles opened his eyes and leaned away to take a closer look at you. His olive skin flushed just slightly; he looked embarrassed.

"Ah. Sorry, I didn't mean to..." He started speaking, not wanting to make you feel like all he wanted with you was sex.

"I know, Charlie," you interrupted him firmly. "I'm not worried about that. Besides... I wouldn't tell you about the pill if I didn't want to entertain your idea."

"Aren't you uncomfortable though? Having sex with a vampire, who could very well only want your body and blood..." Charles spoke, knowing how most people would perceive this situation.

"I know that is not the case. Besides... Even if it was, who says you'd be the only one getting something out of it?" You whispered, smiling faintly as you reached out to touch his arm. You began rubbing small circles on it, your eyes focused on him entirely.

"You're..." he began, eyeing your fingers for a second. "More confident than I imagined. I can't say it isn't a turn-on."

Your eyes were like little firecrackers, shining in the dimly lit kitchen. Your lips had a shade of raspberries from a lip tint you applied right before knocking on his door. You were simply breathtaking.

"Uh-huh." You smirked, getting even closer, almost touching his chest. "What else about me turns you on, then?"

Despite your bold words, your voice remained ever so gentle and soft, melodic almost. It was soothing and comfortable, a stark contrast to what was slowly turning into dirty talk.

"Your eyes are nice." Charles whispered, making the move to finally make your bodies touch. "So pretty... And so deep... I could get lost in them."

His touch grew confident as his fingers slipped under your shirt, and his large warm hands began massaging the slightly cold skin on your back, making you shiver.

"Don't get me started on your face," he continued in a low, husky voice. "Such a pretty little thing... So young, yet it feels like your beauty is eternal... I wonder what it would look like, twisted in pleasure..."

"You could always find out," you replied cheekily, playing with his small silver necklace. "I don't mind." 

Charles eyed your fingers wrapped around the chain around his neck and gently grabbed your wrist before putting it close to his lips. Conveniently, your blouse had bell sleeves, so he had immediate access to your skin. He kept looking at you as he began planting small kisses, from your palm to your arm, getting closer and closer to you. 

As his lips inched closer and closer to your neck, his hands found their way on your back again, only this time Charles swiftly untied your corset blouse before carefully sliding it off you, leaving your torso in only a bra.

"You smell delicious," he murmured, burying his head in your neck again. "So delicious... Is that vanilla I smell?"

"Yeah," she replied, and before she could say anything else, she let out a moan as Charles started leaving small bites on her, being careful not to go too far over her cleavage.

He wasn't about to make you walk around with a bloody neck, not to mention the damage he could potentially cause if he got too excited.

"Why... Why don't you bite me properly?" She whispered breathily, making him look up from her neckline.

"I have never bitten a human before," Charles answered calmly. "It can have some... side effects, you see."

"What... kind of side effects?"

"The kind that will make you beg me to fuck you. If I get too excited, my body will release an aphrodisiac," he replied, looking at you with slightly darkened eyes.

"Well... We did kind of seal the deal already, no? I'm curious how it'd feel, and I am sure you are as well."

"It's... We don't know each other well; I do not want to force you to have sex with me." Charles exhaled.

"Charlie, you have my consent before anything happens. You didn't bite me yet, and I am fully aware of the consequences of it. Don't you want to, just a little bit?"

Charles felt his restraints crumbling. He tried to resist, knowing how powerful the aphrodisiac was. But having your eager consent, thinking about the way it'd feel to sink his fangs into you... It was just too much for him.

He felt your blood calling, whispering to him. Your veins seemed to be pulsing. You didn't only smell delicious; you looked like it. Charles closed his eyes, feeling the faint scent of vanilla again.

Without saying anything else, he got closer to you, gently grabbing your shoulders to keep you in place. You did not move, standing there in anticipation as he examined your neck, pinpointing where your jugular veins were.

If he would bite any of your arteries, his healing saliva would not be able to stop the bleeding, killing you instantly. But he was attached to you and didn't want to cause you any harm, so he focused on finding the veins instead.

Charles took his time, examining your neck, before leaning in more and placing his mouth directly on it. Without holding back anymore, he sinks his teeth into your skin, causing a sharp but pleasant pain to shoot through your body, making you whimper in pleasure.

He took small sips of your blood, careful not to overwhelm you with the amount he is taking. After all, he was feeding on animal blood, and he did not require much more. As the warm liquid filled his mouth, he couldn't help but let out a satisfied hum, gripping your shoulders a bit harder.

With every sip, his fangs releasedthe aphrodisiac directly to your veins. You felt your body gradually get hotter, making you want to take off the rest of your clothes.

Charles thoroughly cleaned your neck from excess blood, healing it partially in the process, with his saliva. He looked at you and immediately noticed the change in your eyes.

"Take off my bra, Charlie," you whispered, looking at him with your slightly widened shiny eyes. "Don't be shy."

"Trust me, darling, I am not being shy," he murmured, unclasping your bra with more ease than you would yourself. "Do you want to do it in the kitchen, or would you prefer my bedroom?"

"We will probably be more comfortable on a bed," you giggled, playing with his shirt. Before you said anything else, Charles gave you a nudge, guiding you to his bedroom. He pushed you on the bed, sliding his polo off his body, followed by the white shirt.

You stared shamelessly at his stomach and bare shoulders, admiring them. He let out a light-hearted scoff and looked at you with a smirk. He unbuttoned your jeans and was about to get his trousers off as well when you grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

"Let me," you whispered, unbuttoning his trousers and sliding them off while biting your lip a little at the sight of the prominent bulge in his pants.

You finally took off your unclasped bra completely, letting your breasts out of the squishing undergarment. You did not take your eyes off him while taking his pants off as well, exposing his member entirely.

He watched you as you took it in your hands and examined it. You looked up into his eyes as you began massaging it, making him hiss slightly. You smiled and took it in your mouth, sucking on its tip, making Charles throw his head back in pleasure and grip your hair.

He could not help but push into your mouth, wanting to envelop his cock whole with your warmth. And you let him, relaxing your throat. Before he could come, he pulled out, panting slightly.

"Not yet." Charles whispered, stroking your face, "Should I make you scream, sugar?"

Before you could respond, he pushed you back on the bed and crawled on top of you, looking down at you as if you were his prey. His large hands massaged your sides as he gazed at you tenderly.

"Please, Charlie," you answered quietly, "I need you right now."

"You sound beautiful like that." Charles grinned, "Asking me so nicely..."

His hands reached down and grabbed your panties, snatching them off you, though he was careful enough not to rip them.

He began rubbing the outside of your pussy, building up the tension in your whole body. You started to whine, which was a sign for him to put his finger in.

Finally, he dipped it inside, massaging your clit, before adding another one. He brought you to a climax in a couple of moments with his skilled fingers.

You panted, looking up at him, as he loomed over your shaking body. Charles smirked again and leaned in, kissing your lips, nibbling on your lip a bit.

"Do you enjoy this?" he whispered. "The thought of a blood-drinking monster, ravaging you, taking whatever he wants?"

You whined breathily, squirming underneath him, desperate for more of the bliss he could provide her.

"Use your words, Sugar," he whispered. "What is it that you crave?"

"You," you whined, trying to catch your breath. "Only you. I need you to make me feel good."

Charles kept looking you in the eye, his orbs practically gleaming with satisfaction.

"I'll make you feel good." he spoke "I can't bear seeing you beg for too long. You're just such a sweet little thing..."

His voice trailed off as he positioned himself directly at your entrance. You shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the sensation you were about to experience. You did not doubt his ability to make you feel good. In fact, a part of you was wondering if you could even take it.

You found your answer when he began thrusting into you, before he picked up on the speed, practically pounding into your clit.

Your whimpers got louder; he let out a couple of breathy moans as well. You couldn't help but enjoy the way his low, melodic voice could twist into such pretty sounds.

As the last moan escaped his mouth and you both finished, Charles pulled out of you, looking down at you tiredly. Before he could say anything, you pulled him down on top of you, burying your head in his neck.

You both remained silent for a while, simply enjoying each other's presence.

"Did you try the brownies?" you whispered, making him grin.

"That's a funny question to ask, right after we've had sex." Charles responded, looking down at you with his little grin, "I did; they were delicious. Maybe we could have some for breakfast tomorrow?"

"You want me to stay?" you asked, almost surprised.

"Darling, if I could, I would never let you go," he responded, pulling you into a warm hug, as he buried his face in your hair and breathed in your scent once more.

[nylauninterrupted]

OP81 x Reader [Let's Get Out of Here]

before reading: this is a repost, since I am desperately trying to learn how to manage posts and format them, thanks for your patience! (I am currently open to requests and slowly working through them<3)

summary: You thought Oscar was your enemy, yet things seem to change after a party, when you're not feeling so well.

content warnings: smut, dom!Oscar, kinda rough at times

word count: 2357

You've known Oscar for a couple of months now. You first met the driver at a casual party of a mutual friend. And for some reason, unlike everyone, you seemed unable to hold a civil conversation with him.

Maybe it was the way he looked completely uninterested when you came up to him to ask a simple question. Or how he was always calm, no matter the situation, no matter how you felt. You truly didn't know.

But the fact is, every chat, every even slightly pointed glance, the smallest interaction would ignite flames and fighting. And you didn't understand it. You didn't understand yourself and your feelings.

There you are, sipping a cola on ice, in a slight haze, as your eyes take in the stuffy room of a friend's apartment. The movement of the people dancing around seems slowed and a bit blurry.

You're not drunk at all, but rather detached. You've had a bloody awful day after you had an argument with a family member. You wish to forget, to take your mind off things, to think about only the pleasant things.

It's honestly a perfect situation to get drunk and forget, yet you hold yourself back, knowing that this isn't the thing you should be doing. Moments like that always end up the same, with you barely able to walk, stumbling to your cold, empty apartment, having to clean your own puke the next morning, with a massive hangover.

The world around you seems to swirl, the seconds tangling together into minutes, as you sit alone, swirling the liquid in your glass. You exhale shakily, placing your heavy head on your hand. You close her eyes tiredly before opening them and looking up, just in time to see him walking through the door.

You want to scoff seeing Oscar, his unnerving calm expression present on his face as always. His eyes meet yours, as if feeling your stare... Or were you glaring?

He raises an eyebrow at you, his face nonchalant as if in a challenge. You straighten up, pulling out of your haze, not willing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you vulnerable.

Oscar almost rolls his eyes at your gesture, reading it correctly. His eyes soften slightly as he approaches you slowly. You don't take your eyes off him, having to look up more the closer he gets.

"Piastri," you say coldly, though your voice cracks slightly, indicating your slightly shaken state.

He observes you closely, his eyes narrowing knowingly, figuring out that you are not feeling too good.

"What's with the sour expression? You look unhappy; it's definitely not just because I'm here."

"Maybe it is." you mutter, but your eyes relax a little as you give up on looking tough, knowing that he's got you figured out already. "Why do you suddenly care?"

Oscar pulls out a chair and sits right in front of you without looking away for even a split second. He takes in the way you're dressed, your expression, your hair, and every single inch of you that he can see.

"Dunno. Maybe I just feel curious." He shrugs, with absolutely no shame, studying every single movement of the muscles of your face. "So? What happened?"

You exhale, giving up on trying to chase him away, knowing that while he usually looked like he didn't care about anything, once he settled on something, he stubbornly kept to it.

"It's not a good day for me," you say quietly, finally showing slight sensitivity, meeting his eyes, which soften slightly at your words.

"And so you chose to go to a party instead of taking care of yourself at home?" He asks, and although his tone sounds a bit scolding for some reason, for once it doesn't make you want to punch him in the face. His questions came off more as his way of showing concern.

You would like to keep believing he doesn't care. That he is completely insensitive to everything you feel, maybe even enjoys it when you're miserable. But in this moment, he's anything but that. Even though his words are reserved, the way his honey brown orbs follow yours makes your heart flutter a bit for some reason. His lips suddenly look more full than usual, and oh, did he always have such a nice nose?

You open her mouth a bit, a little overwhelmed by those sudden thoughts. You quickly shake them off, trying to focus on forming a coherent response.

"I really don't want to be alone right now. The loud music and people are still better than sitting in my empty apartment right now. Even if it's not the best setting." you manage to say, taking a deep breath. "I didn't have any better ideas."

Oscar keeps looking at you, actually taking your words seriously. Seeing how you sit here, trying to handle your heavy heart, makes him soften. He gets up and holds his hand out to you.

"Come on. You shouldn't spend an evening like that at a party. You can stay with me tonight."

Your eyes widen at those words. The guy who'd show disinterest in everything you said, who you'd fight with all the time, saying something so sympathetic? It feels unreal.

Your face heats up a bit, soft hints of a blush barely visible on your cheeks. You blink quickly, trying to calm down a bit, not able to look away from the man standing in front of you.

"We won't do anything you don't want to do," he says quickly, noticing your subtle reaction to his words. "I promise."

To hell with it.

You carefully take his warm hand and get up, stumbling a little, even though you are completely sober. Oscar immediately catches you, steadying you and looking down to meet your eyes, which are still wide.

Still in a slight daze, you let him lead you out of the party and walk down the street with you in the chilly evening air. You shiver a little, as you didn't bother to take a jacket with her.

Without hesitation, he takes his large hoodie off and helps you put it on carefully, not saying a word. His scent immediately envelops you, as the fabric warms you up almost instantly.

He takes your arm gently and walks you through the empty streets. You press your lips together, utterly confused by the whole situation. Why did he start taking care of you like that?

"Thank you," you say quietly, not wanting to be ungrateful. A few hours ago you'd probably say that you hate his guts, but now... His actions leave you confused.

You walk in silence for a while before finally stopping in front of his apartment door. For some reason you feel nervous, never having been to his home before. The whole evening made you doubt yourself and every single emotion you ever felt. Even though none of the things Oscar did were that big, they made you feel like a whole different person.

He glances at you and opens the door for you, actually acting like a gentleman for once. Or maybe he's always been one, and you were just too busy focusing on his faults to notice? You really didn't know anymore.

He helps you to a seat, even though you are perfectly capable of walking by yourself, and kneels down, carefully undoing all the little straps of your shoes. You feel her face heat up once more, looking down at the man on his knees before you, helping you with everything, without you even having to ask.

"Why are you doing this?" you whisper softly, looking at Oscar, who just got up and sat down in front of you. Your eyes are shining in the dim light; you are almost fascinated by the man and his doings.

"Because you need to be taken care of." He answers softly, looking back at you, with something resembling determination in his eyes. "And I'll provide anything you need so you can feel better."

Your breathing slows down a little, while your heart speeds up at that.

"Anything?" you whisper softly, your body almost aching to touch him, feel the warmth of his hands on your skin again.

Oscar nods his head, and before he can say anything else, you lean closer, gently supporting his chin, while your lips touch his. Without hesitating, he puts his hands on both sides of your head, tangling your hair in his fingers as he takes the lead of the kiss.

You lean back after a few seconds, your breathing shaky, making eye contact with the Aussie.

"Just tell me what you want me to do," he whispers to you, his eyes full of affection and warmth you didn't think he was capable of showing.

"Just... Make me forget about it. I want to feel you. Just you."

"Do you want me to be gentle?" he asks, assuming that you need only care and affection.

"The opposite," you whisper, making Oscar's breath hitch slightly. He gets up and lifts you up from the couch, twirling you around a bit, before rather quickly making his way to the bedroom with you. He didn't want to have you on the couch for the first time. This had to be more intimate.

He throws you down on the bed a bit roughly, crawling on top of you. You're still wearing his hoodie over your silver party dress, which honestly turns him on quite a bit.

"My beautiful girl," he murmurs, breathing in the sweet scent of your perfume, as he buries his head in your neck. "All for me to have." 

He places soft kisses on your jaw and quickly moves lower, to your collarbone, progressively getting rougher. He nibbles and leaves hickeys all over you, marking all the sweet spots that make you whimper and moan.

"O-Oscar." You stutter, gripping his muscular back a bit, before immediately releasing it as the sensations continue.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He asks quietly, a small smirk on his face, "Tell me how it feels, honey."

You bite your lower lip softly at the nickname, not expecting him to get this intimate so quickly, but definitely liking it.

"Feels... amazing," you whisper, which makes him continue. He takes his hoodie off of you before lifting up your party dress. His lips curl at your underwear. It's a simple lacy set, nothing too fancy. He doesn't need anything fancy, though.

"Light green, interesting choice." He teases slightly, undoing your bra and sliding it off, careful not to scratch you with the clip. He'd rather leave all the marks himself after all.

His hands move to your now-exposed breasts, kneading them in a painfully slow way, before taking one of your nipples in his lips, sucking on it, and teasing it with his tongue.

It makes you moan, which causes him to smirk against your breasts.

"Eager, are we?" He mutters, his head buried in your chest. Without moving his face away, his hand goes lower, sliding under your panties and feeling your already wet core.

His lips curl at the fact that he makes you so wet, but he doesn't comment on it for now, slipping a finger into you, making more beautiful sounds come out of your mouth. He attacks your chest with his tongue and grazes it with his teeth occasionally, all while working on your slit.

It doesn't take long before you are close. Your mouth opens slightly as you let out another whiny whimper.

"Oscar... I'm..." she stutters out, looking down at the man who's busy pleasuring her body.

"I know, pretty girl." He smirks. "But I can't let you yet." He pulls away, leaving your hole empty for a moment.

He takes his shirt off, making your eyes drift to his muscular stomach. He can see you enjoying the view, which makes him smirk again. Soon enough, he is completely naked, just like you. Still on top of you, he positions himself in front of your entrance.

He leans closer, his mouth close to yours. His dick is of regular size, maybe just a bit bigger than most. Still, you observe him a bit carefully, knowing that you asked him to be rough.

"You can take it; I know you can, baby." Oscar whispers and begins pounding into you. His movements are quite quick, cutting your breaths short, as he thrusts away. You both pant and moan, feeling pure bliss. You never would have thought having sex with him could feel so exquisite.

"God, you're taking me so well," he murmurs, going faster, which makes your moans grow louder. "That's right, let me hear your filthy whines."

You both finish at the same time, breathing heavily. He collapses on top of you, making eye contact.

"You did so good for me, pretty girl," he whispers into your ear and rolls to the side, lying next to you, as you catch your breath.

You look at him, your eyes turning watery. You suddenly feel even more vulnerable after sharing this intimate moment with Oscar.

"Why wouldn't you ever look at me? Why were you always so cold?" You whisper, not able to stop yourself from asking the question that keeps disturbing your peace of mind.

He looks back at her, his expression soft but serious; he wraps his strong arms around you, hugging you tightly.

"Because you intimidated me. I don't think I have ever seen a woman more enticing than you. I don't understand it myself, but I cannot keep my thoughts away from you. And it scared me sometimes."

You don't say anything to his words. You didn't need to. You let yourself sink in the warm feeling of being cared for. You look up to meet his gorgeous brown eyes and peck the tip of his nose, making him smile widely. He immediately responds with a soft kiss, only on your lips. You nuzzle up against him, breathing softly.

Neither of you say anything, simply finding comfort in each other's presence. Soon enough, your eyelids start feeling heavy, and you feel yourself dozing off in his arms.